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her key, she took several deep breaths
before opening her door, although she wasn’t sure it was wise, for
his scent ran roughshod over her. He entered after her, and she
barely refrained from snarking at him.
    This was her sanctuary. A place his memory and ghosts
hadn’t any foothold on her. Until now. Until he walked over that
threshold. In seconds, his imprint was all over her home. This
isn’t fair; it’s just not fucking fair.
    “Sit. I’ll be right back.”
    She didn’t wait to see if he listened, just hoofed it
to her room. After embarking on a swift shower, she dried off and
tugged on her work clothes. The professional attire would act as
another layer of protection for her. Hopefully.
    The scent of coffee filled the air, and she groaned
in anticipation. She walked by him, still seated in her living
room, and fixed herself a mug. After a moment, she made one for
him, as well.
    “So talk,” she ordered, setting the mug within his
reach before retreating to the other side of the coffee table and
taking a seat there.
    “Since you called me Alton, I take it you know where
I’ve been.”
    She blinked at him.
    “Okay,” he said. “The thing is, now, I’m in a big
movie, and if it does as well as we’re hoping, people will be
digging for stuff about my past.”
    She narrowed her gaze slightly but continued to sip
her coffee.
    “I wanted you to have a head’s up in case some
reporters come here asking about our past relationship.” He drank
some coffee before peering directly at the mug then her.
    “I didn’t poison it.”
    “I know. I was thinking you made it exactly the way I
love my coffee. You remembered.”
    Something private and special passed between them.
The hitch in his tone nearly got to her. Somehow, she stayed on her
path and didn’t allow herself to be deviated. “What does you making
it big have to do with me and my life?”
    “They may come and ask you questions about us. About
our past.”
    She placed her mug down, incredulous. “And, what, you
think that a bunch of strangers asking me questions will be harder
to face than you hightailing it out of town, leaving me, your fiancée, behind without a word? Did you think holding my
head up and looking the people in this town in the eye was easy?
Why the fuck would I give a damn what a bunch of nosy ass reporters
think of me, or your fans ? I have already walked barefoot
through hell, and trust me—Alton Rivers or Brody Paget, whichever
goddamn motherfucking name you want to be addressed by—nothing your
paparazzi can throw at me would ever be worse than what I
faced here. Alone.”
    She wanted to punch the wall. Anger coursed through
her. She tried to calm down. She failed.
    “You know what?” she began again. “I’m sure it was
just guilt that brought you back here. Why the fuck would they even
ask about me? I doubt you’ve been telling your caviar and champagne
friends—crowd, I don’t even know, or care, if you have friends in
that cesspool out there of plastic surgery, fake smiles, and
diamonds—you were once engaged to a girl in a hick town. Don’t you
dare come here to appease your conscience when you don’t even have
the Goddamn decency to apologize for bolting on me. Get out!”
    She shoved to her feet and stalked back to the
kitchen, entire body shaking with the amount of raw emotion pouring
through her.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Ten years too late.” She forced herself to meet his
gaze. “Go peddle your apology somewhere else.”
    Instead of leaving, he neared her. She hated how she
still physically reacted to him. He stopped five feet away from
her, crossing his arms. She stared at the watch on his wrist. Her
heart lurched. It was the one she’d given him once they’d gotten
engaged. Why would he still have that? Surely, he can afford
something more expensive.
    “Let me explain.”
    Lifting her chin, she shook her head. “No. You don’t
get to decide, after all these years, you want to come demand I
listen to