“Do you think he ruined you? Do you feel damaged and unloved?”

“Yes.” I exhale and then immediately take a huge gulp of air. “Yes, I think all that stuff.”

“Then why do you want to hide that?”

“Because…”

“Because you think I won’t love you?”

“How can you?”

His brows knit together, his confusion so real, painted so clearly on his face, it sets me back a second. “Jesus, I’m not that shallow, Grace. I am a human being.”

“I didn’t mean it—”

“No,” he says, cutting me off harshly. “Enough with the didn’t mean it bullshit. OK?” his eyes dart back and forth as he searches for my intentions.

What are my intentions? “I just…” I have to swallow hard and look away. “I just… need reassurances.”

He shakes his head. “Try again, sweets. I’m not interested in lies, and maybe you’re not lying to me, but you’re lying to yourself. And if we’re in a relationship, that’s the same thing.”

God, now look what I’ve done. He wants me to face things I’ve pushed away for a decade, and he wants me to do it now. What if he leaves if I can’t do it? What if he walks away?

“Did you have a therapist after you came back?”

“Of course. I still have one.”

“So their plan was to let you deny things? Because that’s a new one for me. I think everyone in Hollywood has at least two therapists on the payroll at all times. It’s just something you do. So I’ve had my share of therapy, and none of them ever let me lie to myself.”

“What is it you think I’m lying about?” God, he’s so confusing. Is this about me or him? Or the way I feel about him? Or the way I feel about myself? I don’t get it.

“What really happened to you?”

I shake my head. “I’m not talking about it.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I laugh. “I’m pretty sure you can figure that out.”

“OK, I’ll figure it out for you then. Because you’re in denial.”

“Believe me, Asher, I’m not in denial.”

“And we’re back to Asher again, are we?”

“Jesus, what the hell do you want from me? You want me to tell you what those eight months were like? Why?” I sit all the way up, between his legs, and rest back on my butt with my legs underneath me. “Why would you want to hear that? Why would you want me to say it?”

He reaches up and strokes my cheek. “I don’t want to know that shit, Grace. I don’t want to know any of it. You’re crazy if you think I want to hear you talk about it. I don’t. But you are mixing up my intentions with that experience. You’re not looking forward. You’re stuck in the past.”

I get up off the lounge chair and walk away.

“Where are you going?” he calls out after me.

“Home.”

He’s up next to me, grabbing me by the upper arm and turning me around. “Grace, running away only makes it worse. Just spit the words out.”

“What fucking words?” I shout.

He cups his hands around my face and leans in for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet. So small, yet so meaningful. “How did you get away, Grace?”

“You heard this part. He dropped me off at a hospital in Nebraska.”

Vaughn lets out a long breath and pulls me into a hug. “I think—and maybe I’m wrong, because I don’t know what happened to you while you were with him—but it must’ve really messed with your head to be so… coveted for so many months and then to just be dropped off like that.”

I push him away. “Are you saying I’m fucked up because he let me go? Oh my God!”

Vaughn holds me tight. “It’s psychology, Grace. It’s a mind fuck, right?”

I push back again, but his arms are all the way around me now. “That’s not what it is. I was grateful he let me go. I thought he was going to kill me.”

“OK. You know better than me, sweets. You were there, I wasn’t. So you know the truth.”

But I know what Vaughn’s saying underneath those words. He’s saying I know the truth, but I won’t accept it.

“Wanna finish Dirty Heaven?” He changes the subject. “Or go out to eat? Or make a sex tape?”

I allow myself to chuckle at that.

“I can think of so many, many ways to let the world know you’re mine, Miss Kinsella. These are but three options for tonight. And you’re not going home tonight, that’s for sure. Tomorrow. I have lots of plans for tomorrow in Denver.”

I melt into his embrace and try not to cry. He can sense my shift and my sadness, because he strokes my head and continues to talk.

“I have so many surprises for you in Denver.”

The soothing rumble of his voice vibrating up from his chest makes my body feel pliant and supple. “I want to go to bed,” I decide. “And watch movies.”

“I have a DVD of IM2. It’s in my contract so I can have private screenings. Wanna watch me be a super anti-hero who doesn’t save the world but leaves it a better place?”

“Oh my God! Do you die?” I’m appalled.

“Hmmm, you think I’ll spoil the ending for you? Pffft. You’re cray-cray.”

I laugh. “Yes, I definitely want to watch IM2.” I pull away so I can look up at his face. “I loved that first movie because you were so unexpected. Did you ever read the book?”