TOBY

I had no idea what time it was.

Hell, I'd been slumped in the corner of the bathroom for so long I wasn't even sure what year it was anymore.

I rubbed at my temple. My head ached like I'd been hit with a brick instead of having a few drinks. But if that was the worst of it, I could handle it. Anything was better than the world spinning around like a mess of socks in a washing machine again.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Toby?" A laugh edged Ian's voice. "You alive in there?"

I grunted. "Barely."

"Come on out, Cinderella. The ball's just about over."

Best news I'd heard all night.

My knees were rusty with the effort to drag my ass off the floor. Thirty was young, I suppose, but I was way too old to be hiding in my dental assistant's bathroom. I was a family man. A god-damn role model. I wasn't the guy who silently prayed that he wouldn't hurl his guts up on the fluffy white bathmat. I was usually the one hauling that dipshit home.

Ian was lounging against the wall beside the bathroom door. A grin cracked in his cheek when he saw me. The smug bastard was loving this. "I'm thinking six vodka shots might be your limit."

"I'm thinking my limit was three."

"Lightweight." He laughed. "Maybe we should stick to beers next time?"

"There won't be a next time."

I meant it. I was more than happy to hang up my party hat and go back to being Ian's designated driver.

I'd never been much of a drinker anyway. A couple of beers watching the game. Maybe a wine with dinner. The only time I ever came close to being drunk was at my sister's wedding. Way too many emotions and too much drama for me. I escaped most of my family's squabbling about the seating arrangements by setting up a residence at the open bar.

That got the tongues wagging. Good ol' reliable Toby wouldn't get shitfaced at his sister's wedding, would he?

I wouldn't—my sister would have ended me if I ruined her big day—but by the time the speeches rolled around, I was more than a little unsteady on my feet. I waved goodbye to the filter over my mouth that usually kept me safe and left it with the empty glasses on the bar.

But, can I just say, my speech was legendary.

People still laughed about it. My sister even had a quote framed and mounted with her wedding photos. My mother didn't laugh, though. She said I was an embarrassment. She probably just didn't get the jokes.

Kayleigh's party was a bit like my sister's wedding. A lot of emotions. Too much drama. I knew the vodka shots were a bad idea. Hell, scratch that. I knew the whole damn party was a bad idea. I never should have gone. But after hauling ass to finish another twelve-hour day, I had no gas left in the tank to fight off Ian and his 'great idea' of me tagging along.

It wasn't a great idea. It was an absolutely fucking terrible idea.

I'd been praying Gwen would shut the whole thing down. Who had a party on a Tuesday night? Instead, when Kayleigh called her, she was all for it. Have a great time. You need a break. Enjoy yourself. And suddenly, I was all out of excuses and trapped inside Kayleigh's apartment with a bunch of colleagues and a whole new bunch of problems.

The throbbing in my temple was still bothering me. I rubbed it with my palm as I fell in step beside Ian. "What time is it anyway?"

"Dunno? After ten?"

"Ten!" My hand fumbled over the back pocket of my trousers. Only my wallet. My keys. "Shit." My pulse started hammering. I patted down my chest even though I wasn't wearing a jacket. No phone. "I need to get home. Have you seen my—"

"Mate." Ian's palm clapped down on my shoulder. "Relax. I've got you covered, remember?" I didn't remember. "You're golden."

Nothing was golden. I'd already missed seeing Noah before his bedtime. I'd probably miss seeing Gwen now, too. Traffic wouldn't be bumper to bumper this late at night, but by the time I drove across town, she'd be asleep. My chest was hollow. I tried to ignore how disconnected I felt from my own life.

Ian and I didn't pass anyone on our way back to the living room. The swarms of people had disappeared. Not that it mattered. All I needed was to find my phone. I wanted out. The sooner, the better. I'd only scanned the kitchen counter and dug around in the fruit basket when I noticed Ian heading for the front door.

"Are you leaving?" He was. His jacket was in his hand. "I don't believe this! You're just pissing off?"

"My duty here's done. You're alive, and the party's over..." His eyebrow arched. "For some of us."

I might hurl after all. If Ian burned my ears with any details about his dating app conquests, I couldn't be held responsible for what happened next. Lock up your bathmats. "Can't you at least stick around to help me look for my phone?"

"Kayleigh will give you a hand. Right?" Ian's smug smirk only made the throb in my temple pound harder. "Look, I know you think you're angry, but trust me. Have I ever let you down before?"

"Yes. All the time." He couldn't be serious. After all the years we'd been friends? After all the times I'd saved his ass? Was that even a question? "Literally hundreds of times."

Ian roared with laughter. "Mate, you'll be thanking me tomorrow. You'll see." He slapped a hand on my back. "Lucky bastard."

He was out the door, and I was only just picking my jaw off the floor when Kayleigh flew down the stairs into the living room. A trash bag stuffed with cans and bottles bumped along behind her.

"Kay, you seen my phone?"

She glanced at me over her shoulder. "Oh—umm—no." She nibbled on her bottom lip. "I don't think so."

Screw this. Screw this whole night.

I kept searching. Kayleigh weaved around the living room, collecting more cans to toss in her trash bag. She chirped away about the party. I think. I wasn't really in the mood for listening. I nodded sometimes. Offered the occasional 'oh yeah'. I just wanted to find my damn phone and go home.

