“Just a few more blocks.”

I run my hand up his thigh—all the way—until I feel just how much he’s affected by the simple touches between us. “That’s too bad.”

He leans in, whispering against my ear, “One hour, Ms. Fields.”

He presses his fingers between my legs. My breath hitches. I look up to see if the driver is watching, but he isn’t.

“One hour,” he repeats before pulling his hand away.

The car pulls up in front of a well-appointed brick building on Park Avenue. I wouldn’t be surprised if Wade owned the whole damn thing.

My knees are weak as I step onto the sidewalk, probably a mix of Pierce and needing to eat and who I might see once we’re inside. I hope Mallory is wrong because if she isn’t, I have no idea what I’m going to do. “These things make me kind of nervous,” I admit.

“Stay close to me, okay?”

I nod, letting him lead the way to Wade’s top floor penthouse.

WE’VE BEEN HERE FOR ten minutes, and I already want to evacuate. It’s a room full of people I don’t know … people who I feel are better than me. I’m a frog on a Lillie pad while everyone else in the room owns a pond.

When we first stepped inside, I scanned the room for any sign of him and was relieved that he was nowhere in sight. It wouldn’t be unlike him to not show for something like this.

I smile, walking through the room with Pierce as others greet him.

“Stanley, I haven’t seen you in ages. Where have you been?” It’s the fourth person who has stopped him since we walked in. I haven’t even made it to the appetizers yet.

He squeezes my hand. “I’ve been working on a few projects in the Midwest. You?”

“I just got back from Paris. Did a renovation on a nineteenth century.”

“That’s exciting,” Pierce states. I’ve learned the differences in his tone when he does and does not like someone; this is someone he’d rather pass by. “Royce, I’d like you to meet Lila Fields. She’s my new partner.”

“Nice to meet you,” Royce smiles, holding his hand out to me.

“Like wise,” I respond, dropping Pierce’s hand to accept Royce’s.

As they continue in conversation, my mind drifts off. My eyes scan the room, full of well-dressed men, many with beautiful women on their arms. A few of them look lost like me, but most own the room like professional socialites. This could never be my whole life, I think to myself.

And, as I continue scanning, I see him.

He’s here. The man who stole my soul is standing across the room with his back against the wall. My eyes are locked on him, but his eyes dance around the room like I’m not here. Maybe to him, I never was. Maybe he’s looking for the next one—the girl he’ll show the world to then disappear.

I look beside me—at Pierce—and I feel sick that any part of me even wants to go across the room. I feel sick because there’s a man here who I know could make me happy—who does make me happy—and yet I’m willing to throw it all away. He looks away from Royce, eyes instantly finding mine. He smiles, and I return it the best I can because for just a few more minutes, I need him to think that nothing has changed. And, maybe nothing has.

“I’m going to find the restroom,” I whisper to Pierce.

“I’ll come with you.”

Shaking my head, I say, “No, you stay. I’ll be right back.”

He nods, hesitantly, and I wait for him to turn his attention back to Royce before blazing a path through the crowd, anxious to prove to myself that this isn’t a dream.

The shield cracks.

My heart races.

His eyes still roam, taking in everything … everything but me.

I’m not going to let him out of my sight … I’m not going to let him hide from the anguish he’s buried me in the last several months. He has nowhere to run. Even if he did, I wouldn’t let him, not this time.

A few long strides and I’m standing in front of him, staring into those familiar pained eyes. When you love someone, it’s impossible to look at them and feel hate. You may want to feel it. You may think you feel it, but love and hate can’t co-exist. I hate that I love him, but I can’t hate him.

And, I want to hate him. It would make it easier to love someone like Pierce who deserves my heart. This man stole it months ago, and I don’t think he has any intention of returning it. Sometimes I don’t know if I want it back.

But then, I think of the last few days—few months actually—and I realize another man may be winning it back for me. Maybe it’s not gone forever but simply misplaced.

His hair is a little longer, but he’s the same. The way he stands … the way his fingers curl around a beer bottle. He’s exactly the same.

“Blake,” I whisper, afraid of what he’ll say, what he’ll do. Still afraid he’ll find a way to run away, and I won’t be able to catch him.

He stares at me like he’s never even met me, or maybe he’s spent the last several months trying to forget me. I can’t say I haven’t tried to do the same. There’s not enough alcohol in the world do erase him.

“Does he make you happy?” he finally asks, practically staring through me. He sounds so broken, so sad.

“Who?” I ask, caught off guard by his question.

“Pierce. Does he make you happy?”

My eyes well with tears I’ve left unshed … tears I left for him to see. “Yes,” I whisper, doing my best to hold them in. He deserves to watch every single one of them run down my cheek but not here … not now.

He nods, reaching his fingers up toward my cheek before quickly pulling them back away. And just as quickly as he came back into my life, he’s gone.

It’s really over.

If any part of him wanted me, he would have fought for me.

“There you are,” Pierce says, wrapping his strong hands around my shoulders. Through the corner of my eye, I see Blake standing in the doorway. He nods then disappears. He left for me this time instead of just leaving me, but there was so much I wanted to say.

I take a deep breath and pull myself together before Pierce has a chance to see my face. He’ll know I’m not okay. “Actually,” I groan, rubbing my fingertips against my temples, “can we head back to the hotel? I’m not feeling well all of a sudden.”

His warm hands run down my bare arms then slowly slide up again. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

“No,” I snap, shrugging his hands away. “I need to go back to the hotel. Now, please.”

He comes around to look at me, holding my face in his hands. I want him to hold on to me but for all the wrong reasons. I’m tired of falling for the wrong guy. I’m tired of being alone. Fifteen minutes ago, he was my guy.

He made me smile when I thought my face was paralyzed.

He brought in sun when all I saw was clouds.

Now, I just feel unsteady.

He leans in, his forehead resting against mine. Closing my eyes, I try to forget everything else. I try to pretend that everything is okay, but I’ve never been good at pretending. “What’s the matter, Lila?” he whispers, gently brushing his lips against mine while his hands circle my hips.

“I saw him.”

“Who?” he asks quietly, forehead still pressed to mine.

My heart stops, just for a second. I’m going to say his name, and it will be real. And Pierce will know it’s real. “Blake.”

His body stiffens. His fingers dig into my skin. “Where?”

“He was here, but I think he left. I only talked to him for a minute.”

His hands slide up to my stomach, holding me tighter. “What did he say?”

Those damn tears are threatening. “He asked me if I’m happy. That was it … he just wanted to know if I was happy.”

He inhales.

My heart aches no matter how much I tell myself everything is okay—that nothing has changed. It’s taken me so long to get to where I am, and now, I’m lost again. Torn between two worlds … new and old, perfect and damaged. That line between right and wrong faded a few minutes ago. I thought I knew what I wanted; confusion is a nagging little bitch.