The drumming was invading her brain. Boom boom ba dum, boom boom ba dum…

Heidi had always figured that her ability to focus on a task despite all distractions was kind of her superpower. Yeah, it wasn't as useful as mind-reading, or as sexy as, say, having super-bendy legs, but, it had gotten her through high school and the drama of her parents' not-at-all-amicable breakup without losing her valedictorian status. It had helped her earn a BS with high honors in just three years, despite her roommate's nocturnal schedule and love of parties. It had always been a solid, dependable sort of superpower, the kind she could use for good and not for evil.

Until today. She'd finally met her nemesis, and its name was meditation drumming.

"It's so perfect for improving your concentration and helping you really channel your creativity," her mother had enthused as she'd turned up the stereo, looking entirely too bright-eyed for a woman who had sworn off coffee a decade ago. "You remember Peggy, that friend of mine from North Adams who makes the wool art? She swears by it."

And then her mother had turned and disappeared into the garage-turned-workshop, her long brown braid flying out behind her, leaving Heidi to endure the auditory assault alone.

After what felt like hours, Heidi could confirm that her creativity had definitely been channeled. She'd already contemplated several methods of destroying her mother's ancient sound system.

"Mom, can you turn that down?" she finally called towards the door to the garage.

No answer. Typical. Her mother probably couldn't even hear the music from out there.

Suppressing a groan, Heidi dropped the sheaf of financial records she'd been attempting to review back on the tabletop and massaged her aching head. If the music didn't drive her batty, dealing with this client was going to.

Fifty-seven thousand dollars a year, Heidi thought, shaking her head. That was the going rate for tuition at the prestigious Easterbrook Academy. Considering their unbelievable test scores and the fact that only a handful of their 104 graduates last year didn't make it into an Ivy League school, she figured they could get away with charging that much. But only if the scandal involving the departure of two formerly-well-respected board members stayed hushed up.

Easterbrook prided itself on being a school that accepted the best and brightest—only the most ambitious and academically gifted applicants were selected, which was why an Easterbrook diploma was worth the price of several mid-sized SUVs. And, proud alumni could be counted on to provide annual donations that ensured even those applicants whose parents couldn't afford the staggering tuition were able to attend. At least, that's how it was supposed to work… until a pair of board members had been caught accepting bribes disguised as alumni support—'gifts' from affluent alumni to guarantee their children admission, regardless of academic proficiency.

To the credit of the remaining board members, once the problem had been discovered, they'd made sure the bribe money had quickly been returned, and the two guilty members had been quickly voted out. But that hadn't solved the problem. Easterbrook was left with an enormous deficit in their alumni grant budget, several deserving students without funds to pay their tuition for the coming year, and no way to make up the shortfall without going public and damaging the school's reputation. After months of bickering, the board had been unable to solve the problem, and decided they needed an impartial consultant. Now it was up to Heidi and Paul to bridge the gap or cut the budget.

It would be a hell of a lot easier if the inefficient, downright unhelpful administrators of Easterbrook would realize that they were all on the same team!

Heidi sighed and stood up, stretching her still-aching back. She walked over to turn the stereo off before turning to look around the cluttered kitchen. The table, with its pattern of blue and white Mexican tiles, was familiar. She'd sat in that very chair a dozen years ago while her Dad reviewed her math homework and her mother cooked dinner… back then, it would've been something normal, with meat and gluten.

The rest of the kitchen was absolutely nothing like the home she remembered. Gone were the empty counters and organized cabinets her mother had once prized. Now, every surface was covered with an ever-changing jumble of ingredients for her mother's candle- and soap-making business: half-filled mason jars and scraps of fabric, apothecary jars of dried herbs and flowers, vials of essential oils and extracts. The table now sat perpendicular to the back door, to allow for better energy flow, and tacked to practically every square inch of the sunny yellow walls were calls to 'Say No to GMO!' 'Feed the Poor, Don't Fund the War!' and 'Reject Gender Discrimination!'

Heidi recalled this last poster well. Her mother had carried it while protesting, topless, outside a local college football stadium that didn't provide adequate facilities for women, and she'd brought her (fully-clothed) teen-aged daughters along to witness grassroots activism firsthand. Heidi didn't remember very much about the actual protest… but, she could recount word-for-word the epic showdown between her parents afterward.

