Page 52 of Love Story

“Stay,” he mumbled, his hand tugging weakly at mine as I tried to help him up.“I’ll sleep here next to you, just an hour.Message Harriet.Stay the whole night.Sleep in my bed.”

I smiled, grabbing my phone and typing a quick message to Harriet, letting her know I would be home late and that I was with Sam—I added a couple of exclamation marks, imagining her smile when she read it.I didn’t think he really meant I should stay overnight.Then I settled back against the couch, tucking myself under Sam’s chin.His arms wrapped around me, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my back as his breathing evened out again.

As he drifted off, his steady heartbeat against my ear, I found myself thinking that there was nowhere else I’d rather be, and as I closed my eyes, I let myself hope this would never end.

SAM SLEPT FORabout an hour, startling awake and knocking paperwork I’d been leafing through to the floor.

“My bad,” he said on a yawn and scooped them up for me.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good.”Sam stretched.“Coffee.Bathroom.”

I nodded as if he had just completed a sentence, then watched him stalk out to the kitchen, start the coffee, and vanish into the small bathroom.I observed him, his strides purposeful and his shoulders set.Something about his movements made me feel all kinds of hot and bothered.

Who was I kidding—everything about him made me hot and bothered.

My phone lit up with a message in the book club chat, which had been silent since I’d left Boston—they’d probably made a new one without me—and my stomach dropped.It was from Rachel, the only person in the book club who still occasionally reached out.Although that was starting to feel like walking on broken glass because she knew people who knew people and kept throwing dire warnings at me about the review I’d left on that damn book.

Rachel: Call me.

I ignored it.I left it sitting there, the notification glaring at me.Then I stared at it, the words looping in my head.Call me.Why?What now?I tried to shake it off, but the curiosity gnawed at me until I caved and messaged back.

Me: Why?

It didn’t take long for her to respond.

Rachel: Adam Nelson’s Publisher - press release tomorrow about the review you wrote and repercussions.

Repercussions.The word hit like a sucker punch.

Me: What does it say?

Rachel: I don’t know, but I wanted to give you a heads-up.

I couldn’t do anything.There was no way these repercussions would reach Caldwell Crossing—I’d left it all in Boston with the other mess.This was stupid—it was just a book review.Shit.Why had she told me?I didn’t want to know.

I put the phone down, the screen dimming as I stared at the wall.A press release.About my review.The scathing critique written in the heat of temper on a bad day, venting every ounce of anger and frustration on an author I admired, seemed like it happened a lifetime ago.

I didn’t know what to think.It was too far away to care about.Boston, the book review mess, all of that—it wasn’t part of my life anymore.Or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

The phone lit up again.This time, it was my lawyer.

Theo: Call me.We need to talk.

I stared at the notification, my jaw tightening.What now?I didn’t want to know.I didn’t want to hear any of it.With a sharp motion, I ignored the message, tossed the phone onto the couch, and then shoved it under a cushion as if that might silence the world trying to intrude on my fragile peace.

My chest felt tight, my jaw ached from clenching it too hard, and I was about done with everything.Why couldn’t everything in Boston leave me alone?Why couldn’t I have one damn day where the chaos of my past didn’t find a way to claw itself into my present?

But then, because I’m the most responsible freaking man on the planet, I called out to Sam that I was taking a call and went outside to phone Theo.

“You need to come back in a few days, Ben.There’s been a development,” he said without a hello.

Theo’s voice was calm but clipped, the kind of tone that set me on edge.

“Have you found the missing audits?”I asked, gripping the phone tighter.As I paced the tiny porch, my breath fogged in the chilly night air.I’d forgotten my damn coat again.

“Not exactly,” Theo replied, his words measured.

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