Even though it was a quick call, Ash had spilled her own news. She and Davo were going on a date to talk everything through and see where they were at. Chloe hoped that one way or the other, Ash would get some sort of resolution. She loved Davo, but it hadn’t been a clean break, leaving Ash not only missing him but hopeful that they’d get back together. Chloe didn’t know if she’d be returning home to a reconciled couple or a miserable bestie, but either way, she’d be there for Ash—at least for the immediate future.

Her heart tugged at the thought of no longer living with Ash, but Chloe promised herself she’d make the most of the time leading up to her move to London. Besides, Jules would be making her big move soon. That would ease the sting a little, knowing that they had each other as Jules settled into her new life in Melbourne.

New life …

Chloe had always loved seeing in the New Year—all that promise, a clean slate. But if she’d been told a year ago what would be on her horizon this coming year, she would have written it off as nonsense. She’d been happy in her life before meeting Archer, or so she’d thought. She’d been content, she realised now, which was not a bad thing, but she’d been playing it safe, never doing anything that terrified her, or thrilled her, or that left her breathless.

Jules had been frank about her rut, but Chloe now realised that she’d been living in her own. Well, not anymore …

Archer leant in close. “I’ll give you a whole pound for those thoughts,” he said quietly.

“You don’t have to pay me one penny.” They shared a smile. “I was just thinking how excited I am about everything that’s coming up.” She lifted a hand to her mouth, stifling a yawn.

“You’re hiding it very well,” he teased.

“I’ve hit a wall,” she confessed.

“Are you going to make it? To the New Year?” he asked, his eyes alive with amusement.

Chloe glanced at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace. “I think I can make it another twelve minutes.”

“Well done, you. Taking one for the team.”

“Wait, isn’t that a baseball expression?” she asked, a crease forming between her brows.

“It is indeed. Left Field, remember? That film I did with Ron Howard about ten years ago.”

She looked at him blankly. “I really do need to get stuck into your back catalogue.”

He shook his head at her. “No, you absolutely do not. But if you do, at least let me tell you which ones to avoid.”

“So, you’ve made some crappy films, then?”

“Some absolute stonkers, yes.” He paused. “Do you know that I love you?”

“I do. And I love you right back,” she replied. “You know, other than the girls and my family, I’ve never said that to anyone before.”

“I did not know that, but that makes it all the more special.” He leant over and softly pressed his lips to hers. “I have said it before, but I know now that I didn’t mean it.”