I sit cross-legged on the couch absently eating from a pint of Truffle Kerfuffle. Law & Order is on, but I can’t concentrate. I have Colt Emerson on the brain. On my way home from the diner, I dropped by a drugstore and saw his larger-than-life image on another gossip rag. Now he wants me to be a part of that circus. There was a time when I would have leaped at his proposal. I’m a different woman now.

My life is quiet and safe. Sure, I’m not independently wealthy, but I’m not living paycheck-to-paycheck either. I have a fulfilling writing career. I have my laptop. My friends on social media. Everything I need is right here in my sister’s apartment. Nothing needs to change.

As I savor another spoonful of frozen temptation, a whistled tune fills the air. I turn to find Pedro strolling naked toward the kitchen. “Omigod!” I turn away so fast, Linda Blair would be proud—but not before my gaze rakes across Pedro’s buns of steel.

“Oh, pequeño huevo, I did not know you were here.”

His Spanish nickname for me falls on deaf ears as I squeeze my eyes shut. Normally, I would give him hell for comparing me to a little egg, but I’m too busy being embarrassed for both of us. Did the man have no shame?

“Look, Romeo, I don’t know how they do it in Spain, but in this country, we wear robes around roommates.”

“Oh, sì. I forgot how old-fashioned you Americans are about nudity.”

“Pedro…” Denyse’s singsong voice calls as she walks into the room. “My sister isn’t old-fashioned. She’s an introvert.”

“I am not an introvert!” I screech, shaking my clenched my fists in the air. “And I cannot believe we’re having this conversation with a naked man in the room!”

“Fine,” Pedro huffs. “I can take a hint.”

“I was beginning to wonder.”

Denyse plops down beside me on the sofa. “He’s gone now, sis.”

I open my eyes as she plucks the spoon from my hand and digs into the container of ice cream. Normally, I don’t mind sharing with my sister, but the fact that her mouth is going to be on my spoon after it’s probably been on Pedro’s parts… Ugh. I surrender the entire pint to her.

“Shayla, I’m worried about you. All you do is sit around pecking on that computer all day. You hardly ever leave this apartment.” She scoops out a delectable-looking pecan that I was saving for myself. I silently curse Pedro as she spoons it into her mouth and crunches it. This is his fault.

“Why leave when I get all the entertainment I need listening to the squeaky floorboards above me?”

“Sorry about that.” She punctuates her apology with the same tolerant smile she reserves for babies and old folks. I count myself lucky, since she rarely smiles. Some people refer to it as her RBF, Resting Bitch Face. I say she’s just being fierce. She’s a model after all. Fierce sells clothes and all that other stuff.

I fold my arms over each other, trying to project my best nonchalant shrug, like I don’t give a damn. I really do. “Don’t be sorry. You’re happy. You found a man who fulfills you.”

“One day, you will, too. But it won’t happen if you won’t even go on a date.”

“Uh, excuse you. I had a date today.”

“I’m not talking about lunch or a business meeting with a client.”

“It was a real date with a handsome man. In fact, it turned out to be a marriage proposal.”

“What?” She pitches forward and chokes. For a minute, I think I might have to perform the Heimlich maneuver on her. I whack her on the shoulder blades. Thankfully, it’s a false alarm. She quickly recovers. “Who would ask you to marry them?”

My head jerks to one side. “Am I not capable of getting a proposal? I know I’m not beautiful and vivacious like you.” I throw up my hands. “We can’t all be Victoria’s Secret models.”

The moment the words leave my lips, I regret them. I’m being mean-spirited. My sister loves me. She’s simply in shock, since I haven’t mentioned any real contenders in years.

Her dark eyes meet mine. “Shayla, I know you’re a catch. I only meant I didn’t know you were dating anyone serious.” Concern pours from her voice, and I feel even worse for my outburst. She stakes the spoon into the pint, leaving it to stand on its own. “Who is this guy? When can I meet him?”

“You’ve already met him.”

Her lips scrunch into a frown. I can literally see the wheels churning in her head. “Is it someone you met through your writing? Or on a freelance assignment?”

“It’s Colt.”

“Colt? I only know one Colt.”

“That’s the one.”

I cover my ears as Denyse launches to her feet, damn near losing her balance. The scream she belts out feels like it lasts a full minute. “What! Colt Emerson asked you to marry him?”

“Yep.” Right now the whole thing seems hilarious, but I wasn’t laughing five hours ago.

“Mi amor, are you okay?” Pedro calls from the top of the stairs.

“I’m fine!” Denyse replies. “Although Shayla is damn near giving me a heart attack.” She glowers down at me, fists on her hips, legs braced like an upside down V. I guess her Superwoman pose is supposed to intimidate me. It does—just a teensy bit. “When? Where? What did you say?”

I escape into the kitchen to elude her barrage of questions. I’m still trying to make sense of this myself. She stalks after me, her knee-high striped socks soundless on the wood floor. Only Denyse can make jogging shorts and tube socks look sexy. On me, they would look like Humpty Dumpty at a track meet.

I prop a hip against the granite countertop before giving her the quick and dirty version of what happened earlier with Colt, including the part about Cee.

“Why are you even considering this? The man devastated you. He—”

“I know what he did. I don’t need a recap.”

Denyse shakes her head. “I can’t let you do this.”

“I have to make my own decisions.”

“All of a sudden Colt appears out of nowhere and you fall for him? Where was he when you practically self-destructed waiting on his call? You couldn’t eat. You couldn’t sleep. It was as if a part of you had died. I’m surprised you have any tear ducts left—you nearly destroyed them crying your heart out!”

“Once again, I know what happened. I was there.” My voice is barely a whisper as I blink back painful memories.

“Why did you agree to meet with him? I don’t get it.”

“It’s complicated. While you’ve been jet setting across the globe, living the life most women only dream of, I’ve been surviving here in the real world.”

Her eyes fill with compassion. She smooths my hair and tucks a renegade curl behind my left ear. “You miss him?”

“So much it hurts.” I lean in for the hug she offers. Her hand absently rubbing my back is a gesture she’s used many times in the past to comfort me. In this moment, we’re not just sisters. We’re two women who’ve experienced heartbreak. We both know the range of emotions that brings. “Thanks for not judging me.”

She pulls back, holding me at arm’s length and giving my shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Oh, I’m not finished with you, yet. The jury is in recess.”

My laptop chimes. I use the interruption as an excuse to change the subject. “I have to check that. It could be work.”

I access my Facebook account and scroll through my messages. My heart races when I see one from Colt. Déjà vu. He isn’t going to leave me alone. He can be damn tenacious when he wants something. And right now, it’s obvious he wants me.