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But I didn’t.

I sat at the kitchen table, sipping my tea and trying to quiet my thoughts.

Rafe came back a few minutes later. “All set. You’re guarded better than Fort Knox now.”

“Sure I am.”

He smiled and took the seat across from me, picking up his mug of tea. “How was the museum?”

“It was amazing. I ended up at MoMA.”

He lit up. “Any day with art is a great day in my book.”

I told him about the paintings I saw, how I fell in love with the color plum, and how I’d liked a Dali painting that was totally not my style—everything I’d said to Calder and more. But the conversation was much, much different. He asked questions. Real ones.

“What did you like about it?”

“What made it stand out for you?”

“Would you hang a print of it in your house?”

I found myself talking more than I had in days—weeks even. The only time I’d been this chatty was on the thirty-five-hour drive to New York with Nat, and that had been out of necessity, because we were cooped up in a car. This conversation wasn’t that. Rafe listened like it mattered. And that made me believe it did.

We talked for what felt like twenty minutes, but when I finally glanced at my phone, my eyes widened. “Wow. It’s almost midnight. Actually, is my phone right? It can’t be that late, can it?”

Rafe pushed the button on his phone and angled the screen toward me. 12:02 AM

“God, I’m sorry.” I stood abruptly and set my mug in the sink. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Here you are trying to be nice and calm me down, and I end up taking over your night.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t. Really.”

I gave him a small smile. “Thanks for everything. The mouse. The tea. The breakfast this morning.”

“You’re welcome,” he answered with a crooked, boyish grin.

My gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. I needed to get out of here. Like now. “Uh, thanks again. Bye.”

I practically ran out of his apartment, up the stairs, and into mine, double-locking the door behind me. Inside, I found myself breathing harder than I had after my hour-long run this morning. I leaned my forehead against the door and tried to steady my heart.

Because the truth was: it wasn’t the mouse that had it racing anymore.

CHAPTER 9

Things are getting back to normal. I just know they are.

I’d managed to not run into Rafe at all yesterday after our late-night chat on Monday. It was now Wednesday, and I vowed to continue avoiding him, if I could help it. I had myself convinced that if I just stayed away from him, my little problem would go away.

I called Calder to further prioritize returning to reality.

“Hey, baby,” he answered. “Is everything okay? You don’t normally call me in the morning.”

“I know.” I sighed, closing my eyes. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“I heard about the mouse.”