Tessa finished the spoonful of salted caramel ice cream Tuesday evening and dropped it into the pint before pushing it away in case she felt compelled to eat another bite. If she drowned her stress in ice cream like this for much longer, she would have to be rolled out of here.

Her phone buzzed and she stared warily at it, wondering what bad news could be on its way now. But it was only a text message from Dylan, and she grabbed it with relief.

Finished early. Should I keep myself busy another couple hours or are you ready for my charming company?

She quickly typed her response.

Now.

She didn’t dare try to say more or let him know the turmoil she was in. How, despite everything she’d worked for these past few years, it might all be done thanks to a silly photo. Apparently the partners of the firm didn’t like to see their grieving employees who were supposed to be playing nursemaid to an ill parent out fraternizing with rock stars. Pending an investigation, she was suspended for the next three days.

Reeling from the news, she’d barely managed to keep her dignity as she strode down the hall and elevator until she reached the fresh air, where she was hit with a barrage of photographers. Somehow they’d figured out not only where she was employed but—as she saw when she arrived home—her house address.

It had been oddly unsetting to have the cameras trained on her, hoping for something they could print and subject her to more scrutiny. Which was why, after she’d arrived back in the safety of the three-bedroom duplex, she’d locked the door and planted herself on the couch wondering how things had gotten so crazy.

By the time Dylan knocked on the door twenty minutes later, she was a ball of nerves from wondering if she was making a mistake in letting him come here when her partners had suspended her for fraternizing with him in the first place. Cautiously, she peered out, confirming it was him and the blessed lack of photographers before grabbing him and pulling him inside.

Dylan looked bemused, rubbing his arm from where she’d tugged on him. “That wasn’t exactly the kind of greeting I was hoping for. Are we under attack out there?”

“You could say that.”

He studied her face, his own growing serious as he realized her distress. “Hey. What’s going on? You’re staying off social media, right?”

“I am, but even that is killing me since I’m torn between wanting to know what’s being said and remaining blissfully ignorant of the same.” She nodded outside. “Then there were photographers waiting outside the office and when I got home today. Which was almost as bad as the moment I was called into the partners’ meeting, where I was informed I was suspended.”

“They suspended you?” he asked, sounding both confused and angry on her behalf. “Wait. Step back,” he said and led her to the couch. “What did they say?”

She relayed to him what the partners had said first thing when she arrived to work, how they questioned her integrity when she initially said she had to take emergency leave, and how in light of recent photos, they wanted to get more information before they made their decision.

“Idiots. Treating you like that. Damn it.” Dylan sat forward, staring in front of him. “This is all my fault. I should have known that Roxie was a loose cannon and been more careful. Made her think the entire breakup was her decision.”

“Hey. This isn’t on you,” she said, surprised at the remorse and angst in his tone.

He didn’t look convinced, his face drawn in tight lines. “But if this happened this morning, why didn’t you call me and tell me? I would have canceled my meetings to be here for you.”

“I know you would have, and I didn’t want you to. The only bright spot in this whole day right now, besides being with you, is knowing that those meetings will bring you one step closer to building the new community art center.”

He nodded, seeming mollified by her response. “What can I do to help you feel better? I made reservations for us to eat at that new sushi bar, but in light of today’s events, we can settle for somewhere quieter. Maybe just takeout if you prefer.”

Despite the half pint of ice cream from earlier, her stomach growled at the thought of actual food. Other than toast this morning, she hadn’t eaten much. “Takeout sounds great.”

“Good, because I’m starved, and if you didn’t notice, I have a sweet Mercedes GT Coupe on loan outside, ready to take us wherever we want. So what are you feeling like? Thai? Chinese? Burgers?”

“Definitely Chinese.”

“Then Chinese it is.”

His chipper, upbeat swing in mood had her mood lifting. Stressing about work any more than she already had was wasted energy. What she wanted was to relax with her boyfriend and eat her weight in Chinese food.

Maybe even play a little Speed with stakes higher than the satisfaction of winning.

She grinned, already feeling the adrenaline rushing through her.

Dylan made small talk as he drove them to the restaurant, careful to keep his voice upbeat and casual even if inside he was racked with guilt and anger over everything that had transpired against Tessa. All because of him.

Tessa being bullied by internet trolls thanks to his ex-girlfriend’s social media post. Tessa suspended from a job where she’d worked hard, a job that she could very well lose. And now being stalked by paparazzi. He was afraid to see what another day would bring.

He pulled into a spot not far from the restaurant and took the keys from the ignition, ready to grab the food.

“No, let me get it. I’m less likely to be noticed than you,” Tessa said. “Since your arrival at my place seems to have escaped the paparazzi’s notice, let’s not take any chances.”

He looked around. “I don’t think anyone followed us. Let me come along at least.”

