Page 26 of After Midnight

My phone pings where it’s lying on my chest, and I snatch it up, heart racing, preparing myself for Remi to either let me down easy or straight up tell me to get a life.

I’m off on Mondays and Tuesdays.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, barely believing my eyes. Is this real? I shake my head, just to make sure I’m actually awake and didn’t fall asleep after eating that last slice. But the message still stares back at me. “Holy. Shit.”

I wasn’t sure how she’d respond; I wasn’t sure she’d respond at all. But she did.

Mondays and Tuesdays. Today’s Monday, so it’s too late for that. Could I see her tomorrow? No, no, that’s way too soon, and I don’t want to scare her off, like I have a tendency of doing. Maybe next week?

I quickly call Ashton. She answers on the second ring.

“Hey, Seb. What’s up?”

“Are we in the studio next week?” I ask.

Ashton doesn’t miss a beat or even pause to look at a calendar; she’s a superhuman that way. “The studio? No. But you have a promo shoot this Saturday.”

“But nothing next Monday or Tuesday, right?”

“Nope. Why?” There’s a beat of silence, then, “Is this about that girl you met in Vegas?”

I almost groan. “Who told you?”

Ashton laughs. “I’m not giving up my sources. But you be careful, okay? I don’t want some maneater ripping your heart out.”

Her concern makes me smile. “I will, Mom. Promise.”

She lets out an annoyed breath at my nickname for her. “Is that it?”

“Yup. Night.”

“Good night.”

I end the call and sit up on the couch, accidentally kicking one of the throw pillows to the floor. So, I’m free next Monday and Tuesday. And it sounds like Remi might be interested in seeing me again. I could fly back to Vegas, spend Monday night there, then come back on Tuesday. That could work.

“Okay, I absolutely cannot mess this up,” I say to myself as I stand from the couch and pad across my living room to the sliding glass door, which looks out over my deck and all the way to Big Rock Beach and the ocean in the distance. Then I turn and pace back to my couch. “I’ve gotta be cool about it. Chill.” I take a breath and run a hand over my head.

Monday night? You pick time and place. I’ll be there.

I read it over a few more times, and I think it’s okay. Should I ask Nora, just to be sure?

No, I can do this.

My chest lifts with another breath. And I almost close my eyes as I hit send. The text whooshes away. A minute passes, then two. She hasn’t responded yet. Suddenly restless, I toss my phone onto the couch and immediately walk into my kitchen, where I pour a glass of water and finish it in three gulps. Exhaustion pulls at me. I really need to sleep.

But I want to text Remi more.

My phone hasn’t gone off yet, so I keep myself busy with putting the leftover pizza in the fridge and cleaning up the kitchen and living room. But since I haven’t been here the last few days, there isn’t much to clean, so it doesn’t take long before I’m back to lying on the couch, holding my phone, wondering what she’s thinking. Has she read it yet? Is she going to—

Monday night. I’ll pick you up at 8.

It makes my heart palpitate. I read the text again, then one more time for good measure, and I’m grinning by the time I let my arm flop down onto the couch.

Next Monday. I’m going to see her again. And she’s going to pick me up, which is perfect, since I have fuck-all in way of directional awareness. And now that I think about it, I can’t remember if a woman has ever picked me up for a date before.

Is this a date? I have no clue. But . . .

I’m going to see Remi again.