her in for a kiss. She smiled as their lips made contact and immediately Troy deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue with his. For just a moment, they were nothing but lips, tongues, and roaming hands, until Troy pulled back, breathing heavily and pressing his forehead to hers.
“Wanna get outta here?”
“Yes.”
They’d walked arm in arm back to Troy’s apartment, his hand resting protectively over hers as they made their way down the block.
They made love for the second time. And the next morning, Elle didn’t run. She stayed, and for three hundred and sixty-four days, they were completely smitten. Until they went to Vegas. And everything fell apart.
Tears streamed down Elle’s face as she lay in silence in her bedroom. Linus snuggled into her side, attempting to comfort her. But nothing could. Troy was the most significant regret of her life. She cried for their mistakes, for their separation, and for the time they’d lost. But mostly, she cried for the contented moments like the one they spent walking from John Barleycorn’s to Troy’s apartment. The night she was given a fresh start with the only guy who’d ever captured her heart. She cried for the hope that took up residence in her heart that evening, and for the hope that still remained after so much time.
Elle crashed into Luke’s dressing room with a ferocity she hadn’t expected. Justine, the makeup artist, looked up from her canvas with a start, still clutching her bottle of concealer. Her eyes were wide and she stepped back from Luke, who turned his body to face Elle. It was seven fifteen in the morning, with less than an hour before he was needed on set. But for Elle, this couldn’t wait. Not even a moment longer.
“Elle, what the hell is going on?”
Elle’s nostrils flared as she stalked toward Luke. Her eyes never left his, even as she addressed the makeup artist. “Justine, will you excuse us, please?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be back in five minutes.” Justine placed her concealer and sponges on Luke’s dressing table and scurried from the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Luke stood, tearing the paper bib from his collar. “What’s going on?”
“This.” Elle shoved her iPad into Luke’s hands.
“Perez Hilton? Who is that?”
“Gossip site, like TMZ. Explain the pictures, Luke.”
Luke’s eyes closed and his head tilted up toward the ceiling. “It was late, we’d had a few drinks. It was nothing.”
Elle scrolled through her iPad, revealing a dozen shots of Luke with Gina at a local bar. Luke’s arm was wrapped around her waist, his nose nuzzled into her ear. To Elle, they appeared awfully friendly. Too friendly.
“Listen, I know we aren’t exclusive. That’s not what this is about.”
Luke crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Then what’s it about?”
“Gina. With Gina comes drama, rumors, gossip rags. Everything I try to stay away from and you know that.”
“I’m not seeing her.”
“Coulda fooled me.” Elle pursed her lips. “Listen, if you want to end this, just say so. Date Gina, date whomever you choose. Just leave me out of the bullshit.”
“Says the woman who can’t stop thinking about her ex.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Elle froze, uncertain of what she could say in rebuttal. Luke was right. Since their first encounter with Troy weeks earlier, she’d been different, distracted. Her heart and her mind were muddled and confused. And that was her fault, not Luke’s. She was being unfair. She knew that, but she had enough confusion weighing her down; the idea of having to deal with Gina’s dramatics was just too much to handle.
“Look, I’m sorry, I just—” She waved her iPad. “You know this stuff drives me crazy. It pulls my focus, and I can’t have that.”
Luke closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m not interested in Gina. Yes, I was being friendly, and it was loud in the bar so when I talked to her, I leaned in. That’s all these photos show.”
Elle tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at Luke. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“My lips never touched hers. If they had, don’t you think Paris Hilton would have put that on her blog?”
Elle allowed a laugh to escape her lips. “Perez. Perez Hilton.”
Luke chuckled, pulling his lips into a playful smirk. “What did I say?”
“Paris. As in the hotel magnate’s daughter. The one who eats gigantic cheeseburgers while washing cars.”
“Ah, that’s right.” Luke pulled Elle in close, tickling her ear with his lips. “C’mon. You know me. Nothing happened.”