Chapter 1

Happy New Year

My hands felt clammy and slightly cold. I knew I wasn't getting sick, so it had to be nerves. I looked down at my gnawed fingernails and sighed. Yes, definitely nerves. Tucking my book of poems into the side pocket of my backpack, I slid the plastic curtain up and looked out the tiny airplane portal. It was hard to make out, but off in the distance a faint glimmer lit the densely dark sky—our destination. I still couldn't believe this was happening. If you had told me two months ago I'd be on a plane to London, I would have never believed you.

I gave the invitation to spend New Year's with Ryan absolutely no thought. I don't make spontaneous decisions. I mean . . . I go with my gut but generally my gut doesn't lead me across an ocean for a guy. But Ryan wasn't just some guy. We met almost a year ago, and I knew on that first day we had something. Everyone called it "chemistry." I guess that word fits, but really what we have is more complicated. It's like a magnetic pull we have for each other that is impossible to fight. Trust me, I've tried. He throws me off, yet centers me at the same time. I gave up trying to define our relationship to the countless friends, fans, and media that have clamored for an answer since we met. What I can tell you is this: three weeks ago he and I were only friends, but now things have shifted.

Life for us is exciting, yet at times difficult to navigate. We rely on one another in ways most people can't understand. Last year we were cast in a low-budget movie called The Journey, which we both thought was an independent film. Turns out we were wrong. The movie literally blew up overnight into a blockbuster, propelling Ryan and I into a full-fledged media blitz, the likes of which haven't been seen since the Beatles. Dealing with sudden fame and its pressures has been challenging. Although I'm confident, I'm often awkward and at times unable to handle the rush of attention thrust upon me. Yet through it all, I've done my best to maintain my sanity and integrity while staying true to who I am. And I've done all that with Ryan by my side.

"Excuse me, would you like a beverage? It's the last call," the flight attendant said, snapping me back to attention. "Yes, I would love a Coke. Thanks," I said with a pop of my knuckles. I loved Drew for thinking ahead and booking a first-class ticket. Los Angeles to London was a long flight. I reclined my seat and shuffled through my iPod, trying to find something relaxing.

I'm nineteen, and since The Journey stuff exploded, flying intimidates me a little. I was pretty sure I made it through LAX unnoticed. The fans were great, but since our movie premiered, the paparazzi had become insanely ridiculous. The stalkerazzi (my nickname for all scumbag photographers) have been hounding me since they caught Ryan and me together last summer. Sure we were outside of the infamous Chateau Marmont, but nothing was going on between us—at least nothing we were acting on. When I was seeing my ex-boyfriend Chris, their constant made-up stories and half-truths planted a seed of doubt in him that couldn't be mended. He wasn't able to handle my independence and the success of the movie, so we ended our three-year relationship a month ago. His jealousy and controlling ways tore us apart long before he cheated. That said, the paparazzi didn't make my transition into the limelight easy for either one of us.

"Attention ladies and gentlemen! Please fasten your seatbelts. We are beginning our descent." Hearing the announcement, my stomach lurched, and I could feel myself starting to sweat. I knew I didn't have anything to be nervous about. Ryan and I had spent a lot of time together, traveling the world and watching our lives change before our very eyes. We had become best friends and each other's rock. I just needed to stay calm and trust in Ryan that everything would be okay.

I secured my hoodie over my head, cranked my iPod, and locked my ear buds safely into my ears before exiting the plane at Heathrow Airport. The music was merely a precaution and distraction from the shouting photographers. I realized it would create the perfect escape from their howling voices and rude comments. I just prayed their attack ended at the airport, and they wouldn't find out where I was headed. Walking quickly, I exited through baggage claim. Ryan told me he would be meeting me himself, but I had no idea what to expect. I couldn't see him standing outside waiting, exposing us to massive paparazzi or media scrutiny.

Two seconds after I cleared the main doors, I saw him. His car was pulled to the curb, and he quickly rolled down the window and motioned me over. Clutching my duffle bag, I hustled over and climbed into the back of his SUV. Once I was securely inside and the door shut, he turned around from the passenger seat and greeted me with the biggest grin ever. He looked good, even with a completely full beard. His light brown hair was longer than before. Yet it still managed to not lay flat and sprouted in several directions. His blue eyes sparkled and creased the corners of his face. I met his smile with my own and reached out for his hand. He took it and squeezed lightly.

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered.

"Me too," I grinned, relieved to admit it finally.

I pulled my hood off my head getting comfortable for the ride.

"Your hair is lighter."

I nodded yes and grinned, feeling pleased that he'd noticed I'd lightened my previously black "Anna" locks to a reddish brown—a color more my own. We held each other's gaze with what felt like an unspoken moment of promise. Then the "ahem" of a throat clearing made me realize someone else was with us.

"Kat, you remember Lisa, my sister?"

"Of course. It's great to see you again. Thanks for picking me up at this insane hour. I was actually nervous about riding with Ryan. He talks all the time about what a horrible driver he is. He has me convinced my life will be in jeopardy if he's ever behind the wheel," I joked.

She laughed with me. "You are correct. Ryan is a holy terror behind the wheel." Turning to Ryan, she asked, "Do you even have a permit?"

"Of course," he howled. "Although I did just get it last year."

