Caleb was the first to admit that this was a risk. Maybe even a bad move. If Yvette and Kat’s expressions were anything to go by when he walked into their favorite bar with Kennedy at his side, this may have been a terrible idea.

Kat for one seemed happy to see her, though Yvette was a little more guarded. In her defense, she’d been the one he’d been complaining to all week since she was an objective bystander and not the good Samaritan who’d helped him score this gig in the first place.

And the gig he loved. Admittedly it was probably below his pay grade. But then again, was it? While he could memorize lines easily and could cry on demand, his skill set off camera was far less impressive.

It was pretty much nonexistent.

Over the course of this past week he’d learned just how ignorant he was about the world of people that were behind the scenes of television. Oh, he’d long admired the crew who worked on set—the director, the grips, the sound guys, the makeup crew—but he’d never seen the day-to-day operations that went on behind the scenes.

And it was fascinating. Truly. He knew the other interns, and Kennedy for that matter, thought he was either being insincere with his excitement, or was perhaps just too eager to please.

And he was that as well. But could anyone blame him? This was his first job, to some extent. His few new venture into a foreign world, and he had something to prove. He wasn’t like these college kids who had the world ahead of them. He had to make the most of this chance because what other options were there?

But while he truly enjoyed learning about the multiple facets that go into television, he had yet to find one that seemed like a good fit. So far nothing had felt as amazing as losing himself in a role, in playing a part that entertained people and made them happy.

Sadly, he was no less aimless today than he had been on Monday.

But then again, perhaps it was ludicrous to expect to figure out his entire life plan in the course of one week. Maybe it was even asking too much to want to sort out a career path in that time.

No, he needed to relax about it all. Take a deep breath and trust in the process. Or trust in Kennedy, at the very least.

He glanced over at the stunning woman sipping a glass of wine beside him—his boss, sort of. Definitely his superior. While she’d been nothing short of awful to him as a person, he respected the hell out of her as a professional. He’d heard what everyone had to say about her and saw the way she interacted with everyone who was not him.

Literally, every single human who was not him was treated to an entirely different demeanor.

Oddly enough, he found that heartening. Yvette, on the other hand, thought he was a moron. But then, she pretty much always thought he was nuts. She was diametrically opposed to his way of thinking in general, even now when she’d found the love of her life and had to admit that true love was a real thing and not just widespread propaganda pushed down society’s collective throats to continue the propagation of the human race.

Those were her words, not his.

But despite Yvette’s hesitation, he’d decided that Kennedy’s apparent repulsion was a good sign. The opposite of love wasn’t hate, right? It was apathy. And Kennedy was not apathetic when it came to him. It was clear he brought out some strong feelings. Strong negative emotions, apparently, but he’d take what he could get.

Besides, it wasn’t like she was the love of his life or anything. She wasn’t the dream woman he’d been searching for his entire life, much as he might have convinced himself that she was that night.

But that night he’d clearly been drunker than he’d realized.

And that was fine. He didn’t need her to be the one. He just wanted her to stop actively hating him. That was all. For a man who was known for his charm, that shouldn’t be too difficult a task.

Yet all week his attempts to get through her thick defenses had been a disaster. Each time he smiled, her frown intensified. He might not need her to love him, but he needed her help which meant he needed her to get past whatever injury he’d accidentally caused by sleeping with her.

It still nagged at him. It had been good, hadn’t it? It had been better than good… for him, at least.

Okay, fine, maybe his ego was at stake here just a bit. Or a lot. He needed to know that he hadn’t completely turned this woman off because of that night. He didn’t think of himself as a terribly egotistical person but he wasn’t sure his fragile male pride could handle that sort of blow.

So tonight, he’d get to know her outside of work. He’d get her to see that he wasn’t the player douchebag she must thing he was.

Even though she was the one who’d kicked him out.

He ignored that voice. Getting annoyed with her wouldn’t help anyone’s cause, and so far this night was off to a great start. After some initial awkwardness, Kennedy seemed to be having a good time. He’d even caught her laughing and smiling when he’d told his friends about his first week at work. Progress!

The problems started about an hour into the night when some friendly acquaintances who’d joined them started to head off to other plans they’d made for Friday night and he and Kennedy were left at a long table with Yvette and Darren, and Kat and Bryce.