"You show your tits to whomever you like, Frances, I can't stop you. But no daughter of mine is going to hang around with a bunch of half-naked stoners who are just begging to be arrested on public indecency charges!" Her mild-mannered, indifferent father had been apoplectic for once.

"You don't own me, Charles! You don't own these girls! You don't own our breasts or control our sexuality! You should be outraged at the rampant gender inequality your daughters have to face!"

Heidi shook her head at the memory. Happy times.

From beneath the pile of papers, her phone dinged with a new text message, and just like that, the sour reminder of her parents' imploding marriage evaporated and her stomach flipped in anticipation.

How quickly I've been conditioned, she thought wryly as she dug out the phone and sat down, pushing all of her paperwork aside. She smiled when she saw the incoming message from Dom.

Morning, sunshine.

She quickly typed, Good morning!

Staying out of trouble?

Though she hadn't seen Dom for three and a half days, not that she was counting, she'd become accustomed to his frequent 'check-in' texts. She'd almost convinced herself that it was nothing more than a neighborly gesture, making sure that her back was healthy after that stupid incident at the gym. But then… her back had gotten better, and the texts had continued. What did that mean? Were they… friends?

'How are you feeling?' and 'Let me know if you need anything' had somehow become 'Text me when you get to your mother's house' and 'Tell me you weren't speeding, Heidi'. It was ridiculous, of course—a grown woman driving familiar roads in broad daylight shouldn't have to check in with anyone. Her mother would say his demands were borderline-stalker.

Heidi could only think that they felt… nice.

It was nice to know someone was concerned that she arrived at her destination and that she had gotten herself there safely. It was nice that someone had noticed her broken light and had coerced the building manager into fixing it the very next day. It was nice to know that someone was waiting for her to come back. It was nice that…

Heidi? Everything okay?

It was nice that someone cared.

Yeah, hi! I'm still here!

Good. How's everything going?

Heidi bit her lip for a moment, contemplating her answer. Things were going… the way they usually went with her mother.

When Heidi had arrived yesterday morning, her mother had been delighted to see her and had plied her with questions about her new apartment and business. She'd been genuinely thrilled to hear how successful Heidi's business was becoming… though she couldn't pretend to summon any real enthusiasm for the actual work Heidi did, since the concept of financial auditing held the taint of 'Big Corporate', which her mother was firmly against. She'd made Heidi tea and enlisted her support with wrapping candles for display at the Down East Flea Market yesterday afternoon.

And then just a few hours after Heidi's arrival, someone named Molly had called about a rally against refugees… or was it for refugees? Whichever. In any case, it was a crisis, Molly had said, and did Frances have time to lend a hand? Which was a silly question, because, of course, Frances had time to save the world one refugee at a time, and she'd gone off to do just that, leaving Heidi with a rapidly brewing headache and a bunch of pungently scented candles to wrap.

But that wasn't the sort of thing you shared with a casual friend in a text. Or at all.

Fine!

Just… fine?

Wrapped some candles, reviewed some paperwork for a client, endured an hour of aboriginal drumming… The usual family stuff.

That's the usual family stuff, huh?

Heidi grinned.

Yup. Isn't that what you do with your family?

This may shock you, but my brothers don't appreciate the art of candle wrapping.

Heidi tucked her tongue into her cheek.

That's so sad! You're really missing out.

Yet somehow we get by.

She could almost hear his dry, mocking tone.

So, what do you do instead?

One of my brothers always has some DIY project going on, so we generally load up on power tools and take care of business.

Wow. That sounds… manly.

We're men, so… yeah.

Hmmm… Do you get all sweaty doing that kind of thing?

Sure, sometimes.

So… you all probably have to take your shirts off?

There was a pause, which turned Heidi's smile into a full grin.

Sometimes.

Your brother? He's the guy from the gym, right?

A longer pause this time, which made Heidi smile even wider.

Yeah. That's one of them.

And… does your other brother look like you two?

This pause lasted a full half-minute, by which time Heidi was giggling.

Tony? More or less. Why?

I'm just trying to get a visual of you three… with power tools.

You know what? I'd rather you didn't imagine my brothers half naked.

Heidi bit her lip and stared at her phone. Did that mean he wouldn't mind her visualizing him half-naked?

