Page 47 of After Midnight

My stomach twirls with butterflies, and I look at the clock. Five and a half hours before I need to leave to pick him up. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like nearly enough time.

I finish my coffee, then launch into cleaning mode, not even bothering to change out of my pajamas. I scrub every surface in the kitchen, vacuum, clean the bathroom until I could eat off the floor, and then step into my bedroom.

My bed is unmade, and I have half a hamper of laundry to do. My curtains are still closed, and I cross the carpeted floor and yank them open so I can see what I need to do in the light of day.

With determination, I crank up my playlist, then dive into cleaning my bedroom. And I’m just about to put my sheets into the washing machine when my phone rings. I scurry into the living room and snatch it off the couch.

It’s a FaceTime from Riley.

I swipe my thumb across the screen, and she appears, staring back at me while eating what looks like a cup of blueberry yogurt.

“Hey,” I say, starting back toward my washing machine.

Riley tips her head. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning my condo.” I prop the phone on the shelf, then shove my sheets into the washing machine and start a cycle. “Why?”

“I don’t have to work tonight. Do you wanna go to the gym and then hang out? Maybe get takeout and watch that new serial killer doc? It looks super creepy.”

I try not to let any emotion cross my face as I say, “Sorry, Ri, I can’t. I’ve got plans tonight.”

Immediately, her blue eyes narrow. “Are you working?”

I shake my head.

“Are you hanging out with someone?”

I shrug. “Kinda.”

Riley gasps. “Are you going on a date?”

Fuck.

With a sigh, I walk into my living room and collapse onto the couch. “Yes. No.” I scrub a hand down my face. “I don’t know if it’s a date. Maybe. It’s not a big deal.”

Riley stares at me through narrowed eyes, and I can see that big brain of hers working.

“You never hang out with anyone, you rarely go on dates, and it looks like you’ve been cleaning all morning.” She shifts, holding the phone closer now. “This is a big deal, isn’t it? And don’t lie to me. You know I hate that.”

“I never lie to you, Ri.”

“No, but Mom does, and it pisses me off. So just tell me the truth. I’m eighteen. I’m old enough to talk to you about this stuff now.”

My chest rises and falls with a big sigh. Truthfully, I’ve really wanted to talk to her about Sebastian, but I’ve been too afraid to get her hopes up—to get my hopes up. But now, with her staring at me like this, I find the truth slipping from my lips.

“I met him at work.”

One of Riley’s brows arches up. “I thought you never dated guys from the club.”

“I don’t. But he’s . . . different.”

He’s so different—not just from guys at Caliber, but from anyone I’ve ever met.

“Is he a local?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No. He lives in California.”

Riley’s blue eyes go twinkly. “Cali? So, is he, like, a celebrity or something?”