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“What does it mean?”

Jonathan peered at the upper half of his other arm, scooting his sleeve up to expose the tattoo that was near his shoulder.

It did not escape Phoebe’s notice that he had failed to tell her the meaning behind his first tattoo.

“Wow.” She admired the majestic face of a—dog? Wolf?—that covered his shoulder. It looked like a creature out of a fairy tale, in shades of black and gray but with ice-blue eyes, half of its face curling into wisps of smoke.

“Is it a wolf?”

“It’s a husky. It was my Patronus. I know Harry Potter isn’t cool anymore, but you know what it meant to me back then. And I liked the idea of my soul animal being this strong, beautiful creature who could survive in the winter woods. It made me feel powerful. Now I just tell people I got a husky for our college mascot.”

Phoebe traced the dog’s face with one finger. Jonathan turned his head slightly to watch her hand caress his skin.

“Would you ever get a husky as a pet?” Phoebe asked.

“Are you kidding? They need to run, like, ten miles a day.”

“I thought you were into exercise now.”

“CrossFit is indoors. You know I’ve always been an indoor cat.”

Phoebe laughed. “Yeah, I can see why you like to have this reminder of your alter ego.”

Jonathan put his sleeve down. Phoebe’s hand itched to land on another part of his body—his hand, his knee—but she reached for her cocktail glass instead.

“Do you have any others?”

“Not anywhere I can show you right now.” Jonathan watched her over the rim of his glass. Phoebe almost choked on her vodka soda.

She felt, dimly, that they should rejoin his friends’ conversation, to not be rude. But all she wanted to do was lean closer to Jonathan, drink in his fresh, soapy scent, keep talking until they got somewhere real.

She reached for his hand. But her fingers curled back as she tuned in to something Becca was saying.

“And Arden is out of town, too. I hope this doesn’t become a thing. More and more people not sticking around for the holidays? Then there would just be me and Tom left. No offense, Tom.”

Phoebe chuckled to herself at the coincidence. Arden did live around here, but there was more than one Arden in the world. She tossed back the rest of her drink.

“Where did Arden go? Costa Rica?” another friend asked.

“She went to Seattle.” Becca shook her head. “So random.”

“Um, wait.” Phoebe leaned in to get everyone’s attention. “Are you talking about Arden Torres?”

“Yeah, why?” Becca looked surprised. “Do you know her?”

Chapter 22

Arden

Arden was curled on Phoebe’s couch, phone abandoned on the coffee table, her planner open to her list.

She had a few more Seattle-specific items to check off before she flew home in three days. But right now, she didn’t know if she would have the strength.

How had the Chihuly museum gone so wrong? By the end of their date, Arden had fully retreated into herself. Logically, she knew that she could have asked Sam why he hadn’t introduced her to his coworkers. But that wasn’t the kind of conversation she felt she could have with a guy she’d known for only a few days.

She wished the date had never happened.

But then where would she be? She would still have to say goodbye to Sam soon. Wasn’t it easier this way? To have a real reason for it to be over?