DING!

The elevator doors interrupt my silent spiral. “This is me!”

I lead Dash to my apartment, then pause on the threshold, awkward. “So…”

“So.” He echoes.

“Marlon Brando is going to give me a hard time,” I babble. “He hates it when I go away. Needs somebody around to insult or he gets lonely.”

Dash chuckles. “Good luck.”

There’s a long pause, and I’m about to blurt an invitation for him to stay, when he lets out a yawn. “Long day.”

“Yup.” I search his face, but don’t see any hint he’s angling for an invite, so I change tack. “I have an early shift at work tomorrow,” I exclaim brightly. “So I guess I’d better get to bed!”

Dash pauses. That little telltale crease forms over his nose, and for a breathless moment, I think he’s going to say something. Ask to come in. Sweep me into his arms and off my feet—and into bed.

Then the crease smooths. Dash takes a step back and gives me a friendly smile. “Good-night, Callie. And thanks again for the weekend. You were the best fake girlfriend a guy could ask for.”

Were.

Past tense.

I barely have time to process the word, before he turns and saunters back down the hall.

“Who’s a stupid girl?” Brando squarks, as I open the door. “Stupid! Stupid!”

I close it with a sigh. “Yup. That’s me. stupid.”

15

Dash

I wake the morning after I arrive back in the city and reach for Callie automatically, but the space beside me is empty.

I open my eyes and reality comes rushing back. I’m in my own bed, in my own apartment. Alone. Since sticking around for cuddling was never my specialty in the past, none of this should feel weird. Yet somehow, over the course of a few days, I’ve gotten used to waking up with Callie’s warm body lying next to me, her hair spilling over the pillow.

Her curves pressed up against me, just right.

No, it’s more than just being used to her. I’ve actually enjoyed waking up with her nestled in my arms. It shouldn’t be possible to miss someone or something after such a short time, but I do. Her scent, those delicate little snores. The sleepy smile she greeted me with before things would turn heated.

I roll over and grab my phone of the nightstand, hoping that maybe she texted.

Nothing.

My fingers hover over her name, tempted to call, before I toss the phone onto the bed.

Don’t make a fool of yourself, Dash.

I get up instead, and head to take a shower—even though morning showers won’t ever be the same after the downright-illegal things Callie did the last time I was under the spray.

I sigh. I have no idea where her head’s at right now. After an amazing trip together, everything seemed to hit a wall when I walked her to her door last night. I thought for sure she’d invite me in to stay, but nope.