His Three-Day Girlfriend novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: The Show

I stood in the middle of Elliot's kitchen with my face wet and my mouth slightly open, and I made myself small.

"Who are all these people?" I said.

Colin crossed the floor in three steps and took my face in his hands.

"It's all right, sweetheart. We're friends. Elliot's friends. You've met me, remember? Colin?"

"Colin," I repeated, like I was learning the word.

His thumbs brushed my cheeks.

They were warm, and gentle, and they had touched my face a hundred and forty mornings in a row.

I thought of the sticky note against my ribs and kept very still.

My phone sat in the pocket of my robe.

The recording light was already on.

"Aww, she's so confused," Poppy cooed. "She's like a little deer."

She came over and ran her fingers through my wet hair.

"You smell like the clinic, honey. All antiseptic."

"Poppy," Elliot said.

"What? I'm being nice."

Dane slumped onto the couch, still limping slightly, and lifted a bottle in my direction.

"Hey, gorgeous. No hard feelings about the coffee."

I blinked at him.

Colin popped the cork and filled four glasses.

Elliot's stayed empty on the counter.

"A toast," Colin said, and lifted his flute. "To Elliot, for taking such good care of our girl. And to Dane, for being next."

"I'm next," Dane said happily.

"To the three-day girlfriend," said Poppy. "May she never remember a thing."

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