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  Bo tried hard not to roll his eyes. He was fifteen years old, and Jennifer had driven them. He’d really thought he was something back then, taking out the hottest girl in the junior class, him being a sophomore.

  She moved closer to him. “You remember what we did later in the passenger seat of my Camaro?” An evil grin widened her face. “You didn’t even make it out of your Levi’s.”

  He wondered if it was possible for this day to get worse.

  Jennifer’s attention went to the door behind him. “Well, looks like your desperate tourist is back for more. Just take your ass back home, bitch.”

  Bo turned to find Maya walking through the doorway followed by her sister. His stomach flopped around like a fish out of water. Maya marched up to him, glancing between him and Jennifer. Finally, she held out her hand. “Hello, I’m Maya. I believe we met earlier this week.”

  Jennifer blinked, looking taken aback, and then glanced her up and down. “You’re still here?”

  “Yep, for…” She looked down at her wrist, which was bare, and then patted her pockets, coming up empty. He held his phone up so she could read the time. “Eight more hours. Thank you,” she said with a polite smile that quickly turned into a glare.

  Jennifer moved even closer to Bo, making his insides itch. “Well, we’ll sure hate to see you go.”

  Meade walked over to Bo, arms out wide like they were old friends. “So good to see you again,” she said, hugging him and sort of inching her way between Bo and Jennifer, then she turned to Jennifer and held out a hand. “I’m Meade.” Jennifer reluctantly stepped backward, looking caught off guard. “You want to do a shot?” Meade asked her.

  “Okay?” Jennifer said like it was a question.

  Meade turned back around to Maya. “What are we having?”

  “Red hot shots,” Maya said, not missing a beat, but with a little sway. She steadied herself with a hand on his knee.

  He hadn’t seen her like this. Even the night at Sebastian’s when they’d done shots, she maintained her collected and in-control demeanor the whole night. “You want to sit?” he asked.

  She pulled her hand off his knee like she suddenly realized it was a hot burner. “No. I’m fine to stand.”

  Chase walked up. “There’s my favorite northerner, well, second favorite.”

  Maya went to hug Chase and sort of fell into him. He held her up steady though, and didn’t let go. Meade turned around, and blinked. “Hel-lo.”

  “Meade,” Maya said, looking like she was blinking herself awake. “This is Chase. Felicity’s guy, so don’t even think about it.”

  “Damn,” Meade said, handing him a shot. “Red hot?”

  “Trying to quit. But don’t let me stop you.”

  Meade handed the shot to Maya, gave one to Bo, and then passed the last one to Jennifer. “To those who wish us well.” She smiled at Jennifer. “And we all know where the rest can go.”

  Jennifer took the shot, the whole time eyeing Meade, who didn’t back down an inch. Bo liked her already. Maya took the shot from Bo’s hand and knocked it back. He looked at Chase. “Did she just do both of those?”

  Maya put her hands on her hips. “Yes, she did.” She pointed at him. “I came here to say something to you, Bo Harrison.”

  Bo glanced around for somewhere they could talk, preferably near a trashcan or bathroom in case Maya needed to puke. “Bobby, give me the key to the storage room.”

  “It’s open.”

  He took her hand and she snatched it away from him, so he motioned the way so he could follow behind her in case she needed help staying on her feet. Two shots of red hot on top of what she’d clearly already had were a recipe for disaster.

  He opened the door to the storeroom and stepped inside, stopping short as she turned back toward him. He held her in place before she could fall backward. She stepped back, holding up both hands. “I’m fine.”

  “Okay.”

  She glared at him, her blue eyes glassy and red. “You’re an asshole.”

  He couldn’t keep his lip from quirking up in a grin. It was just so uncharacteristic of her. He wondered if being around Meade all day had tweaked her personality a little. She seemed to be Maya’s polar opposite. Maya pointed at him until her finger was touching his bottom lip. “Don’t do that cute smile. I hate that thing.” He tried to straighten his expression, but, of course, now all he could do was smile. “Stop it,” she said, but without conviction, starting to look defeated, or real drunk, he couldn’t tell which.

