"Hey," he says.

"Hey," I echo.

I want to hang up, too nervous to go through with this. It's too late since he's already answered.

"I can't believe you called me," Joel tells me. "Is this about the case?"

"No," I admit.

I realize my mistake too late.

His smirk bleeds into his voice. "Oh, really? This is even better than a lead. I get to talk to you for the hell of it."

"Maybe not for the hell of it," I say. "Do you... do you wanna come over?"

He stops.

I feel my skin heat, wanting to take back the words as soon as I've said them. I sound crazy. He definitely won't agree to it, and he's probably wondering why I would ever say that to him.

"Are you flirting with me, Vi?" he asks.

I choke on my breath, and I'm positive he hears me coughing.

He laughs. "Don't die on me. I'd like an answer."

"N-No," I stammer. "I'm not. I just want to discuss the investigation. Laying it out might help."

"I thought this wasn't about the Grants," he points out.

"It is," I say, embarrassed. "All we're doing is talking about the case."

"Just the case?" he teases.

"Just the case," I say, my throat tight.

"I'll be over in a bit."

I'm left wondering if I made a mistake.

Thankfully, I didn't change into sweats earlier, so I'm still dressed and presentable when I meet him outside on the curb.

He's got sunglasses on, and it's paralyzingly sexy. I feel ridiculous for even thinking that. He's Joel, and I'm not supposed to be thinking about the way his jacket curves to his biceps or the way his cologne is wafting under my nose.

"You look pretty," he says.

I tug at my sweater self-consciously. "You saw me like this earlier."

"Yeah, but I didn't say it then," he replies.

"You can't do that."

"Do what?"

"Compliment me," I say.

"And why is that?" he questions.

"Because this is about work," I tell him, despite the fact I'm not sure that's true.

"Maybe for now," he agrees. "But it won't always be. One day, I'll tell you you're pretty, and you won't be able to put up a fight."

Pretty. He thinks I'm pretty.

A hidden part of me is a bit giddy at the prospect.

With that, he gestures to the door leading into my building. "Shall we?"

The scene that follows is sort of like my dream: us climbing the stairs in good spirits. My hands are shaking as I slide my key in the lock, considering the parallels between a nightmare and this.

The creaky door swings open and Joel and I step inside, shedding our respective jackets and shoes.

Betsy is coming out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel when she catches sight of the two of us, her cheeks flaming. "Oh, shit! Vi, you didn't tell me the hot detective was coming over."

"I love how your first concern is who I brought home and not the fact you're basically naked," I mutter.

"Come on." Betsy rolls her eyes. "He's got a face like that. Of course, he's seen plenty of women naked. I'm Betsy, by the way."

"Joel," he says, then turns to me and arches an eyebrow. "Hot detective?"

My mouth drops open. "I never—"

He nudges me. "So you think I'm hot, Vi?"

"That's not what I said!" I exclaim defensively.

She shrugs a shoulder. "She said you were decent, but I knew she would never admit that she finds you attractive."

"You know, Vi," says Joel. "I'm starting to doubt this is a professional thing."

"It is," I squeak.

He ducks his chin, those full lips brushing the outside of my ear. My knees nearly knock together at the feel of his warm breath and the proximity between us shrinking. I'm utterly responsive to him, caught off guard by the oddly sensual nature of his whisper.

"You're not a very good liar, sweetheart," he murmurs.

Warmth spreads through me, and my spine goes rigid as I struggle to keep the urge to grab him by the collar and kiss him senseless at bay. I can't do that, but I sure as hell want to when it would be all too easy.

Betsy hikes her thumb vaguely in the direction of her bedroom. "I'm going to put some clothes on. Be careful there, Detective, she has a wild side."

As soon as she closes the door behind her, I glare at him. "Don't get any ideas, I'm about as boring as they come."

He hangs his coat up on the rack we have beside the door and says, "You're a lot of things, Vi, but boring sure isn't one of them."

"Can I get you anything?" I say.

"Water, please."

I retrieve a glass and get some straight from the tap. I'm on my second cup of coffee tonight and end up reheating it while he nurses his drink.

The unnerving dripping in the sink permeates my thoughts. The sound has never ceased to bother me, but it feels even louder now, like a ruthless bully. Maintenance is supposed to come to fix it in a few weeks.

I start yanking at the handle of the faucet to turn the water off, but I doubt the dripping will cease anytime soon. Finally, Joel exhales deeply and reaches over to stop me.

"Just leave it alone, Vi," he says softly.

In the bright light of my kitchen, I can get a better look at him. It's intense. Whenever we're near each other, it feels magnetic. I'm drawn to him. He's different than most people. A lot different, at that. I don't know how to shake it.

He's here. He came when I called.

Neither of us is making any attempt to direct our focus to the murder, or Kevin Grant. Right now, all that matters is us. We're off duty, and there's no point pretending this was ever about H2 to begin with.

I wanted to see him. I felt like I needed to.

Slowly, I pull my hands away from his and wipe them on my jeans, as if that'll get rid of the nervous sweat clamming up my palms.

"What color are your eyes?" he asks suddenly.

"I'm sorry?"

"They look blue but sometimes, they also seem green and I can't help but wonder what it says on your driver's license. So what they?"

"I went with blue," I admit after some time, relieved the water stops dripping. "Why are you asking anyway?"

"Curiosity," he answers. "I like those eyes quite a bit."

He steps forward, framing my face. His touch is gentle, and his fingertips are remarkably soft. I could let him hold me forever, just like this.

I'm not thinking about my vision or the future.

I'm thinking that Joel Reed is everything right now.

"What are we doing?" I ask him, his skin searing into mine.

"Nothing," he says. "Nothing yet."

I can't let myself stay in the trance he's put me in. It's time to stop pretending I can afford to do anything with Joel Reed. If I let him touch me, I might let him kiss me. If I let him kiss me, I might let him do it again. If I let us become anything more, I might just fall in love with him, and everything I fear will come true.

I step away. "So, about Valerie—"

He frowns. "What about her?"

My mind goes blank. "Well... I... Um..."

The truth is, I have nothing to say about her. He knows it. He knows I'm looking for a way out, a way to pass through the awkwardness.

"Come to dinner with me tonight," he interrupts.

I gape at him.

"It doesn't have to be a date," he says. "Not unless you want it to be."

Hesitation hits me. I don't know how to respond. He's been asking and asking, and I've never given him a straight answer. The truth is, there really isn't one. I want it to be a date, I really do, but I can't.

I can't.

"Not a date," I finally say, and it kills me.

"Then it's not a date," he replies.

It's clear I won't be able to keep him completely distant, but I can set down one boundary.

"We're only friends," I remind him. "We can only be friends. That's how it has to be, okay?"

"Sure," he says, but he isn't buying it.

"What does that mean?"

The corner of his mouth lifts. "It means I don't believe that'll last very long."