The alarm on my phone goes off at 5:00 a.m., and I nearly fall off the couch attempting to silence it. I don’t want to wake Aria yet. She was up until two in the morning researching the staff of The Sentinel and making cheat sheets for me. Things like “Marcus is a Phillies fan” and “Doris is about to become a grandmother.” She insisted it isn’t stalking when people set their Facebook profiles to public.

I stretch, head to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then brew a pot of hazelnut coffee. It was one of my first purchases when I moved in on Sunday. Aria loves hazelnut, and the thought of drinking it every morning made me feel closer to her.

I lean against the kitchen counter and watch the pot slowly fill. Each drip ticking off another thing I love about Aria. Her willingness to help me with this new job. Her big heart. The dimple that sometimes appears on her left cheek when she laughs really hard. The way her eyes change color depending on what she’s wearing. The way I’m hopelessly in love with her.

“Good morning,” Aria says, walking into the kitchen wearing nothing but my gray Nike T-shirt, which hangs to not even halfway down her thighs.

Good Lord! “Morning,” I say, quickly going for two mugs in the cabinet above the stove to keep my eyes from lingering on her legs.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I used the unopened toothbrush you had in the bathroom closet.”

“No problem.” I reach for the coffee pot, which isn’t finished brewing, and start pouring.

“Sorry I kept you up so late last night,” she says, thinking I need the caffeine to wake up. “I did tell you to get some rest and let me handle the research, though.”

“It’s fine. Nothing a little coffee can’t fix.” I turn to hand her a mug and find her with her arms up over her head, securing an elastic tie around her hair. The T-shirt lifts and reveals the very bottom of her black lace panties.

“Whoa!” she yells, grabbing for the mug, which is slipping out of my hand. It spills on her, and I quickly put the mug on the counter and take her hand in mine.

“Here.” I run the cold water and plunge her hand under it. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get that much on me. It’s mostly on your floor.” She tilts her head to indicate the spill.

“I don’t care about the floor. As long as you’re all right.” I hold up her dripping wet hand and examine it for signs of a burn. “No blistering, but it’s red.”

“Seriously, Nate, I’m fine.” She takes her hand and dabs it dry with a paper towel. “What happened anyway? Your face... You looked like you were in a trance.”

I was. “I guess I’m more tired than I realized.” I drag my fingers through my hair. “Let me pour you some more coffee and get this mess cleaned up.”

“I’ll do it. You should go sit down.” She’s already ripping a bunch of paper towels from the roll.

“No—”

She holds her hand up to stop me. “Go. I’ve got this.” Her pretend stern face is even sexier, considering she’s barely clothed.

I put my hands up in surrender and walk into the living room, already hating that we’re separated by walls. How am I going to handle her going back home? I have to talk to Paul and see if there’s any way to bring Aria on board. I know it’s a bold move since I haven’t even proven my own worth at the paper, but I can’t live this far away from her. I want to wake up every morning to see her in my T-shirt. I want to serve her coffee—without spilling it on her—and drive to work together each morning.

“All finished,” she says, walking out with two mugs of coffee. “I put some cinnamon bread in the toaster. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Sounds good.” I take a mug from her and sip it.

The second she drinks hers, her eyes widen. “Did you somehow know I was coming, so you bought hazelnut coffee?”

I bob a shoulder, careful not to spill the coffee. “It’s grown on me.” I raise my cup to my lips to cover up my smile.

The toaster pops, and Aria places her mug on the coffee table before returning to the kitchen. “Banana?” she calls out.

“Sure. There are some strawberries in a bowl in the fridge, too.”

She pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Since when do you keep strawberries on hand?”

Since I moved away and want everything around me to remind me of her. “I guess they’ve grown on me, too.”

She narrows her eyes at me, calling my bluff.

“Fine. They were on sale and I was shopping in a hurry. I’m so used to picking them up for you that I put them in the cart.”

