Page 81 of The Probability of Us

“What happened?” he asks again.

“He’s trying to get sober,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips. “I’m trying to keep my expectations low, but it’s the first attempt he’s made since she died. He’s trying; he’sfinallytrying.”

He lets out a breath of relief and kisses the top of my head. “I’m so glad to hear that. I want your life to be full of nothing but sunshine.”

“You’re still my sun.” I pull back and smile at him.

“And you’re still my summer.” He lifts his hand to my cheek, and I lean into the touch.

“Summer is nothing without her sun,” I say, leaning closer to him.

Just before our lips touch, he says, “It’smewho’s nothing withoutyou, Analise,” then presses his lips against mine. And I feel it this time—in the way he kisses me, in the way he pulls me close, in the way he looks at me—the unwavering promise of forever.

Thirty-Two

SEPTEMBER CURRENT DAY (MONDAY)

Ilook out of the wall of windows behind my desk and gulp. I grip the arms of my chair tight to keep them from shaking but my breathing picks up. Instead of the incredible view, I see my body falling through the glass and plummeting towards the ground. Why did we have to be on such a high floor in this building?

My eyes close and I turn my chair around. Slowly, I open them and try to convince my body that this office is actually on the ground floor. But the height is quickly forgotten when the man leaning against the doorframe comes into focus.

I take in all six feet of him. His suit jacket is off and the muscles in his arms ripple against the thin button up shirt. His honey-colored hair is perfectly in place—I want to run my hands through it and mess it up. His freckles aren’t as prominent because of how much sun his face has gotten lately, but up close they’re still there, in all their perfect chaos. His butterscotch eyes shine bright, with more love than I thought was possible—it steals the breath from my lungs.

“Come here often?” he says, his lips pulling up into a smirk.

I smile, fighting a laugh and say, with a shrug, “I’m new to town and this place came highly recommended so I thought I’d check it out.”

“And what do you think so far?” He steps into my office, and my heart pounds in time with each step he takes.

“It’s a little too far off the ground for my tastes, but the people are great so far.” I smile when he chuckles; the sound still coats me like liquid sunshine—warm and bright. “But ask me again in a few weeks, my mind might change by then.”

“About the height, or the people?” He’s only a few steps away now, and I stand, ignoring the question.

“What about you, is this a favorite spot of yours?”

“It is now,” he says, stopping right in front of me and holding out his hand. “Warren Mitchell.”

“Analise Summers.” I smile as I take his hand. “Looks like I’ll be your new neighbor.”

He tugs me closer and wraps an arm around my waist. In a voice that sends a shiver down my back, he says, “And what if I want to be more than just your neighbor?”

“Oh no.” I push against his chest and take a step away. “We said we could be professional at work. It’s day one and you’re already suggesting office sex.”

His eyes light up and his smile turns wicked. “Oh, Analise.” My eyes close at the way he says my name. “Ididn’t say anything about office sex. Once again it’syouwho can’t stop thinking about it.”

My eyes fly open.Damn him.How does he always do this to me?

“I hate you,” I grumble.

“You love me.” He grins and the corners of my frown twitch up.

“I love youandI hate you.”

“That I can deal with,” he says, moving closer and leaning in until his lips are at my ear. “Hate sex is hot.”

“Keep this up and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” It comes out shaky and I feel his smile grow.

“You don’t want to do that.” His voice is pure sin. We’re playing with fire here, but as much as I love it, I won’t let us mess up on the first day. No matter how tempting he is.

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