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“Not helping.” I point to her top and then my inflating dick.

She shrugs a shoulder and climbs onto the bed, throwing her hair up in an effortless bun. “First thing I could find to throw on.”

Goddamn away series.

“I miss you so much,” I say.

She smiles sweetly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “When you get back, we can snuggle all night on the couch.”

It sounds like the best idea in history, if only there wasn’t one snag. “Actually, I needed to talk to you about that.”

She sits up straighter, the collar of my shirt falling over one of her shoulders. “What’s up?”

With my dick now fully deflated, I reach over and grab some shorts, pulling them on under the duvet. “I ran into Dad on my way to the airport. He wants to meet up for dinner before he heads back to the UK. He invited you to join us with his new girlfriend, Debbie.”

“How does he know about me?”

It’s a fair question, but nothing he couldn’t work out from the media. “I think there’s a fair share of pictures online.”

She nods. “True. Do you want to go?”

I scratch at the back of my neck. “Not especially, but in my haste to make the plane, I kind of agreed to it.”

She shimmies down under the covers, and, fuck, there goes my dick again, right as Sawyer steps back into the bedroom.

“I mean, I’m okay with it if you are. If his girlfriend is going, it might not be so awkward. I guess I should get to know all of your family.”

Every time, even when the conversation is about my dad, somehow, this girl manages to make me fall just a little bit harder.

I open my mouth, the words right there on my tongue.

“Baby, someone’s calling me. Can I call you back?” she says.

I clamp my mouth shut; it wasn’t the right time anyway. “Yeah, sure.”

She blows me a kiss and disappears, leaving me staring at the call summary and running over ways I can tell her that I want the bed she’s sleeping in tonight to be permanent.

“Did, err … did that chick ever contact Kendra?”

I turn my head toward Sawyer as he scans the room service menu from his king-size bed. “Which chick?”

He crosses his feet over at his ankles and flicks the page. “She had pink hair.”

I rack my memory for what the hell he’s talking about.

Bingo.

The slightest tug of my top lip has him side-eyeing me with a warning.

“She seemed kind of stressed out, was all.”

“You’re talking about the girl who turned down your offer of a lift home, right?”

He closes the menu and throws it at me. “Don’t recall that part.”

I immediately select what I want and pick up the receiver toplace an order. “Aside from the rock-chick girl with pink hair, what do you want?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “The sirloin.”