She smiles and disappears inside the kitchen again. I count the seconds until she returns. And with each second, I hate myself more for letting things go this far. There’s nothing I can do now, though. If I ask her to move here for me, I’m the dick who wanted her to put me over her career. She’ll be happy working for Monohan. More than anything else, I want her to be happy.

“Here we go.” She walks back in carrying a plate with four slices of cinnamon toast and a bowl of cut strawberries and bananas. She places it on the coffee table in front of us. “Oh, I forgot the forks for the fruit.” She rushes off.

My heart pounds. Every time she walks away from me, I fear she won’t come back. It’s ridiculous because she’s still in my house, but I know she’s going to leave today. She never answered me when I asked if she’d stick around for a while until her new job starts. I know her. I know why she avoided the question. She’s leaving.

She walks back into the room, holding two dessert forks. “For you,” she says, handing me one.

I take it and immediately stuff a slice of banana into my mouth. I focus on chewing and nothing else.

“Someone’s hungry.” She laughs and forks a strawberry. I watch her raise the fork to her lips. My heart pounds harder the more I focus on her mouth. She chews and swallows before she catches me staring. “What?” she asks, placing the fork on a napkin on the table.

“I’m sorry.”

Her brows pinch together. “For what?”

“This.” I lean forward and cup the back of her head with my hand. I stare into her eyes for exactly two seconds before crushing my lips to hers. She’s caught off guard, but her lips part and she kisses me back. The mixture of strawberry and banana never tasted so sweet.

Maybe it’s because I know my time with her is running out, but I feel like I need to touch every inch of her body, memorize the way she feels. I lean her back on the couch and gently press my body down on top of hers. Her left leg snakes up my side, positioning me between her legs. I nearly lose it when I realize that the only things standing between us are her panties and my basketball shorts. I press down on her, making her moan in response. That only spurs me on more.

My hand trails down the side of her body, noting that she isn’t wearing a bra. I cup her breast through the shirt and her back arches slightly. We break the kiss long enough to stare into each other’s eyes. Her mouth opens and I’m too afraid to hear what she’s about to say, so I bring my lips back to hers. She hesitates for a moment, but then she kisses me back. Her fingers weave through my hair, pulling me closer. Her leg wraps around me, locking me in place. It takes me a moment to realize what she’s doing. Slowing things down. She has me trapped in this position, and while I’m certainly not complaining, her message is clear. She’s not going to let this go further.

I pull away but don’t get up. “What’s wrong, Aria? Why are you putting up a wall?”

Her eyes flicker back and forth between mine, and then her palms press slightly to my chest. “I have to go home.”

“Now?”

“Soon. I can’t stay here, Nate. You know that.”

I nod, but I still can’t bring myself to get up. If I do, she’ll try to leave.

“I’m sorry. I know this must feel like a double standard. I came on to you and that’s fine, but you initiate it and I say no.” She shakes her head. “I can’t have this kind of relationship with you. I don’t want to be friends who sleep with each other because they aren’t involved with anyone else at the moment. What we have is so much more than that.”

I know. I want to explore that. I want us to be more. But she’s right. We can’t be. Not now at least.

“Aria, you know how I feel about you, don’t you?”

She smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “The same way I feel about you.”

Doubtful. This is the first time she’s ever kissed me when she wasn’t drinking. I’m a warm body when she’s horny and a friend when she needs one. Not that I think she’s using me or that I’m complaining in any way. But she has no idea the extent of my feelings. She can’t. I’d have to tell her.

“Are you sure you can’t stick around for a day or two?”

“I emailed my parents last night about going to stay with them until Terri is ready to let me get to work.”

Two weeks without seeing her? Is she putting this distance between us on purpose?

“I really enjoyed the trip last time I was there, and this is the perfect way to pass the time until the new paper is...” She keeps talking, but I’m not processing it anymore. All I hear is one excuse after another to avoid staying here with me.

I force myself to get up. “I should get dressed or I’ll be late for my second day on the job.”

