Pick you up tomorrow 11:30. Terminal B near arrival screens. Text when you land.

I paused for a moment as it sank in that we would be together tomorrow.

I will. Thanks.

You’re welcome. Everything go ok?

I was a bit taken aback that she had asked about the rest of my week. We were in such uncharted territory here. While working, we texted and e-mailed frequently, but it was usually restricted to simple yes or no answers. Never anything personal. Was it possible she’d had a similarly frustrating week?

Great. You? How is your dad?

I laughed as I pushed send; this situation kept getting stranger. Less than a minute later I received another one.

He’s doing fine. I’ve missed him but am excited to come home.

Home. I noted her word choice and swallowed; my chest was suddenly too tight.

See you tomorrow.

Setting the alarm on my phone, I placed it on the nightstand and sat next to my luggage on the bed. I would see her in less than twelve hours.

And I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that.

    Twelve

Just as I’d hoped, the flight to San Diego had given me time to think. I felt loved and rested after my visit with my dad. After his appointment with the gastroenterologist put us both at ease that the tumor was benign, we’d spent time together talking and reminiscing about Mom, even planning a trip for him to come out to Chicago.

By the time he kissed me good-bye, I felt as prepared as possible considering the situation. I was nervous as hell to face Mr. Ryan again, but I’d given myself my best pep talk. I’d done some online shopping and had a suitcase full of new power panties. I’d thought long and hard about my options, and I was pretty sure I had a plan.

The first step was to admit that this problem was more than just the temptation of proximity. Being a thousand miles apart had done nothing to calm my need. I’d dreamed of him nearly every night, waking each morning frustrated and lonely. I spent far too much time thinking about what he was doing, wondering if he was as confused as me, and trying to glean every bit of information I could from Sara about how things were going back home.

Sara and I had an interesting conversation when she’d called and informed me of the status of my replacement. I’d laughed hysterically hearing about the revolving door of temps. Of course Bennett was having a hard time keeping anyone around. He was an ass**le.

I was used to his mood swings and gruff attitude; professionally our relationship ran like clockwork. It was the personal side that was a nightmare. Almost everyone knew it; they just didn’t know the extent of the situation.

I thought back often to our last day together. Something in our relationship was shifting, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. No matter how many times we said it would never happen again, it would. I was terrified that this man, who was all wrong for me, had more control over my body than I did, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise.

I didn’t want to be the woman who sacrificed her ambitions for a man.

Standing in the arrival area, I gave myself one last pep talk. I could do this. Oh, God, I hoped I could do this. The butterflies in my stomach were working overtime and I briefly worried I might throw up.

His plane had been delayed in Chicago and it was after six thirty before he finally touched down in San Diego. While the time on the plane out had been good for thinking, the seven extra hours waiting afterward had only reignited my nerves.

I stood on my tiptoes trying to get a better view through the crowd, but didn’t see him. Looking down at my phone, I reread his text again.

Just landed—see you in a few.

There was nothing sentimental about the text, but it made my stomach flip anyway. Our messages last night had been the same. It wasn’t that we said anything special: I’d simply asked how the rest of his week had gone. That wouldn’t be considered unusual in any other relationship, but it was totally new for us. Maybe there was a chance we could actually get past the constant animosity and actually be, what—friends?

With my stomach in knots, I paced back and forth, willing my mind to switch gears and my heart rate to calm. Without thinking, I stopped midstep and turned toward the oncoming crowd, searching through the sea of unknown faces. My breath caught in my throat when a head of familiar hair appeared above the others.

Get ahold of yourself, Chloe. Jesus.

I tried once more to get my body under control and looked up again. Fuck. I am so screwed. There he was, looking better than I’d ever seen him. How the hell does someone get better looking in nine days, and coming off of an airplane no less?