“Pull over.”

  I can’t. I’m on the highway.

  “Scarlett.”

  “Just forget about it, Hudson!” she explodes. “I’m not dumb. I know why you feel weird about everything that happened. I know you’re worried about the implications of us sleeping together, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve backed off, haven’t I? I’ve given you space. No more working out. No more strange little friendship.”

  What do I say to that?

  Was there ever a world in which Scarlett and I slept together and then continued on with our normal lives? Because I can’t even imagine it. Saturday night was too important. Having her for that brief moment—it upended everything.

  I’m so angry at myself for letting things get to this point with Scarlett. I went into that night with a sense of wild abandon, almost like I couldn’t rationalize the consequences. My judgment was clouded by need, a need that had transformed into a vicious never-ending pain. At least it felt like that for me.

  I can’t even comprehend how I let this relationship get so far away from me. There’s no one on earth with a tighter grip on their emotions than me. I’ve always been practical and by the book, stern, unfeeling to a fault, even. But had you asked me if that was a problem before, if I was looking to change, I would have laughed in your face.

  So then how did I get here? How have I screwed this up so badly?

  “For the record, I liked our strange little friendship.”

  This actually makes her chuckle sadly. “Yeah…me too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Scarlett

  Hudson and I put our friendship on ice, but it doesn’t mean we aren’t acutely aware of each other 24/7. I try my hardest to avoid him in the office, but it just isn’t possible. Working on the same floor, in the same department, means I bump into him all the time, and that’s not even including all the mandatory meetings about the McNealand acquisition that’s getting underway.

  The Monday after his mom’s birthday, he and I happen to end up on the same elevator first thing in the morning, and there is no way to avoid the weird tension and awkward eye contact. To make matters worse, the pack of people buffering us thins out by the 55th floor, and then it’s just Hudson and me! Alone in a stainless steel box! If it were flammable, we’d be nothing but ash, that’s how much tension burns between us.

  I stand facing the doors, holding my breath. I don’t want to get so much as a whiff of his cologne. My plan is to flee the first second I can.

  “Scarlett.”

  He says my name with this exquisite pain in his voice, like I’m torturing him, just as the doors are about to slide open, and I squeeze my eyes closed, hold my breath, and dart out of the elevator as fast as possible.

  He’s not allowed to Scarlett me! Not even now, a week into our weird exile from each other. I’d be lying if I said my anger hadn’t started to simmer down. There’s only so long I can hold a grudge. It’s harder than it seems! I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for it. I’d rather spend that time, I don’t know, stalking Real Housewives forums on Reddit.

  On top of my non-anger issues, I’m lonely! Work has been as isolating as ever. Makayla and Ramona avoid me like the plague ever since the bathroom incident, and Kendra continues to be cruel every chance she gets. Something will happen and I’ll accidentally find myself wanting to tell Hudson about it, only to get this huge lump of feelings stuck in my throat once I realize I can’t go to him for any ol’ thing anymore. I realized it’d gotten particularly bad when, last night, I had a full-blown conversation with Moira.

  “Honestly, I didn’t expect him to be good with kids. And he wasn’t in the typical sense, you know?”

  I paused there, like she was going to contribute something, then seamlessly trudged on when she didn’t miraculously develop the ability to speak English. “He wasn’t afraid to be silly with his nieces and nephew. I watched him on the trampoline in his mom’s backyard, double-bouncing Jack and Annabelle, seeing how high he could get them before Corinne shouted at him to be careful.”

  Moira just yawned and looked at me like, Sweetie, this is embarrassing. Move on.

  But I can’t move on. That’s become crystal clear. I didn’t even agonize over my relationship with Jasper like this. I mean, sure, I was hung up on his asinine assessment of my lovemaking abilities, but I never once found myself missing his company. Not like I miss Hudson’s.

  So I’m going to forgive him.

  Starting now.

  “Hi. Morning.” I pause and clear my throat. “Can we talk?”

