We make most of the drive in silence, with the radio drowning out the awkward tension between us in the car. Daniel keeps his eyes fixed on the road, like I’m not even here, and any time I try and make small-talk to break the mood, he reminds me that the roads are still icy from the frost.

“You don’t want us to wind up in a ditch, do you?” he asks, when I ask a simple question about his job, and how he likes New York.

“No,” I sigh, turning away. I press my head against the cool glass, watching the blur of grays and white speed by, trapped inches away from him with no escape.

I want to cry.

I wasn’t expecting this, to feel so shaken and off balance. I told myself it was just one crazy night together, but waking up to find Daniel gone this morning was one of the worst moments of my whole entire life. I knew I was making a mistake, letting things go so far, but I couldn’t help it. A small part of me hoped that maybe, just maybe, our night together was as epic and amazing for him as it was for me; that he’d never want it to end. I woke up still enveloped in the feeling of his arms around me, our bodies moving as one, our very souls connected—and then I rolled over and reached for him, and found empty sheets instead.

I’ve never felt so stupid.

Of course he didn’t mean it, I was crazy thinking he could ever see me as girlfriend material, when he’s made it clear I’m the last thing he wants in a woman. Thank God that by the time he arrived back at the room, I had myself pulled back together. If he wants to act like it was just a one-time thing, then I can do that. Easy, breezy, no problem. After all, Lacey James is the queen of casual hook-ups, I can play this in my sleep.

Except it’s killing you, pretending like you don’t care.

I swallow back the ache and keep my eyes fixed on the winter landscape blurring outside the windows. It shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does. Because the truth is, last night with Daniel was the first time I’ve ever connected with someone like that: bared my heart and soul to them, without trying to stay distanced or detached. I showed him everything, and now, it kills me to see him turn away. At least when he was with Juliet, I had a good reason to know we’d never be together. I could tell myself it wouldn’t work, anyway, that we wouldn’t have any chemistry or spark.

Now I know, we have enough to light the world on fire, but it’s still not enough.

The worst part is, I wouldn’t take it back, a single second. I could wish it had never happened at all, except that would be a lie: I’d do it all over again, even this pain here, right now. Just to have shared that moment with him, and seen the look in his eyes: like I was everything he wanted, finally his.

One moment of believing we could be real, that’s all I had.

And that’s all you’ll ever have.

I hug my arms around myself, fighting the pain.

“Are you cold? Is the air too high?” Daniel glances over. “I have a sweater if you need.”

I shake my head quickly. “I’m fine,” I lie, even as my heart aches. “How much further?”

“Not long now,” Daniel checks the GPS. “Thirty, forty minutes maybe. We’ll be there before noon, plenty of time for you before the wedding.”

“Thanks,” I swallow back a treacherous sob. “For getting the car, and everything. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing,” Daniel gives a casual shrug, like driving hours out of his way is no big deal. “I needed to do something, anyway. You were right, being cooped up in that hotel room was too much.”

Being cooped up with me.

I feel another stab of misery. “Don’t worry,” I joke, deadpan. “Once you drop me off, we’ll never have to see each other again.”

“I didn’t …” Daniel starts. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Whatever,” I shrug, and turn my face away again. “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me when we get there.”

I pretend to sleep for the rest of the way to Beachwood Bay, until finally the coastal highway hits the sleepy town. It looks perfect and peaceful under a blanket of snow: the boats tied up in the harbor, bobbing white against the slate grey waves. We drive down Main Street, past shuttered stores, and white-picket front yards, and the Christmas tree lit up in the square. Finally, the ache in my chest eases, just a little, replaced with a sense of awe at the surroundings.

“It’s beautiful here,” I breathe, my breath fogging the window. “Like something from a postcard.”

“I would have figured you for a city girl,” Daniel remarks. “Bright lights, big crowds.”

“Most of the time,” I agree, “But look around, and tell me this isn’t the cutest place you’ve ever seen.”

Daniel gives a cursory glance out of the window. “Sure,” he agrees, but his voice is tight, and then I remember: to him, Beachwood Bay isn’t just an adorable vacation town, it’s the place he lost Juliet—and where she’s hours away from getting married. No wonder he doesn’t seem happy to be back here.

It strikes me suddenly that he didn’t have to make the trip at all. Hell, who would want to show up this close to his ex’s wedding? He could have given me the car, and waited for a flight himself, he didn’t have any reason to come with me out here, unless …

I gulp. Maybe he still has feelings for Juliet. Maybe he can’t help but want to see her one last time, before she marries Emerson and is out of his life for good.

The thought sinks through me, heavy as a rock. As if I didn’t feel bad enough, now I know, to Daniel, I’ll never compare to the love of his life. I’ll never be the good, sweet, demure girl he wants to be with, and all the hoping and wishing in the world won’t change that.

We turn up the winding coastal road, the ocean visible through the screed of cedar trees that line the dunes, and I do my best to pull myself back together. By the time we pull into the beach house drive, gravel crunching under the tires, I’m just about back in control.

“I guess the party’s already started,” Daniel notes, as we find a spot to park. The drive is full of an assortment of cars and trucks, and the house sits, strung up with Christmas lights and surrounded by snow, looking out across the bay. It’s a vacation home that’s been in Juliet’s family for generations. She and Emerson don’t live here anymore, not really: they have an apartment in the city, and now that Emerson’s little sister, Brit, has moved in with her fiancé, the place is unoccupied. But when it came to picking a wedding site, Juliet was determined: this house was where she and Emerson began, and it means the world to her to start the new chapter in their lives here too.

