The story continues with the two characters separate for several chapters, unable to solve the mystery on their own, but each finding valuable clues. It is an intriguing mystery, and I actually haven't figured out whodunit. But I really don't care. I want to hear the lovers' ending. Do they come to terms with the idea that their off-beat relationship was never long-term material to begin with? Or do they find their way back to each other? It's a mystery novel, not a romance novel, so I'm really unsure of how it'll resolve.

The two find themselves hunting down the same lead, and meet again, by chance, after so much time. She gets flustered and leaves. I want to throw my shampoo bottle at the CD player. Then he shows up at her door, unannounced. She has company, but stands at the open door to talk to him. And he pours out his heart. Now, really, I don't think I know of any man who would open himself up to that kind of possible humiliation, especially the rogue this character has been written to be. But the love the author wrote and the tone of his voice as he reads, well, it came across as rather convincing.

His voice is overflowing with emotion. "I'm sorry. Even if you never speak to me again, you need to know I am truly sorry. I was stubborn, demanding and controlling. I was trying to protect you, to do what I thought was best for you and for us, and I felt… I felt so dismissed because you wouldn't even consider what I was saying. So I tuned you out, and didn't hear what you were saying. That you don't actually need my protection, not in this, and you wanted to handle it in your way. I thought you were being obstinate and proud. But I didn't consider that maybe this was something you needed to do for yourself. Maybe if I had, you would have let me help you."

He sighed. "I'll always want to protect you, and I won't apologize for that." The author paused. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "But you truly are extraordinary, and my life has been made better by having you in it. This time apart from you has been soul-crushing. I'll do anything to fix us. I… miss you. And I love you. So very much." His voice cracked like he was choking back a sob.

I need to pause the disk. Damn. Is this why he brought me this disk? To hear this part? Damn. It was a good apology. Refilling the tub. Again. Letting tears roll down my cheeks. Again. I should go to bed. But I know I'll just lay there and think about that apology. Does it work? Is there a happily ever after? I really need to know. Really.

His voice once again fills the steamy room. She apologizes back, saying she was stubborn and she didn't listen, either. That she was as much to blame as he was. Seems a little out of character to me, but he's the writer.

They didn't kiss and make up. But they met for coffee the next day. Then lunch the next. Then they had dinner plans the next night that they never made, because they got too involved in making up. Very passionately.

That man can certainly write a love scene. And it's exponentially better when he's the one reading it to you. Whew. They wrap up the case, but I don't even hear who did it, because I need to get dressed.

Maybe I'm stupid for doing this, but I've got to believe that he meant for me to hear that. That it was for me.

It's almost four o'clock in the morning, and I look like a giant raisin, and my motorcycle helmet will make my wet hair dry in a horrible form, but I don't care.

I knock on his door and tap my foot nervously. He opens it, too fast, like he was waiting for me.

"You came." He looks torn between thrilled to see me and afraid I might shoot him. But he's still sexy as hell.

OK, so I didn't think this through. I'm not going to quote the apology from the book. I don't know what to say, and he's getting really nervous. I've got to say something.

"I'm sorry." I didn't mean to cry, or launch myself into a fierce hug, or blather on about how I missed him so much and love him more than anything, but apparently, I have no self control right now, because that's exactly what I'm doing.

And it's okay, because he's doing it too.

But I don't want to wait two more days like in the book before we really make up. "Good book. I liked the ending." I think it's best if he doesn't get a chance to answer and kiss him. He doesn't try to answer anyway, because he's too busy kissing me back.

God, I've missed this. "I love you." That came out as almost a moan, didn't it?

He breaks contact with my throat to whisper, "I love you more," then goes back to showing me exactly that.

After three months without his voice or his scent or his touch, finally, I'm back in the embrace of my favorite author, and it feels like home.