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Chapters (58)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Abbi Waxman and her novels
  3. Berkley Titles by Abbi Waxman
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Summer
  7. ONE
  8. TWO
  9. THREE
  10. FOUR
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. TWENTY-ONE
  28. TWENTY-TWO
  29. TWENTY-THREE
  30. TWENTY-FOUR
  31. TWENTY-FIVE
  32. TWENTY-SIX
  33. TWENTY-SEVEN
  34. TWENTY-EIGHT
  35. TWENTY-NINE
  36. THIRTY
  37. THIRTY-ONE
  38. THIRTY-TWO
  39. THIRTY-THREE
  40. THIRTY-FOUR
  41. THIRTY-FIVE
  42. THIRTY-SIX
  43. THIRTY-SEVEN
  44. Fall
  45. THIRTY-EIGHT
  46. THIRTY-NINE
  47. FORTY
  48. FORTY-ONE
  49. FORTY-TWO
  50. FORTY-THREE
  51. FORTY-FOUR
  52. FORTY-FIVE
  53. EPILOGUE
  54. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  55. Readers Guide
  56. Questions for Discussion
  57. About the Author
  58. What’s next onyour reading list?

Polly felt a cramp in her serenity. She liked Asher, she definitely found him attractive, but as she turned to face him, her voice was firm. “No, I can’t go out with you.” She was really pink now. “I won’t.”

As Asher stood there, totally confused and with the last of his buzz ebbing away completely, Polly walked out of the room and headed upstairs to bed.

She didn’t even wait for tea.

THIRTY-ONE

When Bob opened his bedroom door the next morning, the first thing he saw was Laura, who had just opened hers.

They looked at each other for a second, then started grinning.

“Good morning,” said Bob.

“Good morning,” Laura replied. “Fancy meeting you here.” She’d been listening for the sound of his door, but there was no need to mention it. She’d woken a little earlier, and when her first thought had been Bob and the kiss from the night before, she decided to take a risk and catch him on his way to work. She wanted to see . . . well, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to see, but she wanted to see him, and that was as far as her plan went.

“It is a strange coincidence,” he said. “I was heading out to work.”

“I myself,” said Laura, “was going on a run.”

Bob came all the way into the hallway, and closed his door. “Well then,” he said, “perhaps we can commute together?”

“Of course,” she replied. “We’re going in the same direction, after all.”

Smiling, Bob turned and headed out of the front door, with Laura right behind him. Silently, they reached the sidewalk and the truck. Bob turned. “Well,” he said, “thanks for, um . . . foot-pooling?”

She laughed. “So much better for the environment.” She took a breath. “I’m sorry about Nick showing up like that.”

Bob looked at her, marveling at how familiar her face had become, how touching he found the pale trace of pillow marks on her upper cheek, the hint of toothpaste on her breath. First-thing-in-the-morning Laura was very beautiful. He felt overwhelmed and shy.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, then realized that sounded . . . wrong. “I mean, it was probably for the best.” No, no, that’s worse. He hurried to make himself clear. “Not that I regret kissing you, or anything . . .”

Her face fell, then grew still and cool. “We’ve only just met,” she said, nodding, “and we live in the same house, I get it.”

“No,” said Bob, horrified at himself. “I meant . . .”

“It’s OK,” said Laura, bending to tighten her shoe and cover her embarrassment. “I totally understand.” She straightened. “Let’s face it, donuts and alcohol are a dangerous combination. Have a good day at work.”

Then she turned and ran away, and it was all Bob could do to not run after her.

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