“This was your idea,” Olivia insisted for the tenth time as she dragged Lena down the block toward the club. Sheer panic had set in and adrenaline had her racing down the street, heedless of the throngs of drunk club goers who cluttered the sidewalk as they smoked their cigarettes and talked too loudly amongst themselves.

As soon as Jessie and Camille left, reason had returned with a vengeance. So did her horror. Only a stiff drink and Lena’s constant reassurance that she could fix this situation before it blew out of control kept her from hyperventilating through the remainder of her shift. Luckily their boss had let them off early because it had been so slow, but Olivia hadn’t been able to go home. Not yet. Not until she handled this.

“No, no, no,” Lena argued, her Puerto Rican accent more pronounced now that she’d had a few drinks under her belt. “I suggested you ask Drew to be your date. I didn’t say you should lie about him being your date without his permission.”

This was true, Olivia couldn’t argue with that. The distinction was rather crucial because in Lena’s scenario, Drew would have presumably said yes to being her date. A long shot and a humiliating prospect, but not quite as humiliating as the predicament in which she currently found herself.

“Are you sure he still works here?” she asked.

Lena nodded. “Avery came into the bar last week while I was working. She was on her way to see Drew perform here.”

Avery was one of their mutual friends, and probably the only one who was actually still friends with everyone in the group. She was ridiculously sweet and always saw the good in people. Her only downside? She gossiped. So did Avery’s best friend, Kimmie, who’d always been closer to Camille. Kimmie had never outright chosen a side, but it was understood that if a line had been drawn in the sand, she would have flocked to Camille’s side.

But the point was, it made sense that Avery had gone to see Drew perform. Of course she was still supportive of the group’s favorite bad boy. And it also made sense that Drew still worked here—it was a cushy gig when he was in college and probably just as convenient for him now. He did marketing and web design for a live music venue downtown. Not only was the pay decent, but he got to fill in when bands canceled and take opening acts when they needed a band.

The club came into view as they rounded a corner and her stomach went into a freefall. Please don’t do this. Please don’t make me do this. The wussy little voice would not be silenced.

But she had to do this. There was no other way. The moment Camille and Jessie had left the bar, the full reality of what she’d done smacked her in the face.

Lena had rushed over hissing, “Do you know what you’ve done?”

She’d doubled over the bar, ready to throw up or maybe faint. It had all been so clear. So obvious. If there was one thing she could count on with her former close group of friends it was this—they would talk. They always talked. Gossip was their main form of currency and she had just handed over the winning lottery ticket.

Jessie might keep his mouth shut, but Camille—oh Lord, Camille—she’d probably already called Avery and Kimmie. It was just a matter of time before it reached Drew. She might even be too late now.

That thought had her coming to a halt, Lena running into her at the sudden stop. Oh shit, what if he already knew? He would have laughed. And then he’d have told them the truth. That she was a liar—a big, fat liar. Jessie would know that she’d made it up just to get to him. Camille would be smugger than ever knowing that she’d had to lie about having a date.

Oh God, this was so bad. She’d made such an epic mistake.

“Girl, you’ve got to breathe.” Lena was watching her with a concerned expression, as if Olivia might faint right there in front of the club.

Breathe. Right, she could do that.

She straightened her spine and took a deep breath, realizing as she did that she was still clinging to Lena’s arm, quite possibly cutting off circulation to her hand. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Lena slung an arm around her shoulders. “No problem. Come on, chica, let’s get this over with.”

Olivia nodded, hoping to absorb some of her friend’s courage. It didn’t work. But Lena’s grip moving her forward did. There was no turning back now. She somehow had to make this right. If someone had told her a little over a year ago that she’d be scared to talk to Drew, her very best friend, she would have laughed. They used to talk about everything. Everything. Even the kind of girl stuff she’d thought guys were squeamish about. Nope, not Drew. Nothing rattled him. He was the first person she’d felt free to talk about anything with, confident that there would be no judgments and no talking behind her back. But now everything was different. Everything had changed, and all because of that awful night of karaoke.

