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Trace stares at me. “Why the fuck would you agree to that?”

“Because her life just blew up too, and she wanted the boundary. I’m trying to respect it.”

Colston rubs his shin under the table. “Yeah. It’s going great so far. Remind me what I interrupted in the bathroom this morning?”

I cut my eyes toward him. “Nothing happened.”

“Sure.”

Trace laughs and looks back at me. “Yeah, good luck with that whole boundary thing. I give it a week. Tops.”

He and Colston clink glasses, and I glare at them both.

Then I slump into the booth, dragging a hand over the back of my neck. “She’s… incredible. I can’t stop thinking about her, and giving her all this space when every instinct I have is telling me to take care of her is already driving me out of my fucking mind.”

Trace lets out a low whistle and sits back against the booth. “Well, godspeed, man, because you’re fighting a losing battle.”

Colston lifts his beer toward Trace. “What he said.”

I shake my head and down the rest of my beer.

Colston flags down the waitress for another pitcher and some food, and Trace finally lets me off the hook and turns toward Colston. The two of them talk shit about which of their football teams is going to be better this season.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at it under the edge of the table so the guys don’t start in on me again.

Still no text from Goldie.

I stare at the screen for another second before clicking it off.

I’m off the flight schedule tomorrow. I have an entire day with nowhere I need to be, and there is no fucking way I’m spending it sitting in Colston’s condo waiting for Goldie to decide when I get to see her again.

No, I’m going to St. Pete.

The only problem is, I don’t actually know where she lives.

That stops me for about half a second.

I know where her studio is, I know her name, and finding a property record isn’t exactly difficult.

Problem solved.

I shove my phone back into my pocket and look at Trace. “Where are you staying while you’re here?”

“The university put me up in a rental near the base.” His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at me. “You good, man? You just checked out on me.”

“Yeah.” I pick up my beer. “I’m good.”

I’m better than good.

I’m going to St. Pete tomorrow, and I’m going to start rolling that Trojan horse right through Goldie’s front door.

CHAPTER 16

GOLDIE

The warehouse my studio’s in is basically a giant industrial building with exposed brick and a roof where me and the girls throw parties. Tatum’s tattoo shop, Scout’s neon studio, and Andie’s garage all share space in this same building. It’s how we all met.

This place is loud, chaotic, and it’s my favorite place on the planet.