"You're up late," Ro said.

We both were. Vancouver and Los Angeles were in the same time zone.

The huskiness in his voice shivered through me. Whiskey-soaked. No. Stripped down from singing.

I wished I could have seen his face but our one attempt at FaceTime after he'd left had been an unmitigated disaster. I'd spent the entire phone call deconstructing every single expression, not to mention that seeing him somewhere that wasn't with me was too hard. Too raw. The ...