The door opens in a whoosh. Her blondish-brown hair flies around her face, partially obscuring her expression. I'm ten years late, but I'm here. That's what matters.

She pushes her hair out of her face. Her brown eyes shoot daggers at me. It's not exactly the response I'm hoping for but expecting her to jump back into my arms is likely too high of a bar.

"You saw The Late Show?" Her expression tells me she did but best to be sure.

"You're a jackass, Wyatt. What the hell was that?" Her eyes go from angry to sad in a heartbeat. "To talk about Isaac like that..."

"If Isaac was here, he'd wonder what took me so long." That's the truth. Talking about him isn't the first thing I thought she'd call me out on, but it is definitely one of them.

Her laugh is humorless. "I stopped wondering that almost ten years ago. I hope you have your return flight booked for tomorrow morning."

"Excellent. I can spend the night here." I take a step toward the door.

"That is not what I meant, and you know it."

"Ellie." I use the voice designed to make her knees weak.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare, Wyatt. You lost the right to say my name like that when you let me walk out the door of our house."

"I'm here to make that mistake right." I put my hand on the doorframe and lean closer to her.

She inches back and doesn't open the door any wider. "Doing all of this so publicly seems like the way to make it right? I have a life now. One that has nothing to do with you. Nothing." She sighs. Tension radiates off her.

I expected her reaction, sort of. Part of me hoped a herculean effort would have her falling back into my arms. Eight of our ten years apart are a blur. Time has probably moved differently for her.

"You can't just snap your fingers ten years later and expect me to come running." She leans her temple on the thick wooden door.

Her posture catches my breath in my throat. She looks like the girl I fell in love with all those years ago, the one I followed around like a lost puppy. Until she left, then I was just lost. "I'm clean now. Let's talk. If you have such a great life without me, it can't hurt to let me in."

Indecision floats across her face and then she steps back from the entrance. She leads me from the side door, through the spacious galley kitchen and back into a large open room with high ceilings, wooden beams poking through. Everything is decorated in creams and greys. She wasn't such a fan of neutral shades when we lived together. Off to the right is a bar. Does she keep it stocked? "Nice place." Suddenly, I'm not sure what to say. My plan worked, I'm here, with her. How do I plead my case? Maybe I should have made a list or come up with a list of concessions.

Ellie gestures to one of the couches, her posture stiff. I perch on the arm rest, and she sits opposite me. Something buzzes, and I pat my pocket. I frown when I find it. Turned off. The buzzing isn't me.

Ellie holds up her phone, and her home screen streams with new messages. It looks like the stock exchange.

"Oh," I say. "That's..." How do I finish that thought? Apologize? I'm not actually sorry. The attention is what I wanted. She used to hate the madness, the insanity of people's curiosity.

"Yeah." Ellie puts her phone face down on the coffee table between us. Her phone buzzes non-stop, and the glass table amplifies the sound. She's put it there on purpose.

Watching her in person is surreal. I spent years devouring anything I could get my hands on that let me see her. Magazines, movies, interviews, commercials—if she endorsed it, I bought it. Any other woman who entered my life was always second best and ended up walking out on me. I let them all go. Ellie's the first one I have ever chased. I should have gone after her harder years ago.

She stares at me expectantly, and I remember I'm supposed to be talking. I'm just about to say something, anything, when I hear an unfamiliar ring tone.

"Just a sec." She walks over to a box on the wall. "Go ahead, Freddie."

"Uh, Ellie, Matt Pacheco is here to see you." Freddie sounds unsure.

She looks back at me on the couch and bites her lip. "Does he know Wyatt is here?"

"He does now, ma'am. He's standing right beside me," Freddie says.

Ellie releases her fingers on the intercom and points at me. "I swear, Wyatt. I will murder you if you can't keep your shit together while Matt is here."

I hold up my hands and wink at her. I have no problem controlling myself if I want to. Will I want to? Who knows?

"You're an ass." Signs of a grin play at the edges of her mouth. Like always, she's probably read my mind. She pushes the button again and says, "Tell Matt I'll meet him at the door."

"Do you want me to answer it?" I ask. "Door to door salesman, I'm guessing?" I'm not sure how she'll take my joke, but she only shakes her head as she heads to the side door.

