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“How are you feeling about it?”

“I’m a little nervous but excited overall.”

“What about the job makes you nervous? You’re gonna kill it.”

“I just hope I like it. We spend more waking hours at work than we do at home.”

“Bingo.” He nodded. “Exactly why I feel lucky not to have a typical day job. There’s so much bullshit in the corporate world. And no loyalty. I give you credit for swimming with the sharks. I think I’d go insane.”

Rafe didn’t realize he was the biggest threat to my sanity at the moment.

“Well, my goal is to write full time someday. I would love to make my own hours and spend a good chunk of the day creating. To me, that’s living the dream.”

He nodded. “You’ll get there. You just have to believe it. Not only believe it, but live it. Do you have a writing schedule now in your free time? Picture yourself where you want to be. Pretend you’re already a famous writer. Act like it.”

I gave him a look. “That’s manifestation 101, Rivers.”

He arched a brow. “You calling me a basic bitch with my advice?”

I laughed. “Not at all. But that’s manifesting in a nutshell. I’ve studied it. So many people do it wrong. They think manifesting something means focusing on it intently, wishing for it constantly. When we focus on something too much, sometimes fear gets in the way. If anything, that brings you further from what you want. But if you can just…feel it, without stressing about it, you know? Be there now, live like it’s already happening? That’s what brings you closer to it.”

He stared at me. “Feel it, huh? I like that.”

“Yeah…” I murmured.

As he looked at me, I somehow felt it between my legs. Can’t say anyone else had ever activated me like that with merely their eyes.

I need to get out of here. On that note, I checked the time on my phone. “I’d better get going.”

“Aren’t you gonna put in your laundry?” He chuckled.

My head was stuck in my ass around this man. “Oh.” I attempted to laugh it off. “Duh. I should do that, right?”

“Washer’s empty. No reason not to. I checked it for mice. So you’re good.”

I smiled and quietly loaded my sheets and pillowcases into the washing machine. After adding some detergent, I closed it. “Have a good day, Rafe.”

“You, too. Good luck at the publishing house.”

“Thank you.”

On my way up the stairs, my phone rang. It was Calder.

I picked up. “Hey…” I realized I sounded a bit out of breath.

“I had a free moment. I felt bad for rushing you off the phone earlier. I wanted to wish you luck this afternoon.”

Guilt swirled in my stomach. “Thank you.”

“I also have good news.”

I slowed my pace. “What?”

“I’m coming home earlier than expected.”

“Oh! When?”

“Tomorrow night instead of Friday.”