Paris lay in bed, unable to sleep.

A million things ran through her head. Checklists of things she had to get done for the All-Stars Event. The checklist of the bag she’d just packed for the vacation Ty would be taking with Shane and his new wife. Shane was supposed to stop by last night and get the bag so she didn’t have to send it to school with Ty today. It wasn’t like him to forget little details.

She looked at the clock on her bedside. Four in the morning! Argh. She turned on her side and willed herself to go to sleep.

It felt like only seconds later when her phone buzzed. In a haze, she looked at the clock. Five in the morning. She grabbed her phone to see a text from Shane letting her know that he was here for the bag. Annoyed, she got out of bed and pulled on a robe, then opened the door quietly, taking care not to wake Ty.

Shane stood there, his arms crossed, his eyes angry. Clearly, he’d seen the coverage about Logan, too. “Hey,” he said, stilted.

Paperwork on the divorce had been finalized almost a year ago, but things hadn’t gotten to the amicable place several of her friends promised they would get to. He’d recently married his secretary at the insurance office, Shari Bolton, who had been head cheerleader in high school and still had that “let’s put up posters and have fun” air about her. She also happened to be the one that Shane had cheated on her with.

She thought of the words her father always said to her: “I don’t care what happens between two adults; when you have children, you have to get along.”

Mimicking his irritated pose, she crossed her arms. “You can come in and get the bag.” She wasn’t going to make his life easy.

His nostrils flared, and he shot her the accusing look he’d given her during their marriage when it came to anything about Logan Slade. “What are you going to do when the reporters get here?” he asked in an angry whisper. “He said your name, ya know?”

She threw up her hands. “What do you want me to do, Shane?” She pointed to the already packed bag. “There’s Ty’s bag. It’s ready for you and your wife and ten days of fun.” Her voice was clipped and sarcastic, revealing her jealousy—not really over the new wife thing, but definitely over the new family thing. He’d insisted on taking Ty away for the big All-Stars weekend. “I wish you would have let Ty meet some people.”

Shane narrowed his eyes. “Logan?”

It wasn’t fun for him to have Logan come back to town and paparazzi it up. Part of her wanted to remind Shane, Remember—you’re the jerk who cheated! But she didn’t, because there was too much history between Shane and Logan and herself.

“No,” she said steadily. “Rocket Breeland will be here, and Ty loves watching him.” She started listing off the awesome football players who would be here this weekend. “Roman Young, Sam Dumont, Legend James, Cameron Cruise, Hyde Metcalf, Jace Harding, and don’t even get me started on the other famous people—Sterling Pennington, the movie star—”

“Ty’s met him. Remember that swanky event at Montana’s house you dragged us to?” He rolled his eyes. “He’s met Sterling, Hunter James, Cooper Harrison, all the bigwigs around here and some other bigwigs from Park City, Utah, remember? And Ty is five. He is fine.”

She knew this was about more than just her and Logan. After all, Shane had been his best friend while growing up, too. They’d gone to college together on scholarship. Granted, Shane had been cut after two years and he’d come home, but he and Logan had a long history.

Shane relented. “Do you think he’s okay?”

She blinked. No matter what—all the history, all the past crap—she knew both of them wanted Logan to be okay. Head injuries were a serious thing, with more and more coverage about concussions and what that meant for football players as they aged.

Taking a step back, she pushed the door open further. “I’ll make us some coffee and we can talk.”

She didn’t wait for Shane to let himself in. He knew his way around; after all, the house used to be both of theirs. She heard the front door close, and then Shane approached the dining room table while taking off his suit coat, looking glum and resigned. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his two top buttons.

After he’d been cut from UC Berkeley, he’d finished his business degree, then come back to Jackson and joined his father’s insurance company. He had done well, especially with all the expansion in Jackson the past five years. She stood next to the stove and watched him, finding it funny that their lives were still tied to Logan Slade.

Shane walked over to the baby grand piano and gently rested a hand on it; the touch bothered her, though she wasn’t sure why. “I miss hearing you play,” he said softly. “I always loved that about the mornings or the evenings or pretty much every time you were home—the house was filled with music.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. His admission felt intimate.

The moment flickered out like a candle. He stalked to the table and quickly sat, swinging angry eyes back to her. “But I guess those days are over.”

Biting her tongue, she held her own anger at bay. “So you’re picking Ty up after school, right?” They’d been over the plans, but she didn’t know what else to say. She filled the mugs and took them to the table, putting one in front of him.

“You’ve had the plans for a month. Yes, I’ll pick up Ty after school. We’ll fly out early from Jackson Saturday morning and take a direct flight into LA. And you’ll have time to gear up for All-Stars.” He smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “What will you do if Logan doesn’t show up for the event to do his wolf impression? What will the crowds do without him?”

“Shut up, Shane.” She wasn’t going to get into it with him.

“Whatever.” Shane took a sip. “Did you tell him at the funeral? Did you?”

Nails on a chalkboard, that was all she felt in his company these days. “Go to hell.”

Letting out a derisive laugh, his eyes flashed to her. “Oh, didn’t you know? Hell was when I was married to you.”

She clamped down on her rage. It wouldn’t do to lose control. She’d learned that over the past couple of years with her mother dying and the divorce. The emotional hangover wasn’t worth it. “Okay. I guess you can get the bag and we’ll see you in ten days.” She allowed herself a witchy smile.

Shane stood, but didn’t move. “Do you still love him?”

“Don’t do this. He’s in a coma.”

“Oh, he’s fine now,” Shane said. His voice had taken on that weird tone it got when he didn’t want to be emotional. “He’s back in his mansion with Kim, living his famous life. I listened to the news on the way over.”

Her heart pounded. “Well, I wouldn’t have let you in if you would have told me that sooner.”

Shane only shrugged. They both knew he’d played the “our friend might die so let’s feel bad together” card. All of them had been best friends, grown up together, before she and Logan had fallen in love.

Honestly, when she’d come back to Jackson, Shane had asked her out and she’d refused. After he persisted, though, it felt like the most natural thing in the world that they would end up together.

“You’ve never stopped loving him,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

She’d always told Shane that it’d been his own male ego that wouldn’t let the past go. “I can’t do this.” She left the coffee on the table and led him back to the front door.

He picked up Ty’s bag, but didn’t leave right away. His eyes glittered with emotion. “If you just would have quit doing All-Stars … if you could have said no to him two years ago, things would be different.”

She trembled. “You had an affair, Shane. You had an affair with your secretary; you can’t really get more cliché then that. That had nothing to do with All-Stars.”

“Bull,” Shane muttered.

“I plan this event for all of them, not just Logan.”

“Logan hired your company.”

“I don’t even know why we’re having this discussion anymore.”

A loud knock interrupted them. Shane shot her a glance, and then flung the door open.

A camera flashed, and someone pushed a microphone forward. “Is Paris Ford here? Could we get a comment to put on the record?”

“Get out of here!” Shane glowered at them.

Among the snapping pictures, another reporter asked, “Do you think he’s coming here, Ms. Ford?”

Paris had changed her name back to Ford, and it always embarrassed her when someone said it when Shane was around, because it’d bothered him that she’d changed it back.

“What do you mean, coming here?” Shane’s voice had gone down an octave.

The woman reporter flashed a smile and waved at her cameraman to focus on Paris. “Oh, you didn’t know? Kim vlogged a couple of hours ago that when she woke up, he had left his LA home and didn’t take his phone.” She held out a microphone. “Where do you think he’s going?”

Paris stumbled back, and felt Shane reach out to steady her. Even with the anger in his eyes, all she could think about was how Logan had kissed her when he’d come to her mother’s funeral two years ago.