It wasn’t often that Lillian slept in a comatose state, but this was one of the rare times that she slept so hard she had to wake up to rest. Usually she was brought out of sleep easily. So when her eyes opened, a groan crumbled out from her dry throat and she saw that Cayden wasn’t there. She was more shocked than anything that she’d slept through his getting up.

As she slowly regained consciousness, she heard him in the shower. Phew, he’s not gone. Of course he wasn’t gone; he would never have left without saying goodbye or waking her up or something. He couldn’t just leave; that wasn’t him.

The room was warm on one side from the hot shower and cold on the other from the air conditioning. She coughed, and rubbed her eyes encrusted with sleep. Delirious, she flopped over and weakly reached for her glass of water, draining it all at once. As she set it back down, she heard him step out of the shower. A seriously pleasing image of his body—the whole thing—crept its way before her eyes. She smiled, lowering herself down to sprawl on the bed.

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

She looked up at him through sleepy, droopy eyelids, and at the sight she was a hundred percent more awake. His abs. Hot damn, his abs. Even after all they had been through together, she still felt like a self-conscious, puppy-love-giddy teenager when she looked at him. Does he notice I’m looking? Does my face look too embarrassed? Am I blushing? He must know I’m staring. He’s not that aloof.

She was slightly horrified when he noticed that she was dazing off with her eyes stuck on his torso. “You all right?” he asked with a mischievous smile, taking a hand towel from the bathroom counter and rubbing it through his hair. Little sprinkles of water flew out, catching the warm light of the bathroom behind him. Steam drifted to the ceiling, curling around his shoulders.

Shit, collect yourself, Lillian! She ripped her eyes away from his muscles, but found them on the next best place: the towel around his waist. More specifically, the part where he tucked the end in to keep it from falling down.

I would undo that part in a heartbeat if I were bolder, she thought, and didn’t feel a bit of shame about it. There was nothing about this guy that didn’t make her melt. She was hopeless.

You always said I was hopeless, she sent out to Amelia, wherever she was. I bet you’re laughing now. I find a guy who’s irritatingly aware of his good looks but also soft and cushy on the inside. Dammit, I’ve just got to keep him.

In her mind, she saw Amelia with that annoying “I told you so” smirk on her face.

“Hey,” Cayden said again, following her gaze to his towel and putting his hand there. The cheeky glint in his eyes was almost blinding. “Where are you?”

“Here,” she replied too quickly. “Uh, sorry.”

Cayden smiled that little lopsided smile of his, the one that meant he had caught her doing something he knew she would be embarrassed about. He also knew full well that that smile drove her wild.

“Don’t do that,” she commanded him, but it was too late. She felt that familiar quiver inside her body. She wanted him, and fast.

“Why not?” He did it again.

“You know you’re not supposed to smile like that.”

“Why not?” He bent at the waist, so his face was at her level, and inched closer.

“Oh, my gosh. Stop it.” She felt pale. Her heart was pounding alarmingly fast.

“Stop what?” he murmured, now in her personal space. His fresh-shower-smell made a thick cloud around them.

Taking a deep breath without realizing it, she looked straight in his eyes. Not to make eye contact with him, but to examine his eyes. She hadn’t been this close to him willingly—and sober, at that—in what seemed like years. It had actually been months, when she thought about it. She had forgotten how clear and how vividly blue his eyes were, nestled there in the chiseled features of his face.

“Damn, you’re beautiful.” Snapped out of her trance, her hands flew to her mouth. “It was supposed to be a thought!”

“Huh?” He drew back just a tad.

“Nothing.” Dammit, Lillian, the “nothing” trick never works. Don’t pull that one.

“Tell me.” He grinned.

“No!” she barked.

“Come on, tell me.”

“No way.”

“Okay, then.” He stuck out his lower lip. “I already know, anyway.”

She froze. “What?”

“I know what you said.”

“What did I say?”

“I’m not telling.” He stood up and turned, crossing his arms and pretending to look at the wall.

“You don’t really know.” This childish banter was officially too much.

“I do, too.”

“Don’t be a baby and tell me!.” She realized the pout on her own face was just as immature as the whole situation.

