Ben and I wake up early to order room service before he has to head to the airport to catch a flight to L.A. The Mexican breakfast of migas con huevos I order is life changing. I don’t know what they’re sprinkling in the food at the Four Seasons, but I will definitely be coming back here to visit Ben often. I could get used to this lifestyle.

After breakfast, Ben and I take a shower and go for round seven or eleven or eighty-two. I don’t know what we’re up to. I lost count last night. Then, I blow-dry my hair quickly and dress in a fresh pair of cutoff jean shorts, peasant top, and white Chucks.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head for the door. “I’m off,” I declare.

Ben laughs as he grabs the keys to the apartment he rented for me out of the nightstand. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not letting you walk down alone. And don’t forget your keys.”

I smile as he stuffs the keys into the front pocket of my shorts. “Thanks, but I think I can make it down to the lobby by myself.”

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t asking permission to walk you down.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, so now you’re not asking permission. You’re just telling me what to do?”

“No, I’m not telling you what to do. I’m telling you what I’m going to do. There’s a distinction,” he says, hooking his arm around my waist and pulling me close. “Like right now, I’m telling you that when I get back from L.A., I’m going to take you and my dad for a day trip.”

“A day trip? Is your dad strong enough for that?” I ask, my voice breaking on the word “strong.” “Why do you always ?”

Ben doesn’t answer my question. He just looks into my eyes for a while, a soft smile forming as he brushes my hair behind my ear. “You have the most beautiful heart of anyone I’ve ever known. The way you care about my dad is breathtaking. Thank you for being there for him when I wasn’t.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek against his shoulder. He folds his arms around me and we stand like this for a while. I don’t know if Ben is getting his “me time” or if it’s the other way around. Either way, it feels good just to be with him like this.

Reluctantly, I let go and step back. “We have to get going or you’ll miss your flight.”

His eyebrows scrunch together, almost as if he’s in physical pain. I recognize this expression. It’s the same one he wore almost every time we were together in the last few months before the breakup. Just seeing it for that split second makes my stomach vault.

“Let’s go,” he declares, nodding toward the door.

When we’re out in the corridor, I feel like I need to do something to lighten the mood. I don’t want to let Ben leave for L.A., leaving his father behind, with such a heavy heart.

I stop in the middle of the corridor and gasp. “I think I forgot my cell on the bathroom counter.”

“I’ll get it,” Ben replies automatically, turning around to head back to the room.

“Psych!” I squeal, then I race down the corridor.

I turn right into the elevator vestibule and laugh with glee when I see a man exiting the elevator on the left. I rush in, apologizing for accidentally bumping his shoulder. I’m spamming the “close door” button on the elevator control panel, when the button falls off, revealing a flat steel surface underneath.

The button was never actually connected to the control panel.

“Ah-ha! I caught you!” Ben says as he rushes into the cabin before the doors slide shut.

I look back and forth between the control panel and the plastic button on the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asks.

I shake my head. “It was all a lie. It was always a lie.”

His eyes widen. “What are you talking about?”

“Look!” I say, pointing at the button on the floor. “It was never real.”

He stares at the thin piece of plastic with the two black arrows pointing at each other for a moment, trying to understand what he’s looking at. Then, he glances at the empty space on the control panel and gasps. “This is one of my top ten betrayals.”

“I’m going to write a very strongly-worded letter to hotel management,” I reply, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

“Fuck that noise,” Ben says, shaking his head. “I’m writing an entire album about this. I think I’m having an existential crisis.”

I roll my eyes. “Too far.”

He laughs as he grabs my face, pressing his body into mine as he kisses me hard. My breath is caught in my lungs as his tongue pushes into my mouth. It’s a deep, drugging kiss. Like a shot of whiskey injected straight into my heart. Totally inappropriate for an elevator, but totally appropriate for Ben. I begin to feel him hardening against my stomach as the elevator slows down near the fourth floor.

I press my lips together to keep from laughing as he lets go of my face and spins away before the doors slide open. An elderly couple enter the cabin and the woman’s eyes widen when she sees Ben adjusting the crotch of his jeans.

Ben grabs my shoulders and positions me in front of him. “Good morning,” he says to the woman, who responds with a weak smile.

I close my eyes and bite my lip to keep from laughing as his boner prods my ass. When we reach the lobby and the doors slide open, Ben and I wait for the couple to exit ahead of us.

When they’re out of sight, I turn around to face him. “Dude, get rid of that thing.”

He looks around as he adjusts the fabric around his crotch until his erection subsides. “This is your fault. You’re a temptress.”

“So, write a song about it. Don’t go around traumatizing old people,” I say, heading toward the exit.

He grabs my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “What are your plans for the day? Are you gonna go see the apartment?”

“Well, Plan A is to get some Plan B. Then, I don’t know. Is there a surprise waiting for me at the apartment?”

Without answering my question, he points at something to his right and growls through gritted teeth, “Back the fuck off.”

I look in the direction he’s pointing and, sure enough, behind a six-foot-tall potted plant is the neckbeard with the camera. Ben’s paparazzi-radar never fails. The guy flips me the finger for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. I stick my tongue out at him as Ben pushes the revolving door for us to exit the lobby.

