“Yeah.” But I refused to let myself imagine Noah and I coming home to each other after a hard day—after any kind of day. My feelings for him were already veering into baffling and dangerous territory. If I let my hopes start to rise, I was bound to be disappointed, wasn’t I? He’d told me flat out what he wanted and didn’t want. We’d agreed on no expectations, no promises, no commitments. When he said, I can’t be your boyfriend, I’d replied I that wasn’t looking for one.

It had been the truth at the time. Was it still?

Nina must have sensed my unease. “Listen, forget I said anything. Noah’s personal life is none of my business, and I respect his devotion and loyalty to his family. I wish he didn’t think it had to come at the expense of his own happiness, but he’s stubborn as hell and that’s never gonna change. I’m just glad to see him having a good time with you, that’s all. He deserves it. Now let’s get you rinsed and gorgeous.”

After leaving the salon, we all went home to change, agreeing to meet for cocktails at Low Bar in Traverse City at five. Grateful for the alone time, I locked myself in my room, undressed, and lay down on my bed for a few minutes. I’d had a great day with my sisters and I was looking forward to our evening out, but I couldn’t exactly say I felt relaxed, even after all the luxury spa treatments. Something was gnawing at me, and I didn’t know how to handle it.

Had I changed my mind about what I wanted from Noah? Was I going to be able to leave here on Sunday and forget about the way he made me feel? Was I crazy to even entertain the idea that maybe—maybe—we could be something more than friends?

Or was all the fantastic sex clouding my brain? Could too many orgasms in a matter of days make you nuts? Weren’t there some sort of mind-altering chemicals that your body released when you came that made you feel good? Maybe that’s what this was. And maybe when I left and this weeklong sexcapade was concluded, my brain would go back to normal, and I wouldn’t have these weird feelings anymore. I wouldn’t be questioning things that had already been decided.

Bolting straight up, I decided that’s exactly what the situation was, and I didn’t need to worry about it. Everything was fine. I hopped out of bed, changed into my bachelorette party outfit, did my makeup, and studied my reflection in the mirror.

Sexy black blouse? Check.

Skinny jeans that showed off my butt? Check.

Beautiful lingerie worn just for me? Check.

High heels that hurt to walk in but looked fabulous? Check.

Bombshell salon hair with big, tousled curls that I’d never be able to reproduce on my own? Check.

Eyebrows waxed, eyeliner even, bruise concealed, and lips pink and shiny? Check.

I felt beautiful. Confident. Sexy. I wished Noah could see me.

Stop it, I told myself as I threw a few things in a small black evening bag. You can go one night without him. You’re not a junkie, for heaven’s sake. You don’t need a dick to have a good time. Not even if it’s Noah’s dick. His big, hard, perfect dick that feels so good and makes me come so fast and—

“Meg?”

I opened my eyes and realized I’d stopped halfway down the stairs, my feet on different steps, my hand gripping the banister. And had I just moaned out loud?

At the foot of the staircase, Sylvia stood looking up at me, her expression bemused. “Um, are you okay?”

“Yes,” I said, clearing my throat as I descended the rest of the way. “I just . . . had a cramp.”

“Aha.” She gave me a knowing look. “A cramp. Well, if you’re ready to go, Mom offered to drive us into town.”

“I’m ready.” I followed her to the garage and got into the backseat again, vowing not to think any more about Noah’s dick.

But it was really hard.

(See what I mean?)

Turns out, the Sawyer sisters aren’t very wild partiers. After cocktails at Low Bar, several bottles of wine during dinner at Trattoria Stella, and after-dinner drinks with dessert at Poppycock’s, we were done—and it wasn’t even ten.

“Are we lame?” April said as we all stood outside the restaurant waiting for Mack, who had generously offered to drive all our tipsy asses home. She stifled a yawn. “I’m pretty sure we are.”

“I can’t help it.” Sylvia yawned too. “I go to bed every night at nine o’clock. I’m old.”

“So what’s my excuse?” Frannie looked like she might fall asleep on her feet. “I’m not even thirty. But you know what I am?” She hiccuped. “Drunk.”

“I think it’s Mom’s fault,” said Chloe. “She always made us go to bed so early as kids. We never developed a tolerance for late nights.”

While they lamented our party-pooper genes, I snuck a look at my phone. Noah hadn’t texted or called, and it worried me. Granted, I hadn’t contacted him either (although I’d failed miserably at trying not to think about him), but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Moving slightly away from the group, I broke down and called him.

“Hello?” His voice sounded different to me. Quieter. More raw. Maybe he’d been asleep?

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“How was your night?”

“Okay.”

I expected him to ask about mine, but he didn’t. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

I bit my lip. “Doesn’t sound like it.”

“It was a rough day. I’m tired.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay,” I said, although it didn’t feel okay at all. “Well, I’ll let you get some sleep.”

“Where are you?” he asked, and I was relieved he finally showed some interest.

“Downtown Traverse. In front of Poppycock’s waiting for Mack to pick us up.”

“He’s driving you home?”

“Yeah. We’ve all been drinking since like, ten A.M. or something.” I laughed through a yawn. “We’re pretty much toast. Kind of pathetic for a big night out, huh?”

He didn’t laugh. Or agree. Or say anything at all. I almost thought we’d lost our connection.

“Hello?”

“I’m here,” he said. “Sorry. I’m just . . . I don’t know what the fuck I am right now.”

“You sound really down. Do you want company? I could have Mack drop me at your place.”

“Nah.”

I tried not to be too hurt. “Okay. Just wanted to offer in case you needed a friend or something.”

“I’m fine.”

More tense silence.

“Okay, well, Mack is here, so I better go,” I lied. “You get some sleep and let me know how you’re doing tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And I’m here if you need me.” I waited for him to offer something more, but he didn’t. All I could do was let him go. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I ended the call and stood there for a moment in the dark, listening to my sisters laugh and wondering what the hell could have happened today to make him act so distant and sad. Was it something at work? With his family? His ex?