Suddenly Cayden swooped down into her face again. “You called me beautiful.”

Her jaw dropped. “I did not.”

“Did, too.”

She couldn’t contain herself any more. “It’s not a feminine word! It just means something is—”

Cayden held a finger to her lips. “You don’t have to defend yourself. I mean, I consider it a compliment.” Standing up straight again, he took a few steps toward the bathroom with a ladylike swing of his hips.

Lillian just groaned and pulled the blanket over her head, curling up into a ball.

“Hey,” she heard him call, his voice muffled through the thick comforter. A weight pressed on the bed next to her. “Where are you?”

“I’m hiding,” she replied.

“Do you know where my phone is? I need to call my mother and tell her what a good job she did giving me these eyeballs.”

“Cayden!” Lillian shrieked, more humiliated than ever. She burst out of the blanket and pulled him onto the mattress, flattening him with a pillow on his chest. “Stop embarrassing me!”

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one letting yourself feel embarrassed,” he argued jokingly, shaking one finger at her, but she smacked his hand and he finally lay still.

“I’m only—” she started, but noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Like time had frozen for a couple of seconds, she slowly turned her head and skimmed her eyes down Cayden’s toned body until they reached the part where his towel used to be fastened. His skin that was covered only moments ago was now entirely exposed, except for the corner of the towel covering half of his thigh.

“Uh...” she tried again, seeing the unreadable expression on his face. “Your, um...”

He looked both pleased and equally embarrassed, but the smirk that surfaced made it clear which feeling he decided to run with. “Oops, it slipped.”

“Do you want to fix it?” she asked slowly, trying to channel her adrenaline into something sexy rather than anxious.

“I don’t really feel like it,” he answered in a deep voice that sent chills down her arms, “but you can if you want.”

In her head she did a little victory dance, but kept her cool on the outside. As she debated whether it was a good idea to do this, she wondered what time it was. Today was her last day with Katharina and she had to make it good.

Poking her hip out to make a curve as she tapped her phone to check the time, she could feel Cayden’s eyes boring a hole into her shape. “What are you looking at, mister?” she teased, leaning over a little more to see the screen clearly. To her dismay, it was less than an hour before she needed to call a car and head over to Katharina’s.

This might be my last chance to be with him, she realized sadly. Realistically, she knew that never seeing him again would be highly unlikely, but being around him so much the past couple of days had made her aware of how much she really was attracted to him.

I miss you, she thought, wishing he could hear her. She knew their time today was limited, and tomorrow morning she would fly back home and be separated from him again. She had to make this morning good, but she needed to get ready.

“What do you say,” she purred, trying hard to be at least a fraction as sexy as Katharina was every moment of every day, “we continue this later?” She walked her two fingers up his thigh and pulled the corner of his towel down over his groin.

Cayden groaned; she noted a small pulsing from beneath his towel. “If I can’t do that smile, you can’t do this.”

“Good. Now we’re even.” She poked the tip of his nose and scooted off the bed, standing by his legs. “Do you have anything to do this morning?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down the length of his body at her there in her bra. “Nice pajamas.”

“Huh?” Lillian looked down to see that she was wearing his boxers. “Oh. You might need these.”

“Maybe.” He winked. “So, about later.”

Act nonchalant, she ordered herself, turning her back to him and sauntering into the bathroom. Putting her hair into a messy bun on top of her head, she replied, “You have an idea for later?”

“I do, indeed. There’s this cool café and bar that has live music every night. It might be a good last date place for us until we meet again.”

She chose not to think about having to discuss their breakup again. Not addressing it would be easier than bringing it up in conversation again, but it would definitely make her feel guiltier. “Sure. That sounds great.”

A beam crossed his face. “Awesome. When do you finish with Katharina?”

“She’s had me leave extra early since I’ve been here, so I don’t really know. We barely have anything to do today, so I’ll probably just have to text you and let you know.” She cracked the bathroom door just enough to hide from view as she stripped and started the shower.

“You’re hiding from me again,” he observed.

“I’m getting in the shower,” she countered.

“I can’t see?”