  “Okay,” he said. “What’d you come here to tell me?”

  “You can’t do what you did earlier today.”

  “What’d I do?”

  She pursed her lips, blinking hard. “You took yourself away from me, just like that.” She tried to snap, but it was a misfire.

  “I didn’t want to get in the way of you and your sister.”

  “You just can’t do that. You can’t decide for both of us when this is over. We should decide that together.”

  He put his hands on her waist, his heart breaking all over again. “I’m sorry. I thought I was helping.”

  She shoved his hands away. “You weren’t helping. You could have come to the bonfire at least.” She blinked hard, her eyelids becoming droopier.

  “It was too hard. I needed to make the break, clean.”

  She stepped closer, hands on his chest. “What was so hard about it?”

  He looked down into her sleepy eyes, the emotions of the week building in his chest, the attachment he had to her seeming unbreakable, the idea of losing her making his insides crawl. Her head dropped to his chest and he ran his hand up and down her back, taking in the scent of her hair like it was his last breath before being locked in a cell for the rest of his life.

  She made a noise resembling a snore and he let a huff of air out. “Because I fell in love with you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Maya,” a soft but deep voice said. “Maya, darlin’.”

  Bo. It was Bo’s voice, except it wasn’t.

  “Maya, sweetie.” A touch on her arm had her blinking awake. She sat up straight at the sight of woman with dark, straight hair sitting on her bed. Maya grabbed for the covers, but a glance downward revealed her to be completely dressed, in Bo’s T-shirt and boxers.

  “I’m Shayla. Bo’s sister.”

  Maya glanced around the room, Bo’s room. Flashes of the prior night’s catastrophe at the bar populated her aching brain, and her stomach felt queasy, her very empty stomach, which chose then to let out a roar. The noise was so loud that they both looked at it.

  “Are you a coffee drinker?” Shayla handed Maya a steaming mug.

  “Um, not usually.”

  “Now might be a good time to start. Felicity and Meade are on their way.”

  Maya searched the nightstand and bed for her phone. “What time is it?”

  “It’s nine-thirty. They were trying to give you as long as possible, but Felicity needed to get on the road. She’s got her mother’s party tomorrow, and you’ve got a company picnic. If you’d like to sleep in, we can look at flights, but—”

  “No. I mean, no thanks. I um. I just need to…” Maya had no clear thought process at the moment. She narrowed her gaze at Shayla, who was quite possibly the most beautiful woman Maya had ever laid her eyes on outside of television and movies, even sitting there with wet hair and not a stitch of makeup on. Her skin was olive like Bo’s, her eyes dark like his, her cheekbones high and prominent. She looked so much like Bo and sounded like him as well, and she was here, sitting on his bed. Her confused brain started to register some sort of minor attraction level that made heat rise through her chest and up through her neck. Maya drew her hand there to cover the color. “Is Bo here?”

  “No, darlin’, I’m sorry. He had a seven o’clock tee time. He wanted to cancel but I told him I’d wake you up when it was time.”

  Maya forced a smile, tugging at her neck. “Thank you.”

  “Yo
u’re a good two or three sizes smaller than me, but I’ve got this T-shirt and leggings you can wear home if you want some clean clothes.”

  Maya glanced around. “Um, do you know where my clothes are?”

  “Yeah, they’re in a bag, tied up tight on the kitchen table. I was going to wash them, but I guess they’re dry clean only?” She gave Maya a curious look.

  “Oh, yes. So they’re…dirty?”

  Shayla tilted her head with a crooked smile meant to be comforting. “Yeah, you puked a bit when you got out of the car here in the driveway, apparently. I missed that part.”

  Maya dropped her forehead into her hand, her whole body ill at ease. Mortified didn’t begin to cover it. She faced Shayla head-on. “Do I need to clean anywhere before I leave?”

