But she doesn’t know he’s so much more.

The day goes by as I try hard to busy myself with inn work and not think about the wounded man in the room. Though I made sure his lunch was delivered to him on time.

But now that it’s evening and the day staff is preparing to leave, there’s no reason for me to hide anymore.

My insides tingle as I take the steps down the hallway and finally reach the suite. My hand stops on the door.

What are you thinking, Autumn?

He’s Lukas Spencer. You’ve been writing to him for six years. You shared all the major events of your life with him. He’s a friend.

Nothing has changed now that you’ve met him properly, or due to the fact that he’s drop-dead sexy and much more handsome than you remember.

I take a few deep breaths and finally step inside. But I don’t find him in the room.

“Lukas?”

“Here,” he hollers from the balcony.

When I push aside the sheer curtains and pull the glass door open, my heartbeat races once again.

He’s sitting with his feet resting on the coffee table. He’s changed into another of his T-shirts, lavender this time, which hugs his muscular biceps and chest.

Does he deliberately buy T-shirts one size smaller, or is that how his perfect size fits him?

I know the former can’t be true. Lukas is so not one to show off.

“Were you working?” I nod toward his laptop resting on his lap.

“I’m trying, but no one is letting me work.” He shakes his head and shuts the laptop.

“Oh.” I look around but don’t find a single person who could have disturbed him.

He must have read the confusion on my face, because he explains. “My team. They want me to rest.”

“I think that’s wise.”

“Do you want one?” Lukas cocks his head toward the beer bottle sitting on the table, and then he immediately grimaces.

“Relax. I’m twenty-two. Let me get one for myself.” I walk back into the room and open the fridge, which is, as expected, stocked with drinks.

Any other day, I’d have happily opened a bottle of sparkling wine instead of beer, but not today. I’ve just declared to Lukas that I’m old enough and it doesn’t matter that I still haven’t acquired a taste for beer.

I walk back with a Budweiser for myself and perch on a chair opposite him. “Are you allowed to drink?”

His lips twist into a grim line. “It was just one, and I was bored.”

When I open the beer with a plastic bottle opener hanging on my keychain, Lukas grins. “You’re really prepared.”

“I have to be. I run an inn.” I smile back and take a small sip.