I couldn’t sleep.

And not because I ran away from Carlos and barely said goodbye when the security guard yelled at us. And not because I stopped at a diner for dinner and the ice cream float I ate was messing with my stomach. And not because Meghan had her sex playlist blasting from her room. And not because I wrote a scathing review of Koi and posted it online. Although any one of those reasons could’ve kept me awake any other night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what that almost-kiss with Carlos meant.

As I laid in bed, I tried to think about what I was going to tell Luna Daniels, but I kept thinking about how badly I wanted Carlos to kiss me. I forced my thoughts to the fact that I didn’t get to experience the full singles happy hour to give it an authentic review, but every time I blinked, all I saw was Carlos Richmond.

Do I like him? It doesn’t make any sense. Yes, I’m attracted to him, but we had a moment, and that’s ridiculous because he’s a Lost Boy! He doesn’t see anything wrong with that so I can’t like him… can I? Do I? Oh my god… do I?

There was something about him that was unlike any other man I’d ever dealt with. He treated me as his equal. He didn’t like me, but he respected me. He didn’t sexualize me, but it was clear he was attracted to me. He didn’t agree with me, but he didn’t shy away from debating me. He was associated with a group that I hated on principle alone. But his interactions with me were respectful, kind, and protective. Except when we were at each other’s throats. And even then, those exchanges were sexually-charged and raw.

Raw.

Giving in, I imagined what it would be like to have him kiss me. I fantasized about what his hands might have felt like on my body. I considered how big his dick could be. My body stirred, my nipples hardened, and my panties dampened.

As my hands slipped under my t-shirt, I let my fingertips skate along my smooth skin. Closing my eyes, I imagined my hands were Carlos’s hands. I made my way to the apex of my thighs. With visions of his hands, mouth, and dick pressed against me, I was just about to touch myself.

“Oh!” I gasped, eyes flying open.

My phone vibrated loudly against the wooden nightstand for the second time. Grabbing it, I sat up in bed and then gasped again.

Sorry for the late notice, but it just occurred to me that you are not on the staff email. Bring your notes and your unfinished drafts to Re-Mix tomorrow at six o’clock. We’re having a staff meeting and I want to see what you have so far. Because it’s short notice, I won’t hold you to the fact that these meetings are mandatory. But I do hope you can make it. Luna.

“Oh my God,” I breathed as I reread the short email from Luna Daniels twice.

I went through a range of emotions. I was excited. I’m going to be meeting with other staff members of Re-Mix. I was nervous. I’m going to be meeting with other staff members of Re-Mix. I was panicked. I’m going to be meeting with other staff members of Re-Mix…and I don’t have any notes from tonight!

I spent ten minutes trying to think of excuses I could tell Luna that wouldn’t get me fired or make me look incompetent. I had my integrity and I didn’t want to lie. I planned to just tell her the truth and hope for the best.

And then it occurred to me.

The truth.

Guided by moonlight, I hopped out of bed and turned on my laptop. While it started up, I grabbed my phone and scrolled down my contact list. Taking a deep breath, I drafted and sent a late-night text message.

Fiddling with the edge of my shirt, I listened to the phone ring. Something shifted between us with the conversation in the parking lot. But after the security guard yelled at us, I barely said goodbye before I hopped in my car and left. I groaned. He hadn’t even picked up the phone yet and I’d already started freaking out.

“Hello?” Carlos’s deep raspy voice curled my toes.

“Hi-hey,” I stammered, shaking off the lingering effects of his voice and our almost-kiss. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were sleeping. I know you have to wake up early.”

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded like he was sleeping. “What’s your idea?”

“We tell the truth,” I announced, the wheels turning in my head.

There was a distinct pause. “We tell Luna Daniels that we were kicked out early so we have no idea how the singles happy hour ended?”

“Yes.”

“You want us to tell her that even though her email said for us to be there the whole time, we were only at the four-hour event for an hour?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He let out a short, amused laugh. “You can do what you want, but I’m not doing that. I need this job.”

I smiled, sitting back against the chair. The sound of his laugh was unexpected and felt good to my soul. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. But hear me out… I’m going to write about my experience. Everything that happened from the moment I arrived to the moment security asked us to leave. You should write about your experience from arriving to the interaction with the woman with the braids to being asked to leave.”

He was quiet for a second. “My interaction with the woman with the braids,” he repeated slowly. “I don’t even remember what we talked about.”

“Well, you must have talked about something because she thought you were so funny,” I blurted out without thinking. My eyes widened as I held my phone to my ear. “I mean, I happened to look and…um, she seemed to be laughing.”

