Page 42 of Come Find Me Tonight

She meets me out front, changed into a skin-tight peach-colored one-piece with spaghetti straps and shorts that only go to her mid-thigh. “What’s this?” she asks. Her hair is tied up in a messy knot on the top of her head, leaving soft ringlets to frame her perfect face.

“My other car,” I say like I’m cool.

Her laugh echoes. “Wow, look at you.”

I hand her the bottle. “Here.”

“Ooh, this looks good.” We turn to the front door. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

“I like your peach,” I say with a wink.

She gasps as I walk by her into the house. “Robby!” She laughs.

We get dinner delivered, and this is more takeout than I have in a month at least. Appa has to do a series of story posts, and the company will cover her orders as part of the sponsorship. We order steaks with baked potatoes and side salads from a local steakhouse that’s on the pricier side. I’d love to take her there someday, but the privacy of her house is the right call for where we’re at currently. Things feel like they could be solid, but it’s so new.

And there’s the added layer of Appa being so well known. If she’s seen with me, people might speculate that I’m Rook. I don’t necessarily want my family or friends to know about Rook. Not because I’m embarrassed, but that I don’t want to be recognized in public by followers.

When our order is delivered, Appa takes the entrees out of their takeout boxes and neatly plates them on her expensive square plates. The dining room table looks like it’s straight out of a magazine after staging it for the post. I watch from the archway as she lights a candle. The flicker is reflected in the ceramic dishes, and she really did earn every follower she has.

“Let’s pop this open,” Appa says, grabbing the wine bottle from the counter.

“Let me help.” She hands me a corkscrew, and I remove the cork from the bottle with ease. I take it off the corkscrew and set them both on the counter.

She picks up the cork. “I usually destroy these things,” she jokes. “Do you keep corks? Or just the one?” She raises her eyebrow at me, but her smile fades when she sees the logo printed on the side of the cork. “Robby…this is the same logo on the cork you left.”

“Surprise, baby.” I smile at her and pour two glasses from the fresh wine bottle. “It’s my family’s vineyard in Napa.”

Appa sinks to the floor, sitting on her ankles. “It was always right in front of me…you were right here the whole time.” She looks at the cork in her fingers again. “Your message. Oh, my God, it all makes so much sense now.”

That was more dramatic than I had expected.

I kneel next to her. “I thought you only wanted Rook, but I wanted you to find me, too.”

Her eyes dart up to mine. “No, I was dying to know who you were. I looked up this logo, but I couldn’t find anything that tied you to it.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and open the vineyard’s social media profile, managed by my dad’s assistant. The top pinned post is a photo of my family and me on one of our annual vacations to Italy. I’m shirtless, and my scar is visible if zoomed in. “I’m right here.” I hand my phone over to her to investigate.

Her eyes scan over my phone screen, and her manicured fingers pinch the screen to enlarge the photo. “I didn’t think to look up their socials.” She hands me my phone back.

I swallow. “I planned on leaving it anyway that night, but seeing you in that condition, it was so clear that you needed more,” I say, ignoring the cracks in my voice.

She drops her gaze to the cork again and twists it in her fingers. “I’ve always had the worst periods, and I’ve been on birth control since I was fourteen. It helps, but I still get bad ones. That one was horrible. And being anemic, I get so sick because of the blood loss.” She sounds as if she could cry. I reach up to grab our glasses from the counter and hand her one.

“If you’ll have me, you don’t have to suffer alone again.” I lift my glass.

She gives me a small smile. “Cheers.” She clicks her glass against mine.

I straighten out and hold my hand out to her. “Come on, let’s eat.”

We head to the dining room with our wine. She brings the bottle with her and sets it between us. I put my glass down by my plate, as she does with hers, and she takes a picture for her story.

“It’s about time I set the table for two,” she adds.

I smile at her because it’s such a full-circle moment. “You’re going to get DMs saying you’re having dinner with Rook,” I say, sitting next to her on the velvety upholstered cushion of the dining room chair.

Appa smirks, grabbing the wine bottle to top off our glasses. “Good, let them speculate.”

After the sun goes down, I stay as Robby—not Rook—and hold her all night long. No sex, no games, nothing unexpected. Just the two of us sharing her space in peace. I met her in a stuffy house with the bass turned up too high, and six years later, she’s in my arms in the quiet.