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“Not with him. He has his apartment, and we have ours. They’re not even on the same floor.” Calder looked at my face and stepped closer, setting his hands on my shoulders. “It’s not going to be like that. I promise.”
“Like what? I haven’t even told you what I’m thinking.”
He smiled. “I know you. You’re picturing the frat house I lived in sophomore year.”
That thought had entered my mind…
Calder brushed his thumb along my cheek. “We’re not nineteen anymore. We’re all working. We’ll be busy. He’s got galleries and commissions. I’ve got Wall Street hours, and you’ll have your job soon.”
I glanced back into the open second-floor apartment. Art. Boxes. The single life.
“Rafe’s a good guy,” Calder added. “He’s not a partier. He was actually the responsible one in our group when we were growing up, even though you’d never know it by looking at him.”
“I moved here to build a life with you,” I said quietly.
“And that hasn’t changed.”
Somehow it felt like it had. Not dramatically. Just maybe slightly off center. Maybe if I’d met Rafe before, I wouldn’t have felt so uneasy. Despite how long Calder and I’d been together, we’d spent most of that time in Montana, which meant I’d never had the chance to get to know his close friends.
“He’s family,” Calder said. “And Mrs. R really needs the help.”
How could I complain when there was a woman living downstairs in a wheelchair, one who had already lost her husband, and her health was failing? I exhaled. “Fine.”
A smile curved along Calder’s mouth. “That’s my girl.”
“Is he here?” I asked. “I guess I should meet him.”
“He just went out to run some errands. But he has an art show tonight. I thought maybe you, Nat, and I could go.” Calder paused, and his eyes shifted over my shoulder, down the stairs. “Actually. He just walked in.”
I turned.
A man was taking the stairs two at a time. Blond wavy hair. Long strides. Lean, but solid. And—
Oh no.
It was him.
Shirtless stoop guy.
The power washer.
He slowed as he reached the landing, eyes locking on mine.
Then he smiled.
And it was nothing like Calder’s polished grin. This one was crooked. Boyish. A little dangerous. Like he knew something I didn’t.
Everything in my gut told me I was not going to feel better about living with Calder’s friend once I got to know him. Just the opposite.
“Hey,” he said, voice deep and raspy. “You must be Talia. I didn’t think I was going to get to meet you until after the show.”
But I’d already gotten one show in Brooklyn. I managed a smile. This one was going to be hard to look away from.
CHAPTER 2
I’d never seen anything like it.
As I sat at the breakfast table across from Calder the following morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe’s show. It had been mesmerizing.
