Taking a deep breath, I left my spot on the swing and came down to meet him. “Thank you,” I said, reaching for the flowers. “They’re beautiful. Let’s get them in water. You want some coffee?”

He gave me a rueful smile and tugged the front of his hair. “Yeah, that would be great.”

Inside, I poured us both some coffee and placed the flowers in the sink filled with water while I hunted out a vase. I couldn’t remember the last time I used one. Colt tied the balloons to a kitchen chair and trotted back outside to bring in a bunch of beer and drinks he’d brought for the party.

“Is there anything I can help with today,” he asked, coming back in and setting the boxes down on the counter.

I put the beer away in the fridge. “No, I think we’re good. I have to finish up a bunch of tuition grant applications as they’re due this week.”

“Oh yeah. How did the meeting at SCAD go?”

I swallowed guiltily. Colt had asked me to text him when I was in Savannah to meet him for coffee. I hadn’t.

First of all, the meeting Faith had somehow swung with the Dean of the School of Design had gone on longer than planned. Second, I was with Vern, and third, and frankly, more importantly, I was trying to avoid giving Colt even a hint that I might be interested in him. “It went great, but ran really long. Sorry I didn’t text you, I was with Vern, and we had to get back.” I smiled nervously.

He nodded and busied himself with the boxes. It was weird seeing the ex-Butler Cove High School QB looking less sure of himself than I remembered. I studied his handsome, sweet face and really wished I were attracted to him. He had shown himself to be thoughtful, funny, and a really good friend over the last two months. He made me happy. He made me laugh. What was wrong with me? Was it still too soon, or was it that Jack Eversea was a fire that burned brighter than the sun, and I’d been seared beyond repair?

I walked over and laid a hand on the soft grey sweater covering Colt’s forearm. “I’m sorry, Colt. Thank you for being a good friend.”

He winced. “I just want you to be happy, Keri Ann.” Turning, he wrapped his big bear arms around me, and I sank into his comfortable embrace.

There was no chemistry. None. Surely he could tell that, too? I didn’t really understand how these things worked. I felt him give me a warm kiss on my hair and smiled. “I know, and thank you.”

Grabbing our coffees we settled at the kitchen table, and I filled him in on my progress with trying to get into school. Faith had become like a fairy godmother, helping me, guiding me, advising me, and pushing me to put myself out there. We were both hoping I would be able to get one of the tuition scholarships SCAD offered. I was applying for state and private funds, too.

Being able to prove I was already selling pieces would go a long way toward getting a grant. Also the fact I’d been selected by the Picture This gallery in Hilton Head as a featured regional artist coming up in December, again with a wave of Faith’s magic wand I was sure, would all be a part of my application.

Between work, creating pieces for Faith’s store, and all the applications, I never had time to do much thinking.

My phone buzzed a text, causing a clattering across the table. I’d never responded to Jack’s last text, and he never sent another. Even so, my belly always gave a small lurch each time my phone made a noise. I wondered if I’d ever get over that. I grabbed it and saw the name ‘Jazz’ and a link to Access Hollywood. “Sorry,” I said to Colt. With a frown, I clicked open the link.

Jack and Audrey Split! Huge public blow up! I stopped reading.

I couldn’t believe she’d send me this after agreeing never to mention his name to me again. We hadn’t even talked about the movie when it came out. I hadn’t seen it, obviously. I immediately called her.

“I know, I know!” she said as soon as she answered.

I eyed Colt who was looking at me with confusion. “Seriously, Jazz? Them being together or not has nothing to do with me—”

“Wait, I know it doesn’t mention this in the article I sent you, but—”

“I haven’t read it,” I snapped.

Realizing the topic, Colt dropped his eyes and shifted.

“I figured you hadn’t since you’re already on the phone with me, and I just sent it–but just hear me out, ok?”

I sighed, and mouthing another sorry to Colt, went out the front door to sit on the porch swing. “Fine. Go ahead.” I steeled myself to let whatever she had to tell me slide right off.

“Never mind. I’m coming over. Hang tight.”

I ground my teeth together and breathed out in a huff.

“Oh, and happy birthday,” she added and hung up.

I put my phone down beside me and drew my legs up. I hugged them tightly to my chest and waited, a medicine ball lodged in my throat. The amount of times I had thumbed gently across the Late Night Visitor entry in my contact list made me shudder with shame. My moments of weakness were more frequent than I cared to admit.

And when I allowed myself to think of Jack, my emotions ricocheted around like a three-ring circus.

In one corner of my mind, I had this memory that, despite the brevity of our time together, Jack and I had connected on some elemental level reserved for past lives and soul mates. We were just a boy and a girl who recognized each other across the deep blue universe. That corner of my mind found it hard to remember all the reasons that would preclude us being together. Like the fact he was a movie star and I was ... not, or that he had a baby being carried by another woman.

The second corner called into question any real relationship at all. It was all based on lust and chalked me up to being blinded by Jack’s celebrity status, his attractiveness, and his role as Max. This second corner had the added barbs of calling into question my role as anything more than a shallow groupie and willing female in the dark period of his life. In this corner, I only remembered our physical attraction. I wondered whether we had any connection at all. I couldn’t believe I would have been that shallow. But the evidence was pretty convincing.

The third corner was deepest of all. The third corner simply stated that we were star-crossed lovers that should never have met. But we did. And in that game the evil jester called fate liked to play, we were attracted in an instant. The potential for love ... for eternity ... was, in a split-second, acknowledged, catalogued, realized, and set on a collision course with never. I could almost hear the snort of derision. Ain’t never gonna happen.

A ripple on the fabric of fate. A joke that might have ruined my potential for any future happiness.

Now, I wanted it all. I knew I wouldn’t settle for the sweet and steady Colton Graves’s of the world.

No corner of my mind was a comfortable place to settle into. And now Jazz was stirring it all back up.

Her yellow car arrived in my driveway with a spurt of white shells. Flinging open the door, she climbed out. “Boot up the computer, we need to look through this together.” Not pausing for breath, she marched up the stairs in her jeans and boots, her blonde hair flying all over the place in the wind.

“I don’t want to know, Jazz!”

“You do. I promise. At least you can stop thinking he’s been fine while you’ve been moping.”

“I’m not moping.”