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“Yeah, of course,” I say. I already know she’s going to be my calm force, the grounding words I need to settle these thoughts running haywire in my brain.

She guides me away from the table, far enough to keep our conversation private but close enough that I’m still distracted by Greyson standing from his seat and sliding his jacket over his muscled arms and wide shoulders.

“Holyshit,that man is attractive,” Sita whisper-shouts instead of the calm I expected, making me laugh. “And not just here,” her palms hover around her face and body, “but in here, too,” she taps her forehead.

I meet her eyes. And laugh. Again. Because I know.I know.He’s kind of amazing. Maybe a little more than I’ve let on.

That sunshine that used to radiate from him shines even brighter now, somehow illuminating the space around him.

He’s light, and he’s warmth, and he’s drawn me into his orbit all night with his smile alone.

“My face is right here, drooly-pants,” Sita says, and her fingers grasp my chin, dragging my attention away from him and back to her.

“Sorry,” I say, and I mean it. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Yes. That.” She takes a deep breath, reigning herself—and the dozens of other comments I can see playing behind her eyes—in. “Okay. Now, listen to me,” she says. “You are not going home with Ricky.”

“I’m not?” I ask, amused.

“No! You’re not. This is Greyson we’re talking about.” Her entire demeanor shifts with that statement, going from lighthearted and playful to concerned and sincere. “Your Greyson. And he’s offered to drive you home. How often do these kinds of opportunities present themselves to us, Jess?

“You have your questions; I know you do. You’ve had them for a long time, and the answer to all of them is standing right there. Do not let this opportunity go.”

I know she’s right. I do.It’s just that I think I’m still too scared to hear the answers.Terrifiedof what some of them might be, really.

We’ve done an excellent job of keeping conversation light tonight, barely skimming along the surface. I’m not ready to dive deeper yet.

“The fact that he showed up at the gallery—and waitedhoursfor it to be over just to talk to you, says it all,” her words cut through my thoughts. “He’s clearly still into you, too.”

“I never said I was—”

“Oh, put a lid on it, would you? The sexual chemistry between you two is so palpable that evenIneed to go home and take a shower.” She shifts right back into her smartass self. Crazy, this one. In the best way.

“Right.” I hold back my smile.

“Let the man take you home, Jess,” she orders.

“Yes, ma’am,” I give in. Because I know I don’t want to go home with anyone else—regardless of what’s to come.

I wrap my arms around her and hold on for a while longer than I’d planned, taking in a deep, calming breath. “Thank you,” I say.

“Of course, babe. Good luck,” she whispers, and I swallow her parting words down like a shot of tequila, hoping they give me the courage I need.

Thirty-eight After

“NO WAY,” Isay under my breath as Greyson rounds the front of his car and pulls the passenger door open for me. It’s Lady.

Lady.

I feel almost as nostalgic for her as I do for this man in front of me.Almost.

“Thank you,” I say, smiling as I slip into the warmth of her embrace. She’s exactly like I remember her—clean leather, sharp lines, and smooth class. “I can’t believe you still have her,” I tell Greyson as he slides into his seat, his eyes immediately finding mine—a sea of green, warm and inviting. Addicting. The way it makes me feel to look into them more than anything.

He seems to take up more space than he used to, sucking the air from the car like it gravitates towards him, and I’m left with a minimal amount of oxygen left to breathe.

“Of course I still have her,” he says, jokingly offended as he turns the engine over, and I finally find my breaths. I fidget with my purse, slowly opening and closing the clasp on the front. “Lady and I are in it for the long haul.” He smiles, pulling away from the restaurant, away from the safety of surface questions and surface answers.

“Of course.” I smile back, trying not to dwell on that fact. “I didn’t mean to insult your one true love.” I laugh, but the wounded look that passes over his features quickly robs the sound from my lips. I’m not sure I even saw it. It was fleeting, there and gone too quick to be sure, but my heart still beats faster.