(Oak Harbor #1) Heartbreaker - Melody Grace

HEARTBREAKER by

Melody Grace

Take a trip to Beachwood Bay: the small town where passion and romance are making waves… Each book is a stand-alone romance following a new couple, but you’ll enjoy reading the whole series and seeing familiar faces return. THE BEACHWOOD BAY SERIES: BOOK 1: UNTOUCHED (Emerson & Juliet’s story begins - novella) BOOK 2: UNBROKEN (Emerson & Juliet’s story) BOOK 3: UNTAMED HEARTS (Brit & Hunter ’s story begins - novella) BOOK 4: UNAFRAID (Brit & Hunter ’s story) BOOK 5: UNWRAPPED (Lacey & Daniel’s holiday novella) BOOK 6: UNCONDITIONAL (Garret & Carina) BEACHWOOD BAY: THE CALLAHANS BOOK 7: UNREQUITED (Dex & Alicia begin – novella) BOOK 8: UNINHIBITED (Dex & Alicia) BOOK 9: UNSTOPPABLE (Ryland & Tegan) BOOK 10: UNEXPECTEDLY YOURS (holiday story) BOOK 11: UNWRITTEN (Zoey & Blake) BOOK 12: UNMASKED (Ash & Noelle begin — novella) BOOK 13: UNFORGETTABLE (Ash & Noelle) *

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Table of Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four The Promise Chapter Preview Unbroken Chapter Preview



One. They say time heals a broken heart, but you just try and get over the love of your life when he’s the most famous man on the planet. At least, that’s what it feels like when I turn on the car radio. Nothing is playing except his latest hit song. “Bringing you back for your afternoon on 107 Hits, it’s the track everyone’s talking about, Finn McKay—” “Next up, Everyday, from the new number one smash—” “And straight to the top, for music’s own bad boy, Finn—” I let out scream of frustration, and hit the wheel. My horn blasts, and the elderly woman on the crosswalk startles, dropping her grocery bags. Crap. “Sorry, Mrs. Carter!” I call out the window, ready to jump out and help. She flips me the bird and keeps walking. Charming. I head to work and hit the preset for the country station, figuring at least I’ll get some respite there. Maybe a good song about heartbreak, or murder -- either will do. But it turns out the universe really is laughing at me right now. “Did you see the big duet at the Grammys last week? Finn McKay and Carrie Underwood. So by special request, here’s his latest single, Everyday.” There really is no escape. It was bad enough when he was the hot new artist on the verge. At least then I could ignore the gossip and pretend like his five minutes of fame would be up soon. But two years later, he shows no sign of running out of steam. If anything, he’s bigger than ever: two number one albums, a dozen hit singles, and his music in the background of every TV show and movie I try to see. This spring he’s been inescapable, staring back at me from billboards and on the cover of my favorite trashy magazines. Peak Finn. AKA, a constant reminder of the boy who shattered my heart and left town five years ago, stranding my sixteen-year old self without a word. AKA, the reason I’ve developed a serious cookie dough habit, had to boycott my radio, and spend my evenings hate-browsing the latest gossip sites looking at photos of Finn with his latest supermodel girlfriend. But hey, at least I’m not bitter. Back at the Oak Harbor Realty office, I deliver a takeout box to co-worker and new best friend, Delilah, then sink into a chair at her desk. Delilah takes one look in the lunch bag and makes a face. “Screw salad, I’ve got cupcakes!” She opens the box with a ‘ta-dah!’ “Fancy,” I whistle, looking back and forth between the virtuous container of lettuce, and the box of double-chocolate frosting. Who am I kidding? Cupcakes always win. I reach for one and sink my teeth into pure sugar rush heaven. “What’s the occasion?” “I finally closed escrow for Shana Norton on that new townhouse in the harbor.” I high five her. “Does this mean she’s going to tell Mr. Norton she’s leaving him yet?” “Not sure,” Delilah grins. “I’m guessing the moving trucks will be a big clue.” I laugh. “Want me to do the paperwork?” “Would you?” Dee bats her eyelashes at me. “Pretty please.” “Just add it to the pile.” I sigh dramatically, but I don’t mind really. I haven’t closed a deal myself in months, and sooner or later our boss is going to figure out that real estate and I just aren’t a good

match. Delilah knows exactly what I’m thinking, because she gives me a look. “You need to be out there, getting clients for yourself. You could make a great commission if you hustled a little harder.” “Me and hustle don’t get along.” I focus on my cupcake. “We had a falling out years ago. It’s not speaking to me.” “Liar. You hustled plenty at the animal shelter holiday fundraiser. You talked half the town into emptying their wallets.” “That’s different!” I protest. “It’s a good cause. Who can say no to puppies?” “Me,” Delilah curls her lip. “I never got the appeal. They’re all drooling and needy, and piss everywhere. They’re like a frat-boy on a Friday night.” “Cruella,” I laugh. She grabs a file from her desk. “Hustle or not, you’ve got an appointment this afternoon. Some mystery client looking for a rental. I told Marcie you’d take it.” “But I’m not dressed for clients!” I look down at my laundry-day skirt – missing a button – and the shirt that, yup, now has a smear of chocolate frosting over my right boob. I start dabbing, but the stain only spreads. “Look what I’ve done now. You take them.” “Nope. And I’m saying this as your friend, and not because I booked an early nail appointment,” Delilah grins. “Go on.” She shoves the file at me. “It’ll be good for you. Work the whole small-town girl charm. They’ll be eating out of your hand.” “I’ll be eating what now?” A familiar male voice comes from the doorway behind me. Blood rushes to my head. I freeze, my heart pounding. It can’t be. It can’t be. It can. Delilah lets out a shriek, and bounces out of her chair. “Holy shit, Finn! What are you doing here?” I hear a warm chuckle as she launches herself at him. “Hey Dee.” I can’t bring myself to turn around. My mind is racing to try and make sense of this. Finn McKay, here. Now. Why? And why today of all days, when I’ve got a button missing from my shirt and frosting smeared all over my chin? Sure, I’ve pictured the time I would finally run into him again, but in those fantasies I was always looking fantastic, in some great, sexy outfit, out with friends, or – even better – a hot guy on my arm. Never mind the fact I haven’t been on a decent date in months. This was my fantasy, dammit. But it turns out real life is anything but a dream. Bracing myself, I slowly swivel around. Maybe he isn’t hot anymore, I send up a silent prayer. Maybe those magazine shoots are photo-shopped, and in real life he’s skinny with a bad case of adult acne. Maybe— I’m screwed. He’s even more gorgeous in the flesh. All six feet of tanned, muscular flesh. The Finn I knew was handsome, sure, but this is something else. His lithe build has filled out, body taut against a white tee that looks anything but plain, with dark jeans that hug his ass just so. His hair is longer now, pulled back in a low bun with gold glimmering through, and he’s got tattoos I’ve never seen curling down his muscular arms. But it’s his eyes that still stop me in my tracks, blue and stormy as the December ocean. They meet mine across the room in a silent greeting. I try to remember to breathe. Finn may have left a boy of nineteen, but he’s come back all man.

“What brings you back to town?” Delilah is still hanging off him, babbling at full-speed. “Wait, don’t tell me, you decided to bring your whole touring band for a special live show?” She looks around, on alert for a whole crew of hot, tattooed musicians, but Finn just chuckles. “I’m not enough for you, sweetheart?” “No man is,” she smirks. “God, look at you! How long’s it been now?” Five years, I answer silently. Four years, eleven months, and sixteen days, but who’s counting? “A good long while,” Finn answers easily, with that faint twang of Southern drawl soaking his words in sweet bourbon. He hugs her and stands back. “You’re looking good, Dee. How are things?” “Oh, you know, the usual.” Delilah shrugs. “Breaking hearts, taking names.” “I don’t doubt it.” Finn flashes her a grin, the kind of charming smile that let him get away with every reckless bad boy stunt, and left a string of damp panties and broken hearts through the halls of our high school. Including mine. That old familiar grin triggers something inside me. My brain unfreezes. I quickly choke down my mouthful of cupcake and try to discreetly wipe my face. Pull it together, I tell myself, but when Finn finally strolls over to my desk, nothing can prepare me for the rush of emotion. “Eva.” He smiles. “It’s good to see you.” “Finn.” Just saying his name again hurts my heart. I’ve spent years trying not to think of him, trying not to let his face creep back into my mind. It should have been easy to forget him; nobody knows what we shared, and there was nothing left to tie him to this town. But love doesn’t obey logic sometimes, and I’m ashamed to admit just how long it took me to get over him, how many restless nights I wasted to the memory of his kisses, the damp slide of his body against mine. “What are you doing here?” My question comes out harsh, but luckily, Delilah is still in full flow. “Yeah, aren’t you too much of a big shot for our little town?” she teases. “How come you’re gracing us with your presence after all these years?” Finn gives an easy shrug. “I figured it would be a good place to get some R and R. I’ve been touring for two years straight. I need a break. Someplace to lay my head,” he adds, and Delilah snaps her fingers. “You’re Eva’s new mystery client!” “Wait, what?” My chest clenches. “I just gave you the file. Lucky girl.” Delilah grins, and turns back to Finn. “Anyway, it was great seeing you. We’ll have to get a drink while you’re in town.” “If you can fit me in your busy schedule,” he laughs. This isn’t just a fly-in visit? “How long are you staying?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just a week or two?” “No. I’ll need somewhere for a month, at least.” Finn is watching me, and I swear, he smiles when I stop breathing. “I’ve got the rest of the day free to look at places with you.” Finn. This afternoon. Alone. “I’m kind of busy,” I protest weakly, my head spinning. I’m not prepared for this, not even close, but Finn looks pointedly around at the empty office. Oak Harbor isn’t exactly a fast-paced destination, especially before the summer season starts. Aside from Delilah and me, there’s only our boss Marcie around – and she’s napping at her desk in the back. “Sure looks it,” he smirks. My panic grows. “I have paperwork!” Finn doesn’t even reply to that, he just gives me an amused look. “I’ll be in the car. You know, if you want to clean up.” He leans over and snags my half-eaten cupcake from the desk and takes a bite.

“Mmm,” he sounds a low growl of satisfaction, slowly licking frosting from his thumb. My pulse kicks, just watching his mouth. “You always did have a sweet tooth.” While I’m reeling, he gives me a wink and strolls back outside. Delilah lets out a slow whistle and fans herself with a condo brochure. “Hello, lover.” She leans against the desk like she’s swooning. “The road’s been good to that boy. Real good.” “I guess.” I grab the file, and pray we’ve got some decent listings. Hopefully, he’ll want the first place I show him, and this nightmare will be over in twenty minutes flat. “Well, never let it be said I don’t make sacrifices for our friendship,” Delilah adds, dramatic. “I saw the way he was staring. He’s all yours.” “What? No!” My head snaps up. “You’re wrong.” “Mmhmm.” Delilah just laughs, and goes to rifle through her purse. “Come on, the man’s waiting. You can borrow my lipstick.” Part of me wants to walk straight outside looking like this, to show Finn I don’t care at all, but the other part – the one still reeling from that smile – needs a moment to pull myself together. “Thanks,” I tell Delilah, and race to the bathroom. I slam the door, and face myself in the mirror. Oh boy. I drag my hair up into a ponytail and quickly slick lipstick on – then blot it all off again. I can feel the storm of emotions whirling in my stomach, and I run the cold water to cool off my sweaty hands. My reflection isn’t the problem; it’s the illegally hot guy waiting outside. It shouldn’t be a big deal. I used to have game, and flirt with cute strangers in bars all the time, but that was years ago. And besides, Finn isn’t a stranger – he knows me right down to the core. Why is he back here, after all these years? I close my eyes. Finn didn’t just leave town that night after graduation. He erased himself completely. No note, no calls, no casual updates online. He vanished so thoroughly, he didn’t even tell his father where he’d gone. I don’t blame him for that, since the two of them were never close. Lord knows Hank McKay wasn’t exactly the warm, fuzzy type. But still, how could he do that to me? A tap at the door breaks through my thoughts. I startle, splashing water as Delilah’s voice comes. “I know it’s a lady’s right to keep a man waiting, but he’s been cooling his heels out there ten minutes now.” I pause. Not for the first time, I wish we’d been closer friends back in high-school. Delilah was a year ahead of me, so she never knew what happened with Finn. Nobody did – we kept it secret. I didn’t want the small-town gossip, and sneaking around only made things more fun – and more lonely when he left. I didn’t reconnect with Dee until I moved back here after college, and by then, I didn’t want to drag the past up all over again. Now, I wish she knew the whole story, instead of expecting me to swoon and drool right along with her. I shut off the faucet and open the door. “How do I look?” I ask, reluctant. Delilah doesn’t do tact, but I must look pretty pathetic because she gives me a big grin. “Perfect! Irresistible! Now go get him.” She sends me off with a slap on my ass. As I head back out front, I feel more like a sacrifice getting tossed to the lions. You can do this. You’re not a kid anymore, I tell myself, trying to pump myself up again. You’re a grown woman with class, and style, and you’ve got moves he’s never seen. Not that I’m going to use them. What kind of asshole leaves and never even picks up the phone? I dial back every missed call, even when it’s a timeshare scam in Albuquerque. You’d think he could have returned a message from the girl he swore he’d love forever. But when I open the door, and step outside, and find Finn by the curb, leaning again a classic grey Mustang – a molten-whiskey look in his blue eyes– I take it all back. Is it too late to pick the lions?

“So what kind of property are you looking for?” I ask brightly, approaching him. I clutch my file to my chest like it could possibly shield me from that seductive smile and piercing eyes. Finn doesn’t answer. He just opens the passenger door for me. “You cut your hair,” he remarks as I duck into the car. “You didn’t,” I say pointedly. “Touché.” He laughs, closing the door behind me and circling around to the driver ’s side. I watch him, déjà vu rushing through me like a wildfire, hot and insistent. I must have sat in the passenger seat of his car a hundred times or more, all those late nights we’d slip away to the creek or out past the shoreline drive. I would have said once that it was my favorite place in the world, sitting right there beside him with my feet up on the dashboard, humming along to whatever old country songs his beatup AM radio could pull from the wire. “Nice upgrade, huh?” Finn must be reading my mind as he settles behind the wheel. “That old thing took me as far as Georgia before the engine crapped out on me in the middle of highway seventy-five.” Georgia. I have to bite my tongue to keep from asking if that’s where he went. Instead, I pull out the first listing. “It’s waterfront, new build. Just take the beach road out past the harbor.” “Yes ma’am.” Finn doesn’t seem shaken by my cool tone. He cruises through the center of town, one hand on the wheel, the other resting out of the open window. “So, you’re a realtor now? Somehow I didn’t picture you behind a desk selling condos.” I shrug. “It’s a job. I work the office, mainly. Admin, phones. I was lucky Delilah got me the gig. She’s the real mastermind there.” “Now that, I can picture. How’s the acting?” he asks, looking over. “I always wondered if I’d see your name up in lights on Broadway one of these days.” I feel a pang, remembering my life in New York City after high-school – the one he knows nothing about. “I’m not doing it anymore. It was just a hobby,” I answer briskly. “So what are you looking for in a house?” I change the subject. “A dock? Outside space? Room for big parties?” “I’ll know it when I see it.” Great. We keep driving. Oak Harbor is a small coastal community near the mouth of the Cape Fear River, with a bustling waterfront, cute clapboard houses, and a few stores and restaurants leading back from the rocky shoreline. It used to be an old fishing town, but these days, tourism is the main draw. People come from all over to fish off the boardwalk, take the ferry out to see the old lighthouse, and visit the wide Atlantic beaches just across the sound. “This place hasn’t changed at all,” Finn remarks, looking outside as we cruise slowly along the sleepy main street. “Small town life,” I shrug. “We got a new pizza place that stays open past ten on the weekends.” “Living life on the edge.” Finn laughs. Our eyes catch. Electricity crackles, straight from his clear blue eyes down the back of my spine, and I feel the rush everywhere: hot and sweet, pulling low between my thighs. I look away. “How are your folks?” he asks, gripping the steering wheel with both hands now. “Good.” I take a breath, calming myself. “My dad got a promotion to the head office in Savannah, so they’ve moved out there for six months, to see how they like the place.” “And Lottie? She’s, what, nineteen now? She must be off at college.” “No,” I answer quietly. “She’s here in town too.” I quickly change the subject away from my little sister. “It’s this turning, just up ahead.” Finn follows my directions up to the first property: a boxy chrome and glass condo set on the

waterfront, with a balcony looking straight out across the bay. He peers up at it over the steering wheel and shakes his head. “Not for me.” “But you haven’t even seen inside,” I protest. “The view’s amazing.” “I told you, I’ll know it when I see it.” Finn looks at me again, and the intensity in his gaze is enough to make me wonder, why he’s back here of all places? He could be off relaxing in the Caribbean, or sunning himself on a private yacht. Why did he come to our little mom and pop shop instead of one of the big, flashy realtors up the coast? Why, even after everything he did, does my heart race, and my blood pump faster? Just one look from him could make all my heartbreak melt away. He clears his throat, and starts the engine again. “Where to next?” We visit another five houses, but Finn doesn’t even make it inside to look at half of them. “Fame’s changed you.” I’m only half-kidding as we drive away from a great beach-front mansion I would kill to live in. “I guess you’re jaded by all the fancy hotels and private jets.” “Sounds like someone’s been reading the tabloids.” Finn grins. I flush. “I’ve seen a couple of things around. You know, in passing,” I add carefully. “That stuff’s not true is it?” He gives me a wink. “Every word, sweetheart.” I know he’s only teasing, but I still can’t help thinking of all the things I’ve read over the years, stories of Finn dating Hollywood actresses and frolicking backstage with sexy models. I block those images and sneak a look at him instead, that familiar profile and easy posture. His free hand taps out a rhythm on the window frame. He always did have restless hands; he used to say it’s why he first picked up a guitar. He would play for me, just idly strumming as we killed time on those hot, late nights, sprawled out in the grass miles outside of town, watching fireflies spiral in the midnight sky. I suddenly get an idea. “I know the place,” I declare. “Take the highway north, just past the bridge.” Finn does as I say, and soon, we’re pulling up the winding driveway of an old house backing onto the creek. We came here once, years ago. We wandered the empty, run-down rooms before sitting down by the dock, our feet dunked in the cool water. Now the house sits under shady cypress trees, the paint fresh and the front path newly mown. “The Thomas mansion?” Finn asks, slowly getting out of the car. I scramble out too. “This place was falling apart the last time I saw it.” “They finally sold it, a few years back. Some developer took it back to the studs, but they did a really nice job. It still has all the original floors, and that great porch wrapping around the back.” I lead him up to the front door and step inside. I can already see it on his face, that this is the place, but still, I take him through the warm living areas, furnished with classic, beachy furniture, and out back, to where rhododendron bushes and rolling grass lead all the way down to the wide expanse of slow-winding creek. Finn breathes in the salty marsh air and looks out over the water, like he’s already home. “I’ll take it.” “Don’t you want to know how much it is?” I ask. He shrugs, his big-shot lifestyle peeking through. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Ask if they’ll lease it for a couple of months.” I nod. It’s a big property to be rattling around all alone -- but maybe he won’t be. I realize that for all I know, he could have a gorgeous, sexy girlfriend just waiting back at the hotel. “So, just so I know what to tell the owners…will you be staying here alone?” I ask, trying to be casual. The grin he gives me says I failed, miserably. “I should have someone out next week.”

My heart sinks. “To hook up the cable. I can’t be without my TV.” Finn’s eyes gleam with humor. He’s teasing me, dammit. “Great!” I refuse to show I’m ruffled. “Then we’re all set.” I turn on my heel to head back out front, but Finn pauses. “Wait a second. Don’t you want to show me the rest of the property? Upstairs, all the bedrooms?” Me and Finn, alone in a room with a king-sized bed? I’ve had dreams like that, and I know exactly how things wind up: the both of us tangled up naked, sweaty, and gasping with pleasure. But there are consequences to the most perfect moment of release – and I learned that lesson the hard way. “Sorry,” I reply, my cheeks burning. “I can’t stay. I have to be somewhere. I’m already running late.” “Sure thing.” Finn drives us back to the office, still perfectly at ease. But as the miles pass, his nonchalance burns me. Since the moment he walked in he’s been behaving like everything’s fine between us, like it’s no big deal to just show up and act like nothing’s wrong. Or maybe it isn’t, to him. What happened between us may have made an indelible mark on my heart, but what if he barely gave it a second thought on his path to sold-out stadiums and number one hits? My heart suddenly aches so much I want to cry. I need to get away, but I manage to hold it together until he pulls up outside the old carriage house, and I can climb out of the car on unsteady legs. “I’ll get the contract sent over right away,” I tell him. “Don’t I get your number?” I stare blankly. Finn’s lips curl in a teasing smile. “For questions about the lease.” “Oh. You can call the office. Delilah will be able to help you out. In fact, you probably won’t see me again. Like I said, I meanly deal with the admin.” Finn gazes at me thoughtfully for a moment, so long I wonder if I still have frosting on my face. “I like it,” he says finally. “Like what?” “Your hair. You always used to hide behind it,” he says, his smile slipping through my defenses all over again. “Now I can see your eyes.” I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Oh no. Not this time. I turn away and hurry up the steps without looking back, but I feel his gaze on me with every step. This doesn’t mean anything, I tell myself. Finn McKay is back in town, as gorgeous and charming as ever. But I’ve learned my lesson the hard way. For the sake of my heart, I’m steering clear.



Two. I wasn’t lying about running late. I make the drive half an hour out of town, all the way to a run-down old farm set on a couple of acres of plain grassland. It’s the home of the Brunswick County Animal Shelter. I’ve been coming out here for years, first as a kid, just to play with all the animals, but then volunteering to help with donations and paperwork. It’s a special place to me, the one place I can go to forget the rest of the world and just feel like me. Like I’m doing something that matters. Today, I need that escape more than ever. I pull up beside a muddy pick-up truck in the overgrown lot. I head into the main house to change into old jeans and a sweater, the kind of outfit that can stand up to fifty over-eager dogs – and all the mess that comes along with them. Right away, I’m attacked by a barking, drooling herd of Labrador puppies. Someone found them in a box out on the highway. It breaks my heart to think of them out there in the dark, crying for their mother. “Whoa, easy there.” I push them down, laughing, but they trail me all the way outside. I find Edith, the owner, mending wire fence by the kennels. She’s a legend around town, the one who started taking in strays twenty years back. She built a couple of kennels every other year, taking in every abandoned dog and unwanted kitten litter around. Soon, there was a whole farm full of unwanted animals running wild. The puppies race on ahead, bouncing eagerly around her, then skittering off to play in the mud. “Sorry I’m late,” I greet her, my boots squelching on the wet ground. “I got held up at work.” “That’s no problem, sweetheart.” She looks up, her wiry grey hair pulled back with a bright batikprint scarf. “I’m just finishing up here. The collies got out again last night. I had a call at three AM that they were halfway to Wilmington.” I smile and reach to help her fix the wire in place. “How’s Chester doing?” The old German Shepard has been sick for a couple of days now. Edith tuts. “Not great. He’s still off his food, so I called the vet in. Maybe he’ll know what’s the problem.” “Poor guy,” I agree. “I’ll go stop in, see if I can make him drink something.” “And would you move the feed, when you get a chance?” Edith makes a face. “We had a delivery, but the boy just left it on the porch, and you know my back’s not what it used to be.” “No problem.” I straighten up. “I’ll go see to it now.” I head back inside and start my usual routine. Some people think it’s boring, dirty work to refill feed bowls and clean out the kennels, but I like it. I’ve always loved animals, especially dogs. I love how simple and loyal they are, how they don’t judge or criticize, but accept you. When I was a kid, I had a terrible stammer. The experts all said it was nervous anxiety and nothing to worry about. I started speech therapy, learning how to slowly take control of every word, but it was a long, hard process. Worst of all for any ten-year old kid, it made me different. The kids at school would tease me until I was so self-conscious that I barely spoke at all. I retreated into my own little world, losing myself in plays and poetry, whispering a single word in response to questions, or just ignoring them all. Other people’s words were safe – I could memorize whole monologues from school plays – but when it came to speaking my own mind, I couldn’t string the sentences together. Mom didn’t know what to do, until someone suggested a pet might help. She brought me out here one day, and that’s all it took. A motley litter of strays came bounding out to meet me, and I fell head over heels in love. You see, I didn’t need to speak to the dogs to make them like me. They seemed to know exactly what I was feeling without a single word. They didn’t tease me, or judge; they just loved me for me. Unconditionally. Even later, after the speech therapy worked and nobody could tell I’d ever had a problem, that acceptance and peace never went away. The animals helped me when I needed them

most. When I was at rock bottom again, after Finn left and I had nothing but questions and scars that nobody else could see, I found myself back here, trying to forget the world all over again. Finn… I take a break from hoisting feed-bags. His face fills my mind, that knowing smile and vivid stare that could melt from blue to green and back again, like the waves shifting in a storm. How many nights have I lain awake, wishing that he’d come back again? They were the futile prayers of a heartbroken girl. Now that the universe has conspired to deliver him to my doorstep again, all those questions flare to life. We were friends, first. I was just a junior, and he already had a reputation, strolling around school in those black jeans like he didn’t give a damn. He was cool, reckless, a heartbreaker through and through – and so far out of my orbit, it was like we were living on different planets. My friends would whisper the latest gossip about him in hushed, scandalized whispers: all the girls he hooked up with, and the latest trouble he was in. I never even spoke to him, until one October afternoon. I was out with the dogs in the woods back behind town, and found him by the creek, playing his guitar. I remember it now, how surprised I was to hear such sweet, soulful melodies drifting out from the strings. He had such a rebellious image, like he didn’t give a damn about anything, but the expression on his face that day was so intent and careful as he plucked the melody, stopping and starting over each time he got a chord wrong. When the dogs rushed back, barking, I jumped out of my skin. He looked up and saw me. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, backing away. “I didn’t mean to watch.” “That’s OK.” He laughed as the dogs swarmed him curiously, licking at his face and nudging his hands. “Who are these guys?” I told him about volunteering at the shelter, and we wound up talking until the sun started sinking in the pale autumn sky. We talked about my acting, and his music, about everything and nothing at all. The next day in school, I figured he’d act like nothing had happened, but instead he stopped me in the hallway to talk some more. My friends’ jaws all dropping when he called to me by name. We were unlikely friends, nobody could ever figure us out: the rebellious heartbreaker, and the shy, quiet girl who always had her head in a play. But Finn never seemed to care. All through the winter, I saw him around school. He would even give me a ride sometimes, when he found me waiting at the bus stop in the pouring rain, or lugging a backpack overstuffed with books. We would have stayed that way too, just friendly, if fate hadn’t brought us together again, away from everything. That dark, cold New Year ’s Eve when the air hummed with electricity, and everything changed for good. A distant door slamming brings me back to reality, and I realize I’m standing in the middle of the storage shed with dry feed scattering at my feet. I push aside the past and go check in on the dogs, making sure that the old terrier has a blanket and the nervous poodles can hide in a fort of boxes, out of sight. Edith moved Chester into the main house when he first got sick, and when I finally find him in the office, hiding under the desk, he’s heavy and unmoving. “Poor boy,” I murmur, crawling under to softly stroke his coat. Chester lifts his head and stares at me with miserable eyes. “What’s got you feeling so poorly, hmmm?” “That’s what I’m here to find out.” I startle at the noise, and bang my head on the underside of the desk. “Owww!” “Shit, I’m sorry.” A male voice comes from behind me. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Edith said to come right back.” I carefully crawl out and straighten up, rubbing my head. “It’s OK. I think.” I turn to the newcomer, trying not to wince. “How can I help you?” “I’m the new vet.” The stranger smiles, extending a steady hand to shake. He’s definitely an upgrade on the old one. Tall and broad-shouldered, he can’t be older than thirty, with sandy blond

hair and a clean-cut jawline. “Sawyer Green. Are you sure you’re OK?” I nod. “It was just a bump.” He frowns. “Well, if you start feeling dizzy or nauseated, let me know.” “And what, you’ll check my heart-rate?” I ask, nodding to the tiny animal-sized stethoscope in his hand. Sawyer smiles. “Either that, or try some de-worming.” “Eww.” I laugh. “I think I’ll pass.” “Good call.” His eyes go to poor Chester, still slumped there under the desk. “May I…?” “Please.” I stand aside. Sawyer gets to his knees, and slowly approaches the old dog, holding out his hand for Chester to sniff. “He’s usually running around with the rest of them. I’m wondering if it’s something he ate.” “Could be.” Sawyer carefully runs his hands over Chester ’s body, pausing to press and feel. “But with dogs this age, it’s more likely to be something internal.” “You mean like cancer?” My voice is stricken. Sawyer looks up at me. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions. Can you help me lift him out? Then I can take some blood, run some tests.” I quickly clear space on the table, and together we gently lift the old dog. Chester ’s usually full of life, but he barely even makes a sound. “Don’t worry,” Sawyer catches my expression. “He’d be whimpering if he was in any pain.” “Still.” I stroke him, “I don’t know what we’d do without him. He’s been here for years.” “What about you?” Sawyer asks, checking Chester ’s temperature, and making a note in a file. “Me too, I’ve got a kennel out back.” Sawyer laughs. “No, I’m just a volunteer,” I say. “I help Edith out around the place.” “It’s a lot to manage.” “And getting bigger all the time,” I sigh. “But we just can’t turn anyone away. Every time Edith says we’re full, someone will show up with a box of kittens, or a dog they found out by the highway and, well…” “Who can say no to that?” Sawyer finishes. He gives me an understanding look. “I’m the same. Somehow the neighborhood cats figured out I’m a soft touch. Now they just show up in my yard mewling for food.” “So you’re a cat lady.” I grin. “And proud of it.” Sawyer finishes taking blood, so smooth I barely even noticed, and neither did Chester. Sawyer tucks the vial in his bag, and gives the dog another pat. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I walk him out front, where Edith is sat feeding some of the newborn kittens from a bottle. “What’s the verdict?” she asks from the rocker. “I’ll put a rush on the blood work, see if I can give you a call tomorrow,” Sawyer says. Edith nods approvingly. “I like this guy already.” “Did you just move to the area?” I ask. I haven’t seen him around. Sawyer nods. “I did my residency training up in Chicago, but I couldn’t stand the cold. Below freezing every other day.” He shudders at the mention. “Well, welcome to town.” I smile. “I promise, the weather ’s better here. Until it gets to August, and you’ll be dreaming about the cold again.” “I’ll take your word for it. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know a good place to get a bite?” Sawyer asks. “Nothing fancy, just a burger and beer.” “You’ll want Dixie’s.” I suggest. “A few blocks past the harbor. It’s a casual crowd, but they’ve got

a great selection on tap, and there’s always Springsteen on the jukebox.” “Well in that case, I’ll have to check it out. Want to join me there later?” he asks casually. “I have to go check on some horses out in PLACE, but I could meet you after.” “Sure,” I agree, surprised. “I could use some of her chili fries.” “Great.” He smiles. “I’ll see you there at eight. It’s a date.” Wait, what? I don’t have time to react before he shakes hands with Edith and heads back to his truck. As the wheels crunch on gravel, I stare after him. “Date?” I repeat, blinking. Edith snorts with laughter. “Girl, you wouldn’t know a pass if he put it in writing first.” “He didn’t mean it like that.” I shake my head. “He’s new in town, probably just looking to make friends.” Edith smirks. “Whatever you think.” I look back at the driveway, feeling a rush of guilt. I shouldn’t have given him the wrong impression, not with memories Finn still whirling in my mind – and my heart. Except that Finn is ancient history. He’s spent the past five years doing whatever he wants – with whoever he wants. I’m allowed to go on a date if I want, especially with a handsome, sweet, funny guy like Sawyer. Finn waltzing back shouldn’t change that, so why am I letting it get to me? He’s made it clear that he’s moved on. Why shouldn’t I?



Three. I can hear the chaos from the house before I even make it up the front path. I open the door, and right away I’m hit with the noise from music on the radio, a cartoon on TV, a baby crying from the next room, and the sound of a dog barking wildly. “Kit got a booboo,” Lottie says, appearing in the doorway with a baby wailing in her arms. She looks frazzled, with paint spilled on her shirt and something sticky in her blond, choppy hair. “Can you take him for a sec? I haven’t had a minute all day. He puked over me this morning, and I can’t get it out.” “Come here, you little munchkin!” I happily lift my nephew from her arms and she lets out a huge sigh of relief. “Look who’s here,” she coos to him. “Auntie Eva will make everything OK.” “I’ll do my best.” “Rock star.” Lottie scampers upstairs, and a moment later, I hear the shower sound. I rock Kit gently. He wails, his face red and fists clenched. “Bad day, huh? I know how you feel.” I distract him with a toy and take him through to the living room, setting him down in his pen to play. Soon enough, the tears are forgotten, and I can keep one eye on the baby and start tidying up around the room. By the time Lottie comes back down with wet hair and fresh sweatpants, the place looks half-way back to normal again. “Finally, I don’t smell like barf!” she declares. “That’s the one thing they don’t tell you about having kids. Sure, they warn you about the poop, and the sore boobs, and never sleeping again, but somehow I never got the part about smelling like a bad hangover twenty-four seven.” I feel a familiar ache, but I ignore it as she collapses on the couch with an exhausted sigh. “Anyway, how are you? What’s life like in the outside world, with people who can hold a decent conversation?” “Fine,” I tell her, glossing over the epic, unsettling part of my day. “Work, the shelter, the usual.” I shrug. “I just came by to pick up that blue sweater, you know, the one with the V-neck?” Lottie frowns. “I think Kit was using it as a blanket. I’ll go check.” She disappears into the laundry room, then emerges holding it up triumphantly. “Look, not even a stain on it.” “Thanks.” Lottie tosses it over. “When are you going to quit living out of a suitcase?” “What, you want me to move in back here?” I laugh. Lottie looks around at the clutter of toys and baby gear. “Maybe not. But don’t you get sick of moving every few months?” I shrug. “I like it. It’s like an adventure, living in a new house every time.” “Life on the edge,” Lottie teases. “My big sis, so reckless and wild.” Mom and dad left the house for us while they’re in Savannah, but there’s only so much chaos I can take. I worked out a deal to housesit and manage some of the summer houses while the owners are out of town. It means moving around every few months, but it’s worth it to have my own space to come home to, a small corner of the world that’s just mine. But even though Lottie was practically pushing me out the door too, a part of me still feels like I should be here, helping out more. Lottie yawns. “Want to stay for pizza and leftover casserole?” “Tempting, but I’ll pass. I’m going out,” I say slowly. “I think I have a date.” “Think?” Lottie sits up. “With who? How? Where?” “It’s no big deal,” I shake my head. “I’m meeting the new vet at Dixie’s later.” Lottie’s blue eyes widen. “The hot one! Sawyer, whatshisname.” “How do you know?”

“Please. Word travels fast here, especially when it comes to sexy single guys. The moms in my baby art class all had their panties in a twist.” Lottie waggles her eyebrows, and I laugh. “It’s nothing. Like I said, it’s just a friendly thing.” Lottie whacks me with a cushion. “Hey!” “You’re not doing this again,” she says, pointing at me. “Pretending like it’s nothing romantic so hard that even the guy gets the hint and leaves you alone.” “Since when?” I protest. “Since always.” She rolls her eyes. “You did it with that accountant guy last year, and that hot waiter we met at Target—” “He was staring at your maternity cleavage,” I point out, but Lottie doesn’t quit. “I’m serious, you’re like an old maid already!” she argues. “I don’t get it. You’re young, and hot, and your boobs aren’t leaking milk every two hours. At least one of us needs to get laid sometime soon, and right now, I’m too tired to even try.” I give her a sympathetic smile. I know it can’t be easy. She’s only nineteen, and while all her friends are off at college, partying without a care in the world, she’s here raising a kid on her own. “You’ll get there, soon enough. When Kit’s a little older, and—” “We’re not talking about me!” Lottie interrupts. “You’re the one who needs to be out having fun. Lots of fun,” she adds. “With protection.” I laugh, but the joke is bittersweet. Lottie was only seventeen when she sat us down and announced she was pregnant. She doesn’t talk about the father, never even told us his name. All she gave was a fierce glare and the information that he was out of the picture. That was the last she’d say about it. I was two years into drama school in New York, and in a whole mess of trouble myself, so it made sense for me to come home. I was able to help her out with the baby, far away from the big city lights, and from all the mistakes I’d been making. It was a wake-up call, a way to find meaning again after searching so desperately – recklessly – in all the wrong places. Sometimes, I think she saved my life. “So what are you wearing for this hot date?” Lottie demands. “Not that sweater, I hope.” I look down at the garment in my hand. “What’s wrong with it?” “It’s fine for a tea party with the historical society,” she snorts. “Would it kill you to show a little cleavage? There’s a magic little something called Wonderbra.” Lottie leaps up. “You can borrow mine!” “No, thank you!” I quickly get to my feet as well. “I’m playing it casual, OK? This is just a drinks date at Dixie’s. A drink that might not even be a real date. Trust me, when I want to look sexy, you’ll be the first to know.” “At least let me do something with your hair,” she pleads. “Some cute bangs… I have my stuff right here!” Lottie cuts hair at the local salon, and is actually a genius when it comes to transforming people with just the right style. Still, I’m not about to risk her going wild with the scissors. The last time I let her loose on my hair, she took off five inches because she ‘wanted to see how it looks.’ Luckily, Kit slowly rocks over and lets out a wail of surprise as he tumbles to the carpet. Lottie goes to scoop him up, distracted. “You’re not getting off so easy,” she says, cooing. “I want details. Lots of details.” “Will do.” I kiss Kit goodbye, then let myself out. My sister ’s voice echoes after me, down the garden path. “And wear those tight jeans, so he can see your butt!” It’s a warm evening, so I decide to leave my car at home and walk over to the bar. I’m staying in a house in the woods this month, and the road is lined with graceful old cypress trees, casting mysterious shadows in my path. As I walk into town, I try to put Finn McKay out of my mind for

good. If I’m lucky, I probably won’t even see him again. He’ll be too busy out at his new place, throwing big parties for all his rock star friends and doing whatever it is he’s been doing for the past five years. Without me. I cut past the harbor, and can already hear music and laughter from inside the bar from half a block away. Dixie’s is an institution in town, opened by the lady herself, a pint-sized spitfire with dyed red hair and a shotgun tucked behind the bar. Everyone has a story to tell about this place, from the dads reminiscing about beers with their buddies, to moms remembering all the illicit things that went on in the back booths. For us kids, it was the ultimate rite of passage to go sneak a beer there underage, but Dixie never blinked. She just served us watered-down draft and turned a blind eye – as long as things never got out of hand. Tonight, the place is full and noisy, filled with the usual local Friday night crowds. I’m barely through the door when Delilah sweeps me into a hug. “Two hot guys in one day? Either you’re on fire, or I’m seriously off my game.” “How do you--?” “Lottie called and filled me in with all the scandalous details. Now, where’s this hunky vet?” I look around, but I don’t see Sawyer. “I’m early. He’s not here yet.” Delilah fusses with my hair. She’s wearing a tight red tank top, and as she looks me up and down, I can tell she’s wishing I had dolled up more. “Well,” she sighs. “At least you wore the jeans.” I shake my head. “Since when are the two of you conspiring behind my back?” “Since you need a kick up the ass.” Delilah kisses me on the cheek. “Good luck, babe. And if he turns out to be boring, just give me the secret signal and I’ll come rescue you.” “What’s the signal?” “Just throw your drink over him.” I laugh. “Real secret.” She heads back to her table, and I make my way to the bar and order a beer. I wait for Sawyer to show, and as the minutes tick past I’m surprised to find my stomach fluttering a little with nerves. It should be no big deal, meeting a guy for a drink, but the truth is, my romantic life has been pretty… non-existent. After New York, I wasn’t ready to date for a long while, recently my dating world has consisted of some awkward fix-ups (courtesy of Delilah) and a lot of nights watching Netflix with Lottie and Kit. But Sawyer seems like he could have real potential. In the five minutes I actually spent talking to him, that is. I check my phone and find a voicemail from an unfamiliar number. Just as I’m about to listen, my phone rings again. “Hello?” “Eva, it’s Sawyer—” His voice is hard to hear over the spirited argument next to me, so I slip down from my stool. “Hold on, I’m just going somewhere less noisy.” I head outside to the parking lot. “OK, I can hear you now.” “I have to apologize,” Sawyer sounds stressed. “I’ve got a mare in breech birth, and I won’t be able to leave. I left you a message earlier, but I guess you didn’t get it.” I’m disappointed, but I hide it. “That’s OK. We can do it another time.” “I’m out of town this week for a conference, but can I call you when I get back?” “Sure, just let me know. Anything interesting?” He chuckles. “That depends if you like artificial insemination of livestock.” I laugh. “I think I’ll pass. Have fun.” “You too. And I’m really sorry,” he adds, sincere. “But I look forward to seeing you when I get back.”

