“Your hands are cold.” He rubs my hips, the heat of his hands felt through my compression leggings.

I’m reminded of the cocktail beside me and pick it up to rattle the ice. “The drink is cold. Hence, cold hands.” His eyes never leave mine when I tip it back.

Waiting until I swallow, he licks his lips and then asks, “I take it Jean-Luc is Marlow’s idea?”

“Yes, Counselor.” My trick doesn’t work. Just using the term usually gets me thrown over his shoulder and taken to bed.

His brows pull together instead. “And why, exactly, did you agree to this date?”

“Since we’re speaking in exacts, I never did.”

I don’t think he’s in the mood to play my word games. “We could cut to the chase and get to the good part if you stop making me guess.”

“We could . . .” I shrug, feeling the whiskey in my veins. “But what’s the fun in that?”

“Trust me,” he starts, using his bossy voice. Fortunately, there’s a playfulness to his eyes, or I’d be worried. “There’s more fun once I figure out why my girlfriend is cheating on me.”

Throwing my hands up, I jerk my head back. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. That escalated quickly.”

“Imagine how I felt when she dropped that tidbit on me at work today,” he says, exasperated.

“I can imagine it was pretty traumatizing. Why didn’t you just call me? This could have been settled hours ago.”

“I did but was sent straight to voicemail.”

I push him away and hop off the counter to retrieve my phone. “You did? That’s odd. What time? My phone died around?—”

“Five. Five thirty.”

“Oh,” I say, the wind knocked from my sails. I return to the kitchen. “That was the same time. I’m sorry.”

“If you’re not dating Jean-Luc, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m not dating Jean-Luc. I’ve not even met him.” Throwing my arms up, I say, “I didn’t even know his name before my boyfriend told me.”

But Iamfeeling sorry, sorry for bringing more problems into our little bubble of bliss. Little, if you define a large apartment with a rooftop deck as little.

What happened with Lowell will ruin everything Rad and I have been building together. I’m finally settled, and it feels like home.

Feeling unsteady is an understatement compared to when I left for work this morning. So much has changed, but I’m not sure my transfer to Poughkeepsie needs to be discussed before it’s a thing.

With the wedding next week, what I want most is for us to be just how we have been. Once I mention a transfer or moving to Poughkeepsie, I’m not sure we’ll be able to get back to where we are now with things left unsettled.

Information. Rad and I both work better and think clearer when we have the full story. I have time to get that this week before presenting the predicament so we can work together to find the solution.

Seeing the trust in Rad’s eyes has me lifting on my toes again and kissing him. The stronger feelings blooming inside have made me more sentimental lately. I’m just unsure when to share them.When is the right time to say I love you?

I spin in his arms, keeping him wrapped around me. With my phone still in my hand, I ask, “Would you like me to call Marlow and settle this other man issue?”

“Today was enough for both of us.”

His tone—exhausted with a clip to it—has me looking over my shoulder. Then I turn back altogether. “Everything okay?”

“It’s quite a story. Want to order dinner first?”

Two hours later, I’ve heard everything, and we even had time to celebrate what the partners said. I don’t like the pretend stuff with Marlow and hearing how it extends to the wedding, but at least he’s not hiding any details.

And, truth be told, I feel like an equal. The more time I spend with Rad, the more it’s clear how wrong Steve was for me.Any boyfriend before Rad really.And I love this part of each day. Sitting down and chatting about our days. I never felt lonely living alone, but this is so much better. “So what does that mean for us telling friends and family?”