"I get boldly unwise," I admit, and lay down on the floor to twist one way and then the other and hear my back pop into better alignment.

"Meaning you'll climb up and do your Doja Cat moves on the coffee table?" Rune asks, looking both sly and hopeful. Oh God, he's not flirting with me, is he?

"Meaning, Mr. Unavailable Hot Mess," I say pointedly, my eyes landing on his for only a second before focusing on unplugging my computer and wrapping up the cord, "If I drink much more, I'd climb onto your lap, and do my Doja Cat moves on you."

I'm expecting him to laugh, but he doesn't.

When I glance at him this time, his energy has morphed again. He's leaning back on the couch. One hand is holding his glass of wine between the v of his long legs, the other's draped across the back. The gaze he's giving me is so sultry I almost flinch with the intensity of it.

Asher Dillion is in the room. I glance down at myself. I'm surprised my clothes haven't melted off.

"Isn't it my turn to dare you?" Rune asks in a voice like rich, dark honey.

"What have you got in mind?" I ask, trying to sound cool, even though I'm pretty sure steam is starting to rise off me.

"I've never really been unavailable for you, Seashell," he says as if I should know this. If I snapped a pic of him right now, we'd double his Instagram following overnight. But WTF? What does he mean? He's contradicting himself.

"Liar," I narrow my eyes at him in disbelief, "that's exactly what you told me at the fundraiser."

"Yes, well, you were still in love with Jack," he says as if this makes perfect sense, swirling his wine and taking another drink.

I narrow my eyes at him more. What is he playing at? It's all I can do to keep my body from leaping on him. What's being offered is probably just for tonight or whenever he's in town. It would be a delicious crumb, but still a crumb.

And could I even be fully present the way I've been fantasizing about knowing that? No. I don't think I could. What would Vivienne say, I wonder frantically? How can I channel some of her grace?

Be honest, Theo says so quietly I can barely hear him. But he's right.

"As gratified as my ego is to learn all this," I tell Rune finally, reluctantly turning my eyes from his hypnotic gaze and slowly and carefully putting my laptop back into its case, "It wouldn't be able to take being a pit stop on your way to Julia in Victoria or Daphne in Seattle."

I stand and pick up my computer resolutely. I'll grab my duffle bag by the door and take it upstairs to sleep in the room across from Lorelei.

But Rune, the cat, is now standing right in front of me.

"I sent Julia home," he tells me, gently but firmly taking my computer and cord and putting them back on the coffee table behind me, "I'm officially leaving the production company. I'm happy to tell you all about it, but later."

"What?" I ask dumbly, sure I haven't heard him correctly, as he leads me to the couch.

"And Daphne, you goose, is my retired children's theatre teacher," he says, not releasing my hand as he slips feline-like back into his sexy slouch, "so I think you owe me some crazy sexy hip moves. That would absolutely help me forget the rest of this dreadful day."

"Daphne's your children's theater teacher?" I say, still not quite sure I'm hearing him correctly, resisting the tug of his hand.

"From Pasadena, when I was a kid, I thought you'd remember her," he's taking hold of my other hand now, lacing his fingers with mine.

"Wait, didn't you call her Ms. Traviani back then?"

"Oh, maybe I did," he smiles impishly up at me, Chesire cat-like, "Come on, Seashell, fair's fair. I danced with you."

"Fine," I sigh, pretending to be annoyed to buy myself a little time to get my wits about me. I'm still not at all clear about what's on offer here, but I can't resist, "I hope my Doja Cat moves won't disappoint," I say, bracing my arms on the back of the couch on either side of his head as I do my best to straddle him with some semblance of grace.

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"An impossibility," his eyes are half-mast, his smile a little too satisfied as he runs one elegant hand up my spine to cradle the back of my head, the other down to press my pelvis more firmly against his.

I decide the best way to wipe that somewhat arrogant smile off his face is to kiss it. I press my lips to his and gently swivel my hips against the firm ridge in his pants. Rune gives a soft gasp of a laugh as he slides his fingers into my hair, tilting my head back so he can place a series of kisses along the underside of my jaw.

"God, I've waited a long time to do this," he whispers against my ear and licks my earlobe before gently tugging on it with his teeth.

I lean back a little and run my fingertips over the surprisingly soft red-gold scruff on his jaw, then outline his beautiful full lips while I stare into his eyes. They're as dark as a forest. Our kisses on the beach at the midsummer fundraiser were kids' stuff compared to what we're doing now. These are hungry and passionate, and it's all I can do not to start pulling our clothes off right here. Instead, I work my hips more. And soon he's cradling my rear end in his hands and bucking his hips up to meet mine. I press my full body against his, and run my fingers through the silk of his hair, tugging on it gently.