I hang up, alone for a moment outside. I could go back in and hang out with Delilah – and whatever guys she’s managed to rustle up this week – but I’m not in the mood. I turn, about to head back home, when someone steps out of the shadows. “Hot date?” Finn leans against the wall, an unlit cigarette in his hand. With the lights playing off his face, he’s suddenly all chiseled angles and a dark, sexy stare. Mysterious. Dangerous. Utterly intoxicating. My pulse kicks, and I remember the way those restless hands felt sliding over my body; the slow, hot drag of his mouth on my bare skin. “What if it was?” I ask, heart racing. He gives me a slow, molten look. “He’s a lucky guy.” I look away, unsettled by the heat racing through my blood. “He can’t make it,” I admit. “He’s out on an emergency.” “His loss.” I glance back. “Since when do you smoke? I thought you always said it was toxic for your voice.” Finn gives a wry smile. “Just one of my many bad habits. I try not to… except at times of extreme stress.” “What’s so stressful?” He doesn’t answer, just looks at me again, wreathed in shadows. “Are you hungry?” I blink, thrown. “Come back inside, get a bite to eat.” Finn smiles at me, a dangerous, seductive grin. “I promise I won’t bite.” Lust pulls, low in my stomach. Oh boy. I should leave right now, put as much distance as possible between me and that hungry gaze as I can. But I reason with myself. I haven’t eaten anything in hours, and this is a crowded bar. Delilah’s right there waiting for me, too. It’s perfectly safe. Because that’s the thing about Finn. He became my bad influence, the one person who sparked a hint of reckless rebellion. With him, I was suddenly adventurous and brave, always up for a new risk, as long as he was right there with me. And after he left… I chased that reckless feeling all the way to New York; trying my hardest to prove it wasn’t just him, that I could be brave all on my own, no matter how many clubs and bars and come-down morning-afters it took. It took me a long time to realize, those were just fake highs I was chasing. Finn McKay was the only genuine rush around. Tonight, I feel it all over again, snaking hot through my bloodstream, and making the hairs on my skin stand on end. Just one drink, that tempting voice whispers in my mind. What harm will it do? God, I’ve missed this feeling. There’s nothing like it in the world. So I forget the tears, and the heartbreak, and the secret I’ve carried for the last five years. “Sure,” I tell him. “Why not?”



Four. As I step back inside, I make a quick, desperate vow to myself. I can play pretend. I’ll chat, and catch up, and betray nothing about the hurt he caused me. If Finn can act like nothing’s wrong, then I can do the same. It was just a high school fling, years ago. No reason for this emotion churning in my stomach, or the dizzy, light-headed feeling I get just looking at his gorgeous face again. Casual. Friends. Simple. It’s not like this morning, when I didn’t see him coming. Now that I’ve had a chance to process it all, I should be fine. We’ll have a beer, some easy conversation, and go our separate ways. Right? I follow him across the room. Finn leads me to a booth in the corner, set away from the crowd. Romantic. I search out Delilah, and frantically beckon her over, but she just gives me a big thumbs up and turns back to her friends. I’m on my own. “The usual?” Finn asks, gesturing to the bar. For a moment, I’m tempted to order something new, something completely different to show how much I’ve changed since he’s been gone. But the truth is, I’ve been craving those chili fries all afternoon. I nod, and he answers with a smile. “Be right back.” I slide into the booth, and in no time at all Finn is sitting opposite me again, lounging casual against the cracked leather booth. “I’ve missed this place. Every other bar in LA tries so hard to be like this, but it’s just not the same.” “No sticky stains on the floor and gum under the tables?” I ask lightly. “Exactly.” He grins. “Plus, Dixie’s one of a kind.” He reaches up to push back his hair. It falls almost past his shoulders now, and I’m struck with a sudden urge to reach out and touch it. I grip my beer and take a long gulp. Down, girl. “Is that where you’re living now?” I ask. “LA? Off and on. I have a place there, but I barely ever see it. The tour has been pretty much nonstop.” Finn exhales a long breath. “It started out just a few dates in Europe, back when the record was first released. But then the single hit, so they kept adding new dates. The States, and South America, back to Europe again…they wanted to keep going. But I had to tell my manager, one more show and I was going to drop dead right there on stage.” “Still, that must have been amazing,” I tell him, envy creeping into my voice. “Seeing the world.” Finn gives me a rueful smile. “You’d think, but most of it’s just hustling to get to the next show. When you do get a day off, all you want to do is sleep.” “Aww.” I can’t help teasing. “Poor little rock star.” Finn snorts, then wipes beer from his face. It’s such a familiar gesture that I find myself relaxing. When the waitress swings by with two steaming baskets of chili cheese fries, I groan. “Oh my God, I’ve been dreaming about this moment.” I devour it, not coming up for air until half my basket is gone. When I look up, Finn is watching me, amusement on his handsome face. I pause. “What? Do I have sauce all over my face?” He shakes his head. “No, you’re good.” I remind myself to eat like a person, rather than one of the dogs at the shelter. “So, all the travel aside, there must be some perks to the rock star lifestyle. C’mon,” I prompt him. “No VIP benefits at all?” Finn smiles. “OK, so it’s not all bad. I love the music part, getting to play my songs and perform in front of those crowds. When they all sing along, and it hits me that they know every word of my words…” he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s pretty awesome.” I know how that feels, being up on stage in the spotlight, feeling all eyes on me. I used to love it,

losing myself in a role until I’d surface from the performance and find the audience hanging off my every word. I feel a rush of pride for him. He’s come a long way since we were sitting on that riverbank together. Even though I can’t forget the pain he caused, I can’t help but feel proud of everything he’s achieved. “Your dad must have been happy,” I say quietly. “I was really sorry when he passed.” Finn’s face tenses. He gives an abrupt kind of shrug. “Yeah, well, it happens.” I realize I’ve stepped over some kind of line. Finn never came back for the funeral, but by then his career was sky-rocketing and I figured that maybe he had other commitments he just couldn’t break. Now, I wonder if he gave it a miss for another reason. “But back to your new superstar lifestyle.” I change the subject quickly and give him a playful grin. “I heard you caused a riot in London.” Finn relaxes again. “No comment.” “Come on,” I urge, and he laughs. “That was just my PR company blowing it all out of proportion. The truth is, some girls thought I was that guy from the boy band, started screaming, and soon I’m fighting my way through a hundred horny schoolgirls. Have you ever seen them swarm?” he adds, grimacing. “I swear, the ones who got up close were sorely disappointed.” “Unlike your fans here.” I nod over to the bar, where a trio of coeds are watching. He turns, and they all blush and turn away, whispering hysterically to each. Finn slouches lower, hiding in the booth. “Are you blushing?” I laugh. He looks even more uncomfortable. “Tell me they’re not coming over.” I peek back. “No, but they’ve got their phones out, so expect your photo all over Facebook in an hour.” He groans. “Don’t get me wrong, I love that they’re into the music. But this stuff, getting followed around and asked for my autograph?” He shakes his head. “I wish it wasn’t part of the deal.” “It’s a devil’s bargain, for sure.” I laugh, surprised by his discomfort. He always seemed so relaxed being the object of everyone’s affection back when I knew him before, but maybe there’s a difference between the sophomore class of our high school panting over you, and thousands of eager fangirls around the world. Finn finishes his beer, and gets up. “Another?” I shake my head. “I’m good.” He doesn’t go to the bar, but heads across the room to the old jukebox instead. He taps a few buttons, and returns to our table just as a familiar song begins to play. ‘Alone with You’ by Jake Owen. Memories floor me, so vivid I can almost taste the sea salt on his skin. “You remember,” I breathe. Finn’s smile is almost sad in the dim light. “How could I forget?” It was the last day of winter break, before school began. We drove out of town, all the way to Beachwood Bay, and this song followed us all day long. No matter what station we changed to on the radio, it was there. It was playing in the crab shack where we stopped for lunch, and at the gas station on the way. We spent the whole afternoon on the cold, winter sand, bundled up in jackets and scarves, kissing and talking under the pale sun. There was something bittersweet about that day. The whole vacation we’d been in our own private world, but tomorrow, we’d have to get back to reality again. But for those long, sweet hours, it felt like anything was possible, lazily kissing in the hollow of the dunes, watched over by the gulls as our hands, and mouths, and tongues explored each other ’s body, fevered under the chilled breeze. And later, on our way home: detouring into the dark of the woods, this familiar anthem playing over again as we took all the liberties we couldn’t out in the light of day. Mouths searching; the hot press of his weight on me. The line I’d never crossed before.

I swallow, snapping back to the dim, noisy bar and Finn’s watchful gaze. My heart is pounding, skin as flushed as that afternoon on the beach. “I have to…” I stammer, my old tongue-tiedness returning as I struggle to push the emotion aside. “Bathroom,” I finally manage, before bolting out of the booth and down the back hallway to the sanctuary of the dark, chipped stall. I catch my breath, head spinning with memories. It feels like I’m right back there, in that car, my body craving him with the same wild hunger. God, I’d forgotten how it felt. The way he looked at me, the way his touch could make me forget my own name. I’d never felt something so wild and intoxicating, a rush that blotted out all reason and consequence, and just made me demand more, closer, now. I learned the hard way that a feeling like that is hard to find. I splash cold water on my face, angry that my body is betraying me all over again. It’s one thing to be reckless and hormonal when you’re sixteen and it’s the first time a boy has ever touched you, but now? You’re better than this, I tell myself sternly. Even though I know, deep down, that it’s a lie. This was a mistake. I thought one drink would be OK, but it’s already too much. Now I’m reliving all the burning, sensual memories, and dealing with the knowledge that none of it made a difference to him. For all those hot, sleepless nights we spent tangled up in each other, it didn’t stop him from leaving without goodbye. It didn’t save me from the heartbreak that followed. I know better now. I know enough not to let it go so far. I finally leave the safety of the bathroom. To my relief, Finn isn’t alone at our table; a group of guys has stopped by to say hello. I use the chance to slip through the crowd and escape back out onto the street. It’s late now, and the ocean wind whips around me, a welcome relief on my hot skin. I hug my arms around myself, twenty steps down the street before I hear footsteps behind me, and Finn’s voice. “You forgot your purse.” I turn. He’s holding out my bag. “Thanks.” I snatch it from him and back away. “It’s late, so I’m heading home.” “You’re walking?” He frowns. “It’s not far.” “I’ll go with you.” “No, thanks, I’m fine.” I insist, and start walking away from him again. But Finn falls into step beside me. “Really,” I sigh. “This is Oak Harbor, what do you think’s going to happen to me?” “Nothing, because I’m walking you home.” Finn’s voice is stubborn, and I know I’m on the losing end of this battle, so I don’t argue again. I just keep walking, trying to corral the old emotions churning through me. Why did he have to come back? Why did he have to remind me of everything I used to feel, all those things I’ve told myself were just a dream? We walk in silence. Cars pass us by, the headlights flooding the dark street, but neither of us speaks. I wordlessly turn down the road towards the house, and Finn stays alongside me. The distance between us makes me ache. This is the one man I knew better than anyone in the world. I know his every last secret, all his hopes and dreams, but now I can’t even find a single thing to say. It’s been too much time, too much hurt. But still I feel it, those synapses firing just from his nearness and the faint drift of his aftershave on the chilled night breeze. I have to stuff my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for his hand, and twisting my fingers through his the way I always used to do. It’s just muscle memory, I tell myself. Old habits die hard. I can see the faint porch light of my place up ahead when Finn clears his throat. “Listen, Eva, I wanted to say.” He stops there on the dark road, with nothing but the moon to illuminate the shadowed

planes of his face. Finn looks reluctant, resigned. “About what happened, when I left—’ “Don’t.” I cut him off before he can try to justify what he did. My pride is all I’ve got now, and I can’t bear for him to know how thoroughly he broke my heart. “You don’t need to explain. Ancient history,” I add, with a forced little laugh. “It’s all over now. Thanks for walking me, but I’ve got it from here.” I turn to go, but then his hand is on my arm, pulling me back, pressing me hard against a wall of solid muscle. “Is that what you really think?” Finn demands, searching my face, just inches between us. There’s something raw in his voice, something wounded and real. “I…” I stop, caught in the intensity of his gaze. The feel of his body, the hot whisper of his breath on my skin, it’s overwhelming. And oh, those lips, so close… A hundred volts of electricity race through my numb, tired veins, short-circuiting my brain until I can’t think, can’t breathe. I can only feel him. All of him. I fight for air, my blood pounding in my ears. “Finn…” I whisper, pleading, but for what, I don’t know. And then his lips claim mine in an urgent, fevered kiss, and I realize what I’ve been waiting for since the moment he walked through those doors. This. Right here. Finn kisses me hard, yanking me closer and circling me with those taut, chiseled arms. His mouth is hot against mine, merciless and wild. He eases my lips apart, exploring the wet, hot depths as his tongue slides deeper, demanding. I buckle against him, sensation flooding through me. It’s lightning to dry wood, the sharp spark that roars to wildfire in an instant, the heat surging through my entire body. And God, I can’t get enough. My hands are in his hair. My body presses close against him, like I could mold myself to his form. The years melt away, obliterated by the force of our passion, so familiar but still so new. Every touch, every taste feels like a revelation. My Finn. Back again. He makes a low groan, sliding his hands lower, possessive, to cup my ass and bring me hard against him. Time is lost, gone forever as his lips take possession of me completely, and I match him kiss for kiss. Desire rages to life again, so sharp and craving. It’s like I’ve been sleepwalking for the past five years, and only just come back to life. The world bursts from black and white to glorious, vivid technicolor. Finn drags his mouth from mine, and slowly trails a path of sinful kisses along my jawline. I shiver. I’m melted, boneless, lost to the dark whisper of the cypress trees overhead and the feel of his lips, so sweet on my tender skin. He reaches my ear, and nibbles my lobe. I let out a breathy sigh that turns to a moan as his palm skims across my breast. “Look at me,” he whispers, in a low husky voice that sends molten honey pooling between my thighs. “Look at me, baby.” He tilts my chin up, so I have no choice but to stare into those stormy eyes, the face I’ve imagined so many nights in scenes just like this. He traces my lips with his thumb, and I shudder at the friction. Light-headed, dizzy with desire, I part my lips, ready for another kiss. Finn’s lips curl in a victorious smile. “Ancient history, huh?” he teases, stepping back. I blink, still reeling as cold air rushes to fill the space his warm body has left behind. Wait, what? Finn chuckles, and the smirk on his face snaps me back to reality. This is a game to him. My heart is racing, and I want him so bad, but I manage to wrestle my hormones under control.

He thinks he’s in control, but I can feel how much he wants me. Two can play that game. I give him my best swooning look. Which, to be fair, doesn’t take a whole lot of acting. Then I lean in, kiss a path along his jawline, all the way to that sensitive spot by his earlobe, the one that always drove him crazy. Right on cue, Finn tenses against me. “You know, you could come in…” I whisper softly in his ear. “Or…” “Or what?” Finn’s hands go around my waist, but I duck away from him. “Or you could take a cold shower.” I smile, and step back. “Sweet dreams!” I turn and saunter up to the house. I hear a disbelieving silence behind me, then Finn laughs. “Sweet dreams to you too, baby.”



Five. I barely get a wink of sleep. For hours, all I can do is replay that kiss, every heart-stopping, soulshaking, panty-twisting moment, until I’m tangled up in my sheets, so turned on and frustrated I could scream. Did he plan this? To stroll back into my life and turn it upside down? But why, after all this time? He couldn’t know what he did to me last time around, how breaking my heart sent my whole world off-kilter, like losing your balance so badly every moment has you grasping for solid ground. I went down the rabbit hole without him – chasing anything that wiped my pain away until I almost lost myself entirely. Now he’s back, a part of me is scared I’ll do it all over again. Is he just toying with me for kicks, to prove he’s still got a hold over me? But why go through all this trouble to get under my skin when he has women lined up to occupy his time? He could walk into any bar in the country – the world! – and have a girl fall at his feet. Even before his rock star days, Finn never wanted for female attention. Those soulful eyes and teasing grin made sure of that. So why, out of all the dive bars in all the world, did he have to walk into mine? The questions circle in my head until my poor, tired brain finally gives up the fight and falls into a restless sleep. I wake in the morning to pale light streaming through the drapes and a beautiful spring day outside my window. But inside, I’m still exhausted and confused. And all I want is Finn, right here, tangling these sheets with me and pressing me into the mattress with every hard inch of his-No, I tell myself sternly, leaping out of bed and forcing myself into the shower. Whatever games Finn is playing, I don’t have to join in. Just because he looks like a depraved angel and kisses like a god, I don’t have to turn into a simpering sixteen year old the minute he shows his face again. Kissing isn’t the only thing he knows how to do… I linger in the shower, letting my wandering hands soothe the ache of lust as I replay that kiss just one more time. The feel of his body, his hands sliding so possessive and right. I trace the path he touched, and then further still, delving deeper between my thighs until my body shudders with release, his face the only thing on my mind. I finally shut off the water and dry myself, already guilty that I let him back into my mind. Maybe my friends have a point. If I’d been dating more, clearly I wouldn’t have all this pent up sexual energy ready to explode the first time anyone strikes a match. Not just anyone. Finn. But then, he always did have this hold on me – awakening a side to me I’d never known before. And that first night… I flush to even think of it now. How fast I tumbled into his arms, and how it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was New Year ’s Eve of junior year, and I’d pretty much given up hope that he saw me as anything but a friend. All autumn, I’d been falling for him, counting down the minutes between our hallways conversations, or those precious moments when he drove me home. But every time we were together, he was nothing but a gentleman. He’d drop me off with a smile and a ‘see you around’. Meanwhile, I’d glimpse him sneaking out of school with senior girls, hear the murmurs of gossip about his latest hook-ups. So when a girl from drama club invited me to this big New Year ’s Eve party that the whole senior class was attending, I decided it was my one chance. I remember how I agonized over my outfit, even consulting Lottie and parading the different options around my room. I spent hours on my hair and makeup, trying to look like one of those cool girls Finn seemed to like, holding out a distant hope

that I could make him see me differently. Not just some kid sister figure or charity case, but older and mature. I wince to think of it now, but at sixteen, it felt like the most important thing in the world. My parents loaned me the car for the night – with strict instructions not to drink and drive – and off I set, to the biggest night in my teenage life. Except it didn’t work out as planned. Finn didn’t come. All night, I watched the door, my heart sinking as the hours ticked past. He didn’t show, and I felt like the biggest fool for even dreaming I could catch his eye. I snuck into one of the bathrooms and scrubbed my face clean of all that makeup, then left out the back door, driving aimlessly into the dark. I didn’t see the deer that ran out into the midnight road – and neither did the car coming in the other direction. I managed to swerve just in time, but the other car wasn’t so lucky. It struck the deer with a sickening crunch, then drove right off the road and into a ditch. When I recovered from the shock and scrambled out to help, I found Hank McKay unconscious behind the steering wheel, stinking of beer and cheap cigarettes. For some reason, I panicked and tried calling Finn. I got his voicemail, cursed my stupidity, and dialed 911 like I should have done the first time. The sheriff came and woke Hank. A tow-truck winched the car out of the ditch, and in the end I went home and straight to bed, feeling the failure of all my grand plans. My parents were still out at a neighborhood party, and Lottie was sleeping over at a friend’s place. I was alone in the house when I heard a rattle at the window. Somebody was throwing pebbles up from the yard below. I swung the pane open, sleepy and confused, and there he was: bathed in moonlight, a Romeo in his leather jacket wearing an irresistible smile. Finn. “You can’t sleep through New Year ’s,” he called up to me. “C’mon. Come take a drive.” I can still feel it, the possibility that shimmered in his beckoning invitation. Even if I’d known what was coming, and how that one decision would change the course of everything, I still don’t think I could have stayed away. He was inevitable. My temptation. Half a perfect world that was mine, just for a little while. I get dressed and drive over to the harbor for Saturday brunch, determined to get my life back to normal. Lottie and Dee are already stationed at our regular café on the pier, drinking Bloody Marys while Kit snoozes in his buggy. “So, how was the hot date?” Lottie greets me eagerly. They’ve already ordered, thank God, and the table is full of pancakes and coffee. I sit next to her and hungrily devour a crisp slice of bacon. “Sawyer didn’t show. He got caught up in an emergency.” “I know all about that.” Lottie waves. “Dee filled me in. I’m talking about Finn McKay.” “What?” My head whips around. “The hottie hot-tot rock star,” Dee agrees, smirking. “I said you had dibs.” For a terrible moment, I think she’s talking about the kiss, but then I realize, she just saw us together at the bar. “Oh, that’s nothing. We had a drink, caught up, then I headed home.” Lottie arches an eyebrow. “That’s it? Damn, I thought you’d finally get some action.” “Nope,” I say firmly, glad that sunglasses are hiding my eyes. “No action of any kind here. It’s an action-free zone.” Outside my shower, that is. Lottie perks up again. “Well, there’s still the vet. Marilyn Peterson heard from Debbie Hess that he has very steady hands.” I snort. “And how does that figure?” “That’s for you to find out,” Lottie winks, and I laugh, finally relaxing.

We dig in, catching up on Delilah’s potential new client and Kit’s big new passion for a duckie toy, and the rest of the thrilling gossip from our small town. The sun is bright over the water, and the boats bob gently nearby, crisp white against the waves. Surrounded by laughter and gossip, my tension lifts. I’m glad to be far away from dark, romantic streets and men I shouldn’t be kissing. “So, any more thoughts about your birthday?” I ask my sister, when finally there are nothing but empty plates and full stomachs. She’s turning twenty next week, and I want to plan something special for her. “I don’t care.” Lottie grins. “As long as there’s a babysitter and booze.” Delilah fakes shock. “You mean drinking underage? Scandalous.” Lottie snorts. She’s got Kit in her arms, bouncing him gently as he watches the gulls circle overhead. “Sure, because I can raise a kid, but one sip of champagne is just way too adult for me.” “Champagne, huh?” I whistle. “Expensive tastes. I was thinking more beer and barbeque.” Lottie smiles. “Really, anything is good. I just want to be able to dress up, stay out late, and pretend like I’m a normal twenty year old for one night.” “Normal is overrated.” Delilah yawns. “I barely even remember my twentieth. I think I got hammered on tequila and went back to the dorms with some basketball player?” She squints, like she’s trying to peer through the haze of time. Dee brightens. “Chris! No, wait, Clive?” She shrugs and takes another sip of her Bloody Mary. “Anyway, it wasn’t exactly epic.” “We can do better for you,” I reassure Lottie. “I’ve got the babysitter all lined up. It’ll be a great night.” “I don’t know.” She looks hesitant. “Your idea of a great night is staying in watching old episodes of Friends. Can Dee help you plan something? Not that I don’t appreciate it,” she adds, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “But you’re not exactly the party girl around here.” I try not to feel hurt. She doesn’t know a thing about my wild partying days. Ever since coming back to town, I’ve made it my mission to live a quiet life as possible. “Sure. Whatever you want. Dee?” “I’m on it.” Dee yawns. “Just one question: would you rather wake up in Charlotte with a strange tattoo, or Albuquerque with a minor rodeo star?” Lottie laughs. “As long as I don’t wake up with barf of my shirt and a guy wailing in the crib, I don’t care.” “I can’t promise that.” Delilah grins. We finish up, and once we’ve paid the check, Lottie happily passes all Kit’s diaper bags and toys over to me. I take him every Saturday while she works a shift at the salon, and I always love the time we spend together. “What’s the plan, Stan?” she rhymes, kissing him goodbye. “I was thinking a walk along the boardwalk, then maybe go visit the ducks and stop by the library.” “Go crazy.” She settles him in the stroller. “I’ve got a couple of clients this afternoon, but I should be done at the salon around four.” “See you then.” I hug Dee goodbye, and set off along the boardwalk, pushing the stroller while Kit yawns and waves his pudgy little arms at the gulls perching on the fence. My mind wanders back to Lottie’s comment. It’s ironic, her saying I don’t know how to party. She has no idea what I got up to in New York. Nobody does, not even Delilah. I kept those years under lock and key, hiding my wild nights and reckless days from everyone, even my parents. My own secret. Because the truth is, the things I did would shock them all: a blur of alcohol and pills, and nameless, faceless men. Looking back now, it feels like a stranger ’s life to me. I don’t know how it spiraled out of control, but it did. It happened so fast it made my head spin. After the heartbreak of senior year, I set off for drama school determined to leave my past behind and

prove I could survive without Finn. I could start my life fresh where nobody knew my name or the ache that still lingered. I remember taking that first cab ride over the Brooklyn Bridge and vowing that things would be different this time. I’d do whatever the hell I wanted, and not let anyone hurt me like that again. So I was. I threw myself into everything the city had to offer, and it turned out that my roommate, Gracie, was only too happy to take me along for the ride. She was a city girl, equipped with scarlet lipstick, sarcastic smiles, and all the insider information. Like which doormen looked the other way at the downtown clubs, and how to flirt your way to a free hit of molly at the Brooklyn raves that pounded into the night. With her, the party never stopped. Every night was a different club, every morning waking up to a killer hangover in some stranger ’s bed. It soon blurred together, metallic as the day-old soda I would use as mouthwash before stumbling into morning class. Months slipped by while I barely kept my grades above water. All the while, my heartbreak didn’t seem to mend. It was still there once the high wore off, reminding me of everything I lost. Everything I was supposed to be. Rock bottom didn’t hit all at once. It crept up on me slowly, a series of long, empty weeks with something itching under my skin. Call it my conscience, maybe, or just the realization that I wasn’t fixing anything like this, but I wanted so badly to be numb that I pushed the voice aside and partied harder. I stopped going to auditions, stopped showing for workshops, just spent hours wandering the city, feeling like there was a sheet of glass between me and the world. There was something broken inside me, something I couldn’t shake, so I tried to drown it instead. I turned off the part of me that was hurting and insecure, and buried those feelings so deeply beneath tequila and sweet little pills that they would never come up for air. And then I woke up in a strange apartment one morning, next to a man I didn’t even recognize. I didn’t remember meeting him, couldn’t even recall what party I’d been at the night before. It was all a blur to me – a sick whirl of empty faces and names I’d rather forget. I crept out of bed, desperately snatching my clothes from the bedroom floor to sneak out, and that’s when the door opened. Another half-naked guy came strolling in. ‘Where you going, sugar?’ he’d sneered, scratching at his pot-belly. ‘We were just getting started.’ That moment lasted an infinity, between when his words sank in – turning my blood to ice in my veins - and when he finally snorted with laughter. ‘Just kidding,’ he’d winked. ‘Maybe next time.’ I didn’t know if he was lying. I didn’t know anything for sure anymore. I could have fucked them both, or I could have been passed out all night, untouched in bed. I didn’t know the difference, and that scared me more than anything had or will again. In that instant, I knew it was over. It had to be. Finn had taken my heart with him when he left, but this mess? It was all on me. I was out of control, and if I didn’t find a way back, I would pay the price. So when Lottie broke the news she was pregnant, and we all scrambled to figure out how to support her, I leapt at the chance like the lifeline it was, using it as an excuse to get off that one-way road to nowhere and come back to the person I wanted to be. I left that spinning, desperate girl in another city, and shed that skin like it had never existed at all. And I’m glad I came back. I wouldn’t have missed this time with Kit for the world, and I know it’s been a huge help to Lottie having a babysitter on call to take him off her hands, even if it’s only for a few hours. Still, there’s a part of me that wonders. If I’d taken a different path, would I be back in the city right now, making a life as an actress, going on auditions and winning those great, careermaking roles? Did I let my heartbreak and stupid self-destruction steer me so far off-course that there’s no getting back to who I wanted to be? I push away the thought and look around. Oak Harbor isn’t exactly a consolation prize. It’s a

beautiful part of the world with a real sense of community. If I was in the city, I’d be fighting my way through a crowded sidewalk, but here the air is crisp and clear, tangy with salt, and the bay curves lazily against the blue of the ocean. This is the life I picked, I tell myself. This is where I’m supposed to be. I keep strolling, but suddenly a brave gull flies too close. It settles on the rim of the stroller and peers inside. Kit lets out a startled cry. “Shoo!” I try to scare it away, but it’s too late. By the time the bird moves on, Kit is wailing so loud, I swear they could hear us all the way across town. He used to be such a placid guy, but these days he’s getting a head start on his terrible twos. “It’s OK, big guy,” I lift him out and bounce him gently. “See? All gone. It’s just you and me, kiddo.” I keep soothing him. Kit keeps crying. His face is screwed up and red, and he’s bawling for dear life. I try distracting him with a bottle, his favorite toy, anything I can to make him stop. But the boy just keeps screaming. I’m at my wit’s end when I see someone come towards me, jogging on the sandy asphalt. I cringe, hoping it’s not one of the perfect local moms to give me a disapproving glare, but as the figure gets closer, I realize it’s Finn. Shirtless. In grey track pants – and nothing else. My stomach flips over, but I don’t have time to steel myself – or quiet Kit - before he sees me. Finn slows, and comes to a stop alongside. “Good morning, sunshine.” I’m tongue-tied. All I can remember is the feel of his hands on me. Not distant memories, safely in the past, but just a few hours ago. I stare at him, my head spinning. God, why does he look so good? When I exercise, I’m red-faced and panting, but Finn is barely out of breath. Sweat gleams off his muscular torso. I felt those muscles as he held me tightly against his chest, but without the thin layer of cotton draped over him, his body is something else. Sweaty. Gleaming. Taut. A drop of sweat drips down the valley of his abs. “And who’s this?” Finn doesn’t seem to notice my brain-freeze. “That’s an awfully big noise for such a little guy.” “Oh.” I pull it together. “Sorry, this is Kit. He had a run-in with a gull, and took it pretty bad.” Finn chuckles, but then I see him look to the toddler in my arms and back at me. He furrows his brow. “How old is he?” he asks carefully. “Almost two.” I keep bouncing Kit. “And his dad?” “Not in the picture anymore.” “I guess I’ve been out of the loop a while.” Finn clears his throat, looking seriously uncomfortable. I could put him out of his misery and clear this up right now, but I have to admit, it’s pretty fun watching him squirm. “A lot’s happened since you left.” I say pleasantly. Kit’s wailing goes up another level, and I turn back to him. “Shh, it’s OK.” “Let me.” Before I can protest, Finn lifts Kit out of my arms, and expertly places him against his shoulder, bouncing gently on the spot. To my amazement, Kit calms. “How did you…?” “My tour manager had a newborn, so the whole family came on the road with us,” Finn explains. He keeps bouncing Kit. “It was ten guys and a little lady. We all learned how to change a diaper pretty fast.” “They should make a movie,” I say faintly. I look at them – Finn, with a baby in his arms – and the loss hits me so hard, I can barely breathe. The things I never told him. The things nobody knows. Finn doesn’t notice my reaction. After another few moments bouncing, he sets Kit back in the

stroller, now content and calm. “He’s got your nose,” Finn remarks, studying Kit. “It’s Lottie’s nose too,” I say, recovering. “She’s his mom, after all.” He blinks. Realization dawns. “Oh. Oh, okay. Good. I mean, that he takes after her. It’s a good nose.” He clears his throat, awkward. Is it me, or does he look relieved? I shouldn’t care. I don’t care. “About last night,” I say, needing to make things clear. “It shouldn’t have happened.” Finn’s gaze travels lazily up to meet mine. He arches an eyebrow. “Is that so?” I flush. “We got carried away with… nostalgia. Old time’s sake. But it was wrong, and it won’t happen again.” One kiss was bad enough. If it happens again, I know there’s no way in hell we won’t wind up in bed. Or a backseat. Or anyplace I can get my hands on him. So I cross my arms firmly and try to stare him down, but Finn just gives me that bourbon smile – dangerously sweet and intoxicating. “Are you afraid I’ll do it again?” he asks. My heart lurches just thinking about another kiss. “Or…” he muses, stepping closer. “Are you afraid you’ll like it?” I can feel it again, the heat rising, burning at the edges of all my good sense and determination. I want to argue, to tell him to stay away from me, but deep down, I know he’s right. I would like it. Too much. Finn smiles, as if he can tell how he’s affecting me, but just before he can prove himself right, his cell phone rings. It breaks through the moment with its loud, insistent ring. Finn laughs. “Saved by the bell, sweetheart,” he says, stepping back. I don’t need another invitation. I steer the stroller around and head quickly back towards town, leaving Finn there on the boardwalk all alone.



Six.

FINN. I watch her walk away, hips swaying and sunlight catching in her hair. I thought after all this time it would be different, that things might have changed. But just the sight of her hits me in the chest like a goddamn bullet, same as the very first day. The best thing I’ve ever done and my biggest regret, all wrapped up in one heart-stopping package. Eva. She pauses by the pier to lean over the stroller with her nephew, lifting him out and swinging him in the air. I can see it now, how much he looks like Lottie. But I swear, the world nearly dropped out when I thought he might be hers. I knew she would have moved on - hell, we both should have by now – but there’s a difference between knowing something in theory, and being faced with her gorgeous, lush body and imagining it under some other guy’s hands. Not on my watch. Every second I spend with her is a battle not to yank her closer and kiss her until she’s gasping for more. Last night I came close, damn, so close to taking her straight to bed. Now I wonder if I was a fool not to take that chance when I had it. She wants me, and fuck if I don’t need her more than ever. My cell phone keeps ringing, so I finally turn away from the past and answer. “Kyle, what part of ‘vacation’ don’t you understand?” “Man, you’re going to want to get on a plane and come right back when you hear what I’ve got lined up for you.” My manager sounds pumped, but then he always does. Kyle is two parts Jerry Maguire, and one part your annoying kid brother who just won’t quit. But he’s the best in the business, the one who took a chance on me from the start. “I’m not interested,” I try to interrupt, but Kyle keeps steamrolling. “SNL, baby!” he whoops. “They want you as the musical guest this weekend!” I take a breath. Saturday Night Live? It’s a big deal, the kind any musician would kill for. Millions of viewers, a guaranteed boost in sales. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned on the road, it’s that there are some things more important than another number one hit. Like the girl in the cut-offs walking away from me, her tanned legs making me crazy for just a single touch. “Sorry,” I tell him. “Tell them to book someone else.” Kyle groans. “Come on, man, you’re killing me! I already turned down another leg of the tour so you could have a break, but this is one night. One tiny studio show. You could be on a plane and back in Beech Bay by Monday.” “Oak Harbor,” I correct him, heading back towards town. “And you know it’s never just one night. You’ll be hounding me back into the studio before I’ve had a chance to breathe.” “Yeah, well your third album won’t write itself,” Kyle grumbles. “And you know this one’s the big kahuna. The debut got you cred, the follow-up was the smash, and then this one’ll take it to the next level. Total world domination. Just look at Adele!” I have to appreciate his faith in me. He’s the one who found me playing at an open-mic in Austin and swore I could make it all the way to the top. Still, when it comes to the grind, Kyle doesn’t get it. He stayed in LA through most of our tour, working the business end and only flying out to a few big shows, so he doesn’t know what it takes out of me. He doesn’t know how I give my all to an audience, and then get right back out there and do it again the next night, and the next. “Unless you want the

whole record to be about insomnia and the inside of a tour bus, you’re going to have to give me some time.” “I get it, refilling the creative well. Look, I’m on your side. You wouldn’t believe the way the label’s hounding me. But I told them, I said ‘Finn’s gone fishing’. That’s why this SNL gig would get them off my back.” His voice turns pleading. “Buy us some time for this vacation of yours.” “Don’t act like I’m bailing on you,” I warn him. “I’ve been out there for two straight years, and it’s not just me. My band was about ready to kill you by the time I called it, and they still might if I drag them back before they’ve had a chance to recover.” “So we make it a solo show.” Kyle keeps pushing. “You, acoustic, unplugged—” “I’m hanging up on you.” “No, no, wait!” Kyle calls. I reluctantly lift the phone back up. “I’ll see if I can push them a couple of weeks.” “A couple of months,” I correct him. “Same thing. Whenever you’re done getting back to your roots. What are you doing down there, anyway?” Kyle asks. “You swore you’d never step foot back in that town.” I think of Eva in my arms last night, and how her body pressed against me, her mouth demanding everything. I meant what I said to her: this isn’t over, not by a long shot. “I’ve got my reasons.” I head back to the house, admiring its stately glory. I knew from the look on Eva’s face as she walked up the front path this was the place I’d take. I’d have rented a shack on the cliffs if she’d smiled the way she did when she opened the front door here, but this is better. Not bad for a kid who grew up in a rundown house on the wrong side of the tracks, barely one step up from a trailer. I guess I should be used to it by now, the zeros in my bank account. Kyle tells me the way the record is selling, I could buy myself a private jet and still have plenty left over for change. But a part of me still feels like I’m living paycheck to paycheck and working every last dollar to get by. I head up the path – and find someone waiting for me on the front steps. Sheriff Keller. “Bill.” I stop, wary right away. “Everything okay?” “Don’t worry, son,” he chuckles. “This is a personal visit, not business.” I give him a wry smile. “You know me, nothing to hide.” Bill snorts, probably remembering the days I spent thumbing my nose at the law in this town. He always cut me a break because he was friends with my dad. They served together back in the day, and I dread to think what kind of juvie record I’d have under my belt if he hadn’t looked the other way. “How’s Marcie?” I ask. “And the kids?” “Oh, you know.” Bill rolls his eyes. “My youngest just discovered boy bands, and Chris came back from school with a ballpoint pen tattoo. Whole damn thing’s infected now. Serves the kid right.” “I can give him the name of a real tattoo artist, if you like.” Bill glares. “Don’t you go giving him ideas.” I wonder what brought him out here. Bill just strolls to the end of the porch and looks around. “Nice place you’ve got here. I heard they fixed this place up.” “Yup.” “Staying long?” “A couple of months, maybe.” I keep watching him. “You want something to drink?” “No thanks, son.” He sticks his hands in his pockets, looking awkward. “You been by the graveyard yet?” Every bone in my body turns to lead. I slowly shake my head. “I know you couldn’t make it back, but we did it up right.” Bill says, somber. “A soldier ’s burial,

had some of the boys down from Fort Bragg. It wasn’t a twenty-one gun salute, but it was something. I saved the flag for you, if you want to come by--” “No. Thanks,” I add, through gritted teeth. Bill clears his throat. “Look, it’s none of my business, but I told your dad I’d keep an eye out for you, after he went.” I wonder whose idea that was. I’m guessing Bill’s, because my pop never gave a damn how I was doing while he was still alive. But I know Bill’s only trying to help, so I keep my tone even, hiding the anger in my blood. “As you can see, I’m doing just fine.” He nods thoughtfully. “And we’re all real proud of you.” He waits another moment, but I don’t offer anything more, and eventually he sighs. “Well, you just let me know if you change your mind. I still have some of his things: memorabilia, old mementos he wanted you to have.” My fists stay clenched at my sides. “Keep them.” Bill nods again, his expression regretful. “Take care. And watch that speed limit,” he adds, turning to leave. “No more drag racing down Main Street!” I watch him go, frozen in place there on the porch with every muscle in my body clenched and alert until he gets back into his patrol car and slowly drives away. I slowly exhale, forcing myself to relax. He means well, I remind myself. Hell, he probably thought he was doing me a favor, stopping by with word from my old man. He always did try to help. Back in the old days, he was the one who kept Hank out of jail, scraping him off the sidewalk at three in the morning to cool off in the drunk tank. Bill meant well, I know, but sometimes I wonder if he wasn’t complicit in the whole damn thing. Maybe my father might have been forced to shape up if he saw any real consequences. But then I remind myself my dad had plenty of chances to change. He was scarred too deep, broken in ways nobody could fix. Back then as a kid, I didn’t understand. After mom left, I thought at first I was the one failing him, always making him mad, provoking that whiplash rage that would make him fly off the handle and reach for his belt. I tried so damn hard to keep things quiet, tip-toing around him like an intruder in my own home, scared he would leave me, too. By the time I was old enough to realize it wasn’t my fault, I dove headlong into anger instead. I was so damn mad at him for driving mom away, for drinking himself into an early grave, for never being the father other kids got to have. I’d see the town fathers out around, standing on the sidelines during ballgames, or showing up to parent-teacher nights at school, and it would hurt like hell, the deep-down, empty ache. I was left to struggle alone with that ticking time-bomb getting drunk in the next room. Meanwhile there were men like Bill, who somehow managed to put scars of war behind them, to show up and be decent for their family. But I was never first for my father. I ranked somewhere below a bottle of Jack Daniels, and bitter memories of the past. We co-existed for as long as possible under the same roof, coming to blows a fair few times. I was counting down the days until my escape. I’d stick around long enough to graduate, and then be gone from that silent house. I had it all worked out. And then came Eva. I unlock the door and head inside. What hits me first is the silence. Not tense, or angry, like the way my old place used to be whenever my old man was waiting drunk and bitter in the next room. This is all warmth and sunshine, the rays falling through the big windows and lazily melting over bare wooden floors. It feels the way a home is supposed to, the way Eva’s house did whenever I’d stop by: somewhere to laugh and talk like a real family, not two strangers trapped together out of loathing and twisted DNA. No, this is a real home. Never mind the memories still sleeping out back by the creek. This morning, though, I know that those red-hot memories are dangerous territory, so I take a

sub-zero cold shower to get my head clear and thinking straight. But all the cold water in the world can’t shake the heat when I think about Eva – about the curves of her gorgeous body, and those ripe lips just begging for a kiss. And more. Damn, she’s not the innocent girl I used to know, and it’s sexy as hell. She’s grown up. I don’t just mean her knock-out body, but the look in her eyes, too. Five years ago, she almost seemed surprised by the force of our passion, but kissing her last night, I saw she knew exactly what she was doing. How to drive me crazy. How to leave me panting for more. In the bright light of day, she can try to deny it, but we were about ten seconds away from tearing each other ’s clothes off and fucking right there in the street. So why the hell did I stop? Because this matters. Because when I take Eva again, all the way, I want her to be begging for it. No going back. She’s the reason I’m here, after all. Kyle was right. I swore I’d never come home again. I didn’t think there was anything, or anyone, worth coming back to. Eva would be long gone the minute she hit graduation, off to drama school in New York, or Chicago, maybe. One of those big-city schools she would talk about with such excitement, those nights I held her in my arms and listened as she painted a picture of the future. Me, I had a different path in store. I spent my first couple of years after leaving town drifting around, working bartender gigs and construction in Austin, and Oakland, and Kansas City. I didn’t know where I was heading. I just knew I needed to put as much distance between me and Oak Harbor as possible – far enough to keep me from turning around those dozen times I hit rock bottom and driving back home for her. It wasn’t easy, staying away. I tried drinking myself into oblivion, and screwing every last girl who looked my way. I was desperate to forget the laughter in Eva’s eyes, or the way she’d curl her body around me. Looking back, it’s a miracle I didn’t drink myself into an early grave – or get pushed in there by some vengeful guy whose woman spent the night in my bed. But even then, I knew it couldn’t last. I would hear my old man’s voice in my head, taunting me, saying I was a loser, just like him. I was proving him right, every time I rolled home drunk, and none of it came close to filling the aching space where my heart used to be. Hell, nothing made me feel a damn thing at all, until one night I put the bottle aside and picked up my guitar instead, and managed to pour all my hurt and guilt and damn self-loathing into a song. That was the moment it all turned around. That was when I saw a light at the end of the tunnel – and maybe even a way to earn Eva back, one day. I gigged solidly around town, playing any dive bar or coffee shop that’d have me, until finally Kyle happened to stop by a show one night – and the rest is history. But Eva was never far from my mind. After the record started building, and I’d play a show in a new city every other night, I would wonder if she was out there. Maybe just a few blocks away, or even standing in the crowd. Was she living her dreams, becoming a great actress the way she’d always wanted? Did she still hate me for leaving her without that goodbye, or did she understand I’d had no choice, and that giving her a future on her own was the only noble thing I could do? I swear I thought I saw her a hundred times over, a thousand-volt shock to my heart every time. It was worth it just to imagine she was out there, experiencing everything she wanted from the world. Until I ran into a guy from school in a bar one night, and heard Eva was right back where we started in Oak Harbor. No big acting plans, no wild adventures. She was here, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. I booked my ticket that same night, despite the darkness I left behind in this town. Nothing could have kept me away from her, but now that I’m back, I have more questions than ever before – and a bad feeling about those shadows in her clear, hopeful eyes. So what happened? Because this isn’t the girl I used to know. The girl I remember is sharp and wild and breathless and hungry, that shy exterior hiding a heart so deep and true it could renew even

my tired and lonely bones. She drove me crazy with desire and awe, made me want to be a better man, enough to turn my back and put her first, even when it broke my heart to go. Leaving didn’t make a damn bit of difference: that girl has haunted me every night since I left this town. In the crowd of every show, living in the lyrics of every last song I write. I’ve kept her with me in my mind and heart, waiting for the day I could catch even a glimpse of her again. But now I’m back, everything’s changed. I didn’t see it that first afternoon. I was too busy trying not to drag her into my arms and kiss her until the years and leaving didn’t matter anymore. She’s still more beautiful than any girl has a right to be, still shy and smart-tongued and generous to a fault. But now I’m through the first glance shock of having her right here in real life again, something doesn’t add up. She was so cool and contained last night at Dixie’s, like she was weighing every word before it left her lips, watching me steadily with those heartbreaker eyes. Maybe this ice queen act is just for me. Hell, I know I deserve it after the way I left things last time around. But then I see it again; the spark in her eyes, the teasing edge to her perfect lips, hints that the old Eva isn’t gone forever. It’s the only thing that gives me hope, and the reason I had to kiss her again. I had to break through those careful defenses and know for sure the passionate, wild girl I knew is still beneath the surface. That, and the fact that all I’ve wanted in the world for five long years is a chance to taste her sweet mouth again, to feel her undone and panting in my arms. Where she belongs. Maybe it’s a shot in the dark, and I’m only dredging up painful memories for the both of us, but I can’t help hoping that maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance for me to change the ending to this tragedy I wrote.