  I’m standing at his office door first thing. There are other associates here; Jansen and Bethany said hello to me when I was in the break room just now. Lucy is at her desk too. But this is okay. I’m allowed to talk to Hudson at work. I’m allowed to bring him a cup of coffee.

  Hudson shoots to his feet, blinking through his surprise. “Yes, of course. Come in.”

  We’ve endured two weeks of separation. It feels like I’ve punished him as much as I’ve punished myself, and I don’t want to do it anymore.

  “I’m not upset with you anymore.”

  He points to the coffee I brought him. “So that’s safe to drink?”

  I smile. “Yes.”

  I venture farther into his office, and he quickly curves around his desk to take it from me. We almost get too close, but I step back and so does he. It’s a silent agreement. We both realize how important it is to keep a healthy distance.

  “I’ll apologize again if you’ll let me. I can maybe help explain why I acted like such an idiot—”

  I shake my head. “No. Let’s not go backward. I think…maybe it’ll only make it worse. I’ve thought a lot about our situation, and there are only two paths forward.”

  He listens intently, nodding for me to go on.

  “We could let this be the end.”

  His eyes widen and frustration clouds his face like a dark mask.

  “Or…” he presses, making me smile.

  “We can continue on as friends.”

  The tension in his forehead eases. “Friends.”

  “I like you too much to do the first option.”

  “I like you too,” he says, sounding relieved to get it off his chest.

  “I missed you these last two weeks.”

  His responding smile is so warm, so beautiful, I have to blink and look away, just for a second.

  “I missed you too.”

  If there’s a tightening in my chest, if his words seem to unfurl this happy little feeling inside me, I don’t think too hard on it. It’s better, I’ve realized, to not give in to my feelings for him. That road proved tricky, and I’m certain if we head in that direction again, it won’t end well. I’m not certain of Hudson’s feelings for me, but I know I don’t want to lose him for good.

  Simplifying things is better. For now.

  But if I’m being honest, I know this thing between us hasn’t been put to bed. I know it in the way his attention strays to my lips when we talk in his office. I know it when his hand accidentally grazes mine when he walks me to the door. I know it, later that night, when I wake up in a sweaty panic after having yet another sexy dream about him.

  Unfortunately, there’s no way this is over.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Scarlett

  “Listen! Listen! Is everyone listening?” The chatter dies around the table as we all look over at the tipsy brunette wearing a skintight pink dress and a coordinating pink BRIDESMAID sash. “Tonight, everyone who’s single at this table is getting laid!”

  The other women raise their champagne glasses in the air in a raucous toast to this declaration, and no one notices that my cheer is a little lackluster.

  It’s the first weekend in February and I’m out celebrating my future sister-in-law. Hannah’s bachelorette party is in Miami. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it. It took a herculean effort to get here, and while everyone else has been livin’ it up in the MIA since Thursday night, I flew in this morning and will be flying out at the crack of dawn tomorrow so I don’t miss any work. I’ll be back at my desk, fresh as a daisy come Monday morning. On top of that, I brought my laptop and toiled away like a worker bee on the flight down here. Hannah, knowing this, stopped me as soon as I walked into the beach house.

  She reached out then opened and closed her hand twice in quick succession: Hand it over.

  “Where’s your laptop?”

  I screwed up my face. “Laptop?” What is that word you speak?

  “Is it in your carry-on or your purse?”

  She started yanking my purse off my shoulder, and I stepped back and held my arms out to buy myself a little time to come up with a good excuse.

  Instead the truth spilled out. “You can’t take my laptop, Hannah. I might get an email!”

  “No! No work for twenty-four hours, Scarlett.”

  “You can’t do that. I’m a doctor!”

  “No, you weirdo. You’re an attorney and no one’s life is on the line—”

  “Mine will be!”

  “—if you don’t answer a stupid email until tomorrow morning. I mean it! It’s my wedding wish.”

  Irritated, I replied, “That’s not a real thing.”

