I rub my forehead as the members of my study group chat animatedly around me.

I can’t concentrate.

All I can think about is the conversation I had with Lucas back in the penthouse…and the envelope full of hundred-dollar bills he made sure I took before leaving. Clearly, he paid me the money before I left to make it clear the role-play’s still in full effect. And to ensure I don’t chicken out on doing the dastardly thing I agreed to do. And even though I understand he’s merely expecting me to follow through on what I promised to do for him, I can’t help feeling like he’s kicked me in the teeth.

Oh, God, this entire week has been such a mind-fuck. My feelings for Lucas have felt so damned real. The conversations we’ve had, the way we fit together sexually, the songs he’s written about me. I’d swear on a stack of bibles we’re both feeling the same very real and very intense thing.

And yet…

He paid me. Which means that no matter what he may or may not be feeling for me, or how real or make-believe it may be, he wants me to follow through on my promise, regardless.

Clearly, Lucas wants to be free more than he wants a girlfriend. And that means that, even though I love him, I’ve got to honor my promise to him and set him free.

Or… Wait. Perhaps I’m thinking about this all wrong. Maybe I’ve got to honor my promise to Lucas precisely because I love him. If you love someone, set them free.

I put my hands over my face, trying not to cry. Yes. That’s it. I love him…and that means I’ve got to do this for him, no matter the pain it will cause myself.

“Abby?” a study-buddy sitting next to me says. “You okay?”

I rub my eyes, stand, and scoop up my laptop and books. “I’m not feeling very well all of a sudden. I think I’d better get some rest.”

I say my goodbyes and barrel out of the library toward my car in the parking lot.

If you love someone, set them free.

I reach my car, stumble inside, and sit for a long moment, my fingers wrapped around my steering wheel, tears threatening. If I go back to The Rockford and see Lucas’s beautiful face again, I’ll lose my resolve. I know I will. I’ll throw myself into his arms and beg him to take me with him to Los Angeles. I’ll tell him I love him and can’t live without him.

And none of that is what he wants or needs.

With a trembling hand, I pick up my phone to call Lucas, and suddenly realize we’ve never exchanged phone numbers. “Oh, for the love of fuck,” I mutter. With a sigh, I press the button to call The Rockford’s front desk.

A male voice answers. “The Rockford Hotel. How may I assist you?”

“Is this Theo or Pablo? It’s Abby Medford. I work the night shift.”

“Oh, yeah. Hi, Abby. It’s Theo.”

“Hey, Theo. How are you?”

“Good. What’s up?”

“Could you please patch me through to ‘Mr. Knobhopper’ in Penthouse A? I know he’s a restricted-access VIP guest, but I delivered some food to him the other day when he happened to be in the middle of writing an amazing new song, and he was so excited about it he played it for me. Anyway, I gushed about the song, of course, so he told me to come back again today on my day off to hear his next few songs, too—and I just wanted to talk to him briefly to ask if now would be a good time for me to drop by. Obviously, I don’t want to bother him if he’s busy, and I know he’s flagged for no outside calls, but I don’t want to be rude and not show up if he was serious about me coming today.” I hold my breath and wait, not sure if Theo’s a big-picture kind of guy or a slave-to-the-rules kind of guy.

“Wow, lucky you,” Theo says.

“Yeah, I know. Right place, right time, huh? He seemed really sincere when he told me to come see him again today. He made me promise twice.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, I’ll put you through. We wouldn’t want him feeling like you ignored his explicit request.”

“Exactly. Thanks so much, Theo.”

The line rings. And rings.

“Yeah?” Lucas finally says brusquely, much to my relief.

“It’s me,” I choke out.

Lucas’s voice turns instantly warm and affectionate. “Hey, angel face,” he says softly, and I can hear his sexy smile across the phone line. “I’m aching for you, baby. Get your hot ass back here before I explode.”

My stomach tightens. I lean my forehead on my steering wheel, close my eyes, and exhale. “I’m calling to tell you I’m not coming back. I’m calling to say goodbye.”

“What? No, not yet, Abby. We’ve got one more night.”

“Goodbye, Lucas.”

“Abby, wait. We’ve got one more night before you do this. I was looking forward to it. Counting on it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Abby, wait. I’m serious. Don’t hang up. I’m not heading to LA for another twenty-four hours and I want to spend every one of those hours with you.”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.” I blink and the tears pooling in my eyes streak down my cheeks. “This is goodbye.”

Lucas sounds genuinely distressed. “But you said you’d come back. I was counting on you coming back, Abby. What happened?”

“I’ve got to go now. I’m sorry.”

“Stop! Wait. Tell me what happened. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

I swallow hard. “I’m sorry, but I’ve realized I still love Camden.”

Lucas exhales audibly like he’s greatly relieved. And then he snorts like I’ve said something absolutely hilarious. “Oh my fuck. For a second there, I thought there was something genuinely wrong.” He chuckles. “Baby, we’ve got another twenty-four hours before I have to leave. That shit can wait. Just come back to me. I’m physically aching for you—like a junkie needing a fix. Let’s dive into your bag of toys again. I’m addicted to you.”

I squeeze my eyes tight and grip the phone against my ear with white knuckles. “I…I want Camden, not you. I’m sorry.”

I can hear him roll his eyes over the phone line. “Okay, press pause on that shit, okay? I want another night with you. I’m going crazy over here. My entire body’s aching like I’m in withdrawals. Come back right now. That’s an order.”

I take a trembling breath. “Goodbye, Lucas,” I squeak out, tears streaking down my cheeks.

His voice sounds panicked now. “Abby, time out on the game, okay? Seriously. This is real. I didn’t get to kiss you goodbye. I wasn’t thinking that was going to be the last time I was going to see you. Now stop fucking around and come back. I mean it.”

Tears are streaming from my eyes. “Leave my bag at the front desk when you check out, okay? I know you’re going to do great things and I can’t wait to see it. But I don’t love you and I have to end this now.”

“Abby. Wait. Please, I—”

I hang up the call.

“Free yourself, Lucas,” I whisper into the silence of my car. I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and stare out my windshield for a long moment. And then I lean forward, place my forehead against my steering wheel, and burst into tears.