Seven.

EVA. I wake full of energy, determined to get things back to normal. Finn’s games are just a distraction, I remind myself, sending me down the rabbit hole of memories and long-forgotten desire. I was doing just fine before he waltzed back into town, and I’ll be even better when he waltzes back out– off to his new life in the spotlight again. A kiss means nothing. Child’s play. Hell, we got up to way worse when we were teenagers, and now I’m a grown woman, it shouldn’t even be a blip on my radar. But damn, what a kiss that was. I shower and dress in some cutoffs and a sweater, then set about planning my day. Lottie teases, saying I’m old before my time, but I love the quiet solitude of my routine here, getting things in order and enjoying the silence before the week ahead. Usually I dive straight into chores, but today, I find myself heading for the mudroom downstairs, and the old trunk I’ve been hauling from housesitting gig to housesitting gig all year. My acting crate. I lift the lid, and feel a strange pang of wistfulness in my chest. It’s all here, from the printed pages of my very first role in the school play, to the old vintage books I’d order online and then learn by heart, muttering the great monologues in my dark bedroom at night until the words were printed deep on my soul. I fish out an old velvet cloak, musty now, from my turn as Lady Macbeth in the senior play. I remember mom recording it, proud in the front row. How that audition reel got me my big break at drama school in New York. I still know those lines better than anything, how it felt to be onstage captivating the room with every word. “Out, out damn spot,” I whisper under my breath. It’s funny how my speech impediment never tripped me up on-stage. I was still stumbling through my sentences when a teacher assigned us a poem to learn for class. I was so nervous getting up in front of the class, I wanted to die. They would all laugh at me, I just knew it. But when I opened my mouth, the words came out perfectly, so clear it’s like I didn’t have a problem at all. It was like a ray of sunshine cutting through the darkness of all my pain and insecurities. I realized that I could recite other people’s words without hesitation. There was something about having a script that gave me the confidence I needed. That’s when I fell in love with acting. Bringing someone else’s character to life, I could speak clearly, fearlessly. No stumbling, no stammering, no hot flush of shame. I was good enough. No, scratch that. I was great. I still wonder; if I hadn’t dropped out of drama school, would I have had a chance to make it? I know it’s a one in a million dream, but I feel like I bailed before I even tried. I was too busy trying to drown out my heartbreak to focus on my craft. Other classmates went to auditions every morning before school, and spent their nights in extra workshops and sessions. But by then, I was already swept up in the glitter of neon highs, chasing the party from dive bar to flashing clubs in a futile effort to wipe Finn from my mind and heart. I went off track, and blew my one chance to chase my dreams. Could I have made it? I guess I’ll never know. I close the case with a sigh, turning my attention back to the day ahead. I stop by the rescue first to visit with all the dogs. Edith is out when I arrive, and my chores there take no time at all, so after checking on the puppies and Chester, I head to the grocery

store in the next town. I know Lottie passed party-planning duties over to Dee, but I can’t help picking out some balloons and streamers in bright, cheerful colors. Then there’s her favorite ice cream cake, cookies, chips. My cart is almost full before I rein myself back in and start ticking off my own list. My phone buzzes as I’m stocking up on paper towels. It’s Sawyer. I check the message, smiling. ‘It turns out most vets are failed stand-up comics. Save me from jokes about bitches and hos’. I tap back a response. “I’m afraid I’m neutered on that.” ‘oww.’ He sends a dog emoji. ‘See you when I get back.’ I put my phone away, feeling better already, but my good mood lasts only another ten paces, far enough for me to turn the corner and run straight into Cami Foster. I cringe and try to turn my cart around, but it’s way too heavy to make a subtle exit. She sees me and lets out a gasp. “Eva! Oh my god! How are you?” “Great!” I answer, forcing a smile. Cami was the queen bee of our high school, and from the looks of things, she hasn’t changed. She’s still got the glossy blond hair, and a tanned perfect body squeezed into white shorts and a peach-colored blouse. “How’s things?” “Oh, you know.” Cami gives a little shrug. “Just back to visit the parents. I live in Atlanta now, with my fiancé.” She thrusts her left hand out to show off her massive diamond engagement ring, like I’m supposed to kiss it. “Wow,” I murmur politely. “Congratulations.” “What about you?” she coos. “I heard you and Delilah are realtors now. That’s just so cute. And there you were voted ‘most likely to succeed’. Funny how things turn out.” She gives a smug little giggle, and my heart sinks. I wish I could reply with some kind of smart comeback, but my mind comes up blank. Cami’s eyes go to my cart, stuffed full of junk food. She makes a tutting noise. “Oh, Eva, honey, what are you doing? You know I’ve been training as a nutritionist? I’d be, like, so happy to give you some pointers on clean eating.” Her expression turns earnest. “There’s nothing more important than what we put in our bodies.” “She knows that.” A pair of strong arms slide casually around me. I make a noise of surprise as Finn reaches past me to shake her hand with a charming smile. “Finn McKay. Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” “Ma’am?” Cami echoes, flushing. “Finn, it’s me: Cami! I love your music,” she adds breathlessly. “I have every record, and go to all your shows.” “Cami.” Finn furrows his brow. “Oh yeah. You used to waitress at the Corner Stop, right?” “No.” Cami is bright red now. “We went to high school together.” “We did? Huh. How about that?” Finn turns back to me and gives an easy smile. “And I’m usually so good with faces.” I’m torn between being annoyed that he’s shown up again, and delighted that he’s winding Cami up so easily. There’s a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye, like we’re in this together. “So what are we talking about?” he asks me, ignoring her. “Healthy eating.” I smile back. “Apparently, my body is a temple.” “Damn right it is.” Finn’s gaze slides lower, and when he looks up again, there’s a hungry look in his eyes that makes my stomach curl. “Any time you want a Sunday worship, you let me know.” I try not to flush. I’m standing in the middle of a crowded grocery store, and somehow he makes me feel like we’re alone in the world. Focus, Eva. No distractions. I pull my gaze away from him. Cami is still standing there, but she’s looking between us with something like disbelief. “Are you two?” She pauses, like she can’t even bring herself to say the words.

Finn chuckles. “Not through lack of trying.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “I’ve been begging this one to give me a chance, but she keeps giving me the brush-off. Hey, you’re a woman,” he says, looking at Cami. “Any ideas how I can win her over?” Cami gapes, wordless. “I… Um…” “I know, it’s a tough one,” Finn agrees. “But I guess when you’re as beautiful and intelligent as Eva, you’ve got your pick of every guy in town.” He gives me another smoldering look, and even though I know it’s just for show to get under Cami’s skin, I still feel that heat calling out in answer. I look away, blood rushing to my cheeks. “Well, we shouldn’t keep you,” Finn says at last to Cami. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than hang out here, peering into people’s grocery baskets.” Cami blinks. “Sure. Of course.” “You take care now.” Finn gives a final smile then turns his back, ignoring her completely. I watch over his shoulder as Cami snaps back to life and goes scurrying away. “You shouldn’t have done that,” I tell Finn, trying to hide my grin. “Why not?” He reaches into my cart and pulls out an apple. He bites down with a crunch. “C’mon, did you see her face? She was always such a gossip in school.” “I know, but she still is. This will be all over the state by lunchtime.” I can already see Cami by the registers, talking furiously on her cell phone. “And you know in her version you were all over her.” “So? You really care what those lightweights think?” “No.” I sigh. “But I’d prefer they didn’t think about me at all.” “Too bad.” Finn meets my eyes. “You’re impossible to forget.” Awareness zings through me again, but this time, I remember all my earlier promises to myself – not to get distracted, or let his games tie me up in a tangle all over again. I grip my cart and give him a polite smile. “I better get going too. See you around.” I try to steer away from him, but Finn just falls into step beside me. “So what are we doing today?” he asks. “We aren’t doing anything. I have chores and errands.” “Glamorous.” Finn doesn’t seem to notice my cool tone. He reaches up and plucks a package from the shelf and puts it in my cart. “Finn!” “What? You like Wheaties.” I pause, and look at the package. He’s right. I do like Wheaties. “I can get my own,” I tell him, putting them back. “I am capable of doing my own shopping.” “I don’t doubt it.” “So why are you following me around?” “For the warm and pleasant company?” “Finn!” I stop in the middle of the aisle, my frustration boiling over. “What are you doing?” I demand. “Trying to help you with the high shelves.” He grins at me, boyish and unconcerned. “But I guess my help isn’t welcome.” “Stop it,” I say, suddenly feeling an ache too sharp for words. “Please, Finn. Whatever you’re playing at, it’s not funny.” His smile slips at the edges, but I push on. “The house hunt, the kiss the other night, it’s not a game to me. This is my life, and you can’t just walk in and turn everything upside down like this. It’s not fair on me, okay? None of this is fair!” I can hear the twisted pain on that final word. I hate that I can’t just play along and laugh it off, but it hurts too much. It’s all too real for me.

There’s silence. I search his face, for clues, but Finn’s expression is impossible to read. Finally, he looks back at me, those blue eyes soft and warm. “You’re right,” he says gently. “I’m sorry.” Sorry for what? I want to ask. Leaving me all those years ago? Never reaching out? Strolling back like nothing happened? Or kissing me like nobody’s ever kissed me – since you? But Finn doesn’t say another word. He takes the Wheaties down again and puts them in my cart, then walks away, strolling to the end of the aisle without looking back. I sink against the wall of cereal and try not to cry. I should be glad. I stood my ground, and he respected my wishes. So why do I feel like I wished he had stayed? Back at home, I unload the groceries and try to banish all thought of Finn. I have plenty to do: cleaning, laundry, planning my meals for the week ahead. Usually, I relish the time alone. Today, though, the house seems too quiet, so I leave the windows wide and play old country songs on the radio, trying to lose myself in the brisk activity. I dust and wipe, vacuum and clean. This house belongs to the Petersons, who bought it a couple of years back but spend most of their time in Arizona now. It’s one of my favorites to housesit, a rustic, woodsy place with creaking beams and a big old working fireplace that keeps the whole house warm in winter. Delilah keeps saying I should convince them to put in on the market and score a sweet commission for making the sale, but I guess I just don’t have the ruthless streak it takes to be a real estate agent. I understand why they want to keep it around. I can’t help wondering how Finn’s settling into the big house by the creek, if he’s rattling around there alone, or if he has friends in already from out of town. When I told the owners who was interested in taking it, they tripled the price they wanted in rent, but I guess it was still pocket change to Finn. It’s weird to think of him now, such a big star, when it seems like he’s barely changed at all. Sure, he’s a little taller, more cocky and charming, and that hair is falling longer in his eyes, but he seemed at ease at Dixie’s the other night. It was like he doesn’t have platinum-selling records on the wall somewhere and people on the other side of the world who know his name. I’m glad fame hasn’t changed him. Despite everything that happened between us, I never stopped wanting the best for him, for him to get everything we’d dreamed about on those long nights together. To make a life for himself somewhere, away from here. Emphasis on the far. I find myself digging out my phone again and hooking it up to the speaker system to play his debut album out loud. The chords slip sweetly through the empty rooms, so familiar now that I know them all by heart. I must have played this record a hundred times over, memorizing each lyric and searching every word for some hint about his life. I remember the first time I heard the first single; I nearly hit the floor right there in the middle of the crowded Manhattan coffee shop. I thought I was hallucinating at first, hearing Finn’s voice slip through the speakers, that I’d conjured him up out of heartache and sheer longing. But no, when I haltingly asked the guy behind the counter who it was playing, and he told me Finn’s name, I swear my heart skipped a beat. He was out there, in the world. He hadn’t just vanished completely. I wish I could say I didn’t go off the deep end a little, but I’m only human. I must have googled every last piece of information I could find, reading his interviews with music blogs and streaming his grainy live performances online. Whoever was playing his music that day in the café must have been ahead of the trend, because soon Finn was everywhere. A genuine smash hit, climbing the charts and covering every magazine with those blue eyes and soulful, almost bashful smile. In person, he could be infuriatingly arrogant, but in interviews he always seemed kind of uncomfortable, looking away from the camera and drumming his fingers restlessly. Which, of course, only added to his

appeal. The press speculated about his love life, gossiped like crazy about the latest cool singer or hot actress on his arm. Even here in town I would hear the rumors, traded over the checkout counter and morning cups of coffee. He was our claim to fame now, the wayward son made good, and even though it would have been easier if he’d just stayed gone, there’s a part of me that knew this was inevitable. One day, Finn would be coming home. I’m finishing up my laundry when there’s a knock at the door. “It’s open!” I yell, expecting Lottie and Kit to help make cookies, but instead, a male voice clears his throat behind me. “Cute panties.” I whirl around, clutching an armful of pink lace. He’s here. Finn. Standing in my kitchen, smirking at my underwear like the past three hours haven’t happened at all. “What are you doing here?” I flush, sweeping my clean laundry into the hamper. And worst of all, I realize too late that his album is still playing on loud. Finn pauses as the music slips out, unmistakable, and gives me a knowing grin. “It’s the radio,” I say, flushing, just as the song ends – and it moves to the next track on the album. “Uh huh.” The smile doesn’t shift. I glare. “Well? What do you want?” “You said the door was open.” Finn grins. I open my mouth to argue, then stop, registering the bouquet of roses in his hand. Not storebought, but the sweet-scented white ones that grow wild in the mansion gardens. I look back up at Finn. There’s something different about him. His hair is back in a neat man-bun, he’s wearing a button-down shirt, and are those…? “Slacks.” I say in disbelief. “You’re wearing slacks.” “Yes, ma’am.” He grins. “But why?” He shrugs. “I’m wooing you.” “You’re what?” The words sound so bizarre, I laugh out loud in shock. “Wooing,” he repeats, strolling closer and setting the roses on the kitchen counter. “In certain cultures, it’s tradition for a man to pursue a woman with romantic gestures and gifts. You know, flowers, candy, teddy bears from the county fair.” “I know what wooing is,” I tell him briskly, gathering up the rest of my clothes and walking past him into the hall. “But I don’t know why you’re trying it with me. Didn’t we just have a conversation about you quitting with all these games?” “This isn’t a game,” he says, following me to the stairs. He waits until I’ve put down the hamper, then pulls something from his back pocket. It’s a box of candy, chocolates. “Your favorites,” he adds, presenting them to me ceremoniously. “I even ate all the nutty ones you hate.” I stare at him, at his infuriatingly handsome face, and those smiling blue eyes, and the candy he’s handing out like he disappeared without a word. Five years, and he suddenly brings me a Whitman’s sampler. Is he for real? Yes, my heart tells me. Say yes. “I guess I should be flattered.” I try to joke it away. “Used to be all it took was a smile and a wink to get the girls in the backseat of your car.” “I’m a changed man.” Finn’s smile gets wider. “Sure you are.” “I drive a Mustang now.” He laughs. “The backseat’s heated. Not that we ever needed the help,” he

adds, giving me a slow burn grin. No, we didn’t. God, we steamed up the windows of that old car any chance we got. The memories play like a movie in my mind, how we would sneak away and park in the shade of the cypress trees. Some nights, we just talked, my head on his chest, so close I could hear his heart beat. It was the steadiest lullaby I’ve ever known. But other nights… I couldn’t have slept if you drugged me, the heady mix of desire ricocheting through my system. I drove my parents crazy, breaking curfew every other night to see him that summer until they pretty much gave up trying to keep me in my own bed. It was one of the perks of being a good girl, good student, great grades. I’d never misbehaved in my life, so I guess they trusted me enough to think I’d make the right call. Now, Finn smiles like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I’ll pick you up at eight.” He turns and saunters out the front door before I have a chance to realize what he’s just said. “Wait!” I go after him. “You can’t… I mean, I don’t…” Finn looks up at me from the bottom of the steps. “Sorry, but I’m all out of gifts. You’ll just have to wait until tonight.” I shake my head in frustration. I hate to show him that he’s getting under my skin, but I can’t play along any more. Every charming grin, every casual smile, it’s like a knife wound to my heart. “You have to stop this. Please, Finn.” My voice cracks. “This isn’t funny.” Finn’s smile fades. “I know, sweetheart. Like I said, see you at eight.” And then he’s gone, leaving me fuming on the front porch until I realize that for all my protests, I never actually turned him down.



Eight. I agonize all afternoon over what to do. A date is impossible. Unthinkable after everything that’s happened. Haven’t I been telling myself all day, no more games? But he promised it was different this time. I groan out loud. Why does he have to be so damn charming? I shouldn’t even be here when he comes back to pick me up. I could go to Lottie’s, and have dinner there and hang out¸ and leave Finn stranded on the front porch not knowing where the hell I am. That would teach him to be so arrogant, just assuming I’m going to drop everything because he strolls on by to say ‘hi’. Maybe I’d get to wipe that knowing smile off his face, the one that says he sees right through me and knows every last one of my secret thoughts. Or maybe I should give up, and fall headlong into those baby blues, to hell with the consequences. It’s six thirty by the time I give up trying to make a rational decision for myself. I call Delilah. “Help,” I beg her. “What’s up?” I can hear her chewing on something on the other end of the line. “I’m having a meltdown. Serious category-five-storm-warning-everything’s-going-to-hell kind of a meltdown.” “Is this about the vet?” “No!” I yelp, then feel guilty that I haven’t given Sawyer a second thought. I’ve been too busy getting tied up in knots over my ex to think about the man I should be dating. “It’s… Finn,” I admit. Delilah gasps. “I knew it!” She hangs up, but I know she won’t be long. Sure enough, it’s barely four minutes and counting before her VW bug races up the driveway and parks at an angle, slung across the front lawn. She climbs out, holding an open pizza box in one hand, and her curling iron in the other. “I brought supplies,” she announces. “Now you better sit your pretty ass down and tell me everything.” I do. Between stress-eating mouthfuls of pepperoni pizza, and half a pint of rocky road (to calm my nerves), I tell Delilah the whole story – at least, the edited version. “You sneaky girl,” she gasps when I’m finally done. “I had no idea. We all thought you were so shy and quiet in high school. All that time, you were having a wild, torrid affair with him?” I flush. “It wasn’t torrid.” Delilah snorts. “Sure it wasn’t.” She pauses thoughtfully. “Now it all makes sense, the way he looks at you. Like he’s gone vegetarian for the past five years, and you’re a juicy steak. He wants you baaaad.” “Well, he’s not getting me.” I wish again that we’d been closer friends back then, that she’d seen first-hand the damage his leaving did to me. Telling someone about a broken heart can never capture the true pain those simple words represent. To Delilah, it’s ancient history, but the heart doesn’t work that way. It can hurt and ache for a hundred years. Or just five long, lonely ones. “I’m serious,” I add, not sure who I’m trying to convince. “I can’t do this again. I just can’t.” “But you want to, right?” Delilah studies me. “I mean, just look at him. The eyes… the body… the voice…” “OK!” I cry. “I admit it. He’s hot. And the chemistry… it’s still there. Even stronger this time around.” I sigh mournfully. “What can I do about that?” “Short of locking yourself away in a dungeon, not much.” Delilah looks sympathetic. “Hormones are a bitch.”

“So you agree I can’t go out with him.” I nod, determined. “Or even be alone with him. Or in the same public space. Is it too late to move to Alabama for the month?” “Now wait a minute, I didn’t say that.” Delilah takes another bite of pizza. “In fact, I’d say the opposite. You should bang that boy the first chance you get.” “What?” My shriek is loud enough to echo across the bay. Delilah laughs. “Oh my god, your face right now.” “Dee! This isn’t funny!” “I know, honeybuns. That’s why I say go for it. He’s in town a month, right? So make the most of it.” She grins. “Give it up, get it on, and with any luck, you’ll fuck him right out of your system.” Her words make me flush, not from embarrassment but pure danger. Even a split-second imagining it is too much. The weight of him pressing me into the mattress, the damp swirl of his tongue on my thighs… I shove another spoonful of rocky road in my mouth. I shake my head. “That’s the worst plan I’ve ever heard. You’re like the queen of bad ideas.” “No, listen to me!” Delilah protests. “Right now, you have all these emotions swirling around. Betrayal, and heartache, and all the ‘what ifs’ that have kept you up at night. You’re not thinking clearly. I bet when you look at Finn, you don’t even see the man he is right now. You’re too caught up in the boy he used to be.” I slowly nod. Where is she going with this? “So you need to get all that out of your system,” she insists. “Closure, once and for all.” “And how will I get that by… you know?” “Climbing him like a tree?” Dee grins. “Simple. Most guys are better in fantasy than they ever are when it’s the real thing. Maybe he’ll smell bad, or pound you like a jackhammer, or it’ll all be over in a flash.” She snaps her fingers. “And voila, closure!” I have to give her points for trying, but she doesn’t know Finn. How he could make me moan, reduce me to a breathless, gasping, begging pool of molten desire with just a few dirty words murmured in my ear. And then later, when we were all alone, with nothing between us but a sheen of sweat and the whispered promises that slipped around me like silk… “It won’t work.” I say, miserable. “He was amazing back then, and now… He’ll be even better.” “The boy was scoring perfect tens at eighteen?” Delilah’s eyebrows shoot up. “Damn. Now you have to ride that. If you don’t, I will. Kidding. Kind of.” She shoots me a grin so mischievous I can’t help but relax, laughing. “I know, it’s first world problems. This hot famous guy is determined to seduce me,” I admit, not quite believing it myself. “So what can I do? You see, I’m doomed either way!” “Banged if you do, damned if you don’t,” she agrees. I throw a pillow at her, then catch sight of the clock on the wall. It’s past seven thirty – and I’m wearing laundry-day shorts and a faded old tank. “Whatever I pick, I have to decide in the next ten minutes before he shows up here, and my will-power goes out the window for good.” Delilah stops laughing and looks at me seriously for a moment. She pauses, like she’s deciding what to say. “Spit it out,” I tell her. “I mean it, I want to know what you think.” Dee sighs. “Is he the reason you’ve been hiding away?” she asks. I frown. “I’m not hiding.” “You know what I mean. Hanging back, not getting out there. Being so… careful. I always wondered, but you never seem to want to open up about this stuff, not for real.” I could argue, but there’s no point. She’s right. I swallow, and look away. “Maybe.”

“Then this could be your chance,” she says. “To do something fun for a change, to take a risk. Put the past behind you, and wipe the slate clean. Maybe it’ll be a mistake,” she adds quickly, before I can cut her off. “Maybe it’ll end in tears again, or hurt like hell. But you’re hurting like this, aren’t you? Wondering ‘what if’. You can’t keep letting life pass you by, Eva,” she continues gently. “And if Finn McKay is your way of getting back in the game, so be it. What have you got to lose? That body won’t stay perky forever,” she adds with a wink. “You may as well show it off while you have the chance.” I laugh, and go to clear our junk food remains, but her words linger. What do I have to lose? Delilah doesn’t even know what she’s saying, but how could she? She thinks we’re only talking about a broken heart here, which would be bad enough. She doesn’t know what else I lost after Finn left, and how a part of me is still aching for everything that could have been. But she’s right about everything else. He abroke my heart once, but I don’t have to give it to him again this time. Wipe the slate clean. It’s tempting, I know. Whatever I choose, I’ll still be stuck with this echo of my old pain, and if the last few days have shown me anything it’s that the worst part of all is not knowing why he left. This is my chance to find out why. I check the clock. Seven forty-five. “Damn,” I curse. “Couldn’t we have figured this out an hour ago?” Delilah gasps. “So you’re going to do it? Yay!” she leaps up, clapping her hands together. “OK, you go shower, I’ll pick your outfit.” She shoos me up the stairs. “And don’t forget to shave!” she yells. “And I mean everywhere!” One quick-change, three discarded outfits, and a lightening fast hairstyle later, and I’m just about ready – and so is the flock of butterflies currently fluttering around in my stomach. I’ve changed my mind so many times about what I’m doing that I’ve lost track of any clarity I briefly had. All I know is that I can’t keep trying to avoid Finn. He won’t let me, and I can’t move on in any way without facing this thing between us head on. Right at eight, there’s a knock at the front door. I freeze, lip-gloss halfway to my mouth. “I’ll go,” Delilah grins, and thunders downstairs. “Hello, big shot,” I hear her greet him, opening the door. I swallow back my nerves and quickly finish my makeup. It’s just a simple coat of mascara and some concealer to hide the shadows under my eyes, but I still feel like I’m all dressed up, wearing a pretty blue sundress and my denim jacket. As a rumble of conversation comes from below, I can’t help flashing back to that New Year ’s Eve. How I pulled my clothes on and slipped downstairs with my heart pounding and my skin tingling with anticipation. Everything before then I could pretend was an accident, just a simple twist of fate. That was the first time I made a clear choice. That I wanted this. Wanted him. Now I feel it all over again as I head downstairs. Finn is waiting by the door, and just the sight of him makes my stomach do a slow flip. Damn, he looks good in that pale blue button-down with jeans, so casual and hot. His hair is slicked back and there’s nothing to hide the intensity in his eyes. I feel them on me, drinking me in, and I have to look away and focus on putting one foot in front of the other so I don’t lose my balance and land face-first at his feet. “Hi,” I gulp, reaching the bottom of the stairs. “Hey.” I look up, and get the full force of his sexy smile. All my dreams of self control fly right out the window. He looks too good to be true. “Now you kids behave.” Delilah grins, clearly enjoying her moment as the responsible adult in

this picture. “Stay out late, go crazy, and don’t have her back by midnight.” “Yes, ma’am.” Finn salutes, then holds the door open for me. “Ready?” I inhale in a rush. Nowhere close, but it’s too late to turn back now. My feet are moving like they have a mind of their own, my body revealing what it wants, even as my mind wrestles with the truth. I nod, and step outside. Finn’s car is parked out front, and he opens the door for me. “Thanks,” I almost whisper, sliding inside. It’s a warm night, and the windows are down, but I’m wound too tight to enjoy the scenery as he drives us out of town. “I heard about a new seafood place up the coast.” Finn glances over. “I thought we could try it, if you want.” I nod, fixing my gaze out of the window so I can’t focus on how good he looks beside me in the driver ’s seat, the strong line of his jaw backlit by the dusk light. The miles slip past, until we’re cruising up the coastal road, the ocean waves crashing against the cliffs below. I can’t relax. How did it happen, this distance between us? One moment, I feel like I know him better than anyone in the world, and then, like the tides changing, a ripple of current tugging in the other direction, he’s suddenly a stranger to me again. It’s like there are two versions of the both of us sitting right here in this car: the people we were five years ago, and the Finn and Eva we are now today. Neither of those shadows are willing to dissolve away completely. They’re just lingering out of sight, haunting every new moment or word as ghosts of old love, forever reminding us of everything that came before. Will I ever be able to let go of the past and just exist in the moment? Finn seems like he’s free, moving on without a backward glance, so maybe I’m the only one who feels the shadow of every kiss we shared, every soft, sweet moonlit word echoing through the years, keeping me trapped in this limbo – half a heart in the past, the other half grappling with our uncertain present. Finn’s voice comes through my thoughts. “Are you going to give me the silent treatment all night? Because I hoped we would get a chance to talk.” My head snaps around. “I’m not…” I start to protest, flushing. I try to explain, but my words stick in my throat. “Not.” I struggle again to speak, but it’s like the link between my brain and mouth is broken, and nothing but air comes out. No. My panic rises. Not this time. “I mean… I… I… ” I fight for the words, wanting so desperately to be cool and relaxed, but it only makes it worse. In an instant, I’m six years old again, grasping for sound, unable to get what I’m saying out while everyone laughs and whispers behind my back. Please, I beg the universe. Please don’t do this to me. Shame hits, hard, prickling hot on the surface of my skin. I desperately try to bite back the tears. What must he think of me, stammering away like an idiot in the middle of a simple conversation? “Hey,” With one eye on the road, Finn reaches out and takes my hand. “Eva, what’s wrong?” I know I shouldn’t, but just his touch is a ray of light through the whirl of darkness and confusion. I grip his hand tightly, my anchor to dry land. My speech therapist always said I just need to relax and take a deep breath when this happens, that more stress only made it worse. But relaxing is impossible when he’s so close, when I want so badly to seem like he doesn’t affect me at all. Fuck. Fuck. Finn must see my distress. He pulls over to the side of the road and leaves the engine running. “Eva, look at me.” He squeezes my hand, looking into my eyes. “Eva, it’s okay. Just breathe.” I shake my head. “It’s not… I can’t…” “I know.” He strokes my cheek, so reassuring and calm. “You don’t have to say a word. Remember? You know how to do this. Don’t force it.”

I gulp for air, hating my stupid, broken mouth for not keeping up and making me a freak all over again. “What was that poem you used to tell me?” Finn asks, still waiting patiently. “The one about the trees.” I take a ragged gasp. “Rosetti,” I manage to say. “That’s the one.” Finn smiles at me. “Do you remember it?” I nod, a jerky motion. I press my eyes tightly shut, and in the dark the words are right there, learned by heart. “When I am dead, my dearest, sing no sad songs for me,” I begin, my voice shaking like crazy. Finn squeezes my hand, and I push on. “Plant thou no roses at my head, nor shady cypress tree.” “That’s it,” Finn’s voice comes softly. “I remember it now.” He says the next line with me, our voices together in the silence of the car. “Be the green grass above me, with showers and dewdrops wet…” It was the first thing I learned, that day in middle school, and I clung to it like a safety blanket in the years afterwards to get me through moments like this. And it works. With Finn’s hand holding mine tightly, and his voice steady alongside my own, I finally feel the quicksand ease away. Of course he knows exactly what to do to bring me back. Nobody knows me like him. I breathe again, and slowly, deliberately, I manage to form a single sentence. “I’m okay.” Relief pounds through me, just hearing the words out loud. “I’m okay,” I say again, stronger this time. I feel the tracks slip back in place, so easy I can’t believe they were ever broken. “It’s nothing.” I flush, turning away. “I’m fine now.” Finn doesn’t argue. He pauses a long minute, then nods. “Whatever you want.” He turns back to the wheel, puts the car in drive again, and eases back onto the road without another question. But he doesn’t let go of my hand for the rest of the drive. And me, I can’t bring myself to let go either.



Nine. The restaurant is on a pretty stretch of coastline, set above the cliffs with an amazing view of the ocean. It’s fancy, I realize, the minute a waiter rushes to open the door for us. White linen tablecloths, with heavy silverware on every table beside fresh-cut roses, and chandeliers glittering overhead announce its glamor. This is a far cry from the crab shacks we used to haunt, eating fresh catch from a paper cone with butter dripping down our fingers and napkins stuffed down the neck of our shirts. Now, Finn murmurs his name to the hostess, and we’re whisked across the room to the best table in the house, set in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out across the bay. “I should have dressed up,” I whisper, as I slide into my seat. “What are you talking about?” Finn looks puzzled. “You look beautiful. You always do.” I blush, but it still doesn’t help the nerves in my stomach to be surrounded by polished women in expensive jewelry. The hostess even brings a stool for my purse, and carefully sets the Target bag down on it beside me like it’s made of designer leather. “The maître d will be right over.” She smiles, then discreetly slips away. I unfold the heavy cloth napkin in my lap, and try to think of something to say. Finn catches my eye across the table, and leans in with a wicked smile. “What do you think?” he whispers, nodding his head to the table beside us. “Girlfriend or daughter?” I ease my head around and take a look. A balding man is tearing into a steak while the boredlooking girl at the table scrolls through her phone, ignoring her plate of food. “She has to be his daughter,” I whisper back. “She can’t be a day over eighteen!” “Want to bet?” Finn grins at me. “Ten bucks says you’re wrong.” “Ewww!” I laugh. The man looks over at the noise, and I quickly try to cover it with a fake coughing fit. Finn hands me a glass of water. “You okay there, baby?” he says at normal volume. “Mmmhmm.” I gulp it down, trying to stop my laughter. The couple turns back to their meal, and the guy reaches over and takes the girl’s hand. He says something, and she gives a fake little laugh, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. And then the mouth. ‘Ten bucks’, Finn mouths to me again, and I kick him under the table. Just like that, the tension is broken. We may be miles from where we started, but some things haven’t changed. The thought is comforting, and makes my heart lift. This doesn’t have to be labored or painful. Maybe I can just choose to have fun tonight, and forget that the embarrassing scene in the car ever happened. I open my menu. “Since you’re the big rock star, does this mean we’re getting lobster tonight?” Finn chuckles. “It means we’re getting anything you want.” “Good.” I smile at him. “Lobster it is. And champagne.” “’As you wish.’” He quotes from one of my favorite movies, The Princess Bride, and I laugh. “But I seem to remember you being a lightweight when it comes to your booze.” “Hey!” I protest. “Since when?” “Since you had two beers and passed out in my backseat on the way back from that gig in Wilmington,” Finn teases. “First of all, I didn’t pass out, I fell asleep,” I say, pointing a breadstick at him. “Same difference.” “Uh huh. And second, did you ever think that maybe that was my way of getting you back there, too?” I arch an eyebrow, and Finn slowly whistles. “There I was, thinking you were so sweet and innocent, when all along, you were the one who led

me astray.” “I tried,” I grin. “But let’s face it, you didn’t need much leading.” “No,” he says slowly, a smile spreading across his face and lighting up the entire room. “Not when it came to you.” There’s a pause, electricity ricocheting between us until the waiter arrives to talk us through the specials. I sip my water fast, trying to cool down. Easy girl. His backseat is only a few paces away, and part of me wants to skip this whole meal and drag him back there right now. “Do you know what you want?” I snap my head up. Finn smiles. “Your order,” he explains. “Oh. Right. Yes.” I quickly tell the waiter, and hand my menu back. But food is the last thing on my mind. With the romantic setting and the lights glittering off the ocean, it’s hard not to get swept up and feel like we’re on a real date. It’s been forever since a guy took me out like this. Not the fancy restaurant, but any kind of dinner, just the two of us. “So, Eva Carmichael, back in Oak Harbor.” Finn takes a sip of champagne, his eyes meeting mine over the candlelight. “That’s a story I’d like to hear.” I shrug, careful now. “No story. It turned out the big wide world was a little too big for me. I tried drama school in New York, but it didn’t work out. And then Lottie, with Kit…” I trail off, wondering what he thinks of me. He went out and achieved his dreams, traveled all over the place. I must seem so small-town to him, still walking the same streets I did as a kid. “No plans to get back out there?” he asks, studying me. “You always wanted to try living in different cities. You had that list.” “What list?” I ask, confused. “In the back of your notebook,” Finn reminds me. “Places you wanted to go. Chicago, London, even Italy.” I remember it now, those idle hours in school that I’d pass daydreaming of somewhere more exotic. I sigh. “That was just a game. Things change.” Finn’s smile slips. “So you’re happy here?” “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” I curl my fingers around my glass, feeling oddly defensive. “It’s a great town, and it’s important I’m here for Lottie. It’s been really tough on her,” I add. “She takes it all in stride, never complains – well, almost never. But a toddler isn’t easy.” “I can imagine.” Thankfully, Finn doesn’t press anymore. Our appetizers arrive, and I pick at my crab-cake. “What about you?” I ask. “How did you wind up on the front cover of Rolling Stone magazine? I mean I always knew you had talent, but you never said you had ambitions like that.” “I didn’t have ambition at all,” Finn answers wryly. “I was just focused on getting the hell away from here.” His words cut through me. My heart clenches. “I got that hint,” I reply, my voice cool. He winces. “I didn’t mean—” “No, go on. After you left,” I prompt him again, pushing my old betrayal aside. “What happened next?” He sighs, then leans back in his chair. “I moved around, worked here and there,” he says slowly, and I can tell he’s glossing over something. “Then one night, I picked up my guitar again, and it all came together. After that, I played every chance I got. Until one night in Austin, this guy comes and finds me after the show. Says he’s a manager, that he thinks I’ve got what it takes.” Finn’s expression lifts at the memory. “My buddy, Kyle,” he explains. “He’s a piece of work. Just think of the ultimate

Hollywood hustler, and that’s him, right there. He walked in that dive bar wearing three hundred dollar pants, and shoes so shiny you could see your own reflection. I laughed in his face, thought he was crazy.” “But he wasn’t?” “Oh no, he is.” Finn chuckles. “But he’s my kind of crazy. Doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, or sleep until the deal is signed. Once I decided to give him a shot, it was non-stop. We begged and borrowed studio time, put together a rough demo, then hawked it around to every label in the country. Nobody wanted to give me the time of day.” He shakes his head, a nostalgic smile on his lips. “We would get these notes, like, ‘singer-songwriters aren’t really hot right now, can he get a band, and go more rock?’ Or this one exec, out in LA, he wanted to turn me into a Justin Timberlake guy, you know, with the dance moves and baggy pants.” I laugh, trying to imagine it. “But you can’t dance!” “Don’t I know it.” Finn grins at me. “But that’s the business now. Everyone’s trying to make you into something you’re not. Looking back, maybe it’s a good thing I never wanted it so bad. It stopped me making bad choices. You know, fitting myself into a tiny little box just to get ahead. I drove Kyle crazy,” he adds. “Turning contracts down like that. But if I was going to do it, I had to do it my way. No canned songs or big makeover. Just me and the music, the way it’s supposed to be.” I can see it now in the way he talks: there’s a new ease to him. A confidence, that touch of swagger. Back here in Oak Harbor, Finn was always a renegade, but there was something restless beneath the devil-may-care smile. There was a sharp edge, something straining at the edges to get out. The man sitting so casually across from me tonight is totally comfortable in his own skin. He knows himself, knows he’s been true to who he is. And there’s nothing sexier. I take another gulp of champagne. The bubbles rush to my head, but I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol, or Finn’s blue eyes still watching me, dangerously intense. “Still, I can’t imagine it,” I babble, suddenly feeling off balance. “The fame, the travel. You really made it. One in a million.” “I got lucky.” Finn dismisses my praise. “That’s the other thing about this business, it really is about being in the right place at the right time. Some Hollywood person happened to hear one of my tracks off the demo, and used it in a TV show. Suddenly, everything blew up overnight. We were all over YouTube, had calls coming in from overseas. You can’t plan for that kind of thing,” he adds, with another modest shrug. “You’d go crazy if you did, trying to make lightning strike twice.” Lightning. Was that what the two of us were, I wonder: a bolt from the heavens at the right place, the right time? If he hadn’t been there on the riverbanks that afternoon, if I hadn’t left that New Year ’s party on the dark, icy road? So much about us never made sense; maybe all along it was more accident than destiny. So now I look at him and wonder, would it be so wrong to feel that heat again, to invite the wild jolt to my system, the pure desire I’ve been craving for so long? He was the only one to ever make me feel like this. And if lightning won’t strike twice for me with anyone else, can I really just put the past behind me – or go back, for one last taste? The waiter arrives to clear our plates, and I realize the meal has passed me by. I’ve barely noticed eating a thing. “May I bring you some dessert menus?” he asks. “I think this one would hunt you down if you tried to keep her away from the cake,” Finn jokes lightly, making the waiter smile. “Right away.” He returns with a heavy embossed page, describing half a dozen decadent treats. Finn glances it

over. “How about we get dessert to go?” He catches my eye, and there’s something glittering in those depths that makes my pulse kick. Here, in the confines of the luxurious restaurant, I can play it safe. We have a table between us, and people all around, playing out the polite rules of a date with small talk and light banter. But someplace else? The rules don’t apply. My blood simmers. That reckless instinct flares to life, but still, I fight to keep it down. “I don’t know…” I say vaguely. “There’s someplace I want to show you,” Finn says. His smile is intoxicating, full of wicked promise. “Trust me, just this once.” It isn’t trust that makes me consider it, but something more elemental. A desire that melts around my limbs like honey, making me remember in an instant just how good it used to be. How good it could be, if I let myself take that chance. I nod. Finn quickly calls the waiter back, taking care of the check and collects a couple of pastry boxes filled with dessert. Soon we’re back out in the car, his headlights cutting through the dark. All the while, my heart beats faster and my mind races to justify this reckless change of plans. It’s stupid, crazy putting my heart back on the line when I’ve barely stitched the broken pieces back together. I came here for questions, closure: firm solid facts and reasons why. But logic doesn’t play a part when it comes to pure desire, and right now, all I know is that I’ve spent five years with a restless body and an empty bed, daydreaming about this moment. Finn, and me. A dark night. An empty road, and all the possibilities waiting in the shadows. He was the best I’ve ever had. And it’s wrong, I know, but I want more.



