The next day, I woke up resolved once again to be nice.

People had judged me all my life—they’d come to conclusions about me based on who I was, who my father was, and what they’d read about me in the tabloids—and I’d always hated it. In the morning light, I could see very clearly I’d done the same thing to Henry.

Maybe he wasn’t an ass.

Maybe he was trying to turn over a new leaf with this community service.

Maybe I’d not treated him fairly for the past two days.

I’d always have to be careful about anyone who tempted me to do things I didn’t want to do, but surely I could be careful and still be nice.

Yesterday I’d tried to be nice to him as a strategy, but maybe I should be nice to him for real.

My graduate classes were on Mondays and Wednesdays, so my morning was spent on campus. It was after three by the time I got to the community center, and the kids would start arriving in fifteen minutes.

I looked around the big room for Henry and didn’t see him. He must have been running late since he was supposed to be here by three.

It was honestly a little annoying to work yourself up to be super nice to someone and then not have them even show up.

I stopped by Marcus’s office to put my bag in a file cabinet drawer and then chat with him for a minute. Then I headed to the kitchen to say hi to Jenny. When I passed the book storage room, I paused, realizing the light was on and someone was inside.

Henry.

His back was to me so the first thing I was saw was a very fine butt in a pair of worn jeans. Then I looked up to see his broad shoulders and too-long golden hair.

If he’d been working on the books, I would have been surprised and pleased and ashamed of my negative thoughts about him.

But he wasn’t working.

He was standing there reading a kid’s book.

I cleared my throat intentionally, and he whirled around. His surprise immediately turned into that adorable lazy grin. “Hi, April.”

I frowned, immediately forgetting my resolution to be nice. “Hello.”

“Have I done something wrong already?”

“You’re supposed to be working, not hanging around and wasting time.”

“I was working. Or, rather, I started working and then got distracted by this book about the dogs’ Christmas. It’s really good.”

I loved that particular book. It was one of the best children’s books I’d read—so many of the books were really bad, with simplistic moralizing and absolutely no plots. I felt another tug of deep attraction for Henry, intensified by his lilting accent, which was more pronounced than normal.

What was wrong with me, melting into a hot puddle of goo from nothing more than a man’s voice and those creases at the corners of his mouth?

I usually had more backbone than this.

My internal lecture to myself caused my tone to be cooler than I’d intended. “Maybe you can waste time reading after work hours.”

His eyes shot over to my face, searching my expression as if he were trying to understand my mood, but he immediately closed the book and set it down on top of the stack he’d taken it from.

After a moment, his face softened. “You look very pretty today,” he said huskily.

I rolled my eyes.

“I just gave you a compliment.”

“I know you did.”

“Why don’t you like me?”

“What makes you think I don’t like you?” My cheeks warmed even as I tried to keep my tone casual. I wasn’t used to people being so direct.

“I saw you with the kids and with Marcus and with the other volunteers. You smile at them.”

Now I felt guilty again because he was absolutely right. I’d been a very careful person for the past three years—I’d had to be—but I was also friendly most of the time. I smiled at Henry, wishing he would just shut up and leave me alone.

He chuckled. “That’s a fake smile. I’ve seen your real smile.”

I scowled. “It was not a fake smile. And I might smile at you for real if you didn’t always act so smug and obnoxious.”

He was still laughing, perhaps because I’d clearly contradicted myself in my retort. “I told you before. I’m really a very nice guy. You’re the only person in the world who thinks I’m obnoxious.”

I sucked in an indignant breath. “Then clearly I’m the only person who’s gotten to see the real you.”

Deciding that was a fairly good comeback, I turned to leave, wanting to exit on a high note. But I’d only taken two steps down the hall when I remembered I’d resolved to be nice and nonjudgmental for real today.

With a resigned sigh, I turned back around and stood in the storage room doorway.

Henry was grinning as if he’d expected me to return.

“Sorry,” I said, swallowing down my annoyance and the new rush of attraction. “I don’t know why I’m so prickly with you, but I’ll try to do better.”

“Don’t try on my account. I’d rather you say what you really think than pretend something that isn’t real. I’ve had enough fakeness in my life.” He took a step toward me, his expression warming palpably. He added thickly, “Besides, I like you prickly.”

