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“This it?” he asks, pulling into the parking lot for my apartment building.

“Yes, drive around back. It’s the second building.” My voice is soft as I reach for the door handle, saying, “Thank you, Royce.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists.

I don’t have it in me to argue with him, and even if I did have the energy, I wouldn’t want to. We spent four hours together on a plane, and somehow it feels like a piece of me is missing. I see him every day, but he’s not the same person. I’m realizing his layers run deep. I want to peel back each one and observe and memorize everything about him. I wish I could say it’s the wine that’s making me talk this way, but it’s not. It sounds crazy even to me, but that’s the only way I know how to describe it.

Maybe I should look for a new job.

“You’re not getting fired.”

Shit. I said that out loud. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drunk that much. I was nervous, and it was there, and… it was wrong, and I’m sorry that you had to take care of me.”

We stop outside my apartment door, and I turn to face him. He leans in close, and I move until my back hits the door. “Taking care of you isn’t that bad.” His eyes glance at my lips and then back to my eyes. “There are worse things in life, Sawyer.”

“You like routine.”

He nods. “I do.” He leans in, and I lick my lips, certain he’s going to kiss me. “Sleep well, Sawyer. Lock up behind me,” he says softly in my ear before his lips press against my cheek. He steps away from me, and I already miss the heat of his body next to mine.

“Thank you for tonight.”

He nods.

Turning, I reach for the door handle and realize I don’t have my keys. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My keys.”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “I should have thought about that. Well, it looks like we’re headed back to my place.”

“I can just call Hadley. She has a spare.”

“Sawyer, it’s late. I have a spare room you can crash in. When we wake up, I’ll take you to get your car.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say, burying my face in my hands. “I keep messing up, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This isn’t who I am. But when I get around you… it’s like I lose all common sense.”

“I already know you think I’m sexy.” He winks.

I gape at him. “You remember that?”

“Sawyer.” He pauses to make sure he has my attention. “I remember everything when it comes to you.” He reaches out and offers me his hand. “Let’s go.”

Tired of fighting this pull he has over me, I place my hand in his and allow him to lead me back to his car.“Wow, not at all what I was expecting,” I say as he leads me into his house.

“What were you expecting?” he asks, tossing his keys on the kitchen island.

“I don’t know. More of a bachelor pad, I guess.”

“I’m thirty-two.”

“And that means what exactly?”

“Just because I’m not married doesn’t mean that I live like I did in college, in a party pad.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. I guess I just didn’t expect it to be this clean and… homey.”

“Do I look like a man who lives in filth?” he asks. There’s humor in his voice.

“I should just stop while I’m ahead. It’s the wine talking.” Likely excuse, but I’m going with it.

“Uh-huh,” he replies playfully. “Here.” He hands me a bottle of water. “Drink this and take these.” He holds out the other hand with two Tylenol. “I know how those headaches that could kill Clint Eastwood can be.” He winks.

“Playful Royce,” I say before tossing the tablets in my mouth and downing half of the bottle of water.

“Owen is the serious one.”

“I don’t know. I think you give him a run for his money.”

“You seem to think you know my brothers and me awful well.”

“I do.” I nod. “I’m a quick study.” I give him an overzealous grin, and he shakes his head in amusement.

“This I’ve gotta hear. Come on. Let’s go sit down.” He holds his hand out for me, and I take it without hesitation. It feels intimate to be here with him like this. I know that’s not what this is, but I like being here in his space—having his attention. Well, playful and sweet Royce can give me all the attention. Broody CEO Royce can stay at the office.

He lets go of my hand and points to one end of the couch while he settles on the other. “So, tell me about my brothers and me.”

“Easy. Marshall and Conrad are the lively ones of the bunch. Being the youngest, they’re still sowing their wild oats, so to speak. Grant, he’s a mix of the four of you. He’s still in that ‘I’m young and cool’ stage, while he’s getting older and wiser like you and Owen. He knows that there’s more to life than partying all the time, but when Conrad and Marshall call him for a ride, he knows where they are because he was there not long ago himself.”

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