Still, enough time had passed. Surely he was over it by now. She tried to convince herself of that as they drew close to the club, the sounds of a drum and bass seeping out onto the dark street. Of course he was over it. She was probably the only one still obsessing over all that ancient history. He’d moved on, she was sure of it.

She didn’t know what had prompted him to sing to her that night, but if there was one thing she knew…whatever he’d been feeling then, he was over it now. He had the attention span of a gnat when it came to romantic relationships with women. She’d always known that about him. That was why she’d always been so grateful he was her friend. As a friend he’d been loyal to a fault—but as a boyfriend? He’d have been a disaster. Even if he’d been interested in her like that at the beginning—and that was a big if—it would have ended before it began and then they wouldn’t have been able to be such good friends.

She’d thought he’d been on the same page. How many times had he told her that she was different from all the other girls in his life? There was only one reason for that—because they’d all slept with him. She was different because she’d stayed his friend and only his friend.

She still couldn’t figure out where the disconnect had occurred. He’d been drunk. It was a mistake. That she could understand, and she’d been ready to tell him that on graduation night.

If only he hadn’t been such an ass the last time she’d seen him. If he hadn’t been a dick when she’d tried to talk that last night at the bar, she wouldn’t be so scared now. She probably would have even seen him since then. Maybe they could have gone back to being friends. This could have all been in the past….

Her fantasy of what could have been vanished as she found herself facing the bald, bulky bouncer.

“Hi there.” She gave an awkward little wave before digging into her purse for her ID, Lena fishing for hers in her back pocket.

Once they were inside, Olivia felt like she’d stepped back in time. Nothing had changed since the last time she’d been here more than a year ago. She’d come to pick Drew up from work and they’d gone out for drinks. They’d ended the night at a falafel truck nearby. She remembered because she’d nearly died choking on the dry ball of fried chickpeas when Drew had made her laugh. For the life of her she couldn’t remember what he’d said that was so funny, just that he’d had to slap her back to help her breathe.

Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and her gaze automatically moved to the stage. It wasn’t Drew’s band. For all she knew he might not even be working tonight. Maybe this was his night off, maybe he’d gone home already, maybe he’d gotten a text from Avery asking about his status as her plus one and had died laughing, maybe—

“Livvy?”

Maybe he was standing right next to her.

She turned slowly to face him and then wished she hadn’t. In fact, she wished she hadn’t come at all. He was only a few feet away, his brows drawn together in confusion as though he wasn’t sure if it was really her.

“Hi, Drew.” Yup, really me.

He snapped out of it. The dazed look vanished and was replaced by a cocky grin. It was one she recognized well. It made him look like he’d just heard a joke, probably at her expense.

He took a step forward so he was in her space and she forgot how to breathe. He looked the same—same tousled brown hair, same soulful dark eyes, same shit-eating grin. She supposed it made sense that he hadn’t changed dramatically. It had only been one year. Still, it felt like an eternity since she’d seen him.

A new kind of panic set in—one that had nothing to do with Jessie and Camille and everything to do with the overwhelming surge of emotions that were too jumbled to sort through.

She wasn’t ready for this. Seeing him now was a vivid reminder of how close they used to be. Everything about him was so familiar but light years away because nothing was how it used to be. It was like seeing a vision from a past life. A life she missed. A life to which she wanted to return.

She drew in a deep breath as his eyes moved over her, taking in her hideous uniform and low ponytail. Ugh, why hadn’t she at least stopped at the apartment first to change? Not that it mattered. She wasn’t here to impress Drew, just reason with him. Make him understand that she might have succumbed to a fit of insanity and lied about him being her date, but she’d fix it. She wasn’t sure how yet, but she’d handle it. All he had to do was go along with the lie for a little while.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

Valid question, but it still made her stiffen and her throat clog up with emotions. A year ago he wouldn’t have asked that. He would have enveloped her in a hug—his patented giant bear hug that squeezed all the air out of her lungs—plant a big, wet kiss on her cheek and say how happy he was to see her.

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t have outright said, “I’m so happy to see you” but she would have known he was happy to see her because of his smile and his hugs and his overall happy demeanor.

Instead he kept just out of touching distance as he studied her like she was a particularly ludicrous modern art exhibit.

