When I woke up, I had no idea what time it was. I did know that my head hurt like I had a bad hangover, even though I’d had nothing to drink. I guess I had gone to bed in a high dudgeon. Anger, resentment, spite, those weren’t great emotions to tuck in with for the night. I must have brewed in them as I’d slept, steeping myself in all that yuck, and now I felt like hell.

Sitting up, I got my bearings. And realized Ash wasn’t in bed with me. Was he mad? He might be.

Had I over-reacted last night? Maybe. Damn it.

I padded into the bathroom and splashed a little water on my face. It was still dark out the windows, so it wasn’t really time to wake up yet, but then again I’d gone to bed early. Really early. Maybe they were all still up?

I looked at myself in the mirror. Plain, no makeup, wearing an old T-shirt. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. So here I was, the woman who’d been gallivanting around with the world-famous Ash Black. I didn’t look like anything special.

And last night, when his closest friends and some fans of the band had arrived at the cabin, I’d basically thrown a tantrum. The way I threw tantrums, at least, getting all withdrawn. The angrier I got, the quieter I tended to become.

I’d gotten real quiet last night, and then I’d sulked myself off to bed. When one of the girls had told me I needed to loosen up, I’d practically hissed at her. But maybe she was right?

At the very least, it wasn’t Ash’s fault that they all came up here. He tried to explain it to me, that the band all owned the cabin together. The place belonged to Johnny and Connor as much as it belonged to Ash. And Ash hadn’t seemed any happier than I had about the intrusion. Maybe I should have tried a little harder, at least had a beer or two, instead of popping my head under my shell like a freaking turtle.

Johnny their drummer actually seemed kind of nice. He struck me as a good guy, friendly. He didn’t give me the creeps. Johnny wasn’t the one I had a problem with.

It was Connor. He gave me the willies. There was the aggressive way he’d come on to me, of course, but really it was more than that. There was a wild, unhappy electrical current charging through him, driving him, pushing him past normal limits. I could see it in the way he goaded others around him. He was a manipulator. And he didn’t like me in Ash’s life, I could tell that, too.

And then there was the fact that someone had slipped something into my drink New Year’s Eve. I had no proof that it was Connor. It could have been anyone. That drink might not have even been intended for me. And Ash said it was Connor who’d found me passed out—in a good way. Like Connor had been trying to take care of me.

But that just didn’t ring true. I hadn’t sensed a caretaking bone in Connor’s compact, wiry body. He seemed as selfish as they came.

But, then, I didn’t know him. Not like Ash did. He’d explained that they went way back. I’d always trusted first impressions with people, that gut feeling you got about someone when you first met. But maybe there was a lot more to Connor than I’d seen? And if I really cared for Ash the way I thought I did, I needed to give his closest friend more of a chance.

I thought for a second about putting on some makeup, then decided against it. What did it matter, really? If they were up, they’d all have to be so shitfaced by now it wasn’t as if I needed to impress. There’d be no photographers up here. And Ash had seen me in a state of complete undress for days on end, no styling, no nothing. And he seemed to like me just fine.

Giving myself a smile to boost my self-confidence, I turned out of the room. I’d go find them, and if they were still hanging out maybe I could at least spend a little time with them as well. I could let Ash know I didn’t blame him for them arriving up at the cabin they co-owned. It would feel good to let go of the anger.

In the main room of the cabin, a girl lay fast asleep on the couch. She had a blanket over her and she looked peaceful. And young, younger than me. How old was she? Did her parents know where she was?

OK, I took a deep breath. I needed to try to relax. This was a whole different scene than what I was used to, but that didn’t mean I needed to fly into a panic. She looked over 21. Probably. And she looked fine. I saw no sign of the others, but then I heard some voices in the kitchen.

“Thought I’d lost you, man.” That was Connor, I recognized the light Irish brogue that seemed to come and go. Sometimes he laid it on thick, other times not so much. I wondered if he calculated when it would have the right reaction. But, see, there I was again getting all judgmental and bitchy. That wasn’t how I supposed to be feeling right now, so I tried to tamp it down.

“No, no.” Ash was in the kitchen with him. Ash. I loved hearing his voice.

“Thought you might be about to quit the band!” At Connor’s words, I froze. This suddenly seemed like a conversation that I maybe shouldn’t intrude upon. Maybe he and Ash were talking through something important.

“No,” Ash protested again, and I could almost see him shaking his head, though I stayed outside the room, unseen.

“It seemed like you might be thinking about it,” Connor insisted. He kept his tone light, but I could tell that he was dead serious. “Seemed like you were about to head out to the suburbs with that librarian. Bang out five kids and start working in some sort of a shop.”