  “It is now!” And then another bridesmaid swooped in with a can of hard seltzer adorned with a sparkly pink penis straw, and that was that. Even if Hannah hadn’t confiscated my laptop, I’m too drunk to work now anyway. I’ve consumed enough alcohol to rival a freshman fraternity pledge. These people are trying to kill me.

  We spent all day at the beach picking up as much color as we could manage. Then we headed to the pool. I think I had a sip of water then, so that’s good, but now we’re at dinner at Carbone in these slinky pink dresses someone picked out for all of us to wear. They’re from Amazon and I’m pretty sure they’re for small children because I could barely get this thing over my butt. I feel like I’m barely wearing anything at all.

  Hannah has gone for an understated bridal look: feather boa, Miss USA crown, and over-the-top bridal sash. The pièce de résistance is the blown-up picture of my brother someone has made into a necklace for her to wear around her neck. It’s huge.

  She’s just as drunk as the rest of us, as she should be. I love seeing her let loose. She’s usually as uptight as I am. Blonde, demure, and reserved, she’s an accountant at the Elwood Hoyt offices in Los Angeles, which is how she originally met Conrad. When she first joined the family, she and I bonded over our workaholic tendencies, which is how she knew to take my laptop away from me back at the house.

  Even now, if I so much as attempt to reach into my purse, she shouts at me from across the table.

  “No phones, Scarlett, or I’m going to make you do a shot!”

  One more shot and my liver will become sludge. Quickly changing course away from my phone, I hold up my hands in innocence and reveal to her the tube of lipstick I was digging for. Ha!

  She purses her lips then points her pointer and middle finger toward her eyes, back toward me. I’m watching you.

  She doesn’t really have to watch me. I’m not going anywhere. After fifteen rounds of heavenly but heavy pasta dishes, I will need to be wheeled out of here on a trolley.

  I don’t think anyone’s in a rush to get up and try to wibble-wobble ourselves out of here, which is how we got started on truth or dare in the first place. This is a game I have not played since my twelfth birthday when Lindsey Gee dared me to lick her brother’s toilet seat.

  “Truth or dare. TRUTH OR DARE!”

  “Do we have to?” Gabriella asks. “I mean isn’t that a little juv—”

  Jordy holds up her hand. “Boo, don’t be boring, Gabriella. Tell us who gave you the best orgasm of your life, and don’t bother trying to say it was your husband—we’ll know if you’re lying.”

  I crack up listening to them all together. Since the women around the table are Hannah’s friends, I’m sort of the odd man out in the group, but they’ve been so welcoming. Too welcoming.

  “Scarlett, you’re up! Same question. When did you have the best orgasm of your life?”

  A laugh bursts out of me. “I can’t answer that!”

  “Yes you can! Don’t be coy. We know you aren’t a prim-and-proper attorney all the time. Gotta take those sensible slingbacks off sometimes!”

  Hannah promises to cover her ears, and I shrug. “It was a few weeks ago.”

  Hannah frowns. So much for covering her ears…

  “With Jasper?” she asks, looking personally offended by the notion.

  I nearly spit out my champagne. “After Jasper.”

  Her eyes alight with excitement. “Who!?”

  I shake my head and look down. “Just…a one-night stand.”

  I reach for the Dom and fill up my glass, hoping that by the time I’m done, everyone will have moved on to someone or something else. But when I set the bottle back down, I look up to see eight pairs of eyes blinking at me expectantly—a parliament of curious owls.

  “This one-night stand gives you the best orgasm of your life and that’s it?” Jordy asks me. She’s the one who originally wanted to play the game, and as Hannah’s most outgoing friend, I know she’ll die before she lets me off the hook on this one.

  “Do you know him?”

  “Where’d you meet him?” someone else asks.

  I shrug and drink. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Umm, it extremely matters,” Jordy says with righteous indignation.

  “He wasn’t a stranger,” Hannah smartly guesses with a confident smirk. Her astute gaze is focused on my reddening cheeks.

