“Paris,” she manages to say. “Wow, Callie.”
When Callie finally—and most reluctantly—implies that she really ought to head, Eliza can’t tell if its relief that grips her, or regret.
Somewhere, Eliza Banks howls in agony, because this—this is wrong. She should walk away now, confident in the knowledge that their paths will never again cross. Eliza Banks knows that’s exactly what happens when childhood friends meet as adults, when they’ve grown to inhabit different worlds and settle into different lives. Eliza Banks realizes that this—this is the definition of a bad idea, and one that can’t be reversed.
But Eliza Ryder knows that meeting Callie after all these years is not akin to meeting a childhood friend.
She would try, later, to forget what happened that evening in her bedroom, but t
