I did a once-over of the outfit Becca had suggested. She’d been a bit melancholy when I told her what the occasion was. I doubt she ever had to put together a last-date outfit. But, in her line of business, anything was possible. Plus, I think following us online had convinced her we’d get a happily ever after. And, if we could convince Becca, who was in on it from the beginning, we could probably convince just about everyone.

Now, if I could just keep from convincing myself I’d be all set.

The door buzzed and I let Connor in even though I’d given him a key after the first paparazzi incident. I’d never wanted to leave him standing out there vulnerable. But, if there was no reason for him to worry, he always rang the buzzer.

It was a simple thing that made me feel like he appreciated the fact that this was my space.

I opened the door, my heart flipping over more than a little at the sight of him. Somewhere along the line he’d stopped being the media sensation and had just become Connor.

And that was more dangerous than anything else.

He smiled down at me, looking as at ease as ever.

“You look beautiful.” His gaze traveled over me in an assessment far less critical than the one I’d just given myself.

I gave a little snort as I reached for my jacket and scarf knowing the night air wasn’t what it had been even a few weeks ago. The leaves were rushing off the trees, fall was rushing toward winter, and we were rushing to a finish.

“Hailey.” He grabbed my hand, tugging me back around to face him as I went to grab my bag. “You look beautiful.”

I looked up at him, really looked and saw there was nothing but sincerity in his gaze. So honest that I couldn’t even bring myself to throw out a comment about how we met or the women he dated. Instead, I stood there, enjoying the compliment and living for once in the moment of appreciation.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He laughed before adding, “Was that so hard?”

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Connor to challenge me with a compliment.

We got to the stoop and he reached out and wrapped my glove-covered hand in his, turning me down the sidewalk.

“I thought we’d walk. It’s only a couple blocks.”

I nodded, feeling stilted and slow. Feeling like a woman walking to her own execution.

Everyone had warned me. Even Catherine, once I was too far in to care, had tried to pull me out of this emotional nose-dive. But, knowing it was too late, I decided to enjoy our last evening out together. The idea that after everything we’d been through together we’d be this uncomfortable was ridiculous.

I gave his hand a squeeze and asked, “Are you excited about the SportsCenter thing?”

He glanced down, blinking as if I’d pulled him out of another world. With a shake of the head, he gave me a Connor-smile that began to feel like it was just for me.

“Honestly? I’m really nervous.” He rolled his eyes at himself as if to make his statement less important. “It’s a great opportunity. It’s basically a job interview. If you can’t pull off a guest spot, there’s no way you could carry a host position.”

“And you’re thinking that’s what you want to do?” I guess I hadn’t considered what he’d do when his career on the field was done.

“Maybe. I had thought…” He glanced away looking, for the first time ever, embarrassed.

“What?” There was no way I was letting him off the hook with that blush creeping up his neck. Maybe he’d hoped to be an actor or a Playgirl bunny. Were the male versions bunnies too? That seemed a little emasculating.

“I had thought I’d coach.” He shrugged, and glanced away, not meeting my gaze. “But, I’m afraid maybe I burned too many bridges. A coach needs a good reputation and starting out, coming off the field, mine isn’t that hot.”

“You still have time to turn that around. I’m sure the next couple years you could work with some of the younger guys and see if it’s even something you like.”

I wanted to add, don’t head out and sleep with the first leggy blonde you see after I leave on book tour, but that seemed a little proprietary. And, also, not the Connor I’d come to know.

That was just my fear talking.

I was going to have to stop watching TV. And stay off the Internet. And have my groceries delivered so I didn’t get bombarded with tabloids.

This was going to be a long recovery.

I didn’t want to talk about what this month had done for me. It wasn’t something that was measurable. It made me want things, things I thought were further down the road for me. Things I had assumed would take a backseat to my writing career 'til I could hopefully build a stronger foundation and get another series or a movie deal, or something.

Things I was realizing I wanted with Connor.

My love for Connor had snuck in like a soft breeze on a summer’s day—so light and refreshing that it was just what you needed and you didn’t even notice it until you felt better.

He’d become My First.

Not like the first people talk about. But my first for all the important now stuff. The person I wanted to tell things to first and call first and talk to first in the morning and hear his news first and be there for him when he needed support before he reached out to others.

It was not something I’d expected. As much as Connor had warned me, he had warned me about something ridiculous and not real. Something that would never happen. An infatuation would have been a relief, but what I felt for him was so much more solid than that.

Walking to our last date felt like walking to my own ending, because Connor had become such a part of me that when he was gone, part of me would surely be dead.

And I doubted the loss would be as soft-footed as the falling.

“And what about you, Hails? Is it making a difference for you?”

I watched my feet move, one in front of the other, down the dust-grey sidewalk, ignoring how his voice had turned serious. Because, yes. It was making a difference for me and I was going to have to figure out what to do with that now.

I’m not even sure how I answered him, but the joke I made seemed to fall flat.

Neither of us seemed in the mood for funny.

We got to dinner and were seated right away—the magic of the celebrity reservation.

I’d sure miss that.

There was a script, we were supposed to play it out. A little bit melancholy, still happy to be with one another but both of us worried about where this was going.

It wasn’t hard to act out since it was almost true. Except I did know where it was going.

Connor reached across the table and took my hand, pulling my attention back from the flashbacks of the last few weeks running through my head.

