Page 61 of The Quirky Vet

Any doubts or uncertainty I had about what I did or didn't feel for him are now a thing of the past.

Maybe the answer was right in front of me all along but I was too scared to notice it, to acknowledge it, to express it.

But it's clear as day now.

There's no way for me to deny it any longer—I'm in love with Fitz.

I drag my hand through my hair and release a pent-up breath. I was an idiot to think I could have no-strings fun with Fitz.

There are strings.

So many freaking strings.

Explains why my stomach is churning and I'm tied up in knots, pacing back and forth in the hotel room like some jealous, insecure boyfr?—

No. No. Nope.

Not even going tothinkthe word.

I'm getting way ahead of myself here.

Fitz and I are best mates who happened to get married, are only staying married because of some weird clause in Gramps's will, sometimes make out, and have, on one occasion, exchanged handies in the shower. I have no claim on Fitz. He's a free man and can act accordingly.

I'll just drop by her place, grab my stuff, and then we can go out.

It was nice of him to say that, but as soon as I was alone, I immediately felt guilty. Here I am, solely focused on what I'm feeling and what him going to see her means for me, and I haven't really given any thought to Erin's feelings.

She's probably been going through it.

I'm sure she loved Fitz and has some unresolved things she may need to get off her chest. Or the time apart might have made her realise she still has feelings for him. Maybe she's even changed her mind and is open to moving to Scuttlebutt for the sake of their relationship.

"Which I am totally fine with," I repeat to myself over and over, each time trying to sound more believable. I stop pacing and stare at myself in the mirror. The truth is ugly, but I have to say it aloud. As I stare into my own eyes, the words fall from my mouth. "I would totally not be fine with that."

I whip around and start pacing again, careful to steer clear of the mirror. There's only so much self-reflection I can take at one time.

I stub my toe on the edge of the bed and start hopping, clutching my foot. "Stupid fucking bed," I cry out. Once my foot stops throbbing, I lower it to the carpet and take in the next issue I can obsess about.

The one-bed situation.

When we arrived, Fitz dropped me off at the lobby, so I checked in and took our two bags to the room while he went to see Erin.

The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the room was the one giant king-size bed.One.

As in singular.

As in we're going to have to share a bed for the next three nights since the sofa in the room is about half our size so not an option.

I did call reception to see if we could switch to a room with two beds, but the lady said that since the hotel is fully booked due to some big concert, there was nothing she could do.

I wasn't exactly disappointed when she said that, just like I'm not exactly mad about the situation in the first place.

I'm just a little…on edge.

Maybe it's the Erin thing, or maybe it's the dawning realisation that thinking and fantasising about moving things to the next level is one thing and taking that bold leap is another thing entirely.

What if he hates it?

What if I hate it?