Ten. Finn drives for twenty minutes in an easy silence. He doesn’t speak again, but reaches casually across the gearstick and takes my hand in his. The warmth of his touch radiates, heating my body from the inside out, even when his fingertips start to trace lightly over the curve and crevice of my knuckles. A shiver of sensation, feather-light and all-consuming. I shift in the passenger seat, already feeling a heady rush of anticipation, that lurch of desire unsteady in my belly. Over and over he brushes my palm, until I’m almost melted into the seat, every nerve ending in my body alight for his touch. What do I want from him? The question echoes in my mind as the miles slip past. I know what I should do: have the conversation I’ve been avoiding all this time. About why he left, why he never said goodbye. I should ask him the hard questions that will let me finally move on with my life, untangle old memories and lust so that they don’t overwhelm me every time he walks into the room. It should be simple, and on the surface, it is. How many times have I watched a movie, or read a book, and been screaming at the characters to just get it together and say what’s on their mind? ‘They’re acting like a kid,’ I would think. ‘Real adults just suck it up and face the conflict head-on’. But here I am, all grown up, and I can’t bring myself to ask Finn why. Because it turns out, when the answer matters more to you than anything – when his words have the power to break your heart all over again – it’s easier just to turn away, and bite your tongue, and fall into the dizzy rush of desire rather than take the blade of truth straight to the heart. His hand tightens around mine, and I squeeze it in response. I push the doubts away one final time, too hungry to feel like this. To feel anything at all. Suddenly, Finn yanks the wheel and curses, sending us off the main road and onto a dirt track, pitch-black in the dark. “Sorry,” he says quickly, and I grab the seat to keep from bouncing around on the uneven terrain. “I forgot there’s no markers out here.” He glances over, a reassuring smile cutting bright through the shadows. “Not far now.” I hold on as the track winds deeper into the dark woods. I’ve spent most of my life along this stretch of shoreline, but I couldn’t for the life of me tell you where we are right now. All sense of direction has been sent scattering to the wind, and I only know one compass anymore: where I am in relation to Finn’s body, how far I am from his hands, and mouth, and tongue. Right now, it’s barely inches, but still too far. The track evens out, smoother as the dirt gives way to grass underneath the tires, and eventually Finn slows the Mustang to a stop. He looks around at the pitch-black cliff, and lets out a laugh. “I can’t believe this is still here,” he says. “Untouched. I was half expecting to find condos and some ugly shopping mall. C’mon.” He opens the door and gets out, and I do the same, surprised to find my legs wavering for a moment beneath me. Blood rushes to my head, and I realize just how much that simple caress of his hand has played havoc with my body, winding me tight with a slow-burn desire. He hasn’t even kissed me, and I’m wet for him. Aching. I take a gulp of cool, crisp air. We’re perilously high above the ocean, nothing but dark, rocky cliffs below. Finn’s parked far enough back from the edge that I can almost – almost – relax. He hops up on the hood of the Mustang and stretches his legs out, leaning back against the windshield. “What do you want?” he asks again, opening one of the dessert boxes. “Death by chocolate, or pistachio éclairs?” “Both. Everything,” I answer, relieved for some distraction. I clamber up and take a seat beside

him. He passes me a plastic fork and we dig in, breaking the delicate pastry on the éclair first. The cream is cool on my tongue, and I sigh in pleasure. “Mmmm.” Finn pauses, then picks up a fragment of the treat and lifts it to my lips. My pulse skitters wildly, but I force myself to hold his gaze, parting my lips wider. He slides it into my mouth, and I sigh, sweetness melting over my tongue. “Good?” Finn’s voice is rough. I nod. God, I’m playing with fire here, but damn, it feels too good to stop. The air between us is shimmering with heat and wild lust, and I’m wondering how far this will go, what it’ll take before one of us breaks. Finn opens the other box and breaks off a chunk of the chocolate cake. He feeds it to me slowly, and the bitter, rich flavor hits me in a rush of sugar high. I shudder. Finn’s jaw tightens. Slowly, deliberately, I capture his hand before he can pull away, and lick the frosting from his fingertips. He exhales in a rush. Who am I right now? I feel drunk on power and desire. Up here on the cold steel hood of this car, nothing but the ocean waves crashing to drown out my thundering heart, I feel brave. I feel reckless. I feel invincible. Finn’s eyes are dark in the moonlight, still so controlled. He’s barely touching me. He scoops chocolate frosting from the cake and brings it to my mouth again. This time, I part my lips wider. He eases his thumb into my mouth, and I suck the sweetness from his bare skin, my eyes still locked on his. “God, Eva,” he groans. “You don’t even know…” “Try me,” I whisper, intoxicated by sugar and sex, and just the feel of him. The promise of so much more. Finn pulls back. “Do you know what you do to me?” he demands slowly, searching deep in my eyes. “Every girl, every city, it’s always you. I feel you when I push inside them,” he continues roughly. “It’s your voice I hear when they’re begging for more. I’ve fucked you a hundred times over, in every position, in every goddamn way, and it’s never good enough. Not even close.” My head spins. His dirty words strike at the very heart of me, and in an instant, I’m so turned on I can barely breathe. I shouldn’t want him, not like this, but I can’t hide it. Finn’s lips curl in surprise. “I guess things really do change,” he murmurs, stroking along my cheek. “There I was, remembering my sweet, innocent Eva. But maybe you’re not so sweet anymore.” He has no idea, but I don’t want to break the moment, so I push the past aside. He tangles his fingers in my hair, then tugs me closer, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Is that what you like now, baby?” His voice is rasping, seductive. “You want me to tell you all the filthy, wicked things I’m going to do to you? How I jerk off imagining your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock, taking every last drop and begging me for more.” I shiver against him, my mind flooded with those same images. And God, I want it too. He’s not the only one who came alone, nothing but sweet fantasies to fuel his pleasure. The nights I’ve spent in the darkness of my own restless mind, tasting him, touching him, feeling his body surge and come undone. I pull back far enough to look into those ruinous eyes. I’m too far gone to pretend any longer. There’s nothing but secrets between us now, hot and forbidden. “Every night,” I whisper. “You fuck me every night, and I come, and come, but I never get enough.” Finn’s eyes flash with surprise, and just as I’m feeling the shame of my confession, he shoves me down over the hood of his car, and claims my mouth with a hard, devastating kiss. Yes.

I arch up against his body, already lost to the feel of him, the solid muscle covering every inch of me. His mouth is demanding, fevered and out of control, but I want him just as bad: tasting, licking up into his mouth and devouring him in any way I can. His hands slide over me in a haze of heat and bright, fevered sensation, gripping my waist, squeezing at my ass as he tears his mouth from mine and licks down my neck. I moan out loud, not even caring how the sound echoes on the midnight winds. All that matters is the slow, damp slide of his mouth on my skin, and the deep coil of lust demanding and hot between my thighs. I wriggle against him, trying to kiss him again, but Finn just laughs and grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. He continues his slow, infuriating path along my collarbone, licking and sucking at the tender flesh. Yes. God, there. He strokes softly under the straps of my dress with his free hand, teasing. I make a keening sound, pressing up towards his touch. But Finn doesn’t rush, doesn’t submit for a moment. He just slowly strokes lower, barely skimming his fingertips over my breasts, a whisper of cotton and lace bra protecting me from the true bliss of his touch. “Finn,” I groan, needing him with a fierce desire that is brighter, wilder than anything I could even imagine just a few hours ago. “Shhh,” he whispers, stroking again, infinitesimally stronger. “Shh, baby girl. You’ll get what you need. I promise you that.” I relax with relief, but then Finn pauses, and lifts his head, fixing me with a look that’s so commanding, so fucking in control that I could come right here without another sound. “But first.” He smiles. “First, I’m going to have my fun.” His thumb and forefinger close around my nipple, and he gives a sharp pinch. I gasp in surprise, but it quickly turns to a moan as he yanks my dress lower and covers my breast with his mouth, licking over the taut peak in a glorious wet swoop. I fall back, powerless under the giddy pleasure of his mouth, his tongue, his hands. My Finn. He uncovers me, inch by inch, peeling my dress away and exploring every inch of the bare skin left behind, sucking my nipples into his mouth and stroking a slow burn over the curve of my hip. I stare up, lost in the starlit sky as I feel him claim me, inch by shivering inch. God, it’s even better than I remember, better than it could have been. Those were fumbling hands and illicit, hungry moments, but this is deliberate. Devastating. Each touch designed to push me further to the brink, gasoline on the slow-burn fire, so that by the time he slides down from the hood and stands on solid ground in front of me, I’m spread to him and trembling. The cold air slips over me, but every nerve in my body is already alert and on fire. I lift my head, confused, and find him watching. “Finn?” I breathe, needing his hands on me again. God, anything to keep him touching me. “Just trying to remember this, sweetheart.” His voice is thick, but there’s sadness there too. “I want to remember every last thing.” I catch my breath, the real world rushing back in a heartbeat. He’s leaving again. This will only ever be a memory for the both of us. And then what happens? I want to pull away, to flee with what’s left of my pride and self control, but those are already long gone as Finn leans closer, parting my thighs. He dips to whisper a trail of kisses up the inside of my knee, and reality fades back, way back, obliterated again by the dazzling rush of sensation. His fingers glide smoothly, I feel the soft scratch of his beard, and there, the nudge of his tongue, slick against me. I gasp, rising up to meet him, but Finn places a firm hand on my stomach, trapping me in place.

He licks again, softer, exploring, and every stroke is a seismic shift in the universe, the ground giving way beneath me, pulling me deeper into this bliss. His hands grip harder, fingertips delving to trace the same wicked path as his tongue. Yes. I moan again, and he rewards me with another kiss, this one right where I need him the most. He moves his tongue over me as he slides one finger inside me and then, fuck, another. Plunging, pulsing, a staccato rhythm that sends me wild. I writhe against him, desperate for more, and he answers with a fevered pace, perfectly in tune to the havoc he’s wreaking with his wicked, dangerous mouth. Faster. Deeper. More. It’s enough to make me call his name out loud, hold on as tight as I can and never let go. But even through the dizzy madness, I know the truth, deep down. I can’t fall, not again. Not this time. The words are a mantra. I cling to them as he takes me over. The heat surges, my body rises, crests, and breaks under his tongue, pleasure pulsing like a supernova to blot the stars from that midnight sky. I let go, give myself over to the rush, but I cling to that thread of steel. I can give him my body, but not my heart this time. When I surface, I’m almost surprised to find the ground the right way up, and the waves still rolling against the shore below. I lift my head, dazed. Finn smiles down at me. “You doing okay there?” “Uh huh,” I murmur, stretching experimentally. I have a kink in my neck from the hard steel, but my blood is singing, wild with release. “I think so.” “Good.” He takes my hand like a gentleman, and helps me down from the hood of the car, tugging my panties straight and smoothing down my dress. “It’s late,” he says, brushing my hair from my forehead. “We should get you home.” Oh. Home is still the last thing on my mind, but I know he’s right. Every minute with him sends me careening closer to the edge of something I can’t take back. Tonight he had me spread on the hood of his car in what felt like five minutes flat. Who knows what I would do given half a chance – a backseat, a blanket, or, God forbid, a bed? I flush, and practically dive back into the car. Finn joins me, and soon, we’re pulling up outside my place. He walks me to the front door, and drops a kiss on my forehead, casual as can be. “I had fun tonight,” he says, like we went to a movie and split a milkshake. I nod, feeling too self-conscious to even look at him. “Sure,” I tell him, hurried and fumbling with my keys. “Good night!” I bolt inside and slam the door behind me, then pause and listen to his footsteps retreat. The engine starts, his headlights melt away into the dark again. I slowly slide to the floor. I can’t believe what just happened. All my vows and determination, all my promises to move on and leave the past behind. One look, one touch from him, and that sense was gone for good. “You fuck me every night, and I come, and come, but I never get enough.” Oh my god. I can’t believe I said that! And worse still, meant every word! I shiver, feeling the imprint of his fingertips still branded on my skin. I see him. That passionate frenzy in his gaze, the look of slow domination as he unraveled me, piece by glorious piece. I want him, right here. I want to explore that strong body with the same relentless worship he showed me tonight. A knock on the door breaks through my fantasy.

“Eva?” Oh God. It’s Finn. His voice is low – and seductive. I’m frozen in place, on the floor just by the door. He taps again softly. He wants to come in. My heart beats faster. Fuck, wasn’t this just what I was picturing? I slowly get to my feet, and reach for the door handle, but something makes me freeze up inside. I can’t. I mustn’t. With super-human control, I yank my hand back, turn, and race up the stairs. I dive into bed fullyclothed and hide under the covers like a kid again. Except this time, the desire running through me is anything but innocent. I’m hiding from the force of my passion, and all the dirty, dirty things Finn could do to me. Scratch that. Would do. After a moment, I hear his car engine start, and see the headlights snake away into the dark. I try to ignore my disappointment. I did the right thing. But damn, I want him bad.



Eleven. When the man who broke your heart makes you come so hard you see God on the hood of his vintage Mustang, there’s only one thing to do. Avoid him like the plague. I manage to stay away from Finn for the next few days, practically moving in with Lottie to avoid being all alone in that big, empty house just waiting for the doorbell to ring and for Finn to stroll inside. And push me up against the wall… Carry me upstairs… Take me to bed. I focus on work and the shelter instead, filling every minute of my day with tasks and boring chores and doing my best to put him out of my mind. To his credit, Finn gives me my space. After a couple of calls I leave unreturned he doesn’t push it, but that’s almost worse. I know him, and I know he doesn’t give up so easily. If he’s staying away, it’s because he’s got a different plan in mind. Or maybe he’s finally seen the light, and realizes that this is only going to end in heartache again, that for all the pleasure we could feel right now, it’s not worth the future pain. Either way, the week drags on with infinite slowness, my mind waging a bitter war. Every moment I spend away could be one I spend kissing him. Or more. Even Delilah has enough of my obsessive activity. “That’s it!” she declares, when she comes back to work after a viewing appointment to find me reorganizing the filing system. Stacks of paper litter the floor, and I’ve got my new label-maker out, marking everything down to ‘Papers, old, miscellaneous’. “You need to quit this, and get laid.” “Dee!” I exclaim, glad that our boss is out for the afternoon and not around to hear. “I’m saying this because I love you.” Delilah adds, walking over. She tries to take the label maker from my hand. I hold on tight. “Eva,” she warns me, wrestling it away from me. “This isn’t healthy. Come on, stop this madness before you do yourself a real injury.” “I’m fine!” I let go suddenly, and the label maker flies across the room, knocking a framed photo off the ledge. “Sure, this is what fine looks like.” Delilah snorts. “Look, I’ve got a gift-card to Babeland I was saving, but clearly you need it more than me. If you refuse to go for the real deal, let’s get you some toys before you explode.” I give her a look. “That won’t help. Trust me, I’ve tried.” I add meaningfully. She laughs. “Poor baby, all wound up and no place to go.” “I do have somewhere to go. That’s the problem.” I set about cleaning up the broken glass picture frame. “I know exactly what’s waiting for me on the other side of town, with his sexy eyes and manly beard, and all those lean muscles…” I feel a spritz of cold water and yelp. Delilah has the plant sprayer, and an evil grin on her face. “You need a cold shower,” she points out, laughing. I can’t help but giggle too. “I need the whole damn ice bucket challenge!” I put the glass in the trash, then wander back over to her desk. Delilah’s browsing listings and slurping a Diet Coke. I linger, drumming my fingertips. “You understand why I’m doing this, right?” I ask. Delilah rolls her eyes affectionately. “Sure I do. You’re turning down the hottest guy in the country because you’re scared of getting hurt.” I feel defensive. “You make it sound like it’s no big deal, getting your heart broken like that.” Delilah gives a wry smile. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never loved anyone enough to get hurt when it’s over. Usually my relationships end when I sneak out the next day.”

“That’s not true!” I protest. “Sure it is.” Dee doesn’t seem concerned. “And maybe that’s a good thing. If you’re anything to go by, then epic, crazy love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I mean, no offense, but you loved this guy five years ago, and it’s pretty much kept you from having a real relationship ever since.” Her words feel like a sharp slap. Delilah looks up and sees my face. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” “No, it’s fine.” I shake my head. “Eva—” “Really! I get it. I’ll stop organizing, I promise.” I shove the papers to the side and grab my purse. “Okay if I take off early? I want to stop by Lottie’s with some stuff for the party.” Delilah’s eyes widen. “The party. Right.” I pause. “You do have everything ready for tonight, don’t you?” “Sure!” she exclaims. “Everything’s set.” “Uh huh.” I don’t press, I’m just glad the subject’s moved away from me and my screwed up heart. “See you later,” I tell her, and head out. I stop by the store on the way over and pick up some fresh tulips for Lottie, her favorite. It’s not her birthday until tomorrow, but I know this one is important to her. With mom and dad out of town, I want to make it special. I buy an armful, and fumble my way up the front path, my view completely blocked. “Hello?” I call, finding the front door is open. “Lottie?” “In here!” I navigate my way past the stroller and through to the kitchen, peering over the tulips. “How’s the soon-to-be birthday girl?” “Flowers? You shouldn’t have.” It’s not Lottie’s voice, but a very familiar male tone. I lower the tulips, resignation crashing over me as I take in the tanned face and long, tousled hair. “Finn.” “The one and only.” He’s sitting up on a stool at the kitchen counter with a beer in his hand. Finn arches an eyebrow. “How was your day, sweetheart?” I try not to flush at the memory of the last time I saw him, and where that mouth has been. I don’t trust my voice not to fail me now, so I bustle past to run cold water and put the flowers in the sink. Lottie comes back into the kitchen, holding Kit. “Look who I ran into!” she says brightly. “I was trying to wrestle the stroller and five million grocery bags when this guy came to my rescue. He’s a regular white knight.” “I do my best,” Finn grins at me, infuriating, and I have to look away. Does he realize what he’s doing to me? Just being in the same room as him has set my pulse racing and my body temperature spiking way up. I ignore him as best I can, arranging the flowers in a couple of plain glass vases and setting them on the countertop. Finn doesn’t seem concerned; he just sits there, casually drinking his beer. Lottie looks back and forth between us. “Am I missing something?” “No,” I answer quickly. Finn smiles. “We’re good.” “OK.” Lottie narrows her eyes, but luckily Kit starts wriggling and clutching at her chest. She shakes her head, smiling. “This guy needs another feed. He can’t get enough boob.” “And that’s my cue to go.” Finn laughs. He gets to his feet, and leans to kiss her on the cheek. “Bye, kiddo.” “Thanks again.” Lottie smiles up at him, grateful. “For everything.” “Any time.” Finn gives me a smirk from across the room. “See you tonight.”

“Tonight?” I echo, as he walks out. “Huh?” Lottie is already unbuttoning her shirt. “Oh, yeah, he offered to host the party at his place. Isn’t that great?” “But what about Delilah?” Lottie sighs. “Let’s just say Dee is big on ideas, and short on planning. I think she forgot,” she confides. “You know she’s been busy closing that big deal, the new condo complex. So when Finn offered to arrange everything, it turned out perfectly, don’t you think? He’s got that big old house, just crying out for a party.” “Sure,” I echo faintly, just picturing it. A dark night, the romantic mansion, and the two of us, able to slip away from the crowd. “Perfect.” I tell Lottie I’ll meet her at the party, and stop by the animal shelter on my way home. To tell the truth, I’m just trying to delay the inevitable, me and Finn in the same room, but I’m always glad to be here. The puppies are looking to play, so I get some treats from the store room and try to teach them some basic obedience commands on the porch steps, rewarding their clumsy ‘sit’ and ‘stay’s with hugs and kibble. “You’re spoiling them,” Edith warns when she finds me buried in a puppy pile. “But they’re just babies!” One of them, the runt of the litter, pokes his head up under my sweater, making me giggle from the tickling. “They’re learning, too. Watch.” I point to a spot on the floor. “Sit,” I order them sternly. “Come on, sit.” One puppy rolls with his paws in the air. Another chases his tail around, and my guy, already nuzzling at my stomach, just wags his tail. I laugh. “OK, they were learning.” Edith sits in the porch chair and idly rocks. “Chester ’s doing better,” she says. “That’s great.” “Your vet knows his stuff, I’ll give him that.” “He’s not my vet,” I correct her, blushing. Then I pause. “Wait, is he back in town?” “Came by yesterday.” Edith looks amused. “Had all kinds of questions for me, too, mainly about you.” Now I really feel bad. I’ve barely given Sawyer a second thought; Finn’s been the only one on my mind. “I should give him a call,” I say, guilty, thinking just how awkward that conversation is going to be. ‘Sorry, we can only be friends, because I’m too busy trying to resist my dangerously sexy ex.’ Yup, that’s a great way to get to know someone. “That’s right, you’ve been busy. I thought I saw that Finn McKay back in town.” Edith’s eyes are sharp. She doesn’t miss a thing. “He’s… around,” I say vaguely. “Mmmmhmmm.” I flush. Edith was here the first time around, when we were only just teenagers. She walked in on Finn and me once, necking in the corner of the shed, but never said a word – not then, or months later, when she found me crying over newborn puppies and old dogs alike, pretending it was just allergies that had me weeping round the clock. Now she assesses me with that sharp stare. “Is he back for good, or just passing through?” “I don’t know.” I try to sound casual. “Passing through, I think.” Edith makes a noise. “He’s got some nerve, after all this time.” Even though I’ve thought the very same thing, I find myself feeling oddly defensive. “He’s really made something of himself. Besides, you know what it was like for him. He didn’t have a reason to stay.”

“I can think of one.” She’s right, but Finn already made that choice, and it turns out I wasn’t reason enough. So why would he stick around this time, when he has a brilliant, successful life waiting for him? What is he doing here at all? I turn to the puppies for consolation. After a moment, I realize that Edith isn’t talking. Usually, she’s got a million stories to tell, everything from a friend she ran into in town, or some documentary she saw on TV the other night. But today, she’s just rocking in silence, looking distracted as she gazes out over the property. “Is everything okay?” I ask, not wanting to intrude. Edith sighs. “Just the usual, that’s all. A place like this, it doesn’t run itself. And these days, I’m not getting any younger…” She trails off, but I’m worried now. I put the puppies aside and go join her, perching on the swing. “I can work more hours, if you need,” I offer. “Stop by early mornings to help with the feed, maybe.” She shakes her head. “Oh no, that’s not necessary. The thing is.” She pauses. “Well, you know I don’t own this land?” I nod, but I’ve never thought about it. “It belonged to an old business acquaintance of mine,” she continues. “Back when I wore a pants suit and worked in a law firm, would you believe.” “I still can’t picture it,” I smile. For all her tales of climbing the corporate ladder, forty years ago, I can’t imagine Edith out of her muddy boots and trailing scarves. “I was quite the trial lawyer,” she says, with a glimmer of steel in her expression. “They called me a barracuda. Meant it as an insult, I guess, but that didn’t make a difference when the verdict came in.” She smiles, remembering old victories, then shakes her head. “The land. Anyway, when he heard what I was doing out here, he offered to rent it to me cheap, for the animals. Well, he passed on a while back, and now his children have got it in their heads that this place might be worth something after all.” “Here?” My disbelief is clear. Edith laughs. “No,” I say quickly, “I just mean… It’s great for the shelter, but it’s so far out.” I look around. The buildings themselves are old and run down, functional, but nothing pretty. There’s a main ranch house that Edith lives in, with sheds and outbuildings sprawling to the fenced-in paddock, and fields beyond. “It’s the land value,” Edith says, sounding resigned. “They say they’ve talked to some developers, and it’s worth more than they thought now.” “But they can’t do that.” “They can do anything they want,” Edith shrugs. “They want to raise our rents, at the very least, and keep us month-to-month in case they decide to sell.” “What’ll happen to the dogs?” I ask, feeling stricken. “They love it here, and we wouldn’t be able to find homes for them, not on that kind of notice.” “We don’t need to think about that just yet.” Edith pats my hand. “They’re still talking to lawyers and the realtor. I expect it’ll take a little while to iron everything out.” But still, I think of the puppies, and Chester, and all the two dozen other animals we have scampering around at any one time. Sure, we try to adopt as many out as possible, but there are always more animals in need of a safe, warm place to stay. As soon as one batch of cute puppies is sent off to a loving home, there’s another litter abandoned: dangerously underweight, or injured, and needing our care and feeding. And then there are the older dogs, the ones nobody would take in. They spend their days lazing on the porch, or ambling around the fields. Without this place, they’d have nowhere to go, nobody to love them, or to make sure they’re still healthy and have something to eat.

My heart clenches just thinking about it, and Edith must see my distress because she tuts. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” She pats me again. “It’ll work itself out. It always does.” “Is there anything I can do?” I ask, still anxious. “You just focus on your own affairs,” Edith says firmly. “Speaking of which, don’t you have a party to get to?” I sigh. Partying is the last thing on my mind right now, but I know Lottie will be excited. I get up from the swing. “You will tell me, won’t you?” I check. “If things get bad with the bills, or if there’s some way I can help?” “Of course.” Edith smiles. “You’re a good girl, you know. Better than he ever deserved.” I don’t need to ask who she means. “Now, you go get ready,” she insists. “And see if anyone feels like taking a couple of these puppies off our hands!”



Twelve. For Lottie’s sake, I dress up tonight – at least that’s what I tell myself as I drive over to Finn’s house. I can hear the party from the bottom of the driveway. Cars are parked haphazardly all the way up, with loud music playing and the sound of conversation drifting on the breeze. It’s a warm night, and the scent of rhododendrons is thick in the air. Lanterns are strung all the way down to the far dock. I get out and smooth my skirt down, nervous. If I could have shown up in overalls, it would have been safer. Instead, I’m wearing a fluttery skirt with a silky tank. Perfectly demure by any standards, but all I can think about is how easy it would be to lift the hem higher, or slip the spaghetti straps down over my shoulders… No. Bad Eva. Think sober, unsexy thoughts. I head up the front steps. It looks like every door and window in the old house is flung open, spilling bright lights and laughter out into the dusk light. Inside, the place is packed, with dozens of faces I recognize, and plenty I don’t. “Isn’t this great?” Lottie grabs me from behind as I make my way deeper inside. “I don’t know how he pulled it off, but everyone’s here!” “Happy early birthday,” I laugh, hugging her. “Did Kit get settled with the babysitter?” “Yup.” She beams, grabbing a bottle from the table. “And she’s promised to text hourly updates. So as far as I’m concerned, I’m young, free, and single tonight.” “Atta girl!” Delilah joins us, slapping her on the ass. “I’ll drink to that.” She grabs us some glasses, and Lottie pours. “Champagne?” She notes the bottle and whistles. “He bought, like, a whole case,” Lottie says, eyes wide. “And there’s catering, too, all kinds of food and desserts. I feel kind of bad. I didn’t expect anything like this.” “He can afford it,” Delilah says blithely, toasting us. “And if he wants to try and buy your affections, let him.” “My what?” Lottie frowns. “To get on your good side,” Delilah explains. “Because of Eva.” “Leave me out of this,” I say quickly, gulping my drink. “But wait.” Lottie grabs my arm. “What does she mean-?” “Oh look!” I interrupt, spotting someone across the room. “Isn’t that the cute guy who talked to you in the park? You should go say hello.” Lottie’s head snaps around. “Sam!” She brightens, then heads across to talk to him. “Quick save,” Delilah smirks. “Don’t you start.” I give her a look. “My lips, sealed.” Dee mimes locking them shut. “I’m just glad you finally wore a ‘fuck me’ outfit.” “What?” My voice rises an octave. She laughs. “The heart wants what the heart wants. Good luck!” Delilah saunters away, leaving me in a new panic. It’s not my heart that’s the problem, it’s my body that’s betraying me. Every time I see someone out of the corner of my eye I turn, hoping that they’re Finn. Where is he? I decide to try and settle my stomach, and head on through to the buffet tables set up in the dining room. Lottie was right, Finn spared no expense for this. There’s BBQ and sliders, but also sushi, and intricate little hors d’oeuvres, enough to feed a small army. I fill a plate, then slip out to one of the side porches to sit in the dark and watch the last of the pale light while the party whirls on inside. I sit back in the old swing, curling my feet underneath me. Lottie getting another year older,

Delilah barreling on with her plan to take over the real estate world, it all makes me think about my own life, and how it’s barely moving at all. My job is fine, and pays the bills, and I love the work I do at the shelter, but I can’t deny the restless urge I get, clicking through Pinterest and websites late at night, looking at the million other possibilities waiting out there in the world for me. I’ve come close to leaving a hundred times. After things got back to normal, and I felt like I was on solid ground after all the chaos of New York, I even looked up which colleges had good theatre programs nearby. I must have downloaded a dozen applications, even started filling a few out, but every time I really thought about packing my bags up and heading out again on my own, something inside me froze up. I made such a mess of things last time around, part of me is scared it’ll happen again. That I’ll make one wrong decision and send my life hurtling off track again, but this time in ways that can’t be fixed so easily. Here in Oak Harbor, at least I know I’m doing the right thing. Sure, it’s a simple, quiet life, but I don’t wake up in the morning feeling like I have a knife in my heart and a stranger in my bed. “Should have guessed I’d find you here.” The door opens, and Finn steps outside. “Rule number one: look for Eva in the darkest, quietest corner of any party.” He looks around. “This place is a madhouse already. How did you even find a place alone?” “It’s a super power, I guess,” I reply lightly, but my heart stutters at the sight of him in a simple white tee shirt and threadbare jeans, good enough to eat. “I guess we should be glad you didn’t bring a book,” Finn grins. “Then you wouldn’t notice a single thing.” “I’m not that bad!” I protest. He laughs. “Kidding. To tell the truth, I always envied your focus.” He takes a seat beside me on the swing and pushes off, rocking us back and forth. “Maybe I would have done better in school without all those distractions.” “You mean girls.” “Touché.” Finn smiles. “Lottie seems to be having a good time. I just saw her recruiting some guys to set up a karaoke machine.” “Stop her, for all our sakes,” I laugh. “I mean, I love my sister, but the girl cannot carry a tune.” I pause, glancing over. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “For the party. You really didn’t have to go all out like this.” “It’s nothing.” Finn waves away my praise. “She deserves it. She’s a good kid.” “Not such a kid anymore,” I remark, feeling wistful. “I think she’s more grown up than me, sometimes. I just wish.” I stop. Finn looks over, waiting. “Just, that she’d had a chance to do something different. We all love Kit, but she used to have all these dreams, about traveling the world, or moving to LA to work in fashion. She was going to have all kinds of big adventures.” “You mean like you were planning?” Finn takes a sip of his beer. “How did that work out for you?” His voice is even, but still, I tense. “That’s different.” “Is it?” He watches me, steady. “The girl I knew was ready to take a risk, just leap into the unknown.” I fight back emotion. “Maybe you didn’t know me so well.” “Come on.” Finn looks at me, that deep stare I couldn’t hide from if I tried. Right away I feel on trial, exposed for him to judge. “You were going to conquer the world, Eva. What happened to you?” I swallow hard. “I hit the ground,” I tell him, and get up. “Eva—” “No, don’t. I get it,” I say bitterly. “You remember someone different. Someone fun, and wild, and ready to take on the world. Well, I tried, but sometimes the world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

I turn for the door, but it flies open. “Time for cake!” Delilah cries, grabbing my hand. “Come on, I bet Lottie she couldn’t blow out all twenty in one go. If she forfeits, someone’s going skinnydipping!” Grateful, I let Dee pull me back inside, the party enveloping me in bright noise again. But still, I can’t shake the memory of Finn just now, and that sad disappointment in his eyes. He has no right to be disappointed, none at all. If I failed to live up to all his expectations, he should share the blame, too. It’s easy to be young and reckless when you’ve never tasted loss before. I bite back my sadness, and force on a big smile. “Look at that cake!” I cry, joining Lottie and the crowd in the main room, clustered around the biggest three-tier chocolate cake I’ve ever seen. “Where did you even get something like that?” “Finn had it made special order in the city.” Lottie beams. “We’re going to be eating leftovers for a week.” “I love it when you talk dirty,” Dee laughs, arm around her on the other side. She holds up her phone to take a pic. “Now everyone smile and say, ‘frosting!” The crowd cheers and applauds as Lottie blows out the candles – every last one. “Lucky escape,” Delilah laughs. Lottie grins, her eyes going to that Sam guy. “I don’t know, I might try the creek out – after another few drinks.” I remember her birthday last year, how tired and stressed she was. Kit wasn’t feeding properly, and we barely had time for some takeout and five minutes of a DVD before he bawled his eyes out, demanding her harried attention again. I feel a wave of pride at how far she’s come. For all my anxiety about Finn, I’m glad she’s getting the night of fun and sparkle she deserves. Lottie cuts into the cake, and everyone breaks out in a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’. She laughs, and takes a bow, but when the final chords die away, she hones in on Finn. “Will you play something?” she begs. “Pretty please?” He looks bashful. “C’mon,” Delilah joins the cause. “Just one song. You’re the big superstar, after all. And it is her birthday.” “Guys,” I murmur, uncomfortable. “He’s done enough already.” “It’s fine.” Finn smiles at me. “Hold on.” He leaves the room, and comes back a moment later with his guitar slung around his neck. He strums a couple of chords, and the room quiets. All eyes are on him. “Any requests?” Lottie claps her hands together in glee. “Seriously? Oh my God. Dee,” she hisses. “You better be filming this!” “Got it!” Delilah holds up her phone. “Can you play ‘Sometimes’?” Lottie asks. “It’s my favorite.” “For the birthday girl, anything.” I watch as Finn strums the guitar, adjusting the fret, like he’s pulling on an old jacket that fits just right. Then he starts to play, a familiar melody I recognize as his first big hit. It’s sweet and slow, a melancholy song, and the notes slip through the crowded room, changing the mood in an instant. I feel an ache. He looks so at ease, even the center of attention like this, holding that guitar like its an extension of his body, a spare limb he knows by heart. He found the thing he loves most in the world, and he made a life of it. He made it count. Finn opens his mouth, and that whiskey sweet voice begins to sing, deep and rich. I feel it melt all the way down my spine. “Sometimes when the night is over, and I’m back in someone else’s bed. I think of you, and that pale sweet reflection, and I’m here wishing I was with you instead.” He looks up, and his eyes catch mine across the room. I freeze, my heart suddenly in my throat as

he sings – to me. The crowd melts away, and for a moment, it’s just the two of us, the words strung between us like a message. Or an apology? My pulse thunders in my ears, but I can’t look away. I never let myself believe any of his songs were about me. I couldn’t drive myself crazy looking for clues in his lyrics like that for long, but now, here, the emotion and regret of the song hit me like a bullet. Was he really singing about me all this time? Finn’s eyes are on me still, but I can’t read the expression in their ocean-blue depths. He’s a showman, I remind myself. He’s used to playing for a crowd, giving them what they want from a performance, making every woman in the room feel like he’s singing just for them. So why does it feel like he really means it, this time? “And I’m here wishing I was with you instead.” The final line echoes softly, and the music drifts away. Finn gives me a smile, not the flashy, crowd-pleasure grin, but something quieter. Just for me. My emotions storm in my chest, and suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. I turn and slip through the crowd, leaving them clustered around him and cheering for more. “Encore!” they cry, and Finn strikes up another song, this one fast, upbeat. I hurry away, heading blindly through the house until I find a quiet corner in the kitchen to hide. A couple of caterers give me a curious look, but nobody bothers me as I pull a cold bottle of water from a cooler and drink, trying to cool down. Finn’s made it clear he wants me, my body, that inferno between us; everything he used to command with just a look, a lightning touch. But is that enough for me? Every time I’m near him, I feel swept up in this hurricane of desire. It feels inevitable, unstoppable, but I know that’s just a lie I’ve been telling to myself. If I was really determined, I could still call this whole thing off, stay away from him for real this time. Shut myself away, and avoid the heartache I can see hurtling towards me, full-speed ahead. Except… I pause, an ugly realization rearing from the back of my mind. Staying away from trouble makes sense, but I’ve been doing that for years, and it hasn’t changed a damn thing. I’ve tried denying it, but my friends are right: I’ve been holding on to Finn and all his heartache since the day he left. I’ve told myself I’ve moved on, but the memory of that pain has haunted me. I’ve been afraid to put my heart on the line again and risk that same devastation in the end. Sure, I’ve gone through the motions of blind dates and fix-ups, but it never lasts for long. But Finn? He makes me feel everything, so much that it scares me. The desire for him, my naked need; I’ve never felt so out-of-control as when I’m with him, like my chest is cracked wide open and my heart is beating, open and raw, offered up for him to do as he wants with it. I’m on the edge of the cliff, and just slightest sign from him -- the smallest hint at all -- and I would give it all to him. Hand him my heart, and soul, and relinquish myself to the fall. This fire racing through my bloodstream both terrifies and intoxicates me too. It could leave us both in ashes, burn my whole world to the ground again. But wouldn’t it be a beautiful blaze? I hear another round of applause echo, so I pull myself back together and walk slowly back towards the party. As I’m heading down the hallway, the front door opens, and Sawyer steps inside. I do a double take. He looks different out of his work jeans and sweater. He’s wearing a smart buttondown, looking cleanly-shaven and classically handsome. “Eva.” He greets me with a smile. “How are you? I was hoping I’d see you here.” “Umm, hi.” I blink, thrown. “You’re back!”

“I know, it feels like I was gone for weeks,” Sawyer agrees. “But you know how us veterinarians like to party.” “Wild nights with all your research papers?” I joke. Sawyer laughs. “Something like that. Anyway, how about you? How have you been?” He moves just a bit closer, leaning against the wall. “Good, busy,” I say vaguely. “Lots of work at the shelter?” “Right.” And diving headlong into emotional confusion over my ex, I silently add. “That Edith’s a character, huh?” Sawyer continues, smiling affectionately at the thought. “I stopped by yesterday, and she gave me the third degree, quizzing me all about my intentions towards you.” I groan, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, she likes to play matchmaker.” “That’s okay.” Sawyer grins. “They’re only a little dishonorable, I promise.” He winks, and my heart plummets. Any other month, and I would be on cloud nine right now. A hot, single animal lover who wants to flirt with me? I should be melting. But with Finn in the next room – scruffy, dangerous, intoxicating Finn – I’m afraid to admit it, but no other man stands a chance. “Listen,” I start, awkward. “There’s something you should know—” I’m about to tell him that I’m too tied up in ancient history to think about dating him right now, when the cause of all my confusion emerges from the living room. Finn stops, taking us in. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” he says, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “Finn McKay.” “Sawyer Green.” Sawyer shakes his hand, good natured. “Great to meet you. Are you a friend of Eva’s?” he asks. “An old friend,” Finn says, giving me a look. “Sawyer ’s the new vet in town,” I speak up. “He’s been helping out at the rescue.” “That’s great.” Finn’s voice is friendly, but there’s a weird vibe here all the same. Sawyer and he are assessing each other, casual on the surface, but I can tell something’s going on underneath. “Eva’s been volunteering there for years.” “She said so,” Sawyer replies pleasantly. “She has a real gift with the animals. They all love her.” “Everyone does.” There’s a pause. I look back and forth between them. “You want to get a drink?” I ask Sawyer. “There’s a full bar, right through here.” “Sounds good.” He smiles at me. “Good meeting you, Finn.” “You too.” Finn nods. “Let me know if you need anything.” I guide Sawyer through to the party and get him set up with a beer, my mind racing how I’m going to explain this one. But he beats me to it. “I’m guessing he’s who you wanted to talk to me about,” he says casually, and I nearly splutter on my drink. “How did you know?” Sawyer chuckles. “I’m not blind. Old boyfriend?” I nod, feeling bad. “He just came back to town,” I try to explain. “And I wasn’t going to get involved, but—” “Hey, it’s okay. I understand.” Sawyer gives me a rueful look. “Bad timing, the story of my life.” “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling a twist of regret. “If I’d met you any other time—” “I get it,” Sawyer cuts me off, smiling. “We’re good. But I still want to get that drink sometime. You can give me the inside scoop on this town. Friends?” he asks. I nod, relieved. “Friends.” Sawyer looks over my shoulder, and smiles. “If it makes you feel any better, your guy looks as if

he’s about to challenge me to a duel.” I turn. Finn is watching us, looking tense. Sawyer leans in a little closer, and murmurs in my ear. “A little jealousy can be good for a guy.” “I’m not trying—” “I know,” Sawyer reassures me. “But I’m happy to help.” He places a hand on my arm, still leaning in close. “I give him ten seconds…” But it barely takes five before Finn cuts through the crowd and joins us again. “Finding everything okay?” he asks, a new note of steel in his voice. “Sure. Eva’s being real helpful,” Sawyer drawls. He squeezes my shoulder. Finn’s jaw clenches. “Is that so?” “I’m lucky I met her,” Sawyer continues. “She’s really one of a kind.” I flush, caught in Finn’s possessive stare, but I can’t help feeling a satisfied thrill. I hate playing games, but after acting so relaxed around me, he’s finally looking like he gives a damn. “What about you, Eva?” Finn asks. “Are you having fun?” His voice is dangerously silky. I smile. “Yes, I am. Thanks again for hosting,” I add sweetly. “I’ve been wanting to introduce Sawyer, and this is the perfect chance for him to meet everyone. He can’t wait to settle in, since he’s going to be sticking around.” “You’re just passing through, right?” Sawyer asks him. Finn scowls. “I haven’t decided yet.” “He’s just here for the month,” I tell Sawyer. “Then he’s back on the road again, back to his real life.” “I never saw the appeal of big city life,” Sawyer muses. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got everything you need right here.” He holds my gaze, flirty, and I can almost feel Finn seething beside me. “Eva?” Finn’s voice comes. “Can I talk to you a minute?” “I’m kind of busy right now,” I tell him, not looking around. “Eva. Now.” Finn takes my arm, and before I can protest he steers me through the crowd. “Hey!” I try to stop him. “I was in the middle of something.” “Clearly.” Finn doesn’t let go. He guides me down the hallway, looking around for something. “Finn, let me go!” I demand. “What are you doing?” “What I’ve been wanting to do ever since you walked in the damn house.” Finn yanks open a door and pushes me through it – right into a dark coat closet. “Finn!” I protest again, turning, but my words are swallowed by his kiss. Hot, hard, possessive. His mouth crashes down on mine, pushing me back until I’m up against the wall and there’s no escape from his passion, even if I tried. Clinging to my last thread of sense, I wrench away. “Finn—” He kisses me again, sliding both hands around my waist, his body hard against mine. I know this is crazy, but my resolve wavers. This is sexy as hell, here in the dark with the party just a few paces away. I push him weakly. “We can’t,” I gasp. “We need to talk.” “So talk.” Finn dips his head and kisses my neck. “I’ll just be busy, right here.” He bites down softly on my shoulder. My head spins. Focus, Eva. Adult conversation. Finn’s hands slide under my camisole, and God, his touch is fire, igniting me all over again. Desire curls through me, and it’s impossible to ignore. He’s here, so close. All mine. Talk later. Kiss now.