I could hear him shifting on the other end of the line. “So, you were watching me?”

“No, no.” Nervously, I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. “I mean, I saw you. I wasn’t watching you or anything. But I did see you talking to a woman with braids, right? That was you? I was pretty sure…no, I wasn’t watching.”

I was mortified that I couldn’t stop talking, but the silence on the other end was deafening.

“Akila, it’s cool,” Carlos laughed sleepily. “It’s good to know you had an eye on me.”

I rolled my eyes, but his laughter eased the nervous tremble in my chest. “My point was just that you have an experience to write about, so you can write about that: how you two were able to engage, the music, the atmosphere, all that.”

“I was only talking to her for like five minutes, but I guess… yeah, I could write about that.”

It was ten minutes. I pursed my lips. Yeah, I was watching.

“I didn’t finish my conversation because I saw you arguing with that asshole at the bar,” he continued.

Grinning, I crossed my arm over my chest. “Wait…so, if you saw me arguing with Brad, that means you were watching me.”

He let out an amused grunt. “Okay, you got me.”

“It’s cool, Carlos. It’s good to know you had an eye on me,” I teased, causing him to chuckle.

“I’m tired. I don’t know what I’m saying,” he explained with a yawn.

Reflecting on the events of the night, something nagged at me. “Was the altercation with Brad loud? Did you notice me and what was going on because it was louder than the music?”

“Are you serious?” he asked with a sexy rasp.

“Well… yeah.” I got up from my desk and climbed back in bed. “My adrenaline was pumping so all I was focused on was telling him off. I didn’t know if people were staring or not. And it just occurred to me that we probably caused a scene.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“I’m not worried. Just curious. When did you see me?”

He let out a combination of a yawn and a short laugh. “When did I see you and when did I notice what was going on with you at the bar are two different questions. I made my way over to you when I saw people at the bar looking at you. But I noticed you the moment you walked in the door.”

Caught off guard, my breathing hitched. “Oh...”

“In my defense—”

“You don’t need a defense,” I interrupted quickly.

He was quiet.

I shifted my body in bed, fidgeting from nerves. “What’s your day looking like tomorrow?”

“He yawned again. “I have an early morning.”

“Oh, I should let you go!”

“No, I have a few minutes… I want to know something personal.”

“Like my social security number?”

He chuckled quietly. “And your banking information.”

“Hell to the no.”

“Tell me something.”

“I don’t know. How personal are you talking?”

“How long have you been single?”

“Almost three years now.”

“Really?”

I narrowed my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. “Yes,” I answered slowly. “Why?”

“Just surprised, that’s all.”

“Why? Because I’m too pretty to be single?” I rolled my eyes at the common line men used.

“No…with your conceited ass.” He let out a tired laugh causing me to laugh along with him. “You just carry yourself with… I don’t know. You have a lot of fight in you.”

“Which is probably why I’m single,” I joked with a giggle. “There are a lot of men who seem scared of a woman with fight.”

“Boys fear a woman with fight in them. Men respect it.”

My lips curled upward. “I agree with that. I’ve met a number of boys.”

“Well, you’re not talking to one now.”

My heart thumped, but I tried to ignore it. “How long have you been single?”

“My last real relationship ended two years ago.”

“And since then…?”

“Since then I’ve been working on my book.”

“Why did the relationship end?”

“She cheated.”

“Oh…” I didn’t see that coming.

“You sound surprised.”

“I am.”

“Why? Because women don’t cheat?” His tone was playfully mocking.

“No,” I giggled. “Because of your energy.”

“And what’s my energy like?”

Soul stirring.

“Like a stand-up guy.” I paused. “For the most part.”

His deep rumbling laugh sounded like a warm blanket covering me. “For the most part,” he repeated.

We traded stories about past relationships and before I knew it, another hour had passed.

He yawned. “It’s getting late. I have to wake up in three hours.”

I looked at the clock. “I didn’t even realize we were on the phone this long.”

“You’re pretty easy to talk to when you want to be.”

I smiled. “And you’re not as bad as the company you keep would indicate.”

“And we’re back here,” he sighed dramatically.

I bit my lip. “Oh, we never left.”

There was a contented pause before he spoke again.

“It was nice getting to know you tonight, Akila.”

“You too, Carlos.”

“I’ll see you at Re-Mix.”

Burrowing under the covers, the warmth I felt outside my body matched what I felt inside. “Okay, yeah, of course. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

My skin was warm, and I didn’t realize how hard I was smiling until I leaned over to connect my phone to the charger. Falling back against the pillow, I stared at the ceiling.

