I had a sudden thought. “So, when were you and Siobhan talking about our ‘vacationship’?” The word felt awkward on my tongue, and I barely got it out.

“When you went to the bathroom.”

“Oh, right.” Mental note: fewer bathroom breaks.

Dinner conversation turned a little pedestrian after that, and it was my doing.

I just couldn’t get past the idea of Josh divesting himself from our budding romance, or at least what I thought was a budding romance. I’d been excited about starting the new year with Josh, sharing a new beginning. It was kind of like what Siobhan had said about her plans with Liam.

I had arrived in Hawaii thinking I’d throw myself wholeheartedly into whatever it was between us, but hearing how he’d described it to Siobhan, I realised we had very different ideas about what it was and what it could be. My plans to broach his admission about being stuck in his life were pushed to the far recesses of my mind. It was very clear that I was part of the problem. I was Josh’s great big fear.

I fretted most of the night, not able to sink into the blissful ignorance of a deep sleep. I woke often and a couple of those times, I watched Josh sleep, wondering what the hell was going on with him. Why had he gone ahead with our trip if all he wanted was to get laid? Couldn’t he do that back home? With someone who wasn’t falling for him? With someone other than me?!

Then I thought about those bitchy young women by the pool and I felt sick. I didn’t want Josh to be with someone else—anyone else. I wanted him to make me laugh, to plan thoughtful excursions for me, to make love to me. How could he still think of us as just buddies? Even if all the other stuff didn’t exist, when we had sex it was more than mere fucking.

At least it was for me.

I finally drifted off to sleep around four in the morning. Josh woke me with tea around seven. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said, kissing my cheek until I stirred into consciousness. “I made you some tea, just how you like it.”

I rubbed my gritty eyes and pushed myself up to sitting. I glanced at the clock and calculated that I’d had barely five hours of sleep, most of it broken. Ugh. Josh looked annoyingly refreshed. Double ugh.

“You’ve showered.” It was the first thing I thought to say. He laughed.

“Yeah, still on Chicago time. I’ve been awake a couple of hours already.”

Of course—jet lag. No wonder I’d had so much trouble sleeping. It also explained why I felt so groggy. I pushed aside all the ugly thoughts from my fitful night, because there was Josh smiling at me and he’d called me “gorgeous” and he’d made me tea. Tea how I liked it, just like a boyfriend would.

I picked up the mug and took a swig. I groaned. “God, I really needed this. Thank you.”