She poked her head out and stuck her tongue out at him. Feeling a landslide of emotions crashing down on her, she climbed into the shower and soaked in the water, tapping the nozzle a tiny bit so it heated up a little more. The steam rose from her feet. I should go to the spa today. Staying here would be a waste if I didn’t visit it at least once.

Pulling back the designer shower curtain enough to stick her head out, she called, “Hey, I was—”

Her next words were replaced with a little squeal to see Cayden’s face right in her own. “What are you doing!” she shrieked, flicking water on him.

“Scaring you.”

“Well, it worked.” She put one finger on his forehead and pushed him away, making sure her body was hidden. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

He nodded. “Yep. I have a workout this morning. In less than an hour, actually.”

“You look awfully good to be going to a workout.”

Cayden raised his chin conceitedly, smiling smugly. “That’s what they all say.”

“That must be why you have so many clients. Too many, if I’m remembering correctly. You’re having to turn down most of them, right?”

“You got it.”

“Well, it was nice knowing you.” She meant it as a joke, but wanted to see what his response would be.

His face went stony. “Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like, you’re trying to shove me away again.”

Lillian squeezed shampoo onto her hand and massaged it into her scalp, never more grateful to be hidden behind the shower curtain.

“You don’t have anything to say?”

I have a lot to say, and also nothing.

“Last night you seemed pretty willing to let me in again.”

“I was tipsy, Cayden.”

“So two nights in a row doesn’t mean anything? We’re going to go back to being broken up? Like nothing ever happened?”

“I’m not heartless.”

“You don’t seem to know what you want.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t want to argue, for one.” She peeked out and saw him put his hands on the counter, looking at his reflection. He took a couple of breaths then picked up his toothbrush and toothpaste.

“I don’t, either.” He started to brush his teeth and said through a foamy mouthful of toothpaste, “It just kills me, not knowing where we stand.”

Lillian leaned back, letting the water cover her head and block out the sound of Cayden brushing. As much as she wanted him there, the morning wasn’t as fun as the night was. Especially when they both knew time was almost up.

“Are...” she began, wondering if it was a good idea. She decided talking was better than staying silent. “Are you happy here?”

“In Los Angeles?” He spat into the sink.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. That’s a tough question.”

“Can you see yourself being here?”

“Another tough question. I’d have to give it some thought.”

Come on, just give me something, she begged. “What about your business? Do you think it would do well here?”

Through the shower curtain gap, she saw him unwrap the comb the hotel provided and run it through his hair. “Yeah, that I know for sure. It’s already doing really well, and I haven’t even tried to make it.” He chuckled to himself. “I know Janine would be thrilled if I didn’t go, but it would be hard to break the news to the replacement I just hired.”

“Katharina has about five hundred people who want to work with you, the way I understand it.”

“Yeah, that’s what she says.”

“Is it true?”

He shrugged. “Obviously the five hundred part isn’t. But, yeah, it’s true. Most of the people I get calls and emails from are contacts of hers. Janine always knew I wanted to go back home, so she only told a couple of people and made sure they knew I would only be here short-term. I miss my yard.”

“I bet your yard misses you,” Lillian grumbled, soaping up the shower pouf and watching the bubbles cover her body.

“Does it look okay?”

“Can’t you see on your cameras?”

“Not very well.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Fine for you means something completely different for me, you know.”

“Relax. It’s fine by your standards. I wouldn’t lie about your babies.”

Cayden stepped over and poked the shower curtain. “The way I’m hearing it, Katharina has about five million people who need your skills.”

“Who knows?” She inhaled the honey-scented body wash and was overcome by a flashback of Cayden in the shower with her back home. How he gently washed her body with the same wash. How he slipped his hand around her waist, tracing his finger down her belly...

“Do you think you could do well here?” he asked cautiously, startling her.

She felt a tiny sting in her eye. Now isn’t the time to get emotional, Lillian, she fussed. “I think I could. Katharina made a call yesterday to a friend who wanted me to come straight over to her mansion.”

“Mansion?”

“Something like that. Apparently several times bigger than Katharina’s house. I said that I need to go home and check on my other clients first.”

“Does that mean you’ll come back?”

