Page 56 of Mr. Match

But in the meantime… I need to figure out a way to get Oliver’s attention tonight.

If my life is going to fall to pieces, then I want to spend every minute I can with the only man who can put me back together.

Chapter Twenty-Five - OLIVER

“I’m outta here,” I say, calling to Ariel as I make my way down the stairs to go home. “Longest two fucking days of my life.”

“OK,” she calls back. “See you tomorrow.”

I wish I could take tomorrow off. I wish I could take the rest of the week off, to be honest.

Ever since the guys left I’ve been checking my window for signs of Katya. Relentlessly.

Not even a light on in that place. In fact, I don’t even know if that’s her apartment, so spending an entire afternoon pining for her is stupid.

When I get outside I remember I drove the Camaro instead of the bike and a wave of disappointment rolls over me. I love the car and all, but the bike always makes things better.

I get in, start it up, and make my way down the alley. My house is less than two minutes away, so I turn right and start rumbling down Jefferson. I’m just about to get in the left lane so I can turn into my driveway when I catch a glimpse of a girl sitting at the bus stop bench across the street.

“Katya?” I ask out loud. I swerve the wheel and pull up next to her, tabbing the window down. “Kat?” I call.

She smiles.

And then I realize what she’s wearing and I smile too. Her makeshift Parson School for Girls uniform—complete with unauthorized tartan skirt, white knee socks, and blue blazer.

“Do you need a ride?” I ask. It’s almost dark but there’s an orange-red sunset off in the west that makes her whole face glow.

“I’m waiting for my brother to pick me up from school. And if he sees you talking to me, he’ll kick your ass.” She twists her hair and bites her lip as she says this.

“Is that right?” I say, trying not to laugh. “What if I said your brother told me to come get you and take you home and keep you safe?”

“He did?” Kat says, standing up and straightening out her skirt.

“He did. Get in,” I say, leaning over the passenger side to open the door for her.

She grabs her purse and slips into the seat. I rev the engine as I drive off and then go around the block so I can enter my place from the back.

Maybe I do get lucky every once in a while. I could’ve picked her up on the bike, but it’s not nearly as sexy as the Camaro.

“So you were waiting for me, huh?” I ask.

“I was hoping for dinner. Did you already eat?”

“No. I just left work. What did you do today?” I cut the engine and look at her in the approaching darkness.

“Painted. Took some photos. Sold one online. Packaged it up to mail tomorrow. What about you?”

I smile at her. “Same old shit. Sister meeting. Mister meeting. Paperwork. Stalked your building from my office window hoping for a shadow in the curtains. Assuming that’s your apartment.”

“Peeper,” she says, sliding her hand onto my leg. It’s hot. Or maybe it’s not. But it feels hot through the denim of my jeans. I look at her hand for a second and then find her eyes. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“You bet,” I say, placing my hand over hers.

“Not afraid of me?”

I shake my head. “Never.”

“Did you talk to Ariel this afternoon? About me?”