I wasn't sure if I could handle the erotic image he was about to send to me. My body was already aching for him to touch me. Seeing how much he missed me, how much he wanted me . . . might undo me.

The phone went silent, then his heavy breath returned to my ear. I wasn't sure if he'd done it or not, then my phone chirped at me. I closed my eyes for a second, nerves and excitement washing over me. God, I missed him so much. "Kellan," I murmured, as I pulled my phone away from my ear.

Careful not to hang up on him, I checked the message he'd just sent me. My jaw dropped when I opened it. He did it. He actually did it. He sent me a picture of himself in his most exposed and vulnerable state. True, Kellan wasn't nearly as reserved as I was, and this probably wasn't as monumental for him as it was for me, but still . . .

I couldn't stop staring at the photograph. Oddly enough, considering the subject, it was artistic and beautiful. Kellan's pictures usually were. He was bold and proud, the lighting was flattering, and his left hand was arranged in such a way that his wedding ring seemed to glow at me, as if to say, This is yours, wife, and yours alone. It was fascinating, breathtaking, sweet, and hot, all at the same time. The fire tingling me before shifted to a full-on blaze. I needed him . . . immediately.

"Kiera? You still there?"

I quickly brought the phone back to my ear. "I need you to touch me, Kellan . . . right now."

This time, he did chuckle. "Needless to say, I need you to touch me too."

The image of his body permanently etched in my brain, I moaned his name . . . and it wasn't the last time his name left my lips that night. . . .

I had a dopey smile on my face as I walked into work the next evening. It fell from my lips when I noticed what Jenny had done to the bar. Against my wishes, Jenny had decorated for my going-away party. Every archway and table was highlighted with twisting pink and white streamers. Balloons in every color of the rainbow dotted the ceiling. Long strings were tied to each one, dangling low enough so that people could grab them; the customers were having a great time yanking them down and watching them float back up. A huge banner was attached to the black wall behind the stage, right above the band's drawing. In embarrassingly tall letters, it screamed: GOODBYE, KIERA! GOOD LUCK! WE'LL MISS YOU!

It warmed and mortified me. Low-key, my ass!

Jenny trotted up to me as I stood gaping in the doorway. She gave me a swift hug as I exclaimed, "Jenny! What happened to having a small cake in the back room?"

Her smile big and beautiful, she shrugged as we pulled apart. "Don't worry, there's still a cake in the back room for you." Her pale eyes flicked around the bar, then back to me. "I just felt like your send-off needed a little . . . pizzazz. This is a huge moment for you, after all. You're not just leaving the bar, you're leaving Seattle." She frowned.

I sighed but couldn't really argue with her, especially as I watched her eyes mist over. So even though I really wanted to tear down all of the streamers and pop every balloon, I enclosed her in another hug instead. I guess I could put up with a few decorations for one evening; I drew the line at the party hat that she pulled out for me, though. I may have to feel like an idiot tonight, but I didn't want to look like one as well.

Nearly everyone I knew in Seattle came to Pete's to wish me well on my upcoming journey-my sister, my study buddies from school, the regular customers that I'd served almost every night, a couple of friends that I'd made in art class. Denny came in and sat at the band's table, joking and laughing with the bouncer, Sam.

It was comforting to have everyone that I cared about so close to me. I couldn't imagine leaving them all in a couple of days. The change almost seemed too monumental, and a part of me didn't think I could do it-but I remembered my phone call with Kellan the night before and what was waiting for me in L.A., and I knew I could do it. It would hurt to leave, but it's what I had to do. Besides, growing pains were supposed to hurt a little.

Later in the evening, one of my closest friends at school, Cheyenne, arrived. She was warm and outgoing, one of those girls that everyone liked. She had taken an instant liking to me and had saved my butt in our poetry class. I was sure I wouldn't have graduated without her. Well, okay, I probably would have graduated, but she definitely helped smooth the process.

Cheyenne was followed into the bar by her girlfriend, Meadow, and the rest of the members of Poetic Bliss. I was surprised to see the band there; they weren't scheduled to play tonight. As Cheyenne gave me a hug, Sunshine, Tuesday, and Blessing plugged in their instruments. Rain took her spot behind the lead microphone, while Meadow ducked behind the drums. Yeah, all of the members of the band had strange names. Saying their names directly to them had been a challenge at first. It's just a little hard for me to call someone Tuesday with a straight face.

As an energized hum filled the bar, I looked between my two blond, perky pals. Cheyenne was gazing up at the girl band with an expression of adoration that I knew very well-I tended to look at the D-Bags the exact same way. Jenny was bouncing on her toes, giddiness over her successful party overwhelming her.

"Are they playing tonight . . . just for me?" I asked, surprised.

Cheyenne looked back at me, her grin wider than her home state of Texas. "Sure are! I asked Meadow if they could give you a proper goodbye." She sighed as she looked back to her girlfriend. "They had to rearrange a couple of gigs, but they were happy to do it. Anything for my girl Kiera!"

I blinked, wondering if I'd be that cool if Kellan wanted to give a former crush such a thoughtful gift. Then again, Meadow knew me, and she knew that I was with Kellan . . . and straight. I suppose that tempered the jealousy, if there even was any; Cheyenne and I had cemented our friends-only status before they'd even started dating.