  “No, we got it already. Most went directly in the toilet in there.”

  She imagined herself vomiting in Bo’s commode. “Bo was here for this?” she asked, knowing and fearing the answer.

  Shayla smiled. “Who do you think held back your hair?” She patted Maya on the knee over the sheet. “I’m gonna let you get showered. They’ll be here soon.”

  Maya took the clothes. “Thank you for these. If you’ll give me your address, I’ll launder them and mail them back to you.”

  Shayla waved her off. “The shirt’s a freebie, and I’ve got about eight pair of black leggings. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything else.”

  Maya waited until Shayla was all the way out of the room before she allowed herself to fully bask in the humiliation. Fueled only by the fact that her friends were motoring their way to her as she sat there, she pulled herself out of the bed and made her way to the shower.

  As she cleaned her body, she considered how different the last shower she’d had in Bo’s bathroom was. They’d been lathering each other’s naked bodies and giving each other orgasms, and now she was washing puke out of her hair.

  She dried off and put on the leggings and T-shirt, feeling as ridiculous as she looked. She’d never owned a pair of leggings, much less worn one, though she was grateful to have them. She stripped the bed and brought the sheets out to the living room. “Are you okay for me to start these now?”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna be here for a while.” Shayla walked toward her. “Give them here. I’ll start them.”

  “Thank you,” Maya said. “Do you know where he keeps the clean ones?”

  “I’ve got it. I don’t have anything else to do. Grab some cereal or Pop Tarts out of the pantry if you want to get something on your stomach.”

  She glanced around the living room, looking for anything else of hers while Shayla started the sheets. If there had been any sort of door open for a relationship between her and Bo, long distance or otherwise, Maya had completely destroyed that possibility. Shayla met her back in the living room with a polite smile.

  “Do you know if I have a purse or anything?” Maya asked.

  “I don’t think you have anything, darlin’. I don’t see a purse anywhere, and I’m pretty sure you don’t have a phone here.”

  Maya nodded, the sound of tires crunching gravel saving her from further embarrassment. “Well, that’s them, I think.”

  Shayla glanced out the living room window. “Looks like it.”

  Maya swallowed hard and faced her. “Words can’t describe how sorry I am about all of this.”

  Shayla waved her off. “It’s nothing. I’ve been there.”

  “No, I don’t think you understand. I haven’t, ever. I’m always completely in control. But this week, I’ve lost my mind, I think.”

  Shayla winked at her. “My brother has a way of driving people to drink. Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

  Maya smiled, Shayla’s charms working on her. “Thank you, Shayla. I really wish I could have met you under different circumstances.”

  “Maybe we will someday.”

  Maya wished like anything that was true. “I hope so.”

  Shayla opened her arms, and Maya hugged her close to her chest, Maya wishing there was some way for the two of them to become friends, but knowing that was impossible.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Maya pulled away. “There’s my ride.”

  “Be safe,” Shayla said.

  “Thanks,” Maya replied and left Bo’s house for good.

  Walking up the front steps to his house, Bo had the stupid hope that Maya would still be there, but of course all he found in his living room was his sister.

  “Don’t look so excited to see me,” Shayla said.

  “How did it go this morning?” he asked. All he could think about all day was Maya meeting Shayla and him not even being there for it.

  “Good. She’s not at all what I expected.”

  He smiled, collapsing in the armchair. “Right?”

  “How’d you land a woman like that?”

  He pointed at his chest. “My Southern charm.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Your Southern bullshit.”

  “Hey, my charm is natural.”

  “So, why are you letting her get away from here?”

  “How am I supposed to keep her here?”

  “Oh, your stupid charm wasn’t enough?”

  He messed with a spot on the armrest. “She’s got a big job up in Indianapolis she’s starting Monday. VP job.”

  “Mmm hmm. And you helped her prep for that the weekend before by getting her so wasted she had to hug your toilet all night.”

