Free Nice Girls Don't Ride by Roni Loren

smart.”
    He sniffs. “Yeah, you two would’ve gotten along well.”
    I sigh and lift my head. The room is already brighter than it was a few minutes ago. “The sun is up. Time for things to start turning back into pumpkins.”
    He tucks my hair behind my ears and cups my face. “Is the princess calling last night a fairy tale? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to star in one of those.”
    “So you usually just stick with starring in porn, then?”
    He laughs and kisses me. “Well, there was some of that, too.”
    “True. But seriously, thank you. I had an amazing night.”
    “Back at ya, gorgeous. But before you give me my send-off, how about some breakfast? I cook a kickass French omelet.”
    “You don’t have to—”
    “Shut up,” he says and plants another kiss on me. “I’m cooking for you. No way you can trust the food at your place. The Evil Roommate probably sprinkled it all with rat poison.”
    “You just want to show off your mad cooking skills.”
    “True that,” he says, herding me into the kitchen. “My ego needs feeding. Prepare to be stunned and amazed.”
    I smile. Because I’m already there. Stunned. And amazed. And a little sad now.
    Because he’s not mine.
    And this is good-bye.
    At least it’s a really good omelet.

Chapter 9
    Monroe
    There’s a BMW in the driveway when I pull in front of Natalie’s house. She lets loose a slew of colorful language from behind me. And I know immediately whose car it is. I want to cruise away and take her back to my house. Keep her from this. Keep her with me.
    But, of course, I can’t. I’m leaving in a few days, and she has her own life to live. I’m not supposed to want to keep her. That’s not what this is about. And she made that clear when I asked her to spend the day with me today. I could already feel her shutting me out, closing that chapter of her life where my name appears on the pages. I was her wild-night adventure. Now it’s done.
    I park at the curb. “Do you want me to go in with you?”
    She releases a breath and presses her forehead against the back of my shoulder. “No, that’ll just make it worse. Maybe he just slept here with Rebecca to rub it in my face. As if I give a shit.”
    “You don’t have to go in there, you know. You can hang at my place until he’s gone,” I say, hating that I’m probably coming off as clingy. What the fuck is wrong with me? I don’t cling.
    “Thanks. You’re sweet¸ but I’m going to have to face this eventually. And I need to start packing. I’ve only got a few days to figure out if I’m finding a new place or heading home.” She gets off the bike and hands me the helmet.
    “What do you think you’ll do?”
    She gives me a half-smile and slips out of her heels on the sidewalk. “I have no idea. Maybe I need to be like you and say fuck it all and find a beach somewhere.”
    “Or you can just come to mine.” The words are out before I realize it.
    She stares at me for a second, looking a little dumbfounded, then seems to shake free of it with a quiet laugh. “Right. And interrupt the slew of bikini-clad girls that will be lined up for your entertainment? Even I’m not that mean.”
    “Well, you’d be required to stay in a bikini for at least fifty percent of the day. So I wouldn’t need that line.” I don’t even know what I’m saying. A summer of half-dressed women is exactly what I’d had in mind for my vacation. But suddenly, that fantasy seems completely lame and . . . boring.
    Natalie reaches out and touches my jaw. “You don’t have to do this, you know? Make me feel better. I’m all right. I know what last night was.”
    I grab her hand and decide what the hell, why not be honest? What do I have to lose? Bluebird on the loose. Give chase. “I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m being serious. If you’ve got no one counting on you for the summer, you could come with me. Creative writing is your thing, right? Instead of being stuck in one place