The chill in the air sends a shudder down my spine as I step onto the big balcony.

A few smokers have gathered here, some of them standing around in small groups.

But he’s alone. He’s always been a loner.

He’s looking in my direction, and my heart skips a beat.

I’ve fantasized about this exact moment so much, but now that it’s actually happening, I have no idea how to handle this.

Hi Gabe, remember me?

Hey, you’re Gabe right? We used to be neighbors. We played together all the time when we were little.

Gabe! Oh my God, it’s really you! How have you been? It’s been so long.

Somehow, as our eyes meet and I stare straight into those brilliant green eyes, none of the greetings I’ve thought up seem to fit the situation.

Yes, our pasts are interconnected. But I don’t know if that gives me an advantage over all the other women eyeing him tonight.

Our history is dark. Inky black. That’s why my light-hearted lines won’t work.

But at least he’s looking at me now. That’s good, right? Maybe he does remember me.

In fact, he’s kind of… staring at me. But I don’t think it’s recognition darkening those eyes right now. It’s something else entirely. Something I can’t identify.

Just when I think he’s about to say something, Gabe turns his back on me.

His suit is pulled snug across his broad back as he leans down and rests his forearms on the stone balustrade. White cigarette smoke floats up and gets carried by the wind, although some lingers around him, floating like it doesn’t want to leave.

I could watch his back all night, but it’s time to make a move. That’s what I’m here for. I can’t chicken out now.

I take a few steps closer, my heels noisily hitting the grey slate tiles underfoot. My heart is hammering almost just as loud, and my legs feel shaky.

But I can do this.

I’m just going to say hi. It’s not a big deal.

“Excuse me,” I say softly.

Gabe turns around, and suddenly those jade-colored eyes are on me again.

I can see his eyes clearly now.

It’s not recognition in those eyes.

It’s desire.

He doesn’t need to say anything to tell me know he wants me. His eyes do all the work for him, appraising me and searing his desire onto my flesh until my whole body heats up under his gaze.

He know what he’s doing. I can tell by the arrogant smirk on his face, the one he used to reserve for the other girls—the one that was never meant for me.

“Can I help you?” Gabe leans back against the balustrade, a cigarette dangling carelessly from his lips.

It’s dark out here, but I can still make out his strong jaw and chiseled features. His golden, sun-kissed skin reminds me of how far away he’s been from me, but his dark chestnut hair is just as it’s always been—tousled into a messy pile that I want to run my fingers through.

I swallow my nervousness and, realizing I need an excuse to be out here in the first place, I say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Can you spare a cigarette?”

Damn it, Jackie, I curse myself inwardly. You’ve never smoked a day in your life, and now you wanna start? Really? Is this unbelievably tense moment really the right time to try something new?

“Sure.” Gabe pulls out a pack from his suit pocket, flips the top up, and holds it out for me.

Gingerly, I reach out and take out one thin, white cigarette, hoping I look like I’ve done this many times before.

Okay. What do I do next?

Before I can ask for the lighter, Gabe holds up a silver, rectangular Zippo. As it glows under the moonlight, he gives me a wicked smile, like he’s inviting me into his dark world of deadly vices.

He never used to let me join in when he was smoking with my brothers. To be fair, I was sixteen when It happened and Gabe went away.

A dull, metallic sound fills the air between us when Gabe flicks open his Zippo and lights it up. The little flame dances, casting a warm light onto his handsome face.

Alright. Now I just have to put the cigarette between my lips and lean closer…

All of a sudden, Gabe pulls the lighter away and slaps the cigarette out of my mouth.

My jaw hangs open as I watch it fall without a sound, unlit and unsmoked. A new, pristine cigarette on the floor.

“Hey!” I protest. Even through the alcoholic fog in my mind, I know that was strange. “What did you do that for?”

“You don’t smoke,” he says matter-of-factly.

He’s right, of course. But there’s no way he knows that, unless he’s recognized me. And I’m sure he hasn’t.

“I do,” I insist.

“No, you don’t. You had the cigarette backward.” A lopsided smile plays on his lips. He knows he’s won this battle.

Heat creeps across my face. I drop my gaze, afraid he’s going to discover other embarrassing things about me—like the fact that I’ve had a crush on him my whole life.

That’s unlikely, though, seeing as he doesn’t even know who I am.

Hey, maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe I can walk away and not have him remember me as this weird klutz who talks a big game but has nothing to back it up. Maybe I can show up another day and pretend none of this ever happened. Maybe I can be someone else tonight.

“There’s always a first time,” I say, emboldened by my realization.

Gabe chuckles. “It’s not gonna be tonight.”

“Can’t you teach me how to smoke?”

“Nope.” As if to mock me, Gabe raises his hand up to his mouth, the one with a lit cigarette between his long, graceful fingers.

“You’re a jerk.”

“I’m a jerk for not wanting you to start smoking?” Gabe huffs a small laugh.

“Why not? Everybody else out here is smoking. Is it just because I’m a woman?”

