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“Why?”

“Filming is about to start on the first script I sold, so I’ll be on set in Chicago.”

Fuck, I hated that. Chicago wasn’t Mars, but it also wasn’t Southern California. If things went where I wanted them to go, a six-week separation would be too much.

“That’s even more reason for you to come home with me now,” I said. “We need to spend as much time together as possible before you go. We can do long distance, but let’s get to know as much as we can about each other first.”

She tilted her head and stared at me for a few seconds as she considered it. I did my best to stay focused on the task at hand as opposed to getting lost in her green eyes.

When she spoke, I had to refrain from doing a victory jig.

“I surrender. I can’t believe you want this or that I’m agreeing to do it, but okay.”

Best fucking thing I’d heard since the night before when she agreed to go home with me the first time.

Once she agreed, I wasted no time in getting her to pack. For as chaotic as her closet was, her packing skills were incredible. She folded and rolled things in such a way that a ton of clothes fit into a small suitcase, leaving plenty of room for the four pairs of shoes she added. After her suitcase was zipped, she went to her bathroom and packed what she needed from there, then came back and gathered her laptop and a few notebooks.

After saying goodbye to Morgan and Gage, Allie and I left. In the garage, she led me to a bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle. I took note of the fake sunflower decorated with sunglasses and red lips in the small bud vase on her dash. A tiny aqua and white dream catcher hung from her rearview mirror, and a small mound of patterned scarves was on her passenger seat. I liked that her personality was fun and laid back.

“I’ll follow you back to your place,” she told me after I tucked her luggage into her minuscule back seat.

“Perfect.”

Even though it was only temporary, I couldn’t believe how fucking excited I was to have her move in with me.9AllieAllieWalking into Vaughn’s house with bags full of my stuff was flat-out weird. I knew I was only staying with him for a short time, but it felt like my decision to take him up on his offer had a lot of significance to it. Morgan was the only person I had ever lived with outside of family. I’d never even come close to this stage with a guy before. Hell, I barely made time for dating, let alone relationships that would be serious enough to reach the move-in conversation.

I was an odd mixture of nervous and excited to see how all this worked out with Vaughn, who seemed quite calm as he rolled my suitcase into his entryway. “This isn't freaking you out, even a tiny bit?”

“Nope.” Vaughn shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “And I’m as shocked by my lack of reaction as you are.”

I would almost swear there was the tiniest hint of smugness in his eyes, as if he'd just gotten something he’d been working toward for a long time. Which was totally impossible.

For a guy who didn't have women over to his place, I was expecting the opposite. His years spent as a Hollywood reporter must have paid off because he had one hell of a poker face. "You clean up at those casino nights, don't you?"

"I win more than my fair share of hands.” He looked over his shoulder and flashed me a grin. "But Gage does really well, too. He’s got the best bluff out of all of us, which doesn’t come as too much of a surprise since he's an Oscar award-winning actor."

I followed him up the stairs to the master bedroom, pausing in the doorway until he realized I had stopped and turned to look over his shoulder at me. “You didn’t mention I’d be staying in your room while I was here.”

“Shit.” He raked his free hand through his hair. “After last night, I just—”

I decided to let him off the hook. “Don’t worry. I’m just fucking with you.”

“Damn, you had me going there.” He shook his head and headed into the insanely huge walk-in closet. He rolled my bag over to the empty side and lifted it up on top of the dresser, unzipping and folding it open for me. “Feel free to unpack. All these drawers are empty, and you’re welcome to use the hangers over here if you’ve got stuff you don’t want to leave folded.”

“Admit it. You can’t stand the idea of me keeping my stuff in my suitcase because you’re more than a little bit OCD about your closet, aren’t you?” I teased.

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