I give up and pull him down, greedy, loving the feel of his body, every last inch. Here in this dark cocoon, I can forget everything, everything except the wild touch of his hands, and the ache he brings, like my body is calling out for the one thing it needs more than anything in the world. Him. I kiss him back, sinking into the wildfire heat, and the tantalizing slide of his tongue deep in my mouth. I moan against him, and his body tenses in answer. He pulls back. “Tell me you haven’t done this with him,” Finn demands, his voice hoarse with lust. He slides his hand possessively over the curve of my breast, making me shudder. “Tell me he hasn’t felt you like this, or seen the way you look when you’re coming undone.” I shake my head. “We never,” I manage. “We didn’t even go on a real date.” “Good.” Finn scowls. “Because I was just about ready to knock him out for laying a hand on you back there.” His fierce possession makes my pulse kick, but I feel a spark of anger, too. “You don’t get a say in who touches me,” I remind him crossly. “You don’t own me.” “Don’t I?” Finn yanks me closer, sliding one hand between my legs. His touch finds me, through silk and lace, and presses softly. I gasp at the rush of pleasure, and Finn gives me a victorious smile. “Tell me that again when you’re begging me to let you come.” Damn. I’m torn between begging him right now, and showing him I’m not so easily controlled. I hate how easily my body responds to his dirty mouth and tempting hands. But I love it, too. Nobody ever made me feel this way. Finn strokes me again, inching my skirt higher, but with super human strength I pull away. “Not here,” I manage. “Someone could walk in.” “And?” he asks, a wicked glint in his eye. I flush, and he chuckles. “OK, we’ll have it your way. Outside.” Before I can point out that’s not what I meant, Finn pulls open the door and peers out. “All clear,” he says, and takes my hand, pulling me after him. He grabs a blanket from the closet behind us, and a bottle of champagne from the table in the hall, then ducks out the back door. I hesitate. Isn’t this what I’ve been fighting all along? If I walk out that door after him, there’s nothing but heartache waiting for me – and incredible, bone-deep pleasure. But if I stay, I’m playing it safe, the way I’ve done for years now: a neat, careful life with a heart that never breaks, but doesn’t have a chance to swell or beat, either. No chance to feel the storm crackling with electricity, or know the rush of total release. “Eva?” Finn stands in the doorway. My Finn. He’s wearing that heartbreaker smile again, the one that always takes my breath away. My heart aches for him. Sometimes I think it never stopped. The past can stay hidden, I remind myself. Secrets don’t have to be told. I make my choice, and follow.



Thirteen. Outside, the air is still warm, and the blast of music and lights is softened, filtering into the dark. We walk in silence down the path behind the house, under the lanterns that are strung all the way to the dock. I expect him to sit on the end of the wooden jetty like we did all those years ago, but instead, Finn climbs down the rickety ladder, down to a row-boat that’s tethered there, bobbing gently on the water. “Come on, I want to show you something.” I carefully climb down and join him in the boat, my heart beating faster. “Where are you taking me?” I ask, nervous. I take a seat on the narrow wooden bench opposite him, holding on to the side to keep my balance. Finn gives me a wicked grin and reaches for the oars. “Someplace nobody can hear you scream.” I laugh out loud, breaking the tension. “Way to sound like a serial killer!” I kick him lightly. Finn gives a grin. “You know that’s what the French call it: le petit mort.” My cheeks burn, and he laughs again. “You’re cute when you blush.” “It’s dark out, you can’t even see my face.” “I know you’re doing it anyway.” He rows us down the creek with long, even strokes, until the bright lights of the house are swallowed up by the trees. Still, the moon is bright tonight, casting a silvery glow on the water and marshland as we glide on by. “It’s so quiet out here,” I marvel, listening to the distant chirp of the crickets. “You must feel a long way from home.” Finn shrugs. “LA isn’t home. Nowhere is, really. Even when I was here, it wasn’t about the place. Home is people to me.” I can’t see his expression clearly; I can only hear a note of emotion in his voice. Or maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me, because he barely skips a beat before adding in a teasing voice. “Now it’s just the two of us. You can’t bolt when you get self conscious.” “But I can push you overboard,” I counter. Finn laughs. “I could use the cold shower right about now.” My stomach curls. Me too. Finn looks around in the darkness. “Here we are,” he says, angling the boat off the main creek. “Watch your head.” I duck just in time as we glide under an old cypress tree, the branches dipping heavily to skim the water. It’s like passing through a secret gate. Suddenly, the woods rear up, the creek collecting in a still, silent pool, fringed with trees and grassy riverbanks. Moonlight falls against the black ripples, and all I can hear is the hush of the forest and the trickle of water slipping over smooth, worn rocks. Everything is darkness, painted with silver reflections, private and alone. “It’s beautiful,” I breathe, taking it in. There’s something almost enchanted about this hidden corner of the world, so secluded it’s like the rest of the universe doesn’t exist. “I found it the other day.” Finn steers us to where the water gets shallow, then jumps out onto the shore. He tethers the boat to a tree branch, and offers his hand to help me out. “You’ve been here a week.” I hold on tightly as the boat rocks beneath me, carefully stepping onto solid ground. “I’m a man of many skills,” Finn laughs. “And you’ve only seen a couple.” He catches me around the waist and pulls me closer. I gasp, braced for another hard, all-consuming kiss, but this time, when his lips find mine, they’re slow and whisper soft. I melt against him, the sweetness rushing through me like a drug. His hands move to cradle my cheeks, his mouth barely grazing mine, over and over until I’m mindless with the gentle pleasure of

it. He kisses me like we have all the time in the world, and I feel him, everywhere. He tastes my lips; there’s the flicker of his tongue against mine. The warm night air sighs on my hot skin, and there’s the soft press of our bodies as he pulls me closer in his arms. I go to him, sink into him, lost in this moment I wish would never end, where nothing matters except the feel of him beneath my hands, and that simmering fire slowly burning hotter, brighter in my blood. Finn comes up for air, his breath heavy on my cheek as we stand there, holding each other in the dark. I can feel his heartbeat, strong in his chest, and I wonder how it can beat so steadily when my own pulse is racing. His hands slip over me, skimming my bare shoulders and over my silky camisole, making me shiver with sensation and a low, curling lust. “My sweet girl,” he whispers, kissing my skin so softly, it’s like I’m made of glass. He teases one finger down my arm, watching the skin pebble in its path. “Look at you.” He starts to follow the path of my goosebumps with a trail of soft kisses, but I’ve waited long enough. I tangle my fingers in his hair, and then bring his mouth back up to mine – where it belongs. This time, I’m the one leading the pace. Hotter, deeper, I kiss him with everything I have, trying to drown in the feel of him, so familiar and yet so brand-new. I must have kissed these lips a thousands times over, but it still feels like the first time – something darker, more intense than our teenage kisses could ever be. Now, there’s the soft scratch of beard against my skin, and a new hunger lurking just below the surface. His hands rove, clutching harder, and I twist in his arms, needing his touch more than ever to soothe this wildfire and quench the desperate thirst in me now. He grips me tightly around the waist and lifts me like I weigh nothing at all, pushing me back until I’m up against a tree. He reaches for my skirt, hands hot on my thighs, but I pull back. It’s always been him, pushing me further to the brink. Him, making my world unravel beneath those skilled hands. It’s my turn now, to discover everything he’s become, to learn his body by heart all over again. I unbuckle his belt, and sink to my knees. I hear Finn inhale in a rush. The grass is damp on my bare legs, but it’s cool and a welcome balm to the fire raging through me. I ease his jeans open, and find he’s wearing nothing beneath them at all. His cock springs free, hard and hot in my hands. God, this man is magnificent. I taste him slowly, every thick inch, savoring the feel of him between my lips, the salty taste. Finn’s body tenses, his hands moving to cradle my head closer. “Eva.” He groans into the darkness, as I part my lips wider, and take him all the way. It’s a rush like no other, to tease him like this, pulling back to gently lick along his shaft, swirling over his head before I take him into my mouth again. Finn strains against me, trying to bury himself deeper. But I keep him hanging on, languidly tormenting him the way he’s done so many times to me. Power races through me, metallic and bright, as his breathing grows ragged, and I feel his body tremble to my touch. Closer to the edge, I drive him, never giving too much, just a taste, a whisper of breath against his skin. My hands close around him, pumping slowly in time with my mouth until Finn is panting in frustration. I pull back, looking up at him as I brush my lips to the very tip. His head is thrown back, eyes shut, his face a mask of desperate need. Now he knows how it feels to love him. To want so much and never get enough. Finn looks down at me, eyes shadowed in the dark. “You’re driving me crazy,” he says, his voice thick with need. “Good.” I stroke my thumb over the head of his cock, pumping a little harder this time. He sucks in a breath. “Are you trying to kill me, woman?” I smile. “Maybe.”

I bring my mouth closer, and slowly take him between my lips – not looking away. “Fuck,” he gasps. “Eva.” I take him deeper. Finn’s grip tightens. He pistons his hips, finding my rhythm and matching it, urging me on. I move faster, sliding the tight arc of my lips around him and bobbing my head, keeping friction every inch of the way. Now, there’s no holding back. Finn’s hands are knotted in my hair, controlling the pace, but I love it, love surrendering to every hard, deep thrust of his cock between my lips, and how it makes my whole body flush and ache with lust. I slip my hand between my legs, stroking myself in time with his thrusts, and it’s enough to make me moan against him, the sound muffled by the thick, hard length of him. “Eva.” Finn’s groans take on a warning note. “Baby, I’m close—” I don’t pull away. I can’t. Not when I still need him, when my body is wound so tight and only this madness can satisfy me. I angle my head, taking him all the way to the back of my throat, and Finn make a noise halfway between a protest and a plea. I move again, sliding my tongue along the length of him, then taking him deep, almost to the hilt, and then again, faster this time. I hear him gasp, hear his ragged groan, but I don’t stop, not for a second, even as I quicken the furious pace of my fingers between my damp thighs. God, it feels too good, being possessed by him like this: on my knees, mouth open to take that incredible cock as far as I can. I’ve never given myself to a man like this, never craved surrender the way I need it now. He could do whatever he wants with me, and I would still come, begging for more. My body tightens, my own climax close. I take his cock as deep as I can, sucking hard as I feel him thicken and surge against my tongue. “Eva—” Finn warns again, trying to pull away, but I reach up, blindly grasping his hands and pulling them back to my head again, to keep me in place, to pin me there to take it all. “Fuck,” Finn curses, realizing what I mean, and it’s enough to send him hurtling over the edge, his body shuddering hard as he suddenly explodes, gushing hot and wet in the back of my throat. I swallow down every last drop, surrendered to the pleasure crashing through me, the wild song in my bloodstream and, God, the dazed release in his eyes. I climax in a shudder against my own hand, watching him finally fall apart.



Fourteen. We head back to the house, my heart still racing. I feel drunk, even though I’ve only sipped champagne. My body is flushed and soaring, every whisper of breeze slipping over my hyper sensitive skin in a new rustle of sensation. Finn’s barely spoken, rowing us back to his dock with steady strokes, but as he reaches his hand to help me up the ladder again, I feel him startle to my touch, his eyes searching mine in the dark. “Do you want to go back to the party?” he asks slowly. “Or…” There’s a world of possibility wrapped up in that word, fading into the night. I can hear the party noise again, music and laughter, bright lights glowing through the trees. Lottie must be having a great time, Delilah too. Inside, I would be swallowed up in the crowd again, a safe buffer between Finn and I for the rest of the night. But I don’t want safe anymore. “Take me home,” I say, blushing to hear the desire in my voice. Finn squeezes my hand, and we cut across the lawn to my car. I hand him the keys. I don’t think I could focus on the road, not even if my life depended on it. He opens the passenger door for me, and I slip inside, my mind racing ahead of us, to everything waiting back at my place. The images flash in my mind, sensual and wild, until I’m almost surprised to find the engine shut off, and us right outside the front door. I let us in. The dark here feels different somehow, full of intent. I’m surprised to find myself nervous, even after everything. “You want a drink?” I ask brightly, flipping the lights on and bustling through to the kitchen. I open the fridge. “I have water, and beer, and juice—” “I want you.” Finn’s hands are on my waist from behind. His voice low in my ear. I shiver, sinking back against him, basking in the heat from his body, and the cool chill from the open refrigerator. My skin prickles and my nipples tighten, stiff against my camisole. Staying behind me, Finn brings his hands around to cup my breasts, gently stroking and squeezing at the tender peaks. I sigh in pleasure, resting my head on his shoulder, arching up as one hand glides over my stomach and teases as the band of bare skin where my top meets the waist of my skirt. “Bedroom?” Finn asks, kissing the arch of my neck and making me shiver. “Upstairs.” He doesn’t move, though, just slides his hand under my skirt, down between my legs. I arch back against him, still wound so tight from before in ways my own roving fingers couldn’t satisfy. Now, he finds my aching center and slowly caresses me through my panties. “You want me,” he whispers, like a victory. I sigh. “I always want you.” I turn, finding his mouth again. This kiss is slow, sizzling with tension. Finn edges my legs apart and presses his palm against me. I moan against him as he teases, sliding his fingers under my damp panties and brushing them lightly over my slick heat. Yes, I implore him silently. There. Finn slides his finger inside me and bites down softly on my lower lip. I shudder, the sweetness edged with a touch of pain. My body is wound tight, but I can barely breathe, suspended on the delicate caress of his hands, and the gentle curl of his finger, beckoning just right. Over and over, and— I come in a ripple of sensation, but it doesn’t even touch the great storm of desire that’s still waiting, barely contained. When I open my eyes, Finn is watching me, a curious smile on his face. “What?” I flush, self conscious.

“Nothing.” He smiles, then lifts his hand to his mouth – slowly sucking his finger clean. Oh God. Lust races through me in a shudder I can’t hide. Finn’s eyes darken, seeing my reaction. “Upstairs,” he orders me. “Now.” My pulse kicks. I walk to the hall, and quickly climb the stairs, feeling as well as hearing him behind me with every step. My bedroom is the back one, smaller than the others, but with a view into the treetops and a small balcony looking over the yard. Now I’m glad of the privacy, even out here in the woods with no neighbors for miles around. The windows are open, drapes fluttering loose. Finn closes the door behind us and surveys the room – and me. “Take it off,” he says softly. “I want to see you.” The light is dim, but I still feel a wave of self consciousness as I lift my camisole over my head and let it drop to the floor. My skirt goes next, and I push it down in a flutter of silk, leaving me standing in front of him in my panties and bra. Displayed. The last time he saw me naked, I was sixteen, slim, and taut, and perky. It’s only been five years, but I know my body has changed. I’ve filled out, my breasts have grown larger, but my hips have gotten fuller too. My stomach curves gently, no longer effortlessly flat. What does he think of me now? Finn doesn’t speak. I finally glance up, but the look on his face stops me in my tracks. He’s looking at me the way nobody has before, as if I’m a piece of art displayed in a grand museum, something to worship and revere. “Come here,” he murmurs softly, holding his hand out, and I go to him. He pulls me close, and it’s not close enough – I tug at his shirt, needing that delicious contact of skin on skin. Finn chuckles, and obliges me, shedding his clothes swiftly until they join mine on the floor. “Wait,” he says, reaching for his jeans. “It’s OK,” I stop him. “I’m on birth control.” Now I’m the one to pause, and drink in the sight of him. Taut, golden muscles, the ridge of his abs, and the trail of bronze hair snaking lower… I bite my lip, knowing how he would feel against me. Inside me. Finn tugs me back towards the bed. He sits on the edge, and slides his hands around to cup my ass. His beard scratches my bare stomach as he kisses across my skin, pausing to dip and swirl his tongue in the hollow of my belly button. I squirm away, giggling. Finn looks up with a grin. “You were always ticklish here.” “And you always tormented me with it.” He reaches up and unsnaps my bra with one hand – and a wicked look in his eyes. I laugh. “Someone’s been learning.” “I told you, baby,” Finn drawls. “I’ve got skills.” I smile down at him, hit with a sudden rush of familiarity, the sweet affection of those panting, breathless nights. All that time we spent discovering each other didn’t just dissolve into nothing. It’s still here, guiding every kiss and touch with the knowledge we earned back then. I know this man by heart, how his body tenses when I whisper in his ear, how his skin leaps to my touch, just how to move when he’s close to the edge. And he knows me, better than anyone. I lean in to kiss him, with all the bittersweet regret of the past, and a new heat, too. Desire I couldn’t begin to understand the last time his hands were on me. But I’m older now, wiser and bolder, too. I’m not the innocent he remembers. I can take my pleasure, as well as give it. I let my bra fall then straddle him, moving closer. Finn is already hard against me, and I press into

him, feeling the thickness leap and my own answering shudder at the friction and low, deep pull. He lies back, pulling me with him, until we’re tumbled in the sheets – his mouth searching out my breasts, worshiping me with his kisses until I’m moaning out loud. I slide my hands over his body, every smooth muscle and hot, ripped plane, needing to possess it all, but Finn pins me down, giving a smoldering smile as he surveys my almost-naked body. “Not this time,” he murmurs, sliding his thumb in my mouth. My breath catches, at the intimacy of his touch. “I’ve been waiting to fuck you for too damn long. The next time you come, it’s going to be with my cock buried deep inside.” My blood boils, just to hear his filthy promises. He chuckles, stroking my flushed cheek. “I love how kinky you got,” he whispers, sliding his hand down to grip my panties. “We’re going to have some fun with that.” Before I can react, he yanks the lace so hard it rips clean away from me. Finn grips my thighs and spreads them wide apart, positioning himself above me. I brace myself for the thrust, gripping tight to the bedsheets, but he pauses there, looking down at me with that bittersweet smile. “I’ve missed you, baby.” His hand strokes along my cheek, so soft, so sweet, it could break my heart all over again – if I didn’t already know, this is just for tonight. “You’re here now,” I whisper, focusing on the only thing that matters. Our bodies, so close to the edge now, and all I want to do is fall. “You came home to me.”



Fifteen.

Finn. It feels like I’ve spent my whole life waiting for the moment when our bodies meet and I thrust inside her, slow as I can bear. I feel every inch, every last moment as Eva’s body opens to me, sheathing me tightly and robbing the breath from my goddamn lungs. Nothing’s ever been so perfect. Nothing could ever come close to this. I brace myself above her, trying my best to keep a grip. After all this time, the last thing I want is to remind her of a teenager all over again, eager and clumsy. God, I remember the first time, how I could barely keep it together. I was so caught up in the scent of her, the feel, the taste. Now, the movement of our bodies brings all that rushing back. Fuck, I could lose myself in her and never come up for air. Eva makes a moaning noise, wrapping her legs around me to take me deeper. Goddamn. I clench my jaw, sinking into her sweetness again, all the way to the hilt. “Finn,” she whispers, and I find her staring up at me, those eyes wide on mine. “Don’t hold back, please. Give me everything. I need to feel it.” The plaintive need in her voice is too much. My last self-control severs, breaking beyond repair. In one swift motion, I scoop her in my arms and roll us, bringing her down hard in my lap. She gasps, my cock surging up inside her, filling her. I thrust again, and her answering moan makes me even harder. Goddamn, I’m so hard it hurts. “Feel it, baby,” I groan, fisting her hair in my hand. I piston again, gripping her hip and forcing her body down on my cock so hard her breasts bounce with the impact. Eva cries out in pleasure. “This is what you do to me. Only you. Now take what I’ve got to give you. Ride me, baby. Ride me all the way home.” Her eyes fly open, her lips parted, so goddamn sexy. She arches her back and finds her rhythm, rising and falling as I thrust, and fuck, the feel of her so wet and tight around me could burn the world to the ground. “You like it like this?” I demand hoarsely. “You want to set the pace?” I slip a hand between us, rubbing softly her slick, tender nub. Eva whimpers, her movement slowing, eyes wide with a desperate need. She’s breathing heavy, her pert chest rising and falling with every pant, but I can see her strength is fading, overwhelmed with the pleasure I’m fucking into her with every thick, deep thrust. I roll us again, crushing her beneath me. I pin her wrists up above her head and piston deeper, fuck, so deep. “Or maybe you like it when I take control, hmm, baby girl? When I tell you how wet you are for me, how good it feels when your tight little pussy is clenching at my cock.” Eva’s breath shivers, and her cheeks flood red. “That’s right,” I growl, nipping at her earlobe. “You like it when I talk dirty, don’t you?” She whimpers in answer, rocking up to meet my thrusts. I pull out, then slide just the tip back inside. Eva makes a noise of frustration, trying to rise up, and take me in, but I keep her pinned to the mattress, struggling against my grip. “Shh, baby. I’m just getting started.” I graze my lips lower, taking one perfect pert nipple into my mouth, and suck hard until Eva writhes against me. “We’ve got all night, and you better be damn sure I’m going to use every last second.”

I worship her body, one kiss at a time. The slope of her breast. The smooth stretch of her stomach. Her body’s changed since I explored it last, becoming more womanly and lush. “You’re going to beg for me, beg for just another inch, and when I finally give it to you, when I finally let you come, that’s when you’ll know, you belong to me, baby. You’ll always be mine.” Eva moans in frustration, but I don’t let up for a second. She doesn’t realize, how close I am to losing it all. This is the only way I can make it last, give her all the pleasure she deserves until she can’t live without me again. I’m playing dirty, but damn, it’s all I’ve got. I ease into her again, slowly, filling her up. I can see it in her face, she’s taking every inch, and fuck, the warm, tight clench of her is incredible. She said I was coming home, and that’s what it feels like. Here, in her arms, with nothing between us anymore, I feel the kind of peace I’ve not found the whole world over. A rightness, a belonging. And fuck, it drives me crazy, but underneath the screaming nerve endings and mad, hot lust, there’s something more powerful than just this moment. Beyond physical, to where it touches my soul. This girl, this place. Right here. I move inside her again, and Eva rises to me, her eyes falling shut as the sensation takes us both over. Too much for words, or even thought; just the hot, craving pulse of our bodies. Deeper. Slower. Every tiny point of friction and contact between us ricochets, a kaleidoscope surging, so bright it could blind me right here where I lay. I steal another kiss, and she moans into my mouth, clutching my shoulders so hard I feel the bite of her nails in my skin. The animal in me takes over. I slam into her, hard. Eva cries out. “Finn!” My name on her lips is all I want in the world, her screaming for me for the rest of our lives. I thrust again, harder, and feel her body shudder and moan. She arches up, gripping me tight, thrusting to meet my every stroke. Fuck, it’s a miracle how much she wants me too. Taking from me without question, demanding everything my cock can give and more. And damn, I’m going to give it to her. I flip her over, facedown in the sheets, then pull her hips back to meet mine. This time, when I thrust into her, Eva’s whole body shudders in response. “Oh God,” she whimpers into a pillow. “I know, baby.” I fist her hair, arching her body back to me like a bow, taut and ready for impact. “There’s a reason they fuck like this in the wild. It goes deeper, all the fucking way.” I would play it nice, I would whisper sweet things, but I know now that Eva loves it like this. Dirty. Raw. So I fuck her hard from behind, reaching to cup those sweet breasts and squeeze her nipples, the angle here even better than the last. She’s gasping, writhing, convulsing on my cock, but I don’t let up for a second. I make her take it deep and hard, and she loves every second of it. “Yes!” her voice takes on a new, desperate pitch. “There, fuck, don’t stop!” She grinds back against me, wanting every last inch. Fuck. This girl is a goddamn miracle, sweetness and pure sex bound up in one perfect package. I bury myself in her, relentless now. She’s close, she’s on the edge, and I am, too. So goddamn ready to explode. But I made a promise, and she needs to know I keep my promises now. “Tell me what you need,” I order harshly, tugging on her hair. Eva moans, “You, Finn.” “Beg for it.” I thrust into her again. “Beg for my cock.” “Please,” she gasps, grinding back. “Please Finn.” “What?” I demand, leaning to cover her body with my own. I fuck her into the mattress again, gripping her hips tightly and slamming into that sweet, wet warmth. “I want to hear it.”

Eva shudders in my arms. “Please, Finn. I need your cock. I need you, inside me. I need every inch!” Fuck. Yes. My body tenses, the rush coiling fast. I slide my hand between her legs, rubbing her clit as I plunge into her one last time. Eva lets out a cry, her body convulsing with shudders that massage my cock from the inside out. It’s paradise, fucking heaven right here. As the force of her orgasm takes us both over, I let go, exploding inside her as the heat rages through me, splitting the world wide open until there’s nothing but fire and ash, and Eva in my arms. Mine. * When I wake, Eva is sound asleep, naked in my arms. Her hair is tangled and her cheeks flushed red. She looks like she’s been fucked for days, and sure, it’s dumb, but I still feel a stab of pride I put that look on her face. She’d look like that every night if I had my chance. I cradle her softly, and press a gentle kiss to her brow. How could I have left her? How can she ever forgive me for walking away? The guilt weighs on me, crushing my chest until it’s too much to take. I get out of bed and grab my jeans from the floor. The house is quiet, but there’s a balcony area off the bedroom. I silently slide the door open and go to sit on the bench out there. I breathe in the crisp air and watch the shadows. Surrounded by the woods, this couldn’t be further from my place back in LA, or my usual New York hotel room. There, the city lights were always a comfort when I’d spend sleepless nights like this, keeping me company as I went back over past sins, a pen in one hand and my guitar in the other, trying to make something beautiful out of a broken heart. I thought I was healing, maybe even sending a message out in the world to her, but after the record hit and the money and adoration started rolling in, it felt dirty. Wrong, somehow, that I could leave and profit from that pain. Some of the songs I even stopped performing. The ones that felt too personal, too bound up in her. Before tonight, I don’t think I’d played ‘Sometimes’ live in years, even though the fans always beg me, and it’s hard to turn them down. Does she know it’s all been for her? I curse under my breath, wondering how the fuck I let it get this far. I didn’t mean to come back like this, but one glimpse of her was all it took. I wasn’t going to stop until she was naked in my bed again. I could tell she wanted me to stay away, that she’s still trying to figure out if she wants to let me back in her life, but that didn’t stop me. I know the way to touch her, just what kind of kiss will make her lose her mind. Is it so wrong I want whatever part of her I can get? If her heart is never going to be mine, I’ll settle for her body, for any damn thing she’s willing to give. I’ll be a fucking dog at the table, begging for scraps, just as long as she graces me with something. A smile. A touch. Her body, coming hard around my cock every time. There’s a noise behind me. I turn and find Eva framed in the doorway, wrapped up in a short, silky robe. My cock leaps to attention again, just seeing the way it pours off her body. “Hey.” She gives me a sleepy smile, her hair messy, but her eyes shining bright. “What are you doing out here?” “Just thinking.” I beckon, and she comes to me, sliding into my lap and wrapping her arms around me like she was made to fit there, just right. I take a ragged breath, wishing I could stay like this forever. That the

future – and the past – could all just melt away. But it’s too late for that. I can tell Eva’s got something on her mind. She takes my hand between hers, toying with it, twisting her fingers in mine. I hear a reluctant sigh. “Tell me,” I say, kissing her head, knowing the end is right there in front of us. “Just get it out, whatever you need.” Eva pulls back, far enough to twist around and look me in the eye. Her gaze is shadowed, almost fearful, when she finally asks the question I’ve been asking myself for five long years now. “Why did you leave me?” Her words slice through me, so deep I swear they draw blood. Eva looks away, like it’s hurting her even to ask. “Why did you just go? If you didn’t want me, you could have just said. Left me a note, or called. Anything to tell me what was going on. But instead, you just disappeared. You left me here, and you never even said goodbye.” Her voice twists, and I can see it in her face. Fuck, I can see the wound still open, raw and painful. I did this. I hurt the one person in the world I swore I would always protect. I broke her heart, and I might never be able to make it right again. I can’t stand it. I get up, pacing to the edge of the balcony just to get some room for this, the pale excuses I must have rehearsed a million times. But those words, the platitudes, they don’t mean jack shit, not with Eva waiting. Waiting for the reasons I don’t have to give. “I’m sorry.” It won’t change anything, but I mean it with every fiber of my being. I grip the railing, and say it again, still avoiding that beautiful face and all the tragic disappointment waiting there. “I’m sorry, I truly am. I wish I had something to tell you that would make it okay, but I don’t. I don’t have anything. I was young, and fucked up, and I thought I knew best for us. I thought leaving was the only chance I could give you.” I stare out into the dark. Fuck, here I am, supposedly older and wiser, and I’m still too chicken shit to face her. Be a man. Be a goddamn better man than you were five years ago. I steel myself, and turn to face the truth. Eva is looking at me with hope in her eyes, like she’s still holding out for an answer that will make sense of it all. But there is none. “I did it for us,” I say finally, hollow with regret. “For you. I thought… I thought I was giving you a chance to live your dreams. Taking myself out of the equation before I just dragged you down.” Eva stares at me. Whatever she was expecting me to say, it’s not this. She shakes her head, trying to process it. “I don’t understand.” “I know you don’t.” I look away, hating the guilt clawing tight in my chest. “You didn’t know what it was like for me, back then. And that’s my fault, too,” I add bitterly. “I hid it from you. I hid a lot of shit. About my dad, how bad it got there in the end.” I pause, the past rushing up on me again. “But you have to believe me, I thought I was doing the right thing. I was just a fuck up with no future, heading straight to the gutters – or jail.” I look at her, plaintively. “How could I have ever given you the life you deserved?” “That’s not true!” Eva cries, angry. I bow my head. “And maybe I know that now.” I sigh. “But back then, I was just a stupid kid. I was so goddamn scared of turning out like my dad, a loser drunk that couldn’t hold a job. Who did nothing but cause misery, until he ruined everyone who loved him.” She closes the distance between us. “Finn, you’re nothing like your father.” Eva insists. “Nothing!” “That’s not what he’d tell me,” I answer softly, remembering the insults and petty taunts. “All those nights he got so blind drunk he could barely stand. He said I was useless, that it was in my blood, and there was no escape. I was damaged like him, and I’d only bring you down.” In an instant, I’m back there again. Trapped, and so goddamn confused. Eva tries to put her arms

around me, but I break away. “I spent my life planning how to leave him,” I admit, shaken. “I know it wasn’t his fault. The war fucked him up, it broke something inside him, and maybe I should have tried harder to help, but… I couldn’t take it anymore. It was just him and me in that house, and I couldn’t live that way, waiting for him to crack. I knew, sooner or later, one of us would wind up dead.” I go cold remembering it all, despite the warm night air. But I can’t stop now. She deserves to know the truth, and after everything, I owe her this much. Even if it makes me sick to remember, even if I swore I would never look back again. “The day I hit graduation, I was out of there,” I tell her bleakly. “I had it all figured out. I would picture myself anywhere but here. A million miles from his twisted anger, where he couldn’t hurt me anymore.” I pause, and turn to give her a bittersweet smile. “And then I met you.” She holds me again, and this time, I don’t have the strength left to pull away. “I didn’t know,” Eva whispers sadly. “You never said a word.” “I couldn’t,” I tell her, my voice raw with emotion. “You were everything to me. The one good thing in this town. In my whole mess of a life. You made me believe that maybe I was worth something after all. That you and I could make a life together. Something real.” I feel the warmth of her body, wrapped around me just like before. Giving me strength, and something to hold on to. “I started thinking that maybe I could hold out another year,” I admit. “Find a job here in town, and move out. Do something to make it through until you graduated too.” I laugh, hollow. “As if it could be so simple, that love could overcome all odds.” “So why didn’t you stay?” she asks in a small voice. “We could have made it work. If you’d just told me how bad things were getting. If you’d let me in. I would have done anything, Finn. Anything you needed. And then, maybe.” She stops, biting back her words. “What could you have done?” I ask. “Come on, baby. You were focused on school, and acting, all those interviews for drama schools you had your heart set on. And I wanted that for you.” I swear. “Fuck, so bad. I wanted you to have everything. The life you deserved.” “Will you stop saying that?” Eva exclaims. “You’re talking like you didn’t deserve good things too, but I was there. I remember. You were everything to me, too!” I look away. “I know. I know you would have given up everything to be with me, but you think I could have lived with that? I was stuck between a rock and a fucking bullet, and I didn’t see a way out for us both.” Eva shivers. “You keep talking about bullets. About your dad.” She pauses, looking anxious. “What happened, Finn? What aren’t you still telling me?” I shake my head, wordless, but she keeps pushing. “Please. I need to know. There’s nothing you can tell me that I won’t understand.” “Eva.” For all my pained confession, there’s still a part of me locked shut. I don’t want to crack that last defense, but I can see it in her eyes. She won’t rest until I tell her everything. “Trust me, please,” Eva whispers again. “Don’t shut me out again.” It hurts like fuck, and if this were anyone else, I would just walk away rather than disturb these old ghosts. I’ve pieced my life back together, made something I can even be proud of, but it all feels like it’s unraveling again in this same damn town that chewed me up and spit me out all those years ago, back when I was just a bruised, broken kid making all the wrong choices. But maybe that’s the point now. Back then, I didn’t want to share my burden. I pushed her away, and it wrecked us forever. I should have believed in her the way she believes in me now. It’s the only way I’ll ever be free from the past.



Sixteen. I wait, my heart beating with an anxious staccato pace. This is wrong, all wrong. I can see it just in Finn’s expression – so tense, and all alone. I hold him tighter, waiting. What has he been hiding all these years? How did I not notice what was breaking him in two? “Fuck,” Finn curses under his breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve been running from all this for so long now, trying to put it behind me and move on.” “And how’s that working out for you?” I ask, trying to make him smile. Finn chuckles. It’s still a hollow sound, but I’ll take it. I’ll take anything that lifts the terrible pain in his eyes and gives me back a glimpse of the man I thought I knew. “It was graduation day,” he starts, moving to sit on the bench. I go with him, still holding his hand tightly, listening to each word weighed down with guilt and remorse. “And I was happy. I felt like I’d finally made it through, proven everyone wrong. I could see the finish line, a life with you. I remember, I even showed up at the ceremony, sat through all the bullshit speeches just to see your face in the crowd.” I squeeze him. “I remember. I was really proud of you.” Finn sighs. “I thought maybe he would show, too. I left the invite out for him, even got his suit laundered in case he was sober long enough to pull it together. But he didn’t.” He shrugs. “I told myself I was relieved, that he didn’t embarrass me in front of everyone, but still. I wanted him there. I wanted to show him I wasn’t the loser he said I was.” “I had no idea,” I whisper, feeling so guilty I can barely stand it. “I had no idea it was so bad. You never said.” Finn shrugs again, a pained, jerky motion. “It’s not your fault. I should have spoken up a hundred times. Gone to Bill, or a teacher, or your parents. They could have helped, maybe, but I was too damn proud and ashamed to reach out. It felt like it was my burden, my wretched cross to bear.” He takes another breath, and pushes on before I can say anything. It’s like the words have been bottled up inside him too long, and he just wants to get them out now. “After the celebration, we made plans to meet that night at the pier,” he continues. “And I went home. I was going to pack a bag. Take you away for the weekend, to that bed and breakfast up the coast. Remember, we had it all figured out.” I smile, remembering. A girl from my class was having a birthday trip to their beach house up the coast, so my cover was all set up. All I had to do was meet Finn that night, and we’d have the whole weekend to ourselves. I was giddy with it, so in love I couldn’t see straight. Until six o clock turned into seven, and eight, and I was all alone in the dark crying for the boy who never showed. “I remember,” I say sadly, and Finn places his hand over mine. “When I got back to the house, my dad was there.” His words are slower and deliberate now, full of something ominous. “He was wasted again, but this was something worse. The way he talked, it was like a goodbye. Like he was getting it all off his chest before the end.” I freeze. What does he mean? I don’t dare take my eyes from Finn’s face as he slowly tells me the rest of the story. “He said the usual, about how I was fucking up your life too. That I’d get you pregnant, and ruin everything the way he ruined my mom’s life. That you’d leave me the way she left us, and I’d be left with nothing but a disappointment for a kid.” I have to bite my tongue to keep from interrupting. How could Hank have done this to him? How could he have made the strongest, most loving man I’ve ever known feel like he was worthless and a waste of space?

“I told him to go to hell, and went to pack my things,” Finn continues, still so tense and cold beneath my hands. “I had my bag, I was on my way out, when.” he stops, like he’s watching the scene play out in front of him all over again. “He was in his chair, that fucking chair in front of the TV. But he had the shotgun in his hands, and… and…” Finn takes a ragged breath. I hold him tight. God, what did he go through? “He said this was my fault. That I’d never learn. And then he pulled the trigger.” Finn lifts his eyes, so full of pain. “He put the gun in his mouth and he pulled the trigger, right in front of me. And for a split-second, I was relieved. Do you hear me, Eva? I was glad, because it would all be over. I’d finally be free.” There are tears in his eyes now, but he clenches his jaw, holding them at bay. It’s all I can do to just hold him, hold him as he relives the nightmare all over again. “I guess the bastard didn’t even keep his own gun clean, because the damn firing mechanism jammed. I didn’t give him another chance. I got it away from him. I was yelling, and he, he was past caring.” Finn’s voice is raw. “I knocked him out, took the gun with me, and I bailed. I just got in my car and drove. I was shaking so hard, I didn’t even see where I was going. I pulled over, miles out of town. I couldn’t even keep hold of the wheel.” He gulps in another breath of air. “I was sitting there on the side of the road when I realized he was right.” “No, Finn—” “He was right about me,” he insists, looking at me now. “If I’d stayed, if I’d tried to build that life with you, I would have been no better than him. Holding you back, dragging you down. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. We both know the truth. I had nothing to offer, no future, no ambition. So I just kept driving—” “You had everything to offer me!” I interrupt, suddenly spitting mad. I’ve listened to his tragedy, all the things I couldn’t fix, but I won’t have him believing this. I can’t. “You loved me, and that was all I ever wanted.” “Love wouldn’t have paid the bills,” Finn counters. “It doesn’t put a roof over your head, or get you to drama school, or give you the thousand things you should have to make a start in life. Come on, Eva. We were a couple of teenagers. How were we ever supposed to make it work?” “So maybe we would have failed,” I shoot back fiercely. “Maybe it would have all fallen apart. But that was my choice to make. Mine. It was my life, and my heart, and you took that choice away. You didn’t let me choose you!” My voice echoes into the dark. Finn looks at me, with such sadness in his gaze I could turn the clock back and wipe all this pain away. Make it so he never had to doubt himself or suffer. Make it so the last words he ever heard from his father weren’t cruel and twisted blame. Because I see it now, the impossible choice he thought he had to make. I’ve been blaming him all this time for leaving me, searching for his reasons and coming up empty handed. I thought it was selfishness, or cowardice. I thought it was my fault, or that he just didn’t love me enough to stay. But in the end, it was because he loved me more than enough, and too much to believe he deserved happiness. Everything in his life had told him that he was no good, so was it any wonder that when it came to that razor ’s edge of indecision, he picked the darkness? The fear. The road alone. He wasn’t to know the burden he left behind. I ache to think of him out there on his own. I had my parents, Lottie, even Gracie, trying to blot out my broken heart in all the wrong ways. But Finn? He had nobody, and nothing but the life he built for himself from scratch, piece by piece, with only his own determination and talent to light the way. I wasted my chances, but he conjured his own out of thin air, and look what he’s made of them now. Success, admiration, the whole world at his feet. He made it all happen, because that’s just the kind of man he is.

