“You will never believe what she did.” Erica’s anger was like whiplash.

I kept going down the stairs, but my mind and everything was still on the roof. He’d wanted to make sure I was okay, that I wasn’t scared of him. I had never considered that possibility.

“She’s such a bitch.”

I tuned back in to what Erica was saying as I got to my floor and went through the door. “Who’s a bitch?” Wait, she’d already said that. I had heard it. “Susan. What did she do again?”

“First, she backstabbed the senior reporter. She’s out. Susan got her kicked off the project, and I have no idea how she did it, but she’s trying the same with me. Susan’s trying to scoop me.”

I frowned as I got to our apartment and pulled out my keys. Fumbling through them, I found the right one and unlocked the door. As I did, I stopped. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, but I didn’t feel fear. I felt him. Slowly, I straightened upright. The phone fell away, and I looked where I’d just come from.

Kian was standing there. He was watching me.

This would’ve been creepy if it were anyone else, but remembering the stark need on his face while on the roof as he’d said he wanted to make sure I wasn’t scared of him pushed everything out of me. I held up a hand to him.

He waved back. “Making sure you got there okay.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“Jo?” Erica was calling from my phone.

I held it back to my ear, but I was riveted by Kian. I could see him better now in the hallway. With the lean cut of his body, the jeans he was wearing, the black sneakers on his feet, and even how the whites of his eyes seemed to stand out from how tan his skin was—he was gorgeous.

The corner of his mouth lifted, and I knew he’d caught me checking him out. Ducking my head down, my cheeks got red, and I shoved inside my place. The door swung shut behind me, and I leaned back against it.

I was so stupid, checking him out after everything. I shook my head at myself, but then heard Erica’s voice again.

“Jo! Hello? Jo, where are you?”

“Sorry. There was a guy in the hallway.”

“You weren’t home? I thought you got off work an hour ago. Where were you? Wait.” She paused. “Is he hot? Please tell me he’s a new neighbor.”

“I’m home now, and no, I don’t think he’s a neighbor.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Wait. How’d you get home?”

I sighed, pulling open the fridge to grab a water. “Jake walked me home.”

“Was that Jake? Please tell me it was because I’d like to rub that in Susan’s face. I swear, she’s just as possessive of him when he’s not Tara’s boyfriend than when he was.”

Sinking down on a chair, I put my water on the table and gripped the phone tighter. “Erica, you called me for a reason. You don’t usually call to vent when you’re working.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m not working. I’m at the Wine Cellar. I was more calling to have you come down here, so I could vent to you in person. Wanker couldn’t come. He said something about throwing up. I don’t know what he meant. He’s never sick, so it couldn’t be because of that, but whatever. Can you come down?”

“To the Wine Cellar?”

Kian was probably leaving the building right now.

Erica kept talking. Venting. Wanker. Wine Cellar. It was all jumbled together.

I turned toward the balcony.

Could I see him?

“Uh-huh,” I murmured to the phone as I stood from the table.

There was no conscious thought. My body moved that way. The light was left on. If he looked up, he would catch me. I didn’t care, and I sank down on one of the chairs. I’d just been there, not even an hour ago, hiding from people who had been chasing after me. I was back, and I was the chaser now.

There he was.

I leaned over the railing, and Kian came out the side door. As he did, he stopped in the sidewalk. His hands searched inside his jeans pockets, and then his head straightened. He twisted around. He was gazing up. I ducked down, but I could still see a little bit.

He was staring right at my apartment.

I was eight floors up, and it was dark out, but he continued to look up. My forehead pressed against the railing, and I gripped my phone so close to my head that Erica could probably hear the street sounds through it.

“Jo?” she said.

“Yeah?” I murmured, clearing my throat.

Going back to my knees, I peeked again, but he wasn’t there anymore. I couldn’t see him up or down the street. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He was a ghost now.

“Will you?”

I cursed. I’d missed so much in this conversation. “Yeah. Sure. No problem.” What had I agreed to?

“Great! I’ll save you a seat, but I have to warn you that some of the others from the newspaper are here, too.”

I’d agreed to head down to the Wine Cellar. “Oh. Yeah, give me ten minutes to get there.” I glanced down at my uniform. “Make that twenty.”

“I’ll have a drink ready for you. Thank you, Jo!”

“Yeah. Okay.” I hung up, and I couldn’t help myself. I looked one last time before heading back inside.

There was no Kian below.

It was the next morning.

Erica was hungover, and I was late for work. I rushed from my bedroom, but stopped at the sight of Wanker stretched out on our couch. Somehow, Wanker had slept over. His shoes had been kicked off. His shirt was pushed up as he was idly scratching at his chest, and he had his other arm flung over his face, his nose stuck into his elbow. He was snoring, too.

Erica came out of her room at that same time. She made a beeline for the coffee pot.

I held up two fingers. “One, I need a cup of coffee, too. And, two, how did he get there? He wasn’t at the Wine Cellar with us last night.”

She grinned, filling a cup. Before pouring the second cup for me, she lifted her mug and took a good whiff of it. “Heaven. My God,” she groaned, tipping her head back with a dreamy smile, “I need this to keep me awake today.”

“Hey.” I held up my hand. “Don’t make me jealous. Pour me a cup, too.”

She poured me one as well, and when I grabbed it, Wanker moaned from the couch. He sat up with his hair sticking in the air and a nice bulge in the front of his pants. He looked down at it, up to us, back to it, and then sighed.