That librarian? I stopped breathing. Connor was talking about me.

“Yeah, right.” Ash laughed in derision, like the whole idea of starting a life, a family with me was a preposterous joke. I brought my hand to my mouth, unable to stop a slight gasp, though it didn’t seem as if they heard. I felt like I’d been kicked in the teeth.

“What size do you wear?” Now Connor’s accent sounded more British as he pretended to be someone working in a shop.

“Seven and a quarter,” Ash replied, also in a British accent. Laughter flowed through both of their voices.

“I think we have that,” Connor replied, the helpful shop assistant. Then they both broke into hysterics, cracking up like school boys.

“Aw, man,” Ash said. “Spinal Tap. Always so good.”

“The best.”

Spinal Tap? I had no idea what they were talking about. Maybe they were quoting a movie or something. But I did know what they were doing. They were making fun of me, and the kind of life Ash would live if he were to choose to be with me.

“Good to have you back,” Connor said, full of feeling.

“Good to be back,” Ash agreed. My heart sank straight down to somewhere below the floorboards.

Connor continued in a whisper, but I still heard it. “I think she went to bed at six o’clock last night.”

Ash chuckled. “No, it wasn’t that bad.” But his laugh said otherwise. He thought I was ridiculous, laughably lame.

“Seriously,” Connor insisted. “The sun had yet to set.”

“C’mon now.” More laughing.

“Hey, how about the tits on Kristie?” I knew I should leave. I didn’t want to hear Connor ask about some woman’s breasts, and I definitely didn’t want to hear Ash’s response. But somewhere along the way I’d lost my power to move. I stood, stone still, engulfed with shame and sadness.

“Was that her name?” Ash asked. “I thought it was Stacie?”

“Does it matter?”

More laughter. I winced and wished I could vanish, somehow transport myself right out of that cabin Harry Potter-style. But when I opened my eyes, I was still just a Harry-Potter-loving nerdy librarian standing in the hallway overhearing people make fun of her. Still overhearing things I shouldn’t.

“So you’re heading back to S.F.?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Ash sounded reluctant.

“Leaving at the crack ‘o dawn today? That’s in about an hour.”

Ash groaned, “Shit.”

“Right?”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“Ooh, the librarian’s gonna be pissed.”

“Shut it,” Ash responded, but he was laughing as he said it.

“You’re gonna be in trouble!”

More laughter, more muffled giggling. They were talking about me like I was the school principal. The buzzkill.

“You’re my boy, Blue,” Connor declared. I heard some scuffling and I could picture a sort of chummy wrestle/hug. The kind of thing guys did to express affection without really engaging in a warm embrace.

“Good to have you back,” Connor said.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been—”

“Such a wanker?”

“That’s not exactly what I was going to—”

“A pansy? An asswipe?” Conner had a full supply of insults. Was I the only one who could hear how angry he was at Ash? I could hear such jealousy and venom in his joking tone.

“Thanks for that.” But Ash still sounded like he was laughing.

“OK, how about MIA?”

“Yeah,” Ash agreed. “Sorry I’ve been MIA. This whole Mandy Monroe bullshit has been driving me crazy.”

“Mandy set you up.”

“She did. And now Lola’s been all up my ass.”

“Bitch be crazy.”

“Bitch be crazy,” Ash agreed, throwing his PR rep right under the bus. “She’s had me on this tight schedule.”

“With the ball and chain.”

Ouch. I winced again, standing alone in the hall. But Ash agreed without missing a beat and kept right on complaining. About me. “It’s been rough. We’re here. We’re there. Got to get all the right shots from all the right angles. It’s sucked.”

Oh shit. I now wished more than anything that I hadn’t gotten out of bed. Or at least I wished I’d knocked over a lamp or something in the living room when I’d walked through it. That would have alerted them to my presence and they wouldn’t have started having this conversation. I wished I were anywhere other than standing there hearing Ash describe the last three weeks with me as rough. While I’d been looking at him with stardust in my eyes, apparently he’d been counting the minutes until it was over because it sucked so much.

“It’s almost over now.” Connor comforted him.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

The clink of their glasses, toasting to the end of me, set me in motion. I regained the ability to move and tiptoed over to the bedroom again, closing the door without discovery. I walked back to the bed, climbed back in under the covers and shut my eyes. Maybe I could pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened? Like it had just been a bad dream.

But then I opened my eyes and still I knew, I’d heard it. I’d heard every word. There couldn’t be any misunderstanding here. He actually had been standing in the kitchen having a heart-to-heart with his oldest, closest friend about how he really felt.