I hold him close. “Thank you for telling me,” I whisper. “I’m just so sorry I didn’t know. I wish I could have been there for you, helped you somehow--” “Hey.” Finn pulls back. “Don’t you ever say that,” he orders me, his eyes blazing in the dark. “You were the first person to believe in me. You kept me going, even through my darkest days. You’re the whole reason I’m here, why I made anything of myself. I never stopped loving you, Eva,” he swears. “It’s all because of you.” I stare at him in disbelief, but his words haven’t even landed before his lips crash down on mine; a fevered kiss that’s edged with desperate emotion. He pushes me back against the wall, and I take him in, taste every last moment. He wraps my legs around his waist, hands wild in my hair and on my skin. I kiss him hungrily, nothing holding us back now. The years melt away and for the first time in what feels like forever, the ache lifts from my chest. I never stopped loving you… Finn carries me back inside the bedroom as my head spins and my heart pounds with giddy relief. He tumbles me back onto the bed, and then I feel the weight of him, God, that glorious weight – his body pressing me into the mattress, his muscular limbs wrapping around me, holding me tightly. Safe and sound in his arms again. He peels off my robe, and exhales a slow breath. “You’re a masterpiece, you know that?” he whispers, dropping a dozen kisses on my naked skin, light as feathers. “I could never put in words what you do to me. I’ve tried a hundred times, but those songs, they don’t even come close.” Emotion rushes through me, and suddenly, I’m on the edge of tears. “Hey,” he murmurs, brushing my cheeks. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” “No,” I shake my head, trying to blink back the tears. “I’m sorry. I let you down, I’ve spent all this time hating you.” “I deserved it.” He rests his forehead against mine, so I feel every breath on my own lips. “You’re right. It wasn’t my choice to make. And all this could have been avoided if I’d just talked to you. Trusted you enough to let you in.” Finn pauses, his voice breaking with intensity. “Do you think you can you ever forgive me?” I cradle his face in my hands. That face that’s haunted my dreams, so gorgeous it almost hurts to look. “I already do,” I breathe, and watch his eyes flash with raw emotion. “I forgive you, Finn. But can you do the same for me?” He frowns. “You don’t need it, Eva. You never did.” I open my mouth, but Finn swallows up my confession with another burning kiss. This one is deeper, more powerful than ever, and the strength of it takes my breath away. Dazzling and free, I sink into the kiss, his mouth on mine, his body moving over me, touching me, opening me up to the heat and slow burn brilliance that builds, coiling tight through every inch of my body. This time, it’s slow. Deep. So tender, I can’t hold back the tears. Finn touches me over and over, sliding those miraculous hands across my aching skin until I’m panting and dizzy for him, wordlessly begging until at last, he sinks inside me and everything in the world is set to rights again. He fills me, fuck, every last inch, until I lose track of where I end and he begins. He starts to move, but I hold him back, needing to just feel him. This moment, right here. I inhale in a shuddering rush, flexing around him and feeling his body tense and groan in response. It’s incredible. I’m surrounded, overwhelmed, possessed by him, the scent of him, the crush of his body, and the raw desire burning in those blue eyes. It’s all too much, and not enough at once. I could lose myself in him for a hundred years, and still be hungry for more. This is all I ever wanted, and now, holding him again, all I can think is how I never want to let him go.

“My girl,” he murmurs, biting down softly on my lower lip. I moan, and it’s all the invitation he needs to surge deeper inside me, and take my breath away all over again. I arch up, moving with him, and God, it’s beautiful. He drives me higher with every thick stroke, the whisper of his mouth and hands on my skin, and how his cock feels, so deep, so incredibly right. I’m twisting higher now, burning out of control. I buck against him, but Finn doesn’t waver, he doesn’t let up one second. He keeps on fucking me slowly, relentless, until my body feels inside out and every nerve ending is raw and electric; totally exposed. I’m whimpering, mindless, and his voice is right there in my ear, urging me on. “Take it deeper, baby. Take every inch of my cock.” He’s hoarse, growling now with labored control, but it still makes me wet to hear him whisper all those filthy, secret words. “That’s right,” he murmurs, thrusting into me again so deep I have to gasp. “You need it all, my dirty girl. Nobody can do you like this, baby. Nobody knows exactly what you need.” “You do,” I whimper. “That’s right. Only me.” Finn shifts his weight, grinding up now with every stroke to hit my clit too, the sweet, maddening friction. “Only me,” he says again. “Say it.” I moan as pleasure fuses through me. Building. Circling. “Only you,” I vow, clinging on for dear life. “It’s always been you.” Finn stills, and I gasp, needing more. But he just clasps my check in his hand, forcing my gaze up to him, so I can see the look in his eyes as he slowly, slowly drives into me again. Oh God. “Let go,” he orders me. “You’re there, baby. You just need to fall.” I want to. I’m so fucking close, but part of me is holding back. We’ve stripped away all the games and distractions, and my heart open like never before – but I’m scared to take that leap. And then Finn drives into me suddenly, hard and fast, and the universe contracts to just the sweet friction of our bodies. The spark ignites, exploding through me in a wild rush of pleasure so strong it rips a fevered cry from my lips. I come hard, clutching to him, and it’s only when I surface to his shuddering body that I hear him muttering my name, over and over, a sweet lullaby that takes us both into the black.



Seventeen. I wake up to find the bed beside me empty. For a moment I tense, the past rushing back to me. But then I hear music playing downstairs on the radio, and smell the sweetest scent on earth floating through the morning air. I wrap myself in a robe and wander downstairs. “Is that bacon?” I greet Finn in the kitchen. He’s shirtless and damp from the shower, standing over the griddle pan with a pair of tongs in one hand, and suddenly, I get breathless and weak. Every woman’s fantasy brought to life: a hot man who cooks. Could he get any sexier? “Morning, sleepyhead.” Finn gives me a lazy smile, full of promise. “What time is it?” I yawn, stretching. My body aches, but it’s a sweet pain, a reminder of everything that happened last night. “Almost seven.” Finn grins. “I tried to wake you, I didn’t know if you had to be at the office today, but you were pretty out of it.” “Well, someone wore me out.” I walk over and slide my arms around him, dropping a light kiss on his shoulder. “Why do I have to go to work? I feel like I could sleep for days.” He laughs. “Even if you could stay home, you wouldn’t be sleeping.” “No?” “Uh huh.” He turns around, holding me close. “I would have very different plans,” he says, kissing along the delicate arch of my neck. “First, you eat, then I’d fuck you senseless another dozen times. And that’s just for starters,” he adds, as my whole body shivers in anticipation. “Can we hit pause on that plan for, ooh, the next eight hours?” Finn smiles. “You can bet on it.” I hungrily eye the spread he’s got going: eggs, bacon, pancakes. It all looks amazing. “Since when did you learn to cook?” “Since I overdosed on bad junk food on tour.” Finn expertly slides food onto two plates and hands them to me. “OJ or coffee?” “Both please.” I take our food out onto the back porch, and Finn follows with our drinks. We sit on the bench there and dive into the food. I haven’t been so hungry for days, and it’s not until my plate is almost empty that I come up for air. Finn is watching me. “What?” “Nothing. Just, I love that look. When you’re eating and you can’t get enough.” I arch an eyebrow. “Get used to it,” I smirk, “You’re not the only one who has plans for the weekend.” I slide my hand over his thigh, and he laughs out loud. “Anytime you like, baby.” Finn winks. “I won’t stand in your way.” Finn puts his empty plate aside, and drapes one arm around me as he drinks his coffee. It’s quiet out, the early morning sun filtering through the trees, and the sound of birdsong chirping lightly in the background. I inhale a deep breath, taking it all in, and just like that, I’m filled with a sense of peace, bone-deep and perfect. I sink against him, and revel in the moment, this precious moment I thought I’d never get to feel again. If I could freeze time, I would suspend us right here for a hundred years, just to enjoy each and every breath. “Pretty damn perfect,” Finn murmurs, and I smile. “You read my mind.” I’m tempted to call in sick. Delilah’s probably hung over from the party, too, but she’d cover for me if I asked. The thought of spending the whole day here wrapped up in Finn is too good to resist,

and I’m about to go find my phone when I hear a ring tone inside the house. But it’s not mine. Finn gets up, and stretches. “Want more bacon while I’m in there?” “Always!” He saunters inside, still looking dangerously sexy in nothing but his jeans. I watch him go, and feel something stirring in my chest. Not just desire, but something deeper, more intense. What happens now? I push the thought back. I’m going to enjoy this moment for as long as I can, so I get up, and head inside. Finn is in the kitchen, talking on his cell phone. “So did he actually offer, or is this more bullshit from the label?” He intercepts me, pulling me into his arms without missing a beat. “Yeah, I know, but I wanted the break.” Finn kisses my cheek. “Sorry,” he whispers. “This won’t take long.” “It’s okay, I need to shower and go get ready for work.” I make to leave, but Finn keeps me locked tightly against him. His free hand slides under my robe, teasing across my bare skin. I laugh, and try to pull away. “What? No, just the radio,” Finn tells the person on the other end of the phone. He grins at me, sliding his hand up across my breast. “I turned it on without realizing.” I catch my breath, Finn’s fingers toying with my nipple. He’s playing dirty, so I reach for his jeans, and start to unbutton his fly. Now it’s his turn to try and bat my hands away, but I just smile, and close my hand around him, stroking his hard length. Finn sucks in a breath. “What?” he asks, trying to focus. “Sorry, I missed that. Tell me again?” I stroke a little harder, and Finn gives me a look. “You want me to stop?” I whisper, wide-eyed and innocent. I sink to my knees, and slowly lick along his shaft. He groans. “Call you back,” he mutters, and hangs up, tossing his phone across the room. In an instant, he’s dragged me to my feet again, backing me up hard against the kitchen island. “You little minx.” He grins, stripping my robe off. “You started it.” “Which means I get to finish, too.” Finn grabs my waist and lifts me onto the counter. I wrap my legs around him, loving the feel of his mouth on my skin. He kisses across my breasts, licking at the stiff peaks of my nipples until I’m writhing eagerly against him, wet and ready. He chuckles, the sound sending a buzz of vibration against my skin. “Someone’s in a hurry.” “I do have to get to work,” I point out breathlessly. Not because I give a damn about making it to the office in time. No, I just need him inside me, right now. “Well then,” Finn lifts his head, giving me a look that curls my stomach. “I guess we’ll just have to make it snappy.” He yanks my thighs wider, positioning himself right against me. I gasp, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer. Finn doesn’t need another invitation. He thrusts hard, embedding himself deep inside me. Yes. He fucks me again, rocking up inside with an incredible friction, the feel of his cock rubbing my most sensitive spot. I kiss him, moaning against his mouth, balanced on the edge of the countertop with nothing but his strong arms holding me in place as he pistons faster, rocking higher. “Finn,” I gasp, digging my nails into his back. “Fuck, there. Right there!” I can feel my orgasm already building, driven on by the deep, hard thrust of his cock and the way his body slams against me with every new stroke. “Don’t stop,” I pant, thrusting to meet him. “Please don’t stop!” “Since you asked so nicely.” Finn nips at my earlobe, then slides a hand between us. He finds my clit, and caresses me in time with his fast, devastating strokes. Oh fuck. I sob, muffled against his skin,

and then my climax is ripping through me, so fast and wild it makes my head spin. “Oh God, Eva,” Finn makes an animal groan, and then comes hard, panting against me. His body shudders, heartbeat racing against my chest. He gasps for air. “Fuck!” “Uh huh,” I murmur, the sweetness spreading through every limb like honey. “That sounds about right.” He holds me a moment, our pulses racing in time, then gently lifts me down and sets me on the floor. “Good morning.” He grins, brushing hair back from my face. I laugh, slowly coming back down to earth. “Now that’s a better wakeup than a second cup of coffee.” “You better go shower,” he says, sending me away with a slap on my ass. “And I’ll go make sure they didn’t trash the house before I decide to jump in there with you.” “Promises, promises.” Finn joins me in the shower after all, and it’s another hour before I roll into work, feeling flushed and exhilarated, like I’ve just run an epic marathon. But way more fun. “I hate you.” Delilah greets me as soon as I step through the doors. I stop dead. “What did I do?” “Got laid, if that grin on your face is any indication.” Delilah breaks into a delighted grin. “So come on, spill. Was it the hot vet or the sexy rock star? I’m guessing the rock star. Sawyer Green looks slow and steady, and you’ve got ‘hard fast fuck’ written all over you.” “Dee!” I go stash my purse and sit behind my desk. Delilah groans, clutching a massive coffee mug. “You’re going to take the high road? No way, that’s not fair. I’m your best friend, I deserve some salacious details.” I smirk. “What if my lips stay sealed?” “Then I’ll spike your coffee and make you talk somehow.” Delilah scoots her chair over, the wheels rattling on the carpet. “Was it good? It has to be good. You wouldn’t be walking with a limp if it wasn’t good.” “I am not!” I protest, laughing. “Shut up!” “I’ll shut up when you give me something.” Delilah studies me. “God, it must have been good. You look like you just got back from a spa weekend.” She gives a mournful sigh. “I miss glowy sex skin. My complexion is always way better when I’m getting some.” “Where are you putting it?” I crack, and she bursts out laughing before settling down again. “I get it. You’ve had your fun. I’m begging now.” I pretend to roll my eyes, but really, I’m dying to share the details. I’m so full of happiness and energy that it feels like I’m going to explode. “It was Finn,” I admit. “I knew it!” Delilah bangs the desk. “I saw you guys sneaking away from the party. Where did you go?” “Away.” I smile, remembering the secret hidden spot he showed me. Was it really just last night? I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime in just a few short hours. “And then we went back to my place.” “Smart move. The party lasted until so late.” Dee stifles a yawn. “Did you have fun?” I ask. “How’s Lottie? I need to call and arrange dinner tonight.” “Leave it another couple of hours,” Dee advises me. “I left her passed out in Kit’s playpen.” “Is she okay?” I frown. “She’ll be fine. A killer hangover, I’m guessing, but you’re only twenty once.” “I’m glad she had a good time.” I smile then pause, remembering something. “Wait, I was going

to ask your advice. Edith said the land over at the shelter might be going up for sale. Apparently, the owners want to make a deal.” The only thing that could distract Delilah from my sex life is real estate. She frowns, then clicks at her computer for a moment. “Yup, it’s right here. It’s a big plot of land,” she adds, sounding impressed. “Great location, too. The way values are rising, it could be a real bargain.” “That’s what I was afraid of,” I sigh. “There’s no way she can pay the increased rent they want, and I don’t know how far donations will stretch. We burn through too much already just on food and medical supplies.” “I’m sorry.” Dee gives me a sympathetic look. “That sucks.” “It’s not going to stop you calling the owners for the listing though, is it?” She winces. “For you, I won’t. Because that’s how much I love you.” “Yeah, yeah.” I laugh, but it’s a sweet gesture. Delilah wouldn’t turn down the chance of a commission like that for everyone. “But aren’t we getting off-track here?” Dee slurps her coffee. “You were telling me all about the epic rock star dick.” Luckily, the bell above the main door dings. I elbow Dee, and quickly turn to greet the young couple that just stepped in. “Welcome to Oak Island Realty!” I exclaim. “How can we help you find your dream home?” “Lucky save,” Dee whispers. “But don’t think I’m not getting the whole story soon!” We have a busy morning, seeing clients and organizing listings, but I still don’t come down from cloud nine. I float around the place, practically humming even as I do all the boring filing and paperwork, wrapped up in the glow of Finn’s kisses, and everything waiting back at the house for me tonight. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.” Delilah pauses thoughtfully, on her way out for an appointment. “I told you, a no strings fling was exactly what you needed.” I pause. “It’s kind of perfect,” Delilah continues, touching up her lipstick. “I mean, he’ll be back on the road soon, right? So you won’t even have to deal with all the awkward after effects. You’ll just go your separate ways. See? Closure!” She blows me a kiss, and heads out the door. “We were just talking about you!” I hear her say, and I don’t even have time to process what she just said before Finn walks in, holding a cute bunch of wildflowers. “Hey!” I exclaim, surprised. “What are you doing here?” “I figured you could use a lunch break.” Finn strolls over. “Also, it’s been way too long since I kissed you.” He tilts my chin up to meet him, finding my lips in a long, slow kiss. I melt into him, loving how solid and real he feels against my body. When finally we come up for air, I sigh with satisfaction. “And these are for you,” he presents me with the flowers. “I could get used to this wooing thing,” I laugh, accepting the bouquet. The scent is sweet, like summertime. “Thank you.” “My pleasure.” Finn looks around. “So, this is the fast-paced world of real estate.” I laugh, and reach for my bag. “Lucky for you, Marcie’s pretty relaxed about Fridays. I can take an hour, if that’s okay?” “Perfect.” Finn gives me a wicked grin. “I can keep things short and sweet.” He holds the door open for me on the way out. “Mickey’s okay?” he asks, naming a casual seafood and sandwich shack, on the outskirts of town. “Sounds good to me.”

We drive over with the windows rolled down, our fingers intertwined beside the gearshift. I breathe in the salty sea air, and try to ignore the lingering memory of Delilah’s comments. No strings… I sneak a look at Finn. We haven’t said anything about what this is to us now. I’ve been too swept up in our passion and all the emotions of the past to even think about the future, but now the idea is in the back of my mind, I can’t shake it. What happens now? I try to ignore the voice of insecurity. It’s been one night, barely twelve hours since we hurtled headlong back into each other ’s arms. There’s no rush to put on a label, or define what we are. Except… Finn was only planning on being back in town for a couple of months, and it’s been weeks already. His real life is still waiting out there, his fans eager for live shows and touring, TV spots and interviews. It doesn’t feel real to me because I’ve never seen it up close, but his kind of success doesn’t just arrive without hard work fueling every moment. I know that much. All the time he’s been back, he’s barely said a word about what’s in store for him in the months and years ahead, but I know that look he gets in his eyes when he talks about his music, and the rush of being up onstage. He loves this life, and everything he’s achieved. He can’t stay on break here forever. “Penny for them?” I feel a light tug, and realized I’m zoned out completely. Somehow, we’re already at Mickey’s, in line for the window service. I shake my head, self-conscious. “Nothing.” I squeeze Finn’s hand, then turn to place my order for one of their famous crispy chicken sandwiches. We claim our food, then settle in at one of the picnic tables overlooking the ocean, armed with sodas in plastic cups and a basket of condiments. “I know how to wine and dine a woman,” Finn jokes, through a mouthful of his sandwich. He’s got ketchup smeared on one corner of his mouth, and he devours his food like a wild beast. I grin. “You’re all charm and so debonair.” Finn takes another bite. “So how’s work?” I shrug, picking at my fries. “Fine, I guess. Like I said, Delilah is the one getting most of the deals. I stay behind the scenes.” “That’s not the Eva I remember.” Finn gives me a quizzical look. “What happened to your plans for drama school? You never really said.” I shrug, and look away. “The city didn’t suit me.” That much, at least, is true. “But I was lucky to get this gig. The hours are great, and there’s commission, too. If I ever managed to close a deal.” “But do you even like it?” Finn asks, pushing. “I mean, I’d understand if you were working the day job and going to auditions, or still pursuing acting, but this is different.” “Acting wasn’t for me,” I insist. “And this isn’t so bad. I like the flexibility,” I say, trying to find a reason. “I get to babysit Kit a lot, and spend time over at the shelter.” Finn’s mouth quirks into a grin at the mention. “How’s Edith? Still giving them hell?” “Pretty much.” I pause, thinking about her money problems. “She’s getting older, though. I’m not sure how much longer she can keep the place together.” “They’ll have to carry her out,” Finn chuckles. “When are you heading out there next? I’d love to come by and say hi.” “I was planning to drop in after work today,” I suggest. “I’ll meet you there.” Finn finishes his food, and screws up the wrappers. He tosses it for the trash can, but it misses, bouncing off the rim. “Good thing I didn’t have my heart set on sports,” he says, and I smile. “Yeah, that’s really held you back.”

I slurp the rest of my soda, not quite ready to head back to the office. It’s a gorgeous day out, summer on the horizon, and the view couldn’t be better. The view of Finn, that is. I swear, I could look at him all day long and not get tired of it, the strong line of his jaw, and how that long hair falls over his eyes. Today he seems distracted, too. He toys with his drink for a moment. “That was Kyle calling, this morning. Wanting me to get back in the studio.” “Hmm?” I try to sound casual. “I thought you were on vacation.” “I am.” Finn’s face clears. He smiles at me. “You’re right, I need the break. No work allowed.” He stands, and offers me his hand. I take it, smiling, but inside, a spark of unease flickers to life. The real world is calling. How long can we put it aside?



Eighteen. After I finish up at work, I change and head straight over to the shelter. When Finn arrives, he finds me with rubber gloves up to my elbows, cleaning out the kennels. “Sexy,” he quips, leaning in the doorway. “I love a woman in marigold yellow.” I laugh and strike a pose. “I know, there’s nothing men love more than the smell of dog poop.” “Now you really are talking dirty.” Finn approaches, and tries to kiss me, but I back away. “I’m so gross right now.” “No, you’re beautiful.” He kisses me lightly, making me glow from the inside out. “Stinky, but beautiful.” I finish up and head to the washroom next door, dousing myself in a generous helping of soap and hot water before emerging to meet him again. “So, what do you think?” I ask, feeling curiously protective of the place. I know it’s not much to look at, but this place is important to me, and I want to share it with him. “It’s changed since I was here last.” Finn sounds impressed as he looks around. “She converted the barn a few years back, and added the storage sheds,” I explain, leading him through the kennels. “We have anywhere from twenty to fifty dogs here at a time. Summer ’s the worst for strays,” I add. “Too many litters left starving, or Christmas pets the owners get tired of cleaning up after. Poor things.” “People shouldn’t sign up for a commitment they don’t understand.” Edith’s voice comes, and we turn. “Edith, hey. You remember Finn, right?” I introduce him. “It’s great to see you again. This place is amazing, you’ve done a great thing.” He shakes her hand politely, and flashes a charming smile, but Edith still regards Finn with a look of clear suspicion. “I don’t suppose you have time for a dog, off in the big city,” she says. “No ma’am. It wouldn’t be fair on them, with me traveling so much.” “No, it wouldn’t.” Edith gives him a long stare, then turns to me. “He can make himself useful, and help move the feed. Those damn delivery boys left it out again.” “I’d be happy to help,” Finn says quickly, but Edith just makes a hurumphing noise and exits the barn. “What did I do to her?” Finn asks, looking thrown. “Don’t take it personally,” I pat his arm. “I think she was rooting for the other guy.” “The other—Oh, right, the vet.” Finn looks smug. “Someone should break it to her that he’s out of the picture.” I roll my eyes. “You could just piss in a circle around me,” I suggest wryly. “It would mark your territory quicker.” “Don’t think I haven’t considered it.” Finn slides his hands around my waist and draws me near, his breath hot in my ear. “You bring out the animal in me.” My laughter fades into a gasp as his hands move lower. “Finn.” “What?” Finn kisses me, and I forget my own name for a moment, too caught up in the rush of heat and slow, sensual movement of his tongue deep in my mouth. I clutch a handful of his shirt and pull him closer, savoring every taste. I come up for air, my head spinning. How does he do this to me? One minute, I’m a sane, rational person, and then he lays his hands on me and it all flies out the window. I’m possessed with reckless need, zero to crazy-turned-on in five seconds flat. Finn takes a quick look around, then grabs my hand, tugging me back into the shadows of a storage stall. The barn used to be stables, and now there are pallets of feed and supplies stacked up

against the wooden partition. He pushes me up against them, and kisses me again. “Finn..,” I murmur, fighting a losing battle with myself. Damn, he’s sexy. I drag my mouth from his and glance to the doors. “Edith could come back--” “She’s outside.” Finn runs one hand over my breast, stroking my nipple through my thin tank top. He leans in and kisses my neck, making me tremble. “Nobody’s going to see you bent over the crates.” “Bent over?” I gasp as Finn suddenly spins me around, pushing me down over a stack of boxes. He unbuttons my jeans, then slides his hand down inside my panties, fingers finding my wet core so fast, I can barely even grip hold of something before he’s stroking, teasing at my clit. I bite back a whimper, looking to the doors again. “Or maybe she will come back,” Finn muses behind me, his voice edged with a raw amusement now. He leans in, chest against my back, and slides his free hand up my shirt, slowly caressing my peaked, aching nipples. “She might come in at any moment. She’d see us here, you spreading your legs for me. My hands, all over your body.” Oh God. I cover my mouth with one hand to muffle the moan that slips out. My skin flushes, body aching, and I know I should pull away and stop this madness, but it’s too hot for words. I turn my head, watching the door half in panic, half pure lust as Finn keeps me pinned down, his wicked magic with fingers, and hands, and that dirty gorgeous mouth of his. “But Edith’s not the only one who could see us,” he whispers, every word sending a dark rush of pleasure spiraling through me. “Anyone could walk in. They’d take one look at you and know, what a kinky, filthy girl you are now. How you’ll do anything for a taste of me. How you whimper and moan for just an inch of my cock.” I shudder, bucking against his hand now, needing more than just this tantalizing touch. I can feel him pressing hard against my ass. I reach behind me, grappling blindly to undo his belt and zipper. Finn chuckles in my ear, pinning my hands back beside my head. “Not this time, baby. This is all about you.” I start to turn, wanting to feel him, but Finn places a firm hand on my back and shoves me down again, my chest pressed harder now against the crates. “Uh uh,” he scolds me playfully. “You’re going to stay right there, on display. For anyone to see. In the spotlight, where you belong.” I shiver again. Damn, this shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. The reckless thrill of it all, his hands firmly moving my legs apart, and all the while, sunlight is bright on my skin. I can hear a radio playing in the main house, the whir of a mower in the distance. Anyone could see us. Anyone could find me spread to him. Finn’s hands stroke me, fingers dipping just inside. I’m doing my best not to moan here, not to make a sound, but damn, it’s hypnotic. The steady rhythm of his caress, pressing just right against my clit, so damn perfect I can’t even hold back. He curls two fingers up inside me and rubs again, and now I’m cresting, fuck, so close to the edge. “Now how about we make this fun?” Finn murmurs, before suddenly raising his voice and yelling. “Edith?” What the hell? I panic, trying to pull away, but Finn keeps me pinned there – stroking, thrusting, deeper. Oh fuck! “Edith?” he calls again, louder. “Can you come help us out a second?” No! I hear the mower shut off. Footsteps, coming into the barn. Blood rushes everywhere, panic flooding me to mingle with the pleasure. “Finn,” I manage, gasping, desperately trying to pull away. “Please! You can’t!” “Is that you, Eva?” Edith’s voice drifts closer. Oh God.

Oh my fucking god. The thought of her finding me like this hits just as Finn thrusts another finger inside me and rubs across my clit. I come so hard I see stars, convulsing against his hand as panic and thrilling shame and dirty, hot lust crash through my body in wave after mind-blowing wave. Finn steps back, and yanks up my jeans, fastening them quickly while I’m still gasping for air. I don’t know how, but as the footsteps reach us I manage to grab one of the boxes I’ve been pushed up against, and lift it in my arms so that when Edith arrives in the stable doorway, it looks like I’m just flushed from heavy lifting. At least, I hope to God it does. “Sorry,” Finn says brightly, looking totally innocent. “I just wanted to check where you need these pallets.” Edith looks between us. “Just out by the doors will be fine.” “We’ll get right to it.” Edith frowns. “You shouldn’t be helping if it’s too much work, Eva. You don’t want to over exert yourself.” “Mhmm,” I manage to murmur. She leaves, and my legs give way. I sink onto a pallet. “I hate you,” I curse, still reeling. I swat his arm, hard, realizing what just happened. “Oh my god, Finn, what were you thinking?” “That you’re a kinky, dangerous woman.” Finn grins, looking smug. “Admit it, you just came your brains out.” I flush, my heart racing. He’s right, it was incredible, but damn, that was close. “You can’t do that!” I wail. Finn laughs. “Yes, I can. And I will.” He leans over and kisses me, molten hot and possessive. “And fuck, you look so hot right now. I could fuck you all over this barn if I had my way.” I leap up. “Nope! We’re done with the public part of the program. From now on, it’s all about locked doors. And privacy. And white noise machines,” I add sternly. Finn gives me a seductive grin. “I can work with that.” My phone buzzes. I check the text. It’s Lottie. ‘Bring pizza tonight! I need carbs 2 soak up all the booze in my body.’ I stare at it a moment, still dazed, then I remember. “I have plans tonight,” I tell Finn, with a pang of regret. “It’s Lottie’s real birthday, so we’re having a sleepover with Kit.” “Pillow fights and painting your nails?” he teases, and I laugh. “More like cleaning finger paint from the floor.” I tuck my phone away and reach for him. “Rain check on the locked doors?” He kisses me. “You can bet on it.” I finish up at the farm, then head home. As much as I’m already craving Finn again, I’m glad I have an excuse for some time away from him, to clear my head and remember how to breathe again. He’s intoxicating. Just being with him sends me on a wilder high than I’ve ever experienced before. But I’ve learned the hard way, there’s no high in the world that doesn’t lead to a come down the next morning. Be it a killer hangover or worse, there’s always going to be a moment when the thrill fades away, leaving nothing but an empty ache in your bloodstream, and the restless need to escape all over again. So is Finn just a temporary high, or something more? I want to ask him, and figure out what we’re doing here, but I’m scared, too. Scared that he won’t have any answers either, and this blissful reunion will hit the brakes, and fast. And then he kisses me, and I don’t want anything except him.

But at least I don’t have to think about it tonight. I stop by the pizza place on my way back to town and pick up a couple of pies, then grab a few things from my place and head to Lottie’s. To my surprise, the house is quiet when I push open the front door. I stash the food in the kitchen, then head to her room. Lottie is napping on the bed, curled up with Kit sleeping soundly in her arms. I smile. She looks so young like this, but there’s no mistaking the family resemblance between them, Kit’s copper curls blending into Lottie’s choppy strands. Again, an ache echoes through me, seeing them together like this. She opens one eye, and sees me there. “Hey,” Lottie smiles, whispering. “How’s it going?” “Good.” I go sit on the bed beside her, keeping my voice down. I can’t resist taking one of Kit’s tiny balled up fists, and he curls it reflexively around my finger. “How did you get him to go down? I thought he hates afternoon naps.” “I’m praying it’s a new habit.” Lottie eases into a sitting position. “Either that, or he knew I needed the snooze.” She yawns. “Call it a birthday miracle.” She gets up, carefully placing Kit in the crib in the corner and tucking a light blanket around him. He lets out a burbling sound, and we both hold our breath, but then he stretches and continues to sleep. “I’ll pay for it later,” Lottie says ruefully, setting the baby monitor and following me downstairs. “Unless you feel like getting up five times in the night?” “I’ll do it,” I laugh. “Except he’ll be pretty disappointed when he wants to eat.” “Good point.” Lottie hops up on a kitchen stool and yawns again. “You really went hard last night, huh?” I tease. I get some plates down, and put the pizza in the oven to warm. “I’m not the only one.” Lottie gives me a look. “Dee filled me in on all your fun.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. She laughs. “I knew it! I knew something was going on with you guys.” She pauses, her smile fading. “So does this mean he finally explained what happened when he left?” I look up, surprised. “What do you know about that?” I never told Lottie about seeing Finn back then, or even how my heart broke all those years ago. I thought I’d kept my secrets hidden, but the sympathetic expression on her face says I wasn’t as careful as I thought. “I was fourteen, Eva. I wasn’t blind. You think I didn’t see you sneaking off to meet him? Half the time, I’d have to cover with mom and dad. And then, after he left, you cried yourself to sleep every night for a month. Thin walls,” she adds, apologetic. “Why didn’t you say something?” She looks away, awkward. “You were pretty secretive back then. You didn’t really open up and talk to me. I know I was just a kid to you,” she adds. “But I wanted to help.” Of course she did. But Lottie’s right – I didn’t confide in her, or anyone. Maybe it would have been easier if I had. Then I wouldn’t have felt so alone, driven to extremes to deal with the grief I could never put into words. I go and hug her. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t just you,” I explain. “I didn’t tell anyone. It felt like it just belonged to the two of us. And then, after he left, I just felt like a fool. Like everyone would laugh or feel sorry for me, for thinking it would last. I didn’t want anyone’s pity.” “You’re talking to the wrong girl about that.” Lottie snorts. “Try getting knocked up at seventeen, then you’ll know what pity feels like.” But her words aren’t bitter. That’s what always amazes me about my sister. Despite everything that’s happened, she’s always been resolute in her choices. I wish I could be so brave. We take our food and go collapse on the couch, but instead of reaching for the remote to catch up on our latest TV shows, Lottie looks over at me. She nibbles on her pizza, then finally asks, “So, did

he explain?” I nod. I don’t feel like it’s my story to tell, so I’m glad when Lottie doesn’t push for answers. “And what are you guys going to do now?” Scratch that. I’d take anything except the question I’ve been avoiding myself. I try to brush it off. “We don’t know just yet. We’re taking things as they come.” “You both are, or he is?” Damn my sister for seeing through my casual act. Lottie sighs. “Eva.” “Don’t.” I stop her. “I know, we need to talk about it, but can’t I just enjoy this for right now?” “Sure you can,” she says, sounding wise beyond her years. “But isn’t that what got you in trouble last time?” I glare. “Way to ruin my happy buzz.” Lottie laughs. “Anytime.” “Just for that, we’re watching Girls, and not your Fast and Furious marathon.” I grab the remote. “Not fair!” Lottie cries, trying to wrestle it away from me. “Birthday trump card, remember?” “How long are you going to use that?” She checks her phone. “Another six hours,” she says smugly. A familiar wail comes from upstairs. “See?” she says, getting up. “Kit agrees. Vin Diesel all the way, baby.” “You’re lucky I love you,” I call after her as she heads upstairs. We make it halfway through the third movie before she falls asleep beside me, curled up on the couch. Sure enough, his afternoon nap means Kit has no interest in sleeping now. He’s in my arms, transfixed by the explosions on-screen. Like mother, like child. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I wriggle to get it out. It’s a message from Finn. Hows the sleepover? Sleepy :) I type back. Get your rest, because you’ll need it. I grin. For what? You’ll see. Sweet dreams. Xo Xo I put my phone down, my mind already running riot back to memories of his mouth grazing over my body, his hands driving me to the brink – and beyond. It would be easier if he didn’t spark this fire in me. Easier, and way less hot. But there’s something that crackles in the air between us. There always has been. Call it chemistry, call it fate, but the end result is something so passionate and wild, it makes a mockery of any other man. I’ve spent five years searching for this feeling, and Finn is the only one who ever set my heart on fire. I know I’m young, and I can hear all the safe, explanations running through my head. But I know, deep down, he’s the one for me. This brave, wounded, infuriating man is all I want in the world, but the problem is, I know how it feels to watch him walk away. Losing him the first time sent me into a freefall, and derailed all the dreams I’d been working towards. I know it’s not his fault. Those were my choices, however foolish and immature, but the end result was the same. Heartbreak. Devastation. Now, I can’t help being scared it might happen a second time around. If I let myself love him with all my heart, and throw myself headfirst into this new connection, I have no guarantees it all won’t shatter into pieces and leave me broken again. It’s a big risk to take, especially when Finn hasn’t said anything about sticking around. Tomorrow, I decide. Tomorrow I’ll have the conversation with him, and figure out where all this is heading. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll be someplace good.



Nineteen. When Lottie, Kit, and I arrive for brunch at the harbor, Finn is already there with Dee, trading rock star gossip at a table by the water like they’ve been best friends for years. “Hey beautiful.” He gets up when he sees me, and my heart does a slow flip. He’s looking dangerously hot with his hair pulled back in a manbun, and two-day stubble on his gorgeous jaw. His eyes twinkle, aqua blue in the sun. He makes room beside him, and kisses me gently on the lips when I sit down. “Have fun last night?” I smile. “I have a newfound respect for muscle cars,” I tell him. He looks puzzled, but I’m already taking in the spread of food on the table. “You ordered!” I exclaim happily. “I know my place,” he jokes. “Never let a woman get hungry.” I grin. “You won’t like us when we’re hungry.” I grab a strip of bacon, and steal some pancakes from his plate. “Eat your own,” he protests, nudging my plate closer. “I want to try both. What’s yours is mine.” I scoop up a forkful of his strawberries. Finn smirks, “Is that how this works?” “You better believe it.” I grin back, feeling happy just to be near him again. There’s a noise. Delilah clears her throat loudly. I look up, surprised. “Hey,” she waves. “It’s me. One of the other people at this table.” “Sorry.” I flush, but she’s smiling. “God, you two are like a married couple already.” She sighs. “Way to make the rest of us feel single and alone.” “Speak for yourself,” Lottie pipes up. “I have a man in my life.” She coos at Kit, who answers by launching a spoon of baby food at her. We all laugh. “OK, so maybe my love is unrequited right now.” I hand her a stack of napkins, and Lottie wipes the mess off her face. “Thanks again for hosting the party,” she tells Finn. “I stopped by today to see if I could help with clean up, but you already had a crew in. The place was spotless.” “I’m glad you had a good time.” Finn leans back, casually draping his arm around my shoulders. “It was good to catch up with everyone. I haven’t seen some of those guys in years.” “Your set was quite the hit,” Delilah notes. “Someone already put it up online.” I give Lottie a look. “Not me!” she protests. Finn chuckles. “It’s okay, hazard of the trade.” “When are you getting back in the studio?” Lottie asks eagerly. “I can’t wait to hear some new music.” I feel Finn tense slightly beside me, or maybe that’s just his muscles rippling as he reaches to sneak some hash browns from my plate. “One of these days,” he answers casually. “The muse is a tricky thing. You can’t rush art.” “Says a man with a platinum record and money in the bank.” Delilah pops a piece of pineapple in her mouth. “I bet you weren’t so relaxed back before you had a hit.” Finn laughs. “True. Back then I hustled for anything I could get. I would beg and borrow studio time all over the place. This one producer in Nashville took pity on me,” he remembers, smiling, “He let me come in at one, two AM after all his other clients were done. I barely slept in a month, but those were the first demos I ever cut.” I watch his face, just talking about it. There’s a light shining there at the memories, something inspired. I realize that I’ve barely seen this side of him. I caught a glimpse at Lottie’s party, with the

guitar in his hands, a moment when he talks about performing, too. But this part of his life is something that exists outside of Oak Harbor, in studios and on stages I’ve never even seen. Suddenly, I feel the distance between us more than ever – those years apart, when he was off living a life I know nothing about. As if he can sense my mood shift, Finn stops, then gives a shrug. “But it’s cool being able to take my time with this next record. Kyle and the label will just have to wait a while.” He squeezes my shoulder, and gives me a private smile, but I’m not convinced he wouldn’t be right back there in the studio – if it wasn’t for me. “Anyway,” Finn changes the subject. “What have you lovely ladies got planned for the weekend?” “It’s all go here,” Lottie replies, still mopping up after Kit. “We’ve got baby music class, then a play date in the park.” “And I’m scoping some new listings,” Delilah adds. “I heard a rumor that the Petersons might be divorcing soon. That house would be amazing on my books, so I’m going to drop by and say hi to Fran.” “Dee!” I laugh at her blatant tactics. “What if she doesn’t want to sell?” “What? The kids are off in college. She won’t want to be rattling round that old place on her own.” Delilah’s eyes gleam. “I’ll find her a cute townhouse near the country club, and then it’ll be two commissions for the price of one.” “You’re too good at this.” I shake my head, admiring. She beams. “When you find what you’re supposed to do, everything makes sense.” I wish it was so easy for me. I thought acting was my passion, but I haven’t stepped foot on a stage, or picked up a play in over two years now. It makes me guilty to think how easily I stepped away from my dreams. But now isn’t the time to dwell on the past, not with Finn’s hand stroking lazy circles on my shoulder, and a bright, sunny day ahead. We finish up breakfast, and he insists on picking up the tab. Then we all pack up Kit and stroll back towards town. “What about you?” Lottie asks me, pushing the stroller. “What are you guys planning? Wait, I don’t need to ask. It’s the weekend, we know what that means.” Finn turns to me and arches an eyebrow. “What does it mean?” “You don’t know about the schedule?” Lottie and Delilah laugh. “Eva has everything set in stone.” “I’m not that bad,” I protest. “Sure you are,” Lottie teases. “First laundry, then cleaning—” “Don’t forget groceries,” Dee pitches in, looking up from her phone. “Shut up,” I flush. “You’re making me sound boring. I just like having a routine, that’s all.” “Live dangerously,” Lottie urges me. “Finn, c’mon, help us out.” “I’ll do my best.” He nudges me. “What do you say? Want to play hooky for the day?” His smile is full of mischief, and I wonder in what universe would anyone turn him down. “That depends what you’ve got in mind.” I tease. “Well, first we need to get you wet.” He murmurs, too low for the others to hear. I blink. “In the ocean,” he adds, winking. “I was thinking a beach day.” “That sounds great.” Lottie declares. “But don’t you need me to watch Kit?” I ask. She waves my concern away. “I’ve got it. You go be young, wild, and irresponsible.” “That sounds like an order,” Finn says gravely. “It is.” Lottie gives me a meaningful look. “You two should get out of town for the day. Take some time to hang out, have fun. Talk.” I give her a glare, but she’s already hugging Dee goodbye and heading out. Finn chivalrously opens his car door for me.

