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A brief grin appeared as she tucked her camera away in her purse. “I ramble when I’m tired or stressed.”

Oliver glanced down the street. Randall was polishing off his hot pepper and relish-smothered hot dog. “I ramble after I’ve seen a great film. Or when I’m drunk.”

“Ooh, can’t wait for that! “Drunk Ollie—unlocked!”

Her carefree mention of his nickname—a first for her—jerked his head back.

Georgie stilled, her brows drawing in. “Oops. Bit presumptuous of me. Do people even call you⁠—”

“No, it’s fine! I like it.” He smiled warmly. “I like it all the more when you say it.”

Her eyes softened, the lines creasing her forehead fading. “Okay. Ollie.” She tugged on her scarf.

Spurred on by the return of her cute grin, Oliver wanted to elaborate further about what he liked about her, but Michael had other ideas.

“Madonna wannabes, street meat aficionados, and teachers out past their bedtime, would you please stop farting around!” He foisted his hand in the air as several taxis zoomed past. “It’s late and I’m freezing. Let’s gooo!”

Georgie’s smile vanished. “Oh! Before I…” Reaching into her black bucket bag, she rooted around, causing the flat leather beaver keychain attached to its strap to swing. “Your notes, sir.” She pulled out a paper square and handed it to him.

Unfolding the page, Oliver discovered line upon line of cursive along with several hand-drawn illustrations. “This is amazing! Thanks! I’ll have a read tomorrow.”

Georgie didn’t have to go the extra mile, but she had. For him. Oliver folded the paper. Maybe she does like me. Looking up, he caught her eye and grinned, but then doubt elbowed its way in. Hold up. Any thoughtfulness she’s shown is just Georgie being Georgie.

It didn’t mean anything. But he sure wished it did.

Two green and orange cabs pulled up along the curb where Carlton took a slight turn before it stretched toward Yonge Street. “Geor—gie!” Leesa hollered several feet away. “You coming? I thought you had to be up at six or somethin’?”

Oliver scratched above his temple. “In less than five hours?”

“It’s fine,” Georgie replied through a yawn, staying put. “Lack of sleep is my default setting these days.”

But it didn’t have to be. Not when his apartment was across the street from the restaurant.

She could sleep on the couch, or have his bedroom, whichever she preferred, but he would need to make sure he offered in a way that didn’t sound lascivious or presumptuous. Sleep and only sleep was on his mind and he respected Georgie far too much to make her feel unsafe or threatened.

Although, something told him she could more than take care of herself if the need arose.

With Michael checking his watch and Randall and Leesa piling into a cab, he had to act fast. “Do you live far?” he asked, taking the easy way out. Within seconds, the weight of self-loathing thrashed in his gut.

“Nope. A ten-minute taxi ride away.”

“Gi!” Michael held open the remaining cab’s door for Kaitlin as the twins were whisked off into the darkness.

“Coming.” She waved then turned back to Oliver. “This was fun. Maybe we’ll make a McNally’s regular out of you yet!”

“Maybe,” he offered generously. If there was any way to guarantee Will wouldn’t be around, he’d be there by Georgie’s side in a heartbeat. Seeing her relaxed and having fun—when she wasn’t putting sexist bullies in their rightful place—made him relax and have fun, too. A first in a long time.

Georgie twisted slightly like she was torn between leaving and staying. “Oliver, I want you to know I didn’t leave a negative review for your presentation. Actually, I didn’t leave one at all. Grading student papers is one thing, but grading another educator, a PhD?” She shrugged. “Teaching is tough enough as it is, and I don’t feel comfortable doing such a thing.”

Oliver’s heart felt full. “I wouldn’t either. Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Flashing a quick grin, she clasped the strap of her purse. “Well”—reluctance tempered her voice—“see you Monday.” She backed up a few steps then finally turned toward the cab.

“Night, Georgie. Get home safe.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Sweet dreams, Ollie!”

Definitely. He waved back. Of you.