“Huh. Is that a story that involves me? Us?”
She groans. “Fine. I might have gotten it to remember your eyes. Emerald green—with those little yellow fireworks.”
Satisfaction fills my chest.
“Don’t get excited,” she says. “I’m over it. You’ve seen me. Anything else?”
Oh yes, you fascinating creature.
I’m intrigued by you, but I need to know why there are so many coincidences between us.
“Don’t you think it’s odd, us being at Decadence, living in the same building, then seeing you at Café Lazzo?”
She leans against the wall in the hallway, her aquamarine eyes hardening. “Oh, I get it now. You think I knew who you were at Decadence. That I somehow set you up. But how on earth would I have orchestrated our meeting at Café Lazzo?”
I lift my shoulders. “It’s happened before. Women will go through a lot of trouble to run into me. You could have followed me and myfriends to the club. Maybe you recognized me there, sought me out, bumped into me—”
“Wow. Stop right there. First, I don’t follow men; they follow me. That guy that left a few minutes ago? He’s been stalking my balcony, not to mention giving me heart eyes at work when his new girl isn’t looking. Second, you had half a mask on your face, your hair was long, and you had a beard. I thought you were a carpenter! Even better, maybe a fireman. Third, I do recall calling you a pervert—”
“Not a perv.”
“Fourth, you are so not my type. Like at all. I like artistic men.” She smiles tightly. “The way I see it, we never have to see each other again. Just stay out of the lobby and the main elevators. Voilà, your little stalking problem is solved.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Do that,” she says with a huff.
I take a step closer, my voice lowering. “Francesca ...”
“Stop saying my name like that,” she grouses.
“But it’s so beautiful. Look, there’s a bar I like a couple of blocks away. It’s called the Baller, and you need a membership to get in. Lots of privacy. Want to join me? We can discuss how to avoid each other, perhaps?”
“Do you always run this hot and cold? Besides, there’s another NFL player on my list to stalk. Tell Jasper I’m coming for him. He’s more fun anyway.”
A spike of possessiveness rises. “No Jasper for you.”
“Scared for him?”
“I just can’t see you with a guy who calls his dick Cupid.” I press my palm against the wall as I dip down to her. “Tomorrow, then?”
“No.”
“The next? Just one drink. We can go to my penthouse. We can sit in front of the fireplace ... and talk.” I trace a finger around the neckline of her shirt.
Her cheeks flush a pretty pink. “Not a good idea.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
I chuckle. “You need to work on your stalking, sweetheart.”
“Was that some kind of test?”
I shrug, not answering. No, not really. It’s clear she isn’t like Lollipop, or she’d be all over me, but there’s still a vulnerable part of me that wonders at the odds of us running into each other again.
Her eyes flash. “Maybe it was just fate that we live at the same place.”