There were a lot of reasons to like Carlos. But his association with Date Night, the fact that he was a Lost Boy, and the fact that he silently condoned his friend’s bullshit were huge red flags. He made me feel magic, but he also got under my skin like no other had before him. While the way he looked at me heated me to my core, we seemed to be unable to have a normal face-to-face interaction with one another.

“I can’t cross that line again,” I whispered aloud, anxiety and panic working its way through me.

We brought out the worst in one another. We stood on the observatory at the river and when we were trading shots, we ignored each other. We argued at Empire Park and in the parking lot of Koi. We were snippy with each other at Re-Mix in front of Luna Daniels. We tried to have a civil conversation and that resulted in us being intensely drawn to one another. It was as if our automatic response to one another was passionate. We were either defending our beliefs passionately or fighting our passion driven attraction.

In the beginning, before I knew he was part of The Lost Boys, I was attracted to him. It was the way he carried himself, the way he spoke to me, the way he looked at me, the way he respected me. I was attracted to his drive and his intelligence. I was attracted to his energy. And then I found out who he was and that he was affiliated with Date Night, and I didn’t like him anymore. And when he recognized that I didn’t put up with the vile bullshit his show spews, he didn’t like me anymore.

We had an honest conversation and established a temporary cease-fire so that we could move forward with our career goals. Any attraction is just lingering from when we first met and is fueled from our hostility.

“It’s fine,” I murmured as I closed my eyes. “It’s going to be fine.”

It wasn’t fine.

I woke up sexually frustrated and two hours late.

After realizing the time, I jumped out of bed and scrambled to get my day started. I sat in front of my laptop and got to work. And while I complimented the DJ, the bartender, the drinks, and the atmosphere, my opinion piece took a quick turn. I fleshed out what happened and my experience as a single woman at Koi’s singles happy hour was not pretty.

As the article came together, in the back of my mind, I knew it was going to rile up The Lost Boys. I thought about my truce with Carlos, but I pushed that thought aside and continued putting together my article. I wasn’t attacking him or the garbage they called a show. I was being completely honest about what happened and tying it to the facts. As I worked through what happened in my mind and for my article, I couldn’t help but think about the parallels between the podcast I listened to with Meghan earlier in the week and the experience I had with Brad. And by four o’clock, I had a rough draft ready for the staff meeting.

“It’s rough…really rough,” I told Meghan in lieu of a greeting as I answered the phone an hour later.

“It’s so good, Kiki!” she exclaimed.

Her excitement fueled mine. “Ah! Seriously? You don’t think it’s too much?”

“It’s well over the word count, but besides that, it’s perfect. You manage to capture what it’s like to be out by yourself as a single woman and the retaliation some men use when they don’t get their way. Oh, and you cleverly shamed both the owner’s son and Date Night with The Lost Boys all at the same time. This is basically your opus.”

I laughed. “Okay, it definitely needs work, but I thank you for your support. You are the best cheerleader.”

“That’s what Derrick said,” she joked.

Giggling and catcalling, I tucked in my grey Super Casanova band t-shirt into my high-waisted black pencil skirt. I slipped into black ballet slippers and grabbed my black leather jacket. I was going for cool, yet professional writer, and I felt like I was pulling it off. Listening to my best friend detail her sexual exploits, I was reminded of how long it had been since I’d had sex myself.

“So, what’s the update with Derrick? How do you feel about him?” I asked as I grabbed my notebook, laptop, and printed copy of the article.

As my best friend filled me in on everything she wasn’t able to tell me earlier while I was writing, I locked up our apartment and made my way to the Empire Building for my first official staff meeting at Re-Mix.

“Are you there yet?” Meghan asked.

“Yeah…” I dragged out the word as I backed into the parking spot. “Just parked.”

“What are you wearing?”

“My black pencil skirt—”

“The one that makes your ass look amazing?”

“Of course.”

“Nice pick! What top?”

Climbing out of the car, I grabbed my belongings. “I dressed it down with the Super Casanova t-shirt.”

“Okay, I love that together! And it’s perfect for your meeting—it’s cool, low-key, sexy, smart. Not too dressy, but not too casual. You’ll be relaxed enough for the staff meeting, but sexy enough to catch Carlos’s attention. Did you wear the spiked heels?”

“No, the flats.”

“Oh.”

I stopped in my tracks. My eyes widened as I looked down at my feet. “What’s wrong with the flats?”

“Nothing if you were just going to a staff meeting. But you’re going to a staff meeting with Carlos.”

“Oh my god,” I groaned with a giggle.

