“Oz,” I breathed, drowning in sensation, longing, when his mouth moved to the curve of my jaw, slid soft kisses down the side of my neck. The nickname slipped out, like old times.

George the Gnome slipped from my fingers.

“Ow, shit,” Mike breathed against my neck. The gnome had landed on Mike's foot. I couldn't help but smirk.

He lifted his head, pushed back, gave me some room but not enough to escape. We were both breathing hard as if we ran a race.

“Mine?” I asked, once the lusty fog cleared from my brain. I felt the muscles bunching in his lower back beneath my fingertips. I couldn't help but run my hands over him.

Mike nodded once, his eyes dark and dangerous. His gaze made my knees weak. “I don't want anyone seeing you like this.”

“How?” I ran a shaky hand over my hair, looked down at my shirt to make sure I was still dressed.

“Hot, needy. Horny.”

My mouth fell open. Oh God, he was right. I was all three. Realizing my hands were feeling up his very fine, jean-covered ass, I quickly let go. I felt my cheeks flame.

He picked up the gnome and carefully handed it to me. “The gnome gets a free pass. Otherwise your kisses are for me alone.”

“Since when?”

“Graduation night.”

What? He thought I'd been sitting by the phone waiting for his call, saving up all of my kisses, all of my feelings for him for over a decade? Sure, no guy I'd dated had compared, but that didn't mean there wasn't someone out there who'd more than meetallof my needs.

He was so full of himself! I pushed George into his chest. He grabbed it like the quarterback he once was, a surprised look on his face.

“You're an asshat, you know that? You lost that right a week later when you left and never came back.”

“Hey, that's not fair.”

“Not fair?” I hissed. “You chose medicine over me.”

“I chose medicine over everything,” he replied, his voice dark, serious. “No way could I walk away from something as important as that.”

I felt sucker punched. “Yeah. I figured out pretty quickly where I stood.”

“Vi,” Mike said as he messed his hair up again and sighed, the tension leaving his body, his shoulders slumping. “I didn't mean?—”

I held up my hand. My emotions were too raw, too near the surface to continue. I was afraid I'd break down in front of him, to let him see what he'd done to me, to see how his actions from a long time ago still shredded me inside. I hadn't waited for him, but I definitely wanted closure. With his abrasive words, I had it.

“Don't.” I walked to our bedroom, but turned at the door. Blood pounded in my ears with the harsh, angry adrenaline coursing through me. I took a deep breath. “Don't worry, Mike. I've always known where I rated with you. It was somewhereahead of bat shit crazy Susan, but after feet. I'd do well to remember that. Trish is expecting us to go out later for drinks. Since we need to keep up the charade, I'm going to go get ready.”

Mike nodded and didn't say more. It seemed he was smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut.

10

Thirty minutes later, we zipped through the rain in the clown car. Once again, Mike was wedged in like a sardine in a can. We couldn't fit anyone else in with us—Banks, Trish, nor the twins—so we took two cars.

I wasn't in the mood for company, but we'd committed to joining the group for drinks. If we didn't, they'd all think we were canoodling. As if that wasevergoing to happen. I was hurt and unbelievably mad at Mike. Emotions I'd shoved down years and years ago bubbled back to the surface. I hadn't held out for him all these years. But I had held out hope that I'd at least meant something to him back then.

I'd imagined many scenarios that had kept him away: dengue fever at summer camp with months of quarantine, top secret military service, the Peace Corps.

No way could I walk away from something as important as that.His reason hadn't been elaborate or complicated. It had been simple.

I hadn't been important enough to him. I'd come in second to his career.

My eyes felt like sandpaper. I was exhausted from the late flight, time change, the mental gymnastics, and trying hard not to cry. I needed to have my anger take a big old swing at my hurt. Knock it down, stomp on it and kick the crap out of it.