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You should just walk away now before you get more attached to a man you can’t have.

But I really want him.

But he’s really married.

Shut up.

“Well, text him then,” she says in her bossy voice.

I poke my tongue at her and ignore the grin she unleashes on me before turning away to serve more customers. However, I pull out my phone and send Luke a text.

Me: I know you’re busy with family stuff, but I feel like we need to talk after last night. When will you have some time?

Ten minutes pass with no reply and my stomach knots with apprehension. Jesus, this whole sleeping-together-and-then-wondering-where-the-hell-it-will-lead-next thing sucks. Maybe I should just be happy with bad internet dates and the occasional crappy lay. At least I feel like a sane person dating those guys. This thing with Luke is giving me whiplash from the constant back-and-forth my mind has been doing all day. One minute, I’m trusting in the universe and in Luke, and then the next I’m spiralling down into an abyss of why-the-fuck-hasn’t-he-called-me-yet? I’ve driven myself crazy today. I’ve turned into one of those women who count every second of every hour while desperately waiting for a man to call. And, shit, that’s not me. I don’t do that.

Argh.

Enough.

Avery comes back to me once she’s finished with her customers. “Anything?”

I shake my head. “I think I might go ho—”

The sound of my phone ringing causes us both to still.

I check the caller-ID.

“It’s Luke.”

“Answer it,” she says, madly gesturing with her hands.

“Luke,” I say into the phone, my eyes still pinned to Avery. My heart beats faster as I wait to hear what he has to say.

Please don’t let him tell me this was all a mistake.

Dude, he’s fucking married. This can’t be anything but a mistake.

“I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to call,” he says, and I cross my fingers in the way I used to do all the time as a kid when I was hoping for something to go my way.

Callie…

Why can’t you just fuck right off and let me dream for once?

Because you know this is wrong.

“Avery said you had family stuff going on. Is everything okay?” I feel shy with him, which is the weirdest thing. I’m never like this with men. But with Luke, I suddenly feel all jittery—as if I’m full of dread at the same time as hope bursts through me.

“What are you doing at the moment?”

“I’m sitting in your bar trying to figure out if last night was a one-off.” My honesty kills me sometimes, and I cringe as it comes pouring out of my mouth. But I’m not wired any other way.

He’s silent for a moment. “Because you didn’t hear from me today?” His question almost does kill me. If there’s one thing I respect the most in this world, it’s direct communication. I can’t stand doing the dance of hedging bets and not laying it all on the line from the get-go.

“Yeah… But that’s my issue, not yours. You’re obviously dealing with some stuff and if this is too much—”

He cuts me off. “Can you come over to my place?”

“What? Now?”

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