The kiss was like nothing I'd ever experienced. I'd had a few make-out sessions in my time, but Jeremy's lips were incredibly soft, and his kiss was hungry. The deep groan he let out had my nipples budded, my pussy wet and aching.

I pressed against him and slid my hands around to the top of his perfect ass. Tilting my head a little, I opened my mouth and coaxed his tongue to join mine in a slow, sensual dance.

Everywhere. I wanted him to touch me everywhere, to kiss me in every crevice and over every curve.

"Fuck," he whispered roughly as he broke the kiss. "I'm sorry. You just look so good here in the kitchen."

"No. Please don't be sorry." I lamented as he removed his strong hands from my face and stepped back. It would have been too needy to ask him not to let me go. I had too much pride, and I didn't want to end up hurt again.

"No, really. I shouldn't have-" he paused and searched my face with his warm brown eyes. Everything about him set my blood on fire and left my heart flipping over in my chest. "Pretend that didn't happen?"

"Yeah. Sure." I reached up and brushed my fingers over my lips before turning and walking back into the kitchen. "You needed a beer and a plate?" I changed my tone and shoved the need to cry down deep inside my chest. It was a mistake. He didn't mean to kiss me. He just fell into my arms, and his lips landed on mine. Right. Great.

"Yeah. And a plate?"

"The counter just beside the stove." I moved to the fridge without looking back. "Go check on Rhys and save him from Ellen, please? I'll bring you a beer in a second. I need to find the damn bottle opener."

"A bartender doesn't carry one with her at all times?" He was trying to soften the situation with misplaced humor.

"I manage the restaurant, but good try." I bent over and moved some shit around in the fridge until I heard him walk out. Tears burned my eyes as anger swelled in my stomach. What did I think? Something would come of us? He's been without a woman for two years or something crazy like that. Of course, he's lonely and wants a bedmate.

"Not me." I stepped back and put the beer on the counter to grab a paper towel. I blotted my eyes and forced myself to chill the hell out. Nothing was going to happen between us. Not back when we were kids, and sure as fuck not now. There were only a few people that could break my heart properly, and Jeremy Bennett was definitely one of them.

I needed some hope for a different scenario. I needed something to lean on to get through the next few days.

Edward.

Picking up Edward's card from the table and my phone, I texted him quickly to see if he might be free for an event at the museum or coffee over the next few days. His response was quick and positive.

Edward: I almost thought you forgot about me, Miss Wright.

Me: No. Just got busy with the holidays.

Edward: There's a midnight wine event tonight. Join me?

Me: Yes. What time.

Edward: How about I meet you at the doors just before midnight?

Me: Perfect. Black tie?

Edward: Come in anything you want. I'm sure you'll be beautiful no matter what.

Me: Thank you.

Edward: My pleasure.

I set the phone down and picked up Jeremy's beer. My hands were shaking from the high emotions flying around me. I'd yet to be good enough in a relationship with any of my previous boyfriends, and most of them physically reminded me of Edward, but emotionally, of Jeremy.

And things never worked out well.

Sucking my pride back down my throat, I walked out to the balcony and opened the door. Rhys, Ellen, and Jeremy were laughing about something Rhys had said.

"And then I tossed the damn phone in the lake." Rhys lifted the back of his hand and wiped his eyes. "It was the funniest shit ever."

"You did?" Ellen's eyes got wide.

I handed Jeremy his beer and moved over beside my brother, who wrapped a strong arm around me.

"Thanks, Bailey." Jeremy's gaze lingered a little too long before he turned to Ellen, leaving the moment awkward at best. "Yeah. My dad flipped his shit to find out that I pitched my cell phone over a girl."

"When did you realize that your ass was grass? Tell them." Rhys reached out and pushed at Jeremy's strong chest softly. "I love this part."

Jeremy glanced down at his beer and chuckled as if he were lost in the moment.