"Shells," Rune gasps a laugh again, tilting us sideways and twisting so I land on my back with him over me, "let's save some of this for the dare."

"What?" I exclaim at him in shock, "Wasn't this the dare?"

"No, this was the warm-up," he says as he stands, as if this is a no-brainer, and pulls me to my feet. "Let's go take a shower and resume this in bed."

"Wait, what exactly is this dare?" I ask, tugging on his hand to slow him down as he walks towards the coat rack by the front door.

"You haven't guessed?" He asks with a glitteringly mischievous look in his as he picks up my duffle bag in his free hand. I shake my head. "It's to tackle one of the items from your bucket list," he says as he continues toward the master bedroom.

Oh no, "I take it you don't mean to help me buy sex toys on the internet."

"I'm happy to throw that in as a bonus if you like, but I'm interested in the making orgasms happen part."

"I didn't bring condoms, and I haven't been tested, you know, since Jack…" I bather as we enter the impressive master bedroom with views of the dark, stormy lake.

"Fortunately, my hope springs eternal," he winks at me, setting my bag down on the foot of the bed, "you're not the only scout here."

"You can take the first shower," I say, trying to let go of his hand so I can sit down on the bed and try to get my wits about. I want this so badly, but I am so bowled over right now. Is he going to insist we keep the lights on? Of course, he is.

"You're not getting shy on me now, are you?" Rune asks, gently squeezing my hand, which is getting hot and sweaty.

"No," I insist outwardly, yes, I agree inwardly, and stammer, "I know it sounds sexy and romantic, but one person is always left out in the cold and…"

"You didn't check out this shower?" he asks, eyes in his curious mode, leading me toward the bathroom.

"It's not top-of-mind importance for a twelve-year-old," I tell him as we enter a huge and well-appointed master bath. It's all white porcelain and shiny modern silver fixtures, set off by an elegant dark-gray slate floor, wood walls, and a large jacuzzi tub. It looks like something from Pinterest dream bathroom board, but I don't see a shower.

"I'm pretty sure we'll both fit," Rune says. It turns out that the tub isn't against the back wall. A massive multi-head shower is hidden behind it, complete with its own view.

"Wow," is all I can manage.

"I'm not even going to feel guilty about the water usage right now," Rune says, pulling off his t-shirt in that smooth one-hand-over-the-head way men can do before opening the shower's clear glass door and stepping in to peruse the controls.

"Can you figure it out?" I ask, feeling a little giddy from taking in light, warm, pale gold, broad-shouldered, narrow torso upper half. If this is skinny, Rune, I'm glad. I'm not sure I could handle his pumping iron version just yet.

"Absolutely," he tells me, turning a few nobs. Water starts coming out of the heads in earnest, followed quickly by steam. "Need help?" Rune asks as he slips out of his pants, noticing I'm still fully dressed. Of course, he wears a cool shape of boxer briefs in an elegantly understated navy. Of course.

"No," I swallow and start fumbling with my leggings, remembering that my bra and underwear don't match. I have a feeling Rune is a connoisseur of lingerie. If this thing happening right now goes anywhere, I will have to invest in new underwear, I think as I pull my t-shirt off awkwardly. I'm happy he's paying attention to the water temp and pressure again.

"See if this is right for you," he says, stepping back out of the shower.

Steam is now filling up the bathroom. The shower is so oversized I can step inside and reach over to put my hand under the closest head without getting more than my hand wet.

"Perfect," I tell him, deciding to be super brave, and slip off my bra and panties with what I hope is bravado. I toss them at him as I step under the water. He laughs, and in a nanosecond, he's inside, closing the door.

The water feels so delicious. It's coming at us from overhead and slightly sideways. We both find a spot and just stand there getting drenched in heat for at least two minutes. Getting self-conscious again, I check out the soap and shampoo offerings in an alcove at shoulder level in the slate wall of the shower.

"Camomile or the local lavender?" I turn around and ask Rune, who's still in immersion mode.

"You pick," he briefly opens one eye at me and then goes back to communing with the water.

"You really don't care?" I ask, handing him a bar of lavender soap to see if he'll object.

"Seashell," he says, as he lathers up the bar and reaches for me, "we're going to smell like each other soon, it doesn't matter."