“Ready?” As I’ll ever be. We spend the day by the ocean, following the winding coastal route out of town until we find the stretch of calm shoreline up near Beachwood Bay. It’s still early in the season, and most people have stuck to the town beach, but Finn drives us out further, to where the golden sands are empty and the waves crash against the shore. We make ourselves a hollow in the dunes, half-hidden amongst the seagrasses, sheltered from the brisk sea breeze, and let the hours drift by, just talking and kissing and dozing together on the sand. Finn brings his guitar, and I make him play for me, his finger moving so surely over the strings in a melody he knows by heart. It’s perfect, the kind of day you want to freeze in amber just for the simple peace of those moments in his arms. The lazy path of his fingertips on my stomach, the slow, steady beating of his heart as I nestle my head against his chest. Last time I took it all for granted in that wide eyed teenage way, not realizing how rare or precious it was to connect with someone like this. Now, I won’t make the same mistake. The sun is sinking lower in the pale sky when Finn takes my hand. “Come on, let’s take a walk,” he says, tugging me to my feet. “Or we could do more sitting,” I yawn, and he laughs. “I haven’t dunked my feet in the ocean for years.” He tugs again, and we leave our things in the dunes and head, barefoot, towards the waves. The ocean is restless today, foaming in distant peaks and rushing to fill the shallow flats with tiny tributaries and streams. A wave rushes over my feet. I gasp from the cold, but I quickly get used to it, the afternoon light fading on the far horizon. Finn takes a deep breath beside me. “It’s fucking beautiful,” he says, looking out across the bay. “I forget that, sometimes, with everything else.” “No place like it,” I agree. “Is that why you came back?” Finn turns to look at me. I shrug and keep walking, the shallow waves rushing over our bare feet. “I told you, New York just didn’t work out.” “Eva.” My name is so soft on his lips it makes me ache. “I know you, and you’re no quitter. It was all you used to talk about, making it to the city, making it on Broadway, or someplace else. What happened?” Finn squeezes my hand. “I’ve been trying to figure it, but I just don’t get it.” I take a deep breath. Even though he’s confided in me and bared every part of his past, I still feel so exposed right now. It’s hard to find the words. “I messed up,” I admit finally. “I lost myself, I guess. Did you ever feel like you just disappeared, and the person living your life wasn’t you?” Finn nods, his eyes not leaving my face. “That was me in New York,” I sigh, looking out across the water. “I just… wanted to forget you. Forget everything. I went so far off course you wouldn’t have recognized me. Even I couldn’t recognize myself anymore. The partying, the other men.” I stop, getting choked up, but it’s not my stammer getting in the way of speaking. It’s shame this time. I look anxiously at Finn, but he just gives me an weary smile. “I’ve been there, honey. Believe me, I know. But that’s all behind us now. You can’t let it hold you back.” “But.” I swallow, feeling confused at how easily he’s taking the story. “You don’t even know the half of it.” “I know what I went through without you, and fuck, I’m not proud of that either.” Finn pulls me closer. “You want to talk about self destruction? I could fill a whole book with the things I did. But none of it matters now. I don’t need to know who you used to be,” he swears. “All that matters is standing in front of me, right now.”

I can’t stop the tears coming. I wish he could be right. If only I could wipe the slate clean and never have to face the past again, life would be so much simpler for the both of us. But I know, deep down, I can’t go on like this. It’s been eating away at me not sharing my whole heart, and keeping him in the dark any longer will only make it worse. “Hey,” he murmurs, wiping my tears away. “Shh, don’t cry.” But something’s split wide open inside me, and all the emotions I’ve tried so hard to contain come rushing out. For five years, I’ve kept them locked away, and I can’t do it anymore. I open my mouth, and find the strength to say the hardest words of all. “I was pregnant,” I whisper sadly, into the crashing of the waves. “When you left, I was pregnant.” A rush of pure relief flood through me. And finally, I’m not alone in this anymore.



Twenty.

Finn. Her words don’t register at first. They just drift around us on the wind. But then they hit home like a fucking bullet, each one tearing my heart open as I realize what she’s saying. “What are you talking about?” I demand, praying to God this is all some crazy mistake. A baby? Our baby? “Eva, I don’t understand.” Her face is so fragile right now. She looks seventeen all over again. “I didn’t realize,” she whispers, taking a shaking breath. “You left, and I fell apart. I was so heartbroken that I cried for days. I was so busy trying to put on a brave face for my parents and Lottie I didn’t even notice when I missed my period.” I stand there, my head spinning. What the fuck did I do? “I didn’t find out until it was too late,” Eva tells me, sounding hollow. “I was helping out at the shelter, and I got the worst cramps. So bad, I nearly passed out. Edith drove me to the medical practice in the next town. A nurse there ran some tests, and she told me. I was eight weeks pregnant, and I.” She pauses. “I was miscarrying.” I curse under my breath. I pull her into my arms, holding her tightly. I should have held her all those years ago. I should have been there. I should have been a fucking man. “I lied to Edith,” Eva says softly against me. “I told her it was just bad cramps, and went home. I spent the night in bed with a hot water bottle and painkillers until.” She pauses. “Until it was over. It wasn’t much, in the end,” she swallows. “Just like a regular period. If I hadn’t gone to the doctor, I would never even have known.” I draw back, cradling her face. Damn, I can’t bear the pain I see in her eyes, the shadows of this secret she’s been carrying alone for so long. “Why didn’t you tell me? If I’d known.” Eva shakes her head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything. You were gone. Even I didn’t know, not until it was already too late.” “But you were alone.” I clench my jaw, hating myself right now. “You should never have gone through that on your own.” “But I did.” Her voice is soft but steady. “You weren’t here, and I had no way of reaching you.” It’s a gut punch, and I deserve it. “Eva.” She shakes her head, looking stronger now. “I’m not trying to blame you. I just wanted to tell you, so there wouldn’t be any secrets between us anymore.” She wipes her tears, and I can feel her pulling away from me. I take her hand, trying to keep the connection open before her walls go up again. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t imagine what you went through,” I don’t know what the fuck to say, because no words can ever touch this. “Please, talk to me.” Eva gives me a sad smile. “There’s nothing else to say about it, not really. It was over a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.” But she’s wrong. I watch her start walking slowly back up the beach, leaving a trail of footsteps on the wet sand. It does matter. This explains everything. Why she went so far off the rails in New York, abandoning the dreams of acting she’d always worked so hard to pursue. That’s on me, too. Fuck. She was trying so damn hard to move on that she went hurtling in the wrong direction, and meanwhile I was off drinking myself into oblivion, thinking I’d done the right thing in leaving for good. I catch up with her, still searching to make sense of it all. “Is this why you came back home when

Lottie got pregnant?” I ask, something clicking into place. She gives a halting nod. “I didn’t want her to feel alone.” Alone like she’d been. I reach out and take hold of her hand, waiting for her to talk, but Eva stays silent until we reach our blanket. “We should hit the road,” she says brightly, like this whole conversation never happened. “It’s getting late, and Dee said something about meeting at Dixie’s later.” I study her, wary. I don’t want to push, so I just squeeze her hand. “But we’re okay?” I check. She nods, her eyes skittering away. “We’re fine. Like I said, it doesn’t matter anymore.” I drive Eva back to her place in uneasy silence. The mood has shifted. She’s quiet and withdrawn now beside me in the passenger seat, all our earlier laughter forgotten. Fuck, I hate myself for pushing her back there. But I couldn’t help it. I’ve been patient these last days, waiting for her to confide and share whatever ’s on her mind. I thought maybe after that night together, she’d relax and show me some of that old spark again – and she has. Alone in the dark, stripping back all her inhibitions, I’ve seen the old Eva come blazing through. Passionate and wild, a force to be reckoned with. I thought if we could just talk, if she’d let me in, then all those walls would come tumbling down. Well, I got what I wanted. She told me everything she’s been hiding, but instead of bringing us closer together, those walls are higher than ever and I don’t know how to break through. I pull up in her driveway. Eva reaches for the door handle, but I catch her other hand, tugging her back to me. “Sure you don’t want me to come in?” I ask, trying to sound casual again, like that tense scene at the beach didn’t just happen. “We could take a shower, get all that sand out.” I wink, and she softens, just a little. “I have a ton of chores to do. But I’ll see you later.” “Sure. Later.” But I’ve still got one weapon in my arsenal. I tilt her chin up and kiss her before she has a chance to leave. Just like always, Eva melts at my touch. This much is simple at least. My hands around her waist, her curves crushed against me, her lips parting to invite me in. I kiss her all out, like I used to those teenage nights in the backseat of my car, breathing heavy and hard for more. I slide one hand over the lush curve of her breast, leaning to nip at her neck and kiss that spot just below her ear that always drives her wild. Eva shivers against me. “About that shower,” I murmur, teasing her nipple through the cotton of her shirt. “I saw your fixture’s adjustable. We could have some fun with that.” Eva bites her lip. I’m close to winning her over again. I know she wants me to stay, but today, it’s not enough. “I’ll call about tonight,” she says, sliding out of my embrace and scrambling from the car. “Bye!” I watch her hurry up the front steps and slam the door behind her. Damn. I head home, but I can’t shake the memory of her expression back there on the beach, so brave and forlorn. I should have been there. Fuck, I never should have left her alone. But there’s no changing it now. I went off running from my own demons. I thought it was the best thing for both of us, and I guess I couldn’t have been more wrong. But that’s what this town does to you, boxing you in tight with your secrets and fears, until you can’t even breathe anymore. I look around at the quiet streets as I head back to the rental, and feel that furious itch under my skin. I’ve been pushing it down ever since I got back into town, all those memories I tried to cut loose and move on from. But it’s easy to put the past aside when you’re a thousand miles from the place it

happened. Up close, there are ghosts on every corner: the bars I carried my father out of when he was too drunk to stand, the woods I’d go escape to when he was looking to give me another beating again. All over this town there’s nothing but pain for me, but now I see, it’s the same for Eva. Except she stays. Fuck. Why is she sticking around after all this time? I don’t understand it. Lottie and Kit are one thing, but she’s put her whole life on hold and doesn’t even seem to realize it. What will it take to show her there’s a different life out there, if she’ll only take the chance? I make a sudden decision and wrench the wheel, U-turning right there on the street. A car behind me blares its horn angrily, but I’m already speeding back through town, towards Eva’s place. I know she wanted some space, but I can’t let her retreat back and close up all over again. I need to show here that I’m here for her now, and that whatever she’s going through, she doesn’t have to face it alone this time. I pull up in the driveway again and knock on the door. Eva opens it, smiling, but her smile fades when she sees it’s me. “Finn.” Her voice is reluctant. She looks away. “I said I’d call you later.” “I know, but I couldn’t stay away.” I stride forward. “Not with things like this.” She takes a deep breath, but I still can’t figure out the expression in her eyes. “Things are the way they are.” “Fuck that,” I curse, and her eyes widen in surprise. “Things are however we want them to be. So don’t land that bombshell on me, and then just shut me out again. We can talk about this.” “Why?” she shoots back. “It won’t change anything. What’s done is done.” “How can you say that?” I demand in disbelief. “I’m here now, Eva. I want you to let me in again. I want to be there for you, if you’ll just talk to me.” She shakes her head. “I’m sick of talking!” she exclaims, her voice rising. “All it does is make us feel guilty over things we can’t take back.” “So what do you want?” I exclaim, more confused than ever. “Tell me, Eva, and I’ll give it to you. Whatever you want, I swear.” I see her face change, the mask finally cracking. “You!” she shoots back, angry. “All I want is you.” Before I can respond, she pulls me down and kisses me hard, her eager mouth searching mine, more demanding than I’ve felt before. Hot and frantic, her body arches up against me, and her mouth begs for more. Part of me knows this isn’t the solution, that we’re just avoiding everything. But fuck, she’s hard to resist. “Baby,” I try to pull back. “Easy now.” But Eva’s eyes flash angrily. “You asked what I wanted,” she insists. “And you want it too. Don’t try to deny it.” She arches her body against me, grinding at the hard-on already raging in my jeans. My self control snaps. With a growl, I push her back through the doorway, slamming us up against the wall. But instead of breaking, Eva just wants more. She moans into my mouth, wrapping herself around me. Her mouth demands, ravenous, and dammit, I’m going to give her everything. I grab her thighs and lift, wrapping her legs around my waist so her sundress rides up and her bare flesh is hot against my hands. “Fuck me,” Eva gasps, grinding against me. “Please Finn, I need you.” Dammit. I grip her hair and yank her mouth back to mine again, kissing her with everything I have as my body crushes her up against the wall. She clings to me as I invade her mouth, probing my tongue deep and drowning in her sweetness. Those lush breasts strain against me until I have to lift her higher,

burying my face in their slopes. She whimpers as I drag my tongue across one nipple, the stiff peak leaping to attention in my mouth as I suck and nip the rosy tip. “Finn,” Eva gasps, and just my name on her lips makes me crazy. I want her hear her scream it forever, from now until the end of time. I shove her dress higher and yank my jeans down. Eva’s eyes are shut; she’s braced against the wall and breathing fast. “Look at me,” I growl, gripping her chin. “Dammit, look at me! I want to see you take my cock, every fucking inch.” Eva’s eyes finally open, wide and full of lust. “That’s right, baby,” I position myself against her, my head nudging her wet folds. I know it’s wrong, but I’m too far gone now, all my guilt and regret bound up in this desperate, hot moment. “You can’t shut me out. Not when you need me like this.” I grip her hips tightly and slam inside. Fuck. Eva cries out, arching to meet me. She grinds down on my cock, and I can’t stop from pistoning into her again, burying myself as deep as I can. Blood pounds in my ears, and I know I should go slow, but God, the sweet, tight feel of her clenching around me is driving me crazy, so damn good. I take a ragged breath, bracing myself against her, but Eva just writhes impatiently. “Harder,” she demands, breathless in my ear. “Fuck me harder.” With a groan, I slam into her again, watching her face change, her eyes roll back as I plunge so fucking deep I never want to let go. Eva’s panting now, and I thrust with all my strength, like the surge of my cock can shatter her last defenses and finally let me into that heart I need so badly. “I’m here, baby,” I vow, pumping fast. “I’ve got you now.” Eva digs her nails into my back and bites down on my lower lip. She’s a wildcat, grasping desperately for some release, and fuck, I need it too. “This is what you wanted?” I demand, slamming into her again so hard her whole body shudders. Eva moans. “Yes!” “You’re close now, aren’t you, baby?” I feel her body tense and shiver. “You’re right there on the edge.” “Please, Finn.” Her lips part, her eyes fluttering closed. “Oh God, don’t stop.” But I do. With super human strength, I bury myself inside her then stop, holding still. Eva cries out in frustration, desperately grinding to get the pressure again, but I pin her back, wrists to the wall, and force her to look at me. “No,” I growl. “You wanted this, but you’ll get it on my terms, baby. However I want.” Eva gasps for air. Her face is flushed, and she’s pissed now, I can tell. “Fuck me,” she glares. “No.” I smile, feeling power surge through me again. “See, I want to make one thing clear,” I tell her, still holding tight, feeling her body relax again, pulled back from the edge. “I’ll do anything for you, baby. Anything you want. I will love you until the end of the fucking world, but you don’t get to shut me out again. When I take you, I take all of you. Every last piece of you, body and soul.” Slowly, I thrust deeper. Her jaw drops. A moan escapes those lips so wet and perfect, I have to lick them clean. She shudders. “So what’s it going to be, sweetheart?” I ask, gently stroking her cheek. She can’t look away now, can’t escape me. I’m inside her, all around her, and I won’t back down from this fight. “All or nothing. That’s the only way.” Eva’s eyes fill with tears. “I can’t,” she whispers. “You can,” I tell her. “You can do anything you want. All you have to do is say the word.”

I swear my heart stops, waiting for her answer. Eva is torn, still clinging to that safety net, her quiet contained little world. She’s close to giving it all to me. She just needs a little push. I angle my hips and surge up inside her, so deep my cock is rubbing up against her sweetest spot. Right there. Fuck. That’s the place. “Say it,” I demand through gritted teeth. “Say you won’t push me away again, that we’re in this together this time.” She sobs against me, undone with pleasure, and fuck, I can’t hold back for long. “Damn it, Eva. Say you’re mine!” “Finn!” she cries, throwing her head back. I surge up inside her again, and then her orgasm takes her over, too fast for me to hold her back this time. She comes hard against me, convulsing with a cry, and the feel of her coming apart is too much for me too. I explode into her with a ragged howl, pleasure slamming through my body hard enough to level a city block. And as I clutch her, reeling from the release, I hear her whisper, the sweetest words of all. “I’m yours, Finn. I love you. I’ve always been yours.”



Twenty-One.

Eva I wake early, the sun barely rising outside the windows. It takes me a moment to realize that I’m curled in bed, with Finn’s arm slung possessively around me, and his body spooning against my back. I dreamed about him again last night. We were down by the riverbank, where I met him that first afternoon. In the dream, I was so glad to see him. I sat there beside him, and we barely said a word, just watched the water ripple and the ducks drift by, but I felt an ache so bittersweet and strong that the echo of it is still behind my ribcage now. That was the part that hurt the most, all these years without him. Not memories of wild passion, or hot surging desire, but the simple peace of being near him, a harbor in the storm. I never took that connection for granted, but it wasn’t until I lost it that I discovered how rare it was to connect with somebody so completely that I always knew he would understand. Now it hits me all over again, but with the sweetness, not pain. This sense of safety I find in his arms, where I can be myself without hesitations or fear. Two hearts that somehow find a way to beat together, two minds to make the rest of the world fade away. For a moment, I just lie here and close my eyes against the morning light, feeling the joy of him with me again. Back in his arms, where I belong. I carefully twist to face him. Asleep, his face is peaceful, his hair tangled over my pillows. He looks almost angelic, a far cry from the sexy, dominating man last night who held my pleasure to ransom until I admitted what I’ve been hiding from all this time. I love him. The words shiver through me, full of possibility and power. I shouldn’t feel anxious. I’ve loved him before, but it’s different this time. It’s one thing to love with an untouched, eager heart, but to find that same love when you’ve been broken and pieced back together? That’s the love that is more powerful than anything. So strong and deep, it scares me. My whole heart in his hands. Finn stirs, and I can’t stop myself reaching out to trace the line of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips. He smiles against my hand, but doesn’t wake. Now he knows the truth. I take a breath, waiting for the familiar rush of guilt and shame that always echoes from the past, but it doesn’t come. Instead, I just feel relief, sweet and weightless. He knows the truth now, and he didn’t turn away. I feel a lump in my throat just remembering. Yesterday, I shut down and tried to keep it all inside, but Finn didn’t let me – he knew what I really needed, and refused to let me keep pushing him away, no matter how hard I tried. We’re in this together now. Could it be true? After everything that’s happened, is there a chance for us to start again? Not just a fling, or this physical connection, but something real. The love and security I’ve been craving ever since I lost him before. We’ve both bared our hearts now, admitted our darkest secrets and painful, bitter truths, so what do we do with this second chance? Finn’s arms tighten around me. He mumbles something under his breath, and I lay back down beside him, snuggling closer into the warmth of his embrace. I listen to his breathing, and feel that

happiness take flight in my chest. We’ll figure out the answers together. All that matters is he’s home. When I wake again, the sun is stronger through the windows, and I can smell breakfast wafting from downstairs. I tug on a robe, and go down. “I could get used to this,” I smile as I reach the kitchen – but the room is empty, just bacon warming under the grill and two plates waiting on the counter. “But I thought he was a recluse these days.” I hear Finn’s voice, talking on the phone on the back porch, so I pour myself a cup from the fresh pot of coffee and wander out. He’s pacing back and forth, shirtless in his jeans, hair wet from the shower. “Uh huh, yeah, I know!” Whoever ’s on the line, it’s good news. He’s animated, his whole face lit up as he talks. “You think he can fit me in?” he asks, then catches sight of me. He grins, and crosses the porch, sweeping me into his arms and kissing me until my head spins. “Morning, beautiful.” He smiles, so handsome, I’m melting already. There’s a noise from the phone, and he laughs, lifting it to his ear again. “Not you, Kyle.” Finn covers the handset this time. “There’s food waiting,” he winks. “I’ll be right in.” “Take your time,” I smile, and head back up to take a shower. I luxuriate under the hot water, massaging my aching limbs. Man, it was hot last night, fucking up against the wall like that. Finn still knows all the right moves, and the filthy words that send me soaring higher each and every time. And we’ve barely even gotten started. A massive grin spreads across my face, and doesn’t shift. I dry off and dress in cut-offs and a tank top, then skip downstairs again, hungry this time. Finn is still talking, so I finish making breakfast for the two of us, my famous soft scramble eggs, with plenty of cream and fresh chives. I set two places at the table in the kitchen nook, and look around. The Petersons aren’t due back for another month or two, but for the first time in a long while, I find myself wishing I had a place that was just my own. My choice of paint on the walls, my own furniture around. Maybe it’s time to stop house sitting and finally take Delilah up on her offer to look for a rental of my own. Somewhere with privacy, and room for two. I dig into my food, and soon Finn comes to join me. “Sorry about that,” he says, leaning to kiss me again. “Kyle doesn’t know the meaning of ‘short and sweet’.” “Good news?” I ask, as he starts wolfing down his food. “The best,” Finn grins. “Taylor Jennings has agreed to produce my next album.” I recognize that name. “He’s that country rock guy, right?” “He’s a legend,” Finn says reverently. “He’s produced some of my all time favorite records. I have all his albums, even the limited edition live vinyl I had to hunt down online. He doesn’t even take on new artists anymore, but Kyle must have sold an organ or something, because he wants to meet.” “That’s great!” I exclaim, loving the passion in his eyes. Finn is all smiles. “He’s a hermit these days, but if I get my ass to Nashville by the end of the week, he’ll find the studio time.” I stop. “This week?” Finn nods, crunching on some bacon. “It wouldn’t be long, three, four weeks maybe to write and lay down the demos, and then to LA mix the record. It’s kind of a relief,” he smiles. “I’ve been itching to pick up my guitar again. I have a ton of ideas for new songs.” His words barely register. I’m still stuck on the part where he’ll be gone. “You’re leaving,” I say slowly. Resignation sinks through me like a stone. “Again.” Finn looks up, startled. “What? No, Eva, it’s not like that.” “Then how is it?” I ask. My skin flushes hot, all those memories suddenly crashing over me. His

absence, and the space he left beside me in my bed at night. “It’s my career, it’s my real life.” Finn frowns. “I came back here to see you, but I can’t stay forever.” “So what about us?” I ask, blinking back the tears. His face clears, and he reaches for me. “You thought… Fuck, Eva, no.” Finn grips my hand tightly. “This, you and me, it’s just the beginning. I want you to come with me.” “To Nashville?” I ask, stunned. “To wherever.” Finn smiles at me, linking his fingers through mine. “I know I’ve bounced around these past years, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Most musicians have a base between tours, so you pick a place, and that’s where we’ll be. We could go to New York,” he suggests, excited. “You could go back to drama school if you wanted. Or LA. They have a ton of acting opportunities there—” “Wait,” I cut him off, dizzy with the rush of ideas. “We don’t have to go anywhere. You can have your home base right here.” My mood lifts, and I smile, relieved. “You can go record, and do shows, and then come right back home to me.” Finn’s smile fades. “I can’t do that, Eva.” “Why not?” He pushes his seat back slowly and gets up from the table. “This isn’t my home. It never has been.” I watch, confused, as he clears our plates. What is he talking about? “Don’t you want to be with me?” I ask, my voice shaking. “Of course I do!” Finn turns back to me. “You’re the reason I came back. All I want is for us to build a life together, the way we should have from the start!” “So why can’t we do that here?” I ask again. He clenches his jaw. “You don’t understand. This town holds nothing but bad memories for me. Every street I walk down, every corner I turn, I see my dad there, okay? I can’t stay here, not without all those shitty, painful reminders of everything that happened in the past!” I stare at him in shock. “You never said anything.” “I didn’t think I had to!” Finn looks at me plaintively. “Didn’t you realize? You’re the only thing that could have brought me back here. If it wasn’t for you, I would never have stepped foot across county lines, let alone stuck around all this time.” I take a breath, trying to focus. “But this is my home, Finn. I can’t just leave!” “Why not?” he shoots back. “You went once before. What’s holding you back? You can do anything, absolutely anything you want with your life, but you’re hiding out here.” “I’m not hiding,” I say stubbornly, and he gives a short laugh. “Then tell me what it is, because I sure as hell haven’t figured it out. Maybe things didn’t work out in New York, but that doesn’t mean you should quit on all your dreams. What comes next for you, Eva? Aside from us. Forget about me for a moment, and tell me what’s ahead for you.” I shake my head, feeling defensive now. Since when was this a career interview? “I don’t know.” “Tell me you have a plan. Tell me you have a dream, at least,” he begs me. “That you’re not just going to stay here, working in that office—” “It’s a good job,” I protest. “It’s a waste of your talent, and everything you worked for.” Finn says fiercely, and I blink in surprise. There’s a look on his face now I don’t recognize, something determined and raw. “You know how I made it?” he demands. “You told us,” I answer, halting. “The showcases, and Kyle, and—” “I’m not talking about the bullshit answers in Rolling Stone,” Finn cuts me off. “I mean the thing driving me, what made me get up in the morning and fight another day to be better. A better musician, a better fucking man. It was you, Eva. It was always you. You had this ambition, and God I loved you

for that. Even after everything, I wanted to make you proud of me.” “And I am!” “I learned that fight from you, Eva. So where’s your fight now?” I shake my head. “It’s complicated,” I mutter. “I don’t have a gift like you do. Even at drama school, there were a hundred people better than me—” “So you just walked away without even trying?” Finn interrupts. “I guess I was wrong about you not being a quitter.” My anger flares. “It was kind of hard focusing on classwork and auditions when it feels like your heart just got ripped out of your chest!” There’s silence. Finn looks like I just slapped him, but then he slowly shakes his head. “No.” His voice is calm. “You don’t get to blame me for this. I’m sorry I hurt you. Fuck, I’ve been sorry for every minute of every day, but we can’t go back to that forever. You’re twenty-two, Eva. You’ve got your entire life ahead of you to do incredible things – for us to do them together - and instead you’re letting it all pass you by.” He comes over and takes my hands, looking into my eyes with passion and tenderness. “This can be our fresh start, baby. Away from all these bad memories and the mistakes that dragged us down. You and me, for real this time.” “But I can’t just leave,” I insist again, feeling a tight panic in my chest. “Lottie needs me, and Edith at the shelter—” “Lottie is just fine!” Finn is fighting to keep his voice under control. “Edith has been running that place in her sleep for years. I get that you’re scared. I’m scared, too. But you can’t hide from your future forever here, unless.” He stops, and looks down at my hands in his. “Unless you don’t want that future with me.” I gulp. “That’s not true.” “Isn’t it?” Finn steps back, and gives me a ghost of a smile. “God, all this time I was so focused on winning you back, I didn’t even stop to think if you loved me too.” “I do,” I swear. “Finn, I love you more than anything.” “But not more than this town.” “Why do I have to choose?” I exclaim, suddenly furious. Everything’s spinning out of control, and all I want is solid ground again, when I woke up in his arms and felt so safe and loved. “I don’t know,” Finn says sadly. “But I can’t stay here. I have a million reasons why I have to leave.” “And only one for you to stay,” I finish bitterly. “Now who’s the one who doesn’t want a future enough?” “That’s not fair.” Finn looks so broken, I wish I could take it back. “We’ll make new memories,” I try, taking his hands again. “We can make it better this time.” He shakes his head. “No. Eva. I mean it. I could never be happy here. I could never forget the things he did. I’ve moved on with my life, but you don’t have any reason not to. What are you so scared of?” he demands. “Why won’t you just give your life another chance?” We stand there a moment, not moving. I feel trapped, pulled in two different directions. My heart aches to be with him, but every time I try to picture that future he wants to build, I’m gripped with fear. Last time around, he broke my heart so thoroughly I thought I’d never pick up the pieces and feel it beat again. Now, I look ahead and I wonder: is that heartbreak waiting for me all over again? Here, I have a safety net. When everything falls to pieces, I know how to pick myself up off the ground and carry on. But out there, in some new city where nobody knows my name… I could fail all over again, and have nothing left in the end. “So what happens now?” I ask, fearful.

He tilts my face up and kisses me in answer, slow and sweet, the kind of kiss I could lose myself in for hours. It warms me to my bones and makes me believe again that everything’s going to be okay. Then Finn steps back. “I’m going to Nashville,” he says slowly. My heart stops. “You need time to think, and figure out what you want,” he continues. “Just say the word, and I’ll book you a ticket. I’ll buy the whole damn plane. But it has to be what you want.” His blue eyes search mine, like he’s looking for answers. “You have to decide what this is going to be.” My heart twists. He’s leaving. “I love you,” Finn says clearly. “I want a future for us. But I can’t do it here, living in the past.” “Don’t go,” I whisper, and he clenches his jaw. “I’m not leaving you, Eva. You’re the one who’s choosing to stay.” He walks slowly down the hallway and takes his jacket from by the door. I’m frozen in place, watching him go all over again. Finn pauses, turning back to me. “I’ll call you when I land,” he promises. “Remember, just say the word, and I’ll be there. I love you.” “I love you, too,” I whisper. I could stop him. I could say anything at all. I could have the love I’ve been hoping for all these years. So why am I watching the door close behind him, and Finn McKay leave my life all over again?



Twenty-Two.

FINN. Nashville is a music town through and through. From the bars on every corner, blasting country and rock ‘n’ roll until closing, to the open-mic nights at the local coffee shops, full of wide eyed hopefuls all looking to get their break, this city breathes, sweats, and bleeds music from every pore. I should be in heaven here, but all I can think about is a small harbor town hundreds of miles away, filled with dark memories and the only bright thing in the world. Eva. It’s been a week since I left, and every day is damn torture. I thought leaving her before was bad, but at least then I could tell myself I was doing the right thing. Now I don’t even have those noble thoughts to keep me warm at night. She’s not picking up when I call, or returning my rambling voicemail messages. I swore to myself I’d give her time to make this decision alone. Now I wonder if that was the biggest mistake of all. With every passing hour, I wonder what she’s doing there, if she’s missing me at all. And if she’ll ever find the strength to break free from her past and pick a new future with me. Did I push her too far, too fast? Did I wreck our second chance at love before it had even had a chance to begin? There’s a sharp whistle from behind me. I turn, and find our sound guy, Eddie, waving me back inside. “Break’s over,” he calls, grinning. “What do you think this place is, a country club?” “More like boot camp,” I snort, heading back over to the studio. It’s a low, boxy structure built at the back of Jennings’ sprawling farm, but in contrast to the rickety main houses this place is the ultimate in audio heaven. No hi-tech machines or auto tunes in sight, just the best old school equipment to make a melody sing – and the man himself at the control panel, cracking the damn whip from dawn until dusk. “Don’t tell me you’re slacking,” Jennings grumbles as I step back into the studio and grab my guitar. Even in the heat, he’s wearing a shirt and cowboy boots, his long grey hair falling around a weathered, world-weary face. “In my day, we didn’t break for days. I’d piss right there in a bucket in the corner so we wouldn’t interrupt the take.” Eddie rolls his eyes behind Jennings’ back. The old guy is full of stories like this, about the glory days when real men fought and fucked and made music – usually all on the same epic night. “Just pacing myself,” I answer easily. “You want to pick up that last take again?” “If you can get it right this time,” Jennings snorts, so I go back into the sound booth and take a seat, strumming a few chords on my guitar to get back into the right frame of mind. Jennings’ voice comes through the speaker. “Whenever you’re ready. And try not to fuck it up this time.” “Thanks for the pep talk, coach.” Eddie gives me a thumbs-up, then counts in the track. We laid the instrumental earlier this morning, and it went great. I’ve had this melody rattling around in my mind for weeks, something haunting and simple, with lyrics to match. But every time I try to get the vocals on tape, there’s something missing, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what. ‘You were my sweet salvation; you were my ruin.’ “Cut!” Jennings bellows through the speaker. “Do it again!” I take a breath, and wait for the cue. This time, I barely make it through the first verse before

Jennings yells cut again. I lower my guitar, angry this time. All morning, I’ve sung the same damn verses over and over, and all morning, Jennings has made us rip up the take and start from scratch. “What was wrong this time?” I demand, when Jennings opens the door to the booth. Eddie shrugs. “Don’t look at me, man. I thought it sounded great.” “’Great’ is a fucking pop song on top forty radio!” Jennings bellows, slamming his headphones down. “’Great’ is Madison Square Gardens on a Friday night.” “And?” I ask, confused. “Isn’t that what we want?” “No,” Jennings growls. “What we do here has to be better than that! This isn’t just a song you’re singing; this has to be a promise, a plea, a fucking death bed confession. We need to hear you slit your wrists and bleed into that microphone, leave every last piece of your goddam soul out on the floor for everyone to see. You understand me? That’s real greatness, right there, the kind of greatness that lasts a fucking lifetime, and you, son, are nowhere near close. So tell me again, what the fuck does any of this even mean to you?” “Everything!” I throw down my guitar, sick of him questioning my every move. I’ve been beating my head against a wall all week for him, when I should be six hundred miles away. “Everything?” Jennings echoes. I pause, Eva’s face flashing in my mind. “That’s it.” Jennings sees my hesitation. “That’s what’s fucking with you. You have to give everything to the song, every last breath. And right now, you’re holding back.” “I’m trying to concentrate!” I explode. “I’ve been blocking it out to focus all week.” “Whatever it is you’ve been keeping outside these doors, we need it in the studio. All of it.” Jennings insists. “So you better bring it right now, or else this will be nothing but a massive waste of all our time.” He storms back out to the soundboard, leaving me to slam my hand against the wall in frustration. Fuck. All week, she’s the only thing I can think about, and the guilt and indecision over giving her space is sneaking back in, no matter how hard I try to shut it out. So maybe Jennings is right. Maybe I need to stop fighting and leave it all on the table, right here in the studio. “Ready?” The voice comes. I nod, and pick up my guitar. Every minute I spend away from Eva better damn sure be worth something. I owe her that much, at least. The music comes, and I start to play. “Next round’s on you!” After we finish up at the studio, I head to get beers with Eddie. We set up shop in the corner of a dive place on Division, where the draught is cold and there’s always a group of music row veterans hanging out, trading war stories and news from the scene. “You should’ve heard this guy,” Eddie is raving. “Even Jennings gave us a break. Just nodded, and said, ‘next’, like he hadn’t just killed it. I’m telling you, that’s a number one right there.” I shrug, uneasy with the praise. “We’ll see.” I take another gulp of beer. “I’m just glad we got to move on. I thought I’d be running those takes until I hit forty.” “You got off easy,” one of the other guys laughs, a grizzled old bass player named Jordy. “He had that guy, what’s his name, Dex, in there for three days on a single song. Thought the two of them would come to blows.” “Oh, they did.” Eddie grins. “Out back in the parking lot. Jennings said something about his wife, and Dex knocked him for six.”

“What happened?” “They scuffled down in the dirt, then picked themselves up and went back to work.” I get up, restless. “Another round?” “Sure!” I head to the bar. Any other time, I’d love soaking up these stories, just kicking back with guys who know what it’s like out there. But I’m restless, and I can’t relax. Not with Eva still out there, weighing if she wants a future with me or not. I duck out the fire escape into the alleyway and pull out my phone. I don’t need to even dial the number I know by heart. It’s the only one I use anymore. One ring. Two. I wonder if tonight will finally be the night she answers my call. C’mon, Eva. Don’t shut me out. Pick up. Pick up. Hi, this is Eva, I can’t get to the phone right now. I swallow back my curse as the beep kicks in. “Hey baby,” I sigh, leaning back against the wall. “How’s it going? I miss you,” I say softly. “But you knew that already.” I pause, still hoping she’ll pick up, but there’s nothing but silence on the line. “So, today we had a break-though, I think,” I continue. “You know how Jennings has been riding me all week? Well, he finally gave me a break.” I fill her in on everything that happened, same as every night when I call. I like to think of her listening, out there on her balcony maybe, or the back porch, her feet kicked up on the railings, wearing that silky robe that always drives me crazy. How much longer will she take to see what’s staring me right in the face? We belong together; we have done from the start. But she’s so paralyzed by the mistakes she’d made, she won’t move on and take a chance on a new beginning. What if she doesn’t love me enough to move on? The doubts rise, full of darkness, but I push them back. No, it’s not true. When she’s in my arms, and our bodies are moving together, everything makes sense. But the minute the real world starts turning again, I can see all her questions and insecurities flare in those beautiful eyes. I know I broke her heart, but damnit, I’m trying to fix the mistakes I made. I want to wipe the past away and make her feel safe again, but I don’t know what else to do. I’ve told her I love her, promised to build a future, and still she won’t move on. Perhaps she never will. I head back inside to get the drinks. Eddie’s at the bar already, turning on the charm for a group of coeds poured into cutoffs and belly-skimming shirts. “Here’s the man himself,” he says, greeting me with a wink. “I went and found you some fans.” My heart sinks. Fawning girls are the last thing I need right now, but I don’t want to be a jackass, so I force a polite smile. “Hey.” “Oh my God, I love your music so much!” One of them slides in close to me, wrapping her hands around my arm. “Can we get a selfie?” Before I can object, she lifts her camera and snaps a shot, kissing my cheek as the flash bursts. “I went to, like, five of your shows last year,” she continues breathlessly. “My friends say I’m a total groupie.” She giggles, and Eddie smirks over her head. Eddie winks. “Thank me later,” he murmurs, before disappearing back to our group with her friends in tow. “So what are you working on now?” she asks eagerly, still pressed up against me. She’s blond and cute, and definitely willing. Any red-blooded man in here would kill to be in my shoes, but I barely notice her. Everything I want in the world is bound up in Eva, and nobody else could even come close.

I detach her hands and step back. “I better get back to it,” I tell her blandly. “Thanks for the support.” Her face falls. “Do you want my number? We could get a drink sometime—” “No thanks,” I interrupt, then quickly turn and leave, pushing through the crowd until I hit the street and can breathe again. Damn it, what the hell am I doing here? I pace the dark sidewalk, heading back to my hotel. The city is bright and vibrant, busy with weekend party crowds, but every burst of laughter or smiling couple I pass makes me feel more alone. Half my heart is right back there in Oak Harbor, and for whatever reason, she can’t bring herself to leave. Which means I have to. By the time I reach my hotel, I know, there’s no other way. No matter how much that town spells nothing but pain for me, if it’s the only way to be with Eva, then fuck. I’ll take it. I’ll take the bitter memories and ghosts of the past, and all the things I’ve been running from these past five years. I’ll take it all in a heartbeat for her. I swipe my keycard in the door and go straight to the closet, pulling my case down and throwing shit in without even looking. I can fly back tonight, camp out at the airport until I get a seat, or hell, rent a car and drive straight through. I’ll be back in her arms by morning either way, and I’ll never leave her again. Kyle will freak out, Jennings will blacklist me for good. Fuck, the whole album might be scrapped now, but I don’t care. I’ll give it all up to be with her again. It’s no choice at all. Five years ago, I left that girl behind. It may have been for all the right reasons, but that doesn’t undo the damage and hurt I caused. I won’t be the reason for her heartbreak again. I zip the bag shut and head for the door, but just as I’m grabbing my jacket, I hear something. A rattle on the window, like gravel. I pause, then go to look. I haul the glass open just as another rock comes flying up and I have to duck out of the way to stop it hitting me in the face. “Hey!” I yell down, angry. “What the fuck?” “Sorry!” Her voice drifts up to me, and I can’t believe my eyes. It’s Eva, down in the alleyway behind the hotel. Lit up by a streetlight with a handful of rocks, and a case at her feet. More beautiful than ever. Older and wiser, brave and broken, and still all I want in the world. My heart stops. She came.



Twenty-Three.

Eva Standing in the alleyway, surrounded by garbage and dirt, I wonder for a moment if I’ve made a terrible mistake. It was meant to be a symbol, like the New Year ’s Eve he showed up at my window and this all began. But now I’m struck with a terrible fear that I’m too late. I let him go, I couldn’t find the strength to start over. Now, what if he’s reconsidered our future after all? Then Finn smiles down at me, that heart-stopping smile, and I know, everything’s going to be okay. “What the hell are you doing?” he calls down, laughing. “Are you trying to get yourself arrested?” “It’s an option, yes.” I grin back. There may be seven stories and a wall between us, but still, just being this close to him again makes my heart beat faster. “I had a whole plan. It’s supposed to be a romantic gesture, like—” “New Year ’s,” he finishes for me. It feels like a lifetime ago, and yesterday, all at once. I was brand new back then, my heart open and untouched, filled with a desire for him that set the world ablaze. Now, staring up at him, I feel it all over again, stronger than ever. Our love isn’t untested. It’s seen loss and struggle and redemption, but even after all the pain, there’s still a fire burning. And I know now, it won’t ever go out. Like a phoenix from the ashes of the past, we can start over again. Take every good thing, the love that binds us together, and leave the rest behind. “Don’t move!” Finn orders me, and disappears from the window. But I can’t wait another second to be with him, so I race inside through the back exit and into the stairwell. My footsteps echo on the concrete as I hurry up, desperate to close the distance between us once and for all. I’ve been frozen in place for too long, scared to move on and risk my heart again. I’ve been searching for something I can rely on and a guarantee he won’t leave me hurting again. But there are no guarantees in love, only a leap of faith. Sometimes the answer is waiting. You just have to choose. This man. This moment. Forever. I was in limbo back in Oak Harbor. He was offering me everything, and all I could do was see the future pain if it didn’t work out. I drove Lottie and Dee crazy with my indecision, but it didn’t take me long to realize the truth. Being without him even one week was an eternity. I never want to be apart from him again. Finn meets me halfway down. He doesn’t even pause for breath, just pushes me up against the wall, kissing me hard and reckless like it’s the very first time - the first time I knew the life-changing power of desire, and the freedom I could find in his embrace. I melt against him, my hands in his hair, my body pressed and yearning against his hard, muscular frame. He claims my mouth, parting my lips and sliding his tongue deep to taste me, demanding more. God, I’ve missed him so much. Nothing in the entire universe is as perfect as this, right here. His touch. His body. His broken, beautiful soul. “What took you so long?” he demands hoarsely when we finally come up for air. He cradles my face in his hands, those blue eyes blazing with passion. “I’ve been going crazy here without you, baby. I thought you didn’t want me after all.” I shake my head, feeling close to tears. “I’m sorry. I was scared of getting hurt again. I love you so much, I don’t think I could take it if—”

“You won’t.” Finn cuts me off. He kisses me again, deep and fervent. “I’m not going anywhere, I swear. It’s you and me forever now.” His words sink through me, so sweet I could cry. “Promise?” I hold him tightly. “On my life,” Finn vows, and I know that this is it. For real. Forever. “I’ll move back to Oak Harbor, whatever you want,” he continues, and I stare in shock. “No!” I stop him, amazed he would even offer. “Finn, no. You were right. I’ve been in limbo there, hiding from everything. I want to start again, somewhere with you.” “Are you sure?” he checks, his eyes searching mine. “Because I’ll be wherever you are. You don’t have to choose—” “I do,” I say, meaning it with every beat of my heart. “I choose you, Finn. A hundred times over, it’ll always be you.” He kisses me again, and this time there’s no holding back. Our hearts are beating right here together, bruised and broken, but still holding on for another shot at the love we let slip away. I kiss him to make up for all the time we lost, the years I spent hating him, blaming him, until I learned the truth. That this man has loved me better than I could imagine. Putting me first, every time. We slam back against the wall, passion unleashed. My hands are everywhere, grabbing at his shirt and sliding it over his head to find his hot, bare skin beneath. Finn lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist and crushing me against the concrete with every gorgeous inch of his body. I buck against the hardness in his jeans. I don’t care that anyone could open that door and find us here. I just need him more than anything. more than water, more than air. “Eva,” Finn groans, ragged. He kisses my neck hungrily, running his hands over my breasts until I’m moaning for more. “My room… upstairs…” But we don’t make it that far. I fumble with his belt buckle, and Finn pushes up my skirt. His mouth is hot and hungry on mine, tongue searching, probing as he pushes my panties aside. I’m so wet, so ready for him, I beg him in a wordless plea. Finn braces himself against the wall, and then his cock finally sinks into me, all the way to the hilt. I bite down on his shoulder to muffle my moans of pleasure. God, yes. I want to savor the feel of him and take our time, but this restless hunger in me is clawing too deep to slow now. I arch against him, needing the impact of his thrusts, and fuck, Finn obliges. He slams into me, hard and deep, so deep, pinning me in place and making my body hum with wild sensation. I’m sobbing into him now, out of control, as over and again, he thrusts into me. Filling me up, claiming what’s his. Already my climax is rearing up in a rush. I can’t hold back, can’t do anything but hold on for dear life and let the ecstasy take me over. I come apart with a cry, falling into his kiss as Finn carries me through the storm of pleasure. I feel him brace, the shudder of his release, and then we’re left panting together in the stairwell, joined in every way that counts. He opens his eyes, and brushes my hair back from my sweaty cheek. “Hey,” he whispers. I smile. “Hey yourself.” He sets me down on the ground gently, but I still keep hold of him, trying to remember how to walk again. “Well that was…something,” I manage, still reeling from the force of my orgasm. “Get used to it, baby.” Finn drops a kiss on my forehead and holds me, so close I can feel his heartbeat still racing in his chest. “There’s plenty more where that came from. I haven’t even started loving you yet.”