It wasn’t the company that was the problem, it was the fact that they were couples. Which made it strongly seem as though he and Kennedy were the third couple. A triple date, as it were. Which they most definitely were not. She wasn’t his type, and he was apparently the bane of her existence.

The fact that they were at the end of a long table didn’t help matters any, either. At one point the couples were talking amongst themselves, clearly caught up in their own little idyllic worlds.

Not that Caleb was bitter or anything… though it had struck him on more than one occasion how insanely unfair the world was that his two friends who didn’t want nor believe in an epic love had found it without even trying. When meanwhile, he’d been searching since puberty.

He knew she was out there. He wouldn’t give up. He’d never—

“So,” Kennedy cut into his thoughts, swirling her glass as she studied him. “Thanks for inviting me out tonight. It’s been fun.”

He frowned. That sounded like the start of a bail. It’s been fun, but… I’ve got to get up in the morning. It’s been fun, but… I have to walk my dog. It’s been fun, but…

“You’re not leaving yet.” Okay, that had come out a tad more intense than anticipated.

She looked up in surprise. “Well, I should—”

“Nope.” Ah, what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. He refused to let this night end without some sort of satisfying understanding between himself and his new boss. That night could not have been that bad. And if it was, he needed to apologize.

And try again.

No, not try again. Obviously neither of them wanted that.

Yes, we do!

Clearly his stupid dick was doing the dumb thinking around here.

She arched her brows in surprise and she looked… sexy.

Shut up, penis.

She looked surprisingly human. Not nearly as intimidating as she had been all week, even though she still sported the too-tight bun, the severe black blazer, and the sensible pumps. “Excuse me?” She also looked confused, and rightly so. He supposed she wasn’t used to being told she wasn’t allowed to leave a happy hour event.

But he needed to talk, dammit. And this was the perfect time, when they were away from the office and she was in rare form. And by that, he meant human and not an automaton.

He cleared his throat and shifted a bit away from the rest of the table. She furrowed her brows but did the same, clearly curious.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to say you couldn’t leave, it’s just… I don’t want you to.”

Her face went expressionless.

Fuck, he was already off to a bad start.

“I mean… I didn’t mean… ah shit.” He blew out a long exhale and went to try again but he noticed that her lips had curved in, like she was pressing them together, like she was…

Oh fuck me, she’s trying not to laugh.

That did it. He burst out laughing and she did too.

God, her laugh was awesome. It was better than he’d remembered. It was husky and low, and sexy as hell. Her eyes met his and for one second he had a glimpse of her. The woman he’d gone home with.

The one who’d disappeared in the cold light of day.

“I’m not allowed to leave?” she asked. She arched her brows again, this time in challenge.

Oh hell, he would never try to challenge this woman. She could clearly kick his ass any day of the week. She was the exact opposite of what he’d always been looking for—someone soft, sweet, nurturing.

This woman was cold as ice and scary as hell.

And hot, his penis kindly reminded him.

Yes, penis, we hear you.

He cleared his throat, grateful that her eyes were still lit with laughter even if her challenging look was mildly terrifying. “Of course you can leave. I just thought it might be a good idea if the two of us talked.”

She blinked once, giving nothing away. “About what?”

About how you gave me the single best night of passion I’ve ever experienced. Yeah, maybe he should tone that down a bit. “About the other night.”

He saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes at the memory and his cock stirred hopefully in response.

Calm down, boy. There would be no repeating that particular mistake.

Unless she wanted to.

But she wouldn’t want to, dummy, because she clearly regretted it.

That thought stung no matter how many times it struck him. She regretted it. The night that had made him happier than he’d ever been had been a mistake for her.

Shit.

She hadn’t spoken, and aside from that slight, unintentional acknowledgment, he might have been speaking another language.

All the more reason for him to get this over with.

“I’m sorry,” he said on a rush of air. But he wasn’t sorry, that was the thing. He didn’t regret that night, but if she did than clearly he’d been doing it wrong.

Her face grew even less emotional, if that was possible. “Why are you sorry?”

Excellent question. His mouth hung open but no words came out.

She shifted slightly in her seat. “Look, you don’t have to apologize. We were both at fault. I was just as much to blame for that mistake as you were.”

