Now that’s the dress,” my friend Margot says, as she stands behind me in the full-length mirror in my bedroom. “You are going to slay it tonight, Serena.”

Am I?

I turn to the side, smoothing down the tight sleeveless little black dress with fringe on the bottom. It’s a hot dress just made for going out to the city to blow off some steam. I’ve dropped a lot of pounds recently, and although I’ve definitely still got curves, I’m surprised at how I look. I’m also having a good day with my auburn hair waving over one shoulder, and my eyeliner is bringing out the green of my eyes, making them look a lot less tired from all the sleep I haven’t been getting.

And it’s not only because I’m taking an online summer class to finish my Master’s degree and also getting ready for my very first teaching job at the end of the summer.

“Maybe this will do for my first night out in…well, forever.” I glance at Margot’s ultra-racy silver clubbing dress with a plunging neckline and a hem that nearly goes up to her woo-woo. The beaded material makes her dark skin glow, and her black hair is swept up in a flashy style. “All I can say is that, next to you, I look like I’m headed for the convent.”

“You? A nun?” She laughs and turns away from me. “Tell her, Sebastian. Her days of purity are long behind her!”

I gasp playfully at Margot, then turn from the mirror, wobbling only a little in my high heels. It’s been a long time since I’ve worn a pair, but I recover nicely as I walk to the crib at the other end of my bedroom. I peek into it to find little Sebastian looking up at me with his big blue eyes.

“Mamamamama!”

“Tell me about it, Bash. I can’t believe what Margot said either!” I reach down to scoop my son up, propping him on my hip and nuzzling his pudgy cheek. “She’s such a big ol’ tease, joking around with Mommy like that.”

Sebastian focuses his bright gaze on me. Every time I see those eyes, I wonder if they’re going to get grayer with a touch of blue like his father’s. And, every time, my heart breaks at the thought of what I had to do to the man I still love in order to make everyone’s lives better.

I cuddle my little boy, taking in his soft, powdery scent. “I’m going to miss you, even for just a few hours or so. But Grandma and Grandpa are gonna take good care of you.”

He lays his cheek against my chest, and I snuggle against his downy head. Maybe I’ll stay in tonight.

“Grandma and Grandpa will never get the chance to babysit if we don’t head out.” Margot comes over to tickle Sebastian, who laughs just before she kisses him. Then she marches toward the door. “You haven’t whooped it up since way before Bash was born, so let’s do this!”

When she almost runs into someone who’s coming into my room, she backtracks away from him, her hands up as she rolls her eyes.

My big brother Jack enters, still dressed in his business suit. His tie is undone and his collar is loose, but he still looks like he’s got a perpetual stick up his ass. “Great. You’re off to party, huh?”

“Don’t judge.” I keep my voice down and hold my hand over Sebastian’s ear. “Keep your nose out of this, Jack.”

“Preach,” Margot says.

Jack gives both of us a withering look. “It’d just be nice if you didn’t put all of your issues on Mom and Dad for once. It’s enough that you’ve been sponging off them in this house after you graduated from college. But now you’re making them babysit while you mess around with guys out there tonight? Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time with that creep who got you pregnant?”

I hold Sebastian tighter. There’s a lot of history between Jack and “that creep,” and it’s hard to face the disgust I see in my brother’s eyes.

“Don’t talk that way,” I say. “Especially in front of Bash.”

Jack clenches his jaw, then starts to say something else, but I interrupt him. “You don’t even live here anymore, but you wouldn’t know it based on how much you drop by with your superior attitude.”

“I’m only here to help Mom and Dad.”

Something in Jack’s gaze softens as he glances at Sebastian. I sigh as my brother relaxes then holds his arms out for my son. I slowly hand him over. Margot rolls her eyes again, this time because she’s acknowledging that at least Jack is a good uncle. It’s just that he loves Sebastian and hates the father.

Before he leaves, he sends another disapproving look at Margot and me, then shakes his head and goes out the door with my son.

“That old fart acts like he’s twenty years older than you instead of just three,” Margot says. “And, to think—I used to crush on him when I was a kid. Not as badly as you crushed on Colt back when he was best friends with Jack, but…”

Colt. The name splits the room in half, and I ignore the fissure. I grab my little purse, but Margot is relentless.

“By the way, have you seen the latest news in the tabloids about Colt getting into another big brawl with paparazzi all over the place following him?”

“No.” My hands shake as I check the contents of my purse. “And you’re forgetting our rule, Margot.”

She sighs. “No talking about Colt.”

As I start toward the door, she’s not far behind me.

“Forget the rule! It’s been such a long time since you’ve seen him—and it’s unhealthy to never speak about Sebastian’s own father. I know you still have feelings for him—”

I halt, giving Margot a death glare. “He’s off in LA being a movie star. How I feel about him is totally irrelevant.”

Then I take off down the hallway, headed toward the family room where my parents are getting ready to eat a chicken dinner in front of the TV while minding Sebastian tonight. It’s as if the truth is nipping at me and I’m running away from it as fast as I can, even in these damned heels. My heartbeat is tearing through me and I can’t breathe. I want to cry whenever I think of Colt, and that’s why I don’t think about him.

