Holding the heel of his hand to his forehead, he froze, hoping to stop the sloshing of his brain. “Josie?” The hopeful question was met with nothing but silence. And sunlight. Blinding, painful sunlight. He squeezed his eyes shut and drew deep but cautious breaths, trying to fill his lungs with precious oxygen without disturbing too many molecules. Stone still, he took stock. His hair hurt. And his knees. And he had a weird stabbing pain in the back of his thigh. He slid a hand under his leg to massage his hamstring and came up with a bright red stiletto heel. Wetting his parched lips, Greg eyed the shoe speculatively as he rubbed the ache away. “One mystery solved.” Still, the resolution wasn’t the one he’d hoped for. Sliding his hand over the rumpled sheets, he scowled at the Josie-sized indentation she’d left behind. The open bathroom door confirmed his fear. She’d ditched him without even a good-bye.
