I take a deep breath as I enter the party.

It’s Ashley and Christopher’s first joint soiree and as much as I’d wanted to refuse the invitation for fear of seeing Xavier, in the end I’d decided not to chicken out. I’d known what I was getting into when I’d started hooking up with Xavier, known that there would be times I’d have to see him after it ended. This was what I’d signed up for as soon as I’d let him touch me.

No use prolonging the inevitable. So I was ripping off the Band-Aid.

Yes, I hadn’t meant to fall in love, but that was my problem, not his. I’d agreed to the terms, now I had to pay the price.

I hug Ashley, scanning the room for the man in question, breathing a sigh of relief when I don’t see him. Ashley stands back and surveys me with a huge smile on her face. “You look fantastic.”

I smile. At least I’ve got that going for me. “Thanks.”

Christopher, with his easy grin and mischievous eyes, nods. “Very nice.”

I laugh and swat him on the arm before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“It wouldn’t be a party without you.” Christopher jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Wine’s good.”

He wanders off to retrieve my drink and Ashley flicks a lock of my hair. “You really look fantastic. I love what you did with your hair.”

“I got a blow out.” Another one, wanting to look extra good tonight. But this time, instead of sleek, I’d picked the beach waves, and the girl who’d worked on me had created some sort of magic, fashioning my curls into a fun, wavy mess that flattered my features.

I’d also treated myself to getting my makeup done, and my eyes were smoky, and brilliant, highlighting the blueness. I had no idea my eyes could look so blue, and when I’d gotten dressed in my short, flirty plaid skirt and black top, I couldn’t help being pleased with the results.

No, I didn’t look like one of Xavier’s models, because I never would, but I looked damn good. Not surprising, the breakup diet worked just as well for me as it did for every other girl, and I’d lost about ten pounds, all in my stomach.

It accentuated my hourglass shape, which I’d never gone back to hiding after Xavier’s adoration of it. I looked pretty, and a bit sexy. Not words I’d have thought to describe myself, but felt true tonight.

It was as much as I could hope for, and the confidence would make seeing him at least a little better. I fully expected him to show up with some gorgeous, leggy redhead or blonde that would put me to shame. But that was life.

Ashley and I walk over to the rest of Christopher’s friends and I wave to them. Ted and Shelly are on the couch, and he has his arm around his tiny, spitfire girlfriend.

Shelly grins at me before whistling. “Damn, girl, where have you been hiding?”

A flush rolls up my neck and I shrug. “It’s a party, right?”

“It certainly is,” Shelly says. “It’s so good to see you again.” She pats a spot next to her. “Come have a seat.”

Jace winks at me. He’s a good-looking blond, with high cheekbones and an easy demeanor. “Careful there, Tessa, Shelly might hit on you.”

I settle on the couch next to her, crossing my legs and tugging down my skirt when my thigh flashes. Yes, okay, I admit it; I wore thigh-high tights because I needed to feel sexy, powerful and in control. I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

Christopher walks over and places a glass of wine in my hands, before glancing around. “Now all we need is X to make the party complete.”

I can’t help it, and I stiffen, shifting in my seat.

Next to me, Shelly narrows her gaze, studying me. I take a sip of my wine and ignore the look. Vowing to do better.

“Is he coming?” Jace asks, crossing his ankle over his jeans-covered knee. “He’s been in such a shit mood I wasn’t sure.”

I peer down at my nails, not wanting my expression to reveal anything. I’ve never told anyone, not even Ashley, about him. I didn’t want to make it awkward for her and Christopher, and I knew Xavier would never admit what happened between us. So my secrets were safe, no matter how exposed I felt.

“He said he’ll be here,” Ted says.

“Cool.” Jace nods.

The conversation seems to pass, and I shift my attention back to the small group. There are pockets of people littering the apartment and everyone seems to be having a good time. If I drink enough, maybe I’ll have a good time too.