“Hold up,” Margot whispers loudly while latching onto my arm. We’re still in the hallway with the sound of the TV playing vaguely ahead and mixing with my family’s laughter. “How can your feelings for YouKnowWho be irrelevant when every road here in Haverill is lined with billboards for his upcoming movie?”

I grind my teeth. The big new summer film Margot is referring to is the one starring Colt and the gorgeous, glamorous, sickeningly perfect Jennifer Page.

“Because we live in different worlds and I accept that totally,” I lie.

I leave Margot still shaking her head as I go to the family room. The sight of my mom, my dad, and Jack all cooing at Sebastian makes the pain inside my heart fade slightly. But not by much.

I remind them that I pumped some breast milk and it’s in the fridge, along with soft foods for Sebastian. Then I hug all of them goodbye, except for Jack, of course. I nod at him as he lifts a cranky eyebrow at me. Before we go, I kiss Sebastian about a million times, and then Margot and I hop into her Prius, heading for a new upscale bar in Portland.

As the suburb’s streetlights flash by the car, Margot says, “Since YouKnowWho is definitely out of the picture for you, tonight’s mission is for you to meet a nice guy. This new place is supposed to be full of hot, young professionals—not too hipster, but not clones from corporate America either.”

“No, thanks. I just want a few craft cocktails and some dancing. That’s a night out for me.”

“Do you miss Bash already?”

I nod.

She snaps her fingers in front of me. “Then pull yourself out of it! I think having a baby made you forget how dazzling you are! In fact…”

She trails off as we see an oncoming movie billboard. The words Mystery Man hit me like a slap, followed quickly by two more smacks: Jennifer Page. Colt Brooks.

But that’s not the worst part. Oh, no, because the two of them loom over me, larger than life, staring into each other’s eyes as if they’re ready to rip each other’s swanky clothes off.

The billboard passes by with a harsh swish.

“Sorry,” Margot says.

It’s all I can do not to press my hand over my heart to make it stop hurting.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” I say. “He’s an actor. Actors make movies.”

“It’s a rom con.” Margot shrugs. “It’s totally gonna flop.”

Bull. And I don’t even know if that makes me feel better. It’s as if Margot knows it too, and she flips on some music until we cruise the thirty miles to the city and arrive at the bar.

Once we’re outside Lala’s brick-and-steel façade, I regroup. I decide that I’m not going to have a stupid billboard ruin my night after all, so in a fit of rebellion, I get out my phone and snap a picture of the building and its neon sign.

“One for the collection?” Margot asks.

“Instagram.” And, being the fledging photographer I am, I post it to my page. The dark night with the lights from the nearby streetlamps give the photo a cinematic, noirish glow. I’m even a bit cheered up now, because my friend is taking me out for a big night, and I’m going to fully enjoy it, billboard or no billboard.

I’m moving on.

I have to at least try. After all, I’m the one who basically ended things between us when I lied to Colt about our baby.

It killed me to do it, but I know that it was the right thing to do. If I hadn’t lied, Colt would still be in our dinky little town pumping gas instead of starring in blockbusters with Jennifer Page.

After we walk into Lala’s, I like the inside even better than the outside: there’s lazy neon hovering over the bar and dance floor, and the glow is reflected off the slick black furniture. Almost immediately, guys start hitting on Margot and me left and right, and they’re the cream of the trendy, friendly Portland singles scene: tech geeks in their ironic tee shirts and jeans, artisanal professionals wearing fashionable hats and boots. Margot is totally into it, but me? Not so much. They just all seem so lame compared to Colt. As always, I can’t help but compare every guy to him, and they always come up way, way short.

None of them have breath-stealing, soulful gray-blue eyes. None of them have brown bad-boy hair that’s a little too long to be respectable. None of them tower over me and have calloused, capable hands, and none of them have lips that are almost too perfect for a guy—full and quirked up on one side when he’s amused, brooding when he gets so far into his own dark thoughts that all I ever wanted to do was bring him out into the light.

It’s so easy to understand why so many women want Colt. And then it hits me again that he was actually mine, and I threw it all away.

Fuck. It still hurts, who am I kidding?

The loud techno music is pounding at my head, and two guys are talking to me on either side of my chair as I keep drinking my lemon drop at our table.

A sudden hush falls over the room just under the music. Flashes begin to twinkle around us like a light show, but it’s not from the lights on the dance floor. The flashes are from everyone’s cameras going off, and there’s an excited murmur lacing the air.

Margot leans over one of the guys who’s stopped talking to me and is looking around. “What’s going on?”

For some reason, a sensual hum skims over me, lifting the hairs on my arms. Then the people around our table part, and even before I see why the crowd is buzzing, my clit starts to ache and pound.

As if in a dream, a man in work boots, faded jeans, and a white tee shirt that clings to every muscle of his hard torso comes to overshadow the table. His gray-blue eyes are intense, his hands fisted by his sides.

“Serena,” he says.

I barely find enough air in my lungs to answer him back.

“Colt?”