“If you want Carlos to start mixing business with pleasure, you need to wear the shoes that give you the sex walk. The flats sound cute, but the heels would’ve said pleasure.”

“I’m not trying to mix business with pleasure!”

“That’s not what your sex dreams were saying,” she countered in a sing song voice.

“It’s not like that! We’re…cordial, at best.”

“You two agreed not to embarrass each other on the job and then you almost pounced on each other. That’s not cordial. That’s two people in denial.”

Grinning, I switched the phone to my other hand and repositioned my bag. “I should’ve waited until after the meeting to tell you about that.”

“And you should’ve told me before the meeting that you were opting out of the fuck-me heels. I mean, let’s not pretend you didn’t wear that skirt that makes your ass pop for Luna Daniels.”

Approaching the door, I snickered. “I’m not dressing up for him.”

“If you are choosing to believe that lie, the flats are fine.”

Looking down at my feet, I tried to keep the amusement out of my voice. “It’s the truth! I’m not dressing up for Carlos.”

“You’re not dressing up for me?” he inquired from behind me.

Startled, the deep rumble of Carlos’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

I swallowed hard. “Let me call you back,” I mumbled into the phone.

Reaching around me, he grabbed the handle of the door and opened it.

Clearing my throat and holding my head up high, I walked through the door. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He saddled up beside me as we eased our way through the lobby. After a few moments of silence, he continued, “So, are you going to pretend I didn’t hear you talking about me?”

My heart pounded in my chest, but I rolled my eyes. “You act like you’re the only person named Carlos in the world.”

“Are you implying that you weren’t talking about me?” He hit the elevator button.

Refusing to look at him at first, I prayed my face wasn’t flushed. “I’m implying you need to stop eavesdropping on private calls.” Once we were in the elevator, I gave him an unaffected glare as I hit the button to the second floor. “So, mind… your… business.”

He chuckled under his breath while holding his hands up in surrender. “Duly noted.” He checked me out. Stroking his beard, he gave me an appreciative smirk. “I know it’s specifically not for me, but you do look nice, though.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “It’s not at all for you and thank you.”

“In all seriousness, thanks for hitting me up last night.” He tapped the notebook in his hand. “Once I started writing some thoughts down, I have a few ideas and can pull something together by Monday. What about you?”

Seeing his soulful eyes light up, I was reminded of our truce. Not that I was doing anything wrong, but a part of me felt like I should warn him about the direction of my article. As each second passed, my bag felt heavier. I didn’t owe him anything, but not telling him in advance had created a lead ball in the pit of my stomach.

The elevator dinged as he looked at me expectantly.

“I actually got a first draft completed.”

He put his hand out, gesturing for me to walk out of the elevator before him. “Oh wow, nice!”

“Yeah, thanks.” I held up my badge for the receptionist to see. Casting a wayward glance at Carlos, I forced the words out of my mouth. “Um, but before we go in, I just wanted to let you know that I referenced The Lost Boys.”

He stopped.

I didn’t know what to do so I kept moving.

“Akila?” His tone was questioning as he fell into step with me.

“Yes?”

“What do you mean you referenced us? I thought we had a truce.”

I stopped, my eyebrows furrowed. “Yes. You and I have a truce. And that still stands. I listened to some more podcasts today as I wrote, and I didn’t text you and question your moral compass. I didn’t call you and tell you that I know you’re better than that. But as I wrote the truth of what happened to me, I had to mention the impact of Date Night.”

He ran his hand down his face. “Okay.”

I stared at his strong profile. His chiseled jawline clenched as we made our way down the hall to the conference room.

“Are we cool?”

He looked me square in my eyes and I saw conflict. His handsome features lacked any emotion, but his eyes told me he was warring with his answer to my question.

“We’re cool, but…” He shook his head as his sentence trailed off. Licking his lips, he repeated, “We’re cool.”

My stomach dropped. Even though there wasn’t a coldness in the way he said it, there was a definite shift.

“I wrote what I had to write,” I explained, searching his eyes for the gleam I’d seen in the elevator. It was gone. Swallowing the disappointment, I held on to what mattered. “It was my story, my truth.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“I know.” I wanted to reach out to him, but I didn’t. “I just wanted you to know before we got inside.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” He opened the door to the conference room for me. As I walked by him, he leaned down and whispered, “And this is why I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

The feeling of his breath on my neck sent a shiver down my spine. With a sharp intake of air, I ignored the familiar ache between my thighs. I looked up into his eyes and saw he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Welcome!” Ann greeted us. “I’m so sorry I hadn’t included you two on the staff email group yet. But I’m happy you were able to make it. Take a seat at any of the seats over there.” She gestured around the room.

