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something wrong.
    He had been relieved earlier that evening when Vivian told him she had come back to make amends. They hadn’t mentioned the events leading up to Grace’s death, and he preferred it that way. She was as culpable as he was, though she didn’t seem to wear her guilt the same way he did. Seeing her there, even four years later, reminded him of the careless decision he had made that betrayed everything he and Grace had shared. It was that decision that had ultimately led to her death.
    So when Vivian promised that her college roommate would be joining them later, he had tried not to look so relieved. One hour. He would only have to endure one hour of being alone with Vivian, who looked so much like her sister that his heart ached every time he glanced up from his drink.
    He couldn’t believe that the friend Vivian had spoken of—the one who was supposed to be a blessed distraction from his guilt and his past—was the nightmare of a girl he’d met earlier at the grocery store. What were the odds that she was Vivian’s college roommate?
    “Please, please tell me you’re not friends with this guy,” Alexa said. “He’s a smug, incendiary, two-faced—”
    “He’s Grace’s ex-boyfriend,” Vivian interrupted. “Remember, I told you about Will?”
    “Oh,” Alexa said, and in that moment, she really did look contrite. Will watched her sit down and hand him a napkin from the table. She didn’t meet his eyes, but he knew that look to well—the piteous one that seemed permanently fixed on everyone’s faces when they found out about Grace. He despised that look.
    He snatched the napkin out of her hand, crumpling it in his fist, and tossed it back onto the table.
    Vivian raised her eyebrows. “Obviously, you two need a minute.”
    Alexa opened her mouth to protest, but Vivian was already ducking toward the bar.
    Will slid into his seat across from Alexa, arms crossed as he leaned back and watched her.
    She sighed loudly, her shoulders falling until she was hunched over the table. “I guess I owe you an apology.”
    “Why?" He shrugged, pretending that the thought of Grace didn’t make his entire chest hurt. “Because my girlfriend died four years ago?”
    “No, of course not.” She finally looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time. Her eyes weren’t anything special, at least, not like Jaycee’s. Last night’s date had the kind of eyes that were magnetic, the kind that exhilarated him—and his body. No, Alexa’s eyes were the same, doe-eyed brown that he had seen a million times before. And yet, he couldn’t draw his gaze away.
    “I’m sorry for throwing your drink at you,” she said.
    Will leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. “Is there some reason you hate me so much? Because I’ve had people hate me for a lot of reasons—my money, my looks, my business acumen. You seem to hate me for something else, and I can’t quite figure out what that is.”
    “Your looks?" she scoffed. “That’s exactly why I don’t like you. You’re full of yourself. It’s unattractive.”
    “Unattractive?” Now it was his turn to scoff. He had never had a woman call him unattractive before, and he wasn’t about to let this one do it now. “I can get any woman in this bar to give me her number.”
    She laughed, though he wasn’t sure why. It was a fact, a simple truth—he could take his pick from the women in this club and have their number, not to mention their panties, in under twenty minutes.
    “You want to make a bet over that?” she asked.
    “Pick anyone,” Will said, leaning back in his chair. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening the fold, he tossed the contents onto the table and nodded toward the pile. “Fifteen hundred.”
    She stared at him, something between anger and amusement lingering in her expression. “Fine,” she said, taking the cash. “In that case, I want you to get my number.”
    She folded his money and tucked it into the