And then suddenly she was visualizing him half-naked and ohmygod was it warm in here? She remembered his brother had those tattoos all over his arms, and wondered whether Dom had any ink, maybe hiding underneath his…

A hand waving in front of her face made her jump, and her phone flew out of her hand, clattering onto the tabletop.

"Yeesh, Heidi! Where did your mind wander off to?" Her sister Hillary shook her head in amusement, sending her short auburn hair sliding around her face.

Heidi pressed a hand to her chest as her heart resumed beating, and fixed her sister with a narrow-eyed glare.

"God, Hillie! Have nearly four years of college made you completely forget your manners? It's customary to say 'hello' rather than sneaking up on a person and scaring years off her life."

Hillary laughed and set a Starbucks coffee cup down on the table.

"I already said hi and told you I'd come home to do laundry! I've been talking to you for two full minutes and I only just realized that you haven't been paying attention! You've been too busy giggling and talking to…"

Hillary grabbed for the phone before Heidi could reach for it.

"Ahhh… to Dom… who apparently doesn't like you imagining his brothers half-naked?" Hillary asked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Are they hot?"

Heidi felt herself flush and held out her hand imperiously.

"Give me back my phone, demon spawn! And don't make this out to be something it's not. It's… he's just a friend."

"Hmmm..." Hillary said, turning away from Heidi's outstretched hand and quickly scrolling up the page to read the previous messages. "Sounds like a very concerned friend! 'Don't forget to call me when you get there'."

She turned back to fix Heidi with a speculative look.

"Who is this guy, Heidi?"

"Are you seriously reading my private messages?" Heidi said, standing up from the table in outrage. "Don't be obnoxious! And I told you—"

Hillary waved airily.

"Yes, yes, you told me," Hillary said with a gloating smile and a glint in her light blue eyes. She pushed Heidi gently back into her chair and pulled out a chair for herself. "Now, tell me more."

Heidi counted to ten and prayed for patience. Hillary was, by far, the best gift her parents had ever given her. Thoughtful, tender-hearted, fun. But seemingly from the cradle, Hillie had had this compulsive need to believe in love—the Disney, hearts-and-flowers, someday-my-prince-will-come, and-they-lived-happily-ever-after kind of love. The fairy tale. That she had weathered their parents' divorce with that belief still so firmly intact was absurd… and wonderful.

With a resigned sigh, Heidi asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Well, first things first. Drink your coffee," Hillary commanded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and nudging the coffee cup closer to Heidi. "I figured mom would have you drinking that crappy green tea."

The coffee was barely warm, but it was not crappy green tea. Heidi took a grateful sip, feeling her taste buds explode from the combination of vanilla flavoring and sugar. Her mother's insistence on eating vegan, sustainable foods free of sugar and preservatives at least had the side benefit of ensuring that Heidi wasn't tempted to overindulge during her visits. Sticking to a 1200-calorie-a-day diet was positively easy when she spent time at her mother's house.

"Okay, now…" Hillary continued, with an expression on her face that said Christmas had come early, as far as she was concerned. "What does this mystery man look like?"

"Well…" Heidi lifted the coffee cup to hide the smile that instinctively sprang to her lips. It was important that Hillary not get the wrong idea. "He's medium height… ah… medium build… um… he shaves his head…" She trailed off and shrugged, as though she hadn't cataloged every one of Dom's features and replayed them all in her head, over and over, from his electric green eyes, to his lean, muscular arms, and even the way his bare feet had looked when he'd bent down to pet Princess…

God, she had it bad.

Hillary looked disappointed at Heidi's casual assessment, but she rallied.

"Okay, so… how did you meet?"

"He lives next door," Heidi answered innocently. "I pulled my back at the gym and he helped me home, and we exchanged numbers, just in case I needed anything." Heidi indicated the cell phone Hillary still clutched.

"He's just… a nice guy!" Heidi finished, trying not to laugh at Hillary's pout.

"Who's a nice guy?" Frances asked, as she walked into the kitchen with an enormous cardboard box and set it on the counter with a rattle.

Heidi sighed. Perfect.

"My next door neighbor," Heidi said quickly, figuring that the fewer details she gave her mother, the less ammunition she'd have.

Hillary, the traitor, clearly did not agree.

"She's been texting him," Hillary confided. "Flirty texts."

Heidi shot Hillary a look of disbelief.

