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We’ve been spending more time together. Since she and Leni went to negotiate the deal on our equipment with Blaze, she’s stayed over at my condo twice, though she contended it was only because I let her have her preferred side of the bed.

The past few days, she’s been traveling, busting her ass to make up more ground on the Wild Fest fan vote list. She’s a powerhouse, and I dare anyone to try to keep her from something when she’s made up her mind.

I’ve been aching without her.

So, when she proposed our plans for this evening, it felt like a step forward.

“We’re going to a concert tonight,” I tell Leni as I shuffle through the papers on the desk, tossing the list of potential names in the recycling bin where it belongs. “Tyler Adams’s final show in Denver.”

Leni sighs. “Well, fuck. You are in love with her.”

I can’t stop the way my chest tightens at the word. “Because I’m taking a beautiful woman to a concert?”

“No, because you’re planning to wear those to do it.” Her smile fades. “Your final year of college, before your parents died, you were ready to walk away from the family business.”

“I was going to take my trust fund, move to some island, start a small tourist business to keep me busy, and never come back.”

It sounds foolish now. Not only because that life wouldn’t have sustained me, but because I was a naïve child who had no idea what the future held.

When my parents died, it hit me. The guilt. The emptiness. My responsibilities.

Now, I’m at the helm of a massive company. One that will expand until I crush the man who took this business and made it the kind of personal he can never take back.

“I’m still glad to see you doing something like this,” Leni goes on, nodding toward me. “Even if those clothes will melt off your skin.”

I shift out of my seat and cross to the door, lifting the garment bag off the hook on the back. “I’m not the devil, just a man who likes suits,” I gripe.

But Leni’s right. This matters even more than I figured. To Raegan and me, but also because the world will see us.

After our date on the beach with tacos, my PR firm emailed a number of photographs paparazzi took of the two of us.

I told them to buy the images. I didn’t want anything scaring Reagan off when I was trying to convince her to spend time with me.

Now, I feel my pocket for the outline beneath. The box burns a hole in my clothing.

Soon enough, everyone will know what she means to me.

“Leni.” I pause halfway out the door. “Have security lined up for Raegan. Starting tomorrow.”

15

RAE

Rae: Sorry, traffic’s a bitch. Be there in 15. Save me some whisky.

I’m late to meet Harrison at LAX to fly to Denver for Tyler’s concert.

Harrison’s going to be pissed. I get that it’s a private plane and he won’t be leaving without me, but still. He’s used to things running a certain way, and he was the one who insisted on providing the transportation when I asked him about tonight.

So, when he texts me a picture of a drink, I nearly drop my phone.

Harrison: No promises. :)

Rae: Did you just smiley-face me? Who the fuck are you?

The limo pulls right up to the runway when I arrive, and I shift out with a single bag in tow. My boots click on the metal steps, echoing off the body of the plane. In the distance, others land and take off, but this section of LAX is quiet.

“Traffic was murder…” I say as I step into the private plane.