We reach the entrance hall, and I make a quick scope of the space, hearing people in the bar. “Wait here,” I say, but quickly rethink my plan. “Actually, go get in the car.” I guide her to the door. “It’s open.” I leave her and rush to my office, bursting in and snatching my keys off my desk. I exit sharpish, jogging back through The Manor, but slow down when I reach the summer room, looking at Ava’s bag in my grasp. I smile and pull out her phone, changing the ring tone before replacing it and picking up my pace, nearly taking Sarah off her heels when she appears from the bar, colliding with my charging form.

“Shit!” she yelps, and I grab her before she falls flat on her face and bursts her lips. She gathers herself, looking dazed. “Are we burning down?” she asks, following me to the door, laughing.

“Sorry.” I stop at the top of the steps, seeing Ava by my car. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, sweetie.” Sarah joins me and leans in, kissing my cheek. “See you later.”

I break away and make my way to Ava, handing over her bag and opening the door.

“Hope to see you again, Ava.” Sarah calls. I look over my shoulder. Her smile is dazzling, and I cock her a questioning look. She rolls her eyes and heads back inside. Yes, too much.

But I can’t moan. She seems to be taking it on the chin, and I know this drastic change in the dynamics of our relationship will be hard for her. She’s not wrong. It has been the three of us for a long time.

I round my car and slip in beside Ava, starting the engine and reaching for her leg, giving it a gentle squeeze, silently getting her attention. She seems . . . distant. “Okay?”

She offers a small smile that goes nowhere near her eyes, resting her hand on mine and returning my squeeze. “Yes. Just thinking of all the things I need to prep for my week.”

So she has a busy week at work. I inwardly pout. Does that mean we won’t get to spend any time with each other? I’m desperate to ask, just so I have all my ducks in a row—and so I can prepare myself for how long it’ll be before I can see her again. Don’t crowd her. I can already feel my mood dipping.

It’s uncomfortably quiet on the way to her place. My thoughts chase around in circles, conjuring up reason after reason to keep her for the night. There’s none except, of course, that I simply don’t want to spend the night without her. Just tell her that.