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time."
    "Can't wait," I replied.
    The elevator dinged when we reached the sixth floor. "This is me." Angie walked out into the hall.
    I held the door and followed her lead to room 609. "Right then. Safe and sound." I folded my hands behind my back. I promised I'd be a gentleman. This was not the time to try something, as badly as I wanted to kiss her.
    "Only one lecherous rock star in sight." She grinned and leaned against the door.
    Her smile was like shining a spotlight on a Rembrandt—it brought out her beauty in a way that left me breathless. Abso-bloody-lutely perfect. God she was sexy—an intoxicating combination of clever and gorgeous. Every atom of my body was screaming at me to take her into my arms and kiss the hurt of the last year away, for both of us.
    I gripped Angie's elbow lightly and stepped closer to press my lips to her cheek. I desperately wanted even the smallest sign that she wanted me to do it, and when she tilted her head, it felt like a major victory. My mouth only touched her skin for a moment, although I would've taken any excuse to linger. Everything about that heartbeat of my life was pure torment, the slightest taste of the thing I wanted most, but wasn't sure I'd ever have again. "Good night. I'll see you in the lobby tomorrow morning. Sleep well."
    "Night, Graham. See you tomorrow."
    I dragged myself away from her door, soon hearing the click of the latch. It felt as if I was leaving a chunk of myself behind with her, but then again, it felt like that every time we were apart. I just hadn't realized it until this tour—I hadn't realized it until I'd left home, knowing she wouldn't be waiting when I returned.

Chapter Five
    A ngie
    At least when I was behind the camera, I felt like I knew what I was doing. Last night with Graham had fully illustrated that I didn't always know what I was doing when it came to matters of the heart. If someone had asked me twenty-four hours ago to wager money on whether or not I was over Graham Whiting, I would've laid down a hefty bet on "over". There had been no doubt in my mind. Not a speck of questioning. But I'd failed to form a contingency plan for the two things that could end up being my biggest downfall—the torch Graham was still carrying for me, and his superhuman pull on me.
    His kiss still lingered on my cheek. It nearly made me dizzy when it'd happened. I'd leaned against the door inside my hotel room after he left, brushing my fingers across the spot where he'd pressed his lips. Funny, but Graham and I had never reached the point where a kiss didn't feel special. Even after two years. No—every time he laid one on me, even a small one, the world went topsy turvy.
    Graham and Chris took their seats behind the big boom microphones in the radio studio, massive headphones on. I stood in the background and snapped away with my camera as they chatted with the DJ and started to take phone calls from fans. My dad had taught me well, the art of seeing people for what they are and capturing it all on film. Every amazing candid shot I captured only dug up another memory of last night and the flutter in my stomach when Graham had walked me to my room. How could he still make me feel like that, even after I'd brainwashed myself into thinking he was all wrong? And standing here, taking pictures of him, I couldn't escape the feeling that my heart had somehow missed the memo about being over Graham. It was whispering in my ear that I was missing out.
    And with good reason. Graham was just…there was something about him. If anyone was born to be a rock star, he was, burning so much brighter than a normal person. One smile from him and the rest of the world seemed to stop. One clever quip and the masses were laughing. Same could be said for Chris, both of them the sort of guy who walks into a room and makes everything come alive. The sort of guy who makes you feel like you're the luckiest girl on the planet if you get even a sliver of his attention. Being in the