A week later, it’s the day of our meeting with Ryan, his family, and the football player who will help fulfill his wish.

Having met with the family and this special little boy in the hospital earlier in the week, where I sat with them while Ryan received a chemotherapy treatment, I couldn’t wait to introduce him. Couldn’t wait to watch his face light up and hear all of the adorable questions he’d ask his hero.

He reminded me so much of Julian; the same diagnosis, almost the same age, that light brown hair that has started to fall out in clumps.

“Everything is in place?” I ask Gina.

With everything else we had going on, along with the two society events I’d attended this week in hopes of recruiting new board members, I hadn’t had time to plan every nitty-gritty detail of Ryan’s wish. I was more interested in getting to know the family, which I’d started to do with my visit to the hospital. But, I knew that his dream included the football team here in Charlotte, and something about sitting on the sidelines at a game. Gina and Farrah had overseen the actual acquiring and scheduling, and I’m sure we are going to meet with Harry, the public relations rep for the Cheetahs.

“We’re all set, boss. He’s already here, talking with Ryan and his family. Insisted on coming himself, instead of Harry. Although Harry does send his best.” Gina points to our conference room, the glass-encased hub sitting in the middle of our office that you could look right into.

I turned, my dark chocolate eyes landing on the figure sitting next to the sweet little boy.

My hands began to shake. The back of my neck tingled with anticipation. My stomach became a knot of nerves, sending up an anxious noise that I had to swallow in my throat.

He wasn’t even in the same room as I was, my position to him staring through the glass walls of the conference room, and yet he could still affect me like this.

I was shaking in my nicest Ann Taylor suit, all because Paxton Shaw was, once again, in the same building as I was.

Sandy blond hair cropped short, stunning green eyes, a black stud in his left ear, the strong as steel jaw that is now covered in a sandy blond beard. He’s a man now, so different than the boy I once knew, but still so much the same.

My ovaries could barely contain themselves. I wanted to smack them, traitorous organs.

“Why is the most famous tight end in the league sitting in our conference room?” Gina walks up beside me, her eyes almost undressing him across our office.

“Tight end?” My tongue practically falls out of my mouth thinking about how firm his ass was when I used to see it.

“Seriously? With all of the football teams we’re around while granting wishes and you still haven’t picked up any terms or positions? Demi, I’m ashamed. That’s Paxton Shaw, all-star tight end in the National Football League. He’s got like, three Super Bowl rings, his name in record books, and is fine as hell to boot.”

She’d mistaken me. Of course, I knew who Paxton Shaw was, and I knew he was a professional athlete, Facebook be damned. But, I knew who he was for a very different reason than the hundreds of thousands of Americans who worshipped at his feet every Sunday.

It had been eight years since I’d seen him, but it was as if I could feel Paxton’s hands over every inch of my body.

My feet, somehow, miraculously move, following Gina. I have to attend this meeting, and I try to mask my emotions, lock them away. I hope I’m doing a good job, but hell if I can tell. Internally, every warning bell is going off.

I entered the room, feeling like all the air left as the glass door shut behind me.

Ryan, his parents, and Joe, our scheduling coordinator, looked up as Gina and I entered. Paxton’s gray eyes turned a split-second later, taking us in.

And … he completely doesn’t recognize a thing about me.

I flush, I can’t help it, embarrassment suffusing my bones. Oh my God, he has no idea who I am.

I’ve had vivid, sexual dreams about him for years. Have gone over and over in my head what I did wrong for him not to want me. Thought about how my life would be different if we had committed to each other.

And Paxton Shaw has absolutely no recollection of my face whatsoever.

“Hello, everyone. Ryan, it’s so good to see you again. How you feeling, kiddo?” I snap into professional mode, not wanting to give that man anymore of my attention.

“Hi, Miss Demi! I got a signed jersey!” He holds up the shirt on the table in front of him, his crooked smile adorable with its missing teeth.

“That is so cool! I hope these adults aren’t boring you too much.” I wink conspiratorially at him.

He giggles, and I look to his mother, who has tears in her eyes. This is probably the best he’s felt in a year, and I know what it’s like to be grateful for that. I sit down, next to her, squeezing her hand.

Joe starts the meeting, detailing what game Ryan and his family will go to, how they’ll take part in practice beforehand, his position standing with the coaches during the first and second quarter.

I know it’s awkward that I haven’t greeted Paxton yet, haven’t extended my hand and thanked him for being here.

I turn to face him, painting a fake smile on my face. I can do this, I’m stronger than I once was.

This man, the one sitting directly across the table from me, had been my kryptonite. He’d strung me along, on and off, for two whole years.

And in the end, had ruined me for anyone else, forever.