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Tentatively I flex and extend my wrist and wiggle my fingers, and… it hurts. A lot. Especially my wrist. I wince and try to stifle my whimper. A sprain could feel like this. I don’t have time for anything else but a minor sprain, so that’s all this is allowed to be. “I’m fine. Promise.”

He holds me against his chest, gently rocking as if to comfort me and take away some of the pain. It’s annoyingly splendid. Especially since he’s warm and smells like clean laundry, citrus, and cedar.

“I’m not quite sure I believe you.”

I’m not quite sure I believe me either.

“How long have you been here? I didn’t even know you were back in Boston,” I deflect, still jarred by both the pain in my wrist and the fact that Loomis Powell is wearing a disguise and holding me in the middle of the sidewalk. I assumed he stayed in London with his family through the holidays after he finishedfilming the movie he was working on with Tinsley Monroe, who is one of my best friends.

Honestly, I tried not to pay attention to where he was or what he was doing. I was dating Alden at the time, and things were great with us. And thinking about Loomis Freaking Powell never got me anywhere I wanted to be.

He’s a British actor I more than swooned over and celebrity stalked a bit the way all girls do when they’re young—okay, maybe I was in my mid-twenties, but still. Then I met him in person through Tinsley since they’re BFFs, and thatstarstruck feeling, he’s not a real human, just a celebrity on screen, turned into an actual crush.

Because he’s great. Truly great.

Except he never saw me as anything more than Tinsley’s friend.

I haven’t talked to Loomis in months. Not since I went out to LA in August for a conference and visited him. He was quiet and distant with me, and my girlish crush was squashed when nothing happened between us, and he showed zero interest in changing that.

Which is fine. Better really, since he lives in either LA or London and I’m a working doctor who lives in Boston. It was a stupid celebrity crush anyway.

“I’m not here,” he quips, though there’s something serious behind his eyes as he says, “You didn’t see me.”

I extricate myself from his arms, and heavy silence settles between us. His eyes graze over the lines of my face, and my heart gives a familiar thump, but I quickly push it away. All our playfulness from seconds ago is gone and now it’s just… awkward.

“I should get going,” he says quietly after a minute, his eyes still on me.

“Same. I have to get to the grocery store. I’m cooking for Kenna tonight.” Though we’ll see how I manage that with this wrist throbbing like crazy.

“Right then. I’ll let you get to it since I’m freezing my bollocks off, and I imagine you are too. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“If you’re not here, how will I see you around?”

His lips twitch. “Good question. Maybe we’ll run into each other again. If you recognize me, that is. I do a fantastic American accent,” he finishes in said accent.

I tilt my head and wrap my arms around my chest to ward off the cold. “No kidding, given the disguise. What’s all this about?” I wave my hand around his face before I return it to my ribs. I’ve never seen him do this, and he’s been here in Boston and gone out in public enough times for me to know this is different.

His expression turns rueful. “My life’s a bit of a mess at the moment, but that’s a story for another time.” He checks his watch. “I’m late to meet someone. I’ll ring you, yeah?”

I shrug. “I guess. Sure.”

He smirks. “You guess? Sure? Ringing endorsement there. Or is this because you’ve now got a boyfriend and are too boss for your former mates?”

“How did you hear about Alden?” I ask only to mentally doink my forehead. From Tinsley, of course. “We’re not together anymore.”

“You broke up?” That gets his attention. “When?”

“A week ago.”

He visibly mulls that over, his expression unreadable, though I swear his lips bounce into the smallest of smiles before it’s just as quickly gone. He cups my face, his thumb grazing my jaw, and an involuntary shudder rattles through me.

“I’m sorry, darling. Has it been rough for you? Should I find the bastard and kill him? I will. Happily.”

Before I can answer, a voice comes from behind me. “Keegan?”

I spin around, protectively holding my wounded wing up against my chest, and come face-to-face with Alden as if he was conjured straight from my thoughts. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

“Hi,” I squeak before my expression sours. I don’t want to see him.