“Okay.”

Okay? Why did I say “okay”? I’m so flustered.

Atlas laughs softly. When I open my eyes, he’s backing away from me, heading to the driver’s side of his car. Before he leaves, he rests his arm on the roof of the car and says, “I hope you get some sleep tonight.”

I nod, but I don’t know if that’s going to be possible. I feel like every bit of caffeine I’ve consumed today has just kicked in all at once. I won’t be able to sleep after this date. I’m going to be thinking about the letter he let me read. And when I’m not thinking about that, I’m going to be replaying our first kiss in my head all night long, wondering what part two is going to feel like.

“Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…”

The familiar sounds of Finding Nemo are coming from Allysa and Marshall’s living room when I open the door to their apartment.

When I pass by the kitchen, Marshall is standing in front of the refrigerator with both doors wide open. He nods a greeting, and I wave, but I don’t make small talk with him because I’m aching to hug Emerson.

When I enter the living room, I’m shocked to find Ryle on the sofa. He didn’t mention he would be off work tonight. Emerson is asleep on his chest, and Allysa is nowhere around.

“Hey.”

Ryle doesn’t look up to greet me, but he doesn’t have to look up for me to know something is bothering him. I can see the firm set of his jaw—a dead giveaway that he’s angry. I want to pick up Emerson, but she looks peaceful, so I leave her on Ryle’s chest. “How long has she been asleep?”

Ryle is still staring at the television, one of his hands protectively on Emmy’s back, the other behind his head. “Since this movie started.”

I recognize the scene, which lets me know it’s been about an hour.

Allysa finally walks into the room, breathing life into it. “Hey, Lily. I’m sorry she’s asleep; we tried so hard to keep her awake.” We give each other a two-second glance. She silently apologizes that Ryle is here. I silently tell her it’s okay. They’re siblings—I can’t expect him not to show up when he knows she’s babysitting his daughter.

Ryle motions for Allysa. “Can you put Emerson on her pallet? I need to talk to Lily.”

The curtness in his voice alarms both me and Allysa. We give each other another look as she pries Emerson off Ryle’s chest. The ache to hold her only grows wider as Allysa lays her on the pallet.

Ryle stands up, and for the first time since I walked in, he makes eye contact with me. He gives me a once-over, noticing the outfit and the heels I’m wearing. I can see the slow roll of his throat. He nudges his head upward, indicating he wants to speak to me on the rooftop balcony.