“Not a chance,” she said and leaned over to kiss him. “I’m not running the risk. Not today.”

She hopped out before he could voice any further argument. Not seeing much choice, Dylan remained in the car, scanning through his phone to pass the time. Even though he usually made a rule of ignoring any social media posts that concerned him, he figured he should at least see what was the current buzz for Tessa’s sake.

He flinched as he read the comments from people who had no idea who Tessa was or how amazing she was. People who chose to make cruel and false statements just because she had the gall to date someone they thought should be with someone else.

Damn. No wonder she was upset.

He stared again at the phone, hating the fact he was considering calling Roxie to do whatever he had to so she’d pull her fans and their vitriol back, but not seeing much choice. Before the call could connect, however, some movement to his left caught his attention, and he glanced over, nearly missing the guy who was sitting low in the front seat of the dark sedan, the glint of light from the headlight of a passing car on the camera lens tipping off his hiding spot.

Had to be paparazzi. Probably had been there all along, tailing them in hopes of some primo photo. Up ahead, Tessa came out of the restaurant with the food, unaware of the photographer across the street as she smiled and waved to him.

In a flash, more guys with cameras he hadn’t seen before suddenly emerged from the darkness and descended on Tessa, who still hadn’t recognized what was about to happen.

Oh, hell.

Dylan disconnected the call and hopped out, ready to mow everyone down if he had to to protect Tessa, public display or not. As he drew near, he could see from the panic and shock in her face she knew the mob was intended for her, and he called out her name.

She stepped back to get away from them. At seeing his approach, the photographers turned their cameras to him, but his attention was only on Tessa, who, in her haste to get away, had misjudged the distance from the curb and was falling backwards. Her shoulder slammed against the asphalt first as her head swung down and landed in a sickening thud. Dylan was still pushing people away as an approaching car swerved in time to keep from hitting her.

“Tessa?” he asked so quietly as he reached her, his voice hoarse as he tried to restrain his terror. He heard someone say, “Call an ambulance” just as Tessa moved her head and opened her eyes, taking a moment to refocus on him.

“Dylan? What happened?”

“You fell.” He studied her, looking for any bleeding. “Are you hurt? Tell me where you’re hurting.”

She seemed dazed as she thought about it. “My shoulder is hurting pretty good. And my head.”

He nodded, relieved she was conscious and coherent.

Whatever professionalism had temporarily ceased the photographers’ attack disappeared, and the flashing of bulbs from the cameras resumed. Damn. It was a risk, but hell if he was going to let her lie here as those cretins took advantage of the situation to get their shots.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said and slipped his hands under her body and tentatively took her weight in his arms.

She grimaced but didn’t say anything. Drawing his strength, he pulled her up and came to his feet, cradling her. He didn’t stop as he made his way back to the car and opened the passenger door, gently setting her down. She stared dazedly ahead as the fury of flashes continued.

Swearing under his breath, he managed to contain his fury as he reached his door and climbed in. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Of course. Once I get home and lie down, I’ll be fine.”

“Sure. Right after I take you to the hospital to be checked out.”

“It’s nothing, Dylan. I’ll be fine. Nothing that some ibuprofen and ice won’t cure.”

“All the same, I’ll feel better if the doctors check you over.” He glanced in his rearview mirror at the circus he left behind, the bag of takeout spilled all over the sidewalk.

That had been close. A few inches more and her head could have been out on the road, crushed under the wheel of a car.

All because of him.

Splitting pain emanated from the back of her head as Tessa woke up early the next morning. She peered at the clock. Eight thirty. She tried to sit up, flinching as she absently put weight on her right hand.

That’s right.

She’d fallen hard, and as a reminder, she had a sprained wrist and the entire right side of her body was bruised and aching. Tentatively, she reached for the bottle of medicine and water, slurping them down before trying to get her bearings.

It was strange to wake up back in her bed in the city, the whole place empty as her roommates had undoubtedly gone off to work, neither of them aware of the turmoil Tessa had experienced over the past twenty-four hours. It made her feel oddly empty and alone to not be able to share that with them.

Then there was Dylan. After days of newfound joy and happiness basking in his attention, she could sense even before she’d taken the fall that something was off. But his pensiveness had grown as they reached the hospital, and he’d barely been able to hold her gaze. She’d tried to laugh off her fall, told him that she was going to have to invest in protective gear if she was going to date a rock star, but the laughter had been forced.

Her last words to him when he tucked her in bed and kissed her chastely on the forehead were that her fall wasn’t his fault, something she’d been sensing he might feel responsible for.

He hadn’t responded.

Glancing around her room now, she stopped when she realized that Dylan was still there, sleeping in the chair by her window.

He’d stayed here all night? Watching over her?

As if he sensed her scrutiny, Dylan’s eyes opened.

