Nash was in New York City with Vivienne. They were announcing their engagement this morning on TV, and I was doing my best to be away from it. Luckily, I didn’t have one in my office so I could zone out on paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t avoid mentions of Nash since he was my one and only client. I was organizing more meetings and arrangements. I needed to go to California for dress shopping with Vivienne. I opened the calendar that was forwarded to me. Next week looked like the best time, so I called my assistant to look into flights. I did nothing but busy work. I was restless, wishing I could watch the announcement, but knowing my heart wouldn’t survive.

My eyes flickered to the clock constantly, trying to figure out when it’d all be over. It felt final, them telling the world about their love and their upcoming wedding. All the flirtations of more with Nash would have to absolutely end. Maybe I needed to tell my boss to move them to another planner. I’d probably lose my job, but I’d get to keep my sanity and the little shreds of my heart that were left.

The minutes ticked by, seeming to take years to pass. The announcement would have been over by now, and my heart sank. It was official. Vivienne was going to marry Nash, and there was absolutely no future for the two of us. I tried my best to work, but I found myself staring out the window. In the back of my mind, I felt like my story with Nash wasn’t over. I’d hoped there was another chapter, one last act where we would rush together, and everything would work itself out. I hated admitting it because it made me feel weak, but it was there. I’d allowed him to break down all my defenses and he’d crushed me again. Our story was never meant to have anything but a tragic ending.

After a day of useless tasks, I gave up and walked out of my office. Pam looked up from her computer screen. “I’m heading out for the day. I have those dinner plans tonight.”  

“Sure, have a good time.”

“Cover for me if Nadine needs something. Tell her I’m working on something for the James wedding.”

“You got it.” She smiled.

Outside, the humid summer air pressed down on me, making my body feel even heavier. The end was near; I could feel it brewing. What I wasn’t sure of was what exactly was ending—maybe my sanity, my career, but it was coming. My stomach was uneasy, and my nerves were frayed.

“Bianca,” a voice said, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turned, brows furrowed. I recognized the voice, but the person it belonged to should have been in New York, not here. When my eyes connected with his, my lungs seized. He was in his usual jeans and a button up dress shirt. The top few buttons were undone like he couldn’t fully commit to the professional look. His legs ate the distance between us with a speed that surprised me. Without another word, he wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me in his scent of leather and his warm strength. “I’ve been out here fifteen minutes, wondering what I’d say to you, but then you were here.”

My arms came up around his back, holding him to me. I inhaled deeply, sunk into his body. For the first time in so long, I felt like I belonged somewhere. Here, with him. There was nowhere else for me, no one else for me. My rib cage was the only thing stopping my heart from breaking free.

Then, realization crashed down on me, painful and sharp. I gasped, stepping back. I smoothed my hair and looked both ways down the sidewalk, hoping no one had seen us. “Why are you here, Mr. James? You should be on TV right now.”

He crowded me, not allowing me distance. “I ended it. I called off the engagement, ended the relationship with Viv. She’s doing the interview about her movie.”

My stomach dipped and swirled as I absorbed his words. The canyon between us shrunk a bit. For a split second, I thought I could see a way to bridge the distance, but then I remembered everything else. The words he’d said all those years ago, the fact that he’d found someone else and moved on without me. Not to mention Ethan. We weren’t anything serious, definitely not exclusive, but he was still there. I’d told Nash he was my boyfriend to reinforce the distance between us. I’d hoped if I had someone else he’d stop cornering me. Obviously, I’d thought wrong.

I stared, not having a clue what to say to him. His hands came up, cradling my face. I latched onto his shirt sleeves, not sure if I should shove him away or pull him closer. “Say something, Bee.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you want me back, that you need me as desperately as I need you.” His jaw pulsed, and he swallowed. “Say you love me,” he said, low and gruff.

“I…” I couldn’t figure out what to say because all of that was true. I did love him, I did need and want him. I missed him, even when he was right here because he wasn’t mine. Was there a way for us to move beyond the past?

“Please, Bee,” he begged, coming closer, his whole body pressed against mine. His face dipped closer to mine, and it’d be so easy—almost too easy—to close the distance and taste him.

I had one life and this one love. I knew down to my marrow that Nathan James was it for me. If I didn’t try now, when would I? I couldn’t walk away forever. At some point, I had to stop and just…try. Isn’t that where we’d started all those years ago? A simple decision to try.

Now, it was my turn to try.

I pushed up slightly, touching my lips against his. It was a meeting in the middle, a soft, gentle caress. His hands fisted in my hair and he took the kiss deeper, invading me with his tongue and lips. The last eight years poured between us, all the want, the need, loneliness, sadness, and the denial. I moved my hands to his back, feeling the muscles of his back bunching and flexing with his barely controlled desire.

I sank into Nash, tasting him and feeling him. Every sense was drunk on him. His leather and wood smell, the pressure of his hands in my hair, the feel of his unshaved chin brushing against my soft skin, the taste of mint and something slightly sweet on his tongue, his groan filling my ears. My eyes were squeezed tight, but I knew I’d see my own desperation for him echoed back in his green irises.

The kiss turned from frenzy to slower, more sensual. In the middle of a downtown sidewalk, Nash made love to my mouth, completely owning me. He branded himself permanently on me. I’d forgotten how good it was to kiss him. He was demanding, and I rose to every challenge.

Breaking the kiss, he pulled my head against his chest, holding my face to his collarbone. His heart thumped against my cheek, and I loved knowing he was as affected as I was. “Does this mean you want to do this?” he rasped.

“It means I’m willing to try, but we should talk. Really talk. No walking away. I don’t want there to be anything left unsaid between us.”

