“And what about you?” Her smile was a little wicked as she toyed with me, but I knew she needed to hear me say it out loud, the same way I needed to hear the same admission from her.

No matter how strong either of us were, our vulnerability for each other lay right below the surface, two land mines just waiting to explode.

“Any other woman would have just been my version of a poor man’s Julia. A second-place trophy. A mere replica because I couldn’t have the original. And, deep down, I would have always known it and fucking hated it.”

Her jaw slacked with her surprise. It seemed like I was always shocking her with my words, but it wasn’t like it was the first time I’d admitted to having feelings for her.

“You know, you might have said all these things to me years ago and saved us both a little time,” she answered like a smart-ass, her hands rubbing the sides of my legs as she looked up at me, her eyelashes batting.

“Uh, I tried to do that, remember? That time in the vineyard when I told you I wanted to be with you, and you smashed my heart into a million pieces,” I said, bringing up one of the most painful memories of my young adult life.

Her eyebrows pulled together, and she looked distraught. “What are you talking about?”

I took a step back to not only break our physical contact, but to also look at her from a distance instead of so up close. “Um, that night in the vineyard. In high school?” I said it like a question because her confused expression hadn’t lessened.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, her full lips pursing like she’d eaten something rotten.

“You’re joking, right? Messing with me?” I cocked a lopsided grin, but she shook her head.

“No. James, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. What night in the vineyard? Was this before or after you started that rumor?”

“You really don’t remember?” I asked as the pieces started to fall into place.

She hadn’t treated me any differently after that night, like I’d mistakenly thought. She didn’t even remember it. Hell, my ego had been so damaged that I’d read into everything she didn’t say in ways she never meant.

“Tell me, what happened?”

“It was the night you went out to drink all the wine. You were alone. Except for the four bottles by your side,” I started to explain as her expression shifted, her eyebrows shooting up and her hand covering her mouth.

“Oh my God. You were there. I remember now that you showed up, and I was so pissed about you being there. But I don’t remember anything after that.”