“Hey.” He whispered it before getting up and moving his chair around to sit next to me. “This is…this sucks. Hails, this just sucks. I know the plan and I get it. I even know that it’s right that we play it out like this, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends any more, right?”

“Of course.” Because what was I supposed to say? No, I’m sorry. Being friends with you might kill me?

“I mean, I need you, Hailey. You’re one of my best friends and I don’t think that if you were going to kick me out of your life now I’d be okay with that.” He ran a hand through his hair, giving it a tight tug at the end. “Of course I’d be okay with that. I’m not like a friend-stalker guy or anything but…when I told you how limited my friend pool was, that was true. Some of it’s my job. Some of it’s bad choices I made. But, Hailey, you’re one of those few people I trust. I’m glad we’ve gotten to know each other.”

“Me too.” I nearly whispered it because it was true. My heart was breaking but it was true.

“So, we’ll do the rest of this. You’ll go on your book tour. I’ll go do that guest host gig. We’ll stick to the plan and maybe in a couple weeks we could do something. You know, hang out?”

“Sure.”

That was a lie. That was a bald-faced lie. For a moment I feared he saw through it and realized that when he left, when he took his little bag home with him tonight, that was the last time I’d see him for a long time. Distance and time were going to have to do their job getting me over him before I could consider seeing him again.

We sat there, his hand wrapping mine tight in its shell as he waited for the bill to come. The walk home was just as quiet. Neither of us talking but the heat of his hand seeping through my thin, fall gloves to warm my palm. He followed me up to my apartment, where his bag was sitting on the table next to the door waiting for him.

He glanced around, as if taking it all in for the last time. No matter what he had said in the restaurant it seemed like he was saying goodbye too.

“So, we’re taking off tonight.” He stared ahead, his gaze going straight past my shoulder as if the most interesting thing in the world was in the kitchen. “I texted Gavin when we left. He should be downstairs in a few.”

“Great. That’s good.” I stood as still as possible, trying not to break. “I’m glad he’s going with you. New York’s a lot of fun.”

“Yeah.” Connor dropped the bag and stepped to me, pulling me into a tight, solid hug that went on until my body finally relaxed against his. “Thanks, Hails. Thanks for everything.”

I didn’t know what everything was, but I knew if it was even a portion of my everything, he felt like he was losing something. Maybe not his heart or a friend. Maybe just a favorite pair of shoes. But still.

“Have a safe trip.” I gave him the warmest smile I could, opening the door and hoping that he’d be safely down to the lobby before I started to cry.

He looked at me like I’d just hurt him. Like there was something else I was supposed to say. Maybe the script I thought we were going off of wasn’t the same one he had. But, as far as I knew, this was when he left and didn’t look back.

This was when I got ready to leave on book tour in a few days and hoped that the hectic schedule and the time away made coming home to my suddenly huge apartment seem bearable.

He pulled his bag over his shoulder and crossed to the door, pausing to look down at me.

“I’ll talk to you later.” He made a declaration. One I wanted to believe.

I gave him a nod and a smile, not trusting myself to speak.

“Hails.” He laughed, filling the apartment with that Connor light again. Who knows what he was thinking, but I glanced away. Not wanting to have this conversation any more.

Before I knew it, he’d kissed me on the cheek and headed down the stairs.

I listened, standing with my body leaning out the doorway of my apartment as if it wanted to follow him but was anchored there in the real world. After a moment, his feet on the stairs silenced, then the echoey click of the front door falling shut. I ran to my window, wanting to make sure he wasn’t left standing there just in time to see him climb into a dark SUV and it pull away.

I sat down, waiting to feel grief or whatever it was a person felt when their pretend romance ended and they realized they were actually in love with the idiot.

Instead I just felt sad. A tiny, overused word for a huge, gaping emotion.

* * *

The phone rang a few hours later and I figured it was Jenna checking in. Maybe making sure I hadn’t joined a convent or any other ridiculous thing. But, when I glanced at the screen, Connor’s name lit it up.

My hand almost immediately went to accept the call, but stopped when my brain kicked in. I wanted the time to figure out how to deal with him and be fair to both of us. To be fair to the man who had warned me in more ways than words that he wasn’t a long-term relationship guy.

After a moment, the voicemail indicator dinged and I stared at the hunk of electronics in my hand silently mocking me.

Since I had already proven I was a glutton for punishment, I pulled up my voicemail.

“Hey, Hails.” Connor sounded normal. As if we’d just had dinner and he was on a trip with his brother…and we’d see each other again soon. “Just wanted to let you know we got here. I’m taking Gavin to that restaurant you talked about. He’s being what I think you’d call mopey guy because of his most recent dating disaster, but I’m glad he came.” There was a long pause as if he was confused or looking for words. “Just wanted to call you before you left tomorrow.”

There was some mumbled shouting in the background that sounded an awful lot like Gavin giving him a rough time. Then the phone got quiet and scratchy as I pictured Connor holding it against his jacket.

“Seriously, jackass.” Connor shouted. “Shut up.”

I laughed, listening to the two of them bicker before the phone cleared and Connor came back.

“Sorry about that. Anyway. Hope you’re all set for your trip. I’ll talk to you after mine.”

The phone went dead and I hit nine to save it because—as we’ve established—I’m a glutton for punishment.