Mistake. He flinched at the word and after a brief narrowing of her eyes, she averted her gaze.

For some reason he found himself talking. Maybe he wanted to get her attention back—her gaze might be intimidating but it was an odd sensation to be in her particular spotlight. It made him want to impress her. No, not impress her. It made him want to be better. Her attention made him want to be worthy.

She had an air of a goddess about her. Strong, powerful, benevolent, wise.

And kind of scary.

“I don’t normally do things like that,” he said.

Her eyes met his and he felt a surge of… something. Something electric and powerful, a sensation he felt to some degree or another every time she looked in his direction, but none more powerful than that night. That night when she’d looked at him like a woman looking at a man, and not a boss glaring at her underling or a friendly acquaintance agreeing to drinks.

“You don’t normally share a cab?” she asked. Her expression was so serious and her voice was so bland, he almost could have missed the hint of teasing in her eyes.

Holy shit, that was such a turn on.

He kept his voice just as serious, his expression just as grim. “Never.”

“Well,” she said, reaching for her glass. “That’s good to know.”

Just before she took a sip, he caught it. That flicker of a grin as her laughing eyes met his.

Right then and there he decided—he needed to see that smile again. He needed to see that woman again, the one underneath her businesslike demeanor. The one who’d teased and taunted and laughed and kissed him like he was the only other person on the planet.

“How about you?” he asked before taking a sip of his own drink.

He saw her lips twitch with mirth. “What about me?”

He leaned forward, dropping his voice down several octaves. It was the voice Dr. Brandon Reeves had used to seduce his mistresses and the viewers. “Do you often share your taxi?”

He watched her eyes darken in response, whether it was the tone of his voice or the not-so-subtle innuendo.

“And what if I do?” Her voice took on that husky tone that he loved. The one that made his mind go way down into the gutter.

He shrugged. “No judgements over here. I just…” Ah hell, how to say it? “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t…” He dropped the sexy voice and the teasing tone. “I hope I didn’t offend you in any way. Or take advantage or—”

Her eyes widened as she reached across the table, her hand on his. “No! Definitely not. You didn’t take advantage and it wasn’t—”

He watched in awe as this poised, elegant femme fatale struggled for words like a normal human being.

“It wasn’t bad.”

He stared at her as she took a big gulp of her wine. His lips had parted to say something but then his dick started talking instead. “It… wasn’t bad?”

Jesus. It wasn’t bad? He shook his head and turned to look around the bar as if some salvation might be found there, far far away from this woman. She might as well have used those sensible pumps to crush his nuts. It wasn’t bad.

When he looked back he saw her doing that thing with her lips again. She was pressing them together. He watched in amazement as she lost the battle with laughter, shaking her head as an honest to God laugh was torn from her. “I’m sorry,” she said, gasping for air. “That came out wrong.”

“You think?” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Fuck me, she’s gorgeous when she laughs. And when she sips her wine, and when she glares. She was just beautiful, makeup or no makeup, hair up or down. The woman was strong, confident, and powerful. She was a sight to behold.

He ignored the fact that her laughter had Yvette, Kat, and the others looking in their direction. Leaning across the table, he gave her a teasing smile. “Do you perhaps want to try again?”

Still smothering a laugh, she nodded. “Yes, please.” Shifting in her seat, she toyed with her wineglass as her expression turned teasing. “The other night was good.”

“Good,” he repeated, certain now that she was teasing.

“Great?” she offered, laughter clear in her voice and sending a tidal wave of desire coursing through his body.

He gave a little snort of disgust. “You better believe it was great.”

“What was great?” Kat asked from further down the table. His gaze shot to his friends, who he’d kind of forgotten about entirely.

“Nothing,” he and Kennedy said in unison. His eyes shot back to hers and they both burst out laughing.

“Okay,” Yvette drawled. He could practically hear her eye roll but he didn’t care. His friends went back to talking amongst themselves and he and Kennedy were once again back in their own little world.

“So,” he said. “It was great, huh?” He couldn’t have held back the cocky swagger in his voice if he’d tried. And he didn’t try. He was having fun flirting with Kennedy, even if this was quite possibly the weirdest form of flirting he’d ever experienced.

“Easy there, tiger,” she said. “It was spectacular, but it was also a one-time thing.”

