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His smile widens.

“You ate. Good girl.”

With my coat safely off now and my purse on the table, I head for the bathroom, because he just called me a good girl.

No.

Nope.

I need to be in a different room than him before I do something completely out of character and move closer to him, or worse, kiss him.

What is wrong with me?

“Grace,” Preston calls my name. I glance over my shoulder.

“I’m serious. Are you okay?”

I nod. “Yes.”

Then I step into the bathroom and shut the door.

Having him here right now makes me feel funny. It makes me … smile.

But I would never let him see that. I can’t let him see how I’m starting to enjoy having someone to come home to. That I enjoy the food he cooks and our stupid routine of movies and random conversation. Like last night—he told me about his three-month phase of wanting to race supercross before he decided he didn’t want to have a career that depended on his physique. I laughed at that. As if he should be worried.

Then I privately scolded myself for thinking about his physique.

Acting completely unbothered by Preston King for the last few days has been working for me.

“Grace.” He knocks on the bathroom door. It startles me, but I pull myself together and open the door.

“Yeah?”

“Remember what we said about communication?”

I nod. “Yes, but I think that one drink was too much for me to properly”—I make air quotes—“communicate.”

The little half grin I’m starting to enjoy touches his lips.

“You know that sounds tempting, right?”

“How so?”

“Like, I have a lot of questions you’d never answer and tonight could be my night to ask them after your one drink.”

“You’d take advantage of me like that?” I tease and then lean on the doorframe.

Preston’s eyes slowly take me in. After they travel back to my face, he grins fully.

“No. But I need you to focus on what I’m about to tell you.”

I cross my arms and stand taller so he knows I’ve entered serious mode. “What is it?”

“I have to fly back to LA in the morning.”

“What? Why?” I ask, and instantly hear the neediness in my voice. “I mean, cool. Good.”

“Yeah?” He smirks harder.