I gulped and made a quick retreat so he wouldn’t see the wave of hot response that flushed my skin and sent tingles down my spine.

This wasn’t good.

It wasn’t good at all.

I couldn’t let myself fall under the spell of a sexy, entitled man like Henry. It would lead me astray, and I’d been working so hard to stay on the right path.

If only he wasn’t exactly the kind of man I liked the best.

I decided right then, standing in the middle of the hallway, that my decision to be nice to him wasn’t the right way to go.

I couldn’t be nice to him. It was too dangerous. But I also shouldn’t be mean to him.

Instead of doing either one, I was just going to avoid him as much as possible for the rest of the week.

***

I did a pretty good job of avoiding him for the next two hours. I had work to do—since I led one of the reading circles on Wednesdays and Fridays, and Henry stayed in the storage room the whole time, hopefully organizing the books rather than reading.

I didn’t check in on him, but I still felt so rattled after the kids were dismissed that I left immediately, rather than hanging out as I usually did. I walked down to the church at the end of the block, where there was a five-thirty AA meeting held daily.

Three years ago, I’d had twice weekly appointments with a therapist, and I’d also gone to meetings almost every day, but now I only occasionally saw my therapist and attended just one meeting a week.

But I was feeling restless. Unsettled. It wasn’t a good feeling for me. I might end up making a decision I would regret.

So I went to the meeting. I listened quietly and didn’t share, but it always helped to realize other people went through the same struggles you did. I felt a little more stable after I left.

My history wasn’t like a lot of the others in the group. I’d never been in a habit of drinking privately or even daily. I’d drunk because my friends had drunk, and it hadn’t really been the alcohol I was chasing. It was the high from being wild, from defying my father, from acting out, from getting attention I craved, from feeling a part of something. I’d binged and invariably made bad decisions because of it.

So I was almost never tempted to buy a bottle of wine or a case of beer on my way home. But I was tempted to make bad decisions, to go out to a party or a club, to feel that wild high I used to feel, even though I knew very well that it had never made me happy.

I was happy now. I was in a good place. And I wasn’t going to let anything—or anyone—drag me back down to that abyss I’d lived in for so long.

As I was walking back down the block from the church to where I had left my car, I paused as something caught my attention in the outdoor patio of a café.

Henry.

He was sitting at the table nearest the sidewalk, reading a book with an empty coffee cup and a half-drunk glass of water on the table. It was chilly and overcast today, so he was the only one sitting outside.

I was so surprised to see him that I stopped in my tracks.

He glanced over to where I stood only a few feet away, and his eyes widened dramatically. He almost spit out the sip of water he’d just taken as he lowered his book.

He hadn’t expected to see me. That much was obvious. It was very clear he hadn’t been waiting for me in some sort of creepy stalker way.

This was the closest coffee shop to the community center, and he’d probably just stopped by after he’d finished working to get a drink and kill some time.

“I thought you’d left,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing up.

“I’d left the center. But not the neighborhood.”

“Do you want to join me?” he asked. “I’m just hanging here.”

The invitation was casual, friendly but not flirtatious. “Hanging out here,” I corrected, feeling a little smile play on the corner of my lips.

His brows drew together. “Hanging out here.”

“If you were hanging here, there would be a noose or a hook involved.”

He chuckled. “Got it. Hanging out here. So you’ll join me?”

I hadn’t said yes. I hadn’t even indicated an affirmation. But he felt different now than he had before—not quite as sure of himself, not quite as smug.

He didn’t feel dangerous at the moment, so I gave him a quiet nod and walked over to the entrance to the patio.

“Would you like a coffee?” he asked. “Or maybe a beer?”

“No!” I said quickly.

He blinked.

“Sorry,” I added in a modified tone. “I don’t drink anymore. Ever. I had coffee at the meeting, but I wouldn’t say no to a hot chocolate.”

He waved the server over and ordered me a hot chocolate. Then he asked, “The meeting?”

“Oh.” I felt a little wave of self-consciousness as I realized he had absolutely no idea what kind of meeting I was talking about. “AA. At the church there.”

“I didn’t know.” He was looking at me with interest and understanding but not the sympathy or discomfort I was used to seeing. “Sorry about offering you the beer.”