So now I knew. Ash was happy that this farce with me was almost over. And it really was almost over. The clock was ticking. According to the original agreement, I was supposed to break up with him after a month. It would be exactly four weeks on Saturday. Today it was Monday. No, sorry, Tuesday very early in the morning. So we really just had a handful of days left. And he felt relieved and grateful that he had so little time left with the ball and chain.

I felt like I’d gotten kicked right in the gut, all the wind knocked out of me. It was almost hard to breathe, but I focused on that, just that, closing my eyes and telling myself everything was going to be OK. This was the worst of it, right now. This was the bottom, scraping down so low you wondered how you’d ever swing back up again.

It hurt so bad. I’d felt so close with Ash, as if we’d stripped everything away there in that cabin, just the two of us. It had felt so real, as if I’d gotten to know the real man behind all the stardom and celebrity. Hadn’t I just told him that last night? But, come to think of it, it was me telling him. He hadn’t said the same to me. Or confirmed he felt the same way.

The past few weeks had been like a fantasy, and I guessed that was just what they were. That was all they were ever supposed to be. I’d signed a contract agreeing to it. I guessed that was why we should have stuck to the no-sex clause. If we hadn’t gotten in so deep together, I probably wouldn’t feel like vomiting right now. If I hadn’t given myself to him so completely, I might not feel like I’d just had my insides scooped out with a melon-baller.

I’d never fallen for anyone the way I had for Ash. I’d tumbled head-over-heels in that mad, raving way you read about. I’d lost my mind and heart. When he touched me, I felt it though my whole body. And it wasn’t real. As many times as I’d tried to remind myself of that fact, it had gotten away from me. I’d tried to keep my guard up, protect myself, remember he was a player and we lived in separate worlds. But I’d failed. I’d fallen for him completely, and now I felt myself falling and falling further and further down with that sickening, lurching feeling low in my stomach.

He wouldn’t be there to catch me. Worse still, he might come in here in the bedroom and act like nothing was wrong. He might climb into bed, pull me into his arms and try to make love to me. Oh God, I still had to share a whole car ride back to S.F. with him. How was I going to do that?

At least I hadn’t told him I loved him. I’d realized it, but I’d kept it locked in my heart. Where it would stay, and hopefully dissipate over time. Because even though I’d heard him talking shit about me, I couldn’t rouse myself into hating him. That would have been easier. It would have been a lot easier to just flip the switch and feel angry over having been tricked and betrayed.

But lying there in the dark, I just felt awful. Tears spilled out of the corners of my eyes, though I tried to stop them, snuffling under the covers. The last thing I wanted was to be there in the dark, pathetic and crying, should Ash walk right through the door. I needed to pull my shit together. I needed to erect a facade, somehow adopt a poker face, and play this out for a little while longer.

I didn’t think I’d make it until Saturday, though. I’d have to end things sooner than that.

I bet Ash would feel grateful to me for it, too. And I bet Lola wouldn’t have any problem with it. I’d already served my purpose. I’d given them tons of juicy photo ops, from corny romantic rom-com shots to X-rated, forbidden moments nearly captured on film. Titillating and suggestive, they’d really gotten their money’s worth from me in Paris.

The world had already seen Ash propose to me. He’d done it up on a freaking stage, televised on a giant screen. How had I gone and let myself believe any of it?

Well. I was an idiot. But the idiot had woken up.

It was a good thing I’d awakened and overheard Ash and Connor. They’d done me a real favor. Had I not heard them, I almost definitely would have made things much worse—for Ash and for me. In a long car ride to S.F., I probably would have started babbling about how I’d never felt that way before and I really, truly loved him. The silence after dropping that bomb would have pretty much killed me.

No, it was better this way. This silence was at least all my own. I didn’t have to add a whole bunch of humiliation into the mix. A broken heart was enough.

Somehow, I had to make it back to S.F. Once we were there, I’d find a way to end it exactly the way our contract demanded. I’d find a horribly public spot to do it. I was sure Lola would help arrange the necessary cameras in place to capture the moment. I’d break up with Ash and fling that outrageously large rock he’d given me right in his handsome face. He’d pretend to be broken-hearted.

Then I’d fly back to New York and begin the process of tending to my own truly broken heart. The thought of it all nearly drove me into sobs, but I told myself to wait on those. There’d be plenty of time to sob into my pillow, night after night without Ash to sob to my heart’s content.

Right now, though, I had to deal. I’d never been a good actress, but I just had to get through the next day or so and then I’d be able to go back to life as it had been before I met Ash. I just wished the thought didn’t rip me to pieces.