That was a splash of cold water, but the look in her eyes belied her statement. He could have sworn he saw the same desire reflected there but he didn’t know what to make of it. She was clearly into him.

Or into his body, at least. He wouldn’t go so far as to claim that she was into him. She’d made it very clear that she was not. He found himself frowning at her and her small smile faded in response.

“Why don’t you like me?” Also, why did he sound like a fifth grade girl? Shit. He’d never been “cool” but he didn’t typically turn into a needy little bitch on a first date.

Or non-date. This was obviously not a date, despite the fact that he and Kennedy were the only non-couple hanging out.

She widened her eyes in surprise…or maybe it was alarm. “I, uh—I don’t not like you—I just, um—”

Her stammering was rather endearing, but he could practically see her coming up with excuses. Oh what the hell. He already looked like a fool, might as well get the truth out of her because, like it or not, he hated the fact that she hated him.

“You’re the actor.” He infused the words with the same disgust she’d done, mimicking her sneer quite well in the process, if he did say so himself. He arched one brow and gave her a little smile to ensure she knew he wasn’t angry.

And he wasn’t angry. Just confused, and a little hurt. What had he done to her to make her so disgusted by his mere presence? Most women liked him. Hell, most women threw themselves at him.

But this one seemed to think he was a blight on mankind.

She winced at his impersonation. Say what you will about his role on Days of Love but he could do a mean impersonation. It was right up there on his list of skills next to crying on demand.

“It’s not you,” she said. “I just… don’t like actors.”

Well, he couldn’t say he was surprised by that answer. “Why not?”

She shifted again, and he experienced an odd surge of triumph at finally being in the position to make her uncomfortable for once. He felt like he’d been squirming under her critical gaze all week.

“It’s not personal,” she said. He saw a flicker of pleading, there and gone quickly, but he took pity.

“Okay, fine. It’s not personal,” he said. Even though he had been an actor for nearly a decade.

She shifted again, her fingers tapping against her glass. Clearly she didn’t believe that he believed her. Probably because she wasn’t an idiot and he didn’t believe her.

She licked her lips and the action made him groan softly. Dammit, this woman couldn’t keep being so seductive if she was going to insult him and his life choices.

“It’s not like I hate actors,” she said, sounding for all the world like she was trying to convince herself as well as him. “I just could never date one.”

And there was the punch in the gut he had not seen coming. It seriously felt like she’d jabbed her hand straight into his solar plexus and was rooting around for his heart.

He was being melodramatic, he told himself.

But then again, he was an actor.

He took a long sip of his drink, not trusting himself to respond. He was a laid back guy by nature. He didn’t like conflict and he certainly didn’t get bent out of shape over some comments that a prickly, cold co-worker said. Even if she had been hot as hell in bed.

But much as he tried to remind himself that he did not seek out conflict, that was apparently exactly what he was doing. “What’s wrong with actors?”

He met her gaze and watched as she set her jaw and pressed her lips together into a thin line. So, he wasn’t the only one on the defensive.

Good.

“They tend to be impractical.” She lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “They’re often flaky. And they’re dreamers.” She said that last part like it was an accusation. She might as well have said, and they’re pickpockets.

He found himself staring at her with his mouth partially open, at a loss for where to even start. “Have you even met an actor before?” He shook his head. “Look, maybe some are flaky and some are impractical, sure. Just like some HR executives are probably sloppy or immature.”

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice under control. He did not lose his temper, dammit. Like… ever. But her words made him think of the cast he’d worked with for the past decade. Yes, there had been a couple divas in the bunch, but for the most part they were hard-working and down to earth. “Do you have any idea how motivated and determined someone has to be to make it in that field? They have to face rejection daily, and still get out of bed each morning with the same enthusiasm and determination. A good number of them take demeaning jobs or work several jobs at once just to pay the bills so they can keep doing what they love.”

He leaned back, forcing himself to take another sip to calm his rapidly elevating pulse. “The actors I know work crazy long hours on set under varying conditions, spend their downtime memorizing and reading and studying, if not auditioning for other roles, and all while keeping their bodies in optimal condition on their off time.”