She sits up. “Yeah, I should get dressed, too. I have to go home and pack. Plus, my car is still at The Sentinel, so I need to hitch a ride with you.”

I nod because there’s nothing else to say. No way to change her mind. I head upstairs to my room and switch into autopilot, going through the motions of getting ready without really paying attention to what I’m doing. By the time I come back downstairs, Aria is in her dress from yesterday, purse in hand.

We make small talk on the drive, and Aria quizzes me on the notes she left for me about the staff. We both make a good show of things being perfectly normal, even though they’re far from it. My stomach sinks as I pull into the spot next to Aria’s car and cut the engine.

“I guess this is it,” I say, turning toward her in my seat.

“You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“So will you.” This doesn’t feel like a “See you in a few weeks.” Everything about it seems so final. “Tell your parents I said, ‘hi.’”

“I will. Go knock ’em dead in there.” She playfully punches my shoulder and turns for the door handle, but I grab her arm.

“Aria.”

She turns toward me with tears in her eyes. “I tried to leave before you could see this.” She sniffles, and I pull her to me, cradling her head to my chest.

“I’m always here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

She nods against my chest. “I know.”

I don’t want to let go of her, but she pulls away and starts searching my truck for napkins. I pull one out of the glove compartment and hand it to her.

“Thanks.” She wipes her eyes and gives me a weak smile. “Bye, Nate.”

I can’t bring myself to say good-bye, but she doesn’t wait for me to even try. She opens the truck door and gets out. I watch her get in her car and drive off before I head into work.

I’m met with the same brief looks and then total disregard as yesterday, which spurs me into work mode. I recall Aria’s notes and head for the sports editor’s desk. “Hey, Marcus. Quite a game last night,” I say. “I thought we were going into extra innings.”

He looks up at me, his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think we stood a chance against a pitcher like that.”

“Me either. It was great pitching from both sides, though. I was determined to watch the entire game no matter how late it ran.” I didn’t see a single inning of the Phillies game. I read the highlights on my ESPN app.

“Same here. We don’t sleep until the players get to sleep.”

I laugh. “Exactly!”

He nods. Not the “Happy to have you join the team” I was hoping for, but more of a “You might be okay after all,” and I’ll take that right now.

I clap him twice on the shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything. My door is always open.” Once I get to my office and unlock it, that is.

He nods again, and I move on to Doris’s desk. Even with only one day on the job, I know she’s the perfect opinion editor because she certainly has opinions about everything. Including me.

“How many days until we get to see pictures of your new granddaughter?” I ask her.

She looks up at me, eyes cold. “Are you starting a pool?”

“Of course not. I happen to love babies. Those tiny feet and hands.” I press my hand to my chest for effect. “And that baby smell...” I let my comment trail off, like Aria told me to. I feel a little bad for deceiving my new coworkers, but I’m sure once the ice is broken, we’ll all get along fine. I’ll be able to be me without putting on airs.

Doris’s features soften. “She’s due at the end of the month, but the doctors think she might be early.” She leans toward me and opens her desk drawer. She pulls out a tiny onesie on a hanger. “I bought this yesterday on my lunch break. Isn’t it precious?”

The pink and white polka dot onesie has the words “Grandma loves me” embroidered on the front in a slightly darker pink. “It’s perfect,” I say. “Does your daughter have a name picked out already?”

“Glenda.”

“Glenda. It’s unique and quite beautiful.”

She blushes. “It’s my middle name.”

“What an honor.”

She nods and returns the onesie to the drawer.

“You keep me posted on when that baby makes an appearance. I want to have a cake and refreshments to help you celebrate.”

She cocks her head. “Really?”

“Of course. It’s not every day you become a grandparent.”

She places a hand on mine and squeezes. “No, it’s not. And it already feels pretty grand.”

“If you need any help with edits so you can visit that baby girl, you let me know. I’m happy to pitch in.” I walk off, leaving her both dumbfounded and elated.

So far the workday is going perfectly, and I have Aria to thank for that.