“It’s not because you’re a woman. I’ll admit you’re persistent, which is a good trait to have for a smoker, because you have to get through the first few bitter cigarettes before it starts to taste good.” Gabe pauses to shoot me a smile, then adds, “But you’re too beautiful to smoke.”

Did he just…?

I didn’t hear wrong. Gabe really did just call me beautiful.

Holy shit.

He never talked to me like this before.

He never looked at me like this either.

It turns out all I need to get Gabe’s attention is a whole new identity. Who’d have thought?

As a round of applause escapes the banquet hall and into the outdoors, I automatically twist to look behind me.

“Maybe you should go back inside. Your date must be looking for you.” Gabe gives me a teasing smile. “Maybe he’ll teach you how to smoke.”

“I didn’t come here with a date.” As soon as I hear my own words, I realize it’s not the best comeback. But I’m tipsy, so whatever.

“Oh, you came here with your Mommy and Daddy?” Gabe taunts me.

“No, I came here with a friend,” I say curtly. “And I’m staying here, on the balcony. You don’t get to tell me where to go. It’s a free country.”

Gabe laughs. “Suit yourself, angel.”

He just called me beautiful a few minutes ago, and now it’s angel.

He’s flirting with me, right?

And yet he’s telling me to leave at the same time and exasperating me with his taunts.

I’m older and wiser now, but I get the feeling that I’m still way out of my depths with Gabe.

It’s not a surprise, really. It’s not like I’ve been gaining any experience with guys. And it’s all because I’ve had this one guy stuck in my mind all along.

“I’m staying,” I say stubbornly as I take a few steps toward the balustrade and lean forward like Gabe did.

My forearms land a little too hard on the rough stone, but I just bite my lip to stifle my whimper and act like nothing’s wrong.

Maybe Gabe is right after all. Maybe I shouldn’t be emulating him.

“Like you said, it’s a free country.” Gabe appears beside me and leans on the balustrade with complete ease. He takes another puff, and the smell of burned tobacco spreads all around me.

“You know second-hand smoking is just as bad as active smoking, right?” I keep my tone light and easy, acting like I’m just asking a random question.

Gabe laughs. “I’m aware of that. I am a doctor.”

I don’t understand why physicians smoke when they know the dangers of it. I used to think Gabe was a rare exception, but even in medical school, there have always been a handful of my peers who smoke.

“So why won’t you just give me one of your poison sticks, then?” I ask.

“It’s different,” he says with a chuckle.

“How?”

“You can’t develop a habit of second-hand smoking.”

“I can if I hang around long enough.”

Gabe smirks, locks my gaze, and says, “It’s not gonna be from my smoking, angel. I don’t stick around long enough to be anyone’s habit.”

The danger lurking in Gabe’s green eyes sends a chill down my arms.

“Looks like we have a few minutes to kill together, though,” Gabe says. “Tell me your name.”

“Jacqueline.”

“You remind me of someone, Jacqueline.” He studies my face, sending my heart racing with his intense gaze.

Does he know?

“What’s your last name?” Gabe asks.

“Summers. Jacqueline Summers.”

What am I doing?

I’ve taken this case of mistaken identity far enough. I should just tell Gabe what’s really going on. It’s not too late to admit it.

On the other hand, it’s not exactly a lie because after the divorce, Mom changed my last name to match her maiden last name, so Gabe knows me by another name.

But as I watch his expression, I realize lying is the way to go. As he exhales, his lips tug up into a small smile.

“Jacqueline, huh? Beautiful name,” he says.

“Thanks.”

“So, Jacqueline, there’s something I need to ask you.” Gabe smiles as arrogance dances in his eyes. “You obviously didn’t come out here to smoke, or even to learn to smoke. If you were to ask one of these gentlemen—” he gestures at the other guys in suits on the balcony “—I’m sure at least one of them would help you pick up smoking.”

Gabe pauses, letting his words sink in, checking to see that I understand what he’s saying.

He’s telling me that he knows.

I should’ve known he’d see right through me. There’s no way he wouldn’t recognize me. Yes, I was younger then, but we spent a ton of time together.

“Tell me, Jacqueline, why did you really come out here?” Gabe asks.

My heart jumps into my throat. Even my head is throbbing now.

Oh, shit.

He knows who I am. Game’s over.

“Did you come out here for me?” Gabe’s sharp gaze pierces through my mask, probing me inside.

“Yes,” I admit, looking out into the open ocean.

“I like your honesty. But a good girl like you really should stay away from me. I’m not the eligible bachelor your parents probably tell you I am.”

Wait, what?

I twist to see Gabe, and realize he’s still the same guy as before. Dark and dangerous—not easy and brotherly like he used to be.

His gaze roams all over my body, hungry and demanding.

Then it hits me.

He thinks I came out here to seduce him.

That’s why he said the thing about not sticking around. He wanted me to know this is going to be about meaningless sex.

Emboldened by the alcohol in my system, I say, “Maybe I’m not looking for an eligible bachelor.”

“You think you can handle me, angel?” He cocks an eyebrow, challenging me.

My heart flips at the dark promise in his question. Somehow, I manage to come up with a bravado-laden response: “Bring it on.”