"Keep it together, Wyatt," she calls back to me.

Ten years. I rub my face with my hands. Ten years. Just there, bantering with her, it's like yesterday.

She comes into the room with a hulk of a man trailing behind her. My brief thought of trading blows with him over Ellie's honor fades fast. He probably bench presses guys like me. I stand up to face him. I'm tall, and depending on the movie, I'm muscular. This guy is like a dark-skinned WWE wrestler.

"Wyatt." Ellie gestures to me. "This is Matt, my boyfriend."

Even though I know she'll call him that, the reality slams into me like a linebacker tackling the quarterback. A boyfriend. Why was I finally given Ellie's address if she had a serious boyfriend?

An old familiar pang niggles at the back of my brain. I'm itching. The desire to take something to dull the edge off my initial hurt is strong. Mentally, I list all the drugs I could take that would smooth out this conversation. I clutch my phone in my pocket. I'm going to have to make a call when I leave here to make sure I don't screw this up before I get started. Squaring my shoulders, I circle around the couches and extend my hand.

Matt accepts it, but he's reluctant. He's never been out with Ellie in public, so this relationship can't possibly be serious. Confidence surges through me. He should be worried. I'm not giving up this time.

His handshake isn't anything special. I glance at Ellie, and she knows what I'm thinking. Amusement plays at the corners of her lips.

"How's the wrestling world? Is Vince McMahon a nice guy or kinda a dick?" I keep half an eye on Ellie's reaction.

Matt rears back. "I don't know what you mean. Who is that?"

Ellie fights a grin and covers her lips with her hand.

"Oh, sorry. My mistake. You looked familiar, I thought for sure it was from the WWE. Ellie and I used to watch it together all the time." Of course, back then she claimed she didn't find their hulking fitness level attractive. A lie, clearly. This guy out hulks The Hulk. I raise my eyebrows at Ellie, and she shrugs her shoulders as though I've caught her out.

"That was quite an interview you gave." Matt gathers Ellie close to his side when I release his hand.

"Thanks." I dig into the awkward moment of silence, letting it go beyond politeness. "I thought it was about time I got my shit together, you know. Go after the things that matter."

The hint of humor vanishes from Ellie's eyes. Her jaw tightens. She turns her body into Matt, her hand resting on his chest. "Thanks for coming over." She gazes up at him adoringly.

My hand clenches and unclenches around the phone in my pocket. That adoring look is fake. I know the real thing—that ain't it.

"Anything for you, babe." Matt returns her look. He searches her face for a minute and then says, "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

I narrow my eyes. Okay? Why wouldn't she be okay? Something is off here. This visit isn't only because of my interview.

"Wyatt was just leaving." Ellie turns back to me.

"Was I?" I grin at her. "I just got here. We haven't even had a chance to catch up."

"If Ellie wants you to leave, you'll be leaving." Matt squeezes her a little tighter. I almost ask him to be careful with her.

"What time is your flight tomorrow?" Ellie batts her eyes at me.

Oh, she's really stringing him along. This joker has no idea who he's dating. If this is how she behaves when they're together, he's not getting the full Ellie experience.

"I cleared my schedule for a week or so. It's such a beautiful island." I ignore Matt and smile at her, assessing her reaction to my words.

Her smile falters at the edges. She swallows hard.

"Where are you staying?" His voice is flinty.

"Grotto something or other." My eyes never leave Ellie.

"We don't want to hold you up from your vacation time." Matt lets go of her as he starts to usher me toward the door.

Old Wyatt would draw a line on the floor, brawl his way out of the house. Over my shoulder, Ellie seems to be anticipating my reaction. But I'm here to show her I'm not the guy she walked out on. I can be reasonable.

"Ellie." I meet her gaze. "I'll see you tomorrow. We've got a lot of catching up to do after all these years."

She hesitates and then puts a hand on Matt's arm. "Can you give us just a moment?"

Matt's chin dips and frustration briefly crosses his face. "I'll meet you in our room when you're done here."

I should have gone out swinging. That comment almost sets me off. Our room. What the fuck? He doesn't live here. Does he? No, he wouldn't have to pass through security if he did.

Ellie must see something in my face because her reply to him is non-committal before grabbing my arm and taking me into the kitchen. "Stop," she says as she gets a glass of water from the fridge.