I could have so easily let myself love him. I'd been doing it for years, but the man I'd made him into over the long stint of time where I didn't see him wasn't the man he was today. And me pretending that prince charming existed wasn't fair. With the death of that hope came a wave of emotion I wasn't expecting, and honestly didn't want to process.

"I realized it the moment I chunked it. It was like... oh fuck. My dad." He glanced up at me as my eyes filled with tears again.

"Excuse me. Finish your story. Just need to check on a few things in the-" I let my voice fade as I slipped back inside and walked quickly to the kitchen. I'd been doing such a damn good job of keeping myself in check when he came into the bar. I played the friend, though I wanted to offer so much more. But the timing was off, and he was far too much man for me.

I flipped the burners off and made my way down the hall to the bathroom. The door closed behind me, and I locked it about the time a wave of real tears came. I turned on the faucet and sat down on the toilet to press my face into a towel. The sound of my brother banging on the door a few seconds later wasn't the relief I hoped it would be.

"Sis? You okay?"

"No," I croaked out. "Stomach problems. Must have been that stupid roadside sushi you made me eat."

"Oh fuck. Seriously?" His voice was caring and filled with worry. I hated to lie to him. "You want me to get rid of everyone?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry. Give them take home plates?"

"Will do. No worries. I'll get you some 7-Up and crackers ready."

"Thanks, Bubba." I pressed my face back against the towel and wished I were anyone but me. Ellen and Rhys might think I was truly sick, but Jeremy would know the difference. He had to.

* * *

"Well, don't you look beautiful." Edward offered his arm as I walked up to the front of the museum in a long, black dress and heels. I had my hair up in a bun and more jewelry on than I normally wore.

Thankfully enough, Rhys fell asleep on the couch at ten, giving me time to get ready and leave for my date. It was stupid to try to make two wrongs into a right, but I had committed and didn't want to look like a flake just in case.

"Thank you. You look very handsome tonight." I glanced up at him and smiled. He was incredibly good looking. Not my type, but still very attractive.

"These people are going to think you're my daughter." He chuckled as I slid my hand around his arm. "Let's give them something to talk about, right?”

"Absolutely." I walked in, and the room was filled with people. Dainty little white lights were strung all over the top of the main gallery, and a multitude of servers moved around with trays of champagne and different treats to try. "I love this place. It makes my heart sing."

He chuckled. "It's an intellectual paradise."

"Because there's no right way to interpret a painting, right?" I moved up to a new one that I'd yet to see in the gallery before. "It's really about how the art speaks to you, right?"

"No. Not at all." His tone was a little condescending. "It's about what the artist was trying to portray. It takes time to study and understand the art to really appreciate it. You can't just walk in and take it for what it's worth." He smiled down at me, though his lips were drawn a little tight. "It's immaturity. You'll learn to mature in your appreciation for the real meaning behind the mask. It takes time."

"Right." I nodded and turned back to the painting, feeling all of sixteen all over again. Not good enough. Not smart enough. Not enough.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. I want to mingle with a few people from City Hall."

"Sure." I glanced over my shoulder. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Oh no. They know my wife. I would never in a million years hear the end of it." He gave me an incredulous look like I was a young, simple fool.

"Your wife?" I lifted my eyebrow.

"Of course, Bailey. Did you think a wealthy man like myself wasn't married?" Another slip in his tone to leave me feeling even more stupid than I apparently was.

"You're not wearing a ring." I glanced down and back at him as my stomach sickened.

"Of course not. How would I find a mistress with a ring on?" He smirked and nodded toward the crowd. "Wait here. I'll talk to a few more people, and then we can leave."

I turned back to the painting as horror ran through the center of my chest. The minute Edward was gone and I was alone, I took off for the door. Walking as quickly as I could, I made my way back to my car, tore my heels off of me and drove home feeling so pathetic. Much more than I did when Jeremy pulled away from me.

Why did I try? It seemed like a stupid, immature thing to do.

Especially when it never worked out before.

Never.