Page 15 of Wrong Number

“You work too much,” he muttered. I sat on the edge of my bed, the towel still wrapped around me.

“Maybe, but I have the weekend off,” I reminded him, hoping he’d maybe get the hint and ask about meeting. When he didn’t, it felt like a kick to the gut.

And it was the reality check I needed.

“Yeah, I still don’t like it. When do you get to rest, kitten?” Even though I could hear the concern in his voice, I knew what I had to do. I didn’t want to, but I needed to put some distance between us.

“Here and there.” I sighed as I stood up.

This whole thing was crazy.

Ridiculous.

It was all getting too be too much and yet not enough. I wanted things from a man I had never actually met. A man I could walk right past on the street and not recognize. “Listen, I have to work both jobs tomorrow?—"

“I thought you were off this weekend?” Even though my poor stupid heart wished it meant he wanted to meet, I couldn’t let myself believe it.

“I do, but my cousin called and asked if I could do a shift tomorrow at the police precinct.”

“Precinct?” he repeated as I walked to my bathroom. The closer I got to it, the better my chances were to find the guts to hang up and shower instead of lying in bed and talking to him all night long.

“Yeah, Twenty- two. The one downtown. I’ve been there once, before you texted me, actually.”

“Really.”

“Yeah. It’s not a bad place to clean. It’s kinda big, but at night it’s a little…”

“What?”

“Creepy?” I shook my head. “No, that’s not the right word.” My nose squished up. “It’s …” It’s where that hot cop was. “It’s just empty during the late night. Last time I was there…” I saw the most beautiful man I’d ever met?

No, I couldn’t say that to Nix.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s not important. Anyhow, I have to clean it tomorrow, and it’s more than likely I’ll be doing it on my own.”

“Your cousin needs to hire more employees.”

“She’s trying. But it’s okay. I get a nice little stipend and extra hourly.”

“Right,” he muttered.

“Anyhow, I should go,” I quickly said, trying to rip the bad news off like a Band-Aid.

“Go?” he repeated. My mouth was suddenly dry.

“Yeah,” I answered softly. “I really need a shower and?—"

“Want me to call you after?”

“Umm…” I licked my lips.

I wanted him to call me.

I loved talking to him.

The sound of his voice soothed me and made me feel so many beautiful things, things I wasn’t used to. But I knew if I talked to him tonight, it was just going to be harder for me this weekend when I tried to ignore his calls. I needed some space from my velvet-voiced stranger. The whole thing was messing with my head, though if I thought it had a chance of going somewhere, I’d see it through.

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