“Wow,” she said, letting herself build up steam. “Just to quickly recap, you’ve assumed I want to marry you, and you wanted to let me down on that one. Now you’re telling me how I feel about sex. You don’t actually need me for this conversation, do you? What’s wrong with you? I mean that as a genuine question, because you’ve screwed this up from the second you opened your mouth. I suggest you take yourself home and figure out how to get your head out of your ass. I’m guessing when that happens, you’re going to feel like a first-class jerk, which is good, because you are one.”

She pointed to the stairs. “Get out.”

“Reggie, we have to talk.”

“No, we don’t. Get out. I mean it. Go.”

He nodded once and went up the stairs. She walked to the sofa and sat down. She had no idea what had just happened. Where had all that come from, and why had he felt the need to dump all over her?

She looked at Belle. “Never like a guy. I’m serious. They’re nothing but trouble.”

Anger churned inside her, along with just a hint of sadness. So much for him being like the guy she’d once known. If this was the real grown-up Toby, she wanted nothing to do with him.

“You’re being difficult for no reason,” Electra said, her full lips forming a pout.

Micah looked away from the computer screen, wishing he hadn’t agreed to the online call. He’d known what she wanted to talk about and had mistakenly thought he could change her mind.

“I’m not interested in going away with you,” he said flatly. “I’m not going to write with you, and I’m not coming back to LA.”

She flipped her long red hair over her shoulder. “Why are you being like this? You know we write well together. Why are you resisting the inevitable?”

“There is no inevitable. Electra, look at me. No. I’m saying no.”

Her green eyes narrowed slightly. “You need me, Micah. You’re not writing on your own. If you were, I would have heard. I can be your inspiration.”

“I doubt that.”

“You’re not even trying.”

“I’m going now,” he said, just as someone knocked on his door.

“Micah, wait. I have something to tell you.”

“Come in,” he called, not caring who was on the other side of the door. Any distraction was welcome.

He looked at the perfect face of his ex-wife. She was beautiful—he would give her that—but nothing about her appealed to him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were busy.”

The soft words had him spinning around to see Dena carefully backing out of his suite. He half rose, waving her forward.

“No. Don’t go. I’m finished here.”