“Lilla, what are you doing?” I say as she comes up behind me at the gallery and starts fixing my hair around my shoulders.

“I just want you to look your best.” She glances up at the clock. “You need to make sure you keep showing off these gorgeous waves in your hair.”

“You already made me leave work an hour early so I could get a blowout at your favorite salon,” I say. “Not to mention, for lunch, you took me to the mall and wouldn’t let us leave until I’d tried on every dress in the store, and bought the most fitted one available. You called it my good luck dress.”

I look down at the little black dress that comes to mid-thigh and somehow manages to highlight all my curves while still giving off a professional vibe.

“And it’s all working.” Lilla beams as she gestures to the surprisingly decent-sized crowd at the gallery. “Look how much attention your sculptures are getting.”

As soon as I had set everything up, Lilla made sure to look at all my sculptures and give her assessments—

“Awesome. Great. Perfect.” She ticked off one compliment after another as she pointed at each of my pieces.

I laughed, but as the evening wore on, Theresa passed by several times and whispered in my ear that a few of the pieces were attracting a lot of interest.

Yes, my first show has been amazing. To have interested buyers is something I didn’t imagine happening for years. And Theresa was so incredibly helpful—from her suggestions of how to set up my sculptures and where to attach the titles—she’s been nothing but great.

Only one thing is missing.

Him.

I fiddle sadly with the home necklace still around my neck.

“That looks perfect with your dress,” Lilla says with an approving nod.

“I need to stop wearing it,” I say to her. “The message behind it is long dead.”

The door swings open then, and my stomach flips into a million cartwheels.

Lilla giggles next to me. “Oh, I wouldn’t say dead, my dear. Not yet.”

My breath catches in my throat.

Dylan Wild is here.

I haven’t seen him since he escorted me out of his house over a week ago. For a moment, I just stand and stare at him. Take him in.

God, he looks amazing. His hair is damp like he just got out of the shower, and his gray jacket and pants fit him perfectly. I want to rip off his suit jacket and throw my arms around him.

Dylan glances around the room until he spots me practically hiding behind Lilla. He runs his gaze down my body and back up, finally coming to a stop when his eyes meet mine. The way he puts his attention on me always makes me feel like I matter to somebody else for the first time ever.

But make no mistake—I’m far from the only one who noticed him walk in. Dylan Wild can take over a room without even trying. Heads turn in his direction, and I hear immediate murmurs of recognition.

None of that seems to affect him. His gaze never leaves mine, and the way he strides toward me with utter confidence and disregard for the roomful of eyes on him—it’s sexy as all hell.

He greets Lilla first. They share some kind of look I can’t read, and then he turns to me.

“Hey, Jasalie.”

My voice comes out shakier than I’d like it to. “Hi, Dylan.”

His eyes rove over my face like he’s desperate for the sight of me. “I like your hair that way.”

I can feel Lilla practically convulse with joy next to me.

“Oh.” I pat at the blond waves awkwardly. “Thank you. Professionally done,” I add. “Meaning you’ll probably never see my hair look this good again. It’s normally so straight, and Lilla thought…”

Lilla elbows me hard in the ribs, and I immediately shut up.

Why did I just talk for so long about hair?

He gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations on the opening. This is phenomenal.”

My skin tingles where his lips touched me. I fidget on my feet and try to sound relaxed when I answer him. “You helped me get here. You’re the one who encouraged me to go into business for myself.”

His eyes glimmer with an unnamed emotion. “You did all this by yourself, Jasalie. I’m so proud of you.”

And just like that, Dylan Wild renders me speechless. It’s like the first time we met up in Tucson—I cannot think of a single thing to say.

Lilla takes one look at my face and plunges forward. “Jase has taken her stuff around town, and she’s already found a couple of homes for it. She’s got a new job working here in this cool Malibu gallery, and she’s going to live in the owner’s guesthouse.”

Which makes me closer to you.

Dylan’s eyes burn into mine. “I’m really happy for you. You deserve it.”

I inhale as Theresa comes up to us and takes my arm. She wants me to come speak with a last potential buyer. “And then you can exhale,” she says to me with a quick smile at Dylan. “I want to keep all your pieces out through tomorrow anyway, so you won’t need to pack up tonight.”

