I lie in bed, wide awake.

The beat from the music is drifting through the neighborhood.

The party has moved from Carol’s house to Antony’s backyard. They are now sitting around a campfire. I don’t know who’s over there, but I can still hear Taryn’s annoying voice over everyone else’s.

My mind keeps going over Rebecca’s words about Henley tonight. And I know I should be angry at him and resentful because he has a burner phone, but . . .

He’s damaged.

I feel sad for him. I can’t imagine what it must be like to hold no hope of meeting the one. Or not even wanting to.

I thought he would have tried to talk to me tonight . . . but then, based on his crazy up-and-down behavior, I didn’t.

I mean, everything Rebecca said all makes a lot of sense.

I knew we hit it off on that first date. And I knew he liked me. Damn it, I liked him. I was so shocked when he didn’t call me.

But did he want to?

Even last weekend, we made out in the most perfect of ways, and then he acted like it meant nothing.

What happened to him to make him so closed down?

I hear Taryn’s annoying laugh, and I roll over and punch my pillow. “Go back to your ex-husband, Taryn. You’re pissing me off.”

I run around in a fluster. Joel is going to be here any minute to talk about the couch and colors, and I got home late from work.

I hear a knock at the door, and I quickly throw my clothes into the laundry hamper. “Fuck’s sake, this place is a mess,” I whisper en route to the door. I open it in a rush. “Hi.” I smile. “Come in.”

“Hello.” Joel smiles. Damn, he’s good looking. Not in a Henley-king-of-the-world way—more like a prince kind of guy.

“Would you like a coffee or something?” I ask.

“Oh yes, please. After the busy day I’ve had, I need an upper.” He follows me into the kitchen, and I make our coffees. He opens all his books on the kitchen counter and begins to flip through them. “So you liked this Hopewood line?”

“Yeah. I love it, but I don’t know if I should get a two-seater or two three-seaters.”

“Hmm.” He thinks for a moment. “Let me measure the room again.” He takes out his tape measure, and we walk out into the living area.

A knock sounds at the door.

“Who could that be?” I roll my eyes. “Excuse me.”

“Sure,” he replies as he begins to measure the room.

I open the door to see Henley standing there. “Hi.” He gives me a lopsided smile.

I frown. What is he doing here? “Hi.”

“Can . . .” He hesitates. “Can I come in?”

He only wants to come in because Joel is here.

“No, I’m busy.” I cross my arms. “Can I help you with something?”

“Um.” He puts his hands into his suit pockets. “I . . .”

I glance back into the house; I can’t leave Joel alone too long. “What is it, Henley?”

“I need a favor.”

“Like what?”

“I have a thing for work this weekend, and I need a date.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“One of my clients is trying to set me up with his daughter, and I kind of . . . told him that I have a girlfriend.”

“You want another fake date?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

His face falls. “No?”

“Hard no.”

His eyes search mine.

“Do you really think after what happened last week and the way you treated me that you deserve another fake date?”

“I was doing you a favor.” He frowns. “It was . . . you wanted the fake date?”

I lower my voice so that Joel can’t hear us. “I never wanted the fake orgasm.”

“You didn’t fake it,” he whispers angrily.

“Yes, I did,” I lie.

“You owe me.”

“I do not owe you anything, least of all my time.”

He steps back, affronted. “You’re angry with me.”

“Yes, I’m fucking angry with you,” I spit. “You didn’t talk to me all weekend, and you’re only here now because Joel’s car is out front.”

His jaw tics as he clenches his teeth. “That’s not true. I was coming over anyway. I didn’t even see his car.”

Bullshit.

I lean into him. “Let’s get one thing straight, Henley. I am not the backup plan. I am not someone you call on when there is no better option. Ask Taryn to fake-date you.”

“I don’t want to go with Taryn.”

“Tough shit. I don’t want to go with you.”

He puts his weight onto his back foot, annoyed. “So it’s a no?”

“It’s a hard no.”

His eyes hold mine, and I know he’s trying to think of something to say.

“Good night, Henley.” I close the door in his face and walk back inside to Joel. “Sorry about that.”

“Let me guess, your neighbor?”

I give a heavy sigh.

“He likes you.”

“No. Trust me, he doesn’t.”

“I’m telling you; I know when a man likes a woman. He likes you.”

“Yeah, well . . . it’s not happening.” And I really don’t want to discuss this with you. “Where were we?” I ask him.

“The couch. I think two three-seaters.”

Thursday morning, 6:30 a.m., I walk up the corridor of San Sebastian Nursing Home. My first shift at my second job has been a delight. I’m going to do three nights a month, and that should free up some funds for these stupidly expensive furnishings.

“How was it?” Sonya smiles.

“Great, actually.” I’m relieved. I had no idea what I was signing up for. “Everyone was so nice.”

I glance up the long corridor and see a familiar figure walk into one of the rooms and close the door behind them.

Was that . . .

“Who was that?”

“Who?”

“I just saw a man walk into the room at the end?”

She looks at her watch as we walk up the hall toward the room. “Oh, that would be Bernard’s son.”

“Bernard?”

“One of our patients.”

We stop in front of the door in question and peer through the window. Henley is dressed in his suit and laying out clothes on the bed.

I frown, confused.

“He is the most gorgeous man,” she whispers. “He comes every morning and feeds his father breakfast and gets his clothes out for the day.”

I watch as Henley smiles and chats with the old man. He cups his face in his hands and says something and then goes and gets a pair of clippers from the bathroom to help him shave.

“Breaks my heart.” She smiles sadly.

“Why is that?” I frown as I watch the pair.

“Because his father doesn’t even know who he is.”