Me: Where are you? What happened?

I hated myself as soon as I hit send on that message, sensing the neediness those five words revealed. Two more drinks sank in my belly before I got tired of waiting for a reply.

Fuck him.

Pushing to my feet, I headed for the door, my path not as straight as I had intended it to be. I was drunk. And past caring. And even though I knew I shouldn’t be behind the wheel at all, I drove by his house, noticing his car was missing.

Unable to help myself, I took the long way home, the really long way, the one that detoured all the way past Aubrey’s fairytale mansion. Her luxury compact was MIA too.

Well, wasn’t that just fucking convenient.

It wasn’t proof of anything. Not really. I repeated that to myself, trying to believe it.

Not wanting to see anything else, I went straight home, dropping into bed without taking off my makeup. My mind swirled with denials as I drifted off to a restless sleep.

* * *

A knock on my window woke me up before the sun was even peeking over the horizon. Grumbling, I stumbled to the blinds, squinting out into the gray sky.

West.

I hesitated, my sluggish brain trying to process his appearance. Finally, I sighed and pointed toward the door. Walking through the cottage to meet him, I shoved a hand through the snarls of my hair, knowing I looked like a hot mess and not giving a shit.

I didn’t let him in. Instead, I slipped out the door to join him on the porch. Even pre-dawn, the air was already warm and humid. My thin tank and cotton shorts weren’t much protection from his hot gaze raking over me. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hide the reaction my nipples were having to the sight of his scruffy face and his blatant perusal.

Pulling his arm out from behind his back, he handed me a small bouquet of white and blue flowers. My eyes widened in surprise. He’d never brought me flowers before. I raised them to my nose, sniffing in appreciation. His other hand presented me with three paper airplanes, each folded differently.

I cocked my head in question. We hadn’t spoken a word yet, and the silence seemed ominous, even though he came bearing gifts.

Leaning close, he tucked an unruly strand of hair behind my ear. “One for each day I’ll be gone.”

After a long moment, I accepted them, tucking them under my arm for later. The flowers were nice, but they weren’t what I needed right now. I just wanted to know what happened last night.

I waited, leaning against the doorjamb, letting my eyes do all the talking I needed.

“Sadie, I’m sorry about last night.” His hands came up to cup my shoulders, but my expression remained unchanged. “I was having trouble with an engine, and I was using my phone to stream YouTube videos on how to fix it, as ridiculous as that sounds. It killed my battery. I didn’t find your text until a few hours ago. I haven’t even been to bed. I’ve been working on it all night — look.”

He held up his hand near my face, the porch light illuminating a myriad of small cuts around his knuckles and grease under the nails.

“I hate that I missed one of our last nights together for a while. I saw Wyatt when I went by the house to grab some gear. He said you stopped by the Wreck? And you had dressed up?”

I nodded once.

“Did you take a picture?” he asked hopefully, tipping my chin up so he could see me better.

“Nope.”

He deflated, and a twinge of conscience hit me.

Studying him closer, I saw the bags under his eyes. And he smelled like motor oil. He didn’t look like a guy who’d been out partying and having a good time without me last night.

“Right.” He nodded. “I deserve that. I just wanted to apologize in person before I left. I’ll miss you. I’ll try to do a better job texting while I’m gone, okay?”

I licked my lips, hating that I cared so much, hating the power he had over my mood.

Taking the flowers from me and setting them down on the doormat, he wrapped his big arms around me, tugging me into his embrace. I stood stiffly at first, but my body responded to his heat, melting into it, softening. When he nudged my face up for a kiss, I didn’t resist.

His lips were soft, gentle. The kiss was undemanding and slow, a promise of what was to come. I slid my arms around his back and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer. My lips opened and his tongue swept inside, tangling with mine, but not trying to dominate.

He tasted like coffee. As our lips slanted together, he cupped my face, and I lifted up on my tiptoes to keep the connection. Finally breaking apart, he rained kisses over my nose, cheeks, and forehead.