He strides across the lobby with a look of mild consternation on his face.

I might as well be standing in the hallway outside art class again, knowing he’s about to come out of world literature, cheeks burning even though a guy like Roman would never bother to see a girl like me. I feel exactly that hot and bothered at the sight of him—at the sight of his tall, muscled frame, at the sight of those Bliss blue eyes, at the styled dark hair that’s never once looked dorky, unlike me, unlike everything about me—

Oh, God, stop. This is finally my chance to one-up him. I can’t melt into myself.

I’m rooted to the spot. This time, we’re not in high school and he’s staring right at me. He has seen me in all my terrible disarray, and this is not how I wanted to—

For some reason, all I can think to do is to tug my shirt out of my pencil skirt so it’s not tucked in anymore. The moment it comes free my brain explodes in a shrieking chorus of what the hell are you doing???? and I have no idea. What was I thinking? Was I going to tie it up in a little knot like a pre-transformation Britney Spears? No. And now I’m standing here with an untucked shirt, with big round spills of champagne making the white very nearly transparent, and Roman Bliss.

He comes to a stop at an intimate distance, which I immediately realize is to shield me from the rest of the lobby, and looks down at the bellboy. “Get a key to the corner suite on three. Don’t just stand there—we also need someone to clean this up. Can’t have any guests tripping.”

Greg the Bellboy takes these orders like a soldier in the field and hustles off. Suite? Three?

Then Roman’s eyes are on mine, and there’s a flash of surprise in his gaze, one that fills his eyes and cascades over the rest of his face. He blinks, like he was expecting to see something else entirely. “Genevieve.”

A second ago I thought I might burst into flame, but hearing that name is like being submerged in ice water. I draw myself up to my full height, transparent shirt be damned. “It’s Jenny. Jenny London.”

“I can’t believe—” He snaps his mouth shut and I feel a little thrill of pleasure. “Let me take you upstairs to one of our suites. You can take a moment before we meet. His voice is still as smooth as it was back then, only deeper and more manly and a thousand times hotter than I’d anticipated. “Greg will be right back with a key.”