Not wasting time, he said, “You didn’t come back. You said you would.”

Then she disappeared again…

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, adding him to the long list of people she felt she had disappointed. “I would’ve if I could.”

“Why couldn’t you?”

Her hand slipped from his and she walked to the window, the other side covered in battering drops of rain. “Does it matter?” She pressed her hand to the glass, feeling the cold, feeling the pressure of heavy droplets hitting it. “You and Clara seem close.”

“Looks are deceiving.”

“I guess,” she replied, her expression lackluster. She shrugged ever so slightly.

“Don’t do that! Don’t act like that week didn’t matter, like I didn’t matter.” Anger was taking over despite his best efforts to remain calm around her. His hurt had morphed and this was what he was left with. “Everything about you makes sense now. That’s not you at all. My parents don’t even recognize you from that night. You look different and you’re acting differently. Where’s your beautiful chaos? Where’s the wrinkled sundress and the snow boots? You’re not the girl who unapologetically crashed both a party and right into my world.” He looked at her and said, “Tonight, you’re stunning, but I don’t recognize the woman standing before me at all.”

Desperately wanting to find that girl as much as he did, she whirled around to face him. Her smile was gone when she realized her skirt was fitted and wouldn’t twirl. “This is how everyone wants me to be. Am I not perfect? Am I not prim? Or proper? Presentable?”

“You’re all those things, but you don’t get it. Where is the girl I met?” He went to her, got as close as he could while holding back so he wouldn’t touch her. He was weak for her and he needed to be strong. “Where’s the girl who double dips and cooks in the middle of the night? I want her back.”

Becoming frustrated, he had finally set her off. “So do I, but that’s just too bad, Taylor!”

“Don’t call me that, Judith!” He raised his voice right back at her. “Speaking of, I thought you said your family called you Jude. Everyone in there calls you Judith.”

She was insistent. “My real family does.”

“You make no sense. You’re fucking crazy. I should have gotten the hint at the last party.”

She grit her teeth as she stared at him. She became a woman possessed. Maybe obsessed was at the root of her affections, her anger toward and for him. “Don’t call me crazy.”

Her reaction took him aback. The colloquial phrase had slipped from his tongue with no thought behind it and he looked at her, really looked at her. Then he said with his hands up, “Calm down. We need to return in a minute and I don’t want to explain how well we know each other. Not to any of them.”

Offended, Jude turned on her heel and walked to the door. “No explanation necessary. To your parents, we’ve known each other forever. Wasn’t that what you said? ‘Feels like our whole lives’? For everyone else, we met tonight for the first time.” Her voice was cold, matter-of-fact.

Nope, not the Jude he recognized at all.

Walking out, she went into the bathroom across the hall and locked the door. A light knock on the other side caused her to take a step back from the door. His voice permeated the enclosed room, like it permeated her chest. “Jude?” he said so softly she barely heard. “I didn’t mean what you think. I just meant I don’t want to share what we had… what we are with them.”

“What are we?”

“Lost.”

“It’s best to cut ties now then. Save ourselves the trouble.” Save our hearts any more pain. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, refusing to cry over him. She leaned her head against the inside of the door, closed her eyes, and said, “Don’t worry, Taylor. Our secret is safe.” But my heart never stood a chance.

TAYLOR SAT AT the table, mindful of the worthless conversation that surrounded him, included him, and angered him. His foot was tapping uncontrollably as he waited and waited for Jude to return. Clara reached over, put her hand on his knee, and whispered, “Stop. We can hear you.”

He pushed back from the table, and away from her. He couldn’t sit there any longer, across from the empty chair. He didn’t care what people thought. He needed to find Jude. He was about to stand up when she entered from the main hall. A smile was placed on her face, her eyes blank as she made her apologies. A small, wet circle on her ribs drew everyone’s attention to her dress. No food. No stain. An acceptable cover.

Mrs. Stevens said, “I’ve got a great dry cleaner if you need a reference. They will make your dress look new again.”

Jude quietly replied, “Thank you,” and went to her chair.

Taylor stood. His fingers pressing so hard against the wood the tips whitened.

Rufus eyed Taylor and stood up as well, buttoning his jacket as he did. The dinner guests watched the two men. Their competitive stance was obvious to everyone except the girl they were competing for.

Jude kept her eyes on the full wine glass at her place, but before she had a chance to sit, Rufus walked around and said, “We’re done in here. Would you like to join me in the conservatory, Judith?” His proffered arm hung in the air between them. Seconds ticked by as her gaze drifted over the antique lace covered banquet table and up the navy blue pinstriped suit to eyes on fire, eyes that burned for her, eyes that scorched her from the inside out.

She knew it was pointless, but she tried to steal her heart back and slipped her arm around Rufus’s. She was escorted from the dining room and down the hall with the adults continuing to the library and the kids following their lead into the glass room where she’d just been.

With an unflinching glare, Taylor bore holes into the back of Rufus’s head. Then turned his attention to the woman who walked in front of him. His gaze flowed down the curve of her neck and over her back. He wanted to caress her bottom while bending her over and fucking her until she called out “Hazel” at the top of her lungs. He wanted to melt into her heat, into her mouth, into her world again.

His arm was pulled and he looked at Clara who signaled toward the stairs. “I want to cash in that rain check.”

“It’s still raining.” He pulled his arm away and followed Jude into the conservatory.

“Taylor!” she screeched.

He ignored her.

The lights were turned on. Music filled the large room and Taylor walked to the bar and made himself another drink. He’ll feel like shit in the morning, but he didn’t care anymore. Morning had no significance when tonight was saddled with this much turmoil. Clara slithered up to him. “What is going on with you tonight? You’re not acting like yourself.”

“That’s good, right?”

From across the room, Isla’s laughter broke the tension and Taylor looked over at Jude, who was watching him. Taylor’s gaze skimmed down her arm to where Rufus was touching the inner part of her forearm, the same place where Taylor had touched her that first night, had tasted her at his place, had licked her sweet sweat.

Clara draped herself on his shoulder and poked him, the wine going to her head. “This is so boring. Let’s get out of here, Tay.”

His eyes never deviated from Jude who he watched leave Rufus and Isla to stand at the window. She stared out into the garden that was now lit up, and wordlessly he joined her, standing so close his chest pressed against her back. Her eyes met his in the reflection. She wanted to say so much, to tell him everything that had happened. But as the pink pill wore off, she started seeing the pain in his eyes, and the damage she had done.

Barely moving his lips, he whispered, “I need to see you.”