She walked up the stairs to her bedroom and kicked off her shoes, then lay back on her bed, taking a few minutes to re-center herself. It had been a long, fairly stressful day, so breathing was important. She laid her hands over her stomach and closed her eyes, focusing on the ceiling as she inhaled, then exhaled. If she had more time she’d go into her spare bedroom and do yoga, but she had to get ready for dinner, so she did about ten minutes of focused breathing, then got up and went into the bathroom. She washed her face, redid her makeup and changed clothes. By the time she went downstairs she felt immensely calmer. She had Monique to thank for getting her into yoga.

When they’d first met, Mia was all about school and studying, and Monique had told her she was a ball of nervous energy and anxiety. Then she’d dragged her to a yoga class and changed her life. Mia changed her diet and exercise routine and had slept better than ever before in those months following.

Of course, she’d like to think she taught calm, centered and all-about-Zen Monique how to cut loose and party. Reluctant at first, Monique had eventually taken partying to a new level and the two of them had been inseparable all through college. And now Monique was here with her as her right hand. Mia smiled. Sometimes the fates worked in your favor.

The doorbell rang and she went to answer it. It was Nathan, looking entirely too delectable in his relaxed jeans and a gray Henley, his muscles straining against the dark cotton of his shirt.

Friend zone, Mia, remember?

Yeah, yeah. With all the work she’d been doing over the past year, she hadn’t made time for fun. Fun being sex. Which was why she was ogling Nathan like she was sex starved.

Because she was.

“Hey,” she said. “Come on in.”

He wandered in and started looking around. “Nice place. If you like old shit.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up. My place is amazing.”

“Yeah. If you like old shit. How old is this place anyway?”

“It was built in the eighteen hundreds. But you know, it’s been modernized since then, asshole.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “You mean you can actually use the bathroom indoors?”

She laughed. “You are such a dick.”

He shot her a grin. “That’s why you like me. Because of my dick.”

“No. I do not.”

He gave her that look, the one where his chin came down, and he slanted a heavy-lidded gaze at her. It was sexy as hell and it made her quiver.

“Come on,” he said, “show me your awesome old place.”

“Vintage, Nathan.”

“Sure. Vintage.”

She took him on the tour and she had to admit he at least acted like he was interested as she pointed out crown moldings and arched doorways.

They had worked their way upstairs. He stopped in the doorway of her bedroom. He glanced at her bed, then looked over at her.

“Nice big bed. Expecting nice, big company?”

“No. I just like to stretch out.”

He leaned in closer to her. “Uh-huh. Hiding a boyfriend you haven’t told me about?”

“No.” He smelled entirely too good so she stepped away. “Let me show you the bathroom.”

She caught his smirk and wanted to slap it off his face. The problem with having a friend who knew you so well, and having said friend be someone you’d once slept with, was he also knew you well enough to know when you were thinking sex things about him.

And now that they were living in the same city again, this was going to be a constant problem. At least until she got laid again and she stopped thinking about Nathan in a sexual way.

She’d have to put “Have Sex” on the top of the To-Do list in her planner.

“Okay, so it’s kind of cool, in a girlie way.”

She rolled her eyes. “There isn’t a single spot of pink in the entire place. It’s not girlie. It’s just not all black and white and chrome like your place. Which, by the way, is decorated like a garage.”

He laughed. “Is not.”

“Seriously, Nathan. You need an interior designer to put some color in that place. It’s so stark.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s not like I spend a lot of time there anyway.”

They had worked their way back downstairs. She grabbed her purse. “You spend enough time there. And besides, now that I live here, I might just come visit you and I’d like to not think I’m in jail when I’m at your place.”

“Fine. Whatever. Bring me a purple vase or pillow to add some color or something.”

She laughed. “You know I’m going to do exactly that, don’t you?”

He put his arm around her waist and tugged her against him. “Why do you think I suggested it? You don’t think I can pick out stuff like that, do you?”

She shook her head and they walked out the door. She lived close enough to several restaurants, so they walked to Delfina.

“There’s a line,” he said.

She nodded. “There always is. But I made a reservation.”

He looked down at her. “Because you’re so smart.”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

They went inside and she gave her name.

“It’ll be a few minutes,” the hostess said. “Would you like to wait in the bar?”

“Sounds good to me,” Nathan said.

The restaurant was sleek and modern, but also felt charming and cozy. Mia had eaten here with Flynn and his girlfriend, Amelia, and loved it.

The bartender made his way over, so Nathan looked at her. “What would you like?”

“A pinot noir.”

Nathan nodded. “I’ll have a beer.”

After the bartender gave them their drinks, Nathan took a pull of his beer, then slid around on the cushioned bar stool to face her. “How did it go today at work?”

She had taken a sip or two of wine, so she set the glass on the bar top. “Good. Hectic. More than hectic. We barely got the place set up when a prospective client came in.”

“Yeah? Who was it?”

She slanted a look at him. “You know I can’t tell you until I sign him.”

“Oh. Confidentiality shit, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I can respect that.” He picked up his beer and took a drink. “Anyone I know?”

She laughed. “Nathan. I can’t tell you.”

He pointed his bottle at her. “You’re good at this.”

“At what?”

“Keeping secrets.”

“It’s not a secret. It’s my job. And I take it very seriously.”

“Relax, Mia. I won’t make you divulge your client info.”

She lifted her chin. “You couldn’t make me.”

He studied her. “You’re wound up tight.”

She realized he’d been teasing her, and she’d taken it too seriously. She picked up her glass and took a few sips, hoping the wine would relax her. Nathan wasn’t some stranger. He was her friend and he’d never put her in an awkward position. She was just being bitchy and that wasn’t like her—most days.

“You’re right. Sorry. It’s been a stressful few months.”

He smoothed his hand over her shoulder, then down her back. “I know you’ve been stressed and I’ve been wrapped up in my own shit and haven’t been here for you. So I’m sorry for that.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Like you said, you have your own things to worry about.”

“Which doesn’t mean you couldn’t pick up the phone and call me so we can talk. If I can’t fuck you, I can listen to you, ya know. That was the deal, right?”

She laughed. “Yes, that was the deal.”

“So . . . talk. What’s got you stressed?”

She inhaled a deep breath, then let it out. “Have I bitten off more than I can chew? Do I really have what it takes to make this business a success? Will people in this industry take me seriously even though I’m so young? Are they going to think that I’m using the Cassidy family name to climb the ladder without the smarts to back it up? I’m asking athletes to put their entire careers in my hands, and that’s a big deal. And I’m asking the people who’ve come on board my company to trust that I’m going to make them successful as well. So, you know . . . everything has me stressed right now.”