I hadn't been in a man's embrace in twenty-six years, hadn't kissed anyone in ages, and the last time I'd even brushed against a guy was when the delivery guy accidentally touched my hand while handing over my food.
I had played by the rules for so long; this was my reward.
Just as I was getting lost in the fantasy of Andrew's perfect physique, my earlier wild imaginings of a thrilling mystery plot faded away.
Leaning casually against the doorframe, Andrew tossed me a piece of paper. "Hey, what's up?"
I blinked, confused.
He pointed to my face. "You've got some blood on your nose…"
"Seriously?" I felt my cheeks flush.
"Yeah, it's about to drip into your mouth." He handed me a bag of dried dates, too.
I felt like I was dreaming.
In my dream, Andrew stood half-naked, grinning at me, beckoning me with a finger.
"Come here."
Just as I was about to touch his abs, music started playing in my ears.
"You're getting married, and I'm not the groom…"
I jolted awake, realizing there was no handsome man, no Andrew with those chiseled abs. Just my phone was vibrating on the nightstand, displaying a call from "The Food Thief."
"Hello?"