“You’re wearing that to Coney Island?”

It takes me a moment to realize that Shiloh has no idea where Rhys and I really met, not to mention the fact that I was at the Sexton to finish writing a romance novel. The novel which is still only half-written. I’m wearing the same dress he bought me during our first official date. It’s a dress that most definitely doesn’t go with cotton candy and carnival rides.

“Actually, I lied about my birthday weekend. I went to the Sexton Hotel not Coney Island.” I’ve told her so much already, this seems like a harmless enough confession.

She stares at me for a beat. “You’re kidding!” she finally says, her eyes lighting up with interest. “That hotel? The one where whatshisface, that hot actor, was seen screwing his costar against the window? Isn’t it known for that sort of thing? Wait a second, how did you even afford a room there? I know it was your birthday and all, but…I personally would have bought a pair of Louboutins.”

“I’m going to be late if I don’t get going soon,” I say, quickly realizing that I’ve just opened the floodgates to far more questions than I can answer right now.

“Oh no you don’t,” Shiloh says. “I have so many questions! You can’t leave me hanging like this.”

“Do you really want me leaving Rhys sitting at that bar thinking I’m not going to show up?”

She purses her lips and glares at me, then sighs. “I suppose the poor boy has earned it. But don’t think that gets you off the hook when you come back. I want details.” She leans in with a sly smile. “Especially if tonight ends up being the night.”

After we finished listening to Thursday’s show, Shiloh wouldn’t even let me return to my own room without firm assurance that I would say yes to tonight.

My coworkers were even more adamant the next day.

Holly: “Oh Prynne, you have to go. He sounded so sad.”

Jermaine: “Girl, if you don’t go, ya girl will. I’ll have that boy switching teams faster than you can say ‘two balls and he’s out’!” Even I caught that double meaning, and laughed.

Even Peter chimed in: “Just fucking say yes so I don’t completely lose my lunch over here.”

Truth be told, I was sold the moment that older caller talked about remarrying after his wife died. I thought about growing old with Rhys, him continuing to make me both blush and laugh well into our golden years. I knew even before Rhys began closing the show with that sincere plea that he was that someone I wanted to just…be with.

“We’re just talking, getting to know one another better,” I say to Shiloh as I stand in front of her full-length mirror.

The wax job from last weekend has held up surprisingly well. I had no idea it would last this long. Perhaps it will finally be put to good use. I smile at the thought.

“Are you sure you don’t want to borrow my heels again. Your shoes are cute but—”

“They’re mine. That’s what’s important,” I say, staring down at the black pumps I bought specifically to go with this dress. No complicated straps or luxury label stamped on the inside. Most importantly, comfortable and easy to slip out of…or stand in while wearing nothing else. Again, I have to hide the secret smile I feel.

“Okay, okay, go, go!” Shiloh says, looking at the time and directing me out of her room. Caryn is gone thankfully. She’s actually been going out more than usual these days. Perhaps Eric got a real job, one that allows him to have his own place. I’m feeling enough romance and optimism in the air to want some of it to rub off on her. I hope the two of them are happy. Maybe it will make her a little bit less miserable as a roommate.

At the door, Shiloh leans in to kiss me on the cheek and then squeeze me into a hug. I’m surprised at how touched I am by the gesture.

“Give him a chance. Everyone deserves to find someone special.” There’s a gleam in her eye as she says it and I wonder if it’s because she’s thinking about finding her own someone special. The hint of a smile that touches her lips makes me wonder if maybe she already has.

I think about Rhys probably already at the bar by now, wondering if I’m going to eventually show up. I quickly kiss Shiloh on the cheek and rush out the door.

During the ride into Manhattan, the butterflies in my stomach refuse to let up. I feel almost like I’m headed for another first date. The ideas rolling around in my head about all the things we should have done last weekend are certainly not first-date material.

