Maggie shouts over my computer screen, her attention on her television screen as mine is on my own. "You don't want her! She's not right for you."

I laugh at her outburst as I pull my knees up to my chest, watching as he makes another choice that I know will anger her. And just on time, she yells at the television once again. It's tradition now to watch terrible reality television when Maggie's alone while Zane's working the night shift on the ambulance.

"Em!" she says loudly, earning my attention from the heavily edited manuscript sheets. "Are you even paying attention?"

"Yes," I say with a laugh. "I can multitask."

She hums unconvinced. "You know, I've never seen you as excited about a book as you are this one," she says. "When am I finally going to get to read it?"

"Soon," I tell her. "I have a few copies made that are circulating. Once I get my hands back on one I'll give it to you. You're going to love it, Mags."

"I'm sure I will," she says.

I flash her a smile as I shift in my spot. "I really don't know what it is," I tell her, tucking a piece of my loosely waved hair behind my ear. "I've never felt so connected to a story before. I mean, just listen to this, Mags.

"It's fair to say I would walk a million miles to be with him. I miss the way he smell. The way his arms fit around me, and every day I wish we could go back. Take back the words of hurt and close the wounds they've caused. He slipped through my fingers and as my life goes on without him, everything slowly changes. My heart no longer skips when our friends speak his name. He is no longer the thing distracting my mind. My heart doesn't ache for you anymore.

"And it would be true if I weren't lying to myself."

I pause to look at Maggie wanting to see the same awe in my heart at the words on her face, but instead I find something else. Something I can't quite make out.

"What?" I ask. "What's that face for?"

Maggie quickly shakes the look off her face, offering me a small smile. "It's good."

I narrow my eyes, unconvinced.

"Who's it–" she begins to say when a knock on my door interrupts her, cutting her short. "Are you expecting someone?" she asks, changing her question.

"I don't think so," I tell her and set the manuscript pages aside, getting to my feet as I move my computer from the couch cushions to the coffee table. I step to the side as I reach for the door, pressing my fingers into the solid wood as I lift to my toes and peer through the peephole. My heart racing at the sight of Luke. "Luke," I say as I pull the door open, leaning into it as I take him in.

It's been a few days since he kissed me on the apartment steps, but his words have hung around for much longer. I am left with the weight of them, feeling them in my heart. I want love and I deserve to be loved the way I want. It doesn't have to be me on my own forever.

"4A, don't you look cute in your jammies."

My lips lift as I squeeze the metal knob. "Cute."

"I think so," he says.

"What can I do for you?" I ask as my heart settles.

Luke rubs his hand over the back of his neck, showing more of himself than I've ever seen. He's nervous. "I have a gig coming up on Saturday and I wanted to stop by to invite you."

"To your gig?"

He nods. "To my gig."

My lips part, expecting myself to decline his offer when Maggie cuts in. "Is this invitation just for one or is it an open invitation?"

Luke leans forward and spots the source of her voice, his lips curl up as he lifts his hand in greeting. "You're welcome to come, Maggie," he says. "Bring your husband, too."

Part of me wants to argue and say we can't, but then he looks at me with a sincere look in his eyes. This is a new Luke I don't know, and I quickly came to terms with the knowledge that I haven't let myself see this side of him before. I turned a blind eye to his kindness, because kindness means more than annoyance and I can't not know he's capable of it now. It'll linger under my skin from here on out.

"Excellent," Maggie calls from the screen. "We'll be there."

"Will you?" Luke asks, his attention back on me.

The corner of my lips curl up as I lean my head against the wooden door, tilting it to look at him. "Maybe," I tell him and feel the chill of something more on my skin.

"I can work with maybe."

I bite down on my bottom lip as Luke takes a step back toward his apartment, pulling his keys out of his jean pockets. An excitement I'm not used to fills my chest as I shut my apartment door, leaning back into it with a small sigh. Even without touching him, I can feel him on my skin as I press my head back into the door. I shouldn't be smiling, but I am. I can't seem to get rid of the look on my face.

"Oh, boy," Maggie says, breaking the silence in my apartment. "You're so screwed."

And I know it's true.