I take a huge gulp of the wine, wondering if I should have asked for something stronger, quicker. I swirl the liquid in the goblet, for something to do, only to catch Shelly’s watchful expression. Intent on me. Questioning.

I smile and clear my throat. “How’s life as a neurosurgeon?”

She raises a brow. “Pretty good. I got a fellowship at the University of Chicago, so that’s exciting.”

“Wow! I’m impressed.” I beam at her. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” She twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “What’s going on with you?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, really. Just teaching young minds.”

“And nothing else?” Her tone sounds suspicious, but it’s probably my paranoia.

“Nope.” I shrug my shoulder. “I’m as boring as ever.”

“Uh-huh.” Her expression is speculative, her eyes light with mischief. “Are you dating anyone?”

My cheeks heat, and I curse blushing so easily, even though my answer is truthful. “No, not right now.”

“But you were, dating someone, that is?” Shelly’s gaze narrows in on me.

I shake my head but I’m saved from having to answer when Ted pokes Shelly in the ribs and she jumps.

“Why are you grilling the poor girl?” Ted asks, his tone exasperated.

“I’m not. It was a simple question,” Shelly returns, huffing before crossing her arms over her chest.

I’ve noticed Ted and Shelly like to spar and I see the light of challenge in both their faces, like they are relishing the battle. Personally, I’ve never understood the appeal. I’ve always been calm and easygoing. It takes too much energy to fight.

I think of all the times Xavier and I spent on my couch, talking and laughing, our conversation relaxed. I miss him. Even though he doesn’t deserve it.

Miss the way he smiles at me.

The way he touches my hair when I’m talking to him.

Miss the way he pouts when he loses at cards.

The way he took my hand when we walked around the city.

Or watched me when he didn’t think I was looking.

There’d been no volatility between us. No vying for leverage and position. Our excitement came in our passion. In the adventures we shared together.

I sigh. So, yes, I miss it.

In the two weeks since I’ve seen him I’ve read the entire library of Jane Austen and both the Bronte sisters. Immersing myself in romantic fantasies for lack of any other option.

Maybe it wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but it was all I could think of at the moment. It was hardly the worst coping mechanism either; there were far more self-destructive things I could engage in.

I’d get through the heartbreak. I knew I would. Because one thing this experience has taught me is that I deserve the very best. I deserve someone who loves me the way I want to be loved. But, nobody is going to give it to me, I have to take it, demand it.

I’ve learned, my problem has always been not that I’m unexciting, but that I was passively waiting for something to happen to me. That wasn’t how life worked. I have to go after it. I had to seize the day, so to speak.

It sucks I needed to get my heart broken before I learn that life lesson, but it is what it is. Better than not at all.

So, I’m doing the best I can. As soon as I see him the first time and get it over with, the easier it will be. The faster I’ll get over him.

I believe this wholeheartedly.

Then he walks in the door.

Stomach bottoming out, my throat goes tight, and my eyes well.

From across the room our gazes lock onto each other.

I square my shoulders and stand my ground.

* * *

As bad as I feel, is as good as she looks.

How can she not be suffering the same way I am? I’m low on sleep—even for a trauma surgeon—and short on temper. One look at her in her cute, sexy little skirt, clingy top, carefree hair, and bright blue eyes and I want to storm over there and confront her. The desire to grab her, haul her out of her seat, and shake her fills me. I want to yell that she should feel as shitty as I do, that she should not be going on with her life without me.

In other words, I’m completely deranged and unhinged.

It has not been a good couple of weeks.

Just looking at her makes me feel desperate. I hate it. I don’t do well needing people. And I don’t want to need her.

“Hey, glad you made it.” Christopher slugs me on the shoulder, jerking me from my thoughts.

I grit my teeth. “I can’t stay long.”

“Sure you can,” Ashley says, beaming her dazzling smile at me.

I’d meant to make an appearance to get them all off my back, but stupidly I thought Tessa wouldn’t come. Like an idiot, I thought she’d be too broken up and avoid me for at least a couple of months.