When I finally arrive at the Sexton Hotel and walk into the front entrance, I’m fully expecting cameras to start flashing or crowds of people pointing and whispering. Although Rhys was appropriately ambiguous about where he’d be tonight, I’ve been worried some listener would easily figure it out and decide to do a little stalking.

But it’s the typical hotel lobby, a few guests, a doorman who greets me, other patrons who are also headed up to the bar for a night of fun. I start to relax when no one seems to be paying any particular attention to me. Even Chris, who must surely recognize me by now is occupied with some guests. By the time I reach the rooftop bar, I’m back to feeling giddy again. I wonder what tonight will bring?

It’s Saturday and the bar is spectacularly hip and modern so it’s packed. I have to search, craning my neck and leaning this way and that, before I finally catch sight of Rhys. When I finally spot him, the rest of the room falls away. Even the music seems to die down a little.

He’s at a table near the window, nursing something that looks like whiskey as he stares out at the vibrant view of New York City. I take a moment to admire him, knowing I can’t possibly be the only one here doing that. Even with the slightly hound dog look on his face, he’s gorgeous.

I’m earning my own looks as I walk toward him. I know it’s the dress more than anything. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination. It makes me wonder what it would feel like walking through this crowd wearing nothing but the heels on my feet. The wild shock of pleasure that consumes me at the idea is nothing compared to what I feel when Rhys finally turns and notices me.

“Hello, Jane,” he says with a grin as I take the seat across from him. Even with this loud music thumping so hard, his deep voice easily carries right through it so I can hear every word. Jermaine has a point, it is like candy for the ears, the kind that needs to be enjoyed a bite at a time, savored as it rolls across your tongue before swallowing.

“Hello, John,” I reply, taking my cues from the show, which I’ve listened to religiously this past week. I have to shout to be heard and his face wrinkles with frustration.

He hops off his stool to come around and lean in toward my ear. “I love a crowd as much as the next person, but perhaps we should take this someplace more conducive to conversation.”

I could die happy right here with nothing but his voice in my ear, filling it with that deep, sexy baritone. But he’s right, tonight is about more than just showing off for a crowd, as much as the idea also tickles my own prurient imagination. I smile to myself as I think of all the things I’ve imagined doing to him. I’m feeling bold enough to try at least one of them tonight.

Rhys, you have no idea what you’re in for.

He leads me by the hand through the crowd. After paying for his drink we end up in the small foyer where the elevators are located. I don’t even need to ask where we’re going. After all, this is our place. Rhys draws me in closer so that my body is pressed against his. It reminds me of that first night when he pulled me in for a kiss on my front porch, mostly because I’m wearing the same dress.

We stare at one another like two silly, lovestruck teenagers, the minor little blip of last weekend already forgotten. It lasts so long without interruption that we eventually break out into laughter. It’s the final little crack to completely destroy the last bit of tension between us.

“Okay, so before I agree to go any further I have to ask you something,” I say, suddenly getting serious.

Rhys stares down at me with those piercing blue eyes. “Ask me anything.”

“You don’t really drink beer when you eat Cheerios, do you?”

He throws his head back and laughs. I feel the vibrations against my chest.

“I’m serious!” I say, even though I break character by laughing myself. “That was so disgusting.”

“Are you kidding? It’s the breakfast of Champions.”

“Really? Ugh.”

“I believe there is a certain pair of hot pink panties which would beg to differ.”

“I thought it was a joke, but now I don’t know what to think of you,” I tease.

“Okay so no beer with her morning cereal, got it. I’m enjoying all this getting to know you.”

“Well, we’ve just found something that we disagree on.”

Rhys is serious again. “That’s what I wanted tonight to be about. Exploring each other, baring everything. No more secrets. Do you think you can handle it?” He raises a questioning eyebrow.

“I’m a lot less shy than I once was,” I say with a smirk.

“Well then, you ready to expose yourself to me?”

“Do you think you can handle it?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Well, let’s do this,” I say, just as the elevator doors open.