My throat went that horrible, scratchy kind of dry. In some strange way, I felt transported back in time to that fateful night on the plane. He'd found a way to hold me as we'd kissed, sitting in the cramped aisle, despite the armrest separating us. He'd held me almost the same way that he was holding me right then in the hallway. Only this time, we weren't making out until we were out of breath. We were simply standing in an office hallway, holding each other, lost in a trance in each other's gaze. Yet, somehow, it felt the same level of incredible to me, and that scared me to death.

"I should probably head out now."

I started to pull away, but Jesse caught my arm and stopped me. Hesitantly, I turned around to face him again.

"We need to talk," he said softly.

I was fighting to ignore the tingles that were dancing up my arm from his touch. The feeling was distracting, making it hard to focus. And then there was his face. I was staring passed him down the hall. I couldn't look at him. I knew that once I looked into his eyes, I was done for.

I shook my head and pulled out of his grasp. "There's nothing to talk about, Jesse. I need to head home. I've spent enough time here today."

He followed me into my office and stood in the doorway, probably blocking my exit on purpose while he watched me gather my things and turn off the music.

"Vanessa, you can't avoid this conversation forever."

His words were calm, yet judging. He was nicely trying to put me in my place. I was surprised he wasn't pissed at me for constantly trying to dodge the subject. Surely, my avoidance was wearing at his patience by now, but he didn't show it. Maybe he was trying to make me feel more comfortable by seeming relaxed, himself. Whatever his reasoning, though, it wasn't working. I was the furthest thing from comfortable with this stupid subject.

"Watch me," I declared and marched over to him, planning to push him out of my path and waltz out of the office like I'd just won a battle of wits.

But my plan backfired when he didn't move. I quickly discovered that trying to push Jesse Reese out of the way was like trying to shove a pile of bricks aside. It wasn't going to happen. So I opted for plan B and attempted to slip passed him out the door. Again, I was halted when he reached a strong arm in front of me and wrapped it around my torso, gently ushering me back into the room.

"What do you want, Jesse?" I grumbled, glaring up at him. "Why can't you just forget about our history and pretend it never happened so that I can go home?"

He cocked a brow, both perplexed and amused at my frustration, and that just pissed me off more. What gave him the right to stand there looking like perfection and judge me? He didn't know my reasons.

And he won't know them until you tell him, my conscience nagged.

"I guess I don't get why we can't talk about it just once, Vanessa," he replied with sincere confusion. "Help me understand. Why are you so hell bent on treating 'us' like it never happened?"

Some part of my brain had gotten the idea that he'd simply been enjoying tormenting me with the subject, but now I knew that to be untrue. He was genuinely confused about why I was acting the way I had been. Even more frustrating for me was the realization that I did owe him an explanation. Jesse hadn't done anything wrong. There was no excuse for me to treat him like he had.

I huffed and set my purse down on the floor beside my desk. I gave in to the idea that we could talk about it just this once and then I would never have to deal with it again. I told myself to stop dragging it out and just get the damn conversation over with. The longer I waited, the bigger headache it would be.

"Fine." I raised my hands and sat down at one of my guest chairs, gesturing for him to come over. "I surrender. You win."

Jesse pursed his lips in thought and waited a moment before leaving his spot in the doorway and joining me in the other guest chair.

There was an awkward silence before either of us spoke, like we were daring each other to make the first move. I was mentally preparing to word vomit an entire explanation when Jesse opened his mouth.

"Tell me why you don't want to acknowledge our history," he said, crossing his ankles and leaning back in the chair.

He appeared relaxed while I was all jittery, anxious for our talk to be over with.

I cleared my throat a couple times and adjusted myself in my seat. There was no easy way to go about this, so I decided to go with my original idea and word vomit it all.

"If I'm being totally honest, I don't want to remember what happened between us because I don't want to get involved with another man again. I'm terrified that acknowledging our kiss-"

"Make out."

"Whatever," I groaned. "...will potentially cause something to happen between us, and I can't afford to let that happen."

Jesse's brows drew inward and he scrunched up his nose, staring at the floor while he thought about my answer. Then he looked at me and shook his head.

"You're scared of commitment, aren't you?"

Hell yes, I am!

"Does it matter what my reasoning is?" I asked quietly. "The point is that I don't want anything romantic to happen between us, and I've felt like as long as I could avoid this conversation, everything would go according to that plan. It's as simple as that, Jesse."

He shook his head again. "But it's not. You're not telling me everything."

"What makes you say that?" I challenged, trying to sound confident.

"Reading people is part of how I make my living, Vanessa. And I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you're a very easy person to read."

And then he smirked. Smirked! The audacity! He was enjoying tormenting me!

"If I'm so easy to read, then tell me what you think my reasoning is, oh wise one."

I crossed my arms and waited, tapping my foot on the floor expectantly. I was sure he was bluffing.

Jesse chuckled and nodded, scooting to the edge of his seat and resting his elbows against his knees. He stared into my eyes like he was studying my brain, and for a fleeting moment, I almost entertained the idea that he could read my mind, but that sounded utterly ridiculous.