“Hi,” she said again. It just kind of slipped out. A syllable to fill the void. She didn’t answer his question because she didn’t know what to say. What was she doing here?

Where to begin…

Besides, her body and her brain seemed to be stunned. A little portion of her mind was watching from a distance. Maybe this was an out-of-body experience. But instead of seeing the light or heading toward some tunnel, she was stuck watching herself stand there like an idiot. Speak, woman! Nope. Apparently all she was capable of was generic meaningless greetings. She opened her mouth but closed it again quickly, afraid that if she didn’t another “hi” would slip out.

But Drew seemed just as stricken by her appearance. After all, it wasn’t like he was chatting away. He was staring too. His gaze was moving over her, taking her in in all her uniformed glory.

A flicker of hope shot through her at his answering silence. Maybe he was just as moved at the sight of her. Maybe he was aching to bridge this gap between them. Maybe he was trying to think of the right words to make it all—

“Miss me, sweetheart?” His words were slurred as he leaned forward. He was so close she could smell the alcohol on his breath and see the way his eyes were slightly unfocused.

Oh shit. Maybe he was just drunk.

His smile was sloppy as he reached a hand out and pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. Her hair had always been too fine to stay back for long and he’d developed a habit of tucking it out of her face whenever she tried and failed to pull it back.

The gesture was so familiar….and so absolutely meaningless. He was drunk, that was all. Apparently she was the only one drowning in nostalgia over here.

That thought helped her come to her senses. She shook her head slightly and took a step back. “I needed to talk to you.”

“Uh huh.” He took a step toward her again, closing the gap. “What about?”

The music playing through the speakers started to lower and the lights dimmed as a new band took the stage. She found herself looking out of habit, as if she might recognize them. Fat chance. She was so not hip to the cool music scene. Drew was the one who knew all the new bands. He’d been the one to expose her to different bands and new styles. He’d even helped her appreciate jazz, though she still wasn’t a fan.

Her musings on music came to a halt as his hand touched her hair again. This time he was tugging on a strand, gently but insistently to get her attention once again. Not like she’d forgotten he was there. Her little trip down musical memory lane had been a lame attempt to procrastinate on answering. Well, you see, I told a little lie tonight….

She really, really, really didn’t want to have this conversation. So instead she stared at her former best friend, uselessly wishing that she could rewind time.

His gaze flickered over toward the stage and then back to her. “If you want to talk, you’d better start speaking, Livvy. My band is up next. I’ve got to go get ready in a few minutes.”

“Oh. Right.” She tried to swallow but her throat was too tight. Her mouth too dry. She licked her lips, willing herself to start talking.

But then no amount of saliva or brain power could have made her speak. One needed air to speak and she’d stopped breathing. His gaze had lowered to her lips when she’d licked them and they never wavered. He was still staring and her lips parted as if on command. She was just trying to breathe, damn it, but his gaze darkened and her entire body reacted to the shift. The air between them throbbed with energy and tension. The music coming from the stage faded into the background. All she could hear was her heart beating in her ears as he leaned in closer.

“Why did you come here, Livvy?” He was so close. So dangerously, dauntingly close.

She didn’t know. For the life of her she couldn’t remember what she was doing there. It didn’t seem important. Nothing mattered beyond this…whatever this was.

His hand moved from her hair, brushing over her cheek before his thumb found her lower lip and lightly stroked it.

Oh holy shit. An electric heat shot through her at the intimate contact. Her breath was coming in short bursts now, dangerously close to panting. The air was thick between them and his eyes—oh hell, those eyes. They’d always been his best feature. He had all-around sex appeal but it was those eyes that had always made him irresistible. She’d watched woman after woman lose her shit over those eyes—eyes that seemed to look into one’s soul during intimate conversations. Eyes that crinkled up at the corners when he laughed, making him adorable on top of hot, which was just overkill in her book. But right now, she forgot about how powerful his eyes were. She forgot that he used them to reel in women, plural. Always plural. He was the kind of guy who couldn’t be with one woman. Not without getting bored two minutes in. Hadn’t she always known that about him?