  “Let’s move on!” I blurt out. “Jordy, I dare you to give the waiter your number.”

  She looks bored. “I already did that a half-hour ago.”

  Right. “Go lick the toilet seat.”

  The more I want to put the topic to bed, the more they want to resurrect it. I apparently look guilty as hell.

  “Do you have his number in your phone right now?” Jordy asks.

  At this point, lying is getting me nowhere, so I answer truthfully, hoping the karmic boost will help me out of this. “Yes.”

  I shamelessly added it from the company directory the morning before we slept together. I wanted to be sure I had it saved in case he needed to change or cancel our plans. Oh my god, I’m pathetic!

  “If you called right now, would he answer?” Hannah asks.

  “Yes.”

  I know without a shadow of a doubt if I called Hudson, he’d answer.

  Jordy claps her hands now, drawing the attention of everyone at our table and the surrounding tables. Management wants us out of here yesterday.

  “Let’s call him!” Jordy suggests.

  “Let’ssss not.”

  I think my Ss will be convincing enough, but not for Jordy. “Oh, we really have to. We have got to let this man know he gave you an orgasm to end all orgasms.”

  I’m tipsy enough that I can’t immediately remember why that would be a bad idea. It seems like Hudson should know the truth, right? I’d want to know if I were him.

  “Call him! Call him!”

  The chant carries around the table until I feel like the entire restaurant is looking at us. I hate all the attention.

  “Okay! Oh my god. Stop. I’ll do it if you all just stop.”

  I reach into my purse and get my phone. My hand trembles as I try to come up with some excuse to get out of this now that I’ve already agreed to do it. I could say my phone’s dead, but Jordy’s sitting right next to me and she can clearly see it’s alive and kicking.

  “You know what? I just realized maybe I don’t have his number.”

  “Boo!”

  “Don’t be a coward!”

  “Call him!”

  “You don’t have to,” Hannah tells me from across the table, trying to protect me from her friends. “But if you don’t, I will.”

  Some sister-in-law she is!

  It takes me longer than normal to figure out how to navigate to my phone’s contact list. The champagne has fully gone to my head, and I laugh as I run through a list of Hs that seems a mile long. “Oh my god, Ms. Higgins! She was my favorite AP art teacher—”

  “Don’t get sidetracked!” Jordy snaps.

  Finally, I reach Hudson’s name, and without a moment’s hesitation, I press call and hold the phone to my ear. Everyone’s grinning and whispering excitedly as the phone rings…and rings. Oh my god it’s going on forever. Slowly, my initial zing of adrenaline dwindles down to nothing.

  I hang up just before it cuts to voicemail. A pang of sadness fills my chest and I try to shake it off, though I know it’s futile.

  “There, I tried. He didn’t—”

  My phone screen lights up with an incoming call.

  Hudson.

  I feel lighter than air. I might float away. His name alone sends a fissure of excitement down my spine.

  “Oh shit! He’s calling back,” Jordy tells the table. “Shh! Shh!”

  She quiets everyone just as I answer. I’m smiling like a girl absolutely smitten over a man who has confused and annoyed and intrigued her for the better part of four months.

  “Hello?”

  “Scarlett. Hey.” He sounds sort of in awe. “Did you just call me?”

  I hadn’t realized how much I missed his voice. Not just a lot, but a lot a lot.

  I look up at Hannah’s friends as they wave their hands encouragingly.

  “I did…”

  He waits for me to go on, and I register how noisy the restaurant is in the background just when he asks where I am.

  “Miami.”

  “Miami?”

  His shock makes me laugh. “For Hannah’s bachelorette party.”

  He hums in understanding.

  “And I’m at the dinner table with all the bridesmaids right now.”

  “Hi!”

  “Whattup!”

  “Hiii!”

  They all lean in and bellow into the phone, making him laugh.

  “So you’re at a bachelorette party? Got it.” A brief pause ensues, then, “Why the call?”