My heartbeat quickened as I switched off the television and walked from the couch to the front door, my mind a jumble of questions. If it was Sylvia, what did it mean that she was knocking at my door at nine o’clock on a Saturday night? Did she still want to be just friends? If I invited her in, could I be trusted to keep my hands to myself? It seemed like a bad sign that I wasn’t sure.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. She wore a long wool coat buttoned all the way up, and her legs were bare below the knee. On her feet she wore high heels, the same ones she’d worn on Christmas Eve. Her hair was done like it had been on Christmas Eve too, and she was wearing the perfume—the one I’d told her never to wear around me. Snowflakes clung to her coat and hair.

Right away I assumed she’d been out at a party or something, and jealousy kicked me in the gut. What I wouldn’t give to see her across the room at some function and be able to walk over and introduce myself. Get to know her without so many fucking complications. Tell her she took my breath away and kiss her until she lost hers.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

I realized I had been standing there staring at her, and she was out in the cold. “Oh—sorry. Yes.” I opened the door and stood back as she entered, then shut the door behind her.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Okay.” I shoved my hands into my pockets. “You?”

“Terrible.” She started to unbutton her coat.

“Terrible?” I frowned. “Where were you tonight?”

“Home alone. The kids are sleeping at Mack and Frannie’s. My parents are out.”

Confused, I glanced at her high heels. “You were home alone?”

“Yeah. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She finished with the buttons and clutched the coat together at her chest.

My cock twitched. Was she fucking naked under there? “You couldn’t?”

“No. And it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to break the rules.” She opened the coat and let it fall to the floor.

My jaw dropped. She wasn’t naked.

She was wearing the red dress.

“I want to touch you,” she said, her eyes locked on mine. “I want to hear you tell me I’m beautiful. I want you to misbehave.”

“Sylvia,” I said, working very hard to keep my cool. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Yes.” She began slowly walking backward down the hall.

I followed her like a predator stalking its prey. “Have you been drinking?”

“Not a drop.”

“Are you under the influence of drugs?”

She shook her head.

“Am I dreaming right now?”