My phone vibrates in my pocket as I leave my first-class seat on the plane and file into JFK airport. Mom shipped me off to Illinois to meet with Marty Pelham, who was in Chicago for two ribbon-cutting events. We needed to complete a tedious, line-by-line review of the proposed deal with O’Sullivan Entertainment. I ended up out of town for over a week, working mostly with the company controller because of the complexity of the transaction. And at night, I’d end up either filling in Mom or our valuation team on my findings.

After a week of mind-numbing data review, never ending hotel restaurant meals, long days, and a few hours each night sleeping in a hotel, I’m grateful to be back in town. I want to take a cab home and climb into my bed for a few hours. But I won’t be at my place long enough to enjoy a second. My to-do list includes going to my condo, swapping out business suits and smart work pumps for airy summer dresses, my bridesmaid gown and impractically high-heeled designer shoes in my suitcase and suit bag, then speeding over to Cherry’s condo to catch a ride out to the Hamptons for Jackson and Dahlia’s wedding. I’m not thrilled about the lack of downtime, but at least Jace or Cherry will be doing the driving. Even with cute little Scottie in the vehicle, I’ll at least have some time to close my eyes and relax.

Or so I thought until I collect my luggage from the carousel and her phone call lights up my iPhone screen.

“Hi, Cherry. Are you already outside?” I’m too tired for small talk, and she’s my best friend. I don’t have to put on an act for her.

“Oh great. You landed. How was the flight?”

“Fine.”

“Hey. There’s a quick change of plans. Nothing huge.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, yes, we’re all good. Jace and I left with Scottie earlier than planned to help Jackson with a few things. Long story short, I can’t pick you up.”

“That’s okay. I can schedule a last-minute limo, or worst-case scenario, I’ll drive.”

“No need for that. I already took care of transportation.”

“With who?”

“Everyone else is already on their way out here, and we didn’t want to have you drive alone. Liam’s on his way. I hope you don’t mind too much.”

It’s been less than two weeks since I spoke to Liam. We could have connected if we wanted to, I suppose, but with my long days, I figured I’d give him some space, and maybe he thought the same thing too. Now that I’m back and Cherry brought up his name, I miss him a little.

Mere weeks. That’s how long it takes for me to realize there’s nothing fake between Liam and me. I hate admitting it. But living a lie has a way of changing a person. Though it’s more a lie wrapped inside of a truth I don’t want to acknowledge.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “Plans change.”

“You sure?”

“As long as he doesn’t have an entourage of paparazzi with him. Hey, I never got a chance to look. Did the whole VanLi thing die down?”

She laughs. “Not a chance.”

“Awww crap. Does that mean what I think it does? They know we’ll be at the wedding? Fuck, that’s the reason you guys left a little earlier, isn’t it?”

“No no, it’s nothing like that. Stop worrying. We’ll see you soon!”

Hanging up, I send Liam a quick text to find out his ETA. He replies that he’s already here. I wheel the luggage carrier through the terminal to the arrivals pickup area and look out at the long line of waiting vehicles. Then I feel strong, sure hands slide around my waist from behind me.

Liam.

“Hi, sexy.” The smooth depth of his voice and that soft kiss he presses onto the spot on my neck reminds me that I’ve been in denial my entire time out of town. I missed him.

“Hi,” I breathe out as he turns me to face him. I take in his imposing height all over again, fiery red hair, broad shoulders, hard muscles under his clothes, and those intense hazel green eyes. Nervous all of a sudden, I bite down on my bottom lip to stop the words that threaten to spill out. Thank God his mouth crashes against mine, smothering every word and thought in one passionate kiss.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says as he pulls away, and reaches for my luggage. “We’ve got a crazy drive ahead of us.”

“How come you didn’t call?” I demand right there in the middle of the terminal.

“You know why.” He removes one hand from the luggage cart and takes my hand.

“Actually, I kinda don’t.”

“Let’s talk in the car, all right?”

I’m stuck in my head for the rest of the walk to his car and hop into the passenger seat while he loads my things into the trunk. This off-balance feeling in my gut is so unfamiliar. But as he sits in the driver seat, I swallow hard and let it out.

“If you cared about me all this time, why didn’t you just tell me?”

He starts the car, drives out of the short-term parking garage and merges into traffic. “You know you weren’t ready for that.”

“How the hell can you tell what I want or don’t want? We never talked about going on a date, whether or not we wanted to be exclusive, nothing at all. Are we exclusive at all?”

He keeps his eyes on the road but shakes his head. “If you have to come out and ask a question like that…fine, I’ll tell you what I know. We’re exclusive.”

“Well thanks for the news flash, because up to this point, I wasn’t.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“I’m telling you the truth. You’re not the only man I’ve slept with.”

“Name one guy other than me that you’ve fucked in the last year. No, in the last three years.”

“Well there’s—” I start to mentally go through the guys on my list of casual hookups in my phone contact lists. Fuck. I can’t remember. Pulling out my phone, I go through each list one by one and click through a few of the names to see when was the last time we exchanged a text or phone call.

Fuck. He’s right.

“Well, I’m not sure. How did you know I haven’t been with anyone else?”

“I just know.”

“Have you gone through my phone?”

“Of course not.”

“Did you have me followed?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“How are you so sure?”

He raises his eyebrows at me, but says nothing.

I cross my arms over my stomach, covering the seatbelt. “I’m still not thrilled that you sprang that girlfriend deal on me in front of our families.”

“I’m sorry if it put you on the spot, but I don’t regret it for a second.”

“That’s the weakest apology I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m not apologizing for what I did. Only for the shock value. Which you needed.” His voice is so calm, and the flurry of emotions playing on my mind is so off the charts, I have to look away. He rests a hand on my knee. “Try to relax.”

The urge to tell him to let me go is strong. I want to lash out, to show him he’s wrong about me, about us. He can’t know me better than I know myself.

Son of a bitch.

But he does.

And his touch, for fuck’s sake. Just his goddamned hand on my knee has me longing for more contact between our bodies. It’s not only about that crazy, wicked hot sexual energy between us. Yes, it’s there, now more than ever. But weaving through all of that attraction, there’s also an unavoidable gravitational pull that not only brings us physically closer, but more than that. It’s one of those elusive, intangible, mysterious subtleties that show up out of nowhere and hits you as hard as a punch in the face when you least expect it. And I of all people would know it. I’ve been avoiding it for almost my entire life.

I glance over at him. “For the record, I hate that you’re right.”

He smiles, and it reaches his eyes. “We have more in common than you think.”

“Meaning what?”

Reaching his hand up to my face, he cups my chin. “It took you three years to realize what I saw all those years ago. And it took me three years to tell you I love you. I’d say we’re even.”

My eyes well up, my chest is tight with the flood of emotions, and my lips start to tremble. I’m sure the words won’t come without chest-heaving sobs and ugly crying. I cover his hand with mine and clasp my other hand on my chest, clenching my grandmother’s locket, saying nothing.

Because he already knows.