“Three,” he said simply, then turned and left the apartment.

Fuck me. I had failed at my first job. Shit. Jill had been good but not that good. I wanted to succeed and show these motherfuckers I could do it. Nan should have been the easiest thing I ever did. Yet she’d been the hardest damn female I’d ever encountered.

If I packed up and left, then I was giving up. I was letting them prove I was a pussy. I wasn’t a damn pussy. Nan was not going to screw this up for me. Damn her stubborn, moody ass. I’d given her notes and taken her on a romantic date. Last night was my thank you? Oh, hell no.

I had until three today. I could fix this shit. She’d love me again. Or at least she’d want me. I just needed a fucking plan. I had, oh, six hours to get one. Damn, I was screwed.

Nan

I had two texts from Major, but I was not in the mood this morning. Last night, I’d been so ready for him to leave that I’d fallen asleep downstairs during the movie. It was nice of him to carry me up to my room, but still. I just felt like Major was a waste of my time. He’d never be a Gannon, but the only man who could get me over Gannon was a Gannon.

I sat in my red silk robe on the bar instead of a bar stool, with a glass of orange juice and a Greek yogurt. It was my go-to breakfast option before I went running. My body was exhausted this morning, as if I had spent the night making love—no, scratch that—having hot, wild sex with Gannon.

Blushing, I thought about the ache between my legs and wondered if I had actually touched myself while sleeping. I thought I must have masturbated, because I did feel used. I was a little sore. I chuckled, thinking how insane I was becoming. Next I’d be role-playing in my sleep. I needed help.

I had lain in bed this morning and considered going back to Vegas and looking for him. I didn’t have many morals. Did I even care that he had knocked up a girl? I mean, I doubted he was going to marry her, and I just needed him out of my system. If I could prove that the memory was more fantasy than reality, it might help me. But then I decided I didn’t want this dream ruined. Even if it happened only while I slept, it was still mine. I still got to hold it close. He belonged to me then, and he made me very happy.

My life had been full of disappointment. I didn’t want more. If I had to find happiness in my dreams, how did that hurt anything? It was my life. It didn’t affect anyone else.

The ringing of my doorbell interrupted me, and I sighed, hating that the real world was about to enter my life and the night was truly gone now. I had to live in reality. I set my Greek yogurt down and hopped off the bar to answer the door.

It was ten in the morning. No one should be up and visiting me at ten in the morning. Didn’t they know I slept late?

I jerked the door open without checking to see who it was first, because honestly, this was Rosemary Beach, and we were safe here. Except from annoying guys like Major who were determined not to go the hell away.

“It’s early,” I said to him, unable to hide my annoyance. Had he not felt the lack of chemistry between us last night? We were as boring and uninteresting as whole-wheat toast.

“It’s time for your run. Want company?” He grinned, and I didn’t even think it was pretty anymore. I’d been ruined.

“Uh, well, I guess,” I replied, not knowing if I should just be a rude ass and tell him no or give him one last run and hope he got it that we were over.

He beamed and stepped inside. His gaze traveled down my red wrap and bare legs, then back up again, as if he was appreciating the view. “You look gorgeous first thing in the morning.”

Was he flirting for real? After last night’s awkwardness? “Thanks,” I replied, then turned to go back to my yogurt and juice.

“Got coffee made?”

Did I have coffee made? Was he still living in the last decade? “I have a Keurig, Major. I don’t have ‘coffee made,’ ” I replied with a roll of my eyes.

He laughed like I was trying to be funny and began looking for a cup. I let him search. He’d been in my house enough that he should know by now where the damn cups were. Was he seriously that stupid? “You’d think I’d know where they were by now,” he said in his happy tone.

“You’d think,” I agreed with annoyance.

He didn’t respond to my attitude or even acknowledge that I wasn’t being friendly. Which got on my nerves more.

“Are you just out to prove you can ruin whatever friendship we have left? Because I’m not sure why you keep coming around and trying. There is nothing between us.” There, I’d said it. He could put on his big-boy panties and deal with it.

Major put his cup down, since he’d finally found them after opening five cabinets. “Is that what you think? We have nothing left?”

“I know. There’s no thinking to it.”

He looked sad, but he was good at the sad thing. He used it to get his way. It also made him appear weak, and I didn’t like weak. I wasn’t weak, and I didn’t want to be around anyone who was. “I care about you. If you weren’t busy being so cold and indifferent, you’d see that we have something here. If we hadn’t had something then, you wouldn’t have been so hurt with me before. Now you just won’t forgive me and give us a chance.”

If that were true, then I could accept it and work with it. But he was wrong. Completely and totally wrong. “I was lonely. You came along, and I thought you being with me would fill that hole. It didn’t. You weren’t enough. You will never be enough. You’re weak, you love yourself too much, and you are self-centered. I can’t love that, and I can’t fill my void with it.”