He isn’t going to be there. He isn’t going to be there. He isn’t going to be there.

I keep repeating that to myself as I fight to get my thigh highs up my legs. I asked Chandler if I could interview him because he’s like the king of the engineering world and this opportunity to speak in front of so many amazing women only happens once in a lifetime. Chandler agreed, so I have to believe that it’ll be only him. Plus, I can’t make him suspicious of what Roan and I did in the past by asking any more questions.

But the butterflies swirling in my stomach are intense, and I wish they’d stop. Something is plaguing me, screaming at me and telling me that Roan will be there. If he is, what the hell am I supposed to do? Shake his hand and pretend as if I’m not mentally replaying the amazing sex we had and how he left me without so much as a note or thanks for a good time? Regardless, none of that truly matters. What he and I did is so far in the past that I’m sure he doesn’t even remember it.

Too bad I haven’t been able to forget it. I haven’t met a single man who could even come close to how amazing Roan is. Every man I’m with, I find myself comparing him to Roan. Which is so wrong considering he was never really mine in the first place.

Roan was always Chandler’s best friend, my old brother’s wingman. Growing up, I had an insane crush on him, but he was always too old for me. Then, one day, he wasn’t. I was a woman, and he was a man—a gorgeous, perfect, and sexually tempting man. We shared a summer of flirting, emotions ran wild, and then he gave me the most mind-blowing sex of my life.

My chest heats as I remember that night. At first, he was sweet and so very, very gentle . . . as if he was scared he was going to hurt me. When I asked for more, he unleashed a beast, and I loved every single second being with him. I thought he did, too, but obviously, he didn’t.

Chandler: You bringing me Starbucks, baby sis?

Me: If I can ever leave my house, sure.

Chandler: What’s the holdup?

Me: Nothing, I’m on my way!

I yank up my other thigh high and slip on my favorite black heels, the ones with little bows on the back, and head out of my new condo.

Being back in Boston is still a bit surreal. After I left for school, I never thought I’d return. It’s the place my parents died. Minus Chandler, there is nothing here for me. But I couldn’t turn down the job I got after graduation, even though it came with a transfer home.

After stopping at Starbucks and picking up both my and Chandler’s drinks, I park in the garage of his office building and take the familiar elevator ride to the eleventh floor.

My heart is beating rapidly, not knowing if Roan will be on the other side of the elevator when it opens. If he is, I just need to remind myself that I vowed to focus on my career and let anything we ever were, go. Thankfully, I find only my brother and the receptionist, as he leans over her shoulder showing her something on the computer screen. He looks up when the elevator doors slide closed behind me and gives me a big smile. “There’s my sister,” he says, coming over to me and kissing me on the cheek. His light blond hair needs a trim since I last saw him, but other than that, he hasn’t changed much at all.

“How are you?” I ask, passing him his iced coffee.

“I’m good. I was just showing Veronica here how to filter through all the crap emails we get. You remember that, huh?” I nod with sympathy. If it’s as bad as it was when I interned here, she’s in for it. “Veronica, this is my sister, Mia,” he introduces us.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell the cute brunette before shaking her hand over the desk.

“You ready to do this?” he asks.

“You have no idea.”

I follow Chandler away from the reception area and down the hallway of glass-walled offices. My eyes are on Roan’s office, remembering just which one is his, and when I find it empty, I feel like I can breathe.

Thank God.

Then Chandler opens the door to another office across the hall from Roan’s, and my heart stops. He switched offices. Roan is sitting behind his big desk with his phone pressed to his ear, the tattoos on his arm are peeking out from beneath his suit. He’s as gorgeous as I remember. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a smirk that has starred in my dreams. I’m basically panting and a flurry of emotions roars through me as I come face to face with the perfect bastard again. When his eyes flick to the door, they lock with mine and his demeanor changes. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but all the oxygen is stripped from my lungs, and I swear at any second I could faint. I pull my eyes from his gaze purely out of self-preservation.

Hold it together, Mia.

“Off the phone, fucker!” Chandler scolds him.

From the corner of my eye, I catch Roan flip him off, and then I nervously sip my coffee. It’s the first drink I’ve taken, and the shit burns my fucking mouth. I about whine from the pain, pissed that companies find it necessary to serve flaming hot drinks to their guests.

Still, when Chandler looks back at me, I have tears in my eyes. “You okay?”

I nod. “I burned my mouth on my drink.”

“Damn, you want some ice?”

“Please,” I tell him and head around the corner into the conference room as he goes toward the kitchen. My tongue feels like I just swallowed a layer off it. I set my stuff on the table and take a seat, not sure how I’m going to get through this. My insides are a mess, which I should be used to considering they are always a mess when Roan is around.

Then he walks into the room, distracting my every thought. I swear my body temperature rises a couple of degrees. “Mia, how are you?” he asks. His voice is deep, and my name rolls off his tongue like silk. He extends his hand, and I stand to shake his hand, but he pulls me into a tight hug, spinning my mind back to that night. To how badly I wanted him, to how badly I still want him. Fuck, we were amazing together, but he didn’t feel it.

“I’m good,” I tell him into his ear, smelling his scent. It’s the same as it’s always been.

“You look good,” he tells me and finally lets me go before sitting at the head of the table.

“Thanks.” I sit to his left as Chandler comes in and sets a cup of ice next to my coffee. Roan made me forgot all about my tongue. Chandler sits across from me, his attention so fixed on his phone that he doesn’t notice the way Roan is staring at me. I swallow, trying to ignore it as well. I can’t fall into the same trap that is Roan. Not again.

“So, you gonna ask Mia for her help, or what?” Chandler blurts out, placing his phone on the table. I turn to Roan, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Nah, I told ya, I’m good.”

“Come on, man. You’re far from good,” Chandler says, leaning back in his chair, resting his arms behind his head.

“What’s the matter?” No matter what history muddies the water between us, these two have never been cryptic around me.

“Roan needs to have the birds and bees talk with his girls, and since his loony ex-wife bailed . . . I told him to ask you.”

“Really, it’s no big deal,” Roan interjects, and I’m thankful he doesn’t want my help on this one. Honestly, the last thing I want to do is help him talk to his daughters about sex.