I didn’t expect her to be here looking like a goddamn ray of sunshine.

It… Infuriates me.

“What do you want to drink?” Christopher asks.

“Whatever.” I scan the people littering the living room in pockets of conversation, searching for a group I can go to, but all my friends are clustered together by the couch, and Tessa is impossible to escape.

I swallow hard and make my way over there. My chest is tight. I don’t know why, but it is. To everyone, while avoiding looking at Tessa, I say, “Hey.”

Ted nods and rubs at Shelly’s shoulder. “Rough night?”

I shrug and slink onto the empty chair to Tessa’s left. “I’ve had better.”

Shelly tilts her head, her expression speculative.

I raise a brow. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Oh nothing.”

Jace says, “When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

I don’t appreciate him mothering me in front of Tessa and I snap, “I’m good, all right?”

“All right.” Jace’s tone is mild, and I want to punch him.

Christ. I should not have come here. I’m not fit for company.

Tessa pulls at me, tugging my attention to her, insistent. Unable to resist the lure of her a moment longer, I glance at her.

Our eyes lock and then dart away.

Ashley and Christopher return, and he puts a glass of something brown into my hands.

I gulp it down. Bourbon. I think of that night at my nana’s drinking bourbon with my hand on Tessa’s knee. Right before everything went to shit.

Christopher frowns. “Another?”

“Sure.” I hand the glass back to him and he returns to the kitchen.

An uncomfortable silence fills our small group, broken only by the sound of music coming from the speakers.

Ashley clears her throat and waves at the woman haunting my every waking moment and most of my dreams. “Do you remember, Tessa?”

I scowl, my voice is irate when I say, “Of course I do.”

How could I forget?

“Oh, I wasn’t sure.” Ashley bites her lip, confusion etching in the lines of her cheeks.

“We’ve met.” The words are a hard bite.

Ashley offers a tentative smile. “Great.”

Christopher returns with another drink and I grip it tight. My mind whispers to let it go, but something inside won’t let me. “She’s your best friend, how could you think I’d forget her?”

Ashley’s eyes widen and she glances at Christopher who subtly shakes his head. She’s perched on the edge of the club chair where Christopher settles into. “I just couldn’t remember you guys ever talking.”

“We’ve talked.” My tone is so edgy I know I’m showing my hand, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I turn to Tessa. “Haven’t we?”

She narrows her gaze. “A few times.”

I laugh, hollow and bitter.

She darts her attention around the room as though she’s searching for an escape.

I drain the drink and it shoots straight to my head.

“I didn’t know,” Ashley says.

“I haven’t forgotten her,” I say again to no one in particular.

Tessa looks down at her wineglass.

“Good to know,” Ashley says.

Shelly opens her mouth to speak, but Ted pinches her.

She yelps and glares at him.

He shakes his head.

She huffs but settles back into the crook of his arm.

He kisses her temple.

Jealous anger directed at them surges through me, hot and unrelenting, thick in my blood. It takes me aback, like being slapped in the face. There’s no reason to be jealous of them. I don’t want what they have. I don’t want a relationship. Connection. Ties. All those things that make you vulnerable and needy. All those things that cut deep when they leave.

When they—the word whispers through my mind, shocking me—abandon you.

My attention swings to Tessa. Sweet, lovely, insatiable Tessa. She’s watching me with her blue eyes, wide and unblinking. Her expression creased. She’s distressed. I’m distressing her.

Something twists, hard and cold inside me.

My world tilts.

Bone-deep understanding seeps over me.

I’m…in love with her.

Somewhere, deep in the night, lying on the couch of her apartment, I’d fallen in love with her.

Panic breaks across my skin, making my heartbeat too fast, and cold sweat beads down my spine.

I stand up and say abruptly, “I’ll be back.”

Then I stalk into the bathroom and slam the door.

There’s no escape, because I’m already lost.

She can break me. I look into the mirror and see the harsh fear in my eyes.

She already has.