“23?”

He smirks, pushing the key into the lock. “I asked for it special.”

It’s been his jersey number for years. He used to say it was his lucky number because everything good in his life happened on the 23rd.

He was born on the 23rd.

His parents were married on the 23rd.

Rose met Jack on the 23rd.

He was 23 when he was drafted to the MLB.

He texted me on the 23rd.

23 is his version of fate.

“Take your shoes off, please.”

He disappears down the hall as I walk into the entryway, surprised Shep is one of thoseno shoes in the housekind of people, and toe off my slip-ons.

His apartment is just as I pictured it. Dark gray hardwood floors cover the majority of the space, nicely contrasted with light gray paint on the walls. The furniture is all black, sleek, and modern.

It’s clean, welcoming.

There’s a scratching along the floors, a skittering that can only belong to one thing.

“Steve!” Shep shouts just as the puppy comes barreling around the corner, sliding right on top of my feet.

“You have a pug!” I stare down at the smiling dog, laughing as his tongue flops out of his mouth. “I’ve always wanted a pug!”

Shep already knows this.

Am I the reason he got one?

“Bucky, meet Steve Rogers Clark.”

My eyes snap to Shep. “You named your dog Steve?”

He lifts a shoulder. “What? A guy can’t name his dog after America’s first Avenger?”

“Uh huh,” I say, unconvinced that’s why he did it. “Can I hold him?”

“Best I take him out to the balcony real quick so he can pee. I have one of those fake grass pads out there to train him.” Shep scoops the puppy up. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

He carries the pup outside, leaving me standing there. I notice then he’s taken my bag somewhere, so I go in search, beyond ready to head to bed.

There are only three doors off the hallway, so I try the first one—bathroom.

I try the second—guest room, but no bag in sight.

Which means…

No. No, he did not.

I push open the door, and yes, just as I expected, Shep has put my bag on his bed—hisverybig bed, I might add. Other than the small tables on either side and the all-leather headboard, it’s the only thing in the room.

Like hell I’m staying in here with him.