I was glad for Lisa's presence. Her easy demeanor and light banter with Ryan broke up our comfortable yet awkward silence. She drove us through the city, pointing out things I might like to see. I tried to appear interested, which I actually was, except when I couldn't settle my rapidly beating heart. Distracted by the sights, I looked back and forth from window to window while Ryan kept his eyes fastened on me. As we drove along, I scanned the buildings and scenery—basically taking in what little I could see of London, instead of freaking out, like my insides were.

I responded to Lisa's questions about myself and asked things of her while also trying to control my stammer and shaky leg—a difficult task.

"So—we're going back to my parents for tonight, then tomorrow heading to the island," he informed me.

I felt light headed. "Okay," I answered. I was slightly anxious about staying with his parents. I wondered what Ryan had told them about us. You need to get it together, Sterling, I thought.

We pulled up in front of a modest white home situated off a busy main road. An iron fence surrounded the property and butted up against massive green shrubbery that provided its own form of privacy around the place.

Lisa pulled right into the garage, essentially hiding us and our arrival from unwanted eyes. I stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, reveling in the thought that I was really here. Then I followed behind Ryan, allowing him to carry my bags inside.

The house was very homey and completely dark and quiet. I'd caught a 7:00 a.m. out of L.A., but what with the ten-hour flight and the time difference, it was now after two o'clock in the morning UK time. Lisa said good night and left us for her own bed. I was exhausted but being in Ryan's family home made me feel sort of high. He gave me a quick tour that ended in a guest room.

"This is where you'll sleep tonight." He winked and closed the door behind us. I immediately noticed a change in Ryan. He stood taller and exuded a confidence I'd rarely seen in him. Man, how our roles were reversed! I was edgy. My hands were shaking so badly I held them to my sides so he wouldn't notice.

Detecting a hint of cockiness in his grin, I asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means tomorrow night you're mine. There's no guest bedroom on the Isle. Just my bedroom."

"I see," I stammered. Catching the stutter in my own voice, I raised an eyebrow in what was an attempt at sexy, but what probably came across as scared shitless. Unfortunately, I was. I know he noticed my nervousness because half a second later he wrapped me in a huge hug.

"I can't tell you how good it feels to have you here in my home," he whispered while rubbing small circles on my back.

I allowed myself to relax completely and tightened my arms around his neck. The entire flight I'd played things over and over in my head, stressing and obsessing about what this time together meant. But here in the moment, I knew none of it mattered. Everything just felt so right. I hung onto him, lightly resting my head against his chest. Focusing on the feel of his hand on my lower back, I breathed in his fresh outdoor scent.

Ryan kissed my forehead, holding his lips for a moment, and then effortlessly dropped his arms from my waist. "Is there anything you need?"

"No, I'm good." I looked up at him, thinking about that kiss and how I wanted another.

"Okay then. Get some sleep. I've got big plans for tomorrow."

"Alright," I said finally. I was feeling punchy from a lack of sleep but also bummed we were no longer physically connected. With a goofy smile, he closed the door and left me alone with my thoughts.

A light rapping on the bedroom door woke me up.

"Come in," I said, sitting up in bed.

Lisa stepped through the door. "Hey there, my brother wanted me to check on you. Breakfast is on."

"Oh thanks. What time is it?" I asked stretching my limbs and stepping out of bed.

"It's almost ten."

"Seriously? I'm sorry I slept so late. I feel bad."

"No worries. You're on vacation, remember? There's no schedule here," she said with a reassuring smile.

"Cool."

"Don't forget the bathroom is across the hall if you need it."

"Thanks, I just need a minute," I said, digging through my bag for something to wear. I quickly crossed the hall and jumped into the shower for a quick rinse. I needed to clean up from traveling. After a good soap down, I finger combed my hair and sprayed a little dry shampoo in to restore some volume. I brushed my teeth, smudged on black eyeliner and mascara, then dressed in my regular uniform of skinny "Seven" jeans and a pullover sweatshirt. Once again Drew deserved a serious thank-you for making sure I had enough proper clothes. Who knows what I would have brought if I'd been left to my own devices?

I walked into his kitchen amidst all the noise Ryan's family was making. I was glad they weren't holding breakfast for me but instead were enjoying their food and some lively conversation.

"Kathryn, you made it. Grab a plate and pull up a seat," Ryan's dad called out as I appeared. I slid into an empty chair at the table, making instant eye contact with Ryan, who was literally beaming. I helped myself to some of the huge breakfast that was spread out on the table. There were scrambled eggs, beans, bacon, sausages, tomato slices, and crumpets with Marmite. Ryan asked if I wanted coffee or tea, even though he was drinking a Coke. I went with tea, being in England and all, and added a little milk and honey to it. I was starving, and everything tasted so good. A person could seriously get used to having a big breakfast like this every day.

I didn't know what Ryan had said about me and our relationship, but his parents seemed genuinely happy I was there. It wasn't the first time we'd met, yet they didn't really ask a lot of questions of me or put me on the spot. They just included me in their conversation like I belonged. I told them about my family and how we spent the holidays. His mom was interested in my mom's creative side and confessed she was a painting novice too.

"I've got a bit of a plan. Something I want to show you before we leave on the ferry tonight," Ryan spoke up.

"Oh yeah, what?" I asked.

"It's a surprise, but something I think you'll love," he said, stealing the last sausage.

"Cool," I grinned. His parents exchanged a look, and I caught Ryan's mom giving him a smile. I couldn't help wonder what he was up to and again what he'd told his parents about us.