I always thought I knew what I wanted.

But this petite woman proved me so fucking wrong in so, so many delicious ways. Because I didn't expect to be pulled into this weird spell by someone I barely know, yet feel like I've known my entire life.

What I said to her is true. She sees me, inside and outside. And in her own way she challenges me, surprises me, makes me question the life I lived before I met her.

It's insane how much I've been thinking about her in the few days since she ran into me, even more so since we spent the night together on that rooftop. The things she said, the way she said them, still confuses and simultaneously excites the hell out of me.

Maybe that's why I'm in such a spectacularly foul mood when I get out of my agent's office, the realization that I won't have as much time as I hoped dawning on me.

Good morning, Lucky. How did you sleep? I shoot her a text as I get into my car, resting my head against the seat while I take a deep breath, although it only takes a minute for Mila's response to light up my screen.

Morning! I slept like a baby, thanks for asking. Hope your meeting goes well.

I sigh as I read her message, knowing I won't be able to keep my promise of seeing her while I'm here. I have to admit, it kind of didn't...

Oh?

How the hell do I explain this to her? I don't want this to end before it even goddamn started. My agent thought it'd be a good idea to send me to Las Vegas tonight. I'll have to stay there, and then in Chicago until Tuesday next week.

She takes a second to answer, and I can't help but frown when I read the reply. Oh, I see.

This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I can imagine she's already second-guessing us.

But then I get an idea. What are you doing on Wednesday next week?

Writing, hopefully...

Do you think you can fit lunch with me in there? I feel like a shy teenager, staring at my phone, waiting for her reply and hoping to God that she agrees to this date.

Depends. Are there peanut butter cups?

A laugh escapes my throat, the sound resonating in the confined space of my car as I shake my head and type my next message. I'll get you a fucking year's worth if that means you'll have lunch with me.

I really think you underestimate how much of those I eat in a year.

Send me the numbers, and I'll make it happen.

Again, her response takes a few minutes, but I can't help the ridiculous grin on my face when her message pops up.

Deal.

***

The next few days are spent running and flying from A to B to C and then back to A every goddamn day, leaving me exhausted every night when I get to the hotel at around midnight. The only thing that really keeps me going these days is Mila. Because even though I can't wait to see her, her texts are a fresh breath of air, and they help me through every single day.

Just got home. Hope you had a great rest of the day, Lucky.

Unsurprisingly, she replies within minutes. I noticed she's a night owl, staying up late rather than waking up early. It was quite the typical Monday, I guess.

Sounds like you had a brilliant day.

If typing twenty pages and then throwing them in the trash means brilliant, then yes. My day was spectacular.

I can only imagine her singsong voice as she says the last words, every syllable laced with irony.

What about you? she asks, and lie there in bed, thinking of a reply that's neither too pushy, nor a straight-up lie.

I missed you today. It's the truth—I am absolutely drained and exhausted, and all I wanted to do all day was look at her gorgeous face to pull me back up again.

When she doesn't reply for a couple of minutes, I'm almost afraid I scared her away by being too forward again. With Mila, there's a fine line between being challenging and being pushy. One sends her away; the other lets me get to know her on a deeper level.

You did? Her response comes in as I brush my teeth, and I smile while typing a quick reply.

Yes, Lucky. I did.

Can I ask you something?

Always. I send the response as I get into bed.

Please don't take this the wrong way... But why do you show me so much attention?

And once again I'm baffled by her change of attitude. Sometimes it gives me whiplash how quickly she changes from insecure and shy to confident and upfront. I don't feel like I'm showing you enough attention, really, I answer truthfully.

What do you mean?

What I mean is...I wanted to see you all day. I wanted to look at your beautiful eyes, because honestly, the memory of them kept me sane these past few days. Just telling her this makes me sigh—I just want to see her.

And what would you have done if I'd been there with you?

Her text surprises me...is she asking what I think she's asking? You want to know what I'd do if you were here with me?

Yes.

Okay. She is.

Well, game on... I'd start by kissing you as soon as you step foot inside this room. Because that's all I ever want to do when I look at you.

I think I'd like that.

I raise an eyebrow. You think?

You're a tease...but no. I know I'd love that.

Gods, I'm grinning like a fucking idiot right now. I know. You love the teasing, though. But do you know what I'd do after that?

What would you do? I can almost see the blush on her face, can hear her breathless voice when she asks that...

I'd probably lift you up and carry you to the gigantic couch in this room.

Because it's more comfortable?

Her answer makes me laugh, and I shake my head as I keep on typing, my phone illuminating the dark bedroom. No, because I'd want you to do that thing you do.

That thing I do?

Just thinking about that specific thing does something to me. It's the hottest goddamn feeling ever. That thing you do when we kiss, where you lose yourself in it and end up jumping me, straddling me, whatever's suitable at the moment. It drives me crazy.

I don't do that.

Oh, but you do, Lucky. And it's sexy as hell.

Her reply lights up my phone after a couple of minutes, and I'm once again startled by her raw honesty. I don't know what to say to that. 'Sexy as hell' is not how I'd describe myself.

And it makes me wonder, again—why she is that way, why she talks herself down like that. She surely doesn't deserve it. You should. Because you are.

Thank you. You're sexy as hell too, by the way.

It's a refreshing thing, being complimented this much by someone like Mila. It feels like it means something with her. I'm glad you think so.

You must hear that all the time...

Not from anyone who matters. I might sound pretentious, or like I'm feigning honesty, but I'm not. It's the truth, short and simple.

You're such a charmer...

Like I said...only for you, Lucky. Only for you.