“Tonight. Have dinner with me. We won’t leave until everything is out in the open.”

I closed my eyes, cursing the fact that I already had plans. “I’m supposed to go to my parents’ house tonight. I’ve had to cancel the last few dinners. If I cancel again, they’ll kill me.”

The vibration of his chuckle tickled my cheek. “Yeah, they will.” He kissed the top of my head, his fingers stroking my back. “I’ll come too. I mean, if you want me to.”

My lips curved upward, loving the idea. “I want you to.”

“I’ve spent too long away from you. I want to monopolize all of your time.”

“That’s fine. I’m sure they’ll love seeing you.”

“Then afterward, we can go back to my hotel room and talk.”

I backed up slightly, looking at him. “If we go to your hotel room, do you really think we’ll talk?”

“Yes, because I want to do this right. This is it for me, Bee.” His words sent tingles down my spine. “But, I mean, if we end up doing more than talking, I wouldn’t object.”

I laughed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

“Text me your address. I’ll pick you up.”

I swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He smiled, his dimple showing. “There’s nothing more I want to do in the entire world.”

My heart puddled in my chest. This was real. No more holding back, no more walls between us, no more people. I’d call Ethan and tell him it was over. I was going all in with Nash. “I’ll give you the details.”

He pressed a kiss to my lips. “I can’t wait.”

My mom bustled around the kitchen, stirring pots, checking the meat loaf in the oven, chatting incessantly to Nash. She wanted to know everything that had happened in his life since she’d last seen him.

“How are your parents? Hazel?” my mom asked as she pulled the meat loaf from the oven. My dad handed Nash a beer.

“Great. They love California. Hazel graduated college out there and is a teacher now. My parents both found work out there, and they’re still doing their thing.” Nash smiled. Every few seconds, his eyes would find mine like he was sure I’d disappear if he didn’t keep checking on me. I smiled back at him, then grabbed his hand under the kitchen table, twining our fingers together. His thumb brushed over my knuckles.

It’d only been a few hours, most of which I’d spent obsessing over what to wear to this dinner, but I felt my wounds healing, stitching together and righting themselves. It was enough for me to hope that I’d be whole again—maybe someday soon.

“That’s so great to hear,” my mom said. “Dinner’s ready.”

Over dinner, the chatter continued, though I couldn’t focus on anything but Nash’s constant touch. If he wasn’t holding my hand, his was on my leg, his fingers stroking lightly. Every movement sent an electric jolt of arousal between my legs and low in my belly. I knew we needed to talk, but the thought of being able to touch him, to kiss him, was overwhelming.

When I’d gotten home, I’d called Ethan right away and broke things off with him. He was disappointed, but he understood. I wondered if he knew I wasn’t fully in it with him, that my attention and affection was somewhere else. He was gracious—not that I’d expect anything else from him—and wished me luck. It would have been easy to stay with Ethan and maybe someday I could have learned to love him, but it wouldn’t have come close to the kaleidoscope of feelings one glance from Nash caused in me.

“Your cooking is always so good,” Nash said, serving himself more food. It was his third helping.

My mom beamed proudly, patting Nash’s arm. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying everything.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home cooked meal.” Nash took a big bite of mashed potatoes. I fought a smile. I saw him as the teenaged boy who inhaled my mom’s cooking. It didn’t matter if he’d just had half a pizza, he always seemed to have room for whatever my mom had whipped up.

“That’s unacceptable,” my mom scolded. “You can’t exist on all that fast food and restaurant garbage.” She leveled me with her eyes. “You need to take care of him, cook him some meals. The both of you.” She shook her head, clearly disappointed. “Bianca, I swear, lives on wine.”

Nash chuckled, though his mouth was still full. “I travel a lot. It’s hard to eat at home when you’re never there,” he added when he’d swallowed.

My mom pressed her lips together, clearly not pleased. “Don’t work so hard. You’re young. You should be enjoying life.”

Nash’s hand came back to my knee, sliding higher on my thigh, causing me to gasp and my cheeks to flush. “That’s what I’m going to do now. I’m taking some time off to relax and regroup. I need to refocus my priorities.”

“That’s a good boy,” my mom said, smoothing her hand over his arm. “I always knew you’d turn out to be a good boy.”

“Mom, you’re being ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes.

“Let your mother go, Bianca. It’s been a long time since you’ve brought a boy home. She’s allowed to fuss.” My dad peered at me over the top of his glasses.

Nash smirked. “Oh really? It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Yeah. In fact, you were the last guy she ever brought home,” my dad supplied.

“We were beginning to think she’d given up on men after you left,” my mom said, her voice full of sympathy.

Nash’s fingers tightened on my thigh, digging in, though not painfully. I wasn’t sure if that was in happiness or some other emotion. “Mom, Dad. Stop.”

“Oh, look at us,” my mom laughed. “Always embarrassing her.”

I groaned and dropped my face into my palm. After more interrogation from my mom, Nash and I got ready to leave. My mom hugged Nash tightly and told him not to be a stranger. My dad even hugged him, thumping him on the back.

Back in the car, Nash grabbed my hand and kissed it. “I guess I’m really it for you, aren’t I?”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “It wasn’t that I didn’t date; there just wasn’t anyone worthy of bringing home.”

“Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that so you forget how gone you are for me.” He grinned. “Back to my hotel to talk?”

“Let’s go.” The heat low in my belly caused my muscles to tighten, and I squeezed my thighs together. I wasn’t really interested in talking, not after the way he’d stroked my skin all evening. He seemed set on it, though. It was probably for the best that we clear the air. Even if I ached for his touch.