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Wolfe was like no one else I’d ever met—or would likely ever meet again.

“Right?” he prompted when I fell silent.

“Wolfe,” I gritted out.

“Please, grá?” That rasp, the accent, the pleading tone of his voice.

I glowered at him. “Here’s the deal.” I jabbed a finger in his direction. He grinned, triumphant. “I don’t want to know what part you’re at. All thoughts and questions will be held until the end.”

“Agreed.” He held out his hand for mine. When I slid my palm against his, he yanked me to my feet in a burst of strength. His eyes were dark, searching. “But we will be talking about it.”

“Fine, you big brute.” I closed out of my empty document and pulled up the audio book. I’d been lucky to get two big-named voice actors to do a dual narration of my book. I thought of Christian’s voice—the way he’d played Caden so perfectly. The gruffness, the absolute desperation. I blushed just thinking about it. “Here you go.”

I hit play, the opening credits filtering into the room.

I grabbed one of Moira’s books and waved the cover at him. “I’m starting without you.”

“That’s fine.” He dropped himself onto the couch, legs shifting over the floor. “I’m more than happy with my reading selection of the day, thank you very much.”

The first chapter began as I was halfway up the staircase. I listened to Lauren’s voice float through the room, going over the details of Harper’s life. I’d loved writing that book. Had loved stepping into the world and mind of someone else for even just a few hours. It made my mind quiet, my struggles fade to the background.

I listened for only a few minutes longer, the description of a hot and sticky New York subway filtering through the room. Harper was just about to board her train, phone clenched in her hand.

I saw the pages as if I were inside them—Harper moving onto the train, grabbing the rail above her head with one hand. The hot press of air, her dying cell phone with its warm battery. The stick of her blouse to the small of her back. The desperate wish for a blast of cool, fall air.

And then, movement. A frantic shout of, “Wait!”

Harper’s head lifting, locking eyes with a man sprinting to catch the train before the doors shut. He stumbled at the sight of her, bright blue eyes widening in surprise. She nearly took a step—just one—but held herself in place. The doors closed just as the man reached them, his large palm splayed on the glass.

He looked only at her.

I shook my head, shaking the vision away.

I’d seen the entire scene so clearly, so viscerally, I wasn’t convinced I wasn’t seeing it in real time. That was what I missed—being so swept away, so tangled up, my world became their world.

Silently, I climbed the steps and left Wolfe and my book alone.

I emerged again to make dinner.

Wolfe was still in the same spot, hands folded over his stomach with his head tipped back and eyes closed. The stair below me creaked and he snapped to attention.

“Putting you to sleep?” I asked lightly.

“You know I don’t sleep. How do I pause this thing?”

I woke my laptop long enough to hit pause, shocked to see just how far he’d gotten.

I’d curled up in my bed upstairs and cracked the next book. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done nothing but read for an entire day but the sky outside was turning dark and I felt…good.

“You’re almost halfway there.”

“Good. I’ll be able to finish it tonight and talk to you about it by the time you wake up.”

Based on the dialogue I’d heard when I entered, Harper and Caden had just finished drinks in town, both of them terrified at the connection they shared.

I wanted to write about soulmates. About those unexplainable connections that came around maybe only once in a lifetime. I’d always been fascinated by the concept—was there truly only one person for everyone? Could there be more? And, more importantly, how would you know?

“I’m going to go make dinner. You can continue.”