The Purple Swan is crowded, humming with energy. People have been arriving in a hurry this evening, trying to get inside before the thunderstorm forecasted for New York City hit. So far, it’s a gentle summer rain, but when Carolyn and I got out of the town car she hired, I heard the rumble of thunder in the distance. The storm will be here before the party is over, that’s for sure.

Christian has invited all of our friends to the Swan for a going-away party. I leave for Seattle in the morning. Despite my obsessive planning—I even have a credit union picked out, and I’ve signed up for a rewards card at the local grocery store chain that’s closest to my new apartment—the upcoming move still seems surreal. As I look around the table at my laughing, drinking, chatting friends, I realize I’m going to miss them.

It’s all right, though. I know exactly where to find them if I ever want to visit.

Aside from that, it’ll be good for me to branch out. Once Jamie and I parted ways after college, it was so much easier to fall in with Christian’s crowd—but now that I’m feeling a stronger urge to rebuild my life, I need to be around more people who aren’t millionaires or billionaires. My friends are wonderful people and generous to a fault, but it’s not the same when you’re not a millionaire or billionaire, too. Jamie’s promised that she has lots of friends in Seattle who will be thrilled to meet me. I believe her.

We’re about halfway through the dinner service—eight courses, one of the top-tier options available at the Swan—when Christian drops into the empty seat, his champagne glass in hand. The conversation swirls around us, the waiters clearing the soup bowls away in preparation for the next course, everyone deciding on their next glass—or bottle—of wine.

“Come clean,” he says with that sexy smile of his. I can appreciate his good looks even though I know, deep in my heart, that nobody’s ever going to compare to Alec. “What’s this move all about? I thought you were done with all that?”

“Things change,” I say, leaning back to let the waiter remove my dishes. “I guess it’s time for me to move on. You know me, Chris. I can never stay in the same place too long.”

“Don’t be coy with me, Jess,” he jokes, taking another sip of champagne. “Is this about that Alex guy?”

“Alec,” I correct automatically, then blush. “And what makes you say that?”

“Because,” he says, drawing the word out, “you love those spontaneous life moves, but it seems awfully suspicious that you jet off for some secret, unplanned vacation with the guy, then come back and immediately decide that you’d rather live all the way across the country.”

“I’ve got friends in Seattle,” I say defensively. “It’s not a random choice.”

“The timing isn’t random.”

“No.” There’s nothing I can say to prove him wrong. The timing isn’t random.

“What happened with you guys? Last I heard, you were across the Atlantic with the guy and nobody knew if you’d even come back. Then you’re here, but moving. Did you discover he’s an asshole?”

“Not exactly,” I sigh, although he did behave like one on more than one occasion. While the rest of the table discusses the latest book climbing the bestseller charts—some vampire novel with a twist—I give Christian an abbreviated rundown of what happened in Saintland.

He listens until I’m done speaking. “And what is it exactly that makes you want to move?”

“I miss him,” I say, the ache welling up in my heart. “Every day that I’m here, I keep looking for him on the street, like he’ll show up one day and…”

“Take you back?”

I shake my head. “I don’t even know if I’d want him to do that.” This is only a half-truth. With every day that passes, I’m more sure than ever that I do want to be with Alec. It’s Alec who doesn’t want to be with me. I’m not going to be one of those needy, clingy women.

“Why aren’t you flying to Saintland instead of Seattle? At least in Saintland, you’d be able to figure it out for sure.”

“I’m not going to be one of those people who can’t let it go, Chris. I don’t have it in me to fly to Europe only to be rejected again. He’s moved on.”

“You know that for sure?”

I don’t know it for sure, but I’m not willing to risk it. “I’m done with those big, risky moves, okay? It always backfires.”

“Changing colleges didn’t backfire.”

“Changing colleges led me right to Michael. I’m not sure you can call that a wild success.”

Christian shrugs. “You’re here now, though. That doesn’t seem like a failure to me. You could have ended up back in the middle-of-nowhere Midwest.”

“I guess.”

The next dinner course is about to arrive. I don’t know where else this conversation can go. I’m not going to get on a plane to Saintland. I’m going to enjoy the party, and then I’m going to get on with my life in a new city that doesn’t remind me of Alec everywhere I look.

“Look, I’m not even going to think about telling you what to do,” Christian says, holding up his free hand. “All I’m saying is, are you going to run away from this forever?”

I cast him a sidelong glance. “That’s rich, coming from New York City’s most notorious playboy.”

“This is about you, not me,” he teases, but then his face turns serious again. “Besides, I’d give all that up if I felt that way about someone.”

“Felt what way?”

“We all saw the way you looked at him the night he came to the Swan. The moment a woman makes me feel that way, my trolling days are over.”

“I don’t believe that,” I say with a laugh. “You always said you’d never get married. What was it—even if Britney Spears begged you to give her a ring?”

A strange look flashes through his eyes, reminding me for an instant of his brother Elijah, but his expression doesn’t falter. “Hey, it might never come—” Christian says with that thousand-watt smile of his, “—but if it does, I won’t be able to ignore it. I don’t think you can, either.”