Kennedy’s eyes were wide with shock as he set his glass down. He caught Kat giving him a curious look from across the table but he ignored her. He couldn’t seem to look away from Kennedy. He didn’t know why her opinion mattered so much to him, but it did. And he hated the fact that she couldn’t see it.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I promise I didn’t mean you.” She bit her lip and the small show of vulnerability was nearly his undoing. This woman was such a badass that the little gesture felt gargantuan. “I’ve been really impressed with your work ethic this week.”

Her praise felt too good. The worst part was, after everything he’d just said about actors, he felt a little disgusted with himself and entirely unworthy of her praise.

He rubbed his eyes, suddenly weary and tired. “Sorry, I just…” He looked up and met her gaze as he laughed softly. “I guess I wish I had the kind of determination and ambition that my fellow actors have.”

Her brows pulled together and she leaned forward. “What are you talking about? You’ve been working your butt off this week, and your attitude has been great.”

He laughed again, simultaneously loving and hating the fact that she was basically giving him an employee evaluation.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I meant that if I had their determination maybe I wouldn’t have quit acting just because I got killed off the show.”

Her expression softened and she dropped the HR executive routine. “Is that what you want? To keep acting?”

He thought about it. He’d thought about little else since he’d found out he was going to lose his role. “Yeah. I mean, ideally I’d get to keep doing what I love every day, right? But when I think about going out into that world, taking roles I don’t want to pay the bills, or having to wait tables to make ends meet. I’m just not sure I’m up to it.” The sad truth of it settled over him, making him feel like a failure. For the first time since he lost his cushy gig, he saw himself in a new light. He saw himself from her perspective, and he wasn’t sure he liked what he saw.

She studied him. “Maybe you just don’t want it enough.”

He nodded slowly. There was some truth there, and he took comfort in it. If he really wanted something, he would go for it. Wouldn’t he? “I’ve also never tried anything else, so there’s always this question in the back of my mind. What if I found something else I loved?” He shifted, leaning forward, wanting to be closer to her, even though she was quite clearly his harshest critic. Or at least his most critical. “I had an acting teacher who always used to say, if there’s anything else you might be happy doing, do that instead. Because it’s a hard life and not everyone is going to make it.”

“Practical advice.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “I approve.”

“I’m so glad,” he teased. Then he turned serious. “I guess I just feel like I’ve got to see if he’s right. I need to at least see if there’s something else I could be doing that would be equally satisfying.”

She tilted her head to the side as if to see him better. “So that’s what you’re doing with the internship?”

He nodded. “That’s what an internship is for, right? To try out positions and industries?”

She pursed her lips before blowing out a long exhale. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”

He wished he knew what was going on in that brilliant mind of hers, but the fact that her tone and her expression had taken on a new look, one that was filled with something like admiration, that was enough to make his heart soar.

He temporarily forgot that he’d been beating himself up for not sticking with acting and for trying something new.

When Kennedy leaned back in her seat, her gaze was entirely too watchful, her tone too casual. “So tell me, what is it you like about acting?”

Uh oh. “You’re not going into work mode on me, are you?”

Her quick flash of a smile told him he’d hit the nail on the head. She shrugged, unrepentant. “Helping people find a good fit in life is what gets me out of bed in the morning,” she said. “It’s why I love what I do and why I made a career out of it.” Her smile spread and she laughed softly. “So yeah, I guess I am going all work mode on you. But humor me, you might find that I’m pretty good at what I do.”

She gave her another half shrug. Kat had wanted to have this same conversation with him but he’d pushed back. Maybe he just hadn’t been ready to talk about it when she’d tried to have the ‘what color is your parachute?’ conversation. Or maybe it had just seemed too weirdly intimate. But here, now… what the hell?

He looked up to the ceiling, watching the overhead fan circle as he thought about her question. What did he like about acting? “Despite what you may think, it’s not about the fans and the daytime Emmys. It’s about losing myself in something and helping other people to lose themselves too.”

He dropped his gaze and met Kennedy’s straightforward stare. He let out a small sigh. “You probably don’t need escapism like the rest of the world, but take my word for it that there are some people out there who are disheartened by what’s going on in the world, or overwhelmed by the stress of their daily life. They need an escape and I like that I can help provide that.”

He thought she was going to laugh, but instead her brow furrowed. “I need escapes too. I understand the concept.”

