If Erick and Elin were together, and Elin had thought it through, Raegan would show her support.

Inside the car.

Elin realized Erick was in her apartment and bit her lip, trying to stay composed. "Did you pick my lock?"

Erick was sprawled on the sofa, stretching out his legs. “Why would I need to pick the lock to get in?"

“How did you get in, then?"

"A drunkard gave me the password last night."

Elin felt her ears heat up. She was the "drunkard" he was talking about. She wished she could slap herself. Why had she blurted out the password just because she'd had a few drinks? She resolved to change her password as soon as she got home.

Elin tried to calm her nerves. "You can't just barge into my place, you know."

Erick responded bluntly, “I came to pick up some clothes."

Elin, dumbfounded by his nerve, countered, “You're telling me you're out of clothes?"

"Yeah."

Elin was at a loss for words.

“Elin, why have you stopped calling me ‘Mr. Foster'?" Erick inquired.

Elin fell silent, her previous night's unrestrained behavior flooding her mind, causing her cheeks to redden.

“Last night in bed, you called me 'Mr. Foster' 58 times. You started off loud, and the rest of them were out with tears," Erick teased, his voice smooth and taunting over the phone. "Your voice was really captivating.”

Elin, close to stammering and clearly flustered, protested, "Stop it."

Though she had been drunk, the memories weren't completely Lost. Now, as Erick reminded her, the image of him from the night before, towering over her, his sweat dripping onto her from his toned body, came rushing back. It was wild...

Elin's body trembled and her ears felt hot as she hurriedly explained, “I texted you this morning. Last night was a mistake."

"I didn't see your text. Maybe you could explain it in person?"

Erick suggested.