When Sunny still hasn’t come down a minute later, I pull up her contact and hit the microphone.

“I’m at your front door.”

I must not enunciate properly because front door is autocorrected to foghorn. I hit the doorbell a second time, erase the message, wait for Andy to stop barking, and try again, speaking more slowly this time. I can’t dictate for shit when I’m tired. This time front door comes up looking mostly right. There aren’t any red lines, so I press send.

I get a message back almost instantly.

WTH? Y r U at frat dorm?

I read the text and frown, then hit the text-to-speech function so I can listen to it, because it’s half random letters instead of words. I know she’s angry, but I should be able to make things better. I’m pretty decent at cleaning up messes, except for when I was traded to Chicago. There wasn’t anything I could do to cover up that one. The pictures of me and the coach’s niece in the bathroom stall went viral in a hurry.

The sexy British chick in my phone reads the words frat dorm back to me instead of front door. Jesus. That’s what I get for not listening before I send something.

Sory. Attocorect. Front Door. Please let me in.

I figure short and to the point works better.

I crouch down and open the mail slot. Andy stops pacing and sticks his nose through the hole. “Hey, buddy. Can you go get Sunny for me and bring her down here? Go get Sunny. Go get ’er. Go on.” He runs to the stairs and looks back at me. “Good boy. Go get her for me. I got more treats if you bring Sunny.”

He turns toward the stairs and barks a few times, then runs back to the door and sticks his nose up to the mail slot.

“Ya gotta get ’er.” It only takes a little more coaxing before he finally runs up the stairs. But he comes up and down twice more without her, so I ring the doorbell and knock.

Sunny’s light on her feet, so the only way I know she’s coming down is because she yells, “For doody’s sake! I’m coming. Stop it, Andy! I’m answering the door.”

I grin. Sunny doesn’t swear. It’s fucking adorable.

The light in the front foyer turns on, and the door swings open. Andy rushes me, jumping up so his paws are on my shoulders and his nose is level with mine. I don’t turn away when he licks my face.

“How’s my buddy?” I scratch behind his ears. “Good boy. You’re a good boy.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out a treat. He gets into position, sitting on his haunches with his nose in the air. I set the treat on the end of his nose. He adjusts his stance but waits until I give him the go ahead. Then he flips it up, catching it in his mouth.

Sunny stands at the threshold, looking unimpressed, one hand propped on her hip. Titus hides behind her ankles. There’s a good chance he’ll pee on the floor if he gets too anxious.

Sunny’s sandy blond hair is lighter than the last time I saw her, with streaks so pale they’re almost white. It’s pulled up into a messy ponytail. She’s wearing a pair of loose shorts and a T-shirt with a unicorn in a forest on it. I’m nine thousand percent sure she’s not wearing a bra, but I’m smart enough not to stare at her chest.

Her soft, usually pouty lips are mashed into a line and turned down at the corners. Her eyes are puffy. Her sun-freckled cheeks are blotchy and red. And she’s still absolutely beautiful.

She’s been crying. It’s my fault.

“It’s too late for Andy to have treats.”

“I’m sorry.” I shift from one foot to the other.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re not forgiven.”

“It was just a couple of cookies.” Andy sits on my foot and nudges my pocket with his nose. There’s another biscuit in there, and he knows it.

“I don’t care about the dog treats!”

“Right. Of course. I’m sorry I missed my flight. I got the time wrong. I thought I was supposed to fly at nine, not six. My phone fell in the toilet, so I couldn’t check to make sure. We had to put it in a bag of rice for most of the day to dry it out. The rice worked, though, so that’s good, right?” I get silence, so I tack on, “Amber’s on vacation, and you know how I am with dates and stuff.”

Her jaw tics. Nothing I’ve said seems to be making this better. If anything, she looks angrier since I started talking.

“Andy, inside.” She has to say it twice more and snap her fingers before he obeys. For a second I think this means she’s going to let me in, but she widens her stance and bars my way with her arm across the jamb.

This is going to take way more than a sweet talking to get out of. I should’ve had one of the gifts Amber picked up in my hands. Like the basket of organic treats—that would’ve been smart. Even flowers and chocolate, or that chocolate substitute Sunny eats, would’ve been helpful. Instead I have myself and my mouth to fix the problem.

“You think I’m upset because you’re a few hours late? I expect you to be late. I don’t think on time even exists in your world.”

“Well, I—it’s not . . . I try to be on time. Amber’s away.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Your PA being away is not an excuse, Miller, and it doesn’t explain the hooker bunnies hanging all over you, snapping their selfies today!” I think she’s mixing up the term hockey hooker, which Vi taught her, with puck bunnies.

Usually when I deal with a jealous honey, I say a few nice things and smooth it all over. Orgasms work well. Lots of them. I need a different strategy this time. Sunny isn’t in this for the sex. Instead of digging myself out of this hole, I say something stupid, proving words definitely aren’t my forte.