When I wake for the second time, my eyes lock on the empty pillow beside me. A ripple of panic runs up and down my spine. Holden is not in bed. I pat the sheet, cool to my touch, and my heart leaps into my throat.

He left? When?

Of course, he would. What reason would he have to stay the night? I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling, fighting the urge to cry. How stupid of me to think he would still be here come morning light. Was it all a dream?

I grab the pillow next to me and sniff, finding relief in his familiar scent. Not a dream…

I sit upright at the sound of a low voice. At first, I assume it’s one of Lindsay’s newest conquests, and I flop back on the mattress, covering my face with the pillow. I so don’t have the energy to meet another of Lindsay’s boy toys right now, not with the memory of Holden’s touch so imprinted in my mind.

But then the voice comes again, louder, and I realize it belongs to Holden.

The brief spike of relief that shoots through me is tempered by fear, when I also realize that he’s in the kitchen…talking to my roommate. Shit.

I bolt out of bed and fumble into a pair of shorts and tank. It hits me that my robe is in a puddle in the living room, and we had sex on the couch—the very same couch I gave Lindsay a hard time about having sex on. My cheeks are hot and I know they’re burning red. I’m nervous about the questions Lindsay will ask, but more than that, I’m scared about what she might be telling Holden right now.

Lindsay doesn’t know everything about my past, but she knows enough that Holden could catch me in a lie.

My chest tightens and I struggle to breathe.

The thought of losing him is debilitating. Crippling. Which is ridiculous. I don’t even know him—but I care. Way more than I should. And with that realization comes another, more shocking truth: I have to come clean about who I am.

Today.

No good relationship starts with a secret. That’s practically Dating 101. And it makes sense. The lie taints everything before it even gets started. How do you trust again? Or at all? Maybe Holden isn’t ready to walk down the aisle, but last night certainly took us beyond the neat and tidy parameters of our current agreement. It’s messy and unstructured and totally…

What I want.

I float into the kitchen, both relieved and nervous to find Holden and Lindsay laughing over something. His chuckle is like liquid lava running through my core. Lindsay tops up his coffee, spots me, and raises a perfectly-manicured eyebrow. “Well, good morning sunshine.”

Lindsay cups her coffee close to her chest and addresses Holden, as if I’ve interrupted their conversation and she’s merely getting back to it. “You’re a pilot, right?”

Liquid jealousy bubbles just under my skin. Figures Lindsay would know a lot about Holden—who hasn’t heard of New York’s most eligible bachelor?—but it should have been me that said it. I don’t like the way her eyes have glassed over either, or the way Holden is staring at her, like he’s pleased she knows that.

I shake my head, flinging out the cobwebs of envy. Sure, Lindsay looks like a damn supermodel with her “just woke up” tousled hair, but she wasn’t the one Holden spent all night pleasuring. That is what I need to hang on to, even if it’s a thin thread of hope.

“Yes. Maybe someday I’ll take Chelsea on one of my jets,” Holden says, drawing my attention back to the actual conversation and not the dialogue of doubt in my brain.

“I’ve never flown anywhere,” I say. Mom and I drove, bussed, or took the train. Flying was too expensive, and always felt riskier. Like people would notice us in line at security. I hate that my father’s actions made us live like fugitives.

Holden looks at me seriously. “We’ll have to change that.”

My stomach does a double flip. Holy fuck he’s adorable, and again, I’m dragged from my dark thoughts and dropped into this fantasy.

Lindsay clears her throat, a reminder that she’s there. For a split second, I thought—dreamed?—it was just me and Holden, conversing over coffee in our apartment…

“So, er, I should go shower or something…” Lindsay says.

Our gazes meet, and in hers, I find all kinds of questions. I know she’s hurt I haven’t mentioned Holden, but even in this moment, I’m not sure what to say. Holden drains the rest of his coffee and stands. “I’d better get going.” He shakes Lindsay’s hand. “It was nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll meet again.” And then to me, “Walk me to the door.”

I practically stumble off the stool in my haste, and he grabs my elbow gently, while I regain balance.

At the door, Holden pulls me close and hangs his arms around my waist. I look up at his handsome face. Emotion clogs at the back of my throat.

“Thanks for a perfect night,” he says.

A delicious thrill runs up and down my spine.

He gently touches his lips to mine.

I am awash in guilt. But I can’t ignore the impact I’ve had on his life, without him knowing who I am.

Every cell in my body begs me to come clean. A confession lingers on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t get the words out. Damn it. Telling Holden who I am is the right thing to do. There isn’t—can’t be—another option. But as I look into Holden’s glistening eyes, my heart leaps into my throat, effectively cutting off my vocal chords.

Maybe I don’t have to tell him right….now. Not when we’ve finally gotten somewhere real. Not when we’re finally past the cool, hard exterior and into a part of Holden that’s even more alluring and mysterious.

Holden leans in for another kiss, this time lingering on my lips as last night’s memories come flooding back. My knees buckle. A deep sigh pulls from my mouth.

“I need to get out of here before I lose my willpower altogether,” he says, with a quick nip at the corner of my mouth. He opens the door, and kisses me lightly again, just as a group of college girls walk by on their way out of the dorm. My body stills. I’m sure I can hear them whispering about me. About Holden. About us.

No use pretending that they won’t recognize him. Holden Quinn is on the cover of three different magazines this month alone—a copy of each is tucked away in the drawer of my bedside table.

“People will say things about us,” I whisper.

He turns to watch the girls, just as they round the corner, giggling and glancing over their shoulders like high school cheerleaders, not college students. Holden pulls me close, his chest firm against mine. To my shock, my nipples go instantly hard and sensitive to his touch.

“Then let’s give them something to talk about, sweetness,” he says, closing his mouth over mine.

My stomach lurches with guilt. I should not want this. I don’t deserve it, not after everything I’m doing to deceive him. But damn if I don’t have the strength to pull away. And it feels so nice just to give in…

“I’ll see you tonight,” he says, finally breaking free. “7 p.m. at the office. Don’t be late.”