“Hey,” she said. “Did you sleep there?”

He raised his arms above his head and stretched before wiping the sleep from his eyes. “I was sitting here most of the time. Sleep was a little harder. I did meet your roommate last night. Quinn, I think? Brown hair and an inquisitive disposition?”

She smiled, flinching slightly at the pain. “That sounds about right. No Anna?”

“She texted you both saying she was staying with Nick. I told Quinn about the accident and assured her that I would stay with you through the night and see that you were okay in the morning. She was kind of torn up that she couldn’t stay. I guess she has some trial she’s in the middle of, but Anna is going to be here soon.”

“How are you holding up?”

“Me? I should be asking you the same. Did you need some pain meds?” he asked, looking her over.

“I just took them. I’m going to be sore for a few days but nothing was broken, no concussion, so I would say that I got away fairly unscathed.”

“I wouldn’t say unscathed.” His expression and tone said he didn’t agree with her, and she could see anger in his brown eyes.

“I’ll be fine, Dylan. Really. Hey, at least I don’t have to worry about asking for more time off from the partners, right? I’m already suspended,” she said, trying for humor. But he didn’t smile, not even a glimmer of one. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He studied his fingers for a long moment, her unease growing. “I was up all night, all these thoughts running through my head about us.”

She swallowed, careful to sound casual as she asked, “What about us?”

He breathed in heavily and let it out before taking a seat on the bed. “I just—I just have been thinking that things have gotten pretty complicated for you since I came back into the picture. With you maybe losing your job, all the public fury wrongly directed your way, and that frenzy of paparazzi who nearly killed you last night?”

“They hardly nearly killed me. My falling was because of my own clumsiness.”

His eyes were almost haunted as he shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t yours,” she snapped back, suddenly trying to tamp down the fear that this thing she had just started to embrace was somehow at risk of being pulled away from her.

“Look, Tessa,” he said, his voice soft and imploring. “I was wrong to think I could just jump back in your life after all this time, that there wouldn’t be consequences. I didn’t really see the full picture. Things are always going to be complicated where they concern me. I’ll be on the road half the year once this next tour gets going, which means I’ll be coming in and out of your life, always bringing with me drama and all that”—he nodded his head outside to what she assumed meant the photographers—“which, if you haven’t lost your job already, could jeopardize it all over again. You deserve better than that. You deserve stability, a life not subject to public scrutiny. You deserve a good, happy life with someone who won’t…complicate it. Someone like Eric.”

Something inside her felt like it was being torn open, and a fury rose up, fury that had been buried these past few years but was only starting to flow to the surface. Of anger and things that were still unsaid between them.

“So what? You’re going to leave again? Give up?” she asked, her voice eerily calm despite her unleashed fury. “No discussion? I mean, this involves me, too. Shouldn’t I have some say in the matter?”

“That’s what we’re doing now. And I’m telling you that maybe we should take a step back for a little while. Make sure that this is something you want in your life. Lord knows I have a few things I probably need to sort through, too. Like my dad’s death, finding out I have a sister, not to mention this new business venture with Finn and this album I need to write.”

A lot of excuses. A lot of things that he could deal with if he really wanted to be with her.

The truth was staring at her in the face.

He didn’t want her. She was a liability. A drain to his life and schedule.

She couldn’t hear any more. It was like before. He was going to leave and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

“Okay. You’re right. You’ve said what you wanted to say. But I can’t stay on this ride anymore. We could have had a future. But you’re too damned stubborn and scared to see that all over again. You know, I don’t need a week or a month or even a year to know that you’re not the man I thought you might be. You take care of whatever needs fixing, but I’m not going to be waiting for you when you’re done.”

He was silent, his face tense as they glared at each other. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Another reason to disappear permanently? If he’d expected her to plead with him, to sob uncontrollably that everything would be okay, he’d be disappointed. She wasn’t that person.

She was going to cry all right, but only after he left.

“I need you to go, Dylan. Just…go.” She swallowed a large lump that found its way into her throat.

More seconds passed until she saw the answer in his eyes. The resignation that hung from his broad shoulders as he reached his feet. Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of panic swept over her. A panic that came when you were about to lose someone who meant the entire world to you and there wasn’t a thing you could do about it.

She’d had it when she heard about her mom.

She’d had it when Dylan walked away ten years ago.

And she was having it now.

Unwittingly, she put her hand to her mouth, biting back the impulse to ask him to stay, to beg him not to go even though she’d just said the opposite moments before. Her heart ached and her breathing became more and more difficult as she watched him head to the door, pausing briefly.

Then he was gone, the sound of the front door shutting a minute later echoing through the empty place.

He’d left her again. She’d let it happen all over again.

Why had she given him another chance? Opening herself up to this kind of pain wasn’t worst the risk.

Love wasn’t worth the risk.