A laugh bubbled up in his chest at her defensive tone. One would have thought he’d just accused her not paying her taxes. “I’m sure you do.”

“I do.” She opened her mouth but then seemed to change her mind and he was left wondering what she’d been about to say.

That was when it occurred to him. He’d been an escape for her. That night. It had been a guilty pleasure, an escape from her real world. He supposed he shouldn’t be offended… but that didn’t stop his gut from churning at the thought.

Which was ludicrous because she’d been a diversion for him as well. That was all it was meant to be. It wasn’t her fault he’d gone and read too much into things that night. He always did have a propensity to be a romantic and it shouldn’t have come as a shock that he’d read too much into amazing sex.

Reading too much into things was kind of his thing. Kat and Yvette teased him mercilessly for his ability to get carried away early on in a relationship. He may or may not have thought he’d found the one multiple times during a first date. It typically wasn’t until date two or three that his eyes were opened to the truth about the woman he was seeing.

Though, to be fair, he’d never gotten carried away on the first night meeting someone. Like every other time his eyes were opened, the truth slapped him across the face. And the fact that she was just as cynical about their little tryst as he now was made it feel like a double slap for some reason. No, a punch. Boom, boom. Two quick punches to the gut.

He didn’t realize he’d been scowling until she broke into his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

Her expression changed to match his and he gave a grudging smile at her over the top frown. But his pride was still stinging… and maybe something else. He wasn’t at ease and his normal laid back, easy charm was nowhere to be found. “I don’t know,” he said, with more than a little huffiness. “I guess I’m just waiting for you to mock me for being an actor again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, I never mocked you for being an actor.”

“You admitted you hate actors,” he said. Yeah, he was picking a fight. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“I just meant that I don’t date actors,” she said, her tone getting sharper.

“Good,” he said. “Because I don’t date judgy judgertons.” He’d said it with a haughty air and when her lips started to twitch in response, it was almost impossible not to join her.

“Judgy judgertons?” she repeated.

He stifled a laugh with his drink. “It’s a real term.”

“Uh huh.” She sounded unconvinced but the tension between them eased as they both laughed at him.

“Look it up,” he continued.

She rolled her eyes again but this time she was smiling. “I’ll take your word for it. But point taken.” She cleared her throat and met his gaze. “I guess I do have a tendency to be a bit… judgy.”

He grinned. He couldn’t help it. He had a feeling he’d just witnessed a miracle akin to some dude walking on water.

Kennedy Farlow had just admitted to being judgy.

Somehow life felt complete.

The fact that she instantly went back to being defensive made it that much more entertaining.

“You made your point about the dedication involved in acting and you’re right that maybe I’m too quick to jump to assumptions based on livelihood. However…” Her ‘however’ was loud and vehement. “Livelihood does reflect a person—their values, their skills, their priorities, and I think even you’d agree that actors are not terribly practical by nature. You said it yourself, it’s a tough field so to get up each day thinking you’re going to be the outlier who makes it big takes the personality of a dreamer, not a practical person.”

He blinked at her stupidly. He couldn’t argue with that, though he was fairly certain she’d just put him in his place. Or in his category, rather. He was once again relegated to the undateable zone.

Which was fine, because he’d meant what he’d said about not dating judgy women, which she admittedly was. “Fine,” he said. “So you don’t want to date me. I get it.”

Her mouth snapped shut.

“I’ll have you know you’re not my type either,” he continued. Shit. Why did he have to get the last word in? Now he felt like a petty asshole. He was about to drop the conversation, or change it at least, when Yvette’s teasing voice next to him interrupted their conversation.

“Oh no,” she fake groaned. “He’s not talking about his ideal woman again, is he?”

Kennedy’s gaze turned to him. He considered elbowing Yvette to keep her quiet or maybe just running away to get the hell away from Kennedy’s all-seeing stare. But before he could do either, the conversation got away from him.

“His ideal woman?” Kennedy repeated, using the same silly tone Yvette had used. It was a tone that openly mocked the idea of an ideal woman.

In his defense, he didn’t believe in a theoretical ideal woman, either. But he did believe that there was a woman out there for him. His one true love. And since Yvette and Kat had each found her one true love, it boggled his mind that they still acted like it was an impossibility.

