My knuckles sting from beating on this door for the last five minutes, but I'll be damned if I'm going anywhere until she opens it. I refuse to glance over my shoulder at those heathens trying to get another shot of Kaylee with their cameras.

“Pax, can you tell us the status of your relationship with Kaylee Burton?” one reporter from a tabloid television show hollers from behind me.

“Can you confirm if she was fired from her job at Kensington Palisades as it's been reported?” another yells.

“Open the fucking door, Kaylee,” I mumble to myself as I rap on the door again, this time with more force…more desperation. I lean forward, my head hanging in defeat as another reporter hollers an inaudible question from behind me.

A gush of cool air assaults me as the front door flies open and, when I lift my head, my heart stops as Kaylee stands stunned in the open doorway.

“Kay,” I say quietly, hoping she'll let me in. The reporters behind us go nuts, yelling questions, while cameras click wildly, trying to get a glimpse at the both of us.

“Can I come in?”

She stares at me, tears hanging heavy in those beautiful eyes of hers. She nods and steps aside, and I carefully push her out of the way before shutting the door, leaving the world outside.

“Why are you here?” she asks, her voice breaking as she swipes at the tears that finally began to fall. I want to pull her into me and hold her, smell her. Just feel her. I need to feel her.

“Why did you leave the other morning?” I take a careful step toward her, giving her space, but closing a bit of the distance between us.

“Because I didn't want this.” She flings her arm toward the door and the chaos just outside it. “Pax, I had a great time…I didn't want to leave, but you and I—” Her voice breaks, and she looks down to her feet.

“You and I what, Kaylee?”

“We're from two different worlds. I'm a kindergarten teacher…well, was a kindergarten teacher. You're a Hollywood hunk—”

I scoff at that remark.

“What? You are,” she continues. “We got caught up in a wild night and the last thing I wanted was for it to affect your career…or mine.”

She pushes past me, and I hate the feeling of her fleeing from me. She tosses herself down on her couch and pulls a pillow tightly into her lap. “What have we done?” she says quietly. “What have I done?” she corrects herself, placing the blame on herself.

I'll be damned if I'm going to let her do that, take the blame.

I take a deep breath and walk across her living room toward her. She looks up at me, those beautiful eyes marred in red, her cheeks splotchy from crying.

“Stand up,” I order her and hold out my hand for her to take. She hesitates, dropping her eyes to my waiting hand. “Come on, Kaylee,” I encourage her. She swallows hard and tosses the pillow from her lap onto the couch next to her.

With a shaky hand, she reaches for mine, her soft fingers sliding into the palm of my hand. I gently tug her closer to me when she stands up, finally getting her where she belongs—next to me. I brush my thumb across her damp cheek, wiping away any remaining tears.

“You didn't do anything wrong. I didn't do anything wrong. What we did, we did together,” I start. I brush a stray piece of hair off her forehead. “What we did wasn't wrong.” I pull her closer, snaking my arm around her waist. “What we did I enjoyed…and I want to do it again.”

I feel her tense at my admission, and my stomach flips. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm not an 'admit your feelings' kind of guy, and I'm pretty sure I just scared the shit out of her.

“Or, we can—”

“I'm scared,” Kaylee cuts me off.

“Of what?”

“Of getting hurt. Of them.” She points toward her door and the barbarians outside, trying to get the next big headline.

“Fuck them,” I tell her, anger bubbling beneath the surface. I fucking hate the paparazzi, but I know how to deal with them. She doesn't. “And I can't promise you that you won't get hurt, but I can promise that I'll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“But—”

“Come with me, Kaylee.” It's not really a question, or a demand…but it's me laying it all out there. My eyes beg her to come with me. I need her with me. I need her to give this, us, a chance. She pulls her lips between her teeth and contemplates my question.

“I'm leaving for London tonight. I have press junkets and a foreign film premiere, and I want you there with me. I want you at my side for all of this.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Confusion moves across her brow. “Why, Pax?”

“Because I like you, Kaylee. Because I like us together. Because—I don't know, something just clicks with us. It’s easy, and natural, and I like it. I like you.” I shrug a shoulder, feeling like a little bitch for putting it all out there. But isn't that what women want? Honesty?

I can see her fighting the small smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “I mean, what do you have lose, Kay?”

And look at me with my nickname for her already. If Philip was here, he'd take my man card and light in on fire.

“Everything.” She sighs and retreats, pulling herself away from me.

“Seems like you already have.” I realize what a dick I sound like when those words fall from my lips. “Let’s see what you can find. There's a whole world out there—let me show it to you.”

“This is crazy,” she whispers and looks around her condo. “I can't just leave with you. I mean, I have to find a job. I need to figure out my life.”

“There's no better time to take a little break, Kaylee. You have no responsibilities right now. There's nothing keeping you here. Come with me. Let the press settle down a bit here before you start looking for a new job. Plus, who's going to hire a teacher in the middle of the school year?”

“I hope someone will!” she shrieks. “I need money. I can't just gallivant around the world with you, Pax. I can't afford Europe.”

“You're not paying for it, it's included in the film’s press budget. It's two weeks, Kaylee. Just come with me. Give me two weeks.”

She presses her fingers to her temples and rubs them in small circles.

“I promise you, it'll be worth it.” I'm doing a lousy job of trying to convince her. I'm practically begging her. I'm about ready to revoke my own man card, shit.

She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “Worth it for who?” she says, and I inwardly cringe at her remark.

“For both of us. Let's get to know each other better.”

“Two weeks?” she asks and drops her hands to her side. I can see her brain ticking away inside her beautiful head.

“Just two weeks. Take this time to map out your next move.” I take a few steps closer to her. “Take this time to get to know me better.” I take a few more steps.

“What if I don't like you?” She smirks and props her hands on her hips.

“Then I'll send you home on a plane earlier.” I loop my arms through the opening of hers and pull her to my chest. “But I promise, you're not going to want to go home early.” I pull her into a hug.

“You're really cocky, aren't you?” she says against my chest.

“I like to call it confident. I'm really confident.” I laugh at her.

“Call it what you want.” She exhales in resignation, and I know I have her.

“How long do I have to pack?” She looks up at me.

I yank my phone from my pocket to check the time. “You have forty minutes.”

She pulls herself from my embrace and begins frantically running up the stairs of her condo. “Make yourself comfortable,” she hollers as she disappears up the stairs. I smile. If I could pat myself on the back, I would. Kaylee is coming to Europe with me.

My phone vibrates in my hand, and my euphoria is short lived when Kendall's name flashes across my screen.

“Kendall,” I answer quietly and walk to the kitchen, as far away from the stairs as possible in hopes that Kaylee doesn't hear Kendall screaming through the phone.

“What in the ever-loving hell are you doing at that woman's house? Do you know it's on CNN right now? You are on goddamn CNN right now.”

I sigh loudly into the phone. “I needed to make things right.”

“That is not your goddamn job, that's mine,” she screams at me. “Your job is to get your ass on that airplane in two-hours, your butt in the seat, and not talk to anyone. Do not talk to the press. Do not talk to your mother. Do not talk to ANYONE! Leave that goddamn house and that woman, get in your car, and get to the motherfucking airport. Do you understand me?”

“Ten-four.” I end the call and smile to myself. That was one of Kendall's more epic meltdowns. I cannot wait to see what she says when she sees Kaylee's butt in the seat next to mine. I actually laugh out loud and brace myself all at the same time.