Sex, Lies and Midnight. Tawny Weber

kind of guy.”

      “But—”

      “Look, I’ve got to get back inside.” Clearly torn between running away in a commitment-phobic hurry and being a polite date, his gaze bounced between the door with its freedom, and her face. “Can you… Um… I need to go.”

      She debated trying to save the situation, but realized it was pointless. She couldn’t lie. She didn’t feel strongly enough about him to take things to the next level. Not even to save her father.

      “I’ll see myself home,” Maya said, her words as heavy as her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it.”

      “It’s not you,” he claimed.

      Before he could pitch the worn-out spiel, she waved him away. If she hadn’t been so upset already, the speed at which he gratefully scurried off would have done serious damage to her ego.

      This sucked. Swearing she could feel the wind from Dave’s speedy retreat, she paced the cement walkway of the atrium. With its impeccable timing, her phone chose that second to chime. Like a reluctant witness to a train wreck, she forced herself to look at this round of horrible text news.

      I told everyone you’re coming. We’re all so excited to see you. I’ve even got a date for you on your first night home. We’ll double.

      “Just shoot me, it’d be less painful,” she muttered.

      “But such a waste.”

      Shocked, Maya jumped and gave a tiny scream. She spun around, one hand trying to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest, and glared.

      Simon Harris. The Southern-fried sex muffin.

      “Where’d you come from?” she asked, desperately hoping he hadn’t overhead Dave’s rejection.

      “I saw your friend inside,” he told her, tilting his head toward the bar where Dave was back, chatting with his friends. “You seemed upset earlier, so I figured I’d check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

      He was so sweet. Maya sniffed, trying to contain the emotional overload of the night.

      “So how about I cheer you up?” he said in that jovial tone guys used to try and get past emotional scenes. “What are your holiday plans? A big family get-together, I’ll bet?”

      That was the wrong thing to say, though. His words were the last straw. Tears gushed, frustration tangling with a sudden burst of homesickness.

      Looked like the night actually could get worse.