"What?" I stare at her wide-eyed look, innocent.

"All of it. Just stop. This isn't a game. My life is not a publicity stunt. All of this—the visit, the interview, all the rest of the press. Is this—are you promoting a movie?" She places her glass on the island and stares at me down the length of the counter.

"No," I say. "It has nothing to do with any movie. I'm here for you. I've wanted to see you for ten years."

Ellie thrusts her hands wide with an exasperated look. "Guess what? I was here the whole time."

"You seriously don't think I tried? You don't think I made phone calls, asked friends and acquaintances, phoned your manager, called former acting partners? I did all of that. All of it. Hell, I even flew here once. But the islanders acted like I was a disease. No one would tell me where you lived. I went to your parents' place, but they wouldn't let me past the gates. I even booked one of those 'see famous houses' tours, but as soon as they recognized me, they cancelled the whole God-damned tour."

Ellie stares at her glass but doesn't say anything.

"I tried," I say. "I'm not going to tell you I tried hard enough because I don't think I did. But don't ever think I didn't try, Ellie." I splay my hands on the island, shoulders up, mirroring her posture. Some days I'd been too out of it on drugs or alcohol to do much of anything. She doesn't need to be reminded of that reality. I'm not that guy anymore.

She gathers her hair into a ponytail and then lets it fall in a wave behind her back. "I don't know what to say, Wyatt."

"Spend some time with me over the next week while I'm here. I promise you, I'm not the man I was." I try to get her to meet my gaze. She needs to believe me. I'm going to show her, but I need her to believe me.

"I have a boyfriend." She gestures to the back of the house. "Hanging out with you wouldn't be fair to him. Ten years ago, I asked you to go to rehab, to choose me over your addiction. You couldn't do that. I can't choose you now. I'd be a fool to throw away the life I've built to relive some old memories."

"I was hoping we could make some new ones." I give her a small smile, testing the water.

"I moved on, Wyatt." Ellie sighs. "That first year after I left you, I thought you might come. I hoped you would. You were always so unpredictable, you know? Maybe today will be the day, I used to think. But every day I woke up, and you never appeared." Her brown eyes are sad when they meet my gaze.

I can't argue with her. She still knows me better than anyone. If I was determined to find her, I'd have left no stone unturned. This time, I pushed until someone caved. But the person who caved is also the reason I know I have a chance.

"I'm here, Ellie. I know that doesn't count for much right now, but I'm here to show you things are different, I'm different." I say. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"No. I'm not blowing up my life for you." She wags her finger and takes a drink of her water.

"I'm here for a week, Ellie." Frustration seeps into my voice. "You kept me away for ten years. Should I have tried harder? Yeah, I should have. Did you make it damn hard for me to get to you? Yeah, you did. So, if you're going to string me up for not coming, at least give me a chance now that I'm here."

Her brown eyes soften. She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She can't meet my gaze but then it's like her body becomes liquid, and she nods her head once. "Tomorrow. Only until three in the afternoon." She stares at me, searching for something on my face. "Who knows you're here? Is there going to be a flood of paps outside my door tomorrow?"

We fought bitterly over the press attention when we were together. She found it invasive, frustrating. I love the attention—I like to be wanted. "Just my team. I didn't purposely lead anyone here. I give you my word." I place a hand on my heart.

She gives me a skeptical look. "I guess we'll see whether that means anything anymore." She turns from the island and opens the side door. "What time are you coming here?"

"Ten? You're probably jetlagged, right?"

Surprise flashes in her eyes. "Uh, yeah." She avoids my gaze. "Freddie will call you a cab."

"No limo service?" We spent a lot of time in the back of one. The memories are right there every time I look at her. On my lap. Underneath me. Laughing over a shared joke. Leaving a funeral.

She gives a short laugh. "Not on the island." Ellie meets my gaze, "It's weird, but I don't miss any of that, you know?"

Her words are a knife to my heart. She meant them to be. Can't blame her. I made a lot of mistakes. I give her a small grin. "I guess we'll see about that too." Before I leave, I loop my arm around her waist and whisper in her ear, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Goosebumps form on her arms, and they're not from the cold.

This book is also available as an eBook and in paperback format.