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As the door swings open, I bark out a laugh.
My gaze lands on the muscular chest of one of my best friends.
“What the fuck, Harry?” I question him. “Put on a goddamn shirt.”
His hand runs the length of his chest and abs before it settles on his hip, just above the waistband of his black sweatpants. “Says the guy who is practically naked in Times Square.”
Harrison Keene, along with my other two closest friends, Graham Locke and Kavan Bane, are the only people outside those employed by Wells who know I’m the guy in that print ad.
I brush past him on my way inside his home.
It’s all old-world charm mixed with modern design.
Harry bought the place from his uncle years ago. For a time, it was my home too. Harry was going through a rough patch, and I wanted to lend a hand.
That had nothing to do with monetary aid.
I wanted to be around in case he needed a friend or someone to whip up dinner.
Harry, Kavan, and Graham are as close to me as Declan is.
Harry trails behind me as I make my way through the foyer, into the main hallway, and straight to the kitchen.
When I round the island in pursuit of a cold beer from the fridge, I finally glance back to catch him yanking a T-shirt over his head. It’s emblazoned with the logo of the boarding school we attended when we were teenagers. It makes sense given that Harry foot the bill for The Buchanan School’s new library, which opened two months ago.
His brown hair is mussed, and he’s covered in sweat from what must have been a hard workout in his home gym.
“How are you feeling?” I ask the question that always slips out even though it irks Harry whenever it leaves my lips.
“I’m good,” he says as he rakes a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it back into place. “What are you doing here?”
I bend down to look in the fridge. Just as I suspect, it’s fully stocked with organic fruits and vegetables and free-range chicken and beef.
“I’m here to cook you dinner.”
I glance to where he’s standing. He’s grinning from ear to ear. “I won’t turn that down, but why are you really here, Sean?”
I yank two bottles of imported beer from the fridge and place them on the island before sliding open the drawer that holds the bottle opener. “No reason other than I missed your pretty face.”
His blue eyes narrow as he considers my words. “If I get one of your home-cooked meals out of this, I suppose the reason doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t,” I agree.
“I’m going to hit the shower.” He glances at the now opened bottles of beer. “I’ll be back in twenty. I’m in the mood for steak if you’re curious.”
Expecting to hear that, I chuckle. “Steak it is, Harry.”
I didn’t plan on showing up on his doorstep, but it beats sitting in my apartment waiting for a glimpse of Calliope through the peephole when she gets home from her date.
As hard as I try, I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have her naked beneath me.
Chapter Fifteen
Callie
It tookme two blocks before I realized why my niece and nephew were giggling when I hugged them goodbye.
By then, I was on the platform of a subway stop in Queens.
