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than last night. That had already been high on the fucked-up-ness scale, but this was into triple figures.
    Hot tears pressed against the backs of my eyes, and I was glad for the sunglasses. “I was pretty out of it.” A whisper was all I could manage. My hands hurt, and when I glanced down, I realized I’d dug my nails into my palms.
    “Dorothy.” I looked up to see Ben taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “Do you really think I’d have sex with you while you’re comatose? Thanks.”
    What? Something simmered in his eyes. Anger or disappointment, I couldn’t be sure. I replayed his words in my head. “We didn’t?”
    He huffed a soft noise, but it didn’t sound like laughter. “No,” he bit out. “We didn’t.”
    The tightness in my chest eased a little, but I still had no idea what to say. Nothing would redeem this situation, but I had to try. I’d hurt him; I could see that. “I’m sorry,” I offered.
    Ben shrugged. “Yeah, me too.”
    My stupid words had opened a chasm between us. The longer we sat there, silent and embarrassed, the wider the gap stretched. Soon there would be no way to bridge it, and I panicked. This was down to me. I’d messed up, and I had to fix it.
    “I wanted to.” I blurted out the words, and now that I’d found my voice, I couldn’t shut up. “I was going to ask you to stay, only I got nervous. And I really shouldn’t have opened that wine. And then I was, well, sick. I can only remember bits.” Another flash of me tossing my bra to the floor made my cheeks burn. “And now you hate me.”
    The waitress arrived then with a tray of food. She couldn’t have missed my words, but she just slid the dishes onto the table and smiled at Ben. “Was there anything else?”
    “That’s all. Thanks.”
    The polite little interchange gave me time to regroup. I’d said too much. Done too much. “I’d better go.”
    “No.” Ben’s voice was urgent. “Please don’t.” He scrubbed his hands across his face, and then replaced his glasses. “I’ve got an idea.”
    I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t get up either, and he gave me a tentative smile. “Let’s start again. Pretend last night didn’t happen. We didn’t go to the party, and I didn’t trick you about Matthew.”
    “I didn’t get drunk?”
    “Nope, you didn’t.” He paused. “We decided to meet today and go on a date after work.”
    My feet still hurt from the red shoes, and the last thing I felt like doing was going for a drink. “What kind of date?”
    He shrugged, the smile still teasing at his lips. “A first date. Maybe an art gallery or a walk on the beach. Or a movie.” His nose twitched. “Something to eat.”
    I looked at the food he’d ordered. Crispy bacon, French toast, and perfectly poached eggs. My stomach grumbled and reminded me I hadn’t eaten in what felt like forever. A tall glass held a fragrant banana smoothie, and there were two large mugs of coffee.
    A date. Could I do this? “We could start here?”
    Ben let out a whoosh of breath and the smile grew. “Yes. Why don’t we start here?”
     

Chapter Nine
    I’d been to the movies frequently in my year in Wellington, but never like this. Not with Ben holding my hand as we walked in, and then slipping his arm around my shoulder once we were settled on the couches. It was still almost daylight when we came out, and thanks to the copious amounts of water Ben had made me drink, I felt capable of a walk along the beach when he took me home.
    This time, we splashed gently through the shallows. What a difference a day had made. Tonight would be different. I’d ask him to stay, and we’d spend the night together. I had it all planned out, and when Ben gave me a kiss that made my toes curl in anticipation, I held him close. We stood on the doorstep to my house. Surely he wouldn’t leave this time?
    “I could, umm, stay tonight, if you like?”
    “ Ben .” I made myself sound shocked. “What if I said I don’t put