The news was like a knife between my ribs. I gave my friend a bleak smile. “Good news for you.”

“Aye.” He grinned. “She gave me her number.”

I wasn’t surprised. Jack was no Aidan Lennox, but he could charm the pants off most women.

“As for you,” he said, “don’t listen to him. Ye’er brilliant up there.”

I returned his kiss on the cheek from earlier. “Thanks, Jack,” I said sadly, unable to hide my feelings now that Aidan was gone and I didn’t have to.

However, I didn’t want Jack’s pity. I grabbed my stuff and hightailed it out of the theater, dreading the next rehearsal.

And boy, did that piss me off even more. Why the hell was Aidan here? This was merely a favor to him, but the theater was my joy.

He was ruining my freaking joy!

To say I was in a foul mood after rehearsal was the world’s biggest understatement, and that foul mood continued on into the week. My colleagues at the pub avoided me like the plague and I didn’t contribute much to the tip jar at the end of the bar, so I offered to let Kieran and our other colleague Joe share that between them.

Thankfully, that made them hate me less.

I’ve never understood people who want to be around others when they’re in a black mood. If you can spare people being infected by that crap, why wouldn’t you? So I stayed home alone on Saturday, but there was no avoiding Seonaid on Sunday. She called and when I tried to bail on our monthly Sunday catch-up with Angie, she threatened to come personally haul my ass there.

Angie’s delight to see me somewhat soothed my irritation, and it was nice to be fawned over by a mother figure as she ushered me into the kitchen where Seonaid and Roddy were. They were standing by the coffee machine, Seonaid backed up against the counter, Roddy’s body pressed into hers, and he murmured something against her mouth that made her smile.

Envy unlike anything I’d ever experienced around them slithered through my veins like a poisonous serpent. It fueled my frustration with its toxin and it started to transform into suspicion and anger.

Angie cleared her throat. “Not in my kitchen,” she warned, but she looked anything but annoyed.

She was happy her daughter and the boy she considered a son were happy.

I was happy for them too.

I was.

But right then, my theory about Aidan was making my gut churn with irate anticipation.

“You’re here.” Seonaid brushed by Roddy and came toward me, wearing a big grin on her lovely face, a grin that fell when she saw my expression. She stopped. “What’s wrong?”

Something took over me. My need for answers. And it didn’t care if Angie and Roddy were in the room. “Did Aidan come looking for me? When I left?”

She paled.

And the breath was knocked out of me. “Oh my God.”

“Nora.” she stepped toward me, appearing panicked. “He showed up at the salon a few days after you left.”

My confusion and rage exploded out of me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I yelled.

Seonaid flinched and Roddy was at her back, glowering at me. “Want tae cool it?”

“This is none of your business,” I snapped at him. “Seonaid?”

“He asked where you were and I told him you’d gone back home. He stormed out as soon as I told him. That was it. That was the extent of our conversation.”

“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me. I thought he was in California!”

“I couldn’t assume that he hadn’t come back. I didn’t know why he was there, Nora.”

“But you could have told me!”

Her expression turned pleading. “He wrecked you, Nora. I thought he was back to mess you up again and you needed to be at peace for once. Okay, I’m sorry if that was high-handed of me, but I didn’t see any point in telling you. And when you came home, you were so content and so focused on you. Life was about you for once. You didn’t seem to care anymore about Aidan, and I assumed that he was a blip in your history.” Tears shone in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

I slumped, the fight draining out of me at her words. Why the hell was I yelling at my best friend when I completely agreed with every word coming out of her mouth? Except one thing. “I wasn’t over him,” I whispered.

“Oh God, Nora—”

“But I am now,” I cut her off. “I have to be. You’re right. My life is finally where it should be and he made it messy.”

There was a moment’s quiet and then Angie spoke up. “I have absolutely nae idea who or what ye’er talking about … but sometimes the most beautiful things in life are the messiest.”

My chest ached a little at her wisdom, but I remained strong. “And sometimes something comes along that’s so beautiful, it’s agony to lose it. I’ve had enough loss to last a lifetime.” I looked at Seonaid. “I’m sorry for yelling. You did the right thing.”

Seonaid didn’t look so sure. “Did I?”

Despite Seonaid’s warning that I couldn’t keep my feelings bottled up, I tried very hard to convince myself that I was okay with how things had played out with Aidan. That I needed to be okay so I could go on living my life in perfect contentment. While he gallivanted around the theater with his beautiful women and horse-assery.

Finding my Zen, however, was proving more difficult than I’d thought. I was a bundle of confused feelings. At war with myself.

So it wasn’t any wonder I reacted the exact opposite of how I’d hoped when Aidan finally confronted me in private.

Having to meet up with another student to work on an assignment we had for a tutorial, I hadn’t seen any point in heading home to Sighthill only to have to return to Tollcross for rehearsal. I’d grabbed a salad from a shop on Potterrow, and walked to the theater. I was ninety minutes early so no one was there. Thankfully, Quentin was usually at the theater during the day so the doors were open. When I got inside the auditorium, however, it was pitch black.

“Quentin?” I called out. “Are you here?”

My voice echoed.

Nothing.

“Anyone?”

But the silence told me I was alone. I wondered if Quentin had accidentally left the theater unlocked. I’d need to let him know.

Switching on the stage lights to make me not feel like I was about to become part of a horror movie, I found my way into an empty dressing room.

Eating my salad, I worked on a paper, waiting for the minutes to tick by.

A noise far off in the distance made me still like a rabbit caught in headlights. I cocked my head, listening, and sure enough, footsteps approached. Blood rushed in my ears as my pulse raced. I then cursed myself for being freaked out when it was obviously a cast member who was—I glanced at my watch—an hour early.

I waited, and the dressing room door I had left slightly ajar squeaked open.

My breath caught at the sight of Aidan filling the doorway.

He crossed his arms and his ankles and leaned against the jamb, staring at me dispassionately.

All I could do was stare back, my emotions whirling in a mess of feelings, like a tornado, with no thought to what it was sucking up into its wind funnel. “What are you doing here?” I finally said, my voice hoarse.

“I was sitting in the coffee shop across the way and I saw you come in.”

“You followed me?”

“I argued with myself about it for a while. But aye.”

Adrenaline coursed through me and made my hands shake. I curled them into fists and hoped I looked back at him with as much boredom as he was bestowing upon me. “Why?”

“Curiosity.” He shrugged.

“Curiosity?”

“Were you always such a heartless robot and I was just too fucking blind to see it?”

I flinched, knowing this was the moment I should tell him that Laine had lied to me. But I couldn’t get the words out. I wanted to and I didn’t want to.

So fear of him hating me and fear of him loving me left me in some kind of exasperated, frustrated no-man’s land. I shot to my feet. “If you came here to use me as your emotional punching bag, you can leave,” I hissed.