  “I had nothing to do with her alcohol level.” Shayla gave him a look. “Well, not directly.”

  She picked up her mug and blew on it. “So what’s the deal? Tell me all about it, baby brother.”

  Bo did—from start to finish only leaving out the intimate details, even though they were the best part.

  “Well, damn,” Shayla said. “If I’d have known all this, I’d never have let her leave or let you play golf this morning.”

  “You’re the one who talked me into going.”

  “That’s because I didn’t want to see you put your relationship with one of your biggest clients at risk for some stupid piece of ass.”

  He pointed at her. “She’s not—”

  “I know that now. All I knew of her last night was she was puking her guts out in your bathroom. What was I supposed to think? It’s not like you’ve been available to talk to this week.”

  She had him there. He and Shayla usually talked most days. They’d barely said boo to one another this week, and that was mostly his fault.

  “I’ve never seen you like this,” Shayla said.

  “I’ve never been like this. I’ve never met anyone like her before. She makes me want to stand up straighter and do stuff to impress her. And I’m not talking about back flips off the high dive. She makes me want to grow my business and read War and Peace, and volunteer at a homeless shelter. I don’t know. This isn’t a girl who’s impressed with muscles and a wad of cash on an expensive dinner. This is someone I’d have to work to earn respect from, and goddamn do I want to do that.”

  Shayla gave him a small smile. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  He tossed up his hands. “What am I supposed to do, Shayla?”

  She put her mug on the end table. “Come on. Let’s go eat. I’ve got something to talk to you about, and it might factor in here.”

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Just come on.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Two weeks back from her vacation, and Maya’s life was still in complete disarray. Between trying to catch up on the week she was gone, starting a new job, and answering questions from the woman who’d taken her old job, she’d done nothing but work and sleep, and she wasn’t getting nearly enough of the latter.

  She set her tablet down on the desk and collapsed in her chair. The meetings were nonstop, and they only generated more work as a result of whatever they met about, but she couldn’t get the work done because she was always scheduled for another stupid meeting.

  She checke
d her phone for messages. There were plenty of them but none from the one person she still so idiotically hoped to hear from. When she first returned from the trip, she’d sat down that next day and wrote out a card to Bo and one to his sister, both thanking them for their help and apologizing for her actions. A text seemed entirely not enough, and there was no way she could bring herself to call Bo after the way she’d behaved. So she’d mailed the cards and closed the subject, except she couldn’t seem to extricate him from her brain.

  She rubbed her hands over her face as her executive assistant walked into the room. Brenda was the only thing keeping her sanity in check. She was way more qualified for Maya’s job than she was, but apparently she hadn’t even applied for it. When Maya had asked her why, Brenda had looked at her like she was a space alien and said, “No fucking way.” It was the only time Maya had heard her use a curse word in the decade they’d worked in the same office.

  “Oh, Brenda. Please tell me it’s over,” Maya said.

  “Your day?” Brenda asked.

  Maya dropped her hands onto the desk and met Brenda’s gaze, whose hair was still in a tidy bun on top of her head, not a strand out of place, makeup immaculate. “I haven’t worked out in two weeks,” Maya said. “I’ve eaten pizza four times this week. I haven’t had pizza in two years, Brenda. When do I get my life back?”

  Brenda exhaled a deep breath and sat down in Maya’s visitor chair. “This is why they pay you the big bucks.”

  “That’s great, but I can’t spend any of the big bucks because I’m always freaking here.” She splayed out her fingers. “Look at my nails.”

  Brenda winced. “I’m making you an appointment for tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be here tomorrow, on Saturday.”

  “Your nails can’t look like that, Maya. I’m not kidding. You’ve got to look pulled together. I’m making you an appointment for a cut, too. I think I’ll bring someone in here to the office tomorrow. The company will pay.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course. You’ve got a big meeting on Monday with the team of executives from West Coast Burrito. “You can’t look like this then.”