“It’s fine. You didn’t know.”

There were almost no other customers here this afternoon, even sitting inside. I watched our server behind the counter as he poured out my hot chocolate, and I waited as he brought it over to me.

After taking a sip, I finally went back to our previous conversation. “So you don’t read the tabloids?”

“Why?”

“Because if you did, you probably would have read about me. I used to be… kind of wild. I did a lot of dumb stuff, and drinking was always a part of it. The tabloids… liked to chronicle it.”

“The tabloids are revolting.” He looked like he hated the paparazzi as much as I did, which was comforting in an odd way.

“Yeah. My dad’s got money, and I used to party with some well-known people. I’m not a celebrity or anything, but I made the gossip papers occasionally.”

He shook his head. “I don’t read them. I don’t like them. The tabloids haven’t been kind to my family either.”

That interested me since it was the first piece of personal information he’d ever shared. “Really? In what way?”

He seemed to realize that he’d said more than he’d intended because he kind of brushed the question away. “In the normal way. They do what tabloids do.”

Henry obviously wasn’t a celebrity, so his family must be like mine—connected to important people and thus given peripheral attention.

I was curious, but my interest in Henry still worried me. No sense in indulging it. So I didn’t ask him for more information.

“What turned you around?” he asked.

I gave a little shrug. “My dad had a heart attack three years ago. He had to have triple-bypass surgery. I almost lost him. He’s the only family I have, and I guess it… it scared me.”

“So you and your dad are close?”

“We are now. We weren’t really close before. He used to work all the time, and so I barely saw him. I’m sure he always loved me, but we never spent any time together. But I think the heart attack scared him too. He changed after that. He cut down his working hours and made a point of spending time together. I guess we just… turned ourselves around together.”

“What about your mom?”

“She split when I was a toddler. She’s in California now—on her fourth husband. I never see her.”

“She never tried to get in touch with you?” He looked surprised, slightly disgusted, and his response made me feel strangely validated. My mother’s desertion was an old wound. I’d lived with it a long time. But for some reason his reaction reminded me how wrong it was that she had done that to me.

“She’ll call occasionally, and I’ll say a few words to her. Then she’ll forget I exist again.” I took a sip, the sweet, hot liquid soothing and pleasant. “Even at his worst, my dad was miles better than my mother ever was. At least he never left me.”

Emotion caught me by surprise, and my voice broke as my eyes burned with tears for a moment. I had no idea why I was on the edge of crying, sitting here with a guy who was basically a stranger to me.

I took a deep breath and a few more sips of hot chocolate until I’d gotten control of myself again.

Henry must have been able to see my emotional struggle, but he didn’t say anything. He just sat and finished his glass of water until I gave him a wry smile. “What about your parents?” I asked, trying to move us back into casual conversation.

“They’re good. They’re both good. My dad was always busy too, but he… he loved us and we always knew it. My mom is…”

“Is what?”

“She’s used to getting her way, and she has an annoying habit of interfering and manipulating until she makes things to go the way she wants. But she loves us too. We’ve always been a pretty close family.”

“You have siblings?”

“Three younger sisters.” He smiled down at the table, like he was thinking about his sisters and it made him happy.

I really liked that.

I liked that he loved his family and wasn’t ashamed to show it.

He wasn’t really at all like the guys I used to hang out with—despite his smug attitude and irresistible sexiness.

“I’m an only child,” I said when he looked back up to meet my eyes.

“Were you lonely growing up?”

“Yes.” I stared at a spot just over his right shoulder as I thought about this reality. “I was lonely all the time.”

“Are you still lonely now?” His voice was low and warm and slightly husky—comforting but not exactly sexy.

I shook my head. “No. I’ve got my dad now and some real friends, and I’ve got my volunteer work and graduate school. I’ve got a full life. It’s not perfect, of course, but it’s a good one. I’m not lonely like I used to be.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

I felt my cheeks warming as I realized I was spilling my guts to this guy I barely knew. I had no idea why I was doing it. I didn’t think I even liked him, but I still felt compelled to answer his questions, to open up in a way I almost never did with anyone.

