Page 85 of Not That Complicated

And a guilty side.

“See you tonight, babe,” Adam had said. He’d kissed me and strutted off back to the hotel, fully expecting to see me there.

And I’d bolted.

I hadn’t left him a note or given him a call. I hadn’t even texted him.

He hadn’t called or texted me, either. And why would he? We weren’t in a relationship.

Just because someone feeds you cake and calls youbabe, it doesn’t mean you’re dating.

Or because they take care of you. Snuggle you into bed. Save you from angry townsfolk.

Weweren’tin a relationship.

The moon shone hard and bright on my face. I sucked in a sharp breath.

Were we in a relationship?

No.

No, Ididhave a say in it, despite how pushy Adam was, and I hadn’t at any point agreed. We’d kissed. We’d slept in the same bed, once. It was hardly a commitment.

I gnawed on my lip.

He hadn’t contacted me.

Which meant...which meant we weren’t in a relationship.

Or it meant I’d been awful.

Oh, good lord. Had I ghosted him?

Had he ghosted me? No! There was no ghosting. We were not in a relationship. I’d know about it if we were.

Wouldn’t I?

This was getting me nowhere. I was thinking in circles. Before I could think better of it, I grabbed my phone off the bedside table and opened up our last text conversation.

Our only text conversation.

It was the picture of Adam, smouldering at the camera, with the words,For your spank bankbelow. He’d taken the photo in my kitchen at one a.m. I’d watched him do it. He’d been in unforgiving strip lighting, he’d come off a long shift, and he looked spectacular.

He must have made a fortune in his modelling days.

After staring at the picture for a disgracefully long time, I heaved a sigh and started typing.

> Hi, hope you’re well, I’m—

No. That was sad. I deleted it and stared at the ceiling some more.

> Hey. What’s up, I—

Nope. No. Delete. What’s up? Come on, Ray.

> Sorry I didn’t get to see you, work emergency—

Argh.

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