“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Um…because this is a laughing matter?”

I almost laughed. Not because I was amused. Oh no. I was not.

More like horrified.

Because here I was, sitting in a limo. Alone. Staring out the window at the red carpet that loomed ahead. A red carpet littered with celebrities who milled around like it was commonplace and not some kind of alternate universe.

Somebody kill me now.

I pressed my cell a little harder to my ear, head beginning to shake as my stomach flopped with nerves. “Are you crazy? There is no way I’m going in there by myself.”

“Oh, come on, Kaylee. It’s not any different than going to the movies on a Friday night.”

Elle’s voice took on that casual tone she used whenever she wanted to get her way, the words missing the frantic edge they’d held when she’d first called me to tell me she wasn’t coming.

To her father’s directorial premiere.

Okay. So, it wasn’t his first movie. Eleanor Ward had grown up in Hollywood, her father directing and producing some low-budget, albeit freaking fantastic movies. There was hardly any shame in that.

But this…this was the big one, an A-list cast and a budget to match.

So yeah. It was a Friday night.

And I was at the movies.

But come on. Who was she kidding? We both knew there was absolutely no comparison.

“Don’t do that,” I hissed.

“Don’t do what?” she returned, all kinds of innocent.

“That thing you do. Where you act like nothing is a big deal when you know as well as I do it’s a really big deal.”

Exasperation blew through the words.

Ugh.

Elle.

She just had this way about her, always going about life as if nothing in the world mattered. Everything a game. No consequences or feelings or fears involved.

Easy.

It was as if she held the entire world in the palm of her hand. Every room she walked into, she owned. Every conversation, she commanded.

All of it with a flick of her hand and a twitch of her smile.

Magnetic.

I’d recognized her type the second she waltzed into the dorm we’d shared our freshman year at UCLA.

Gorgeous.

Spoiled.

Rich.

Sucking on a silver spoon when I’d worked my fingers to the bone for every scholarship I could possibly win. She had been subjected to dorm life because her daddy wanted her to experience real life, sent to slum it up with the common folk for an entire year.

Poor thing.

But I soon discovered beneath all that entitlement was a girl who would drop it all on a dime for those she cared about. Without a second thought.

So maybe we were polar opposites, but it didn’t take long for us to become attached at the hip.

That was ten years ago.

In all that time, she’d never let me down.

Not until today.

“Please, Kaylee,” she whispered, and that desperation was weaving its way back in. “I already hate that I’m doing this to Daddy. Both of us can’t not show. He’ll be devastated.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And this is important.”

What could be so important that she wasn’t here?

I pressed the heel of my hand to my eye, probably messing up the thick liner and black mascara I’d spent way too much time fretting over. “I don’t understand how you could do this to me or to him. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I’ll explain it all later. I just...” There was rustling in the background, muffled voices, before her attention came back to me. “I have to go. Just…please do this for me. Please, Kay Kay?”

I could almost see her big, brown puppy dog eyes pleading from across the space.

Wherever the hell that was.

Surrender.

It was there in my sigh.

“Fine. But you owe me big.”

She gushed in relief. “I know. I know. Anything, and it’s yours. Tell Daddy I love him, and I’m really sorry. I’m sure he’ll be over to kick my ass in the morning.”

“You know he will.”

The limo, the one Elle had sent for me, mind you, after she’d begged and pleaded and convinced me that I had to be here with her, inched forward. She’d been adamant that I couldn’t miss this, that I was family, and it didn’t matter that I didn’t belong here at all.

And here I was.

Nervous energy prickled across every inch of my exposed skin as the attendant opened the door, that red carpet now right at my awkward feet.

I sucked in a breath and pasted on a fake smile, praying I could pull this off.

One night.

I could do this.

I could pretend as if I didn’t wobble on my five-inch heels as I stepped out into the night. Pretend I felt confident in this over-the-top, super-sexy dress with the slit running all the way to the top of my thigh. One I’d borrowed from Elle because God knew I couldn’t afford it on my kindergarten teacher salary. Pretend the flashes of cameras didn’t blind my eyes.

I kept my head down as I moved forward.

“Julianne. Julianne Hough. Over here.”

Um. What?

Wide-eyed, I looked back over my shoulder. Yeah. Not so much.

I bit back a cringe when the reporter, one whose face I’d seen plastered too many times on my TV because Elle was addicted to celebrity TV, mouthed, “Oh sorry,” and turned away in favor of someone much more interesting.

God.

Could anything be more humiliating?

I had the urge to kick off my heels and run. Cower and hide and slink into my safe little world where I’d be curled up on my couch with a glass of wine and a good book.

I glanced to the right.

A hundred feet ahead, the darkened double doors of the theater teased me with the promise of its sanctuary. All I had to do was make it inside unnoticed. I’d slip in, be present for Elle’s father, Roger Ward, who was one of the nicest guys I knew, and then as soon as the credits rolled, I’d get the hell out of Dodge.

I tucked my chin to my chest, eyes trained on my feet, my uncoordinated, clumsy, strides just short of a run.

Just get inside. Just get inside.

A gasp of shocked air shot from me when I slammed into a wall.

A very, very hard wall.

A wall made up of flesh and muscle, and my feet were sliding out from under me as I went reeling back. Strong hands darted out, cinched around my upper arms to keep me from falling, drawing me up close.

So, so close.

I had the sudden, overwhelming urge to bury my nose deeper into that big wall of chest because it just smelled so damned good.

Or maybe I only wanted to bury my face in it, so I’d fall in and completely disappear. Because this had to rank up there as one of the most mortifying moments of my entire life, second only to the time my shorts caught on the slide in fourth grade and they split right up the middle.

Warily, I peeked up at my savior.

Breath gone.

Eyes wide.

Stomach a mixed-up pool of desire and embarrassment on the floor.

An earth-shattering smile full of bright white teeth had my heart rate shifting into high gear, but it was the playful brown eyes full of mischief and sex that had my knees knocking.

Oh, God.

Yes, yes, I had my answer. Things could be so much more humiliating.

Because I’d just run headfirst into Paxton Myles.