Work seems longer than usual, even with the cake in the break room for Oliver’s promotion. We all surmised the cake was provided by Oliver’s doting mother. None of us would have gone to the trouble. Though we’d throw one hell of a party if he ever left the paper.

“You haven’t stopped working all day,” Aria says, a piece of the chocolate truffle cake in her hands. “Here. It’s way too rich for me, but you love chocolate so I wanted to make sure you got a piece.” She places it on the corner of my desk.

“Thanks. There was a screwup with one of the ads. The phone number on it was wrong, and apparently it belonged to some phone sex hotline.”

She laughs and raises a hand to her mouth. “Do they even still have those?”

I shrug. “I guess so. You have no idea the conversations I’ve had today. And then I had to try to find the correct number, which I figured was off by one—though I didn’t know which one.”

“Wasn’t the business listed online?”

“They’re new and haven’t gotten a listing yet.” I reach for the chocolate cake and clear plastic fork. “I didn’t even stop for lunch.” I dig in, breaking off a big bite and putting it all in my mouth.

“You look like a chipmunk,” Aria says, puffing out her cheeks. Even acting goofy, she’s still incredibly sexy. “So, I ran into Aaron at Last Call yesterday.”

Why didn’t Caleb mention this to me? I swallow, nearly gagging on the cake. “When? Did you talk to him?”

“Relax,” David says, wheeling his chair to the partition at the front of Nate’s desk. “Aria is a force to be reckoned with. He looked green when she was through with him.”

“That’s my girl,” I say, my eyes immediately lowering when Aria’s head jerks back at my choice of words. “You never needed anyone to stand up for you.” Though I never stop trying to. Just like I did when I intervened about the promotion.

“Well, I’m calling it quits for the day,” David says, standing up and patting the cubicle partition. “See you guys tomorrow.”

I resume shoveling the cake in my mouth to avoid having to come up with something to talk about.

“So, how did your date go?”

There’s no way to avoid lying to her. If I tell her I didn’t go out, she’ll ask me why, and I can’t give her a straight answer. I settle for a shrug and stuff another forkful of cake in my mouth.

“That’s it? A shrug? That’s all you’re giving me?”

“Not much to tell.” I stand up and look around my desk. My water bottle is empty. I pick it up and start walking away. “I need a drink. This cake is rich.”

Aria follows me, not letting me off the hook. “You know, I thought I saw you leaving with Michelle. I happened to look out the window and saw you two talking in the parking lot.”

Happened to look out the window? Doubtful. She was trying to figure out who my mystery girl is. Little does she know she need only look in the mirror.

“She was on her way out to meet some friends. I gave her a lift.” I reach the water cooler and refill my bottle.

“Yeah, I know. She was at Last Call, too.”

I nod. “Were you hanging out with David?”

“All the staff writers and a few editors were there. Didn’t he call you?”

I take a sip of the water and recap it before facing her again. “I haven’t checked my messages.”

“Right.” She looks down. “Because you were busy with your date.”

“Why does it bother you so much that you don’t know who she is?” I can’t help asking. Aria’s never been one to pry.

“I don’t know. I guess because I’m not used to you keeping secrets from me.”

That she knows of. I’ve been keeping my feelings secret for years. “Once I know what’s going on with her, you’ll be the first to know. Promise.” I nudge her arm with my elbow, which makes her smile.

“You have dinner plans?” she asks, knowing I don’t cook and opt to eat takeout most nights.

“I’m craving breakfast food. Steak and eggs with hash browns and rye toast.” I sip my water again before asking, “Want to hit the diner with me?”

“I could go for a Belgian waffle with strawberries and whipped cream.”

I catch myself licking my lip when she mentions whipped cream. I have to stop thinking about her this way. She needs time. No more drunken sexcapades. She needs her best friend.

“I’ll pick you up at six thirty.” I walk past her to my desk to clean up for the day. Somehow I need to find a way to be the guy she’s turned to for the past twelve years. Even if it means repressing every urge inside me.

I go home, shower, and arrive at Aria’s place at twenty after six. I walk right in as usual, and the scent of her shampoo hits me immediately. Steam floats out under the bathroom door. Dear God, she’s still in the shower. One room over. Naked. I pound my fist against the side of my leg to snap myself out of it.

I fill my mind with safe thoughts. Puppies, kittens, my grandmother in a bathing suit. That one does it. By the time the water in the shower shuts off, I’m thoroughly repulsed by the image of wrinkly, saggy skin.

“Oh, hey.” Aria emerges with a towel wrapped around her and another on her head. “I’m late, aren’t I?”

Grandma long gone from my head, all I see is Aria. I clear my throat and blink. “I’m early, if that helps.” I gesture to the clock, but it’s now 6:31. “Or I was.”

“Sorry. My mom called, and we talked for a while. Can you believe she’s upset over Aaron and me splitting up? She never even liked him. I don’t understand it.” She moves toward her bedroom, and I walk to the window, wanting to put distance between her nakedness and my arousal.

