Page 113

For now, that’s enough.

We finish our coffee in silence.

Eventually, despite G’s obvious attempt to pretend none of this was emotional, I lean over and wrap my arms around her.

She stiffens for half a second.

Then she hugs me back.

Tighter than I expected.

Almost like she needed it as much as I did.

* * *

My phone starts vibrating against the coffee table.

MR. ASHFORD

My stomach does something embarrassingly pathetic.

G glances at the screen and nearly spills her second coffee of the day. “Speak of the devil.”

I stare at his name for a second too long.

“Well?” G gestures impatiently toward my phone. “Answer it.”

I grab it from the table and hold up a warning finger. “Don’t say a word.”

She pretends to zip her lips, but the way she immediately leans closer tells me she has no intention of respecting my privacy.

I answer the call, but before I can say anything, Dean’s voice comes through.

“Good morning, Miss Morgan,” he greets.

“Morning, Mr. Ashford,” I reply.

“You alive?” he asks.

“Barely,” I groan.

“Good. I was starting to worry I wore you out,” he teases.

I can picture the smug look on his face as he says it.

Smug bastard.

Unfortunately, G hears him too. She immediately starts smacking my arm and bouncing around on the couch like she has a spider up her ass.

I swat her away, trying not to laugh.

“Seriously, though,” Dean continues, his voice losing its teasing edge. “Are you okay?”

And I know what he’s really asking.

Not whether I’m tired.

He’s asking about last night.