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him right now. Like, in person. The Grand Hotel on Main Street is quaint, nice, and on the way to the Delightful Diner. It’s one of three hotels in Summerland, and out of those, it’s the best. Though that isn’t saying much since the worst charges by the hour.
    If he can surprise me, I can do the same to him and maybe see if he wants to have a midnight dinner while I work. It might ease his mind. Or maybe I can just make him smile.
    My stomach twists. Everything in my life is scripted—one of the reasons I loathe surprises—and that worked well until he showed up. But Grayson has been a game changer.
    The light changes, and I drive three blocks up instead of two blocks over. There it is, the hotel Ryan said Grayson was staying at. Nervous excitement makes me jittery, but I’m going to do it. It’ll be fun. Or a disaster. What if he’s sleeping? What if he thinks I’m high maintenance?
    Calm down.
    I park my car on the street as adrenaline ticks through my blood. The hairs on my arm stand up, and I stifle an excited squeal. My heart skips, and my perma-smile isn’t going away. I was far from miserable before he came home, but now I’m floating on stupid, fluffy love clouds over my… boyfriend?
    Whatever his title is, I get out of my car and wander down the street. Grand Hotel’s doors have oversized handles, and everything on the inside is the same as it has always been—shiny hardwood floors and richly colored cushions on monstrous couches. The walls are polished wood, and there’s bold wallpaper. It smells like lemons, but just a hint, a very clean-citrus scent, not heavy, artificially fragrant cleaner.
    So… now what?
    Heading to the check-in desk, it becomes clear my plan isn’t well thought out. The hotel is just going to tell me his room number?
    Hi, where’s Grayson staying at?
    Hi, I’m his… girlfriend. I swear. Room number, please?
    The front-desk girl turns around, making me groan. Jessie Spikes—like a blast from the past, it’s everyone’s favorite cheerleader from high school. I used to hate this girl and, in my head, had all kinds of bad thoughts about her whenever she was under Grayson’s attention. Petty high school BS. Karma gave it back to me hard. When I was pregnant and alone, Jessie was a relentless gossip.
    “Emma.” Jessie draws out my name, convincing me that as soon as I leave the room, she will be on the phone to blather.
    “Hi, Jessie. I was, um, hoping that you could point me to—”
    “Grayson Ford?” The bubbling exuberance in her voice can’t be contained.
    My cheeks heat, and my knotting fingers fidget. I rub my sides, suddenly aware of sweaty palms. “Yes, please.”
    “Room two oh two.” She points toward the double spiral staircase that drips in old-timey opulence.
    Well… that was easy. I would have expected a blood-sacrifice requirement for that kind of info. “Thanks. Nice to see you.”
    I head toward the stairs as Jessie waves her hand, wiggling her fingers as if she’s doing some kind of peppy cheerleader send-off.
    “Good luck,” she says.
    Good luck? How pathetic. She must think I’m here to try and win him back.
    “Right. Thanks.” I can’t shake off the years of not-so-behind-my-back chatter. Okay. No need to get all in my head. I focus on my newest favorite memory—the look on his face when he met Cally. Screw the haters.
    Room two oh two . I have no need to hide how vulnerable I am and my excitement about the future. I draw in a breath then knock.
    No answer.
    Well… I didn’t take into account he wouldn’t be here. I drop my head against the door. So anti-climactic—
    The door cracks open, and I stumble headfirst, flailing and falling like a moron into his room and landing on my hands and knees. Graceful much? Ugh. Good thing the guy already loves me. My gaze shifts from hotel-room carpet to a pair of shoes.
    Women’s shoes . The nice kind that people don’t wear to work at a diner or when they’re carting a two-year-old around