“Have a look around if you want,” I say to Dylan. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She’s still wearing it.

Jasalie is still wearing the necklace I gave her in Tucson.

My heart pounds with emotion as I try with everything I have to remain calm on the outside.

I didn’t know what to expect when I decided to come here tonight. I thought she might throw me out, refuse to speak to me, or yell in my face, all of which I clearly deserved.

But while she covered it up quickly, her first reaction when we made eye contact was…happiness.

Her cheeks flushed with color, and her face lit up. And the cracks in my heart started to heal.

God, she looks so damn beautiful. Her gray eyes still hold a million times more wisdom than I feel like I’ll learn in a lifetime. Her pink lips are parted with interest. She’s curious why I’m here. And I’m holding onto my self-control with everything I have.

I try my best to stay polite and casual, but I can’t stand around and make small talk with Jasalie Gordon. I’ve got a lump in my throat the size of France from finally seeing her again, and the pain of what I did is rushing back in waves. All I want to do is take her in my arms and tell her everything.

“Have a look around if you want,” she says to me. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I watch as she turns to walk away with the gallery owner, and I have to shove my hands into my pockets to stop myself from reaching out to touch her one more time.

Once Jasalie’s moved out of earshot, Lilla smirks at me. “You ca-a-ame. Yay!” Her excitement is infectious, and I smile at her.

“Thanks for taking a chance and telling me where she’d be,” I say.

“You better not blow it,” she warns me. “You swore I wouldn’t regret telling you.”

“You won’t,” I promise her. “I came exactly when you said to, fifteen minutes before closing. I hope it wasn’t too early.”

“Nope,” she assures me. “This is perfect timing. I know Jasalie would want you to see the show. That’s why I said to come before it was over.” She gives me a second look. “You okay? You seem kind of tense.”

I nod quickly. “I’m fine.”

I’m not fine.

From the moment I stepped into the gallery and saw Jasalie for the first time since I pushed her out of my life, I’ve been holding on with bare restraint to my impulses. All I want to do is drop to my knees and beg her to forgive me. All I crave is her lips on mine. All I need is her in my arms, telling me she still believes in us.

But I can’t do any of that because it would be selfish. Jasalie deserves this gallery show so much, and the last thing I’m going to do is interrupt her night.

I’m incredibly proud of her and of what she’s accomplished since I last saw her. I’m also not surprised in the least, however, not like she seems to be. I know how talented she is. I knew it as soon as I saw her first sculpture. She’s got that thing, that “it factor” with her art, and I was sure if she only dropped her cover and let others in, they’d see it, too.

I wander away from Lilla and through the one-room gallery. I pause in front of each and every one of Jasalie’s pieces as I simultaneously study her artwork and the hand-written titles placed above the sculptures.

The words “A Mother’s Love” sits above a sculpture of a pregnant woman. I haven’t seen this piece before, and given Jasalie’s background, the sentiment takes me by surprise. It also makes me curious if she ended up going back to Tucson yet.

A few paces to the left, the title “Hard to Breathe, Hard to Live” hangs above a sculpture of a man looking like he desperately needs air. That one is new to me, too.

Then I reach a familiar sculpture. I freeze when I read the title.

“Worth the Risk.”

Fuck. Does that mean…is she saying—

“That’s the one I sculpted of you.”

Her soft voice cuts through my thoughts, and I turn to face Jasalie. She’s not looking at me but at the clay figure below the placard.

I swallow hard.

Worth the Risk.

She mistakes my silence. “Maybe you don’t remember…”

“Of course I remember.” My voice comes out gruff, and I turn back to look at the sculpture. “But it’s all painted and everything.”

“I know.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “I painted it green and red for two reasons: the colors of the Cougars, and those colors symbolize heart and passion. The two things you showed me most.”

I touch the sculpture lightly with my finger. “It’s amazing. The colors, all of it.”

Shocking the hell out of me, her soft hand covers mine. “This is the only piece here that’s not for sale. Once the show is over, it’s yours. So you’ll always remember your essence.”