“Fucking scum of the earth,” Ben grumbles as he walks me to the curb. “Anyway, the answer to your question is no. There are no surprises waiting for you at the apartment. No more surprises until I get back.”

The cool morning wind sweeping through the breezeway gives me chills. “Call me when you land?”

“Of course,” he replies, squeezing my hand as he leans over to kiss my temple. “Here comes Tyrell,” he says, pointing at an SUV that appears to be identical to the one Ponti has been driving around. “He’ll drive you to the drugstore, then he’ll take you home or to the apartment. Text me when you get there. I have WIFI on the plane.”

The parking attendant standing behind the valet podium races over to open the passenger door for me. “Have a wonderful day, miss.”

Ben looks a bit peeved that he didn’t get to open the door for me. “I love you,” he says, waiting for me to climb inside, then planting a kiss on my cheek as he pats my belly. “Now go kill some potential babies.”

I shake my head. “Not funny.”

He laughs as he shuts the door and watches us drive away. Tyrell appears tense and not up for conversation as I give him the directions to the nearest CVS drugstore. Once I’m back in the SUV with my box of Plan B and a bottle of water, I decide to offer Tyrell a chance to open up.

“Where’s Holder?” I ask.

Tyrell glances at me and I’m taken by the color of his eyes. I hadn’t noticed they were hazel when we had lunch last week.

“He’s going to L.A. with Ponti and your man,” he replies. “Are we going to your apartment or back to Bodega Bay?”

“Did Ben leave you behind to be my chauffeur?”

The muscle in his jaw clenches before he replies. “Nah, I just didn’t feel like going. Not exactly in the mood to be around a bunch of hypocrites.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

He glances at me and shakes his head. “Sorry. I’m not talking about Ben or you. I’m just… Nothing. It’s not important.”

I swallow my apprehension and decide to let it go. “Yeah, you can take me to Bodega Bay. I don’t feel like seeing the apartment right now. I’ll see it later when I drive back to visit Frank.”

“It’s a badass loft. You should really take him up on it,” Tyrell says, suddenly appearing more relaxed. “He did it because he cares and he wants to keep you close. Not because he’s trying to control you.”

I draw in a deep breath and nod as I let it out slowly. “Thanks. That…means a lot, actually.”

The right side of his face pulls up in a handsome half smile as he nods in agreement. We chat about life, music, and Allie on the forty-minute drive to Bodega Bay. He wants to know if there’s anything he can surprise her with that will score him points. I tell him her shameful secret love for the song “Happy Birthday, Sweet Sixteen” by Neil Sedaka, because her grandfather sang it to her on her sixteenth birthday. Her grandfather passed away six years ago.

Tyrell reciprocates with a bit of shocking advice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but… I think — and I know this is gonna sound crazy as shit — but I think you two should get engaged before Frank dies.”

I almost double over with laughter at this comment. But when Tyrell doesn’t join in, I realize he’s being serious. “You’re not joking, are you? You’re… You’re really suggesting that Ben and I get married?”

He shrugs. “Not married. Just engaged,” he clarifies. “And just until after Frank passes. Then, you can call it off, or whatever.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Look, I don’t know you or Frank that well. I started working with Ben after you two broke up. But Ben’s my best friend. He told me a lot of stories about you and his dad…stuff that makes me think Frank would die in peace if he knew you were always going to be there to keep Ben in line. And I gotta say… I haven’t seen Ben take a single sip of alcohol since y’all went to that wedding. That’s some fucking amazing shit right there.” He presses his lips together in a thin line as he appears to be thinking hard. “You know what? Just forget what I said. I’m just talking outta my ass.”

I nod as I slowly turn my attention back to the beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean on my right. We’re silent the rest of the way to my parents’ house. When Tyrell pulls into the driveway, I pause for a moment before I reach for the backpack and plastic CVS bag at my feet.

“Thanks for the ride. You…gave me some stuff to think about,” I say, reaching over to give him a one-armed hug. “Drive safe.”

As I head inside and straight to my office to transfer the pictures from the memory card in my camera to my computer, I pause to look around the office for a moment. There are no clotheslines with pictures hanging, the way I always imagined my photography studio would look like when I was younger. I don’t have a room I can use as a dark room here.

I guess the least I can do is take a look at the loft in the city. If there’s a room I can use for processing, I’d be an idiot not to consider staying there for the next few weeks. I can bone up my manual mode skills again, something that’s fallen by the wayside since I no longer have access to the dark rooms at Sonoma State.

I set down my backpack on my desk and head for the garage to get a couple empty boxes. Ben said the apartment is furnished, so I only need to take a few important things. Then, I’ll head over to the apartment and to visit Frank. Maybe without Ben around, Hunter might also agree to meet for lunch or dinner.

I stop as I place my hand on the doorknob leading into the garage. Tears come to my eyes as I realize Ben’s idea to get me an apartment solves so many of my problems. It shows a level of foresight and maturity I wouldn’t expect from the Ben who broke my heart. Maybe he’s telling the truth when he says he never stopped loving me.