I’m walking past a bar, head down, purse clutched close, heading back home after a long, dragged-out walk to clear my head. I look up, confused. I don’t recognize that voice. I glance around, wondering who the hell is calling my name when I see him. He’s jogging towards me, a grin on his perfect damned face.

Jack.

Great.

Just what I need. How is it possible for him to keep running into me? I mean honestly, what are the chances of that? Maybe he is stalking me, it wouldn’t surprise me. He’s persistent. I’ll give him that much.

“Fancy running into you here,” he says, coming to a stop.

My eyes drop to his boots—unlaced black biker style, all scuffed and sexy. I slowly move my gaze up, over his faded blue jeans and up over the dark tee that clings to his chest far too perfectly, finally settling on his eyes. Those eyes. Breathtaking.

“Do you like what you see?” he drawls.

I flinch and take a step back. “Are you stalking me? Seriously? How the hell do I keep running into you?”

He grins. “Good way to avoid the question, and no, I was at that bar when you came galloping past.”

“I wasn’t galloping,” I snap. “I was power walking.”

“You were pissed off walking.”

I raise my brows. “And you can tell that how?”

“You had this cute as hell scowl on your face, and you were practically breaking the pavement you were slamming your feet down so hard.”

I meet his eyes, then I roll mine. “I was in a hurry.”

“You’ve also been crying, which means I’m right and you’re wrong. Want to tell me why?”

I blink at him.

“Firstly, how the hell did you know I was crying?”

“Your eyes are glassy.”

His answer is matter of fact. Straight down the line.

“And secondly,” I manage, thrown by how right on the money he is, “why would I tell you what’s wrong? You’re a perfect stranger.”

He winks at me. “I love when you compliment me.”

Oh. My. God.

Cocky bastard.

“Answer the question; your head doesn’t need to get any bigger than it already is.”

“Well, sometimes it’s good to tell a perfect stranger what’s wrong. They can’t really judge you.”

I snort. “I don’t see how your logic works. Sorry.”

“Give me a try,” he says, crossing those muscled arms. “You might be surprised.”

“No, thanks, I’m thinking I’ll pass on that one.”

“Like playing hard to get, do you?”

I blink again. “This isn’t me playing hard to get. It’s me not being interested. I’m sure there are plenty of other women out there who would happily throw themselves at all that—” I wave my finger around “—charm and good looks.”

“So you do think I’m good looking?”

Jesus.

“Bye, Jack,” I say, turning and continuing my path home.

“Let me walk you home,” he calls out after me, following behind.

“No, thank you.”

“Right, well I’ll just follow you then.”

“That’s stalking,” I say over my shoulder.

“It’s a public sidewalk, I’m allowed to go wherever I want when I’m on this sidewalk.”

Creeper.

But a smile tugs at my lips. I make sure he doesn’t see it.

“Well, you can do just that,” I say. “But you can stop talking to me while you do it.”

“I’ll just talk out loud then.” He chuckles, and I can hear his boots stomping along behind me.

“Go right ahead, talk away,” I mutter, picking up the pace.

“Walking faster won’t make me go away.”

“It would seem nothing would.”

He laughs. “We both know you don’t want me to go away.”

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see.

I say nothing, I just keep walking.

“When can I take you on a date, Baylee?”

I keep walking, shaking my head. “You can’t.”

“Yeah, I can. When?”

“No. You can’t.”

“Can.”

“Can’t!”

I have no doubt he’s grinning right now. The shit stirrer.

“I’ll win you over.”

I reach my apartment and spin around. “Keep dreaming, and while you’re at it, keep walking. I’m not interested.”

He looks up at my apartment, then glances back down at me and winks. “I know where you live now.”

Dammit.

“There are five other apartments in there, perhaps a nice girl in one of those will put up with your terrible stalker-ish behavior.”

He grins bigger. “Now I know there’s only five, it’ll be easier to find you.”

One day, I’ll learn when to close my mouth.

“Goodbye, Jack. If you come to my apartment, I’ll pepper spray you.”

His booming laughter follows me all the way into the building.

And he’ll never know just how big my smile is.

Never.

~*~*~*~

“Come on, Baylee,” Ellis, my co-worker from the deli says, putting her hands together. “Please? It’s my birthday.”

I grind my back teeth together but stare at the pretty dark-haired girl bouncing around in front of me and know I can’t say no. Dammit. I can’t say no. It’s her birthday and her mom has been so good to me, letting me move my shifts around whenever I need to do something with Rae.

“I’m coming,” I say, inwardly crying as my aching feet scream at me.

“Yay!” she chirps. “Go and get cleaned up out the back, you can get a ride with me.”

Forcing a smile, I walk out to my locker and pull out a dress I keep in there for occasions like this. It isn’t the first time we’ve all gone out after work, but it is the first time I’ve had to do it when I really, really just want to curl up in bed and sleep for a week. I slip into the toilet stall, get changed, and then come out and wash my face, run a brush through my hair, and re-apply some basic makeup.

That’ll do.

I head back out and Ellis is standing by the door. “Everyone is there. Come on.”

I follow her outside to her car, and we climb in, heading to the same bar I went to the other evening with Shania. With tired feet, I slip out and we line up, Ellis chewing my ear off about her boyfriend the entire time. When we make it into the club, we find the rest of the staff from the deli standing by a booth and head over.