The door knocks me back and I spill the mocha down the front of my dress. The sticky ice-cold chocolate and whipped cream drink drenches the cotton. I gasp. The door hitting me hurt, and the coffee is cold. The door swings back and the man responsible steps onto the sidewalk. He looks at me with a stunned expression on his face.

“Jessie. Are you alright?”

My mouth falls open. “You…you…”

A glob of whipped cream slides down the front of my dress. Will watches its descent down my chest. I wipe it away and fling it from my hands.

“Are you okay?” he asks again. “Sorry. I didn’t see you…” He trails off.

“I’m fine. It’s fine.”

I move past Will. Gavin is walking the other way again. He’s talking on his phone now. I realize with surprise that he didn’t even see me. Will opened the shop door in that one split second of opportunity and sabotaged our meet-cute.

“Can I get you napkins? Dry cleaning? Something to clean off with?” He starts digging in his pocket like he’ll find a napkin in there. He’s in outdoorsy clothes too. I haven’t seen him in anything besides a suit in years. It’s weird. And distracting. I scowl.

“Stop trying to be nice. It’s confusing.”

“What? I’m nice,” says Will.

I widen my eyes in disbelief. He grins, flashing his teeth, and I remember all the articles that have called him ruthless.

“Fine. I’m not nice. I’m only offering to help so you don’t bring a personal injury lawsuit against me or slander me in the news.”

I tilt my head and my wet dress make a sucking noise. I grimace.

Will looks at my chest again and his eyelids lower, making him look sleepy and aroused at the same time.

In my fantasies, sometimes Will plays a role, always the villain. Sometimes the fantasies get away from me and Will, the villain, captures me, ties me up, and does things…that I like. Those fantasies never make any sense. They confuse me.

Like now.

“Umm,” I clear my throat and try not to notice my nipples tightening. It’s the ice-cold mocha. Not Will’s horny eyes. Clearly.

Gavin’s a block away, talking on the phone, pacing near Mr. Kwan’s ladder.

I have a moment of inspiration.

“Bye, Will.”

I wave him off and hurry to the ladder. If I can climb up a few rungs and wait until Gavin passes, I can fall into his arms. It doesn’t matter that I’m covered in coffee and whipped cream. I have a week to make love happen with Gavin, and I’m determined to give fate a helping hand. Plus, I don’t know when I’ll see him next without blatantly knocking on his front door.

It’s now or never.