Hope flutters in the base of my belly. Is he about to tell me he wants to come into my apartment?
“What motive?” I ask quietly.
“I want to officially ask you out for our first date.” He tucks the book under his arm. “Dinner, maybe some dancing, or bowling if you’d prefer.”
I laugh. “Bowling?”
“Options are always a good thing.” He lifts his chin. “Are you free tomorrow night?”
This is really happening. My boss is asking me out.
I nod. “I’m free.”
“Do I need to dig my bowling shoes out of my storage locker, or will dinner at Nova suffice?”
Nova is one of the most popular restaurants in the city.
I glance down. “The shoes you’re wearing will do just fine.”
“Nova it is.” He tugs the book out from under his arm. “It seems to me that you’re pretty interested in this. Why don’t you give it a read?”
I take the offered book. “Thank you. I’ll return it as soon as I’m done.”
“No rush.” He smiles. “I don’t charge late fees.”
A soft noise coming from behind Mrs. Sweeney’s door sends our gazes in that direction.
“Let’s save our next kiss for after our first date,” Sean whispers. “I wouldn’t want Mrs. Sweeney to get jealous.”
A soft chuckle escapes me. “Do you two have something going on?”
He nods curtly. “I sometimes take her to the roof for a glass of wine and a cigar while we star gaze.”
“You smoke the cigar while she drinks the wine?”
“She indulges in both,” he says. “As do I.”
“You’re a charmer,” I accuse with a laugh. “You charm everyone you meet, don’t you?”
“Have I charmed you, Champ?”
I hold up my hand with my index finger and thumb no more than an inch apart. “Just a little bit.”
He scoops my hand in his before he kisses my palm. “I need to work harder then. Goodnight, Calliope.”
“Goodnight, Saint.”
My hand falls from his grasp, and with one brief last look at me, he walks to his door, unlocks it, and disappears inside his apartment.
An hour later, I finally settle into a big armchair in the corner of Grady’s guestroom to prepare myself for an hour-long reading session before I go to bed.
I’ve been soaking in the bathtub since I got home.
When I lived with my friends, we didn’t have a tub.
We had one narrow shower.
I didn’t enjoy my time in it. It was more of a get in and get out situation, but tonight I poured myself a glass of sparkling raspberry water, lit a candle, and used a few drops of the soothing lavender bubble bath Naomi bought me last month as a thank you gift for helping with her kids.
She did that in anticipation of me moving in here since she clearly remembered how I’d spend hours in the bathtub when we were growing up.
As I flip open the book’s cover to dive into the first page, my phone chimes.
Grumbling, I get up and walk toward where I plugged it in to charge on the nightstand.
Sitting down on the bed dressed only in my panties and a tank top, I smile when I see a notification flash on the screen of an incoming text message.
Unknown: Have you read any good books lately, Champ?
Before responding, I add the number to my contact list along with Sean’s name.
Callie: Do you mean have I read any good books since I last saw you?
His reply is instant.
Sean: Let’s go with that.
Laughing, I type out a response and hit send.
Callie: I was just about to start reading. I spent the last hour soaking in the tub.
A sudden loud bang causes me to jolt. My phone teeters in my hand. Before I can get up to investigate if something has fallen, another message pops onto my screen.
Sean: Don’t panic, Champ. Nothing broke. No one is trying to break in.
With shaking hands, I punch out a reply.
Callie: You heard that too? Are you sure it’s nothing?
I read his response the moment it hits my phone’s screen.
Sean: That thud was me passing out when you said you were in the tub. The only thing separating your naked body from my eyes is a wall.
I laugh so loud that I’m sure he can hear me.
Sean: Don’t stay up all night reading.
I reply quickly.
Callie: I won’t. I’ll see you in the morning.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sean
I take my time when I exit the elevator because Calliope is waiting for Jurgen in the lobby today. The pouring rain must have chased her back into the shelter of the building.
I can tell she tried to tough it out because from where I’m standing, a few strands of her dampened hair are clinging to her cheek, and more distractingly, her black blouse is wet.
It’s clear from this vantage point that she’s wearing a red bra underneath.
Suddenly, she turns slightly, and her eyes lock on mine.
Panic darts over her expression.