Page 17 of About Last Night

“OK.”

“Maybe we will see each other around.”

“We might.”

“Pretend we don’t know each other. Flirt a little.”

“Role-playing, huh?” Audrey’s eyes are dancing with mischief.

I shrug. “Could be fun.”

“Why do I suspect you’ve done this before?”

“The only difference this time is you would know I’m doing it.”

Audrey raises one eyebrow. It’s not much encouragement, but it’s enough for me to keep going.

“If you ever want to have a little fun, no pressure or strings, there’s a pub around the corner I go to from time to time. The Chicken Head.”

Audrey laughs. “What a name. What if you aren’t there?”

You could take my number, I think. But Audrey has set the boundary and the idea to exchange numbers, or even last names, needs to come from her.

“Well, that’s the chance you’ll just have to take, I guess.”

Audrey’s gaze moves to my lips, and I think she’s going to kiss me. Instead, she rises from bed and gets dressed. I put on my briefs and a tank and run my fingers through my hair for something, anything, to keep myself from begging her to stay. When she’s dressed, blazer on, hair pulled back into a ponytail again, she looks like a different woman.

“Well.”

“I’ll walk you out,” I offer.

We stand at the door, neither making a move to open it, but not looking at each other. I decide to be an adult, since I’m going to have to be one 24/7 starting Monday.

I take Audrey’s hand and meet her gaze. “I hope everything works out for you, Audrey. You’re amazing, and I’m not talking about the sex. Not just the sex, anyway. You’re an amazing person here”—I tap Audrey’s heart—“and here.” I tap her temple.

“You hardly know me.”

“The way you hardly know me?” I raise my eyebrows.

Audrey nods her head, and chuckles. “Yeah. OK.”

“Don’t let your ex worm her way back into your life. You deserve so much better. Take care of yourself. Good luck on Monday.” Audrey’s brows furrow. “Your new job?”

She smiles. “Right. Of course.” She crosses her fingers.

I open the door. Audrey leans forward and kisses me softly on the cheek. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“For what?” I say softly.

“Being you.” She caresses my cheek, and leaves.

CHAPTER SEVEN

AUDREY

I’m about to press my thumb to the lock to open the door to my and Willa’s new townhome when the door opens abruptly. Willa stands there, looking frantic and relieved. Her ash-blond hair is haphazardly piled on top of her head in a lazy bun and wispy layers of hair frame her face. The softness of her relief at seeing me doesn’t last long. She narrows her eyes and says, “Where the fuck have you been? It’s two thirty in the morning.”

I push through the door and close it behind us. “Didn’t you get my text?” I ask.

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