"Let's see... You probably haven't had a lot of experience in relationships. I'm going to guess you've only slept with one or two men. You probably only had one serious boyfriend, someone you planned on marrying. He probably cheated on you or dumped you over something fucked up. Whatever the reason, he broke your heart. You went through the complete emotional rollercoaster and now, because of that one failed relationship, you refuse to get involved with anyone else because you're too afraid that it will end up the same way."

When he finished, he sat back in the chair and rested his clasped hands in his lap, eyeing me pointedly, waiting for a response. I knew he knew he was right, but I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want him to be right. The way he had said it had made me feel like I was being childish. Maybe I was, but I sure didn't think so. I thought my reasons were very valid. There were plenty of women who had gone through the same shit I'd been through and had the same reasons as me for not wanting to get involved again.

"I guess you are good at reading people..." I mumbled, averting his stare. "Can we call it a night now?"

Jesse ignored my question and leaned forward again. "Just because we shared a really incredible moment three years ago doesn't mean anything would become of it now, Vanessa. I understand why you wanted to pretend it didn't happen, but I also think you've been letting yourself worry unnecessarily."

His words were soft and gentle. He was trying so hard to nicely tell me my fears had been blown out of proportion in my head. I disagreed, but I appreciated that he was trying to be so sweet about it rather than harshly telling me I was wrong.

Brad never took the calm approach to telling me things the way Jesse did. This was entirely new to me.

"Okay," was all I could think to say. I felt numb.

"I only wanted to understand. Nothing more." He ran a steady hand through his hair and I wondered how he could remain so at ease no matter what the conversation was about. "If you want to go back to pretending it never happened, I'll oblige and never bring it up again. I respect how you feel, Vanessa. I do. But I'm sure you can understand why I was confused, too."

I nodded slowly, still eyeing the perfectly polished floor. "I can."

He didn't say anything and I assumed he was waiting for me to continue. When I finally looked at him again, he'd lounged back in the chair with his arms folded behind his head and he was staring up at the ceiling.

"I've been meaning to get that light fixed." He referenced the single flickering bulb among the multitude of steady lights. "I think I've kept you long enough. You should go home and rest up for the trip."

With that said, he combed his fingers through his hair again and stood up, his tall frame towering over me for a moment before he bid me a good night and left my office, his transient footsteps heading in the direction of his own.

I couldn't bring myself to move or speak. It was as if our discussion had drained so much of my energy. And that damn night on the airplane kept replaying in my head again. I had hoped that after we'd talked about it, the nagging memory would go poof and I wouldn't be thinking about it anymore. But there I was, taken back to New Year's Eve and the feeling of his arms wrapping around me and his soft lips brushing against mine. In the background was the countdown to midnight, but I couldn't bring myself to pay attention to anything but the man I was kissing like we were in some epic finale to a Disney movie and he was the handsome prince and I was the princess he'd just saved from the dragon. I'd never experienced a more fairytale-esque kiss in my entire life. Truth be told, I was sure I would never feel those fireworks again with any other man as long as I lived.

And that's when it dawned on me that part of the reason I hadn't dated or fucked or even kissed another man since Jesse was because I was certain that no other man could ever top the mind blowing feelings Jesse had given me. It would be like having wine after drinking whiskey. I doubted anyone else could give me that fire, that all-encompassing yearning for one person. How could I settle for anything less after having had the best?

I couldn't tell Jesse any of that, though. He would probably write me off as some love struck crazy woman.

Swallowing my discomfort, I sucked in a deep breath and forced myself to stand up. I took another look around my office and nodded to myself in satisfaction. It looked really good! I was proud of my hard work, and Erica's and Aly's, too, of course. I wondered what Jesse thought of the transformation, but quickly dismissed that thought.

I went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. Looking in the mirror, I was pleasantly surprised to see that my face wasn't as flushed as it felt. Giving myself a quick pep talk, I straightened my posture and smoothed my semi messy hair, and then I headed back down the hall toward Jesse's office.

When I knocked on his doorframe, he looked up from his desk with a confused expression, but motioned for me to come in.

"You're still here," he said as more of a statement than a question.

"I am." I slowly entered the room, unable to take my eyes off of his. "I didn't want to leave before I apologized to you."

He arched a brow as he retrieved a folder from his filing cabinet and set it aside on his desk. He rested his hands on his hips in a relaxed manner and eyed me like he didn't know what to say next, so I continued.

"I felt like I owed you an apology for all the avoidance and being a pain in the ass about it."

Jesse's confusion morphed into a grin and he did that wonderful, contagious laugh again. The laugh that made me want to kiss him every time I heard it...

He stepped around his desk toward me and it felt like there was some kind of magnetic pull dragging me closer to him, too. I took a step forward, almost closing the distance. There were only a couple feet between us and you could cut the tension with a knife.

"Vanessa, I get why you didn't want to talk about it, and I get how you feel. You don't owe me an apology or anything else. And I promise I won't bring it up again," he said so sincerely that my heart may have literally skipped a beat or two.

"Thank you for being so nice about this..."

"Of course." He flashed that knee-weakening smile. "Can I just ask you one question, though, before you leave?"

"Sure."

Jesse inched closer and I could smell a wonderful combination of his intoxicating cologne and the mint on his breath as he spoke.

"Do you still want to kiss me?"