“Lacey!” Juliet’s delighted scream echoes as the front door opens and she hurtles down from the holly-decked porch. She sprints across the lawn to meet me, dressed in jeans and a sweater and boots, but with her hair and makeup all done for the wedding. “You made it!”

“I’m so, so, so, so sorry!” I hug her back hard. “I know I messed everything up coming late but there was nothing I could do. Don’t hate me!”

“Are you kidding?” Juliet pulls back, her cheeks pink and excited under her pretty braided updo. “I’m just so happy you made it here at all! Brit is driving me crazy, and I can’t get married without my best friend.”

“I heard that!” A female voice calls out from the second-floor window, and a moment later, Juliet’s sister-in-law-to-be, Brit, sticks her head out. “Hey you! And I wouldn’t be bugging you if you’d sit still long enough to set your makeup!”

“I’ll be right up!” Juliet yells, then hugs me again, grinning. “I’m so happy you’re here! How did you make it? You said flights wouldn’t start up for hours.”

“We drove,” I explain.

“We?” Juliet raises an eyebrow and looks past me, her eyes widening as she sees who just got out of the car. “Wait, Daniel?” she gasps in shock, looking back and forth between us. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, right,” I realize with a flush of guilt. “I didn’t mention that part, did I? We were on the same flight, so we ended up snowed in together.”

“Congratulations,” Daniel says, moving forward to meet Juliet. He leans in and kisses her on the cheek, then stands back. “Today’s the big day, huh?”

Juliet nods, her excitement dimmed for a moment. “I thought about sending you an invite, but, I figured …” she looks at Daniel, her dark eyes wide with sincere regret.

My guilt twists harder. Bad enough reminding Daniel about everything without messing up Juliet’s special day too. What was I thinking, bringing him into the middle of things like this?

Daniel coughs, glancing away. “Yeah, I’m spending Christmas with my folks, anyway. At least, I was …”

“Wasn’t it a huge coincidence?” I interrupt brightly. “Of all the flights, in all the world, I wound up sitting next to him.” I let out a nervous laugh. “And then the hotel was overbooked, and we had to split a room, and—” I stop. Oh, crap, I wasn’t going to tell Juliet about that part.

“Really?” Juliet turns to me and gives me a curious look. I avoid her stare. “Huh. Anyways, what are we even doing, standing around in the cold?” She exclaims brightly. “Come inside, warm up.”

“I should really get back on the road.” Daniel says, clearly reluctant.

“Nonsense!” Juliet objects. “You’ve been driving for hours, at least have some coffee and food before you go. Come on, Lacey!” she calls to me, steering us both towards the house.

I try to protest, but Juliet overrules me, and before I even know what’s happening, Daniel and I are inside, in the kitchen, with a cup of coffee in our hands and a promise of food on the way. “The groomsmen will be back from the bar in a minute,” Juliet promises, “They’re in charge of lunch.”

I look around the house, taking in the chaos: decorations spilling out of boxes, wedding gifts piled in the living room next to an over-decorated tree, and traces of Brit’s dressmaking materials still scattered around the room. Juliet follows my gaze.

“I know, I know, it looks bad, but, Emerson promised the guys would get everything cleared up before the ceremony at three.”

“What did I promise?” A voice comes, and then Emerson strides through the back door, stamping snow off his boots. He goes straight to Juliet like she’s the only person in the room. “The aisle is all shoveled,” he tells her, his dark hair ruffled at all angles. “But high-heeled shoes are out. I don’t want you breaking your neck before you get to say ‘I do.’”

“Thank you,” Juliet melts into a grin, leaning up to kiss him. “That’s one less thing to cross off the list.”

“Hey Lacey,” Emerson finally looks around the room. Then he lays eyes on Daniel, and his whole body freezes, tense. “What the hell’s he doing here?” he demands loudly.

Emerson takes half a step towards him, threatening, but Daniel stands his ground. He takes a sip of coffee, casual as can be despite the fact Emerson looks like he’s about to rip his head off.

“Daniel drove Lacey,” Juliet explains, quickly stepping between them. “Isn’t that nice of him?”

Emerson regards Daniel with a threatening stare. “Sure. Nice. Thanks.”

“No problem, man,” Daniel regards him coolly. “Happy to help out.”

There’s a tense silence, the two guys staring each other down, and I remember what Juliet told me about the last time these guys met face-to-face: how it ended with an all-out bloody brawl.

Way to ruin the wedding, Lacey!

Finally, Daniel sets down his cup. “I should hit the road,” he says, leisurely, as if he has all the time in the world.

“Don’t let us stop you.” Emerson agrees. Juliet rolls her eyes at him, and moves forwards to give Daniel a hug.

“Thank you again for getting Lacey here. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Daniel gives her a crooked smile, then looks past her to me. “Lacey, you take care.”

My heart twists. This is it, he’s leaving. After everything that’s happened, I want to throw my arms around his neck and make him stay somehow; at the very least, taste one last bittersweet kiss.

I fight the urge, with everything I have. There’s no use humiliating myself now, when he’s made himself perfectly clear.

“Sure, you too,” I murmur, looking away. There’s a pause, then Daniel pulls on his jacket. “Good luck, to the both of you,” he tells Emerson and Juliet, and holds his hand out for Emerson to shake. After a beat, Emerson takes it. “Take care of her,” Daniel says quietly, and it makes the knife twist harder—that even after all their drama, he can still be a good man about it.

Emerson nods, solemn. “With my life.”

I busy myself with dishes at the sink, keeping turned away until I hear the front door shut and Daniel’s engine start up in the yard. There’s a pause, while I scrub hard at a breakfast bowl, tears stinging the corner of my eyes. Then Juliet’s voice comes, loud and clear.

“You want to tell me what just happened here?”