Silent, Myla hits the down button, and as the doors close, I say, “Well, let us know how the tour is. Maybe we’ll go on it later.”

“I bet you will,” he says. “By the way, love seeing you two together.” His smirk becomes genuine. “Makes me happy.”

“We’re not together,” I tell him, hoping to redirect any assumptions Myla might have. I don’t want her thinking that I’ve told Banner we’re together because that will freak her out, no doubt.

“Together, as in not biting each other’s heads off, stealing batteries, or switching records around.”

Myla spins toward me. “I told you, you did it.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, and who else would have?”

In a sad impersonation of me, she replies, “The little fairies that keep taking the batteries.”

When the elevator doors part, Banner holds up his thumb and says, “Your Ryot impersonation is spot on.”

“Thank you.”

And then we part, Banner heading toward the front of the hotel while Myla and I head toward the back.

Curious as to what she thinks about Banner, I ask, “Do you feel weird when he goes out with other people? Or flirts or talks about them?”

“Why would that make me feel weird?” she asks as I push open a door for her. When she walks past me, her shoulder brushes my chest, and even though it’s a mistaken touch, it still excites me.

“Well, because of Nichole,” I answer.

“Oh . . . no, not at all. I know where Nichole stands. She doesn’t want a relationship. Never has and probably never will. Banner is just a boy toy she likes to have fun with on occasion. I could see him settling down at some point, but not Nichole. She will always be a free spirit.”

“You think Banner will settle?” I ask as we walk side by side on the paved path that leads to the pool. Well-manicured gardens flank either side of us while mature trees drape over the path together, forming a tunnel of greenery. It’s very romantic.

“I think the Bisley boys were born to settle. Banner might act like he’s not interested in anything serious, but you can see it in his eyes when he measures up a new partner. I think he’s always on the lookout, but no one has struck him the right way. He hasn’t met his match yet.”

“You said the Bisley boys. Do you think I was born to settle?”

We make it to the pool, which is empty, and I grab two towels while Myla looks around for a lounge that suits her.

“Were you born to settle? I don’t know, Ryot, what do you think? You spent years trying to get me to go out on a date with you. Pretty sure ‘settle’ is supposed to be your middle name.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, because the right girl struck me.”

She takes the towel from me and says, “The right girl at the moment.”

And I know the meaning behind that. Despite the easygoing conversation, there’s still an elephant in the room. We’re bound to be divorced once the papers are processed, and even though I think she’s the right girl for me—for life—it’s not forever. No one will be better. No one will match her.