“I am,” I force myself to say. “Did Jason tell you?”

“No, I read your books. That’s actually why I’m here. I was thinking with all of your success you would want to become my sugar momma.”

I laugh. Too bad I also take a sip at the same exact moment. My drink goes down the wrong tube and I cough until it hurts. A drop of champagne spills out of my nose and it burns like hell.

“You all right?” Ryan asks.

“I’m fine.” I hold the back of my index finger to the bottom of my nose and smile even though it’s impossible to make this look good.

“Excuse me, can I get a picture of you guys?”

My finger is still plugging up my nostrils when I find good old Rob with his camera at the ready.

Really, Rob? I thought we were friends.

I lower my finger from my nose and sniffle a bit. “I don’t think...”

“One picture won’t kill us,” Ryan says, wrapping his arm around my waist and drawing me to his side.

There’s nothing suggestive about how we’re posing, but having my hip pressed against his feels strangely intimate. I do my best to banish the thought away, facing Rob and giving him my best smile. It falters when Ryan leans down, bringing his mouth so close to my ear that I almost jump.

“This is kind of crazy,” he says.

My stomach flutters, my body turning traitorous. Time slows down but I keep looking forward.

“What’s crazy?”

“Me having you in my arms again. I never thought I would.”

I look up at him the same moment Rob snaps the picture. The massive flash goes off, causing us both to squint in the aftermath.

“Thanks,” Rob says before scampering off.

Ryan’s hand falls from my hip as I instantly move away, situating myself across from him. “Okay, let’s just maintain our distance, shall we?”

“Your body still reacts to me that strongly, huh?”

“If by reacting you mean physically recoiling, then yes, I had a very strong reaction.”

Ryan looks close to laughing and for some reason, I feel the need to stop it from happening.

“And what are you up to now?” I ask. “What do you do?”

“I’m a structural engineer for a construction firm in Raleigh. It’s more managerial than field work since I’m at the senior level, but I like it.”

“That sounds nice. I always said you would be great at something like that.”

“I remember,” he says, his voice now carrying more severity than nostalgia. It’s understandable. I’m sure seeing me again isn’t easy for him either. As much as I choose to focus on all the wrong that happened between us, it’s very possible that Ryan has spent the last ten years remembering all the right.