She rinsed off the last of the soap and reluctantly turned off the water. “Can you hand me the towel, please?”

He grabbed the towel and draped it over her arm. “So, are you going to take the job?”

Pulling the shower curtain aside, she gingerly stepped onto the fuzzy bath mat, making sure her towel was secure around her chest. How could she ever tell him that coming here at all felt like a mistake, and returning would make things harder?

“Yeah,” she replied, forcing a smile. “I think I will.”

She saw his eyes grin. “I’ll bet news will spread fast about you. You’re going to be in high demand, Lil.”

“I’ll have my own TV show and everything,” she agreed sarcastically. Look at him, she thought, upset about how excited he was at the prospect of her coming back. I can’t tell him I won’t be taking the jobs. Andrew was right. I shouldn’t have come. I’ve just led us both on.

“When do you think you’ll be back?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded a touch too harsh and softened it with a stupid-looking grin. “I’ll have to see if they need me back home for a while first.”

“That makes sense.” Cayden rubbed his chin with his thumb and leaned against the door for a moment. Lillian wondered what he was thinking about. Suddenly he walked back into the room and looked around the floor.

“You need your shoes?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“They’re by the door.” How do men always fail to see what’s right in front of them?

“Oh.” He disappeared around the corner and she heard him pulling on the shoes. “I’m glad these are black. If I wore my white ones, they probably wouldn’t have let me into the bar last night.”

Something occurred to Lillian just then. “Actually,” she called, “you weren’t wearing that last night. How did you get those clothes up here?”

Cayden popped back into the bathroom, bundling up his dress shirt from the night before. “I’ll never tell.”

“No, seriously. How the heck did you bring two outfits?” Forgetting about her sadness she stared at the lump of clothes in his arms, as if that would somehow give her the answer.

“I told you, it’s a secret.”

She shook her head. “That’s crazy.”

“I’m a man of many talents, in case you haven’t noticed.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Well, someone’s confident today.”

He puffed up his chest. “Of course. You have to be to get anywhere in the world. It’s why I’m so successful—”

“What time is it?” she interrupted, distracted. She turned on the hair dryer full blast.

“Time for me to go,” Cayden answered, checking his phone. “It’s almost 8:30.”

“I need to hurry,” she muttered to herself.

“When do you leave tomorrow?”

“My flight is at 10:00.”

“In the morning?”

Please leave for work already. Dammit, why is my hair not drying? “Yes, in the morning.”

“Can I drive you?”

“Sure,” she replied without thinking.

“Awesome. So you’ll text me when you’re done with Katharina?”

“Yes,” she answered shortly.

Finally he got the memo. “Sweet. I need to, uh, go now. To my workout.”

“Have fun,” Lillian said half-mindedly, in the midst of a battle between her hair and the comb.

Cayden stumbled over his words, finally landing on a simple “Yep.” He turned and walked out, and the reality of him being gone only hit Lillian when she heard the door close behind him. Suddenly the room felt strangely empty. She was glad he wasn’t there interrogating her with petty questions anymore, but having him there adding such a distinct energy to the room and then disappearing... In her rushing to get ready, she couldn’t place the weird absence she felt now, but what she did know was that it didn’t feel right.

Being without him didn’t feel right. Being apart from him at all didn’t feel right.

She couldn’t help but entertain thoughts of running after him. She knew he wasn’t totally gone yet; the elevator was too far away for him to have already reached it unless he was running. Cayden wasn’t the running type; he always walked with that self-assured saunter, holding himself like he was the king of the world. Lillian, on the other hand, was the running type. She was always running somewhere for something. Running errands, running late, running to her clients’ doors to knock at the last second considered on time.

Okay, I don’t do that so much anymore, she consoled herself. I did at first, but when Claire saw me running through her yard that time I realized it wasn’t professional.

At heart, though, she was still a runner. She was definitely too high-stress to be a good match for Cayden. Not to mention her flare-ups were triggered by stress. Other things too, of course, but stress was her biggest problem. Even after all this time since her diagnosis and testing medicines and weeding out trigger foods, she was still stressed most of the time—to the point that it felt normal.

