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Wait. Isn’t there a challenge soon?

By then, maybe Rhett will have forgotten how I completely embarrassed myself.

It’s possible.

I force myself into a sitting position, and that’s when I notice my Bitty Being on the nightstand. The crack running down her face catches the morning sun. The way the light hits it, it looks like the girl’s cracked face is glowing.

I blink. Shake my head.

Great. One cracked girl staring back at another cracked girl.

Perfect.

Love that journey for me.

I grunt in frustration. Bunnicorns don’t teleport, and cracked Bitty Beings don’t glow.

Perhaps I should also click my heels together and recite, There’s no place like home.

Exhaling a huff of air, I lean forward and inspect the sculpture. Sure enough, it pulses faintly, as if it’s judging me for past deeds.

“Don’t you start. Either of you.” I point my finger at Flame. “I’m not falling for him. I’m not. So what if he said that getting physical would mean something to him? So what if we shared a perfect cotton candy–tasting kiss? I refuse to fall.”

A knock at the door makes my spine snap taut. I yelp and clamp a hand over my mouth.

Maybe it’s housekeeping.

I slowly pull my hand away. “Who is it?”

“Rhett.”

Double-dog darnit! I’m supposed to be avoiding him. Or he’s supposed to be avoiding me.

I close my eyes briefly, summoning what’s left of my dignity, and open the door.

His scent hits me first—soap and cedar and that undercurrent of leather that’s distinctly him. It wraps around me like a cloud, and I want to walk right into it.

And then, of course, fall through the cloud and land on the ground, exploding into a thousand pieces.

My gaze slowly tracks up to his face, expecting him to be frowning after my proposal last night.

But he’s not. Rhett smiles, and it’s like the heavens appearing after a stormy night.

Heat crawls up my neck. “Flame’s in here, if you’re looking for her.”

“Good to know.”

I start to shut the door when he stops it with his hand. “Do you want to catch some breakfast?”

“Are you throwing it at me?” I joke, laughing through a snort that makes Rhett’s eyes light up. Must squash down anything on Rhett that makes him look dreamy—which is impossible because everything about him is dreamy.

“Seriously, though, I just got up. I haven’t showered. You go on ahead of me.”

“I can wait.”

Crap. “Sure. Okay, then. Give me ten minutes.”

I shut the door, grumbling as I grab some clothes and head into the shower.