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“I also wrote down a bunch of instructions pertaining to Aunt Rosie.” Rafe set a piece of paper on the counter. “You can always text me if you have questions.” He grinned. “I’ll leave my bed the way it is, so you can smell me on the sheets.”

“I appreciate that.”

He pressed his forehead to mine. “I don’t want you to forget me.”

“I could never forget you,” I whispered.

“I promise to call you when I land tomorrow.”

“Please do. I’ll be waiting.”

I smiled, even as my stomach sank. I shook my head, shunning the thoughts that threatened to ruin my last seconds with him.

He caressed my face. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m just worried you’ll end up loving it out there so much that you won’t come back to New York.”

“I can’t tell you how I’m gonna like Vegas. But I do know how I feel about you, and that’s not gonna change, no matter where I am. Okay?” He reached for my chin and placed one last kiss on my lips.

My eyes welled up. “I can’t stand long goodbyes. They hurt too much. So I’m gonna walk away now. Okay?”

Rafe held me tight. “I’ll never complain about one last chance to admire that ass as you walk away, beautiful.”

I laughed through my tears and pulled myself away. As I headed up the stairs, I felt my tears on my cheeks. Since it was so late, I hoped Calder was already asleep.

When I entered the apartment, though, I stopped short at the sight of him sitting in the living room.

“Did you cry like that when I left?” he said spitefully.

I could’ve responded, but I chose not to, afraid to make things worse. I was too spent to argue tonight. Ashamed, I felt like a dog with its tail between its legs as I headed to the bedroom and closed the door behind me.

CHAPTER 34

I wish I had to work.

The following day, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Rafe had left for Vegas at ten AM, and I sat at the kitchen table in his apartment alone, my thoughts heavy on my shoulders. It was pouring outside, dark and gloomy, the weather perfectly aligned with the way I felt.

I’d never been very good at sitting still unless I was working. It gave my brain too much time to wander, and today I hated the places mine went. So I got up and cleaned.

Rafe’s place wasn’t dirty. It was neat and tidy enough, just…guy clean. The baseboards needed dusting, the bathroom tile scrubbing, and I bet the kitchen cabinets hadn’t been washed down in forever.

I found cleaning products under the sink, along with a roll of paper towels and some scrub brushes, and I got started in the kitchen. I took apart the stovetop, organized the spices—even though there were only eight of them—and cleaned out the refrigerator. I washed the wooden kitchen cabinets, then hit them with a spray of polish and broke out the stainless-steel cleaner. By the time I was done, everything sparkled. It had given my hands something to do and slowed the racing thoughts in my head—at least somewhat.

I moved on to the living room, where I fluffed pillows and vacuumed. I found two paintbrushes and a pen between the seat cushions and went back into the kitchen to see if I could find a junk drawer. Pulling the first one open, I frowned.

At first glance, it was a normal junk drawer—screwdrivers, batteries, a roll of tape, loose change, and a bunch of receipts. Then I noticed a scrap of black material. My stomach dropped. It was a thong. I tried to blow it off—shut the drawer and tell myself it had been sitting there for a year—but I couldn’t seem to get my hand to budge. I just stared at the black lace.

Rafe had a life before me. I knew that. And how important could the woman be if her underwear was half buried under a Chinese takeout menu? He probably didn’t even realize they were still there.

Yet I couldn’t stop myself from lifting the menu. In fact, I lifted the entire pile of menus.

And found a second pair. This one red.

A laugh bubbled up from my throat, though I thought I might throw up. “Awesome,” I mumbled. After another minute or two, I finally managed to slam the drawer shut.

I had no right to be upset. It didn’t mean Rafe had done anything wrong. I knew that. The man was gorgeous. Of course he’d had women here. I’d seen Cara leaving, after all. Yet jealousy burned through me, followed quickly by paranoia.

I left the kitchen before I started opening every drawer, rummaging for things I didn’t want to find. I needed to make the bed anyway. But as I pulled the comforter up to the headboard, I couldn’t help wondering how many other women had been on this mattress.