Page 137 of Your Place or Mine

Because ever since Lydia showed up in town, things had felt just a little bit more alive.

I hadn’t realized how heavy it all was—this place, my grief, the routine I kept clinging to like it owed me something—until she walked in and cracked it open like a window in a dusty room.

Now I couldn’t return to the stale air I’d been breathing.

And yeah, I’d kissed her. And yeah, I’d stayed the night. And yeah, I’d bolted like a dumbass before she even woke up.

But she made me feel like a man again for a few hours. Not a ghost of one. And when she came back into the bar and we held each other one last time, it told me we could do this.

Until I started thinking too hard.

I was still turning that over in my head when the door swung open and Drew strolled in like he owned the damn place.

Which, to be fair, he did emotionally. He just didn’t have to mop it every week and write the checks.

He was holding two coffees and a paper bag, which meant he was either feeling generous or about to drag me through a very pointed intervention.

He slid one across the bar toward me and perched on a stool like he had all day.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“For what?”

“For keeping your reputation from going full dumpster fire,” he said, peeling open the bag and tossing me a breakfast sandwich. “Melanie was about two seconds from forming a citizens’ tribunal.”

I groaned. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Honestly?” He grinned. “Yeah. Watching you flail is better than anything Netflix has dropped in months.”

I sipped my coffee and tried not to rise to the bait.

He didn’t stop. “So, what was the plan exactly? Sleep with her, disappear, and hope she thinks it was a weird dream?”

“I didn’t disappear.”

“You left before sunrise and haven’t replied to a single one of her texts since she saw you the second time here with…the sock.”

I stiffened. “You know too much.”

“Melanie is a jewel,” he said, lifting a brow like it should’ve been obvious. “She’s got eyes like a hawk and the moral compass of a very stylish avenger. You really thought you could pull a Houdini and no one would notice?”

I grunted and shoved a bite of egg sandwich into my mouth.

“Look,” Drew continued, “I’m not saying you have to write her sonnets or buy matching flannel pajamas or whatever. But maybe—just maybe—you don’t want to make her feel like crap the morning after.”

I gave him a look. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah? What was it like then, Cal?” His voice softened, teasing less now. “Because from where I’m standing, it looked a lot like two people who were tired of being lonely for five seconds.”

My shoulders tensed. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“No one does,” he said, leaning back and tossing a napkin onto the counter. “But let me tell you, womenloveit when you sleep with them and then ghost them. It’s a real highlight of the dating experience. Makes them feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

I gave him a flat look. “Thanks, Dr. Drew.”

Drew grinned. “I’m just saying, you’re not a mystery, man. You’re just scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

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