By the time the event is over, I’m contemplating trying hypnosis to get the man out of my head. We’re to meet up outside, where a line of cars is pulling forward to pick up celebrities. Over the sea of people milling around and conversing, Macon spots me. The stern expression that is his natural resting face lightens, a subtle curving of his lips, a lift of his slanting brows. But it’s the emotion in his eyes that gets me. When Macon looks at me, it’s as if I’m the only thought in his mind. It’s always been that way, only now, instead of seeing resentment and irritation in his eyes, I see genuine pleasure.

In that moment, everything melts away: the horrible tension in my neck, the tetchy feeling in my belly. Warmth and a flutter of anticipation fill me instead. Macon still uses a cane—this one is ebony with a silver skull handle, which makes me smile—but he wields it well, his gait more of a swagger.

He looks every inch a star, ruggedly gorgeous, in a gray bespoke suit that emphasizes his height and capable shoulders. He doesn’t wear a tie but has his white shirt open at the collar, exposing the hollow of his throat. He steps to my side, his hand touching my elbow. “There you are.” As if I’m a child he lost track of.

I bite the inside of my cheek because the snappish feeling returns, and it isn’t his fault that I’m moody.

“Here I am,” I reply as people jostle us.

His hand slips to the small of my back, guiding me around two Oscar winners. “You should have sat with me.”

I try not to stare at one of my childhood crushes, who apparently is my height—you learn something new every day. I tear my eyes away before I’m caught gaping like a rube. “Macon, it was a twenty-thousand-dollars-a-plate function. Staff doesn’t sit with the stars.”

His firm lips go flat. “Next time, I’ll buy you dinner, and we’ll sit anywhere we damn well please.”

Don’t make me like you any more than I already do. But I can’t say that without revealing too much, so I give him a weak smile. “That’s sweet of you, but I don’t mind. You’re working.”

He makes a noise of dissent under his breath. “I kept forgetting you weren’t there, and I’d lean over, wanting to whisper something in your ear, only to find Chris looking back at me as if I’d lost my mind.”

My lips twitch. Chris being Chris Chadsworth, one of Hollywood’s hottest stars. “Maybe he thinks you’re sweet on him.”