But loving someone when their family despises you is something else. Grayson shielded me, or he tried to, but I heard their barbs. I felt their disdain, and when push came to shove, I knew he’d choose them because they held the keys to his future. Like my father had, Grayson would’ve chosen his happiness over the people in his life. I was young and dumb and thought if I left him first, it wouldn’t hurt.

That proved wrong. It hurt and I was too immature to go back to him.

“Does it really matter? Do any high school sweethearts ever last?” I ask. “He’s gone and living what I’m sure is a perfect life.”

She looks down, blowing a long breath through her nose. “How does your sister literally spend every other day with Stella and you know nothing?”

Before I can answer or clarify, Jennie brings our plates and my stomach growls. It’s been so long since I’ve had breakfast like this.

I stare at the plate, touching the rim, not sure how to start or if this is real. Before the crash, life was about efficiency. I was often flying early in the morning, which meant I needed to work out and then prepare for whatever trip the celebrity we were flying requested. I can’t remember the last time I sat down to eat where it wasn’t about running to the next thing. Let alone that I got to have carbs like this.

“Are you planning to eat it or make love to it?” Delia asks with a snort.

“Both.”

We giggle and then the chime rings on the door.

I look up, not knowing what possessed me to care, but when I do, it’s as though not only the plane is crashing around me but also the world. A pair of blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a smile that I couldn’t forget if I tried is there, and I can’t breathe.

Grayson Parkerson is in town and staring back at me.

Chapter 2

Grayson

I stand here, looking at the woman I loved, not sure if I’m imagining it. Stella told me she was back, but I’ve spent the last three weeks waiting to see her and . . . nothing. I figured she was gone just as quick as she returned.

A hand clasps my shoulder, and I look away. I shouldn’t care if Jessica is here. It has been fourteen years and we’ve both moved on, but then, if that were the case, it wouldn’t feel as if I were just punched in my gut.

“You ready to eat?” Jack asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good, the call we just had left me fucking starving.”

I chuckle. “You’re always starving.”