God, she’s beautiful. I can’t believe she’s here, that we’re breathing the same air, that our gazes are locked and I can smell her scent on the breeze, fresh and sweet. I’m so close I can touch her and I flex my fingers, eager to get my hands on her.

She parts her perfect pink lips, her eyes wide, and she finally says my name.

Immediately followed with, “You need to get out of here.”

That was the last thing I expected to hear. Isn’t she the one who asked me to meet her?

Frowning, I take a step toward her. She has nowhere to go. She’s pressed against the brick wall of the coffeehouse and watching me with eyes full of wariness mixed with . . . is that excitement?

The potential excitement is what urges me on. Makes me think I have a chance. I need this chance. Need her to listen to me, to talk to me.

To go home with me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her, my voice low and firm. She’s not pushing me away, not when I finally got this chance. “We need to talk.”

“Did you not see who was out in front of the coffee shop harassing me just a few minutes ago?” When I say nothing, she blows out an exasperated breath. “Lisa Swanson!”

“What?” I rub my hand along my jaw. The jaw I still haven’t shaved. I probably look like a damn caveman, but I don’t care. “Is that why you ran away?”

I saw her shake her head, mouth something at me, and then she turned tail and ran. I didn’t get it. Thought she might have panicked and considered leaving me for good. I almost collapsed with relief when I found her hiding out in the alley.

“Yes.” The look she sends me has duh written all over it. She glances toward the opening of the alley, the people passing by on the sidewalk, before she returns her gaze to mine. “You need to go.”

Oh, hell no. Now that I’m actually in her presence again, no way am I leaving. “I’m not going.” Reaching out, I touch her, drift my fingers down her arm. She visibly shivers, shifting away from me, and I let my hand drop. “Katie . . .”

“Stop.” Her voice is shaky and she keeps her gaze downcast for too many long seconds. Like she can’t stand to look at me. God, I hope that’s not true. “You need to get out of here, Ethan. This was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Is she serious? Blood roars in my ears, drowning out all background noise. It’s as if everything fades—the people just beyond the alley, the street, all of it. My world is only the here and now, me and Katie and nothing else.

“I should’ve never asked you to meet me.” She shakes her head, muttering the words more to herself than me. Her gaze meets mine, completely unreadable. “What if—what if she catches you? Us?”

“So what if she does? I don’t care.” I don’t. Let Lisa Swanson discover us together. Let her fucking film it for the entire world to see. I really don’t give a shit. I can’t just walk away from Katie. Not now.

Not ever again.

She lifts her head, her gaze blazing. “Maybe I care,” she retorts. “Think about what this will do to us.”

“What could it do? Force us to admit that yes, we’re in a relationship now? What’s wrong with that?”

“This so-called relationship only happened because you sought me out and then lied to me!” Her voice is shrill, her eyes wild, and she visibly shakes. She’s angry.

At me.

“I never meant—” I clamp my lips shut when I see her hostile expression. She looks ready to pounce. Christ, maybe she’s right. Maybe we shouldn’t have met today. Our hurt feelings are still too close to the surface, too raw and painful.

“Do you really think meeting me today was a mistake?” I need to know her answer, though I might not like it.

Katie watches me, pressing her lips together. I wait for her response, air lodged in my throat, my heart tripping over itself in my chest. I feel like it’s all come down to this. “This won’t work,” she whispers.

“What won’t?”

“Us. The two of us . . . together. We need to accept it.” Her face almost crumples but she somehow keeps it together, all while she slaughters my heart with her words. “We shouldn’t be seen together in public. If anyone recognizes us, it will become this—thing, and soon the media will be talking. About us and our sick relationship. And I don’t want that. I don’t think you do, either.”

My spine stiffens involuntarily and I slowly back away from her, holding my hands up in front of me in pure defensive mode. As if my position can ward off the blow only her words can deliver.

I thought my father knew how to pack a punch, saying just the right thing to make me internally bleed. A few choice words from Katie Watts and I feel like I’m near fucking death.

“You want me gone? I’m gone,” I tell her, but I don’t budge. I’m hoping she’ll stop me. Despite the pain she’s causing, I don’t want to walk away from her. Even though it feels like my heart is about to crack into a million tiny pieces. I swear she already broke my heart when she first found out who I really was and ran, exiting my life like she was never in it.

Now she doesn’t want to be seen with me in public. Doesn’t want Lisa to know. The rational side of my brain understands why she might feel that way. But the irrational side, the emotional side, is screaming in agony over her rejection, demanding that I hurt her back.

My vengeful side makes me think of my father.

Fuck. I rub a hand across my chest to ease the radiating ache, but it doesn’t help. The way Katie watches me isn’t helping, either.

“It’s for the best,” she whispers. “The minute she spots us, she’ll tell . . . everyone. And then we’re in trouble. They’ll twist our relationship into this weird, sick thing, and I can’t. I can’t bear it, Ethan. I’ve already suffered through too much and so have you. This—we’re not worth it.”

My mouth drops open. We’re not worth it? She’s the only person in my life who’s worth anything.

“I’m—I’m sorry.” The choked words leave her and I can’t say anything in return.

She turns and leaves, her steps hurried, her flat black shoes slapping against the pavement as she scurries away. I watch her go, don’t stop her, don’t say her name. I don’t do a damn thing, as if I’m paralyzed, and I wonder for one crazy moment if I might be.

But I’m not. I’m just struck numb by her words, by her worry. She’s right. I know she’s right. The media will turn our relationship into a fucking train wreck, and with good reason. We are a train wreck. We shouldn’t have happened, but we did. No one else knows what it’s like to be me. No one understands what we went through together except her and me. But she has walked away from me yet again. Practically ran, and I did nothing about it.

Breathing deep, I tell myself to stay strong. Either this will work or it won’t—but I want it to. I’m desperate to keep that connection between us.

Yet I need to understand and respect her feelings. Forgive her for walking away from me so easily. It’s damn hard. That tiny, vulnerable part buried deep within me, that little boy who never felt wanted, the one who spent his entire life moving through it essentially alone . . .

He is devastated.