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Maybe that's his way of coping. Fine. I can live with that.

But he threw me away. How can he be so happy to see me now? How can he remember my drink order?

Why is he looking at me like he's still in love with me?

I take a long sip to keep from touching him. It also spares me the trouble of forming a response. I appreciate the drink but I'd rather have you in my mouth is not what I want to say here.

"Thank you. It's perfect." I hold his gaze. Somehow, I manage to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground too.

"I'll let you get to work." He takes a step backwards. "Unless you want to head to lunch now?"

I look back into my room to check the time. Lunch is reasonable and my stomach is growling at the thought of food. Say eggs with avocado, or a sandwich with extra avocado, or a giant bowl of guacamole and a spoon.

Ethan laughs. "Let me guess—you want tacos with extra guacamole?"

I admit nothing. "We should try the tea place."

"They have an avocado sandwich."

"A wise menu addition."

"Meet me in the lobby in five? We can walk from here."

My knees go weak as his smile spreads across his cheeks. My body is still tuned to the Ethan is a sex god channel.

I want to feel good. And his smile fills me with warm, gooey affection.

It's only lunch.

I can do lunch.

"Make it ten," I say.

"Need more eyeliner?"

I laugh. "Yes."

"Me too."

Lord help me.

Chapter 12

Violet

In downtown San Francisco, Ethan's navy hoodie and designer jeans are not code for rock star hanging out on his day off but rather another young tech millionaire. Nobody stops him or looks at him sideways.

We have the day off today. Tomorrow, the band is playing a sold-out show at some big amphitheater. Then we head to Portland, then Seattle, then Chicago, then New York.

There are a few days off and another few in transit. That gives me nine more days in Ethan's company.

Nine days with my body screaming give me Ethan.

The back of his hand brushes against mine. Immediately, my body responds. My stomach flutters. Heat spreads to my cheeks and chest. I allow myself a moment to check him out—tight jeans, wide smile, navy eyeliner making his blue eyes look bluer.

He's hotter than he was when we were together. How is that possible?

"It's right this way." He nods to a packed corner.

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