I wasn’t stressed a few months ago, she countered the negative voices in her head. That was a great—

She stopped. It was true: earlier this year, for a period of a few months she had been significantly less stressed. She could count on one hand the number of times she had shown symptoms of a flare-up. Just as she wondered why, the reason smacked her in the gut.

During those few months of so little stress, she had been with Cayden.

Shaking her head to snap out of it she leapt into the room to check her phone, which was dead. She cursed loudly, desperately hoping the walls were soundproof, and scrambled through her bag to find the external battery. Naturally, it was at the very bottom. Untying her charging cord at lightning speed, she shoved it into a power outlet and pressed the “on” button so many times she was scared she would break it. The only response it gave was a “Phone will turn on at 5%” message.

“It’s okay,” she told herself, returning to the bathroom. “He just said it was 8:30 before he left. I’ve got about half an hour. Easy.” Wishing her phone was alive enough to turn on some music she hummed to herself as she slapped on some makeup, tried to do a decent job with her eyeliner, and laid her outfit on the bed.

First time wearing these, she nodded at her choices. Black with gold jewelry works great any day. Dress for the job you want, right? Millionaire personal organizer? Yes, please. Pulling on the shirt, she looked in the big wall mirror at how it hugged her in all the right places. It had been a more expensive buy, but it made her look like she had her curves back.

Ah, the pre-Crohn’s days, she sighed. The days she had a body that was far less frail. It had been a struggle, adjusting to the new way of life that changed her appearance more than she liked. Either way, she was in a much better place health-wise now. She turned sideways and backwards, admiring her shirt from all angles. You look great, body. Especially in this top. That seam at the waist is working wonders!

A little noise from her phone perked up her ears. It’s about time you were turning on, she thought at it, pulling on her pants. The sounds that followed were unexpected, however; this early in the morning, she usually only had a couple of beeps from texts she had missed. Her phone was letting through what sounded like at least twenty text messages and a few phone calls.

“What the heck?” she muttered, suddenly worried that Katharina had been trying to reach her. Please don’t let it be a schedule change I missed. Please don’t...

She unlocked her phone and was met with an inbox full of unread messages from the last person she would have expected: Andrew’s parents.

Call us, please.

Are you okay?

Tried to call you several times.

We’re with him, it’s okay.

The air in her hotel room suddenly turned to sludge. It took all her strength to scroll down the message thread to find the first one, but they all seemed disjointed and she couldn’t make sense of the urgency.

She opened voicemail to find three from Andrew’s mom, Frances.

“Lillian, Andrew was just in an accident on his way to work. The hospital just called. We thought you should know.”

Her guts felt like they were being pulled out of her body. She played the second voicemail.

“Lillian, we’re at St. Therese hospital here if you can make it.”

She sank to the ground at the mention of the hospital—the same one Amelia had been rushed to after her accident. The same one Amelia never walked out of. Amelia, his sister and the closest thing to family she’d ever had.

“Lillian, we don’t know what’s going to happen. If you can make it over, I’m positive that Andrew would know you were here.” The last message ended with a whimper, then cut off.

She looked at her hands holding the phone and saw them shaking so hard they were blurry.

He won’t die. She repeated it ten times. He can’t die. I was just texting him yesterday. Was that yesterday? He won’t die. Oh shit, I have to get to the hospital. I’m coming, Andrew. I’m coming.

Operating on autopilot now, she found herself calling Katharina.

“Hi, darling, are you here? You’re early.”

“Katharina,” she said, forcing herself to take a breath.

At the sound of her panicked voice, Katharina knew instantly something was going on. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I need you to book me a flight for right now.” The words felt foreign as her lips and tongue shaped the sounds.

“Did something happen?”

“My...brother. My brother. There was an—I need to go.”

“Oh, Lillian. Of course, I can arrange it. Which airport?”

She had to wrack her brain for the city Andrew lived in. “Rodney. They live in Rodney. It’s only a few hours away from where I live.”

“Got it,” Katharina said slowly. “I’ll call you back, dear. Keep your phone with you.”

Unable to speak, Lillian dropped her hands into her lap and stared at the wall. Her heart felt like it was about to pound through her ribcage and burst into the room. She hugged her knees, rocking back and forth. Her stomach felt hot.