“She’ll come around. Give it time. You know how parents are. Once we hit a certain age, they expect us to find ‘the one’ and settle down.” My parents always loved Aria. If I went home one day and told them we were engaged, they’d throw the biggest party and start asking when they could expect grandchildren. Damn it! Every thought leads back to sex with Aria.

“Ready.”

I turn around to see Aria in a daisy-print sundress and strappy white sandals. It’s typical attire for her, but I really wish, for once, she would have chosen pants and a turtleneck—despite the heat.

“Great. Let’s go.” I motion for the door, letting her lead the way, which is a huge mistake because it means I get to stare at her backside. I lower my eyes to the floor, but they creep back up.

Aria turns abruptly, and I jerk my head up. “Oh, I almost forgot my phone.” She rushes to the bedroom, and I take the opportunity to walk out of the apartment and call the elevator. “Got it,” she says, closing and locking the apartment door.

The elevator takes forever since most of the residents are getting home from work or getting ready to go to dinner like we are.

“Let’s hit the stairs,” Aria says, nodding toward the door at the far end of the hall. She leads me past Michelle’s apartment and chuckles. “I can’t believe I thought you were secretly dating her.”

“Well, if I was, I’d definitely hide it from you.”

She smacks my arm. “Why? You think I wouldn’t be able to handle my best friend dating the woman who makes my skin crawl? Come to think of it, she’d be perfect for Aaron. I should let her know we’re not together anymore. She was always eyeing him up.”

“She eyes everyone up.” Though I suspect it’s out of loneliness. From what I’ve seen, she talks to everyone, regardless of gender or age. I feel bad for her—not that I’ll mention it to Aria.

She pushes open the door to the stairwell. “True, and I wouldn’t want Aaron to become a permanent fixture around here. I want to move on and forget we ever dated.”

That’s what I want, too. We descend the stairs to the lobby, which is busy with people coming and going. Aria bends down to pick up mail for an elderly woman. She’s always had a soft spot for people who need assistance. I think that’s why she took the job at Priority News. Mr. Monohan needed to staff the paper in a hurry, and Aria wanted to help. She even convinced me to apply. And as much as I know I could make more money someplace else, I’m content for now. Once I do get married and start a family, I’ll most likely have to upgrade to a bigger paper that pays more, but I’m not in a hurry to leave. I have great friends there and, of course, Aria.

It’s starting to drizzle, so I hold my hand up to stop Aria from walking outside. “I’ll pull the car up. Stay here.”

She nods and starts patting her hair. She hates when the humidity makes her hair frizzy and usually pulls it back when she knows it’s going to rain. I don’t remember seeing this in the forecast, though, and apparently she didn’t see it either. I jog to my truck, feeling the rain dot the back of my shirt as I hunch over. I scramble inside the truck and back out. Looping around the parking lot, I pull up to the doors, being careful of the people who are running to get out of the rain.

I lean over and push the passenger door open when I see Aria run out, hands protectively shielding her hair. She gets in and starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

She turns toward me, her hair already starting to frizz. “I just realized you’re going to be dining with someone who looks like she stuck her finger in an electrical socket.”

“It’s not that bad.” I tilt my head at her, wishing I could tell her that even bald she’d be beautiful.

She fishes through her purse and says, “Aha!” She pulls out a hair clip. “Your evening is saved. The beast can be tamed before it gets any worse.” She gathers her hair, twists it, and secures it with the clip. Then she flips down the visor and checks out her reflection in the mirror. “It will do.”

My eyes go to her bare neck and shoulders, lingering a little too long.

“What?” she asks, brushing off her shoulder. “Do I have a bug on me or something?”

I reach for a string that’s come loose from the strap of her dress. “A string.”

She pulls a small pair of scissors from her purse and cuts it.

“You carry scissors?”

“And safety pins. You never know when you’re going to have a wardrobe malfunction. Better to be safe than sorry.” She returns the scissors to her purse and someone honks behind me.

I check the rearview mirror to see a blue sedan waiting to drop someone off at the door. I raise my hand in apology and pull out of the parking lot.

The diner is crowded when we arrive, but we manage to score the last table available. The couple behind us makes faces when they’re informed they’ll have to wait for a table to open up. I consider offering them our table, but Aria’s stomach growls loudly.

She pats it, and her cheeks turn red. “Guess I’m hungry.”

“Let’s get you fed.” I gently press my hand to the small of her back, and we follow the hostess to our table.

“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess tells us before leaving.

Aria slides into the booth and rubs her arms. “They have the AC cranked in here.”

I have no jacket to offer her, so I flag down a waitress at the coffee station.

“Your waitress will be over as soon as she can. We’re extremely busy tonight,” she says, forcing a smile and quickly walking away.

Aria shrugs. “Thanks for trying.”

I’m not giving up yet. I look around, noticing all the waiters and waitresses are busy. “Hang on.” I stand up.

