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This message only added to Phoebe’s unease. Such a sweet guy. That did not sound like a woman who was being ravished the way Sam had hinted. Poor Sam. This was what always happened to him: He got carried away with his feelings, only to be brushed off as a nice guy. Women didn’t tend to stick around to get to know the deeper Sam, the Sam behind the lame jokes and self-esteem issues. Phoebe felt her heart sink. Shoot.

But before she could think about what to say in response, Jonathan replied.

Jonathan: You were nice to him. It would have been cruel to give him false hope. You set the record straight so he could move on. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Jonathan: And of course we’ll always be friends. You don’t have to try.

Phoebe wanted to tell him that this wasn’t true. They hadn’t picked up their friendship right where they’d left off, as though no time had passed. There was something between them, and Phoebe knew it was the lingering hurt and awkwardness.

Phoebe typed back, tentatively, And it was good that we both moved on, right? It led us to where we were meant to be?

As soon as she sent it, she realized that she was an idiot. They were both single. How was that “where they were meant to be”?

Jonathan: I still don’t know where I’m meant to be. But I’m glad that we’re starting something new together. It feels like a fresh start.

Phoebe smiled at her phone. It felt exactly like a fresh start. Her gut checked as she reread his words. He wasn’t insinuating anything more, was he? He was just talking about their project?

Of course that was what he was talking about. Phoebe had to stop reading into everything between them; otherwise, she would never make it. She had to take his words at face value. She had to focus on the business.

Phoebe: I feel the same way. By the way, I need to give you your pajamas back. Library tomorrow morning?

Jonathan: Keep them. And sounds good, I’ll see you there.

Chapter 20

Arden

The problem with spending a night and a day having amazing sex with a guy like Sam was that Arden could barely remember the conclusion she had come to. She tried to remind herself of it now as she watched Sam pull on his shirt, then his sweater. She hadn’t wanted to get hurt. She knew she would be going home in a few short days. There was no point in continuing this… fling.

She cringed internally at the word. It sounded so flimsy. So temporary. But this was temporary. Arden just wasn’t used to having flings. Actually, she’d never had one. That explained it. Probably everyone who had a fling felt butterflies when the other person looked at them. Felt a magnetic tug, like she wanted to be touching him every moment they were together. And surely, it was normal to be unable to stop thinking of the other person when they were apart. Whenever Arden closed her eyes, she felt like her brain was a camera, mentally scanning through Sam’s features to preserve the image forever in her mind.

Surely, that was normal fling behavior.

“You all right over there?” Sam looked up from pulling on his socks.

“Yep.” Arden was still naked under the covers. She didn’t feel like getting out now that Sam was fully dressed.

“I know you’re probably sick of me by now, but are you sure you don’t want to come to my brother’s house for dinner?”

“I’m definitely not sick of you, Sam.” Oh, if only that were less true. “But I think I need some alone time. I’m going to order from this amazing Thai place again and look up Nutcracker tickets.”

Sam looked as though he wanted to say something but then nodded and said, “Sounds like a great evening.”

Arden wondered if he had been about to suggest going to see The Nutcracker together. A part of her would have jumped at the idea, but The Nutcracker was her thing. The whole point of her list was to make peace with doing things on her own.

Because pretty soon she was going to be alone. Again. As always.

Sam knelt down beside the bed and gave her a lingering kiss goodbye. Arden was the one to pull away after several long moments. She hoped he didn’t think she was sick of kissing him—the truth was, if she kissed him for a moment longer, she wouldn’t have the resolve to say goodbye. She would find herself agreeing to join him at his brother’s house and inviting him to The Nutcracker.

“Tell your family hi for me,” she said. She couldn’t help the hand that reached out to cup the side of his face. He was just so sweet. It was like he didn’t have a jaded bone in his body. She wanted to drink in the dreamy smile that dimpled his left cheek and crinkled the skin around his blue eyes. His unapologetic eye contact had slightly unnerved her at first, but now it felt like a beam of approval. Like he really saw her and really liked what he saw.

“I will tell them,” Sam said, turning his face to kiss her palm. “I think they’ve gotten used to having you around.”

“Well…” Arden pulled the covers up to her neck.

“Yeah, I know.” Sam’s grin faltered. Arden knew they were both thinking about the fact that she was leaving in a few days. A part of her wanted to toss out some casual comment, like This has been a great way to stay warm in this weather!—something to highlight the fact that she knew this was temporary—but she couldn’t bring herself to.

“Anyway,” Arden said, “see you, Sam.”