“This is a big house for one person,” Levi agrees.

“It’s an investment. And I love the view from the west side.”

“Killer view,” Levi says as he follows me out to the living room. He’s casual today, in jeans and a T-shirt. His hair is cut short, and he’s greying at the temples.

I’m quite sure his job is the source of the grey.

“What’s your schedule over the next week?” I ask. “I could use some help around here. I’ll pay in beer and titillating conversation.”

“I have Sunday and Monday free this week,” he says, then narrows his eyes on me. “You look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Not buying it.”

“My job’s in jeopardy,” I remind him. “Not just my job, my fucking life. So, yeah, I’ve had some sleepless nights.”

He purses his lips. “Nope, that’s not it.”

I drop my notebook on the couch and pace to the windows that look out past the city to the water then cross my arms over my chest.

“It’s not supposed to be this way,” I say at last. “She’s been my best friend since I was nineteen. Through medical school, and internships. Through the death of her mom, and starting our careers and all of the shit we go through in life. It’s Joy for Christ’s sake.”

I turn to Levi. He’s sitting on the couch, one ankle crossed over the opposite leg, and he’s watching me without judgment.

That’s the best thing about Levi, he listens without judging.

“Over the past few years, we only see each other when one of us needs a date for an event. She’s always my plus one.”

“I know.”

“But the last couple of months?” I shake my head and turn back to the view. “It’s different. I see her more often, and we connect even deeper than we did before.”

“You’ve been in love with her for years.”

I whirl at his words and stare at him, dumbstruck.

“You’re not stupid, Jace. No other woman has stuck around because you always run them off. They’re not Joy.”

“Or, I just didn’t want a relationship.”

“Remember Allison Thorton?”

I cringe. “She couldn’t cook worth shit. Her lasagna was awful. Joy puts . . .” My words trail off when Levi gives me a knowing look. “Point made.”

“You’ve compared every woman to Joy whether you meant to or not,” he says, and I laugh humorlessly. Because he’s right. And no woman ever compared to Joy.

I think back over the past fifteen years and sigh. I’ve been in love with her since the minute she sat next to me in physics and introduced herself with the brightest smile I’d ever seen. Her brown hair was a mess. Her skin was perfect and smooth, and her eyes seemed to see right through me.

I was shy and dorky, and she didn’t care.

“I don’t want to lose the friendship.”

“Who says you have to?”

“When I fuck this up, she won’t want to be my friend anymore.”

“So, don’t fuck it up,” he says as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. I turn to him again, and he grins. “If it’s that important, you work for it. You don’t fuck it up.”

“I think it might be the most important thing in my life, and a week ago, I would have told you that position belonged to surgery.”

“Surgery doesn’t love you back,” my brother says soberly. “And it never will.”

I nod, shove my hands into my pockets, and swallow hard.

“You need to go for it,” he continues. “Joy’s awesome. We all adore her. There’s no one better for you than her.”

“I know.” I take a deep breath. “I know it. I was already leaning that way because I’m having a very hard time keeping my hands to myself.”

“Is she saying no?”

I think back on last night, the two of us on Joy’s couch, me holding her close as we whispered in the dark, and I smile.

“No. She’s not saying no.”

“Well, there you go,” Levi says with a nod. “Now, let’s go shoot some hoops so I can kick your ass.”

“You can try.”

I need to talk to her. I’ve thought about it all day, and that’s what it boils down to. I need to sit down with her and put everything out on the table, explain how I feel, and ask her to tell me what’s going on in that gorgeous head of hers.

We’ve always been good at talking. Communication isn’t a challenge for us.

So, I’m on my way to her place. She should be home by now. We’ll have dinner and talk through everything like mature adults.

I’ve missed her today. I spent the rest of the day with Levi, shooting hoops and buying paint, but my mind kept drifting back to the sweet woman with the bright smile and soft, honey-brown hair.

Jesus, I have it bad.

Anxious to see her, I jog up her steps and walk inside without knocking. We know the codes to each other’s doors, and we never knock.

It’s always been that way.

I intend to greet her normally and wait to touch her until we’ve laid our feelings out there, but when I walk inside, Joy is at her kitchen island, one hip leaning on the countertop as she thumbs through the mail.

Her hair is still in a knot on the top of her head. She’s biting her lower lip. And her eyes brighten with happiness when she glances up to see me come through the door.

“Hey, you,” she says, but I don’t reply.

Fuck talking it out first. Every thought of communication flies right out of my head. The most important thing in this moment is getting my hands on her.

I stomp through the house, around the island, and with one hand on her hip and the other on her cheek, I lower my lips to hers.

She gasps in surprise, her eyes wide.

But she doesn’t pull away, and I sink into her, our lips softening against each other. She sighs and buries her fingers in the hair at the back of my neck.

Jesus, she’s sweet.

I boost her up onto the countertop and reach up to pull her hair down. I want the soft strands in my hands as I kiss the hell out of her.

She sighs as her hands drift from my shoulders, down my back, to cup my ass over my jeans.

Her legs are spread wide, and I’m pressed between them, my hard cock snug against her hot core. I want to strip her bare and sink into her. I want to make her cry out my name.

I want to make her forget her name.

If I’d known years ago that it would feel like this with Joy, I would have made my move sooner.

My hands move back to her face, and I end the kiss, resting my forehead against hers as we both catch our breath.

“I came over to talk,” I say when I can find my voice.

“That was a good conversation,” she says and swallows hard, making me chuckle. “We should have more of those. They’re important.”

“I love your sassy mouth,” I reply before covering said mouth with mine again and just drinking her in. I want her. Now. Here.

But we’re not ready for that. And we really do need to talk.

“How was your day?” I ask when I pull away and smooth stray strands of hair off her face.

“I don’t remember,” she replies with a smile. “Kidding. It was fine. I delivered four puppies via C-section, and I only got peed on twice.”

“Sexy,” I say with a wink.

“It’s good that I have a shower at work, along with several changes of clothes.” She drags her fingers down my cheek. “How is Levi?”

“A pain in my ass.”

“So, normal then.”

I laugh and kiss her hand. “Yeah, he’s good. I bought paint and kicked his ass playing some basketball.”

“Are we painting your house?” she asks, blinking rapidly.

“Well, Levi and I are, yes. You’re welcome to come help.”

“Can I come supervise?”

“No, I’m the boss.”

She smirks and jumps off the counter. “Right. Well, we’ll see how long that lasts. I’m a very good painter, you know.”