“Nate, what are you doing?”

“Getting you coffee.” I head straight for the coffee station, where the mugs are stacked. I grab two and quickly pour the coffee before I’m caught. A man sitting at the bar raises his mug to me. What the hell? I turn and refill his cup. Then I return the pot and head back to our table.

Aria laughs. “I can’t believe you did that. You’re going to get us kicked out of here.”

“Hey, the way I see it, I kept someone’s tip from being lowered. They’re swamped in here.”

A woman in her thirties with her red hair in a messy bun approaches us with a pad and pen in hand. “Sorry for the wait. We’re understaffed tonight, and everyone had the same idea to dine here.” She offers an apologetic smile, and then her eyes narrow on our cups of coffee. “Oh, did I get the table wrong? Are you already being served?”

“Not quite,” Aria says, hiding her smile behind her coffee.

“We were only served drinks,” I say. “Since you had your hands full.” I smile, hoping she won’t question it further.

“Okay, well, did you have a chance to look over the menu?” She motions to the menus the hostess placed on the table, which are still unopened.

“We know what we want,” I say.

She takes our order and rushes off again.

“Think she suspects?” I ask, leaning over the table toward Aria.

“Careful, they might hire you for weekends and night shifts.” She takes another sip of her coffee, and I force myself to look away from her. My eyes go to the table in the corner, where Aaron is sitting with some guy I don’t recognize. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Aria turns to see what I’m looking at. “Seriously? How do we keep ending up in the same places?”

It’s not that uncommon to run into the same people everywhere since Priority has its hot spots. And considering the places we’ve been running into Aaron are places he used to go with Aria, we know he likes them.

“Ignore him,” I say.

“Gladly.” She turns around again. “So, did you pick up anything from the phone sex hotline?” She wags her brow and then bursts out laughing. “Sorry. I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t.”

“You? Try being the one to talk to those women. I’m convinced they’re not even real women on the other line. I’m sure it’s all pre-recorded. I bet some fifty-year-old man handles the calls and presses buttons for responses that make sense.”

She cringes. “Gross. Not that the entire idea isn’t gross to begin with.”

I can’t help agreeing. The thought of a complete stranger I’ve never seen before talking dirty to me isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.

“What was your day like?” I ask her, finally sipping my coffee now that it’s not scalding hot anymore.

“The usual. Editing stories. I did have to meet with Oliver, but he was much more civil than I thought he’d be. Probably because the story he submitted to me was nothing short of amazing.” She wraps her fingers around her mug in an attempt to warm them. “I think he could really be great if he didn’t hide behind his mother’s money and actually applied to a bigger paper.”

And stopped acting like a douche. “I think you could be, too,” I offer.

“I like helping the little guy. You know that. Besides, Mr. Monohan is a great boss.”

I nod. “He is.”

“And I like living here. I don’t want to have to move to New York City or L.A. or anywhere else.”

Most people want to flee the town they grew up in, but not Aria. She loves this place. Always has. Even after her parents moved four hours away, she never thought of leaving. I suspect Ashley has something to do with it. They’re close, yet so different. Ashley speaks her mind all the time, even when it’s inappropriate. Aria grounds her in a lot of ways.

“Are your parents coming to visit any time soon?” I ask.

“I don’t think so. The only trip they mentioned was their usual one to Aruba in the fall. They’ll be gone for three weeks this time. I swear, I’m going to get a phone call one day informing me they’re not coming back.”

“Your dad would love that.”

“He would.” She smiles, but I know she misses them. She went from seeing them once a week to every few months.

“You should go visit them. I’m sure Monohan will let you work remotely.”

“I’ve thought about it.”

The waitress returns with our food. “Here you go. Can I get you a refill on the coffee?” She’s already walking away.

“Yes, please,” Aria calls after her.

She nods back and delivers a check to another table.

“Think I’ll be getting our refills?” I ask.

“You might be.” She returns my smile and digs into her waffle. She licks her lips, but there’s still a little whipped cream in the corner of her mouth. I tighten my jaw and go back to cutting my steak. Five minutes later we still haven’t gotten our coffee refills. I start to stand, but Aria stops me.

“I’m too full to drink any more. Let’s get the check and go.”

I nod and look for our waitress. Instead, I see Aaron walking over to us. He can’t seriously be coming over here to talk to Aria. How many times does she have to turn him down before he takes the hint? If he doesn’t catch on soon, my fist is going to make an impression on his face.

“Aria, good to see you.” He doesn’t even look at me.

“Seriously, Aaron? I don’t want to talk to you or see you.”

“That’s a shame because I talked to your mother the other day. She’s very upset we’re not still together.”

“You called my mother?” Aria shrieks, drawing attention to our table.

“She’s worried about you. Concerned you’re making bad decisions. You know, like getting drunk in public.”

“Okay, stop.” I stand up and press my hand against Aaron’s chest, pushing him back.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

Without thinking, I say, “Her boyfriend.”