“Beck,” I complain, cradling my phone between my shoulder and cheek as I enter my condo. I quickly slip off my heels before setting my briefcase down on the dining room chair. “You said you wouldn’t buy me another dress.”

“I couldn’t resist ordering it. Plus, it’s for a good cause. You know I always go to the Mayo Clinic’s fundraiser gala.”

With a sigh, I shake my head. “You really need to find a girlfriend.”

“Who needs a real girlfriend when I have you? You nag me enough that I feel like I have one,” he jokes.

I roll my eyes. “Very funny.”

Becket’s tone sobers. “You know the Mayo Clinic’s important for me.”

“I know,” I reply softly. He’d lost his mother to ovarian cancer years ago and the Mayo Clinic here in Jacksonville went above and beyond in helping to give Mrs. Jones more time with her sons before she finally succumbed to the disease.

“What’s the date so I can mark it in my planner?”

I pull out the thick booklet, flipping to the designated month as Becket informs me, and jot down a quick reminder. As I slide the planner back inside my briefcase, a soft knock sounds at my door.

It’s late, nearly eight thirty at night. “Becket?” I hiss quietly.

“Blue?” comes his exaggerated whispered response, laced with humor.

“Someone just knocked on my door,” I whisper because while the management of these condos claim these units are “soundproof,” they are not. At least not entirely.

“So check and see who it is.” Becket hurriedly adds, “Through the peephole, of course.”

I pad across the sleek hardwood floor to approach the door, and lift to my toes to peer through the peephole.

And my entire body freezes, my heartbeat stuttering.

Knox Montgomery is on the other side.

Spinning around, my hand flies to my chest, palm flat over where my heart is pounding. “Becket!”

“Why do you keep whispering my name?” His voice is tinged with humor. “Are you trying to upgrade to friends with benefits?”

“Stop!” I hiss, rushing away to put more distance between myself and the door. I whirl around to stare at it in horror when another knock sounds. “He’s here. At my door.” I swallow hard and my anxiety increases when Becket doesn’t immediately offer a response.

“I’m assuming I know who he is.”

“You do.”

“Huh,” is all he says for a moment. “Well, I can tell you one thing for sure.”

The mischief in his tone is evident and has me preparing for an eye roll.

“And what’s that?”

“He ain’t a Jehovah’s Witness wanting to talk about Jesus, nor is he deliverin’ a welcome casserole or—”

Yes, I was right. Eye roll. “I got it.”

“So open the door.”

“But what does he—”

This time Becket cuts me off. “Well, Blue, when a man likes a woman—”

“I’m hanging up now.”

I receive his husky laugh in response before he quickly utters a soft, “Blue, be careful, okay? Unfinished business can be tricky.”

“I will,” I utter softly. “Love you, Beck.”

“Right back atcha.”

I end the call and toss my phone on the couch just as another knock sounds on my door, this one softer, seemingly more tentative, almost half-hearted.

My feet carry me soundlessly to the door, and one hand grasps the cool metal of the door handle. My hand reaches up to unlock the deadbolt, and I cautiously open the door a crack.

My stomach gives that little lurch when I see him standing before me, still wearing the same clothes from earlier, perfectly tailored suit pants and button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His dark hair appears mussed as though he’s run his hands through it multiple times.

Emerald eyes lock with mine. “EJ.”

I lean against the doorjamb, not opening the door fully, curious as to why he’s here.

Scared as hell as to why he might be here.

“Knox.” My voice comes out wispy, slightly breathless sounding.

He drags a hand through his hair and shoves the other into his pocket. Shaking his head, he briefly glances down at his shoes before his eyes return to me.

“I don’t know why I’m here…no.” He shakes his head again with a deprecating quirk of his lips. “That’s a lie. I know why I’m here.”

His expression sobers, and his gaze, laden with barely veiled heat that radiates through me, nearly singes me with its intensity. “It’s because there’s still something here.” He waves a hand, gesturing back and forth between us. “Something powerful and I don’t know what it is, but for some reason I just need…” The urgency in his tone fades, and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for him to conclude his thought. There’s a beat of silence before he finishes, and his tone is husky, holding a heartfelt tenderness. “You.” He swallows hard, his eyes searching. “I need you.”

Vulnerability lines his features as he waits for my response.

My words feel like they’re lodged in my throat, so unsure whether I heard him correctly. Finally, I manage to speak and repeat his words with a questioning lilt at the end. “You need me?”

Slowly, he dips his head in a nod, his eyes locked with mine. “Yes.”

“What about”—I break off with a slow exhale—“our…” Past, I silently tack on.

Knox steps closer and lays a palm against the doorframe. “I don’t care.” He leans in, bringing his lips a hairbreadth away from mine. “I just want you.”

My eyes flicker between his lips and those green eyes, which watch me with intensity while I war with myself internally. Every part of me wants to give in, but a fraction of one. There’s one part that continues in a standoff.

My heart. The one he shattered years ago.

The funny thing about the heart is that even it can be conflicting, because there’s a tug-of-war happening within mine. One part vividly recalls Knox’s betrayal and the pain he inflicted, while the other recalls just how much I loved him.

Startling Knox, I launch myself at him, flinging my arms around his neck. I tug him to me, and my lips collide with his in a tempestuously feverish kiss.

And it’s clear which part of my heart won the battle.