I run my hands through my hair and look in the mirror. I haven’t seen much of my reflection the last few years. I could use a haircut and a good night’s sleep in a real bed before I return to Alaska and my tent. I wonder if I can talk Shelby into sharing hers, for old time’s sake.

Well, not quite like that.

I shove away the memories and pull open the bathroom door. Shelby is sitting up on the couch, a full drink in her hand. Her smile is blinding and sweet as she takes in my tall form.

“Good! You look all cleaned up!”

“I thought you said you liked my man smell,” I tease, relieved to see she’s stopped crying.

“Oh, I do,” she says with a wink. It looks like she brushed her hair. And she’s wearing pants. But she looks just as good in them. “I should probably test this smell, too. C’mere.”

My heart rate ramps up as I drop my bag by the door and walk over to her. She stands, wrapping her arms around me easily. Too easily. Too familiar. And I can’t help but hold her back.

“You smell exactly like I remember. My favorite.”

“And you smell like more tequila,” I say. “Why don’t I get us some food?”

“I am feeling hungry,” she admits. Then she reaches between us and slides her hand along the zipper of my Levi’s, pressing in a way that has me instantly rising to the occasion. “But not for food.”

A small groan escapes the back of my throat.

Fuck. This is bad.

“Shelb,” I start, stepping back and reaching for her hand.

“Come on, Cam. It’s been so long. Aren’t you curious? D’you think we still fit like we used to?”

I exhale sharply, my blood surging at her whispered words.

We used to fit perfectly. So perfectly I had to travel to the ends of the earth to forget it.

I’m not doing this.

(I want to do this. I really do. But I’m definitely not.)

“Shelb,” I try again. “This isn’t what you want.”

She straightens, her expression somehow both hurt and annoyed. “How do you know what I want?”

I glance around, noticing her glass is empty again. Man, she’s a good actress.