But right now, that knowledge was fleeting. The memory went in and out of her brain, too deep and ephemeral to hang on to when those eyes were fixed on her.

“What did you want to talk about, Livvy?” His voice was low and rough. The sound of her old nickname pierced her heart and made it sting.

“I, uh…” Then she remembered what it was she was there to tell him and it was as effective as a splash of cold water in her face. She cleared her throat and straightened. He let his hand drop and once he wasn’t touching her, she could think again.

Sort of.

Her brain still felt sluggish and a small whiny voice seemed insistent on reminding her how good it had felt when he’d been touching her.

“I, uh, needed to talk to you,” she tried again.

His brows pulled together for a moment in a look of amused confusion. “Yeah, you said that. What’s up?”

She swallowed convulsively under his watchful stare. “Before you say anything, I just want you to know that I’ll fix this,” she said so quickly it came out as one long word.

“Okay,” he drawled. The amusement was growing in his eyes and his lips tilted up at the corners.

Shit. It had been so long since she’d seen him she’d lost her immunity. She used to consider herself lucky—because she was his best friend and constantly around his charm and sex appeal, it didn’t have the same effect on her. She’d grown used to it to some extent. Plus, it was never aimed in her direction. She’d been his buddy, his sidekick, the girl he talked to about his conquests and one-night-stands.

She’d been safe from…this. This overwhelming effect he had on females. Damn it, she hadn’t prepared herself. She was defenseless in the face of his sexy onslaught.

She took a deep breath. Just get it out. Say the words. I lied about you being my date to Jessie’s wedding.

“Jessie.” He murmured his former friend and her ex-boyfriend’s name and for a second she thought that he’d read her mind. Her mouth fell open. “Yeah, how did you—” And then she realized that his sexy eyes were no longer fixed on her. They were looking just past her. The sinking feeling in her stomach started before she turned her head, almost like she knew whom she’d see there.

Even with that intuition, the sight of Jessie and Camille standing just behind her left her winded, like she’d just run a mile. “Hello,” she breathed.

Oh, hello. Greetings were all she could manage today. Wonderful.

Camille was grinning at them in a decidedly smug manner. Like a proud mama or something. She looked from Olivia to Drew and the smile grew.

Olivia couldn’t bring herself to look at Jessie to see his reaction at seeing her here with Drew. A year had passed but she still felt awkward being in the same room as these two men after the way things had ended.

If Camille picked up on the tension, she didn’t acknowledge it. In true Camille fashion, she wore her bravado like a badge. Make way for the boldest badass in town, folks. “When Liv told us about you guys, I almost didn’t believe it,” she said. Her voice was too loud, even in the loud club. The bass and drum didn’t stand a chance against her shrill tone.

Drew looked to her with a question in his eyes. He had no clue what Camille was talking about.

No! Camille was going to bring up her lie. No no no no.

Words blurted out of her mouth. “What are you guys doing here?”

Okay, judging by Drew’s raised brows and the startled look on Camille and Jessie’s faces she might have surpassed Camille in the shrill department. With a concerted effort she lowered her voice to a normal pitch. “I mean, I just saw you guys uptown a couple hours ago. What are you doing down here?”

Why? She wanted to shriek. Why couldn’t you give me twenty-four hours to make this lie right before coming down here and ruining everything? She kept her mouth shut, but just barely.

Catching sight of Lena at the bar, she exchanged a quick look of wide-eyed horror with her friend before turning back to the others.

“We caught a movie at the Forum,” Jessie said, slipping an arm around Camille.

Olivia tried not to stare at that arm. She remembered that arm. Remembered what it felt like to have it snugly wrapped around her just like that.

She shivered as a chill raced through her. “Oh,” she responded eloquently. “That’s nice.”

“Kimmie told me that Drew was performing tonight,” Camille continued. “She and Avery are coming down to catch his show and we thought…” Camille trailed off and looked behind her meaningfully. Olivia caught Jessie’s tight-lipped look. She knew that look. She remembered what it felt like when he’d given her that same look. He was annoyed with his fiancée.

Awww, that’s too bad.

