I’m pretty sure I just died.

Still, my ghost watches as Leo Nash, the frontman for the rock group Nash, walks through the door and hugs Will’s wife.

The man whose posters lined my walls as a teenager, whose concerts I never missed, is standing less than twenty feet away from me.

Leo. Fucking. Nash.

“Izzy?”

“Huh?” I turn to Maeve. “Yeah?”

“You just went white.”

“I’m dead.”

She follows my gaze and grins. “Yeah. I get it.”

“I have to leave.”

“Because Leo’s here? Nah, he’s really nice.”

“You don’t understand. I’m going to make a complete ass of myself. I’m going to do something stupid like trip, or ask him to take his shirt off, or volunteer to have his babies or something.”

“Pretty sure he’s used to that.”

I turn to leave and run right into a brick wall.

I look up to find Keegan smiling down at me, his hands on my shoulders to steady me. And just like that, my body heats, my heart pounds, and I realize this visceral reaction to Keegan’s nearness is much more intense than the reaction I had to seeing my teenage crush.

“Are you okay, then, Izzy?”

“Sure.” I swallow hard. “I mean, yeah.”

“She has a mild—and by mild I mean huge—crush on Leo.”

Keegan’s eyes narrow on my face, and I feel my cheeks flush.

“I used to,” I correct her.

“Sure, that’s why your face went white, and you just volunteered to have his babies.”

The muscle in Keegan’s jaw tics. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s mad. Or jealous.

But that’s just wishful thinking.

“You guys didn’t warn me until right now that I’d be meeting celebrities. People that I’ve watched and admired for years. On top of that, it’s a family party, and I do not belong here.”

“Come with me.”

Keegan takes my hand and leads me out of the main bar area, past the kitchen door, and into his office. He shuts the door behind us and turns to me.

“Take a deep breath.”

I do as instructed, and while it does help me feel a little better, my pulse is still off the charts.

Though it has nothing to do with Leo Nash.

“Let’s get something straight right now, Izzy. Wait, what is Izzy short for?”

I blink quickly, surprised by the sudden change in conversation. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What is your name short for? Elizabeth?”

“Isabella,” I reply and watch as Keegan clenches his fists and then slides his hands into his pockets. “Why?”