“Anyway,” I said lamely, fidgeting with my napkin. “That’s me. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I’ve told you about me, so now you tell me about you. Where are you from?”

For the first time since I’d sat down at the table, his eyes took on that flirtatious, teasing glint. “Where do you think I’m from?”

I gave him a little eye-roll. “Somewhere in Europe. But I can’t exactly place your accent.”

“Well, keep working on it.”

My soft feelings of closeness to him were vanishing quickly with a wave of familiar annoyance. “You mean you really aren’t going to tell me where you’re from?”

“It’s more fun for you to guess.”

I gave an exasperated sigh and straightened up in my chair. “Just when I thought you might actually be a decent guy, you turn obnoxious again.”

“You must bring it out in me.”

God, he was cute. And sexy. And nearly impossible to resist.

I almost—almost—let myself smile back.

Instead, I summoned all my strength and fortitude and gave him a lofty frown. “Well then, thank you for the hot chocolate. I better get home.”

He reached into the backpack next to his chair and pulled out a billfold. He left a twenty on the table and stood up at the same time I did. “So you’re annoyed with me again?”

“Don’t put it on me. You got obnoxious again. That’s what happened.”

He chuckled, his eyes resting on my face with that amused fondness that made my heart race in a truly ridiculous way. “Ah. I see. I am corrected.”

“You stand corrected.”

“Why do I stand?”

“That’s the expression. I stand corrected. Not that I am corrected.”

“Got it.” He gave me another little grin.

I tried not to smile back. I really did. And I kept trying as he walked me down the block to where I’d parked my car in the private lot behind the community center.

As I opened the driver’s door, he seemed to be standing too close to me. I could feel the heat from his body. I really wanted to touch his chest, his shoulders, the bristles on his jaw that seemed to glint with gold.

I cleared my throat. “Okay,” I said briskly. “See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” The way he said the words was very different from the way I’d said them. Mine had been a casual dismissal. His was more like a husky promise.

I did my best not to shiver as I gave him a little push back so I could open the door all the way and get in behind the wheel. “Bye.”

I slammed the door and tried not to keep looking at him as I backed out of the parking space, exited the lot, and pulled onto the road.

I might have glanced back a few times, but I really couldn’t help it.

***

The next day, I woke up thinking about Henry. Despite my firm, internal lectures, I kept thinking about him all morning.

When it was finally time to head to the center, I was flustered and tired and disappointed in myself. I wasn’t like this. Not anymore. I didn’t let a guy turn my head and make me forget what was most important.

I wasn’t like that anymore, and I wasn’t going to be like that again.

Even if the man was as irresistible as Henry.

When I passed by the book room and looked in, I saw that Henry was already there. He wasn’t alone though.

Vicki, one of the college students who volunteered on Wednesdays and Thursdays, was in there chatting with him. She was cute and little and always smiling, and she was smiling even more than usual today.

She obviously liked what she saw in Henry and wasn’t afraid to let him see it.

I liked Vicki well enough. She was good with the kids, and she was easy to work with. She was obviously just volunteering for a line of her résumé, but everyone had different reasons for doing community service and résumé building was one of the most common.

Vicki had never given me any sort of trouble in the year she’d been working here, but I suddenly wished she was gone.

I didn’t like how she was smiling at Henry.

This was a completely inappropriate response in every way, and I fought against it immediately. But my smile was still a little cool as I said, “Hi, Henry, Vicki. How’s it going in here?”

“Look how much he’s done already,” Vicki said in her peppy way. “He’s going to be done in no time!”

Henry had done a lot in the room. I hadn’t stopped by to look before I’d left the day before, but one wall of shelves was neatly organized already.

“Excellent,” I said with another forced smile.

I moved on since lingering would only get me more annoyed with the world.

It was ridiculous. I wasn’t a teenager anymore, and I didn’t like to feel this kind of adolescent jealousy and competition over a hot guy.

If Henry liked Vicki, that was fine. That was good. That would get him out of my life—and hopefully off my mind.

I certainly wasn’t going to hang around and try to get his attention.

I didn’t do that kind of thing anymore.

On Thursdays, I didn’t lead a reading circle, but I had some paperwork to do, so after saying hello to all the volunteers and making sure everything was running smoothly, I went to Marcus’s office and sat down at the side table, where he let me work.

