Since she left, I’ve texted her a few times. When I received no response, I expected to see her at Georgia’s party. That didn’t work out, just like my plan to talk to her tonight. Cassidy has never opted out of our get-togethers, and now, she’s calling off work. My stomach unsettles, and I’m tempted to pour myself a shot to soothe my anxiety.

I fish my phone from my pocket and text her.

Me: You okay?

She replies minutes later.

Cassidy: Yes. I have a migraine and want to rest.

Me: You want me to bring you something when I get off?

The temptation to ask if she needs company hits me. I’ve picked up countless shifts for people, and someone could return the favor.

Cassidy: Thanks, but I’m fine.

Disappointment shatters through me. I want to be that guy for her, the one she calls when she has a migraine, who she calls when she’s bored, whose name she moans when I’m inside her.

That damn guy.

I want to be everything for her.

Even though I shouldn’t.

Unease drives through my blood as I text her back.

Me: Let me know if you change your mind.

Another text comes through, and that disappointment from earlier soars because it’s not Cassidy.

Isla: Can we talk?

I clench my hand around my phone. Just seeing her name gives me the urge to throw it.

Me: Nope. Go talk to your husband.

Getting wrapped up in Isla was a mistake. Just like all the other women before her. She was crazy, but her husband? Dude was even fucking crazier when he found out we were sleeping together. I was young and dumb. Still, after it ended, I realized that wasn’t an excuse for sleeping with a married woman. In my defense, she told me they were separated and in the process of a divorce.

Turned out, that was a lie.

With a curse, I block her number.

The rest of the night, my mind is on Cassidy.

I check my phone periodically, hoping she changed her mind.

Hoping she reached out.

Said something.

But it doesn’t happen.

Archer glances up when I knock on his open office door. Setting his pen down, he stares at me in expectation as I stand in the doorway.

I rest my shoulder against the doorframe. “Did Cassidy give a reason she called off tonight?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she talked to Cohen.”

Cohen is on baby leave, and I’d feel horrible for waking him. As bad as I’m trying to fight it off, all night, there’s been a heaviness in my stomach that something is wrong with Cassidy. When she read whatever was on her phone, that light she carries around like a fucking pet dimmed.