“I’m sorry, Kenz. There was an issue at work with one of my clients and I got caught on the phone with them for, like, an hour, then I had to sort something out immediately. I lost track of time.”

I will not like the fact that he’s shortened my name into a nickname of sorts. I will not. So rather than swoon over it, I narrow my eyes. “I texted you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pushes his hands through his hair. “I had it on silent because I was in a meeting earlier with some of the partners and I forgot to switch it back.”

I mean, that makes sense. But still, I feel like an idiot. I thought… oh, it doesn’t matter what I thought. “Still… you totally forgot about our plans. How am I not going to be upset about it?”

Part of me feels as if maybe I’m putting some of my own baggage onto Andrew and overreacting, but any way you cut it, standing me up was rude and disrespectful.

He steps up and squeezes my shoulders with both hands. “You deserve to be upset. I can’t apologize enough.”

I stare up at him and I can see his sincerity. Some of the ire leaves my body. At least he feels bad. Unlike my parents, when they forgot about me time and time again when I was younger. They’d always act as though I was overreacting and brush it off. Andrew is taking responsibility and apologizing for his actions.

“It’s fine. Just don’t do it again.”

“You have my word.” He holds his right hand up in the Boy Scout salute.

I can’t help but chuckle. “Do they even have Boy Scouts in England?”

He shrugs. “We have Scouts. You Americans always think you have everything.” He lets his other hand drop from my shoulder. “Do you forgive me?”

My shoulders slump. “Well, put it this way… my birthday is next month, and I’ll be lucky if either of my parents even remembers to send me a text about it. So, your error wasn’t as egregious as theirs.”

He cocks his head to the side. “When is your birthday?”

“On the tenth.” I wave it off. “That’s not the point. My point is that I know I had a right to be upset, but I may have taken some of my own shit out on you. For that, I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe you.”

My forehead wrinkles. “What?”

“I’m in the wrong, but somehow you find a reason to apologize to me.” He steps closer to me and cups my face.

All the air leaves my lungs in one giant whoosh, because the feel of his palm on my cheek sends tingles straight down my throat to my abdomen and between my thighs.