All right. He would tell her the truth. But only some of it. The whole truth would scare her. The whole truth scared him. And more importantly, the whole truth was useless. Because, he reminded himself for the millionth time, her life was here. In Toronto. Deciding between collections development and corporate taxonomy. Where she didn’t have to make little X’s on the calendar to try to make time go faster. “I’m getting a pretty unsettling preview of what empty-nesting is going to be like. I could use the company.”

She sighed. He had cracked her. “Is there a pool in that hotel where I can try out my new swimming moves?”

“There is.”

She sighed again, but it was an overdramatic, jokey one. “I suppose since we’re not not-friends, I pretty much have to come.”

“Exactly. You don’t have a choice. It’s in the fine print: when your not not-friend is having an empty-nest panic attack and watching The Little Mermaid, you’re contractually obligated to show up.”

“You really are a good guy, aren’t you?”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Maybe he was; maybe he wasn’t. He tried.

The resulting silence that spun out should’ve been awkward. So many encounters between them lately had been. But strangely, this one wasn’t.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft. “You’ve done such a good job with Clara, Sawyer. She really is the most remarkable person.”

He wasn’t sure he could speak. “Thanks,” he finally managed after the silence between them went on a beat too long. “I tried really hard.”

She cleared her throat. “You know what, Sawyer?”

“What?”

“You’re upgraded.”

“What?”

“We’re not not not-friends anymore.” She snorted. “Which is maybe the most ridiculous sentence I have ever uttered. But the point is you’re upgraded. We’re friends.”

“Friends,” he echoed, wondering why the word, which should have signified a victory, sounded clangy and out of tune when it came out of his mouth.

“Friends,” she said firmly. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Standing outside Sawyer’s room, Eve ordered herself to feel friendly things. Not tingly things. If it took her a few moments of standing there to get all the things unjumbled and properly sorted, so be it.

“Ahh!” She jumped when the door swung open. She wasn’t ready. The tingly things had not yet fully receded in favor of the friendly things.

And his raspy “Hey” was not helping matters.

Nor was the dimly lit room, or the fact that he was wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing else.