It’s hard to focus on her words with all the feels going on. I let go of her hand and shove mine in my pockets to stop from hugging her, and maybe rubbing up against her since that’s what my dick wants me to do. “Which is what?”

She ducks her head again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “To be with you.”

“What about Bushman Tiny Dick?”

“What?”

“Kale.”

A door opens somewhere above us, the metallic clang a reminder that we don’t have much privacy. This is a much bigger conversation than a few minutes in a stairwell.

“I don’t want to be with him.”

“But you let him take you back to Guelph.”

“Because Alex insisted.”

“You were the one who said you should leave.”

The patter of feet coming down the steps halts our conversation. We move aside to let the couple pass.

Sunny waits until the sound of another steel door opening and closing confirms we’re alone again. “I didn’t want you two to fight anymore. You’re both hotheaded. I made a lot of mistakes that day.”

Another door opens and the sound of male voices filters through the stairwell.

Sunny sighs. “How long are you staying in Toronto? Can we talk after your visit with Michael?

“I have to be back at the airport around six thirty.”

“That early?”

“I have meetings in the morning.” I regret already that I didn’t plan to stay the night, and that I didn’t call her before I came.

“I could drive you to the airport,” she offers shyly.

“That might work.”

“Only if you want me to, though.”

“Sure. That’d be good. Then we can talk.”

“That’d be nice.” Sunny bites her lip and takes a step closer. “Can I hug you?”

“I guess. If you want to.” I open my arms, and she moves into the empty space, clasping her hands behind my back and pressing her cheek against my chest.

I’m already sporting a semi—maybe a third of the way hard. She can’t feel it yet, but if we stand here long enough, she definitely will. She smells like sunshine and that mint shampoo she uses.

Another door opens somewhere below us, and we break apart. Why don’t people use the damn elevator?

“We should go get those snacks.” I open the door and usher Sunny out ahead of me. The jeans look fantastic on her ass. I wish she wasn’t so easy to look at and I didn’t care about her so much.

We spend the next two hours hanging out in Michael’s room, talking about camp and the upcoming fundraising game. Sunny’s quieter than usual, but Lily has all sorts of questions, and she offers to help out however she can, especially since we’re holding it in Guelph, I think my Dad must have used some of Waters’ connections to make it happen. It’s nice that she and I finally seem to be okay with each other. When I tell her Randy’s going to be playing with me in the game, she gets all blushy and flustered.

Once treatment is over and Michael’s mom has taken him home, we all pile into Lily’s beat-up Honda civic.

“Can you take Miller and me to Alex’s condo?” Sunny asks.

“Sure.” Lily smiles from the front seat.

“You talk to Randy lately?” I ask as we crawl through the streets of Toronto toward the lakeshore.

Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel and a flush creeps up her neck to settle in her cheeks. “He called me a few days ago.”

“He did!” Sunny shrieks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I missed the call. He left a message.”

I keep my mouth shut, but when I get back to Chicago I’m definitely going to mention something to Randy. I think he’s way more hung up on Lily than he wants to admit. I don’t want him to pull his usual crap where he gets involved and then bails. And not just because it’ll cause problems for me and Sunny—that ex of Lily’s seems to be a big douchey problem. She doesn’t need any more.

After forty-five minutes, Lily drops us at a huge condo building. It’s not the distance but the traffic that made the ride take so long. Since traffic always sucks here, we’ll have to hit the road right away. At least we can talk and drive.

First Sunny takes me up to Waters’ condo on the top floor of the building. The space is massive, boasting a sweet view of Lake Ontario. It’s not a lake anyone wants to swim in, according to Sunny. Apparently pollution means going for a dip could result in extra arms growing out of funky places. I’m not sure if she’s serious or not, but I’ll take her word for it.

She lifts a set of car keys from a hook by the door. “I wish you didn’t have to go so soon.”

“Yeah. Me either.”

“You could catch a later flight.” She peeks up from under blond lashes.

“Is that what you want me to do?”

She flips the keys over in her hands. “Only if you want to.”

We’re here now. We might as well have the conversation I’ve been stupidly avoiding. I call Amber. She checks into alternate flights. There are only two options, and neither gives me a whole lot of extra time.

“Hold on.” I cover the phone. “I can either fly out at nine thirty or ten ten.”

“That’s the latest you can stay?” She doesn’t look happy.

“That’s all they’ve got for tonight. I have meetings in Chicago in the morning.”

“Can you take the ten-ten flight?”

I nod. Amber rebooks the flight and makes sure I have the correct information. The change gives me and Sunny an extra hour; I set an alarm on my phone so we’re not late getting to the airport. Sunny rummages around in the fridge for something to drink. She finds a couple bottles of beer and some Perrier. I opt for the latter so beer doesn’t interfere with our conversation.

I flop down on the black leather couch in the living room and put my feet up on Waters’ coffee table. Sunny puts down two glasses of fizzy water and sits beside me, close but not touching.

She starts before I can. “I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I should’ve had more faith in you.”

“I can’t change the past or how often pictures are taken, Sunny. I can only take ownership of what I say and do—not the context it’s taken in, not the way the media wants to skew it. You can tell me you’re sorry and that you should have trusted me, but it doesn’t change how you handled things or give me any indication you won’t handle them the same way again.”

She tucks her feet under her and picks at a loose thread on the knee of her jeans. “So you don’t want to get back together?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She stops fiddling to look at me. “So . . .”

“I’ve been telling you from the beginning that I want this to work. That hasn’t changed for me. I just don’t know if it’s possible.” I run a hand through my hair, aware that I have to lay it all out. “What was I supposed to think when you opted to drive home with Bushman Tiny Dick over staying to talk things out with me? I get that my past is problematic. I understand that it’s going to take some time to get used to managing the media crap, but it’s not something you’re not already exposed to.”

“It never had anything to do with me directly before. The rumors were always about Alex and the hooker bunnies. This is different.”

She has a point, but so do I. “Okay. I can understand how that might have been a problem in the beginning. I know I wasn’t good about the pictures and all that stuff, but that’s changed. I’m trying to be more careful and aware. I had no idea what that car wash was going to be before I got there, and then it was too late. I need to do better about that stuff, but I can’t keep having the same argument with you, over the same issue. It gets tedious. I think I’ve been pretty damn clear about where I stand, haven’t I?”

“You have.”

“Then why all the jumping to conclusions? I don’t get it.”

She’s back to fidgeting. “I guess I haven’t been completely up front with you.”

I don’t like the way that sounds. Not at all. Maybe she slept with Bushman Tiny Dick while we’ve been on the outs. Maybe he finally gave her an orgasm with his mini-cock and my orgasm magic isn’t magical anymore. It occurs to me I’ll see her at Vi’s wedding. I’ll have to get drunk to manage, or I’ll bring a trampy date so I don’t have to go alone. I don’t have my honey list to draw from anymore and I don’t want to create a new one.