Page 80 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

I climbed out of bed and pulled on his discarded T-shirt. “Morning. Have you slept?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m just catching up. It’s not important.”

That felt like a lie, but he pulled me onto his lap and kissed the side of my neck so I let myself believe it. “I didn’t realize you were behind on work.”

“I’ve been a little distracted,” he said, patting my butt. His expression turned playful but there was a worry line on his forehead. “I had some stuff come in last night that I can’t ignore.”

“I didn’t mean to keep you from your work.” I’d learned from my father, and then from Sean, what a cardinal sin it was to interfere with business.

“You didn’t,” he said. “I mean, it was my choice.”

I studied his face. I supposed I understood ignoring the real world. Wasn’t that exactly what I was doing? Yesterday, I dropped a bomb on Meri, then left her on “read” and shut my phone off. I hadn’t seen Nick pick his up once since we got off the train. He didn’t even bring it with him to the bar last night.

We’d been gone for days. He was bound to have to work.

I stood and walked to the coffee maker on stiff legs, feeling the memory of last night in my muscles, the most delicious soreness. I didn’t think I’d ever had that much sex in one night.

Nick noticed, giving one of his cocky smiles. “You’re walking funny, Brit.”

“You’re incorrigible.” I tossed him a flirty grin. “But you’ve earned it. Should I go downstairs and book another night?”

His face fell, his lips parting in surprise, then he ran his hand over his eyes. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” He winced and my heart crawled up into my throat. “I actually need to get home.”

“Oh.”

“Something came up that I have to deal with. With work. My dad—”

I glanced at his phone clutched in his fingers. “Just now?”

“Last night.”

My first inclination was to assume it was an excuse, but this was Nick. Sturdy, honest Nick. I didn’t truly believe he’d lie to me.

Still. He’d said . . .

He reached an arm out and I went to him, letting him pull me between his legs. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my stomach. “Brit, I really am sorry.”

Something twisted inside my chest. A sinking feeling mixed with a little panic as I searched his apologetic eyes for something more. Other women weren’t like this, I knew. But other women didn’t have experience lodged in their ribs like shrapnel. The memory of broken promises that eventually turned into crying over your dinner alone with your fiancé sleeping somewhere else and not bothering to call.

But that wasn’t what this was. I was being paranoid. Codependent. Nick didn’t look disinterested. He truly looked sorry.

Just because I’d lost any reason to go home, didn’t mean Nick could hide out here too.

“It’s fine,” I said, forcing my face to smile. “At least I’m saved from your terrible music, right?”

He frowned. “Right.”

He let me go and went back to his phone while I pulled on some clothes and packed my things. I thought about Meri’s bubble-bath hour, and how since Nick and I started sleeping together we’d barely been out of each other’s personal space, but shouldn’t there have been a lead up to the bubble-bath hour? Shouldn’t it have taken longer to need a break?

I definitely didn’t need a break yet, but ifhedid, I could give him that. “Nick?”

He popped his head up from his screen and the light in his eyes made me swoon.

“I think I’ll go down to the front desk and check on the status of the buses.”

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