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“You took hours.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” I closed my eyes and shook my head, secretly enjoying how much he wanted me.

“No. What’s ridiculous is how fucking crazy I am about you still. Even after all these years. The moment I saw you in the dark with that sparkly thing on your head, all of these buried emotions came rushing back. It’s cheesy and I sound like a girl, but it’s the truth. I’ve never once forgotten about you. Not completely.” He blew out a breath. “And now that you’re back in my life, I don’t plan on letting you get away from me again.”

“There’s so much we don’t know about each other,” I admitted, one of my fears working its way to the surface. What if he’s not the same? What if I don’t like who he’s become? What if he doesn’t like me the way he thinks he does?

“That’s true. But I want to get to know every single thing about you, to hear about every moment I’ve missed. I want inside your brain, your thoughts, your heart, your pants.”

A loud laugh ripped from my chest at his last want. “You would.”

“I’m male.”

“I’m aware.”

“So, when can I see you?”

I smiled, my heart skipping a beat with his words. “Tomorrow. I’ll come to you.”

“Tomorrow can’t come soon enough. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Before I could respond, he added, “And Madison, don’t overthink this. Okay? Don’t overthink us or our situation or our past. Just listen to your feelings and don’t try to stop them with logic. Promise me that.”

How the hell could he be so in tune with me already? Maybe he was that good with women in general and I was just overly typical? Whatever it was, he was right on the money.

“I promise.”

“Good. Now go to sleep and then get your sweet ass over here.”

I huffed out, “You sure are bossy. I don’t remember you being so bossy when we were teenagers.”

His voice lowered to practically a growl. “I’m not bossy, I just know what I want. You’re lucky I’m not outside your door right now begging you to let me in. You’re lucky I’m willing to wait until tomorrow to see you.”

“Fame’s changed you,” I said with a laugh.

“No, it hasn’t. Good night, Sparkles.” My phone lit up and I pulled it away from my face to see that he had ended the call.

He acted so sure, so determined, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t completely turned on by it all. Walker was so different from any of the other guys I dated in the past. They all acted like they were trying to be what you wanted them to be, or they put up such a fake front it was almost sickening to be around.

There was nothing fake about Walker Rhodes. The question was, what was I going to do about it?

I woke up bright and early the next morning, my body’s natural alarm clock prodding me awake, used to getting up at this ungodly hour for work. My mind raced with thoughts about how I shouldn’t be heading over to Walker’s house; instead, I should be spending my time looking for a new job.

I sucked in a long, cleansing breath and slowly released it, determined to ignore logic for today. Allowing myself one day of reprieve to spend with Walker before I started hunting for a new job wouldn’t be a bad thing. I could survive that.

The shrill reminder beep of my cell phone diverted my attention. Who texted this early in the morning?

Are you awake yet?

I smiled immediately before I noted the time. Walker had sent me this text message over an hour ago. Didn’t the guy ever sleep? Pressing my head against my pillow, I pulled the covers up to my chest and snuggled back into place. I groggily pressed in Walker’s number and waited as excited nerves ticked through me.

“Finally,” he breathed into the phone.

“It’s six in the morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep. Are you coming over? Do you want me to come get you?”

“I’ll come to you. Text me the directions.”

Following the directions Walker sent me, my thoughts bounced the entire time between getting lost and not getting there soon enough. I turned left at the signal light near one of the most popular beach entrances in Malibu, and headed around the bend in the road, passing the public beach on the right and cliffs fronted with restaurants on the left. My car headed up a steep and winding cliff road before reaching the flattened top.

Glancing to my right, I took a moment to appreciate the breathtaking ocean view. This was the kind of view that dreams were made of. Very expensive dreams.

I drove slowly down the street, passing houses on either side of the road. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was in a regular suburban neighborhood. But I did know better. The address Walker provided came into view and I put on my blinker, pulling into the gated driveway. Punching in the code he’d given me onto a large silver keypad, I watched as the black iron gates sprang to life, opening wide before I sped in.

Walker was standing on his porch waiting for me, and my stomach flipped at the sight of him. Keeping my eyes on the circular drive, I pulled to a stop in front of a ranch-style single-story home. It was beautiful in its simplicity. Just like his concert had been.

After I put my car in park and set the emergency brake, Walker opened my door for me and reached for my hand to help me out. I looked up at him, my eyes wide as I stood up and said, “Wow. It’s beautiful.” Pivoting in the driveway, I took in the gardens surrounding the house and the fountain in front of the entryway.

“Wait until you see the view.” He smiled like a little boy and pulled me through the front door.

Glass windows stretched from floor to ceiling, allowing for an unobstructed view of the water and the Catalina Islands. It was breathtaking and I stopped mid-step to let it all sink in. Just yesterday morning I was fighting with my boss, certain I had killed my career, and now I was in Walker’s beautiful beach home, thankful I wasn’t anywhere else. When he pulled his long-sleeved shirt off, revealing a tight T-shirt underneath, I was even more thankful.

“Do you like it?” he asked, meaning the view, but in my mind I currently had two things of beauty to look at.

“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. I’d never want to leave.”

He stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around me as I pressed my back against his chest. “You don’t have to.” Then he kissed the side of my neck, and I suppressed at shiver at the tingles his touch gave me.

Pulling away from me, he said simply, “Sit,” so I made myself comfortable on the nearest sofa. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water, soda?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

The cushion next to me shifted with Walker’s weight as he sat. “We haven’t even talked about your job yet and what happened yesterday. I want to hear everything.”

Walker’s cell phone rang and he glanced down at the flashing screen before excusing himself to answer it. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.”

“Of course,” I responded as he pushed up from the couch and stepped out into his backyard.

I sat alone in the living room, scanning the framed pictures on his mantel and the artwork on his walls. Curious, I got up and walked over to the fireplace to inspect the framed black-and-white photos. One of Walker and his mom backstage at one of his concerts made me smile, and I fought back sudden tears. She looked so happy.

There were pictures of him with his friends, his family, other singers and musicians, and a small four-by-six photo of him and me as teenagers in the sand. I had completely forgotten his mom took our picture that summer. Walker stood holding his surfboard at his side, his other arm wrapped around my waist. I was looking up at him like there was no one in the world I loved more. And at the time, there wasn’t. His head was angled down toward me as well, the smirk on his lips saying it all. He had been in love with me too. Sure, we were just kids then, but what we shared that summer had been as real as it got at the time.