“Oh my God,” I mumble under my breath as my eyes dart around the café. I’m hoping nobody noticed my blunder, but as luck would have it, at least four pairs of eyes are on me. A familiar tightness begins to curl in my chest, constricting my air as my heart quickens. I’ve only been back in town for two days, and already I’m making a complete fool of myself.

I told myself that when I came home—if I ever came home—it wasn’t going to be like this. I had grand intentions of being smooth and refined and polished. I had a point to make to everyone who always told me otherwise. But when I glance across the café and catch sight of the Kelly twins giggling at me, I find myself wishing that the floor would just open up and swallow me whole. This is not what I need right now.

I curse under my breath as I blot at the wet stain on my dress. I need to focus. This meeting is important to me. So important every little detail could make or break my career. Being fresh out of college, I’m desperate to prove that I can successfully walk in my mother’s shoes and plan the hell out this event.

Ultimately, nothing else should distract me from this goal. This town and everyone in it are just white noise. My family and my career are all that matters, and once I prove myself, I’ll be leaving this place far behind to start a new division of the business in Florida. Now is the time to pull myself together because none of that is going to happen if I allow myself to sit here and let these people get to me. It’s been five years, and I’m not the same girl I was before. I have a college degree. I have friends for the first time in my life, and I’m proud of who I am. I’ve lost the braces and the birth control glasses, and now I shop at department stores in the city instead of the Bargain Outlet down the street.

With that thought in mind, I toss the Kelly twins a smile and a shrug. Now that I’ve finally learned it’s best to let them know they can’t get to me, they won’t get the satisfaction they want. They can’t torment me anymore.

I turn my attention back to the notes in front of me, marking off items on my to-do list. A ton of decisions still have to be made, and I’m trying not to panic. Officer Smith has limited time available to coordinate with me, so I intend to be as organized as I possibly can when I arrive to our meeting. At least that’s my big plan until a shadow falls over my table, and I look up into the ice blue eyes of the man standing over me. Without warning, the breath in my lungs dissipates, and the heart I thought I’d fortified over the past five years shrivels all over again.

Standing before me is none other than Denver Grayson. My first crush and my first and only heartbreak. With one glance, it’s apparent that my memory has not done him justice. Forget about the floor opening because now I’m wishing for a natural disaster. All those times I told myself he was just another guy, I was wrong. He is a god among men. A broad-shouldered, masculine powerhouse of muscle and bronzed skin.

Those penetrating ice blue eyes are sharper than I remember. And that chocolate brown hair looks so good my fingers curl in my lap as I consider what it would feel like to touch it. I can’t stop staring at him, cataloging every detail. The chiseled jaw. The scar on his eyebrow. And oh, sweet Jesus, he’s wearing a police uniform.

This has to be some kind of a cruel joke. The town has conspired against me, plotting my return and lying in wait. And now they’ve sent the boy who broke my heart in high school to remind me that I don’t belong here.

“Charlotte Cross.” He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and it occurs to me that I’ve been staring at him for the past two minutes while everyone in the café watches. And they are watching.

When I look around, anyone and everyone who’s a local has their eyes trained on us. But it’s the scathing expressions from the Kelly twins and Misty behind the counter that make my heart beat just a little faster.

“What are you doing?” I hiss at my interloper.

Denver frowns at my outburst, and I feel like an asshole. But then I remind myself that I don’t have to feel sorry for anything. I’ve done nothing wrong, and he should know better than to come waltzing up to my table like we’re old friends when nothing could be further from the truth.

It doesn’t matter how hot he is. It doesn’t matter that one glance makes me want to melt right into my seat. I can’t ever forget how much this man hurt me. I can’t ever let myself think he isn’t the same person who just stood there, watching the humiliation on my prom night. His friends doused me with corn starch and left me standing in a room full of my peers, rejected and alone.

Denver wasn’t my friend then, and he sure as hell isn’t now. But he doesn’t seem to be on the same page because he’s still standing there, staring at me with those puppy dog eyes I used to dream about. Only, they look so much different. So much more like a man. And maybe I’m imagining it, but I could almost swear I see regret in those icy blue depths. Or maybe it’s just what I want to believe.

My eyes move around the room again, scanning for threats like a soldier on the battlefield. Denver seems to shake from his thoughts and notice we’re in a room full of people for the first time since he appeared in front of me. He pinches the back of his neck to relieve the tension there.

Clearing his throat, he takes a seat across from me, leaning forward to display the bulging biceps that look like they’ve been photoshopped. “How have you been?”

“Are we really doing this?” I glare. “Did I ask you to sit down? Memory lane is closed, Denver. So I think it’s best you just move on along.”

Sadness seeps into his features as his eyes burn a trail over my face. He looks like he’s memorizing every detail, and I can’t help but wonder what I look like to him right now. It’s been five years since he’s seen me too, and I’m definitely not the same nerdy girl who left town as fast as she could. But somehow, I still feel like it. I feel like not a day has gone by, and my cheeks are on fire, and all I really want is for him to see me as a beautiful woman who doesn’t need him or anyone in this town.

“Here’s your coffee, Denver,” Misty purrs as she appears beside us. She offers him a sexy smile before tossing me another withering glare.

Misty was another one of my tormentors in high school. The pretty, popular cheerleader who made it her life’s mission to pick apart my clothes and hair at every opportunity. When I look up at her, I’m disappointed to see that she’s still just as beautiful as I remembered, at least on the outside.

“Thank you,” Denver bites out, gesturing for her to set his coffee down on the table. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me, and I don’t know how I feel about that.

Misty leans over so that Denver has no choice but to acknowledge her. “Anytime, babe. You know I take care of you.”

Denver doesn’t say a word, and Misty sashays back around the counter with a confidence I’ll never fully possess.

“Nice to see things haven’t changed around here,” I murmur.

Denver’s brows pinch together, and he shakes his head. “A lot has changed. You’d know that if you ever came home to visit.”

Tension creeps into my shoulders. “And why would I ever want to do that?”

Denver doesn’t answer. Instead, his eyes wander over the scattered mess of papers in front of me before I quickly shut the file and obscure it from his view.

“How long are you staying?” He cocks his head to the side, examining me.

“As little as I can get away with,” I offer with a forced smile.

He nods like he expected as much, and then to my relief, he stands up. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around then.”

I want to be happy that he’s leaving because it’s exactly what I should want. But even though it’s been five years and I’m a completely different person than I was when I left here, it occurs to me my heart hasn’t changed at all.

Denver Grayson will always be the one it wants.