Snarky internal voices aside, Olivia picked up on what Camille had left unspoken. They’d come to talk to Drew.

About her? Paranoia had her clutching her stomach. When Drew cast her a questioning look, she tried to make it look like she was straightening her ugly ass green work shirt. There was every possibility their sudden appearance had nothing to do with her. Though it was hard to believe that it was a coincidence. Their little visit had something to do with their belief that he was going to be her plus one to the wedding. Maybe Camille wanted the boys to make nice before the big day.

One look at Jessie’s expression confirmed it. He looked like someone had shoved a dagger up his bum. He had that tight-lipped, judgy expression going on. She knew that look. He was here against his will. She’d bet money he’d been dragged here to make nice for the sake of their wedding.

Crap. At times like this knowing all the players in their little drama was more of a burden than anything. She knew exactly what was going on here, and exactly how it would end.

In her public humiliation. In Jessie and Camille laughing at her. Or worse, pitying her.

She couldn’t let that happen. She had to salvage this. She had to tell Drew before he heard it from them. Better yet… A plan started to take hold. Albeit not a great plan, but it was better than letting Camille take the lead.

“If you’re here because of what I told you earlier,” she said, casting a quick look in Drew’s direction before focusing on Camille. “There’s no need. Our situation has, er…it’s changed.”

Camille stared at her blankly. “So he’s not coming to our wedding as your plus one?”

Subtlety, thy name is Camille.

The silence following that high-pitched announcement left Olivia clenching her fists. God, what she wouldn’t give to smack Camille upside the head, just once. She couldn’t bring herself to look in Drew’s direction, though she could feel the weight of his gaze on her and could imagine his response.

Initially he’d be confused. But even drunk, he’d figure out what had happened. And then how would he react? Laughter, most likely, and at her expense. Mockery, definitely. She closed her eyes briefly and said a little prayer that there was no pity.

Pity from Drew she couldn’t handle. And there was nothing to pity, anyway. It had been a stupid lie, not some desperate attempt to see him again. And if she’d wanted a date she could have found one…probably.

Maybe.

Whatever. The point was, there was no reason she should feel so embarrassed. It had been a little white lie, that was all. A stupid, ill-conceived, little white lie, obviously, but that was all. It didn’t mean anything.

And Drew was tipsy. The thought brought a wave of relief. He probably wasn’t even aware of what was happening. He’d be slow, incoherent even. She had a chance to put an end to it right now before she could get into even more trouble. Before Drew’s drunk brain caught up to speed and managed to come up with a way to torture her with this bit of news.

“Exactly,” she said just a tad too loudly. She saw Jessie and Camille looking toward Drew, who was probably not even trying to hide his amusement at her predicament. Stepping in front of him, she tried to regain their attention. “You see, I got my dates mixed up.” She slapped a hand to her forehead. “I’m so bad with dates.”

Okay, she was overselling it now. She wasn’t bad at dates and everyone around her knew it. She hurried on anyway. “I realized my mistake and told him the right dates tonight and it turns out that he can’t go to your wedding after all.”

She’d said it in a rush and now Camille blinked at her. She glanced back at Jessie but his expression was inscrutable. Was that relief she saw in his eyes? A hint of something she didn’t want to name had her heart racing at the thought. Had he been that upset at the idea of her bringing Drew as her date? There’d always been a rivalry between them, maybe he was jealous or—

“Change of plans.” Drew’s voice behind her made her jump. When had he moved so close? His voice was right in her ear. She turned her head slightly. Oh hell, his mouth was right there. Her eyes seemed to fixate on his lips, which were cocked up in a lopsided smile that made her breath catch in her throat.

She remembered that smile.

Too late she remembered what that smile meant. He was up to something. She dragged her gaze up to meet his and…oh shit. The amusement she saw there was undeniable. He might have been drunk but she saw the wheels turning. He understood clearly what was happening here.

All eyes were on Drew. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped. What could she do? Beg for mercy in front of Camille and Jessie? No, there was nothing she could do to stop him and he knew it. The mischievous glint in his eyes made that clear.