“Jasalie…”

We turn to face each other, but she puts her finger to my lips to silence me. “No matter what happened between us at the end, Dylan, you’re the reason I had the courage to start my own business, and you’re the reason I had the idea in the first place, so I wanted to thank you for that.”

“Worth the risk,” I say to her. “Listen, I really wanted to explain to you…”

She cuts me off before I can continue. “I truly believe that we were worth the risk to each other even if you don’t,” she says.

My phone starts vibrating in my pocket, and I ignore it as I take her face in my hands. “Jasalie. You are worth every risk to me. I want to punch myself that I ever let you think otherwise.”

Her eyes widen.

“You were right, about everything you said,” I say. “That day, when Tim called and told me about the threat, I didn’t think about anything but how to keep you safe. I went into terror, and I made all my decisions from that space. I realize now that I can’t live my life from a place of fear. I need to live it from a place of love.”

I take something out of my pocket and put it into her hand. “This is for you. I have so much more I want to say to you, but I don’t want to screw up your big night.”

She looks down at the small bronze key resting in her open palm. “What is this?”

“It’s a key to the house in Malibu.” I shift my gaze to her necklace. “You already have the key to my heart.”

Tears fill her eyes, but I shake my head. “Like I said, the last thing I want to do is throw you off. I’ll wait for you” —I start to back toward the door—“call me when you’re free, and I’ll meet you wherever you like.”

She nods slowly. “Dylan…”

“I love you, Jasalie,” I say softly. “I’m so sorry that I ever broke your trust in me, but I want you to know that I’ll wait for you, and I don’t give up easily. So take all the time that you need. Just know that I’m always here if you need me.”

I turn away and walk across the gallery. I wave at Lilla and then disappear out the door.

Once I’m outside, I walk a few feet past the open windows of the gallery and lean up against the stone wall.

Worth the risk.

She never gave up on me. On us.

All I can do now is pray that I’m not too late in telling her I never gave up either.

My phone, which hasn’t stopped buzzing since it started inside the gallery, is vibrating through my pants. I pull the phone out and glance at the screen.

“Shit,” I say out loud. “I guess that’s some sort of weird karmic timing.”

Before I can decide what to do next, the skies open up, and it starts pouring.

Dylan left. He gave me a key, bared his heart, and then he just…left.

I can’t let him go like that.

Theresa and Lilla are huddled together with big smiles on their faces.

“Don’t even think of asking if you need to stay,” Theresa says to me as I approach them. “The last customer just departed.”

I glance around the room. Sure enough, the gallery is suddenly empty for the first time tonight.

“Looks like you have a man to meet,” Theresa continues with a wink. “So don’t let us hold you back, honey. Go get him.”

I look at Lilla. “Did you tell him where I’d be tonight?”

“Of course I told him!” she says happily. “He called me at his wit’s end. So go get your happily ever after, Ms. Gordon. And remember, we’re in Hollywood, so make it a good one!”

I hug Lilla tightly before turning and rushing out the front door.

I don’t count on the absolutely pouring rain that hits me in the eyes as soon as I step outside. I look from left to right, but the streets are empty.

Then I see a lone figure leaning up against the wall of the building a few feet away.

“Dylan!” I call out to him.

He looks up. “Jasalie, wait. You’re going to get soaked—”

But I’m already running toward him.

As soon as I reach him, he pulls me underneath the awning he’s been standing under. Then he takes my hand and leads me down the alley by the gallery where a lone town car is parked.

“I was driven here,” he explains to me as he opens the back door and ushers me inside. “At least this way we can talk out of the rain.”

He nods to the driver in the front seat. “We’re not ready to go anywhere yet, Richard. Why don’t you get some dinner on me?”

Richard’s already grabbing his umbrella. “Sounds fine, Mr. Wild. Just call me when you’re ready.”

As soon as Richard’s gone, Dylan raises the partition between the driver’s seat and us.

“For extra privacy,” he explains to me. “And the windows are tinted.”

“No one can see in?” I ask him.

“No. Not that there’s anyone outside right now. People in Los Angeles kind of hate the rain.”

I laugh. Rain water is still all over my hair and face. This isn’t exactly how I would have scripted it. And I’m not sure where to begin.

