I take a step back from the table full of Penchant lube bottles and wipe my arm over my forehead. Despite the air conditioning set to full-blast in McCafferty’s Books, the last hour of lifting boxes and arranging tables has turned me into a sweaty mess. Combined with my black cocktail dress, the sweat is not a pretty look, but it is what it is. I’ve been racing against the clock ever since my last-minute change of location, and now we’re less than an hour away from the official party start time I’d announced to my followers on social media.

Abigail and I have transformed the romance section of the bookstore into an intimate party area, with a few raised cocktail tables dotting the perimeter. My caterer and bartender arrived a few minutes ago to cart in cups and plates from the parking lot. The crown jewel of the store, though, is the table displaying Penchant lube next to the latest and hottest romance novels Abby could pull together. Because what’s better than lube or romance alone? Lube and romance together. Some might say they go hand in hand. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. Thank god Abby agreed.

“I can’t believe you’re going to pull this off,” Abigail says with admiration. She sets a vase of flowers onto one of the cocktail tables and looks around the room. “I mean, I can believe it, because you’re brilliant. But I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

I smile and squeeze her hand. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” Now we just need to get people to show up.

I pull out my phone and send another tweet into the universe: Lube and Romance (Better & Wetter Together!) at McCafferty’s. 7 p.m. tonight. Don’t miss it!

After tonight there will be no going back to the way things were before. Word’s already buzzing around the bookstore employees that Natalie Bloom is throwing a lube party, and as soon as we let people into the party area, the rest of the town is going to find out my secret.

It’s everything I’ve been hiding the last few months—this totally racy business, this sex-positive, empowered side of the girl people knew from high school. Just a few months ago, I stood on the sidewalk in front of my dad’s house, mortified when Jackson caught me with a box full of lube. And now I’m letting the whole town know that not only do I know what lube is, I sell it, and I support them using it too.

No matter what happens next, I can’t hide behind the Penchant brand and my Delilah Overbrook facade anymore. As much as I want to pack the bookstore with new customers, the truth is that most of the guests who would have come to Aphrodite’s Closet aren’t going to make it to a party in a tiny town an hour outside of Boston. It would cost more in gas money than it would to just order the damn lube online. Which means the people most likely to come to my event are people who are already in Swan’s Hollow. People who know that I’m Natalie Bloom, not Delilah. It’s terrifying, but also kind of okay. Even if this event doesn’t work out, I’ll land on my feet. I’m not the same girl who rolled into this town, and I need to stop thinking of myself as the college dropout barista so everyone else can, too.

Actually, now that I think about it…

“I’ll be back in a minute,” I promise Abby, and she waves me off.

I hurry through the parking lot until I can see through the front window of Holy Grounds. A bustling after-dinner crowd sits around the tables, enjoying pastries and coffee and the dubious scripture on the walls. Jess fixes orders behind the counter, her lips pulled into a frown, but as far as I can see she’s the only one there.

Good.

I push open the door and march inside. Jess’s eyes widen in surprise when she sees me in my cocktail dress and I can’t help but grin. Yes, I can wear something other than a coffee-stained work uniform. I can look like a grown-up. I can look good. And yes, this grown-up badass boss lady is going to use the goddamn message board without buying a thing. So sue me.

I write a message on the chalkboard in the biggest script I can fit. Coffee and love are best served hot. Steamy event for lovers tonight. 7 p.m. at McCafferty’s Books.

Jess’s voice rings over my shoulder. “Steamy event, huh? Want me to tweet about it?”

I turn to smile at her. “Actually, yes.” Then I surprise us both by pulling her into a quick hug. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles, but when I pull away she’s smiling back at me. I hate to be wrong about people, but when it comes to Jess, I’m so, so glad I was.

As I exit the store, I almost trip on Mrs. Keaton and her small, crapping dog, and I can’t believe my luck.

“Watch where you’re going,” Mrs. Keaton says. Porkchop just stares up at me, his eyes bulging out of his head. Man, he really is an ugly dog.

“Actually, I was hoping I’d find you.” I pull my eyes up to Mrs. Keaton’s face. “There’s an event happening tonight and I was hoping you’d help me spread the news. It’s a juicy one.”

“Hmm.” Her mouth puckers. I can tell she wants to say no but this woman can’t resist gossip any more than she can resist those Frappuccinos. “Depends what it is.”

I take a deep breath. Who cares what anyone thinks? This is who I am, and being afraid of what other people might say isn’t going to stop me.

“We’re selling lube and romance novels together over at the bookstore to support a local business. Actually, it’s my business. I’d love to see you there.”

Mrs. Keaton’s mouth falls open in shock. It might be the best effect I’ve ever had.

I head back into the bookstore, feeling like I’ve done all I can.

“Okay,” I say to myself, looking around the store. Everything’s in place but it still doesn’t feel right. Something big is missing.

I straighten a stack of business cards for the fifth time, then arrange and rearrange the same spray of flowers on the table. Abby walks up next to me and I smell her honeysuckle perfume, sweet and familiar.

“There’s still time, you know,” she says.

“I know, right? Thirty minutes. I mean, we could just start the party early, if that’s easier for you.”

Abby lays a hand on my arm. “That’s not what I meant.”

I look into her face and she’s got that mama expression on again, the wise and caring one. She’s not talking about books at all.

Oh.

Because the thing that is missing from tonight, the thing that has always been missing, isn’t a thing at all. It’s Jackson. I’ve spent so much time telling myself that I don’t need him, but I never stopped to consider the fact that I wanted him. That I want him now. Standing in the bookstore, elbow to elbow with my best friend, I realize that I can be a strong, independent business woman and also love Jackson Wirth. Both things can be true. And nothing is ever going to make things right unless he’s here.

Tears prick my eyes as I think about Jackson’s face, the morning of our first fight. He’d known exactly what to say to make me soften, to make me feel the connection sparking between us. Because you know me. Because you look beyond the pretty face and see me.

I hadn’t wanted to hear it then, to acknowledge it. But now that I’m standing in front of a display of the lube we created together, I can’t help but think that maybe I’ve been wrong about him. Hell, I was wrong about Jess, wasn’t I? Maybe I fell into the same trap as everyone else, making assumptions about Jackson. Because while he may have been a player when I knew him in high school, he’s also one of the best men I know.

Maybe part of protecting myself and my heart was choosing to ignore the truth of him. The Jackson Wirth who stayed out with me in my treehouse during my parents’ divorce, silent when I needed it, full of jokes when I needed to fill the space. The Jackson who drove me to school, who taught me to love coffee. Who thumbed the edges of my journals, wanting to read my stories, but who never pressed when I wasn’t ready to share. The Jackson Wirth who stepped up to raise his brother, who stayed behind to take care of his mom. Who shouldered a legacy he didn’t want, all to be doing the right thing.

That’s the Jackson most people don’t see, but he did show me. He did let me in. He’s taken risks with me through every step of this business, and he’s believed in me. He told me I see the real him, but the truth is, he sees me, too. Since the moment I came back to town he’s done nothing but protect me and support my dreams, and I’ve shut him out because I’ve been scared. Shame on me. Jackson’s shown me who he is and he’s not going to hurt me. At least, not on purpose.

Suddenly I have to go. I can’t stay in this bookstore watching the clock tick down anymore. The air feels so thick I can’t breathe.

“I’ll be back,” I tell Abby for the second time in an hour. Her eyes widen as I flash past, her fingers curled tight around a book. “If I’m late, start without me.”

I walk toward the door, my legs solid for the first time today. I pulled off this whole damn party. I sure as hell can face the truth with Jackson Wirth.