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The moment it hits my tongue, it begins to melt, overwhelming my taste buds with cacao and a hint of sugar and overwhelming the rest of me with such a strong wave of nostalgia that when I close my eyes, a single tear rolls down my cheek.

“You are crying over a chocolate bar,” I chastise myself, wiping the tear with the back of my hand. It’s just chocolate. Good chocolate.

As I place the bar back where I found it, I am pleasantly surprised that the weird dirt-like aftertaste is completely gone. I return to the note, needing to append to it.

Chocolate saved the day. Thanks.

The rest of my evening follows my usual, familiar pre-Mackenzie pattern of reheating the weekend’s takeout and eating it on my couch while watching a blissfully predictable Hallmark movie. The only difference is that I go to bed an hour and a half earlier than my usual eleven-thirty bedtime and set my alarm for one-fifteen. I get dressed in my usual pajamas, which are an old U of T T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I plan to wear them to the MRI since no one will see me in the dead of night, other than Phillip, who will be so preoccupied looking at my brain that he won’t even notice the sizable hole in the crotch.

It takes me a little longer than usual to fall asleep, but when I do, it’s hard and deep. When my phone alarm rips me back to reality, I wake with a physical jolt, then have to wait for a solid minute for my poor confused heart to slow to a regular speed before I can sit up.

My room is dark, as is the main living area of the apartment. I don’t bother turning the lights on as I tiptoe past the couch, using only the flashlight from my phone, to find my purse and hoodie and put on my shoes.

However, as I reach to unlock the door, the knob begins to turn on its own. My still-half-asleep brain doesn’t fully clue in to what is happening until the door swings open and I’m standing toe to toe with Mackenzie Smith.

“Whoa.” He drops his guitar case on the floor with a loud thud and grabs my arms, although I’m not sure if his intention is to steady me or the other way around. My next thought is of how warm his hands are and if they just came from his pockets or if he naturally runs hot. That, in turn, sends an unexpected rush of heat through my body.

“You scared the crap out of me.” I press my hands to my now frantic heart, which did not sign up for this much late-night activity.

“Sorry, about that.” He reaches down and picks up his guitar. “I was trying to sneak in, didn’t think you’d still be up.” His eyes do a quick scan of my outfit. “You heading somewhere?”

I fiddle with the ponytail I went to bed with and didn’t bother to brush out. “I am just meeting someone…a colleague.”

“Oh.” His face breaks out in a knowing smile. “Enjoy, I guess.” He steps to the side, letting me pass. It isn’t until I’m on the landing that I realize what he’s thinking.

I whip around. “I’m not—we’re not—It’s not a booty call.”

He holds up his hands. “I wasn’t judging.”

I do not want to explain to him where I’m actually going.

“It’s just a meeting…at work.” I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth.

Mackenzie nods. “Okay.” He glances at his phone. “But you’re not walking there, right? I mean, it’s after one.”

I had planned on walking. Spadina is a main street, and I do carry two different types of bear spray, though I’ve never had to use them.

“Let me walk you.” Mackenzie steps back into the hallway. “I’m sure you’re totally capable of getting to where you need to go, but I am still a guy from a small town, and where I am from, if it’s after midnight, we live and die by the buddy system.”

I try to tell him that I’m fine, that he should go to bed, and that only one of us needs to be up in the dead of night for an intensive brain scan because only one of us is having vividly intense visions while wearing his leather jacket. But before I can find a believable way to communicate this, he has closed and locked our door, and we are walking down the stairs, and then we’re out on the sidewalk heading east.

“So.” Mackenzie drops behind me, then steps around, putting himself between me and the road. “Do you normally have work meetings in the middle of the night?”

I decide to keep my answer as close to the truth as possible. “No, but my colleague and I need to run an emergency MRI, and the machine is booked basically all day, every day. This was the only time slot we could get.”

Mackenzie nods as if what I’ve just said makes sense before he turns his head away and brings a fist to his mouth, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

“You know you really don’t have to walk me. You must be tired.”

He’s yawning again, but he doesn’t try to hide it this time. He lets it out with a rushed exhale and smiles. “It’s all good. Got that post-show adrenaline pumping, and this is the perfect way to burn it off.”

“How are the shows going?”

“Good, I think,” he says. “We get a big crowd, and they seem to be having a decent time, but honestly, it’s hard to tell if it’s the music or just the beer. You should come check us out one night. I feel like you’re the kind of person who would tell me the truth.”

“I am?”

He smiles and tilts his head. “Yeah. I get the sense you’re pretty straightforward—I like that. You always seem to stick to the facts.”