“Would you like me not to?”

That seemed to flummox him for a moment. “I think I like you,” he said.

“Enough to keep my name out of the story?”

“Probably not that much,” he admitted, his brown eyes blinking like fish behind the lenses of his glasses. “Besides, it’s my editor who makes the final call, not me.”

“Do you enjoy what you do?” I asked.

He smirked. “Are you always this direct?”

“I try to be. So do you?”

“I don’t think I’ve met anyone quite like you in the course of my job before.”

“I could say the same. But you still didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m supposed to be asking you questions.”

“So ask. I may not answer, but I won’t lie.” My virtue or my downfall, I never knew.

He’d furrowed his brow. “I’m recording you, is that okay?”

I looked at the cell phone lying on the bar top. “Something tells me you don’t usually ask permission.”

He laughed, revealing tobacco stained teeth. “Okay. Are you having an affair with Jack Eversea?”

“No,” I said. Then at his frown, and because I’d already seen the proposed article and knew there was no way to hide it, I admitted, “But I am having a relationship with him.”

He smiled, a slow smile, like a cat. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s all I needed.” Tom Price slid his cell phone off the bar and stood. “I’m going to tell you this, Keri Ann Butler, because you seem like one of the good ones … and I can see why he likes you.”

I swallowed. Something told me I’d just royally messed up.

“What?”

“If you hang around with the Jack Everseas of the world, don’t speak to people like me. Ever. And, don’t expect to be known for anything other than the attention he chooses to give you. When he’s done with you, you will cease to exist, for him and for everyone else.”

Shells and gravel crunched behind me and I heard Jack clear his throat. His mere presence passed a current through me. I’d missed him, not having seen him since we got back from our secluded island getaway and been faced with our first major hurdle. A hurdle I felt like we’d both failed to clear.

His warm fingers curled through mine, and I squeezed them. I smiled in spite of my grim mood.

Jack turned me to face him, hands on my shoulders. His dark brown hair was messy, like he’d been tugging on it or sleeping under a pillow.

My fingers itched to slide through the glossy locks and pull his rugged face and full lips down to mine.

His eyes roamed my face, and he must have had the same thought, because we both moved into each other, our lips meeting, the relief of touching him gliding through me in a ripple of longing. “Good morning,” I managed through kisses.

“I missed you,” he breathed.

Jack’s arms roamed by back and I pressed against him, curling my body against his larger frame. Seeking comfort. “Me, too.”

“God, I’m sorry I reacted so badly yesterday morning when we found out. I felt like I’d failed you, I did fail you, and I couldn’t bear to see how upset you were.”

“I’m sorry too, Jack. And I’m sorry Audrey keeps trying to hurt you.”

“She’s the last person on my mind, trust me. It’s you I’m worried about. And how this affects us.”

We hugged for a few moments. Then I pulled back to look at him seriously. He seemed about to say something else.

“I don’t want you to come to the art opening party, Jack.” I spoke in a rush, before I chickened out, before he said something to change my mind. I steeled my nerves. I was probably going to say this all wrong. “I just don’t want you there—”

He flinched.

Shit. “And now after … this story, after Ashley even … if they see me with you, people will think the worst of me.” I wish I didn’t sound so childish and petty. So selfish and uncaring. It was so out of character for me, and I knew it.

“No they won’t. Because I’ll tell them you’re my girlfriend.”

My eyes stung with tears. “I already did. I admitted to Tom Price we were having a relationship. I probably wasn’t supposed to do that from the way he acted. I guess you didn’t confirm it for him.”

“I didn’t, I never do.” Jack shook his head. “But it doesn’t matter. Don’t let him get to you.”

“You may be used to this circus,” I swiped at my eyes, thinking about Tom Price’s words and how they cut right to my fear of being just Jack’s girlfriend, “and ignoring what people say about you, but I’m not. You said you would try and keep me out of the madness. How does showing up to an event with me fit into that? I’m so nervous about the event anyway. There are people from SCAD coming, and maybe some press. I don’t want to be worrying about what people are thinking.” Then the more sordid aspect made me shudder. “And if I’m supposedly your girlfriend, what will people think you were doing with Ashley? Especially if Audrey’s story hits.” I thought of England. “Especially with your reputation. I’ll just be the next one in a long line.”

“My reputation?” Jack swallowed. “Yeah, I guess I deserved that. But you know, Keri Ann, there’s always going to be an Ashley. Someone saying they know me, or did something with me or whatever. Please. Please be strong enough to choose us over this.”

He was right. “I want to Jack, I’m going to try to be strong enough to deal with that. But as it stands you’re asking me to give up my own identity, one that I’m only just discovering. My mother did it for my father, and excuse the cliché, but she lived a life of quiet desperation. That’s what Joey sees for me with you, and I understand now. That’s what you’re asking of me. To never be recognized as my own person, always to be talked about in reference to you.”

He grabbed my shoulders. “Even if people talk, it won’t last forever. At least not with the same intensity. I know I promised to keep us secret, but I’m no longer in control, thanks to Audrey.”

Panic washed over me.

“It’s going to be impossible actually. I wish—”

“What?” I hiccupped a sob. “So you just want to go on business as usual and stick me in the slot of Jack Eversea’s latest romantic interlude? Since your next movie is filming here, how convenient you have a local girl all lined up to take care of your lonely nights. And bonus, she gets to cash in on your fame to get some publicity.” I breathed out roughly, already regretting my words and the bitterness in my voice. The way I’d just reduced the amazing thing we had between us to a cheap and shallow anecdote. I didn’t need a tabloid to do it, I’d just done it myself.

Jack’s eyes were dark.

“God, I’m sorry,” I said, and wiped my eyes. “I’m so sorry. You know that’s not how I feel about us.”

“I don’t think I really do know. I know that you’re scared.” He shoved a hand bleakly through his hair. “I wish you weren’t afraid to be with me.” His eyes settled on mine, and he looked so sad. “People use me all the time. They use my name and my status for everything. Being seen with me, wanting me to use or wear their product, their clothes, talk about it, wanting me at a party to raise their profile.” He sneered, his mouth twisting. “Over and over again.