“Oh yes,” Yvette said. “She’s amazing.”

Kat rolled her eyes and leaned in, clearly eager to add her jokes to the comedy show. “She’s also mythical.” To Kennedy she said, “Think of a unicorn, then imagine a leprechaun. Caleb’s dream woman lives somewhere between the two of them on the mythical charts.”

Kennedy gave a snort of laughter as Caleb leaned back and pretended not to care that his best friends were openly mocking him and his dream woman in front of Kennedy.

Kennedy—the woman who’d said several times now that she would never date him. Not that it mattered, he supposed, but a man still had his pride.

And this particular man also had a penis, which was enraged to hear that he would never get another chance to sleep with her.

But it was for the best. She was his supervisor, and they worked together, and she hated actors, and she irritated the hell out of him, and he’d actually lost his temper for a second there, and—

And his list was cut short as he heard Kat and Yvette taking turns listing off the dream woman assets.

“Funny, but not sarcastic,” Kat said.

“Nurturing and sweet,” Yvette continued.

“Kind to animals,” Kat said.

By this point Kennedy was outright laughing.

He looked to Bryce and Darren but they were talking to one another and apparently oblivious to the fact that their girlfriends were sabotaging his date.

Not that this was a date.

It wasn’t.

But if it was…

If it was it would have been over before it began. Because in a sense they were right. Those were all attributes he’d like in his ideal mate, and not a single one of them applied to Kennedy.

Well, maybe she was nice to animals. He didn’t know. All he knew was she wasn’t terribly nice to people, and that was number one on his must-have list.

And yes, he did have a list. There was nothing wrong with that. No one ever got what they wanted from life without having a vision of it first. And he had a vision. Now the universe just had to get on board and send her his way.

The conversation eventually, mercifully switched to something else. The new, safe mundane topic revolved around the latest movies that were playing. And while he had to fight the urge to remind a surprisingly passionate fangirl named Kennedy that the movie she was so psyched to see did, in fact, require actors—he resisted.

The tension was gone and she was having fun, and surprisingly so was he. Hours passed and drinks were drunk and by the time they were getting ready to leave, he found that he didn’t want to go home.

Not alone, at least.

Maybe there was no hope for the two of them, and obviously she was not the girl of his dreams. But like it or not, his body liked her body. And his brain, he could admit, was a little smitten with her brain.

He had a crush, plain and simple. Maybe a bit of an infatuation. He could be honest with himself, and it was clear that she affected him more than a random hookup should.

This was the best explanation he could come up with for why he lingered. He said goodbye to Kat and Bryce, then Yvette and Darren, as he and Kennedy nursed their drinks. She was the first to make a move for the door. Though, he noted with interest, she didn’t look like she was in a rush. Maybe she’d been enjoying the conversation as much as he had been.

And maybe, just maybe, she was hoping this night would end like their last encounter.

His heart leapt at the thought and his body went into overdrive. Maybe it was the drinks talking, but it suddenly seemed ludicrous that they weren’t fucking on a regular basis. Like, right now.

Why weren’t they?

Because she’s not the one, his brain reminded his dick. And he was a romantic who didn’t believe in sleeping around with random women. Not regularly, at least. That last time had been a fluke. A drunken mistake… that was also one of the best nights of lovemaking of his life.

Hard to call that a mistake, actually. And if they did it again, would that qualify as a mistake? His penis clearly said no. His brain and his heart were suspiciously silent. But it might be a moot point, because she’d clearly thought that last time was a mistake and that was before they’d known that she was his superior.

So yeah, this would definitely be a mistake.

It wasn’t until they were out on the sidewalk that Kennedy broke the odd new silence between them. “So,” she said. “You waiting on a cab too?”

He glanced over and caught her wicked smile—the one he hadn’t seen since that night. His brain made a popping sound before fizzling out completely. It was official. His brain was no longer running this show. That smile had ruined him for logic and reason.

Penis, it’s all up to you now.

“I’d be willing to share a cab,” he said in his best Dr. Brandon Reeves’ voice.

She laughed softly. “Would you now?”

He nodded. “It’s environmentally responsible.”

“Mmhmm.” She was studying him openly and he held himself still, afraid that the wrong move would ruin everything.

