You’d think I’d be used to these types of functions after nearly eight months of dating Bill. As a member of Cardinal’s Cay Chamber of Commerce, attending charity events like these are fairly common. Tonight’s banquet is in honor of basketball Coach Frankie James, who’s retiring from Breckland University after twenty-three years of coaching.

Bill explained before the party that Coach Frankie is a national icon, a basketball coach who has earned five consecutive NCAA titles, and is well respected by not only his fellow coaches, but also professional players and fans alike. He is a big deal in our local area.

I listened to Bill as if this was new information, but the truth is I know quite a bit about Coach Frankie James. He’s one of Jesse’s heroes, and Jesse used to talk about him quite often. In fact, I probably know more Coach Frankie trivia than all the guests at the banquet combined. For example, things like, Frankie James is a rather superstitious man and is retiring after twenty-three years specifically, because twenty-three is Michael Jordan’s number.

“Oh, my God. Did you see her shoes?” I stare at the petite brunette with the amazing four-inch Louboutins who passes us in the reception line. “I’d die for those shoes.”

Bill wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer, his lips inches from my ear. “I’d die to see you in them.” He kisses the shell of my ear. “And nothing else.”

I smile, a slow blush tingeing my cheeks red. My chemistry with Bill still isn’t off the charts—but let’s face it, I resigned myself to never having that type of attraction again. The heat between us isn’t a raging inferno, but rather a steady, lukewarm heat. It’s nice. Comfortable. Even. And good enough.

Bill takes a step back and looks toward our table in the next room. “We should take our seats. Dinner is about to start.”

“Sure.” I place my hand on his arm. “I just need to use the restroom quick.”

He places his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the bathrooms at the end of the lobby. “I’ll grab us another drink.”

“O—” The word is meant to be okay, an agreement to his simple suggestion, but instead it turns into “Oh”…a long “oh.” An oh-my-fucking-God “oh.”

My body is paralyzed, rooted to the spot, but my eyes race back and forth, up and down, side to side, not quite believing what they’re seeing.

It can’t be.

I’m hallucinating. Dreaming. Experiencing crazy déjà vu. Because it looks like the man with the dark charcoal suit is…

“Riley?” Bill and Jesse say at exactly the same time, but I only hear his voice. Jesse. My Jesse.

It’s been thirteen months, but in this moment, it feels like it’s only been thirteen seconds.

He looks incredible. The dark suit molds to his athletic frame, the powder blue tie enhances the azure tone of his eyes. His hair is cut short, shorter than he used to wear it, and my fingers itch to rub against the scratchy surface.

But I can’t focus on any of those things right now, because tonight all I see is the man who broke my heart.

Even though I’ve made no attempt to speak or move, Jesse approaches. “Riley.” He reaches for me, his arms extended as though he’s going to hug me, but it’s awkward because Bill still has his arm wrapped around my waist.

I move my mouth but no sound comes out.

Bill releases his hold, extends his hand. “Bill Lewg.”

Jesse takes his hand, and I watch, mesmerized, as those long fingers wrap around Bill’s. This can’t be happening. “Jesse Collins.”

“Good to meet you.” Bill pumps his hand.

Jesse nods his head, but says nothing, just continues to stare at me. If I’m being fair, I’m staring, too, my mouth having forgotten how to work. I twist my palms together like crazy.

Finally, Bill breaks the silence. “So, how do you know Riley?”

Jesse’s eyes narrow on mine and there’s a flash of hurt before he speaks. “I’m an old friend.”

What does he expect? I don’t go around advertising how he ripped my heart out. I finally find my voice. “Jesse and I grew up together.”

“Oh, always nice meeting a friend of Riley’s. I haven’t gotten a chance to meet much of her family.”

Jesse lifts a brow in question: Are you two together?

It’s new. It’s…complicated, I answer with my eyes.

“We’re at table number fifty-four. Stop over to chat after dinner, before the speeches,” Bill continues, oblivious to our silent conversation.

“Thank you, but—”

“There you are.” The brunette, the same one with the amazing heels, bands her arm around Jesse. “Thought I lost you there for a second.”

Now it’s my turn to question: Who is she?

But Jesse doesn’t answer, at least not in the way I want him to. “This is Abigail Houghton.” He gestures from the brunette to Bill and me. “This is Riley Jones and…sorry.” He glances at Bill. “I’m terrible with names.”

“Bill Lewg.” Bill extends his hand again. “Good to meet you.”

“Nice meeting you,” she agrees, voice saccharine sweet. I want to hate her, but she’s stunning, has the cutest dimples, and we’ve already established how I feel about her shoes. Plus, she seems genuinely nice.

Still, I can’t bring myself to acknowledge her. I don’t know how to greet Jesse’s new girlfriend. I don’t know how to make small talk with the girl who has replaced me. I don’t know how to smile and pretend that I’m not dying inside.

Silence fills the air as the harpist and cellist finish the final notes from their closing piece of music, and the waiters begin to serve the first course. “Looks like dinner’s starting.” Bill places his hand on my elbow.

Abigail nods. “I’m going to sit down.” She turns with wide eyes to Jesse. “You coming?”

He nods. “I’ll be right there.”

She turns to us before walking away. “It was nice meeting you both.”

“Same here,” Bill says, as I drop my gaze.

“Ry?” Jesse extends his arm but drops it when I pull back. I cannot let him touch me. If he does, I will fall apart.

“Yeah?” My voice shakes, and I pray that neither he nor Bill notices.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Umm.” I hesitate and glance at Bill. “We really should take our seats.”

Bill, ever the gentleman, concedes. “It’s fine, sweetie.” I wince at his words. “Stay and chat with your friend.”

Fuck. Before I can speak, Jesse addresses Bill. “We’ll only be a minute.” Then to me, “It’s really good to see you, Ry.”

I nod my head but keep my eyes down.

“You look great.”

I take a deep breath and meet his eyes. All my pent-up emotions: the anger, the sadness, the heartbreak, pour into one question. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here—”

But I cut him off. “I thought you were living in North Carolina with your dad?” His brow furrows. “Not that I would know that, because you cut me out of your life. You walked out and never once looked back.” My voice breaks and tears pool in my eyes. “Why did you leave?”

“Riley.” He reaches forward to swipe the lone tear that slides down my cheek.

“No.” I shake my head and remove his hand. “You don’t get to touch me. Or explain. Or be my friend. You broke me, Jesse.” I take a step back. “Not just my heart, but me. You broke me.”

“Riley.’ He says my name again, and the way he says it, with so much pain and emotion, I half-wonder if he’s hurting as much as I am right now.

“I have to go.” I spin toward the dining room where the waiters are already serving the second course.

“Meet me at ESPresso tomorrow,” he shouts at my retreating back.

I stop walking. “No.”

He moves behind me, so close that I can feel the heat from his body scalding my bare skin. One inch closer, and I’d feel the press of the hard planes of his chest against my back.

“Please.” He dips his head to whisper in my ear, and my body shudders. Every nerve, every cell sparks to life, and it’s like the first bite of chocolate cake after a forty-day cleanse. Heavenly. Euphoric. Divine.

I close my eyes. “I can’t.”

“One coffee,” he begs.

“Why?” I wish I didn’t sound as confused and unsure as I do.

“Because I miss my best friend.” His lips graze the nape of my neck as he draws closer. “I miss you.”

My palms curl into fists, and I curse myself for being so weak. “I miss you, too.”