She found herself begging mentally anyway. Please don’t do this to me. Please, please, please don’t out me as the lying idiot I am.

Drew’s grin grew as he threw an arm around her shoulders. For one fleeting instant, it felt like old times. This was something he would have done back then. Before the karaoke incident, which had become something of a turning point in her life, she realized. Life had turned into before karaoke night and after. An arm around her shoulders all casual-like? This was pre-karaoke for sure.

“Change of plans,” he said again. He turned his gaze to Jessie and Camille. “I was just about to tell Livvy here that I can change my other plans. There’s no way I’d miss this wedding.”

Olivia stared up at him, unable to tear her eyes away from his profile. What new hell was this? Her heart picked up its pace as she tried to figure out what his game plan was. To ditch her at the last minute so she’d be dateless?

She was blinking in incomprehension. Why hadn’t he told them that her claim had been a lie? That they’d never even spoken until tonight.

He turned his head down to face her and any dim hope that he’d acted out of a sense of chivalry, or maybe even out of some lingering sense of camaraderie, vanished at the sight. His eyes held a wicked gleam. He wasn’t doing this to be nice.

He was going to torture her. Make her life hell.

Her stomach plummeted. Why did he hate her so much? At what point had he decided that their three and a half years of friendship were so meaningless that he could cast them aside just because of one embarrassing night?

Yes, she’d run out of there. And yeah, maybe she should have talked to him when he’d chased her down. She’d been drinking too, though, and she’d lashed out in anger. They’d both acted stupid, they’d both said things they didn’t mean. Or sang things they didn’t mean. Whatever. It was college, they’d been drinking, it happened.

True friends were supposed to get over that sort of thing. Hell, she’d forgiven Jessie for cheating on her and Camille for stealing her boyfriend. Sorta. Well, she was working on it, anyway. Couldn’t he forgive her for rejecting him that night?

Her eyes pleaded with him now as she gave him a shameless look of entreaty. Whatever evil agenda you have, please let it go.

His smile grew and she knew she’d lost. She was vaguely aware of Camille speaking next to them.

“So you’ll both be at the wedding?” she asked. Her voice sounded slightly strained. “Together?”

Drew glanced over at her. “Yup. Wouldn’t miss it.” He turned those smirking lips back to Olivia and she resisted the urge to slap them.

Or kiss them.

What? No. Kissing was off limits. That would only make everything worse. That’s what had gotten them into this trouble in the first place, wasn’t it? Sexual attraction. That magical, mystical force that had been largely invisible between them right up until Drew shined a spotlight on it.

“Great,” Camille said. “That’s great. The whole gang will be back together again. Isn’t it great, Jessie?”

Olivia couldn’t bring herself to look away from Drew but she didn’t have to look at Jessie to know that this wasn’t great. Not for him. He had just as much baggage with Drew as she did, though neither of them had ever told her what went down between them after she’d run away that night.

Drew had stopped talking to her, then Jessie had broken up with her. There’d never been a chance to talk things through. To figure out what the hell had happened to their perfect little threesome.

“Yeah, great,” she heard Jessie mutter with an utter lack of enthusiasm.

Even though she heard their voices, her ex and her ex-friend were on the periphery of her awareness. She was too absorbed in this silent communication going on between her and Drew. It largely consisted of him smirking at her and her pleading with her eyes, but still. It was engrossing.

Then Camille shoved herself between them, coming to stand too close as she grabbed Olivia by the wrist…hard. For a tiny stick of a thing, Camille had a surprisingly tough grip.

“Liv, why don’t you and I grab a drink at the bar while these boys talk.” Camille gave her arm a wrench and she was forced to follow.

She threw one last look over her shoulder and saw both “boys” watching them walk away. Jessie’s mouth was set in a grim line like he was about to undertake an odious task, which she supposed he was, if her guess was right.

And Drew…well, his expression was harder to read. He didn’t seem to be aware of Jessie at all as his eyes met hers. She was the first to look away. She had to turn back around lest she run into someone in the crowded bar area.

But she didn’t want to walk away. Not again. She didn’t want to leave things unresolved.

Who the hell knew what Drew would say if she wasn’t there?