I heard the shower turn on and then off again a few minutes later and retreated back to my bedroom to give Rosie her privacy. I was expecting her to avoid me. I was half-expecting her to hate me for continuously prying into her private business. Therefore, I was very much not expecting the soft knock on my bedroom door.

I opened the door and found myself face-to-face with perfection. Rosie was fresh out of the shower and wrapped in one of my fluffy white towels. In just one of my fluffy white towels.

Rosie’s damp hair tumbled around her narrow shoulders, and little beads of water clung to the tips of the damp ringlets. The droplets dripped down occasionally and ran down her smooth, pale skin like my fingers wanted to do. Her cheeks were flushed dark pink.

I didn’t even try not to stare at her. There was absolutely no point. I couldn’t not stare at Rosie any more than I could wish that her grip on the towel would slip. It was impossible.

“Rosie?” It was my turn to stutter.

“I’m really sorry that I snapped at you,” she told me. Her eyes were huge in her face again. Like her father, Rosie was quick to react in anger. Unlike him, however, she was also apparently quick to apologize when she felt she’d overreacted or judged someone unfairly. I found myself enjoying her fiery spirit. I liked that she was a bit feisty. I liked it even more that she was sensitive, too.

“You don’t owe me any apologies,” I answered her, still feeling like this situation was entirely unreal. “I’m the only one who should apologize. I’m sorry for asking questions about your personal life.”

“No. I do owe you an apology,” she insisted. Her bare feet shuffled on the hardwood. Her little toes were just on the edge of the threshold. I felt like our conversation was also on the threshold of something—I mean she could have put on clothes before coming to apologize—but I wasn’t exactly sure what.

I wasn’t sure I should hope that Rosie had come to seduce me, but I was definitely hoping for that. Long and hard.

I shook my head to deny that she owed me anything, but Rosie was already forging ahead. “I shouldn’t have assumed you had bad motives,” she told me, pouting her full, red lips. “You haven’t been anything but kind to me. He’s really manipulative, so I guess I assumed you wanted something from me, too. But you aren’t him. You deserve the benefit of the doubt.”

The idea was laughable. I deserved noting of the sort. My motives were entirely impure, especially at the moment. But even aside from my desire for Rosie, my motives were fundamentally not what she thought. I stopped myself from telling her everything, but something that was possibly even worse slipped out instead:

“Are you always this way?”

She blinked. “What way?

I shook my head at her. “So generous.” I spent time around self-centered rock stars and soul-sucking lawyers. I hadn’t met the sweet and wholesome type in a very long time.

A little smile appeared on her pretty face. “You think that? Well, thank you. Considering how mean I’ve been to you, that’s really something. Maybe you need some new friends.”

I felt the corners of my own mouth drawing upwards. I thought about my brother, Jason Kane, Victoria Priestly and the other troublesome rock stars I dealt with regularly. Some of my clients were basically just walking migraines. Rosie wasn’t anything compared to the client that would call at two a.m. because someone had violated their rider and given them blue M&M’s. “Maybe you’re right.”

Rosie took a deep breath and looked me square in the eye. “Perhaps I can help you with that. Do you want to come to my birthday party tonight?”

My lips parted in surprise. Was Rosie asking me out? I suddenly didn’t know how to reply. My brain struggled to compute what was happening.

It’s one thing to fantasize about someone. It’s one thing to flirt with them. It’s one thing to want them. It’s another thing entirely to do something about it.

My first thought was that Rosie was lot braver than I’d given her credit for. She was a lot braver than me. My second was that I should let her down gently, as I had no business being anywhere near her.

I took a deep, slow breath. “Rosie, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her face fell. “Oh.” She traced the threshold of my room with her big toe and clutched the towel a bit more tightly around herself. “I thought you liked me. I’m sorry if I misread you.”

The look she was wearing made me want to jump off a cliff. “I do like you, Rosie, it’s just… your dad is my boss… I’m a lot older than you…” I fumbled for an explanation that would make her stop looking so sad. My words did the opposite of what I’d hoped.

“Never mind,” she said, moving to retreat, “you don’t have to explain. Just forget I said anything.” Her expression cleared. She’d swallowed her disappointment and was putting on a brave face.

My brother’s words from the night before echoed in my brain: She’s a grown woman, man. If you like her then you should respect her enough to let her make her own decisions about what she wants.

She’d clearly decided. It was my turn now.

Fuck it.

I reached forward, grabbed Rosie by the shoulders, and kissed her.

She gasped a little in surprise when I drew her forward, but she didn’t jerk away. Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned forward up against my chest. Rosie let me kiss her, parting her lips in an instant and yielding to my invasion of her space. My mouth sought hers eagerly, insistently, and entirely inappropriately.

I found that I didn’t care. I’m not usually an impulsive person, but I couldn’t regret kissing Rosie. Even if she was nineteen. Even if she was my boss’ daughter. Even if she was dressed in just a towel and knocking on my door to apologize. I felt zero guilt for giving her exactly what she’d been looking for since that first blush.

Her kisses were sweet, eager, and innocent. I barely spared a thought to wonder if she’d been kissed this way before. If she hadn’t, she was a very quick study. Her tongue danced along mine, stealing my breath when I was trying to steal hers. My hands dropped from her shoulders to her waist and squeezed her there, marveling at how well our bodies fit together. Holding her felt entirely natural, and perfectly right.

When we finally drew apart, she was breathless, flushed, and shocked. I considered pulling her all the way over the threshold and into my room. I wondered if she’d let me. But at the same time, I didn’t want to rush her. If I was going to do this with Rosie (whatever it was ‘this’ was), I was going to do it right.

“Does that mean you’ll come to my birthday party?” she asked after a moment. She was staring at me like she couldn’t quite believe that I’d just done that. I knew the feeling.

“Yes, that means I’ll come to your birthday party,” I told her. My body was insisting that I pull her inside my bedroom and out of that towel immediately. I ignored it.

“Ok good,” she said, taking a step back out of my reach. “Well, I’m going to go get dressed now so we can go check out the apartment.”

She traipsed away with a skip in her step, leaving me to wonder if I was a complete idiot who’d just fallen into Rosie’s trap, the luckiest guy on earth, destined to lose my job, or all three. It was probably all three.