They’d gotten away an hour later than she’d planned. It was her mother’s fault. She’d made breakfast for them—scrambled eggs and fried potatoes and crispy bacon—and had chatted away as if they were staying another day. Her mother really liked Nic, she could tell. It was going to be harder to break up with her than she thought. Of course, she’d probably go with her earlier plan—drag it out as long as she could.

Then there was the awkward goodbye hug that Holly gave her. A hug and a whisper into her ear—let’s get together sometime.

Good lord, would the woman ever give up? Thankfully, neither the words nor the hug made an impression on her. She could honestly say she was completely over Holly. It was probably clichéd to say, but what in the world had she ever seen in her? Had she been that lonely, that desperate for companionship that she’d convinced herself that she’d fallen in love with her? She nearly shuddered now, thinking what could have been. What if Holly hadn’t cheated on her with Aaron? What if Holly hadn’t broken up with her? Would they still be together? Would they be planning to build a big-ass house? Would they be making wedding plans?

She shuddered again. Surely to god she would have come to her senses. Yes, surely. Because even if she thought things were good with them, she knew now that they weren’t. Being with Nic told her that. She never knew she had such a passionate side to her until Nic. An unquenchable thirst that hadn’t been satisfied until the early morning hours. It had never been like that with Holly. Not even close.

She looked over at Nic again, her eyes lingering on her lips. Oh, she would miss her, wouldn’t she? And not just the sex. She enjoyed Nic’s company, enjoyed being around her. Maybe she should reconsider her plans. Maybe she should just come right out and ask Nic if they could remain friends and—

No, no, no. Fuck buddies. Nope. She wouldn’t do it. It wasn’t her, she reminded herself. Just let it go. They had fun. Now it was over with. Simple as that.

* * *

Nic absently watched the lights of the city as Abby drove them to her apartment. As they got closer and closer to Dallas, their conversation had all but ceased. They’d taken turns driving and sleeping, but by three o’clock, they’d both been slept out. At first, they talked of trivial things—their work, the weather—but never once mentioned the approaching separation. By the time they’d hit Decatur, they’d both become increasingly silent and when they hit the city limits, there was nothing more to say.