Dash snorts. “Hang on, I need to grab a pen from our waitress so I can write that down. Once I recite your words, everyone will understand why I had to break up with you.”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Loves Every Michael Bublé Song Known to Man.” I smirk.

“I don’t!” Dash immediately denies it.

“Oh yeah, your ‘most played’ playlist says otherwise,” I beam. “Not to mention that ‘after dark’ playlist. Al Green? Really?”

“It’s classic for a reason.” Dash replies with a grin. “And I don’t recall hearing any complaints the other night.”

“I was… Distracted,” I say, flushing at the memory of his mouth moving lower. “But seriously, we need a good reason for the breakup. One that doesn’t make me look like a cold-hearted bitch.”

“Or me like a frivolous playboy,” Dash says.

“Well, we have another six hours on the road, we should be able to come up with something.”

We finish up eating, and I duck into the restroom while Dash settles up the check. I catch sight of myself in the mirror as I rinse my hands, all flushed cheeks and breathless excitement, and smile. I don’t know what I expected, signing up to play fake girlfriend for a total stranger, but it definitely wasn’t this.

I laugh. Dash’s proposition seemed crazy when he made it, but if I hadn’t taken the chance on crazy, then I would have missed out on a whole lot of fun.

Fun… And maybe more?

I pause. We haven’t talked yet about what happens when we get back to New York. Right now, we’re still in this fun, sexy bubble, like the real world doesn’t exist, but soon enough—in another three hundred-plus miles—we’ll be back in the city.

If the assignment is officially over, does that mean this thing between us will be too?

I shake off the thought. Right now, the chemistry—and snack food—is too delicious to complicate, so I reapply my lipstick, give myself a wink in the mirror, and head back out into the diner—

To find Dash flirting with a girl by the front doors.

Well, it sure looks like they’re flirting. She’s tipped her head back, laughing prettily, while he does that sexy smirk of his, leaning against the wall.

I bite back the pang of jealousy and go join them.

“Callie,” Dash smiles at me, without an ounce of guilt on his face.

The kind of guilt you might feel if you’d just been busted flirting by the woman you have real feelings for.

“This is the craziest coincidence,” he continues. “Lauren here went to college with me, what, twenty years ago?”

“Don’t say that!” she protests, lightly punching his shoulder. “God, has it really been so long?”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he laughs. “Still got a mean right hook.”

“And you! I could recognize that cocky grin of yours anywhere. He was the Casanova of our dorm,” she adds, turning to me with a smile. “A new girl every week, we were lining up for him.”