"They're not flirty. I hurt my back the other day and he just texted to ask how I was feeling," Heidi lied, shooting her sister a warning glare, daring her to reveal more.

Hillary pressed her lips together and said nothing.

"Hmmm…" their mother said, glancing warily from Heidi to Hillary. "Be careful, sweetie. You know how men try to take advantage when they think a girl is weak. Give them an inch—a millimeter—and they'll try to control your every move."

"I know, Mom," Heidi said wearily.

"There was a time," their mother continued, resting her hands atop the box and staring blankly out the window, "when I thought your father was just a nice guy. Once he got me where he wanted me, he forgot that I existed, as long as I cleaned his house and cooked his dinner. Like I wasn't a human being! Like I didn't have my own dreams and plans..."

Heidi narrowed her eyes at Hillary in a silent message. Thanks a bunch. Now you've got her started.

Hillary's mouth twisted in a silent reply. Shit. Sorry.

"And just look how that ended," Frances continued. "The minute I tried to have a life outside of his home, his hobbies, his career, he showed his true colors!"

"Mom, I was just teasing Heidi," Hillary interrupted, standing up from the table and going to put her arm around their mother's shoulders. "Don't get all worked up. "

And then, before their mother could protest, Hillary steered her toward the garage. "Why don't you show me those new candles you're working on for the summer?" she said with credible enthusiasm.

When their mother had stepped into the garage, Hillary ducked back and slid something onto the table in front of Heidi. Her phone! She'd almost forgotten!

"I flipped it to silent," Hillary said quickly, glancing towards the garage. "But it's been vibrating in my hand for the past five minutes. Your friend must be dying to know about your back… Babe."

"Hillie?" their mother called.

"Coming, Mom!"

And with a wink and a smile that was just a little too knowing, Hillary jogged back to the garage, leaving Heidi with the phone… and a knot in her stomach that wasn't from anticipation. She glanced at the screen and saw that she'd missed three messages.

Heidi?

Babe, you'd better not be thinking about my brothers.

Hello?

What the heck was she doing here? She had friends… and none of them texted randomly to check on her the way Dom did. God, Paul hadn't texted her once this weekend, and he was dog-sitting Princess! None of her other friends called her 'Babe'. And for sure, none of them cared if she ogled their brothers. Hillary was right about one thing… It was flirty. And it seemed to be mutual.

Heidi tapped her fingernail on the tabletop and stared hard at the phone.

So… what was she hoping would happen? She wasn't naive enough to think that she could have a relationship with Dom that didn't include… kinky aspects. That part was actually kind of… well, very intriguing. Her mind helpfully replayed the sound of Tammy's cry of pleasure, and she felt an answering pulse low in her belly. Yes. Yes, she definitely wanted that.

But, Dom… being in control was a requirement for him. And she had a feeling that control wouldn't just be about where she could put her hands or when she was allowed to speak in bed. How much control would he expect? How much was she willing—or able—to give? And, most importantly, would it even be worth the risk? As she worried this over, the phone vibrated in her hands.

Okay, I'm guessing the candle wrapping or the drumming have got your attention. If you need me, let me know. I'll be here.

He'd be there if she needed him.

Such a small thing, almost a throwaway comment, but even though she'd only really known him for three and a half days… she believed that he meant it.

And just like that, she knew. With a shuddering breath, she typed.

Dom… I really like you.

She followed that with another text.

Just wanted you to know that.

There was no response. One minute passed, then two, and her confidence eroded like sand in the tide.

Shit. What a stupid, stupid thing to do. I sound like a lovesick middle-schooler. He was her neighbor. He had a cavalcade of gorgeous, svelte, busty women parading through his front door every single day… she was not his type. What must he think of her for… Her phone vibrated.

When are you coming back?

God. What did that mean? He knew that she was planning to go back tomorrow morning, right before work. He'd asked her that before. Did he want her to come back early? Suddenly she needed to know, for once and for all.

Tonight. I decided I'm coming back tonight.

Good. Come to me as soon as you get home.

A fiery coil that was half excitement and half fear shivered up her spine and spread warmth through her stomach, even as the phone vibrated once more.

And, Heidi… drive safely.

Boom boom ba dum, Boom boom ba dum… Not freakin' meditation drumming this time, but the crazy, excited pounding of Heidi's own heart.