“That was interesting,” Jackie said as she came up behind her.
Liana turned and shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The looks are back. So you guys had a fight for what, twelve hours?”
“It wasn’t a fight exactly.”
“What was it?”
She took a deep breath. “Regret, I think.”
“Ah. Well, I know all about that.”
Liana winced. “Still not talking to Andrew?”
“Not talking to you about it, either.”
“But you came over tome,” she laughed.
“Yeah. To talk about you and Dean. You weren’t clever enough to keep it a secret.”
“We thought we were.”
Jackie shrugged. “He’s good for you, though. Like in a not-secret way.”
“Oh, no. Regret, remember? He’s not like that.”
She was starting to think that very few men were the forever kind of guys.
Besides, she didn’t want one of those. She had a forever kind of career, and fantastic shoes. A really nice house with a big walk-in closet. She was good.
“Mm-hmm.” Jackie twisted around, facing Liana as Dean excused himself and headed their way. “Sure thing. Whatever. Anyway, I’m heading back to my room to text Andrew an invitation for angry sex. That’s your little gimme of sharing. In return, I expect you to talk things out with the super nice hottie who can’t stop looking at you. Deal? Good. Deal.”
And then she was gone, and he was in front of her.
“Hey.”
“I’m ready to head back to the hotel,” she said.
“Want to do a final spin around the room and say goodbye to anyone?”
Yes, yes she did. “You learn quickly.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.”
He trailed behind her as she made her goodbyes, and when they stepped outside, there was a car waiting for them. He held the door, waiting for her to get settled before he went around to the other side.
They didn’t talk on the way back to the hotel.
When they arrived, he followed her silently to her room. She didn’t open the door. He wasn’t getting an invite tonight.
He leaned his shoulder against the wall. Not going anywhere, but not expecting to come inside, either. Good. She crossed her arms in front of her body and he groaned.
“Hey,” he said, holding out his hand. A formal peace offering. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For overreacting.”
