Page 38 of Against the Clock

“I take it back, man. I think you might not need my help after all.”

“Just make sure she gets it. I’ll forward you the address.”

“You got it. Now go get to work and try to win, huh?”

“Always do, Brent.”

I turn the phone off. I can’t wait to hear Kelsey’s reaction to what’s coming her way.

I can’t wait to see her in my number.

CHAPTER 16

KELSEY

I’m half hungover when the second knock of the day raps against my door. There’s already a huge bouquet of fuchsia roses on the counter, and a fresh surge of happiness courses through me as I glance at them.

A quick look out the peephole shows a guy in a navy polo holding a huge box with a navy bow wrapped around it.

“Delivery for Kelsey Cole,” the man says in a bored voice.

I throw the latch on the top of my apartment door, then the bolt, and open it.

“Hi, I’m Kelsey,” I say, confused and still slightly drunk from all the mimosas at brunch. The buzz didn’t help me write any more notes on my story, and the building headache won’t either. So much for my responsibilities today.

“Sign here,” the guy says, thrusting a clipboard at me.

I do as he asks, signing across the dotted line. He sets the package down in front of my door and I stare at it, then at the logo across the top of the paperwork.

“It’s from the Wilmington Beavers?” I ask, confused.

“Nah, it’s from Daniel Harrison. I’m just the courier for the Beavers. Want me to take it inside?”

“No,” I say quickly. “I got it.”

“Cool. Have a good day,” he says, then takes the clipboard, leaving me with the cardboard box and bow.

I lean down, using my shoulder to keep the door open, and heft the box into my arms.

“Oof,” I say. It’s heavier than I thought it would be. The door closes softly behind me. I juggle the package for a second with my knee and one arm as I click the lock into place. The weight of the loaded box makes me shuffle slowly forward, the huge bow tickling my nose. How the courier got this upstairs without pulling a muscle, I have no idea.

I bite my cheeks in excitement, placing the box down on my teensy kitchen table.

“Well, Daniel Harrison, you sure are raising the bar for every dude that comes after you,” I mutter.

I glance at my phone charging on the polished kitchen counter, the social media notifications now so daunting that I’m afraid to even open the apps. I don’t know if I want to see Daniel and myself through BeaverTok’s eyes. And if there’s one thing I know about social media… it’s that there are going to be a ton of nasty comments along with the nice.

Maybe I should just delete all the apps.

Daniel hasn’t texted, not even after I sent him a pic of the roses with a heartfelt thank you.

He’s probably just busy.

Not too busy to send this, whatever it is. I cross my arms, staring at the box.

I grab my phone and make a gut decision. I need reinforcements.

Cameron’s face fills the screen in the next second.