Smiling, I took the first empty seat against the wall. Most of the seats at the table were taken by what appeared to be seasoned staff members. I expected Carlos to take the seat next to me, but he continued walking, sitting directly across the room.

I stared him down until he looked at me, which didn’t take long. Quirking my brow, I gave him a single nod.

Noted.

“Hello,” Luna Daniels greeted us as she glided into the room. She looked flawless and comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt.

I made a mental note to let Meghan know that if ballet flats were good enough for Luna, they were good enough for me.

The meeting was a typical staff meeting, but I was riveted. She went over story ideas, traction with last week’s edition, last minute changes to the October edition, and so many other things that my head spun. I took notes about everything and hung on to every word. Those of us along the wall were mostly spectators as Luna and the staff at the table loudly discussed issues regarding content.

“Speaking of new,” Luna began, extending one arm in my direction and one in Carlos’s. “We have a special series running for the next few weeks. Akila and Carlos are co-series writers for the He Said, She Said opinion piece that’ll debut in tomorrow’s online edition.”

As everyone clapped and cheered, pride and excitement filled me. I grinned and couldn’t help but look over at Carlos who was smiling as well.

“They are taking on the Richland dating scene and hitting the recurring singles events—the trivia night at Pops, the happy hour at Koi, the artist showcase at Rich Gallery, and Sunday Expressions. They are giving us accounts of their experiences. The hope is to grab men and women from eighteen to forty-nine and give them two different perspectives.”

“I like what I read,” a redhead at the table commented. He flashed me a smile before continuing. “Both articles were engaging, and they paired well together.”

“Thank you,” Carlos and I said in unison.

“But will it translate to the print copies of Re-Mix?” the redhead man continued.

My heart sped up as I watched Luna pondering over my future with Re-Mix.

“We haven’t gotten that far yet. We need to see how it goes before we think about adding it to print,” Luna declared, rising to her feet. “Meeting adjourned.”

As everyone started talking and began exiting the conference room, Luna called Carlos and I over to her.

“How was last night?” Luna asked, folding her arms across her chest.

I shifted my eyes to Carlos before responding. “Last night was unique…”

“Yeah, there was an incident at Koi,” he added.

“Oh, I know. I read Akila’s rough draft and wow…” She turned to me. “It’s really good. It has multiple layers with the dating dynamics, power plays, and socialized behavior. But I don’t know how we can get it down to five hundred words and adequately tell that story. I’m considering it for a separate piece in the print version. I’ll let you know.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed. Shaking my head in disbelief, I put my hand over my mouth. “I mean, thank you. Oh my—thank you…so much. Oh my god.”

“In the meantime, you’ll need to write something for next week’s online edition. I want you to focus on the parallels you created between Date Night with The Lost Boys and this loser at the bar.” Luna looked at Carlos and smiled. “I want you to focus on your experience, and without naming Akila, feel free to detail how and why you came to her defense.”

“I can do that,” Carlos replied.

Luna flashed him a wide smile. “I have no doubt in my mind. The two articles will reflect the differences between the way a real man handles a night out and how a loser spirals out of control upon rejection.” She winked at him. “Have you read Akila’s article yet?”

He took a quick look at me before returning his sights on Luna. “I haven’t read it yet, but I’m sure it’s great.”

“As yours will be,” I returned with sincerity.

She looked between us and her smile slowly grew. “You two get out of here and enjoy the rest of your night. I need your articles by Monday.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out.

Hoisting my bag on my shoulder, I tentatively peeked at Carlos—who was staring at me.

“What?” I asked softly.

He hesitated. “Did you do the homework for Romano’s course?”

“The relaxation picture?”

He nodded, opening the conference room door open for me. “Yeah.”

“I’ve already submitted it. I did mine here actually. Well, Empire Park.” Studying his face, I kept the conversation going. “What about you?”

“The Riverfront.”

“Have you taken yours yet?”

“Yeah. I did it Wednesday.”

“Oh, okay.”

We continued down the hall in silence.

With each step we took, the awkwardness between us grew. It was a tension like no other and every time I looked at him, he seemed unbothered.

Is this cordial? Is this how it’s going to be between us?

I didn’t know what I expected, but stiff conversation about assignments wasn’t it.

“I’m going to run to the restroom before I get on the road,” Carlos announced before checking his phone. “You take it easy.”

As I watched him walk away, my stomach sank. “Bye,” I called out to him.

He didn’t turn around.