Dylan hands me some tissues from the console, and I dry my face quickly before facing him. His gaze travels hungrily over my body and then across my face. “I’ve missed you, Jasalie.” He swallows. “I did it to myself, but God, I missed you.”

“Dylan. I appreciate the key so much.”

His face flushes. “I’m glad,” he murmurs.

I clear my throat. “I’ve been trying to…you know…be worthy of this.”

His eyes burn into mine. “You’re already worthy, Jasalie. You don’t need to pass some test to deserve love. I’m the one who fucked everything up. Please, please don’t blame yourself.”

“I’m not blaming myself,” I say, feeling like my words are coming out all wrong. “I only meant that there was a part of me that needed the time apart. As brutally painful as it was to be away from you, I had some things I needed to do on my own. And it’s almost like, if I’d been with you, I may not have done them the way I did them. Does that make sense?”

“Completely,” he says, his eyes softening.

“For starters, I went and saw my mom this week,” I say, surprising myself.

His eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yep. I drove to Tucson. Dale followed me the whole way.” I cock my head at Dylan and lift an eyebrow.

He smiles. “I told you I was going to make sure you stayed safe.”

“I know. And I am safe. I gave my mom the check. She cried.”

“That’s amazing.” He furrows his brow. “Are you okay? I mean how was it seeing her?”

“It was…it was so difficult. I tried to leave five minutes after I’d gotten there. But, thanks to my stupid little habit of locking my keys in my car…”

Dylan’s mouth quirks up. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah,” I say. “So I was forced to remain with her for another hour and a half. And, looking back, I’m grateful for that time.”

“Wow.” Dylan touches my cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”“And she gave me the address for my biological father. So the next day, I went and saw him, too. Met him for the first time.”

“Shit.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know that I’d have the guts to do something like that. It took a lot of courage.”

Before I can say anything, he speaks again.

“I told Dante off,” Dylan says abruptly.

“You—”

“And my brother. And my dad. Plus, I fired Tim. After this year, I’m going with a new agent.”

“Oh. Wow.”

“I didn’t fight with any of them,” he says. “I just said I deserve respect. I couldn’t have done that before I knew you.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” he says. “Celebrity can be a protection, a backup. At least, it certainly was for me. And I’ve hidden behind that for years.”

I bite my lip and look at him.

“You showed me the door,” he says. “And I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”

“I appreciate you telling me that,” I say in a near-whisper.

“I have something else to say, Jasalie.” Dylan reaches for my knee and he squeezes it gently. “I’m going to be seeing someone.”

“What?” I freeze. “You came here to tell me that you’re seeing someone else…”

“No, no. That came out really wrong.” Dylan closes his eyes for a second. When he reopens them, he speaks quickly. “A therapist. Psychologist. I don’t exactly know what her credentials are. She was recommended to me, but I haven’t talked to her yet.”

“You’re going to see a therapist?”

His eyes are vulnerable. “I thought you should know. What happened when Tim told me about the threat, the way I reacted—I still have some healing to do from when Annabella…”

“I get it,” I say immediately. “And I’m proud of you for taking that step. You don’t have to explain, Dylan.”

“I do,” he says fervently. “Because I didn’t realize I’d gone back into this well of pain, and that I was making shitty decisions from that place. I never should have pushed you away, and if I had the moment to do over, I would have handled it much differently. So I’m going to see someone about it because I don’t want to rely on my own self-promises. I can’t. I want you back in my life—on a permanent basis—and I need to make sure I’ve truly let go of any old crap so that I don’t fuck this up again if—you know, if my job brings more drama.”

Relief floods my body. “You’ve really thought about this.”

His hands go around my waist. “Yes. You know why? You’re always worth the risk, Jasalie. Always.”

My heart rises into my throat.

“I didn’t know how to protect you so I threw up a shield to stop you from fighting for us. I hated myself as soon as you called me out because I’ve never told such a lie. You’re worth more to me than anything, or anyone, ever. I’m so sorry about hurting you.”

“The thing is, Dylan Wild.” My voice cracks with emotion. “I forgive you. And I love you.”

His hands tighten on my hips.

“I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before. Including myself. But I’m working on that because I can’t be much good to you without it.”

Dylan pulls me onto his lap, and I keep talking into his ear.