He wasn’t here this afternoon, so nothing should have distracted me.

I still had trouble concentrating.

I forced myself to work and not wander the halls to see what Henry was doing and whether Vicki was still flirting with him. It took a while, but I was finally able to focus on my work and get through the paperwork that had collected in the past week.

I was actually surprised when a voice came from the doorway.

“You’re busy today?”

I blinked and glanced up, taking a moment to focus my eyes enough to recognize Henry standing the doorway. “What? Oh, yeah. I guess so.”

“It’s after five.”

I glanced at the time and was surprised to see he was right. “I’m about done.”

“Then I’ll wait for you.”

My chest clenched slightly in excitement. “You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to. But I want to.” He was leaning against the doorframe, and his gaze felt like a caress.

My mind whirled and my pulse quickened, and my skin flushed warm. “Okay.”

I could barely read the invoice in front of me although I pretended to do so.

After a minute, I concluded that I was never going to get anything done with Henry standing there watching me, so I stacked the papers, slipped the invoice into a file folder, and put the file in a cabinet drawer.

“I’m done.”

He picked up my bag, which I’d left on the floor earlier, and handed it to me. “Can I buy you a hot chocolate again today?”

I almost said yes.

It was so close the word was coming out of my mouth.

But following the swell of excitement and attraction came a wave of fear. Henry made me feel out of control, and that was when I got in trouble.

I couldn’t let myself get out of control again.

I had to do everything I could to avoid it.

So I shook my head. “I better not. I need to get back early today.”

“Why?”

I frowned at him. “I have plans.” My only plans for the evening consisted of working on one of the two end-of-semester papers due next week, but Henry didn’t have to know that.

“Big date?”

I frowned at him even more. “Why is that any of your business?”

“Because I want to know my competition.”

“Your competition?” My voice squeaked just a little in surprise.

Henry had fallen in step with me as I locked Marcus’s office and then made my way outside and to my car. “Yes. If you have a date, then I’d have to consider him competition.”

“I’m not going to date you, Henry!”

“Why not?” He was giving me that little smile, the one that made my head spin the most.

“You haven’t even asked me out yet.”

“I asked you for hot chocolate.”

“I didn’t think that was a date.”

“You want something better than that? I’ll take you to dinner, to a movie, anywhere you want.” His voice got lower, thicker—so much so that my cheeks burned.

“I don’t want something better. I don’t want a date.”

“I think you do.”

“What is wrong with you? Not every woman is going to fall at your feet, you know.”

“I don’t want you to fall at my feet. I want you to go out with me. And I don’t want every woman.” We’d reached my car, and he stepped into me so I was trapped between his body and the door. “I just want you.”

I was almost panting although I was trying to hide it. “Well, you’re not going to get me.”

He lifted a hand to cup my face. “I think you like me, schatzi.”

“You think wrong.” Then I paused. “What is schatzi?”

He looked faintly surprised, and I could see he hadn’t even realized he’d said the word. “It’s German.”

“German for what?”

His smile warmed. “German for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “If it’s some sort of endearment, you have no business calling me that. I don’t even like you.”

“Yes you do.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb, and the little touch sent shivers all the way through me. “You do like me. You’re blushing. And you’re trembling.”

“I am not trembling, and if I am, it’s because I’m so annoyed with you.”

“Nice try, but you’re not convincing me.” He lowered his face slightly, his eyes never leaving mine.

He was going to kiss me.

I knew it.

I knew it.

And I wanted it so much I could almost taste it.

But I hadn’t wanted something so much in years. I hadn’t felt so out of control in a really long time.

And it would lead me places I might not want to go.

So, acting on the flare of panic, I ducked my head and slipped away from where he had me trapped. “I’ve got to go. I don’t like you as much as you think.”

I didn’t intend to sound mean. I just needed to get away from him.

Henry was frowning as I slammed my driver’s door and turned on the ignition.

I couldn’t tell if he was hurt or disappointed or confused or what, and I didn’t dare take the time to figure it out.

I just drove home, wishing he’d decided he’d liked Vicki instead.

I might have been jealous—I definitely would have been—but at least I would have been safe.