the cast and crew door’s lock when a shadow fell over her from behind.
She managed to swallow a shriek—just barely—and swung around, pepper spray at the ready.
“What—” The words died in her throat when she recognized the man standing there, and for a moment she simply couldn’t get her mind to work properly.
“V-Vivien?” The man standing there—the very familiar, selfish, immature dickwad she’d known eleven years ago at NYU—sounded just as gobsmacked as she felt.
“Jake.” In her shock, she’d dropped the stupid key, but the can of pepper spray felt damned solid in her hand. She didn’t bother to lower it as she lifted her chin and sneered. “I, uh, didn’t know you were in town.”
Understatement of the year. Like, what was he even doing in the state, let alone Wicks Hollow?
“Likewise.” He looked pointedly at the metal canister in her hand. “You, uh, going to use that?”
“I’m thinking about it,” she replied, but lowered her hand.
“Still holding a grudge eleven years later, are you?” he said in that maddeningly calm voice that she used to find wildly sexy on the telephone. Back when she was young and foolish and easily swayed by such things.
“Still lurking about trying to get lucky, are you?” she retorted, itching to raise the canister again. Why oh why did he of all people have to be here? Right now?
And how?
He snorted and planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t have to slink around to—as you put it—get lucky.”
His words were offhand and filled with bravado, but he was definitely checking her out, sweeping over her with his dark eyes.
She couldn’t help but do the same. Elwood DeRiccio, the bastard, looked just as good—better, dammit—than he had the last time she’d seen him. He was dressed in tight black running shorts (just kill me now) and his dusky olive skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, indicating he’d been in the process of actually putting the shorts and his Nikes to use. Fortunately for her hormones and their apparently eidetic memory, he wasn’t shirtless but was wearing an athletic top—but that modesty didn’t matter all that much, because its stretchy, shiny material clung to shoulders that seemed to have grown broader in the last decade. His walnut-colored hair was just long enough that he’d pulled it back into a ponytail to keep it out of his face, and his legs…well, it was obvious he was no stranger to regular exercise.
Though he didn’t have overtly handsome features—his nose was a little too big and his jaw a tad too square—Jake was still attractive to women, as Vivien well knew—and not just because he was a doctor. At least, she assumed he was a doctor, since the last time they spoke they’d broken up because he’d decided to do his residency five hundred miles away from New York.
She still couldn’t believe he was standing there in front of her. It was just so completely random. And shocking. Maybe whatever happened in the theater was still happening…some weird, surreal anxiety attack…?
But why would she imagine Jake DeRiccio, of all people?
Maybe a vacation? His parents lived in Grand Rapids, after all…but that was over an hour away.
“Is everything all right?” he asked once he’d finished that arrogant sweep of eyes over her.
“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” If she asked what he was doing here, it might sound like she cared. Which she didn’t.
He tilted his head and looked at her. “Because when I was going by, I saw you running to your car like a bat out of hell was chasing you, and then you sat there for a few minutes, and now you seem to be…uh…having trouble getting inside this building.”
Oh, great. Not only had there been a witness to her flight, but it just had to be an old flame. Wow. Thanks a lot, Universe.
“You just happened to be standing around watching me while I sat in my car?” she snapped. “Really?”
“No, Vivien,” he replied ever so reasonably. “I was running by and saw you tear out the door here and practically leap into your car, and then on my way back from the end of the road just now, I saw that you hadn’t left and instead were getting out of the car and seemed to be trying to find a way inside the theater here.”
By now, any normal person would have taken the hint that everything was fine and that he should move on. Especially since he’d moved on eleven years