Eventually, I found it wedged between the sofa cushions. Huh. I didn't even remember sitting on the sofa. I tapped at the screen. Pressed a few buttons. Nothing. The damn thing was out of battery.

"Kay, you got a charger?"

"Maybe? I have a different type of phone, but check the top drawer." She pointed over to the kitchen cabinets. "There's heaps of junk in there."

I rummaged around. I didn't realize straight away that Kayleigh was beside me. She'd knotted her trash bag and left it by the door. She was peering in the drawer over my shoulder. "Find one?"

"Nah. Found some playing cards and a death star keyring." I grinned down at her. "No charger."

She sort of shrugged. Her lips curved into a slow smile. "You disappeared for a long time. Feeling better?" Her fingertips were light on my arm. "Want me to make you a coffee?"

And make this night last even longer? No thank you. I forced a tight smile. "I'm good."

"You sure?" Kayleigh's hand was on my back now. "I have your favorite."

Something about the soft stroke of her fingers over my shirt scrambled my nerves. Everything in the room was swimming like I'd downed another vodka shot. My heart was thumping. I didn't want it to.

This was... wrong. All wrong.

Kayleigh blinked up at me from under dark lashes. She seemed nervous. Skittish. Not like her. "Usually, you look all polished... and... perfect..." A small smile curled her lips until fresh nerves made her bite it back. "Tonight you're... real. Look at you with your hair all mussed up." Her finger skated over my forehead to push back my apparently mussy hair. "You're as handsome as Erec."

Oh, Christ. Not this again. The poem. I usually tuned out when Kayleigh started rambling about the tales of her beloved Erec and Enide. Maybe I should have made a stronger argument when Ian hired her and asked for a dental assistant interested in anything other than French literature. Chess. Cricket. Canasta. All boring things that made my eyes glaze over, but still more interesting than her poetry stuff.

I took a step back. "I hardly compare to your dashing knight. I'm just... you know..." My laugh was strained. "Toby the Dentist."

"You've never been just Toby. Not to me. You're so driven... and caring... and kind." Her finger traced the collar of my shirt. "You're my knight in shining armor."

Oh.

Shit.

I took another step back, but this time, there was nowhere to go. I hit the fridge. "Uh... Kay." I raised my palm to her shoulder and pushed her back—gently—like she was a kitten nipping at my hand. "I'm sorry. I think you've misunderstood—"

"I understand perfectly," she purred. "You're always finding little excuses to touch me. Always bumping into me—"

"The treatment room is cramped! I'm not always looking where I'm going. It's—shit—Kay, I'm married."

Kayleigh's chin jutted up, her gaze defiant. She was telling me that my wife wasn't a barrier for her. "Please. When was the last time Gwen took care of you?" She inched closer until her warm breath fanned on my neck. "When was the last time Gwen focussed only on you? Worried about you?"

Blood was pounding in my ears. Kayleigh was too close. And it wasn't just the way her body seemed to have coiled around mine. It was her words, too. Had I been stupid enough to say something out loud? Had I let the world hear that my relationship with Gwen was strained? That I did nothing right? That I slept more nights on the sofa than the bed because we snipped at each other so much?

"When was the last time she kissed you? Really kissed you? Made you feel like you were the only thing in the whole world that mattered?"

I tried to swallow, but there was a noose around my throat. When had I last felt like I mattered to Gwen? Not for a long time. Not since Noah was born. Maybe... not for a long time before that. She'd locked me out and I'd never understood why. The noose around my throat tightened. God, I missed that feeling. I missed that so much.

Kayleigh's arm weaved around my back, and she whispered in my ear, "I want to make you feel like that."

My pulse hammered. "Do you...?" My voice was thick. It didn't sound like me.

Kayleigh answered with a breathy laugh. It was an invitation for more, and I took it. I ignored every ounce of sense to chase the feeling of old ghosts on my lips.

I palmed Kayleigh's hip. When her breath hitched, a possessive look flashing up at me, I liked it. I dragged her closer. And when her fingertips trailed up my neck into my hair, her lips on my jaw, I didn't tell her to stop.

My nose grazed along hers, and an old, broken part of me woke up and demanded even more. So, I kissed her. And I still didn't stop. I leaned into her. I let myself feel it—enjoy it—because I needed it.

But the bitter taste of that desperate kiss burned my throat like acid. Nothing about kissing Kayleigh felt right. Her sloppy mouth all over mine was the last thing I needed.

I needed Gwen.

I forced air into my lungs. The walls of Kayleigh's apartment were crushing down on me. I needed space to breathe. I pushed her back. "I shouldn't—we shouldn't—that was—"

Her cheeks were flushed, and she tugged on the front of my shirt to pull me back. "That was perfect."

"What?" I struggled free from her claws. "No." She blinked up at me, confused, so I said it again. "No. This was wrong. All wrong." I raked a hand through my hair. The seams of my soul had split open, and guilt was already starting to spill out, hot and raw and ugly. "I need to go."

I headed straight for the door.

"Toby—wait!" I could hear Kayleigh's heels clipping after me on the tiles, but I wasn't slowing down. I wasn't looking over my shoulder. All I wanted was to escape. "What about charging your phone—"

"I'll take my chances."

Another one of my legendary drunk jokes. As if I hadn't used up all my chances already.