No flare-ups right now, please, she begged.

The phone rang. Lillian put it on speaker.

“I’ve called my agent. You have a flight in two hours. I sent the ticket to your email; it should be there now. A car is coming for you now. I’ll take care of your hotel and check you out.”

“Can I get through the airport that fast?”

“If you hurry, it won’t be a problem. Get your stuff ready; the car will be there in a few minutes. Meet him out front. It’s the same driver as yesterday.”

“I don’t know if I can make it,” Lillian blurted.

“You can make it, just hurry.”

“I’m not talking about the flight.” She felt bile rise in her throat.

“Oh.” Katharina paused. “You’re going to be fine. Don’t think about anything right now except getting on that plane. One step at a time.”

“I can’t think.”

“Don’t think about anything. Not even your brother. Just the plane. Do you hear me?”

She nodded, not understanding that Katharina couldn’t see.

“Go get your things and call me in a few days when things are better, okay? I have a lot of work for you to do here. I gave your contact info to a few people today.”

“I...” Lillian looked around, overwhelmed at her small amount of luggage. “I have to go, I think.”

“Yes. Go, now. Talk soon.”

Dazed, Lillian pressed the end button and unsteadily rose to her feet. She was sure the room had suddenly been put on a rotating platform; every step was like trying to walk on a balance beam.

Andrew, don’t go.

I’m coming.

Stay there.

No, Lillian, not Andrew. Just the plane. Your one goal right now is to get on that damn plane.

She thought of the plane so fiercely she regained her footing enough to run around the room, shoving her few possessions into her bags. Not bothering to take a last look and make sure she got everything, she slung the bags over her shoulders and bolted down the hallway.

It was the longest elevator ride she had ever taken, but she found herself bursting through the front doors of the hotel. A suited driver stood in front of the same SUV she had ridden in yesterday.

“Miss Warren?”

She nodded.

He took her bags and opened the back door for her. “Let’s get you to the airport.”

Trees and buildings and cars went by unnoticed. The whole way she stared out the window, not allowing herself to think of anything except the steps she would need to take as soon as she arrived.

Thank the driver. Run inside. Go to check in. Through security. To the gate. Board the plane.

It all happened in a blur. The car stopped; she barely noticed until the driver opened the door, her bags hanging off one of his tree-trunk arms.

“Thank you,” she felt herself saying, took the bags, and suddenly was in front of endless rows of check-in counters. She showed someone her phone. They pointed; she walked, footstep after quick footstep. Waited in the dwindling line. Handed her ID to the lady. Ticket in hand she floated through security, laser-focused on the plane.

I’m almost there.

Then she was there, and people were already boarding the plane. She stood with them, steadily moving forward.

He loved me. Loves me. He’s still here. He’s not gone. Love in the present tense. Their conversation from before, when Andrew had confessed he had feelings for her, came flooding back. I should have said yes. She knew it was drastic, but at the thought of losing him when the wounds from Amelia’s death weren’t fully healed yet—it was unbearable.

I should have called him every day. I shouldn’t have waited over a year before calling him. She handed her ticket to another woman and started down to the plane. I should’ve told him everything. Why didn’t I tell him everything? He deserved to know.

She piled her bags in the overhead compartment and tensely lowered herself into her seat, every muscle braced for emotional impact. I should’ve called him yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that.

But she had been with Cayden.

Cayden. The plane was moving, but she pulled up a new message to him. He had wanted to take her to a café tonight. She needed to text him.

I had to go. Andrew was in an accident. I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I get there.

A rush of energy overcame her body at the same time her mind was shutting down. She knew she was having a full-blown panic attack right now but in survival mode—for the time being, at least. She could break when she got to the hospital with Andrew’s parents, the two people who had essentially adopted her a long time ago and loved her like they loved their own two children.

Putting her phone on airplane mode, she bounced her leg to relieve some of the adrenaline surge. Thank goodness, she was near the front. She would be one of the first to get off.

I’m coming, Andrew, she thought hard, trying to get the message through to his probably-unconscious body. I’m coming for you. Stay there. I’m on my way.