“Zach. Are you paying attention to me? I asked you a question.” Liesa’s voice is like a dentist’s drill into my head.

You got yourself into this mess, buddy. No one to blame but you.

“They promised me you’d be happy,” I mutter. Two shots of tequila haven’t been enough for tonight. Jonas gave me the lecture last week about drinking too much. His threats are enough to curb my habits, but I miss the sedative, especially when Liesa’s mom, via email, demanded we spice it up for this week.

This drama is getting old. The same fits, the same whining, impossible demands, tears and slamming doors. How can TV viewers stand this shit week after week? I’ve only been in the picture for three months and I want to wind a rope around my neck and tie it to a ski boat.

Liesa Temple makes a fortune by being the biggest and most spoiled bitch not only on this island, this hemisphere and planet, but possibly in all history since the Big Bang. She is my very public girlfriend. And together, we’re marching Liesa’s Life ratings right up the charts. The gnat in the bourbon on that scenario is that all the money Liesa and I generate funnels away from us.

A good portion goes to Liesa’s mother, Simone, who taught Liesa everything about manipulating, fit throwing, spending money, and generally making everyone around her miserable. The bulk of the profits settle themselves in the accounts of producer, Jonas Knightly, the man who controls my life.

If you hadn’t fucked it up, you could be walking on a moonlit beach with Kylie, not stuck in this shitshow.

Jeri and Tom, the director and handler, have cleared the path to the restaurant, leaving enough stragglers to make it seem like the resort is occupied.

Jeri’s straight black hair chopped at the base of her skull with a fringe of bangs, has all the style of a three-year-old playing with scissors. She stands about five feet, two, but manages to direct everyone around her. If anyone is bossier than Liesa and Simone, it would Jeri, with her ever-present iPad. She rules our world. Tom, her assistant and henchman, does her bidding. Add to that Bob, the cameraman and Lurch, the 6’5 guy with the boom mic, and they really are an Axis of Evil.

A few people sit in the rattan arrangements and I…

My breath leaves me in a whoosh, kicking my heart against my chest. My skin heats, then freezes and I can’t tear my eyes away. An electric buzz fills my head and the only thought in all three pounds of my brain is Kylie. Kylie. Kylie.

She looks shocked, but I swear a smile spreads across her face before it disappears and she narrows her eyes.

Her blonde hair spills over bare shoulders kissed by the tropical sun and glowing under the low lights of the lobby. From this far away, I shouldn’t be able to see her eyes but I know their sky blue depths, the dark lashes. My tongue tastes the salt of her skin, my fingers feel the silk of her thighs, and I smell the sun and ocean in the warmth of her neck. My brain is flooded with the memory of her sweet, lemony scent.

Jeri holds her hand behind the head of Bob, the cameraman. She waves it frantically and points to Liesa, who makes her way across the lobby. I blink and swallow, trying to ground myself.

But Kylie hasn’t moved. Her roommate and waitress from The Green Frog, I think her name is Diana, swings her head from me to Kylie and back again, her eyes wide and mouth half-opened. Kylie shifts her gaze away as if dismissing me.

Some guy sprawls across the sofa with his head in her lap.

What the fuck?

Her dress has ridden far up her thighs. She glances up at me, then bends over the guy’s head, her hair making a curtain to hide her kiss. My mouth goes dry with rage.

She’s got a right. You screwed her over.

It feels as if a knife rips through my ribcage and tears at my heart.

“Zach!”

I try to look away, to mask whatever my face might reveal. Too late.

“What the hell is your—” Liesa stops mid-shriek when she realizes what I see. She glances at me, then back to Kylie. Liesa squares her shoulders.

There must be noise in the lobby. It’s wide open, tile floor, probably a band on the beach outside, voices, canned music. All I hear, though, is the click, clack, click, clack, of Liesa’s Manolo Blahniks as she crosses the lobby.

The cameraman scurries to position himself to Liesa’s left side. She’s so adept at ignoring the camera, as if she didn’t realize it is with her almost all the time. I get caught glancing at it every now and then, which makes Jeri lose her shit.

Diana and the bozo standing behind her gape as Liesa clack, clacks to stop in front of Kylie. No way Kylie doesn’t know Liesa is there, but she doesn’t look up.

Liesa folds her arms and taps her toe and when that doesn’t get Kylie’s attention, she raises her voice to ear-shattering level. “Kylie! I haven’t seen you in ages? Are you still waitressing?”

Kylie whips her head up, sending her hair out of her face. She plants a hand on the dead guy’s head and shoves it off her lap.

At least he’s not touching her anymore.

He slumps over the side of the sofa and she extricates herself. With a last ditch effort at dignity, she straightens the dress that had crept high enough to reveal a bit of lace at her thigh.

Stop looking at her like she just ripped your heart out.

Like you want to kiss the place on her throat where her heart beats.

Stop thinking about Kylie like she’s your very breath.

“Liesa.” Kylie takes a moment to nod at Bob and Lurch. Her eyes flick to me and her lip curls up. “I see you’ve brought all your friends out tonight.”

Liesa’s usual claws don’t come out, which is weird because normally, she’d be ready to shred flesh. “You’ve made some new ones since I saw you last.” She taps the guy’s foot with the toe her Blahniks.

Kylie’s eyes flick to me. She hates me. She should. And yet, there’s something else in her expression.

Don’t hope.

Don’t go there.

She deserves better.

You can’t bring anything good into her life.

Liesa is cucumber cool. “I don’t think you’ve met my boyfriend, Zach Lowery.”

I never know Liesa’s game. Is she on my side or are we adversaries? Is she purposely keeping Kylie out of Jeri’s firing line, or is she rubbing Kylie’s nose into the public fact that Liesa and are a pair? Either way, hearing her say it out loud makes me want to hurl.

Kylie. I’m so sorry. So. Sorry.

I stride over to Liesa and thread my arm around her shoulder. “We’d better get going. Our table should be ready.”

Liesa pulls back and flicks her chin toward Kylie. “Zack, this is my friend, Kylie Sawyers.” She’s trying for super casual, but there’s tension along her jawline.

“Hi.” I don’t look Kylie in the eye. How can I and not show her everything I feel? The guilt. The pain. The desire so strong I can’t sleep at night. The erection I get whenever I think about her, about those few times we’d made love. And I think about her every day. “Nice to meet you.” I pull Liesa away. “We really need to go or they might give your scallops to someone else.”

She spins out from under my arm and flounces toward the restaurant, the cameraman backing up and racing behind the sofa where Diana and her soft frat boy still watch with amazed expressions. Liesa raises her nose in superiority. “They’d better not. You promised me they would make them with a touch of garlic, just the way I like them.”

She places her cool palms on my cheeks and pulls me close for a soft, long kiss, and I let her.

I have no choice but to close my eyes and pretend I enjoy it. She cuddles into me, her voice like a soft coo. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Across America, countless tween girls will sigh when that airs. I play up to Liesa, my stomach tied in knots, just hoping this little PDA will take the attention away from Kylie. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” It sits in my stomach like sour milk but I’ve learned not to gag.

Liesa takes my arm and leans close. “I’m starving. Let’s go get those scallops.”

I fight every urge in my body that makes me want to turn around and rush back to Kylie, because I can’t. I can’t do that. I’ve made a deal with Jonas Knightly, the devil himself, so he’ll leave Kylie alone.