“Ring in the New Year with me,” he said. “Brenna.”

He pulled me close to him, his hands sliding along the silk of my dress. He pulled me into his arms and put his lips on mine. And for a moment I felt them tremble with his uncertainty. That was sexier by far than any of his aggression or cocky assuredness. If he was always like that…well, I should be glad he wasn’t, because it would just complicate everything all over again. We kissed, softly, fully. I heard him make a noise between a grunt and a moan deep in his throat.

“Brenna,” he said again, then pulled away and smiled. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t know if he should or not. He opened his mouth again. “Happy New Year, Blix.”

I was positive that wasn’t what he wanted to say.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Happy New Year, Saxon. Shall we dance?”

We danced amid the still-cheering, laughing, kissing crowds, just two screw-ups, arms entwined, moving to a music no one else seemed to hear.

Chapter Ten

New Year’s Day was another holiday, so we didn’t really have much on our schedules. The entire floor was silent, everyone sleeping in after a late New Year’s Eve, and for some, sleeping off the inevitable hangover from too much celebrating. I was the lone exception to either scenario.

France is six hours ahead of New Jersey. Which meant that at six in the morning, Jake would be ringing in his New Year. In a few short days I managed to unravel everything good between the two of us, but I had learned some things, too. I wanted…I wanted him to know. Maybe I just wanted to hear his voice. I told myself over and over that he wasn’t going to just forgive me and ask me back, but a big part of me was hoping for exactly that.

At five thirty I was up, my eyes open and staring at the white, cracked ceiling above my bed. My stomach churned noisily, a combination of my intestines processing the cheese and champagne from last night and true, fretful nerves. The worst he could do was hang up on me. I tried to tell myself that it wouldn’t be that bad if he did, but I had an awful feeling that I would be crying in a little while.

I only had a few minutes to psych myself out. I wanted to call him before the official ball drop, just in case he had plans. To kiss. Someone else.

I sternly reminded myself that that was exactly what I had done the night before. I had no reason to play the hurt innocent. He could do whatever he wanted now. We were not a couple.

Because of me.

I dialed Jake, and another, worse possibility came to mind. What if he just never picked up? I was so desperate to talk to him that I was ten times more prepared for a confrontation than just nothing.

But he did pick up.

My voice stuck hard in my throat.

“Jake?” I finally burst out.

“Brenna.” He said my name evenly, his low, deep voice so good in my ears.

“I was calling to wish you a happy New Year.” My voice wobbled.

He blew out a long breath. “So you call to dump me a few days ago, and now you’re calling to wish me a happy New Year? There are a few choice things I’d like to say to you, but I’ll stop myself.”

“Don’t,” I rushed. “I deserve it, Jake. I deserve to hear whatever it is you have to say. Tell me.”

He sighed. “There’s no point, Bren. You and I are done. What is there to say?”

“Do you, um, regret that we’re broken up?” My nerves made my tongue thick and clumsy.

“How can I regret it, Bren? It wasn’t my decision.” He sounded irritated, and his prickly tone was so unexpected, I felt my eyes well up again. I hated that he was talking to me that way. He used to choose his tone so carefully when he said something to me. “How’s Saxon?” he asked, his voice thick with accusation.

“He’s alright.” I swallowed a wave of tears. “We’re not a couple.”

“Did you really think that would work out for you?” he sneered. “I can’t believe that. I know for a fact that you’re brilliant. That’s why this whole thing is so frigging confusing.”

I grabbed on to the one little compliment, the one glimmer that he was still interested in having me in his life. Plus being confused was good. It meant he didn’t know. It meant he was thinking with a big ‘maybe’ in his mind. “I’m coming home tomorrow.”

My statement hung in the air between us.

“I hope you have a safe flight.” His voice was perfectly serious because Jake was a perfect gentleman, and he would never, ever be nasty or vindictive the way so many guys would be. “I hope you had a nice New Year’s.” His voice was so cold I almost believed he could see my kiss with Saxon. “Bren, I have to go.”

I heard a voice in the background. Distinctly feminine.

Oh no.

“Okay. Goodbye Jake.”

He paused and covered the phone while he answered whoever it was. Then he breathed into the receiver. “Have a nice morning, Brenna. Happy New Year.”

The connection was broken and my mind went racing, reading into every little thing Jake said and left unsaid. He said I was brilliant, he said he wanted me to have a safe flight and a happy New Year’s. And I know he meant those things.

But he hadn’t said that he missed me. He hadn’t said that he wanted us to get back together. He had acted a little bit like my call was annoying him.

And that was fair. I was, in fact, just an ex-girlfriend calling for no real reason. He might even have had a date for New Year’s. I thought about the condom wrapper picture. Could Jake have already hooked up with someone as more than just revenge sex? Could he have another girlfriend?

That question was ridiculous. Jake was so gorgeous and sweet and a little bad, there was no reason to wonder whether or not girls would be lining up for a mile. I knew without a doubt that the ball was completely in his court. If he wanted a girlfriend, he could have his pick.

I paced the room a little, and realized that my body was telling me what my mind didn’t have a handle on; I needed to run. It was only a little after six, no one would be up for hours. I put on my running clothes and shoes, left a note for my mother, and started, my pace so crazy it would have made my cross country coach turn cartwheels. I ran past the rivers and parks and buildings of one of the most beautiful cities in the world, but all my eyes wanted to see was a gray-eyed boy with a crooked smile.

As I ran, I cried and didn’t bother to wipe away the tears or the gross amounts of snot that poured out along with those tears. I ran because if I didn’t expend some energy fast, I was going to go crazy.

My sad little heart thumped happily, pumping blood through my body in mad, crashing waves. My lungs worked like a bellows, and I got lightheaded from all the air I gulped in too fast. Coach Dunn had taught me all the techniques to maximize my energy and breathing and control my heart rate, and I knew I should double clutch now before I lost it entirely, but I couldn’t care less. I just wanted to run this aggression off. I made a wild circuit, and when I felt like I was running out of steam, I looked for the giant trees in the park Saxon and I walked through holding hands on our first night in Paris.

I just made it to a bench when I felt my muscles bunch and my breath slice in and out of my lungs, and I had to stop and double over. I couldn’t catch my breath.

I startled when I felt a large hand on my back. “There, there, Blix.” Saxon rubbed my back comfortingly despite the cheerfully mocking tone of his words. “You’ll be okay. Here, have some.”

It was bottled water. I chugged it, then looked at him with my puffy, red eyes and snot still under my nose and chapped lips. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“Because at six this morning it was New Year’s in New Jersey. Plus, this is the only park in Paris you know, so I figured your run would bring you through here eventually.” He wore dark aviator sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but would’ve bet they were laughing at me, even if his mouth was serious. Saxon sat next to me and stretched his arm behind my back. “You call him?”