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On Friday night, Hayes and I spent ten whole minutes at the company’s final mixer, just long enough for him to make contact with some of the peers he met last weekend, shake Mr. Helm’s hand, and admit wryly that we never quite made it to the beach for surfing. Then we dashed back to our room, peeled off our clothes hurriedly, and loved each other through most of our last night in Maui.

The following afternoon, we boarded the plane home. Exhaustion caught up with me, and I slept most of the flight to LAX. Hayes, too. I felt refreshed by the time we picked up our luggage. So I lean in to kiss him, sure he’ll come spend the night at my place. But Hayes simply carries my luggage up the stairs and to my door, then drops me off with a kiss.

“Hey, don’t forget that Sunday movies and munchies is at my place at noon tomorrow. You’ll be there, right?”

“Of course. Hayes—”

“Great. I’ll see you then. Sleep good, shortcake.”

He kisses my forehead and lopes down the stairs before I can call him back. Then he’s gone.

I lock the door, frowning. There’s no way our relationship was only a vacation fling. Right?

I’m still wondering the same thing when I wake Sunday morning, stretching after a fitful night of sleep. Why didn’t Hayes stay with me? Sure, he hinted that he had some things to take care of after being gone.

Any chance he meant Jayci?

No, Hayes wouldn’t intentionally hurt me like that.

Still, it’s hard not to be insecure, especially when I glance at my phone. He hasn’t left a single text or message since walking away.

Pensively, I shower and pick at some breakfast. My phone dings, and I jump for it. But it’s just Maryam asking for a ride. There goes my idea of heading over to Hayes’s place early to talk.

Sure. Pick you up at quarter to noon, I reply.

I should call Ella and Eryn. It’s been over a week since I’ve talked to either of my sisters, which is totally unusual. But they’re busy, and they knew I was in Hawaii. I have a couple of hours to kill. And maybe they’ll have some advice on how to handle things when I see Hayes.

Ella’s phone goes straight to voicemail. Maybe they’re in church? It is Sunday morning, after all. But Eryn doesn’t answer, either. Damn it. So much for the comfort of my sisters’ sage advice.

I’ll have to figure this out on my own.

I kill some time watching reruns of a favorite TV show, then head to my closet with a sigh. Decisions, decisions. The comfort of long skirts, oversized shirts, and Birkenstocks? Or the sex appeal of short skirts, high heels, and cleavage? Actually, the choice is easy. If Hayes thinks he can just come and go from my bed or that we’re in any way done, I’m going to remind him of what he’s not getting until he gets his shit together and talks to me.

Brimming with attitude, I pluck a daring orange dress off the hanger. The day Xavian talked me into it, I couldn’t picture myself wearing anything that hugged me so tightly everyone can see the indentation of my belly button. The lycra dress barely covers the tops of my thighs. But the most daring part? Spaghetti straps cling to my shoulders while the buttons that hold the front of the dress together across my breasts strain, almost gaping to reveal the contents of my strapless bra. Hayes will take one look at this dress and flip.

How about that, pal?

After arranging my hair in a soft half up-half down ’do, I hop in my car and try my best to ignore the fact I’m shaking. And hopefully overreacting. Maybe Hayes just needed a night alone at his place to get it in order before everyone showed up today. Maybe I’m just being insecure after years of feeling invisible to him.

Either way, as I pull away from my apartment, Maryam texts to say that she doesn’t need a ride after all because Graham unexpectedly picked her up on his way. But could I stop at the store for some champagne?

On it, I text back.

Weirdly, I bump into Kella at the store. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d already be at Hayes’s place.”

“Picking up some OJ for Graham.” She scans me from head to toe, rearing back. “Wow, you look stunning.”

Kella is no slouch herself, but she’s complimenting me, so I smile. But I’m so confused. Why would the gang ask her to stop for OJ when I’m already here picking up champagne?

Whatever. I just want to get out of here and over to Hayes.

Kella stops me in the shampoo aisle. “Hang on. I’m looking for something new to try. Got recommendations? Your hair always looks amazing.”


Tags: Shayla Black Romance