I found it difficult to concentrate on my waitressing duties once the band was in full swing. Friends kept chatting with me around every corner, and several customers that were not there for me were a little irritated by the whole thing. Eventually, Pete came out of his office and let me go several hours early. There were loud cheers and whistles as I handed him my apron. Pete patted my shoulder, thanked me for my time here at the bar, then handed me an apple-flavored sucker. I tried to not get teary-eyed, but when my coworker Kate gave me a hug, I lost it.

Kate, teary-eyed herself, walked me up to the bar. Rita was tending, as she did almost every night, and she poured us shots while Jenny grabbed the cake from the back room. For the first time since I'd known Rita, she didn't mention my rock-god husband. She usually bragged about sleeping with him, or made some vague remark that reeked of innuendo, but tonight she seemed almost respectful as she ate some cake and chased it with a celebratory shot.

By the time the group of us had finished the cake, I'd had about six celebratory shots. They just kept miraculously appearing in front of me, and someone-usually my sister-kept encouraging me to drink them. My head was fuzzy when someone else pulled me out onto the dance floor . . . Cheyenne, I think. When I was pulled into the middle of the band's fans, I let go of my inhibitions and danced my heart out. I'd always found dancing freeing, a way to get out of my head. The alcohol surging through my system helped there too, of course. I felt like I was floating as I twirled around.

After an eternity of dancing mixed with drinking, I was sweaty, insouciant, and feeling no pain. I bumped into a familiar, athletic body, and turned to peer up into Denny's warm, dark eyes. He smiled down on me as he steadied me. The music, the crowd . . . it reminded me of dancing with Denny on a much different occasion. Examining my face, Denny asked, "You all right there, Kiera?"

Looking around the bar, I wondered if Denny's girlfriend was with him. She and Denny worked for a prosperous advertising company. Denny was sort of her boss. "Is Abby here?" My question came out a little slurred. As Denny started to answer me, a random thought popped into my head and shot right out of my mouth. "You guys work together . . . so, since you're in charge during the day, is she your boss at night?"

His cheeks red, Denny mumbled something about her being out with friends tonight while I giggled at the image now firmly etched in my head.

While I was chuckling, I noticed a friend of mine holding out another shot for me. I eagerly took it, reaching over Denny's body to grab it. We were flush together with my arm draped over his shoulder as I tipped it back. Giggling, I handed the empty glass to my friend and wrapped my other arm around Denny; a feeling of familiarity flooded through me as our eyes locked.

Even though Jose Cuervo didn't really care about personal boundaries, I knew in the back of my head that we were too close together. While Denny frowned at me, I gently pushed him back so that our chests were no longer touching. Well, I meant to push him. I ended up forcing myself back a step. I bumped into the guy behind me and almost lost my balance. Denny's frown deepened as he grabbed my elbow to keep me upright.

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

My answer came out in a high-pitched laugh.

Denny rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I was just about to head home, but I can't leave you here like this all alone. Did your sister leave already?"

I pursed my lips, trying to remember through the fog. Was my sister still here? Had she ever been here? I couldn't quite recall . . . and then my hazy brain pulled out a memory from just a few minutes ago. Anna had started feeling a bit run down, and had wanted to go home and crawl into bed. She'd tried to get me to leave with her, but I'd wanted to keep dancing and refused to let her move me. Irritated, Anna had grabbed Jenny as she'd walked nearby and told her to take me home before she waddled out the doors. It had shocked me a little. Anna had never been the first one to leave a party before.

I shook my head. "Nope, she pooped out . . . left."

I giggled, and Denny sighed. "Well, then, I guess I'm driving you home."

Touched by his offer, I squeezed him tight. "You're the best, Denny." A slight sob came out of me. "I'm so sorry I cheated on you."

Denny started moving me toward the back room. "Yeah, I think it's definitely time for you to go. Come on."

I clung to him like a lifeline as grief and giddiness battled within me. A part of me hated that he was taking care of me after I'd been so horrible to him, and a part of me loved that we were still such good friends that he needed to make sure I was okay. We ran into Jenny in the back as I was grabbing my stuff.

"What's going on?" she asked cautiously. She didn't seem happy as Denny explained that he was going to take me home. "Oh, well, I told Anna I would drive her after work."

Denny looked over at me. I couldn't stand straight, and I wobbled a bit . . . which made me laugh. "I don't think she can wait that long, Jenny."

Not wanting her to worry, I tossed my arms around her and told her I loved her. She seemed even more worried as I left.

Denny helped me to the Chevelle with a hand on my back. The band was still playing as I dug in my bag for the keys. I felt a little bad that I was missing the end of my going-away bash, and a part of me still wanted to be dancing-but my head was starting to spin. Eyes half-closed, I handed Denny my keys. As he opened the passenger door and helped me sit down, I asked, "What about your car?"

He buckled me in with a smirk on his face. "Don't worry about it right now. I'll get it later. What matters is getting you home safe."

He closed my door then walked around the back to the driver's side. Again, grief washed through me. Why was he so nice to me? I'd done horrible, horrible things to him. I was a horrible, horrible person. Did he really feel so strongly for me that he could look past all of my flaws . . . and still love me?

As he sat down beside me, I immediately asked him just that. "Are you still in love with me? Is that why you're taking care of me?"

Denny's fingers paused on the way to the ignition. He looked over at me, blankness in his eyes. "I don't know how to answer that, Kiera. And I really don't think I should right now." He shook his head and started the car.

I put my hand on his arm, not understanding. "Why?" My world started to tilt, and I exhaled in a long, slow breath.

Denny's eyes studied me for a second before he backed the muscle car out if its space. "Because you're wasted, and I don't want you to get the wrong idea."