The fact that this was most likely a mistake suddenly didn’t seem to matter. At all. The only thing that mattered was that he be allowed to taste those lips again, touch those curves, feel that glorious hair.

Fuck. Nothing had ever mattered more.

It was a sickness, an infatuation, a disease, an addiction. Whatever it was, it was all consuming. And the only thing keeping him from this new necessity in his life was whatever internal debate was clearly going on in that clever mind of hers.

Her next words caught him by surprise. “So, you have a dream woman, huh?”

He caught himself before he could flinch. He didn’t want to think about the future Mrs. Jennings. Not now when he was hellbent on sleeping with this woman. He didn’t trust himself to talk so he murmured his assent. Did he have a dream woman? Yes. Was this woman her? No. But was she the woman he needed tonight? There could be no doubt.

“From what your friends said, it sounds like I have very little in common with this magical, mythical woman of yours,” she said.

He smiled at her teasing tone but kept quiet. There was really no good way to answer that, especially not if he stood a chance in hell of having a repeat performance of the best sex ever.

She gave him a sassy look as her head tilted to the side and her lips curved up. “You know, you’re not my dream man either.”

He let out a short laugh even though the words were surprisingly painful to hear. He wasn’t that much of a cocky asshole to think that he was God’s gift to women. He knew he wasn’t every woman’s cup of tea.

But he selfishly wanted to be this woman’s dream guy. What would it feel like to be the one who made this woman open up? The one who made her smile and laugh and drop that cold, reserved exterior that she wore like a shell?

He shook off that thought, because really—how incredibly selfish. You’re not the one for me, but I want to be the one for you. No, he wasn’t that asshole. He chose not to be. So he forced a smile. “Great. Good.”

Her smile was mocking. “Awesome.”

“Glad we got that squared away,” he said. His gaze never left hers and despite the teasing, there was something going on there. Something unspoken. Something that filled the space between them and made the atmosphere feel heavy and dense.

Fuck, this was attraction. It was physical and undeniable and it resonated in the air around them like a force field.

They stood on the brink. They could laugh it off and walk away, go back to being supervisor and intern on Monday morning. Or, they could act.

He could act.

A nervous churning in his gut only heightened his desire, it added an element of suspense and anticipation. A terrifying thrill at the possibility of being rejected, of ruining this tentative truce they seemed to have forged, or maybe even a new understanding they’d discovered.

If they walked away now they might be able to be friends. Or friendly work acquaintances, at least.

If they continued… well, if he continued they’d be entering into new, unchartered territory.

She licked her lips and the decision was made. Fuck the consequence. Screw the long-term ramifications. He needed to have her, just one more time.

“It’s too bad, really,” he said, taking a step closer to where she stood frozen on the sidewalk.

“Oh yeah?” Her voice was breathier than he’d ever heard it. Shit, her voice was sexy.

He nodded. “Someone told me the sex between us was good.” He grinned. “Great, even.”

Her eyes were smoldering, her lips parting in invitation. “Is that right?”

He nodded again, watching her closely, praying desperately that she wanted this as badly as he did.

After a moment she tilted her head to the side and looked up at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He caught the teasing glint in her eyes and he narrowed his gaze. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged, clearly feigning nonchalance. “Just because we’ve ruled one another out for long term possibilities doesn’t negate the fact that the sex is great.”

Did that mean… Was she saying…?

“I mean, great sex is great sex,” she continued. “It doesn’t necessarily have to occur within a relationship.”

He stared at her for a moment. “You are so sexy when you talk logic.”

Her head fell back as she let out a soft laugh. Her smile made him want to reach out and let her hair down. He ached to see her wild with abandon once more.

Just once more.

Never dropping her eyes, she lifted a hand to hail a cab. When a yellow taxi pulled up beside them she headed toward the back door. Reaching for the handle, she turned back to face him. “So, what do you say? You want to share a cab?”

He didn’t hesitate. In fact, he nearly stumbled over his feet to scramble in behind her. As soon as the door was shut, he was all over her. She laughed, pulled back slightly to give directions to her place, and then she turned to him, her lips meeting his as he crushed her to him.

The ride felt interminable. He couldn’t wait to get there, to make her his, just once more.

Fuck. Mistake or not, they were really doing this.