“And then I told Luce everything so she’d be ready for the bomb to drop,” I added, telling Ellie the rest. “Sorry, I suck at keeping secrets. If you want to beat my ass, I’ll let you have few free shots.”

“So everyone knows? Fantastic,” Ellie muttered. “And I’ll take a rain check on beating your ass.”

“Cool,” I added, turning my attention to Nate for the first time. We were leaving him out of the conversation, and despite everything else going on, I wanted to include him. Ellie had never once shown this much interested in anyone—male or female—so after sharing all her secrets, this was the least I could do. “What I want to know is why Nate West has suddenly joined the party?” I asked him, keeping the conversation light. “Because I have a hunch that this is typical ‘Ellie’ behavior. Less than twenty-four hours in LA and she’s already befriended a celebrity. This is crazier than the time she made friends with Homeless Man Todd. So how did she rope you in, man?”

“Homeless Man Todd?” Nate asked.

“Yeah,” I answered. “He’s this local that randomly sleeps out on the beach by the bar where I work. Has been doing this on occasion for years. Come to find out, he’s not homeless or a drunk like we all thought, just a man who likes to sleep in the sand sometimes. It’s the oddest thing. Anyway, Ellie made nice with him one night, stayed out there with him until the sun came up. Which meant Noah and I had to hang around too to make sure he wasn’t some serial killer about to chop her up. Turns out he’s just a man who misses his wife and the beach reminds him of her. So I gotta give Ellie her credit, when she wants she can make nice with just about anyone.”

“Ellie and I met on the plane yesterday,” he explained. “And then Ben…well, I suppose he’s my neighbor. He’s living with Carrie Stone—she’s the wife of the late Joey Stone, a director. She lives two houses down the beach from me in Malibu. Coincidently enough, Ellie and I met again this morning. Small world, I guess.”

“So you know Ben?” Sydney asked, breathing deeply. “How is he? Is he good?”

These questions that Sydney asked were desperate. In all the time I’d known her, I’d never heard her ask something with so much heart behind it. And I sat back in my seat with sudden annoyance. As star struck as I’d momentarily been with Nate West, I no longer cared about him or the rest of this conversation. Sydney and I had been on shaky ground all morning…but still, some part of me hoped that that was more my fault and less about Ben. And now the fucking truth had come out. She loved Ben.

Just like she’d used me the first time, last night had been more of the same. I couldn’t sit here with her, with the others, for a single second longer, playing nice and pretending I wasn’t heartbroken. Without saying anything, I stood and left.

The emotions that coursed through me as I walked were worse than the day I broke my arm and knew I’d never make it to my dream of playing baseball professionally. The hotel lobby was a blur, and my steps shaky. I shouldn’t have come on this trip. This explained everything. The way I was with women, this right here was why. Never again would I let emotions into sex.

“Rhett! Wait!”

My heart squeezed in my chest as a familiar voice called out my name. Without looking behind me, I knew it was Sydney. She’d followed me, and she sounded heated. But I didn’t have the energy to talk to her, or even look at her right this moment. Making it around a corner, blatantly ignoring her, I took an exit outside. The moment I hit fresh air, I sucked in a giant breath. I might have felt relief, but I knew Sydney was right behind me.

I leaned against the side of the building. Waiting. Waiting for the storm.

A second later she came rushing outside. The door flew open with a hell of a lot of force. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wild and fierce, and her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as she set her attention on me. “Did you not hear me calling?” she snapped.

“Yes,” I said calmly, keeping my voice low. “I heard you.” No matter what, I wasn’t going to let her see how much she’d hurt me. So I remained indifferent, despite the way she was looking at me.

“And you purposely ignored me?” she demanded.

“Yes.”

“Fuck you,” she uttered. “I mention Ben’s name once and that’s your reaction?”

She’d never cursed like that in front of me. I didn’t like it. It tore at something inside me but whatever it was, I ignored it. “Let’s just go back inside. I’m tired and don’t have it in me for this sort of argument right now. Somebody wore me out last night. And frankly, princess, I’m sick to death of hearing that kid’s fucking name.”

She narrowed her pretty eyes at me. “So this is about Ben?”

Whether I wanted it or not, it seemed this argument was happening anyway. So much for staying calm. “It’s always been about Ben. Hasn’t it? I mean…that was the whole reason you slept with me in the first place. A one-night stand to get over the guy you loved, right? And now that he’s alive—I won’t be the replacement, only good enough for the time being, until you can finally get back to your ‘real thing.’ I heard it in your voice when you asked about him a second ago. I could hear how much you still care for him. So I’m done. Sydney, seriously, I’m done. I’m done trying to reach for something unobtainable with you. I’m the guy who likes to fuck and have a good time. This whole time I’ve been trying to be something I’m not. I’m ready to go back to being that other guy.”

There were tears and loathing in her eyes. “So, just like that, it’s over between us?”

“There was never an ‘us’ in the first place. And you know that. The sex was good but, really, beyond that, what did we even have?”

When she hesitated to answer, I knew I was right. Hoping to be with her was about as useless as hoping my cover band might actually amount to something someday.

“Come on,” I said, moving around her for the door. “We should go inside. The others are probably wondering where we went.” I grabbed the door handle, yanking open my exit.

But before I could go inside, with my back to her now, she whispered something.

One word. Eight letters. Two syllables.

“Bullshit.”

I froze.

“That is such bullshit and you know it.”

Sometimes it was scary how she could see right through my crap. Like right this moment. “Don’t,” I warned her, unable to turn around but also unable to keep walking forward. “Don’t go there unless…unless…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. Unless she meant it. Unless she wanted me instead. My hand on the door started to tremble. It was a breezy, cool November day in California. But suddenly the world around me felt like fire and lava.

“Unless what?” she uttered.

“Unless you mean it,” I finished.

“What if I mean it?”

I groaned. Because she knew exactly how to torture, maim, and kill me. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

“If you don’t then go ahead…walk away…end this.”

For the life of me, I could not take that second step inside the building. The edge I’d had in the conversation a second ago, I’d lost it when clearly she knew everything I was saying to her was complete shit. I wanted it to be true, I wanted to believe that I could walk away from her without looking back, but I just…couldn’t. And losing that edge, it now felt like she had her hand tightly around my heart. One squeeze and I would break.

“You are so annoying,” she told me. “You know that, right?”

“Thanks,” I said sarcastically. “I’ve never heard that one from a woman before.”

This growl left her lips. Literally, she growled. Then she started hollering at me. “Don’t you get it, Rhett?!” I turned around to find her pacing, a little frantically, in front of me and tugging at her long hair. That passionate, fiery, hot-as-hell side she liked to keep hidden away, the side that I was starting to get to know very well during sex, had broken free. “I choose you,” she hollered at me. “Of course I still care for Ben. Some part of me is always going to care for him. Maybe I loved him. Or maybe I thought I did. But none of that matters because losing whatever this is—” She gestured between our bodies. “This…weird, annoying, frustrating thing we have…losing whatever it is scares me more than anything. The first time we were together, I’ll admit, that was only about sex. But last night, that was real. If you want to go…fine. If you’re still the guy who likes ‘to fuck and have a good time’…fine. If you don’t want me…fine. But don’t stand there thinking I’m not completely and hopelessly, one-hundred and ten percent, drowning in the deep end with you. Meanwhile, all you can do is stand there doubting me. And—”