Twenty-Four. Two weeks later, the rough cut of Finn’s album is wrapped and we’re back in Oak Harbor, packing up all my earthly possessions. Not just the housesitting gig, but everything at home too, crammed into boxes for the long drive north. “New York!” Lottie bounces with excitement, and Kit coos in agreement in her arms. “Are you excited? I’m excited. This is going to be so awesome!” “Calm down,” I laugh. “We’re not even there yet.” “I know, but it’s perfect.” Lottie sighs happily. “Finn finishing up the record, you going back to drama school. You’re going to have the best time.” “That’s the plan.” I throw another stack of books into a box, then pause. My old room here is looking even emptier now, and I give Lottie a worried look. “Are you sure you guys are going to be okay on your own? Mom and Dad are closer in Savannah, I know, but it won’t be the same.” “Relax!” Lottie rolls her eyes. “I’m a big girl now. Me and this little dude will get along fine without you. Not that we won’t miss the babysitting,” she adds. “Is that all I’m good for?” I tease, and she grins. “Okay, okay, we’ll miss the Friday night pizza, too.” I smile and look around. I feel a fizz of excitement in my stomach just thinking about the adventure ahead. Finn and I went over a dozen places we could call home, but something inside of me kept pulling back to New York. Last time around, I barely got started discovering everything the city had to offer, or what I could achieve following my dreams. Part of me is nervous, going back to face all the mistakes I made, but another, stronger part of me knows it’s the right choice. Things are different now. I’m different. And I won’t be alone this time. On cue, Finn saunters in, bearing more packing tape and boxes. “Just how many books do you have, woman?” he mock-scolds me, taking in the stacks. “You can never have too many books,” I say, passing him another half full crate. “And you’re the one who said to bring everything!” I offered to leave stuff here in the attic, packed away in storage like the last time I left, but Finn insisted. We’re building a new life together, a home, and that means taking everything I could possibly want. “You’re lucky I love you so much,” he jokes, hoisting a couple of boxes like they weigh nothing. “Yeah, yeah.” I give him a quick kiss and push him back towards the door, even as my heart sings to hear him say it. Although we haven’t spent a moment apart since I went to Nashville, I still can’t quite believe that everything worked out this way. He’s mine. Finn leaves with another load for the truck, and I turn back to find Lottie watching me with an unreadable expression. “What?” I ask, then flush. “Sorry about all the PDA,” “It’s not that.” She shakes her head slowly. “I was just thinking, that’s all. I’m glad you guys found each other again. Watching you.” She gives a sigh. “I guess it reminds me what that kind of love is like, that’s all.” She turns back to Kit, bouncing him gently in his arms, but I can see the moment of wistfulness on her face. I don’t know whether she’s remembering the past, or hoping for the future, but I feel a pang for her. “You’ll find it, too.” I cross the room and hug her. “I promise. You’ll know what it’s like to feel this way, one day.”

Lottie looks self conscious. She shakes it off, and gives me a big smile. “For now, you need to live it for the both of us. Promise me you’ll go crazy, stay out all night on romantic dates, and have sex all day, every day.” I laugh. “That won’t leave much time for eating, or sleeping.” “Who needs sleep?” She grins. “When you’ve got a superstar in your bed.” After the last box is stashed away in the back of the moving truck, I slide my arms around Finn’s waist and smile. “Almost done,” he says. “There’s just a goodbye party, three days’ drive, and all the unpacking to do.” I sigh, leaning in for a kiss. “Although I still don’t know why we can’t drive straight through. It wouldn’t take longer than a day.” Finn brushes his thumb across my lower lip. “I wasn’t thinking so much about the days as the nights,” he says, moving closer to murmur in my ear. “I want to fuck you in every state between here and New York City.” My blood races. “Well, in that case, why don’t we take the long way around?” I grin. “California’s on the way, right?” He laughs, and yanks the doors down. “What time is everyone coming over?” I check my phone. “Not for another hour. It’ll be pretty casual,” I add. “Just Delilah, Edith, some people from town. Everyone wants to say goodbye.” Finn pauses. “If we’ve got the time, will you do something with me?” “Of course. What’s up?” He gives me a shadowed smile. “There’s someplace I need to go.” I squeeze his hand. “Whatever you want. I’m here.” I borrow the keys to the minivan from Lottie, and Finn gets behind the wheel. We drive through town, past the stores and houses. I wonder where Finn’s taking me, until he pulls up outside the church that stands on a patch of land bordering the woods Beside it sits the graveyard, quiet and shaded with old oak trees. Finn turns off the engine, but doesn’t move. He exhales with a sigh. “I’ve been putting it off since the day he died,” he says quietly. “Bill said it was a good service. Proper, at least.” “It was.” He looks at me in surprise. “I thought I should be there,” I say softly, remembering that day and how few people showed up. “For you.” He squeezes my hand, then gets out of the car. I follow, but he stops me. “Give me a minute?” he asks. “Take as long as you need.” Finn nods, and then walks slowly through the small gate, down the pathway lined with headstones. I watch from the shade of the trees as he carefully picks his way through the graves, until at last he finds what I know is a simple black stone, carved into the granite. Hank McKay. 1965 – 2014. Finn kneels down beside the grave. I can see his shoulders tense, his lips moving. My heart aches for him. All my goodbyes will be later, full of laughter and good wishes, but for Finn, this is the one farewell he needs to make more than anything. We’ll be back, for holidays and visits, and I know he wants so badly to be able to enjoy those moments without feeling the pressing burden of the past. He deserves to be free from all that pain. Not for the first time, I wonder what I would have done if Finn hadn’t strolled back into my life again. How long would I have stayed in my limbo and let my darkest, weakest moments define me? It makes me shiver to think of it, how close I came to wasting all my chances and throwing my future away. I didn’t realize it, but I was still broken. He was the only one who could help me put the pieces

together again. After a long while, Finn straightens up. He places a hand briefly on his father ’s headstone, then turns and starts the walk back to me. I can tell already, something’s shifted. He seems steadier, his pace stronger, and when he’s close enough for me to see the expression on his face, there’s an acceptance there that fills my heart with joy. “Okay?” I ask, searching his eyes. He nods, and reaches for me, pulling me into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers against my hair. “What for?” “Bringing me back here,” he answers, voice gruff with emotion. “Making me see, I need to let go.” We stand there a moment, just holding each other. Then Finn releases me. “Ready to go say your goodbyes?” he asks, smiling again. I nod. “Just so you know, Dee threatened to hire a stripper.” “A what?” Finn exclaims. “I know. I tried telling her. But she swears we’re going to elope, and this is her only chance for a bachelorette party.” Finn drapes an arm around me, and starts walking back to the car. “You tell her from me, when we get hitched, it’ll be with a white dress, and a church, and everyone watching.” When. I sneak a glance up at him, and the promise in his eyes takes my breath away. “You seem pretty certain for someone who hasn’t even asked me yet,” I say, trying to hide the butterflies dancing in my bloodstream. “Why, am I wrong?” he arches an eyebrow, looking too sexy and smug for words. “No.” I nestle against him, perfectly content. “You’re not wrong.” In the end, half the town turns out to celebrate us leaving, spilling into the backyard until our intimate BBQ becomes a real party. Finn mans the grill, Lottie rules the playlist, and we dance and party as the sun sets, everyone full of good wishes for the next chapter in our lives. “You have to go to all the cool bars and shows, and tell me everything,” Delilah orders. “And get a place with a spare room, so I can come visit all the time!” “I promise.” I hug her tightly, feeling emotional. “I’m going to miss you!” “You too, babes.” Delilah squeezes me. “Work won’t be nearly as much fun without you there to talk to all day.” “You’ll do fine without the distraction,” I reassure her. “I bet you’ll have Marcie pushed out and be running your own empire before we’re even back for the holidays.” “True!” Delilah brightens. “And remember to line me up a hot rock star for when I come visit. I want a full run down of all Finn’s sexy friends.” “I’ll do my best,” I laugh. “I’m happy for you,” Delilah says, sincere this time. “You two belong together. It even gives some hope to commitment phobic lost causes like me.” “Don’t say that!” I protest. “I’m not exactly a role model. It took us long enough to find our way back to each other.” “You can say that again,” Edith agrees approvingly from behind us. I smother her in a hug. “Good luck to the both of you.” She nods. “But what about you?” I ask, feeling a pang of guilt. “How will you manage at the shelter on your own?” “I’ll find a way.” She reassures me. “And Sawyer will stop by, help me keep the litter in check.”

I see him across the yard, talking with Dee and Lottie. I say goodbye to Edith and head over, meeting Sawyer with a hug. “So, Broadway awaits?” he says, offering me a soda. “I don’t know about that,” I laugh. “But my old drama school is happy for me to re-enroll and finish out my degree. We’ll see,” I say, excited at the thought. “Maybe it’s not the right dream for me anymore, but at least this way I have a chance to figure it out for myself.” “Well, Chester and I will miss you around the place,” Sawyer says. “You’ll keep an eye on Edith?” I check. “She’s getting older now, and with her back—” “Don’t worry,” he reassures me. “I couldn’t stay away from that place if I tried. She’s got me scheduled to give all the dogs their booster shots. Last I heard, she was drawing up a list of blind dates, too.” I laugh. “Sounds like her. Watch out though. She has interesting ideas about what makes people compatible.” “I’ll consider myself warned.” Finn joins us, and Sawyer holds up his hands in mock surrender. “We were just talking,” he grins, and Finn laughs. “Hey man, I’m sorry about before. I can be pretty possessive when it comes to this one.” “No hard feelings.” Sawyer shakes his hand. “I hope you guys will be happy in New York.” “What do you think?” Finn looks down at me. I smile, full of love and possibility. “I think we’re going to find out.” I hold him tight, thankful that the years and distance only brought us closer together again. Our adventure is just beginning. THE END Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to share more great romance books with you. Keep scrolling for the first chapter of my next release, THE PROMISE. To stay in touch, sign up for my newsletter Check out my website: http://melodygracebooks.com Connect on facebook: http://facebook.com/melodygracebooks Twitter: @melody_grace_

Coming in 2016, a heart-wrenching new stand-alone from Melody Grace.

THE PROMISE

One. Fall in Cambridge, Massachusetts was like nothing I’d ever seen before. I’d spent my life in a small town outside San Antonio, where the trees let out a vague shrug late in the season, and just like that, it was winter. But here, summer died out in a long, blazing victory dance. Sunburst gold and persimmon orange, witch’s scarlet and deep, bronzed ochre. The colors bragged and jostled loudly under cloudless skies, so bright, it almost hurt to look. I wasn’t on the best terms with God those days, but strolling to work under that shimmering canopy, I was almost ready to make peace. It was the kind of day that felt like a fresh start, and made me want to run right out and blow my first paycheck on a basket of new supplies: luscious inks, textured canvas and thick, rich oil sticks, the kind that stain your fingertips for days. “What’s got you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?” My new co-worker, Kelsey, was unlocking when I arrived at the café. She had sunglasses on, and the hood of her sweatshirt pulled low over her sleepy glare. “Don’t tell me you’re a morning person,” she added, before I could reply. “Just so you know, I don’t even become human until I’ve had my third coffee. I can’t be held accountable if I’m a bitch before ten.” “Noted,” I followed her inside. “How about you handle that beast of a machine, and I’ll make nice with the customers until you come back to life?” “I like you already.” Kelsey headed for the back, and I started to take down the chairs and set the tables straight, getting ready for the first customers of the day. I’d only been working here a week; a lucky break, I thought, but I know Hope would have called it providence. I could hear her voice when I walked in dragging my duffel bag behind me, the opposite of fresh off that three-day bus ride, and found the sign pinned up by the register. Help wanted. No hipsters, assholes, or dilettantes. “See?” she would have said, giving me that excited nudge of hers. “Everything works out exactly the way it’s supposed to be.” I wish I could have that kind of faith. It would make life easier, to be able to jump and just believe there’ll be something waiting to break my fall. But if she was right, then why was she buried under a bouquet of lilies at the graveyard out past Parson’s Gully, while the rest of the world just kept spinning, unconcerned? The rest of the team arrived, toting sweatshirts and backpacks, and armfuls of books to study on their breaks. Cambridge was a college town, and we were in the thick of it: from the clusters of startled freshman slurping down ice-blended mochaccinos, crammed onto the faded blue velvet couches by the windows, to the upper-classmen hiding in the loft space, building forts of their study materials and eking out a black coffee to last all afternoon. I loved the buzz of it already, a crackling shot of electricity as new customers piled through the doors the minute it turned seven AM, offering their orders with a pleading note in their voice and sleep still in their eyes. “Welcome to Wired, what can I get for you this morning?” I must have chirped a hundred times. “Look at you, Miss Congeniality.” Mika drawled, when finally the rush slowed to a trickle. He was on the register with me most days: a tall, rangy guy with a mop of auburn curls and the edge of an accent, Dutch, or German, maybe. “You know they won’t tip you either way.” “I don’t mind.” I shifted, restless in my sneakers. I looked around. “I’ll go clear up a little until the next wave hits.” Mika quirked an eyebrow. “By all means, be my guest.” I grabbed a tray and went to bus the tables. I knew the rest of the staff were amused by my eagerness. They’d been working long enough for it to be a chore; they didn’t understand. Waking up

each morning, I half expected this new adventure to be a dream that would dissolve with every yawning breath; and when it didn’t, I treasured it all over again. My small, shared apartment with the roommate who hogged the bathroom and a shower that always ran cold; the long walk to work along unfamiliar streets, even wiping down the cracked formica tabletops: this was freedom to me. No rules, no parents hovering over my shoulder, no childhood photos lined up on the mantel in a long procession of guilt. I was anonymous in a city that didn’t know my name, a thousand miles from home. And the people… I wanted to draw every last one of them. Mika’s cut-glass cheekbones and permanent smirk. The barista, JJ’s thoughtful stare and smooth-shaven head, midnight black. He was a math whizz, on scholarship at a college nearby, and the rest of them would delight in yelling out the problems whenever the register glitched. “Two fifty-nine, plus sixty-seven cents, plus three eighty-six, plus tax!” Mika would whip at him. But the kid never faltered, just answered with a steady smile. “Seven dollars and ninety seven cents.” The customers loved it, but Mika would just scowl. The two of them bickered all day, a low-level frequency hum of irritation so steady it took me by surprise when I stayed late after closing after my first week and saw them leave together, Mika’s arm slung around JJ’s shoulder, pausing at the stoplight to tilt his face up for a tender kiss. “I didn’t know they were a couple,” I told Kelsey the next day, feeling more like a small-town girl than ever before. She made a vague back-and-forth motion with her hand. “We’ll see,” she said with a sigh. “Either that, or the shit will hit the fan real soon.” As for Kelsey, she slouched around the café in lace-up boots and thin flicked eyeliner more precise than any ink drawing I had ever mastered. She played in a punk-rock band, and seemed utterly unshakeable. I was a little in awe of her. To be honest, I was in awe of them all. They were the lead characters in their own lives, living out stories of drama and intrigue of which I only saw a glimpse, and meanwhile, I’d barely worked up the courage to tip-toe onto the edge of the stage. All of this is my way of trying to explain that on the afternoon in question, that perfect, clean chalk-board of an afternoon, I wasn’t looking for a man to walk through the door and change my life. I wasn’t that girl at all. My life had already been changed in ways too sharp and devastating to describe, and the idea of another disrupting force – another reckless wild-card to send my life spinning off course – would have made me run for cover had I even a moment’s warning. I could have called to Kelsey that I was taking my break, ducked out to sit on the back steps in the morning sun, and felt an inexplicable shiver rippling over my skin as the storm passed me by. But that’s not how this story goes. I was refilling the sugar canisters when he walked in. I remember, because the glass facets were catching the light, reflecting rainbows back against the sun-drenched windows. I twisted them one way and another, painting shards of color over the walls, and tables, and squinting faces in their path. I heard the faint ‘ding’ of the door, but was still lost in the kaleidoscope of colors when he rested his elbows on the counter just out of the corner of my eye. “My heart leaps up when I behold/ A rainbow in the sky.” He told me later, he felt like a pretentious idiot, quoting poetry at me out of nowhere. But I’d loved those lines ever since my fifth-grade teacher had pinned them over the art wall. “Wordsworth.” I was already smiling when I glanced up. There are some faces that burn into your memory, and others that change every time you look in their direction. A new slant of light, a passing shadow, they can either rearrange someone into a

stranger every time you meet, or etch their features even deeper; carved into stone. Somehow, his was both at once. Eyes that dipped from hazel to umber and back again; the dark lashes and faded golden tan, like Midas coming up for air. His features shifted as if they couldn’t decide what mood to form, those broad planes stroking out a twist of a smile under a disheveled mop of ash gold hair. He had his collar half up, that battered navy peacoat crushed around him, and even when I clumsily knocked the sugar canister aside, and the rainbows scattered into sunlight, he was still the most vivid thing in the room. “I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing for a napkin. I watched him push the spilling sugar back into a neat square, contained, and felt an overwhelming itch to draw his hands. There was a grace to them, a linear sense maybe, and just like that I realized how Da Vinci could have spent a year sketching the same thing over. It wasn’t the form, it was who they belonged to. “… to-go.” I snapped back. He was looking at me expectantly. “Sorry, I missed that,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing under the focus of his gaze. “Coffee, black, to go. Please and thank you.” He gave shy grin that slowly spread wider, unfolding, until it encompassed his whole face and every square inch of the small, bustling café. God, that smile. I managed to inure myself to it eventually, or at least pretend it didn’t knock me clear across the room, but back then, I didn’t see it coming. The sugar canister clattered to the floor. “Get a grip, newbie!” Kelsey swung by. I died a tiny humiliating death, and ducked down behind the counter to scoop it up. When I stand up again, I’ll act like a functioning human who’s been in the presence of men before, I told myself, kneeling a moment to catch my breath. “Everything OK down there?” He leaned over, his too-long hair hanging down over his eyes as he surveyed me, crouched there on the floor. “Just… taking a time out.” I managed to reply. “A time out?” His lips curled with amusement. “If I close my eyes, the world goes away. That’s how it works, doesn’t it?” “If only. When I was a kid, I was convinced I could use the TV remote to control real life. I spent weeks that summer, pointing it at things, trying make them move in fast forward, or pause whenever I wanted.” He circled around the counter and offered his hand to help me up, and I had no choice but to take it. A cool, firm grip; a gentle squeeze as he easily lifted me to my feet again. “How did that work out for you?” “Not great,” His smile turned rueful. “My mom said, I just needed new batteries, but I tried every last one in the house, and it still didn’t work. I was so mad at her, for pretending. I didn’t speak to her for days.” “She wanted to keep the magic alive.” I could picture him, a little boy, small fists clenched with rage. “She was just protecting you. It’s what parents do.” “Some of them.” The words weren’t even heavy, a casual ripple in the breeze of our conversation, but I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes that made me want to pull up a seat at the table in the corner and ask exactly what he meant by that; I wanted hours-long conversations that bled into dusk and the night beyond, until we surfaced at two AM, the layers peeled back, our hearts raw and visible and cradled gently on the table between us. I wanted something I’d never wanted before, with a fierce hunger that took the wind from my lungs.

To know him, every last breath. That swift longing brought me back to myself. I realized I was still holding his hand, and dropped it, stepping away. “I’ll get you that coffee.” I’d never been so glad to face the beast of a coffee machine. It took all my focus to remember the sequence of dials and buttons that set the gleaming chrome beast spluttering and hissing just right. By the time I’d filled a paper cup, and set the sleeve to protect those cool, steady hands of his, he was chatting to Kelsey by the register about an author I’d never heard of; someone doing a reading in town next week. “You should go,” he was telling her. “I’ve heard he’s great live.” “Maybe,” Kelsey shrugged. “I just don’t want to deal with all the over-pretentious guys jerking off at his feet. God, they drive me fucking crazy. I swear, they take one intro to lit class, and then they camp out in the corner for a month, scribbling meaningful prose into leather-bound notebooks like they’re Tolstoy. No offence,” she added, breezy. He shifted, flushing slightly. There was a notebook under his arm; a battered leather satchel slung across his chest. I wanted to tell him, this was just Kelsey’s regular morning bitch session. Every customer was alike to her, she didn’t mean it, I longed to say. “Here’s your coffee,” I said quickly. “Did you want a pastry with that?” “No, thanks.” He passed a crumpled five dollar bill over. “Keep the change.” He quickly turned and ducked out of the café, pausing a moment on the sidewalk outside; his hair glinting gold in the midday sun before he was lost in the surge of pedestrians and tourists beyond. I felt an odd sense of loss, so sharp it gave me the courage to jab her in the ribs. “Kelsey!” “What?” She yawned. “Oh, him? Don’t worry, he’s in here all the time. ” The loss eased. “Do you know his name?” I tried to hide my eagerness, but I knew I’d failed by the smirk on her cherry-stained lips. “Teddy, or Theo. One of those dead president trust fund names.” Kelsey gave me a knowing look. “To each his own,” she said, sing-song, and sailed away. Theo. I sketched him that night, what I could remember, the glimpses that somehow knit his face into my memory. I spent an hour shading the line of his jaw until it was just right, then ripped it from my sketchpad and tore the page into a confetti of smudged lines. I let them scatter from my window on the knife’s edge of the crisp night air, watched them spiral, tiny ghosts in the dark, until he was gone. The city was humming outside my attic room; sirens in the distance, a trail of neon along the dark river-bank. He wasn’t why I was here. At least, that’s what I believed at the time. We’d both discover, I was wrong. ORDER NOW

Take a trip to Beachwood Bay: the small town where passion and romance are making waves… Each book is a stand-alone romance following a new couple, but you’ll enjoy reading the whole series and seeing familiar faces return. THE BEACHWOOD BAY SERIES: BOOK 1: UNTOUCHED (Emerson & Juliet’s story begins - novella) BOOK 2: UNBROKEN (Emerson & Juliet’s story) BOOK 3: UNTAMED HEARTS (Brit & Hunter ’s story begins - novella) BOOK 4: UNAFRAID (Brit & Hunter ’s story) BOOK 5: UNWRAPPED (Lacey & Daniel’s holiday novella) BOOK 6: UNCONDITIONAL (Garret & Carina) BEACHWOOD BAY: THE CALLAHANS BOOK 7: UNREQUITED (Dex & Alicia begin – novella) BOOK 8: UNINHIBITED (Dex & Alicia) BOOK 9: UNSTOPPABLE (Ryland & Tegan) BOOK 10: UNEXPECTEDLY YOURS (holiday story) BOOK 11: UNWRITTEN (Zoey & Blake) BOOK 12: UNMASKED (Ash & Noelle begin — novella) BOOK 13: UNFORGETTABLE (Ash & Noelle) *

Discover the start of the epic love story. Unbroken is available now!

Prologue My mom always said there are two kinds of love in this world: the steady breeze, and the hurricane. The steady breeze is slow and patient. It fills the sails of the boats in the harbor, and lifts laundry on the line. It cools you on a hot summer ’s day, brings the leaves of fall, like clockwork every year. You can count on a breeze, steady and sure and true. But there’s nothing steady about a hurricane. It rips through town, reckless, sending the ocean foaming up the shore, felling trees and power lines and anyone dumb or fucked up enough to stand in its path. Sure, it’s a thrill like nothing you’ve ever known: your pulse kicks, your body calls to it, like a spirit possessed. It’s wild and breathless and all-consuming. But what comes next? “You see a hurricane coming, you run,” my mom told me the summer I turned eighteen. “You shut the doors, and you bar the windows. Because come morning, there’ll be nothing but the wreckage left behind.” Emerson Ray was my hurricane. Looking back, I wonder if Mom saw it in my eyes: the storm clouds gathering, the dry crackle of electricity in the air. But it was already too late. No warning sirens were going to save me. I guess you never really know the danger, not until you’re the one left, huddled on the ground, surrounded by the pieces of your broken heart. It’s been four years now since that summer. Since Emerson. It took everything I had to pull myself back together, to crawl out of the empty wreckage of my life and build something new in its place. This time, I made it storm-proof. Strong. I barred shutters over my heart, and found myself a steady breeze to love. I swore nothing would ever destroy me like that summer again. I was wrong. That’s the thing about hurricanes. Once the storm touches down, all you can do is pray.



1. I’m doing eighty on the highway with all the windows down, my dirty blonde hair whipping like crazy in the wind. I’ve got my Ray-Ban sunglasses on, and the radio playing country classics as loud as my beat-up old Camaro will go, trying to drown out the whispers of memory that started the minute I took the freeway exit onto the familiar coastal road. 45 miles to Beachwood Bay. 45 miles to Emerson. I shake it off. We were coming here for years before I met him, I remind myself sternly. Every summer when I was a kid. Months filled with playing in the surf and reading out on our shady back porch. I should have other, better memories of this place without him. But you haven’t been back here since. I block out the treacherous voice in my mind, yelling along with the radio instead. “Gone like a freight train, gone like yesterday…” The song is right, I decide. It’s gone. That summer is so far behind me, I couldn’t see it in my rearview mirror if I tried. I’m a different person from the screwed up, headstrong girl I was the last time I drove down this sandy road. I’m twenty-two now, just a month away from graduating college and starting out a whole new life. I’ve got a perfect boyfriend back in the city, and a great career all lined up. Despite everything that happened here that summer, I made it out—made myself into the person I wanted to be—and even though coming here to Beachwood Bay makes me feel sick and dizzy, like I’m about to jump out of a plane in total free fall, this weekend won’t change any of that. It can’t. Besides, I tell myself, trying to calm the shiver of nerves in my stomach, I don’t even know if he’s still here. I don’t know anything about Emerson anymore. My idle midnight searches online always come up blank. He could be halfway around the world by now, trekking in the African jungle, or knocking back beers on some beach in Australia with a tall, stacked bikini model at his side. Tucked under his arm, the place I used to be… I crank the radio even louder, the country twang ringing so hard I don’t even hear my cellphone, I just see the screen light up from where I tucked it in the cupholder on my dashboard. Lacey. My best friend. I answer, struggling to turn the volume down and keep a hand on the steering wheel. I know I shouldn’t talk and drive, but way out of the city out here, I won’t see a cop for miles. “Hey Lacey, what’s up?” “Are you there yet?” she demands. “Close.” I check the clock again. “About a half-hour away.” “I still can’t believe Danny boy didn’t go with you.” There’s a muffled noise as she gets comfy, and when she speaks again, I can just picture her, curled up in our student apartment in Charlotte, looking out the window over the bustle of downtown. “Isn’t this the kind of thing future fiancés are legally obligated to do?” she asks. “Packing up the summer house you haven’t stepped foot in since… well, you know.” She trails off. The silence sits in the air between us, heavy with grief. Emerson isn’t the only ghost lurking in this town. The pain he caused me was only half my broken heart. I gulp a lungful of fresh, salty air and force the demons out of my mind. “First of all, we don’t know he’s planning to propose.” I shift the phone to a more comfortable position under my ear. “Please,” Lacey snorts. “His parents love you, you’re moving in together after graduation, and he’s been dropping not-so-subtle hints about your taste in jewelry for months now.” “You didn’t tell me that!” My stomach kicks, but this time, it’s with a whole different kind of

nerves. “It’s been kind of hilarious,” Lacey adds. “So, do you think Juliet prefers modern or art deco styles?” she mimics Daniel’s careful East Coast voice. “What did you say?” I ask, curious. Even though Lacey is right—I’ve figured this was coming for a while now—it still feels strange to talk about it like this. Marriage. The future. Forever. With someone who isn’t Emerson. Lacey continues, oblivious to my thoughts. “Princess-cut, classic setting, nothing under two carats. Duh.” “Lacey!” I flush. “What? You said you wanted to build a life with him,” Lacey reminds me. “That you could picture growing old and gray together.” “I did. I mean, I do,” I correct myself quickly. “Daniel is great. He’s kind, and sweet, and smart—” “—and perfect, I get it!” Lacey cuts me off. “So I don’t get why he’s not going with you. Not just for all the heavy lifting and packing, I mean. If my girlfriend was going back to see her ex—” “I’m not here to see Emerson!” My protest comes way too loud, and I flinch, swerving wildly on the road. Lacey whistles. “Easy there. I’m just saying, Danny boy must be super-secure in your relationship if he’s not even curious about the first guy you ever loved.” I catch my breath, trying to calm myself. The last thing I need is to wind up dead, crashed in a ditch before I even reach the county line. I slow my speed and focus on the road ahead. “Daniel isn’t coming because I told him not to. I said I need the space to study in peace. And…he doesn’t know about Emerson.” I admit in a rush. “What?” Lacey’s screech makes me swerve all over again. “You said you told him ages ago!” “I did,” I protest weakly. “I said there was a guy I dated, before college. But I didn’t say he was here. Or how serious it was.” “Serious?” Lacey’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Try, like a fucking anvil.” “What was I supposed to say, Lace?” I sigh, feeling that familiar wash of guilt that always settles over me whenever I think about the half-truths I’ve told my boyfriend. “That I had my heart broken so entirely, it took everything I had not to slash open my wrists just to make the pain stop?” My voice is light now, but the words are true. For the longest time, it felt like I was teetering on a precipice, like one wrong step could send me tumbling into the darkness. The worst part was, there were moments I wanted to take that leap, to just end the pain for good. “Oh, babe…” Lacey’s voice softens. She knows what it was like for me: as my freshman roommate, she had a front-row seat to the damage that summer left behind. The days when all I did was curl in a ball, weeping, the weeks I barely ate or left my room at all, except for classes. She was the one who finally sat me down and staged a one-girl intervention: dragging me out to parties and coffee-breaks and the campus therapist, who prescribed me a whole list of anti-depressants and antianxiety meds. The pills helped—too much, I think sometimes—but Lacey was my real lifesaver, forcing me to fake at being OK long enough that I finally began to believe it for myself. I didn’t meet Daniel until my junior year, and by then, I could almost believe that those dark days were behind me for good. The only visible scar I had left was the tiny blue jay tattoo on my right shoulder blade. I’ve thought about getting it removed, wiping the slate clean completely, but something makes me leave it there to glimpse in the mirror every time I step out of the shower. A lasting reminder of all my dumb, fucked up choices, and the road I swore I’d never take again. Until now. “It’ll be fine,” I say firmly, as if that old fake-it-’til-you-make-it strategy will work now, all over

again. “I’ll pack up the house for the realtor and be back by Monday. I picked up groceries in the city, so I won’t even need to go into town.” “If you say so.” Lacey’s voice is doubtful, but she doesn’t press. “Call me later, babe.” “Love you.” I hang up, and grip the steering wheel determinedly. It’ll be simple: I’ve got a plan, just like I said to Lacey. I’ll get the beach house packed up, hand the keys over to the realtor, and leave town for good this time—no mess, no fuss, and damn well no moping over old memories. I head around the next bend, and all of a sudden, the familiar sign comes into view. Welcome to Beachwood Bay. Population 5,654. Despite all my good intentions to leave the past in its dark, deep grave, I can’t help it. One look at that peeling wooden board is all it takes for my mind to go racing back, four years ago, to the last time I drove down this road. The day when I met him. ***

4 years ago… “…And we can make s’mores in the fire pit, and cycle into town for ice cream like we always used to. Jules? Juliet?” My mom’s voice slips through my daydreams. I’m staring out the window at the haze of gray and moss green blurring past, fiercely wishing with everything I have that I was anywhere but here. I turn. My mom is looking over from the driver ’s seat. “What?” I snap, not even trying to keep the irritation from my tone. “I was just planning all the fun things we can do this summer.” Mom glances out of the windshield at the rain drizzling against the glass. “When the weather clears up, at least.” “We could have stayed in the city another week,” I remind her with a stab of bitterness. “I barely had time to say goodbye to everyone. I’m missing the big graduation party. And Carina gets to stay…” “Your sister has classes,” Mom reminds me. “She’ll drive down with your father next week.” I sigh. My older sister is twenty-two, finishing up college at UNC. She’s majoring in publicity and marketing, and from what I can tell, that just means she spends most of her time strutting around the bars of Raleigh on the lookout for an eligible bachelor. And by eligible, she means a future lawyer or investment banker from the right kind of family, earning six figures with another seven in a trust somewhere. I don’t want to call her a shallow bitch, but she earns it. “We could have waited for them,” I murmur. “I mean, isn’t the whole point of this summer—to be one big happy family?” My voice is full of sarcasm. I see my mom flinch out of the corner of my eye, but she doesn’t rise to my bait. “Another few days would have turned into another week or more,” she says briskly, instead. “And then summer would be half-way done before we even arrived.” I don’t reply. One week is nothing when I’m staring down three months of my fucked up family pretending like everything’s OK. I turn back to the rain-soaked view outside the window, lifting my beloved camera to peer through the viewfinder lens. It’s a manual Pentax SLR, a bulky old antique that my grandpa gave to me, years ago, back before he died. Everyone uses their cellphones now, snapping digital pictures to post online and pass around, but I like the weight of the old camera in my hand, and the hours I have to spend in

the darkroom, gently coaxing each photograph into life. I carefully twist the focus, bringing the view clearer. The sea foams, restless beyond the strip of brush-land and sand dividing the highway from the shore. I press my finger on the shutter and click, praying I make it through the summer without losing my mind. “You’ll be coming here with your own kids soon,” Mom adds brightly. “A tradition. You know, I came here with your grandparents, every summer since I was—” A loud bang sounds, drowning out her voice. The car swerves wildly, suddenly out of control. My chest slams against my seatbelt painfully, and my camera slips from my hands. I grab for it, desperate, as we careen across the wet highway. “Mom!” I yell, terrified. I see a flash of red through the window—the truck behind us in our lane. It heads straight for us, then swerves past at the last second. “It’s OK!” Mom’s knuckles are white, gripping the steering wheel as she wrestles to regain control. “Just hold on!” I cling on to the sides of my seat, thrown to the side as the car keeps spinning. We’re weightless, drifting in the road. Then, at last, I feel the tires get traction again. The car slows, until, finally, we come to a stop along the side of the highway. I gasp for breath, my heart pounding. The red truck we nearly hit has gone off the road further up the highway, front wheels buried up to the bumper in mud and sand. My mom is still gripping the wheel, staring straight ahead, her face chalk-white. “Are you OK?” I ask in a quiet voice. She doesn’t reply. “Mom?” I ask again, reaching out to touch her arm. She flinches back. “What? Oh, yes, honey, I’m fine.” She swallows. “The tire went out, I think. I don’t know what happened. A lucky miss.” Mom gives me a trembling smile, but I feel a tide of anger rise up. “Lucky?” I exclaim, furious. “We shouldn’t even be here! None of us wanted to come this summer, and now we nearly just died. And for what?!” Suddenly, it’s like a mack truck is crushing down on my chest. I can’t breathe, I can’t even think straight. I fumble at my seatbelt with shaking hands and then fling the car door open, stumbling out onto the road. “Juliet?” she calls after me, but I don’t stop. I don’t care that it’s raining, wet and cold against my thin T-shirt and cutoff shorts, I just need to get out. I need to breathe. I stride away from the car, gasping for air. None of this was my idea. We haven’t been back to the beach house in years, not since I was a kid. We haven’t been much of a family in years either, but mom got it in her head that we had to spend one last summer there together—before I went off to college and Carina graduated—and we could all finally stop acting like we were anything more than distant strangers living under the same roof, trying like hell to pretend to the world that everything was OK. Not that we don’t have practice. After all, pretending is what my family does best. Dad pretends he’s not a washed up academic with one failed book to his name and a taste for vodka martinis at four p.m. My sister pretends she cares about more than landing herself a rich lawyer husband with a country club membership and a six-figure bonus. My mom pretends she doesn’t regret throwing her life away on a charming British writer, or notice his late nights “advising” students at the office, and the disdain in his voice whenever he does remember to stumble home. And me? I pretend it doesn’t hurt me to keep pretending. That it doesn’t eat away at me to see how much she still loves him, meek and cowering for the slightest bit of his attention. That I don’t get these awful panic attacks every time I think about leaving her behind when I head off to college this fall. That’s why I agreed to this joke of a happy family vacation, to try to numb this sense I’m

abandoning her. She wants one last summer to pretend? I’ll give it to her. But look where all that pretending has gotten us now: nearly winding up dead in a car wreck before her precious summer even begins. “Hey!” I hear a guy’s voice behind me, but I’m so desperate, I don’t slow down. My heart is pounding now, so fast I feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest. I know I just need to calm down and wait for the panic to pass, but when I’m caught up in the whirlwind, I can’t see straight long enough to try. “Hey, wait up!” the voice comes, louder, and then there’s a heavy hand on my arm, pulling me around. “What?” I gasp, violently yanking back. “What the fuck do you…” My protest dies on my lips as I stare up into the face of the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen. His eyes are the first thing I notice. They’re dark blue, mesmerizing, the color of skies after sunset. It’s always been my favorite time, that moment when the last light of day has faded away, and the first stars come out. Now I’m looking right up into them, endless midnight constellations. Ringed with thick, dark lashes, they burn into me, intense. Full of secrets, full of scars. “Where are you going?” the guy demands, still gripping painfully onto my arm. “You can’t just walk away from this!” I pull away, still dazed. He’s older than me, but not by much, his early twenties maybe: tall and broad-shouldered, skin tanned a deep bronze by the sun. His arms are taut beneath the black T-shirt he’s wearing, damp and clinging to his muscular torso. His body is slim but compact, almost radiating with tightly-coiled power in his black jeans and beat-up workman’s boots. Rain drips from his dark hair, curling too-long around his collar, and on his right bicep, I can see the dark ink of a tattoo snaking up beneath his shirt. He takes my breath away. The world shifts back into focus, and I find that I can breathe OK again. Just like that, my panic begins to ease. “Are you listening?” he demands, face set and angry. Then the anger fades, replaced with concern. “Wait, are you hurt? Did you hit your head?” He reaches for my face, fingers grazing against my forehead with surprising gentleness. I look into those deep blue eyes again and feel a shock ripple through me. Electric. I lurch away, startled. “I’m fine,” I manage, my heart rate finally slowing. What the hell am I doing? I scold myself. Drooling over some guy on the side of the highway? Don’t I have more important things to worry about—like the fact I was this close to dying just a few minutes ago? Now that he knows I’m not injured, the guy’s angry expression returns. “Then you’re lucky I don’t kill you myself right now,” he tells me, grim. “What the hell was that back there? Don’t you know you shouldn’t drive fast in a storm?” I catch my breath, my frustrations all boiling over at once. “First of all, I wasn’t driving,” I yell back. “And second, it was an accident! Our tire blew, it happens. How is any of this my fault?” I challenge him, folding my arms. His eyes follow the motion of my arms, and I’m suddenly painfully aware of my thin T-shirt, now wet through and clinging against my chest. I shiver, seeing a new hunger in his eyes as his gaze trails down my body, lingering on my bare legs. I feel my skin prickle, and my breath catch, not with discomfort, but something new, some kind of heightened awareness. I feel a heat pool, low in my stomach. The guy drags his gaze back up to meet mine, and then he looks at me with what I swear is a smirk curling at the edges of his perfect mouth. “How are you the mad one right now?” he asks. “I’m the one with my truck totally fucked back there.”

I look past him. His truck is nose-deep in a sandbank, back wheels spinning. “Yeah, well we’ve got a flat tire and no spare.” He smirks for real this time. “What kind of idiot doesn’t keep a spare? We’re miles out from anywhere.” “Maybe the kind of person who drives in the city, where we have little things like cellphone signal and tow trucks!” The smirk fades. “You’re summer people,” he says, like it’s a crime. “Let me guess,” I shoot back. “You’re a townie with a chip on your shoulder. Well, maybe you should save the issues until we both get out of here.” He opens his mouth in surprise then stops. He looks around at the wet empty highway, and finally, it sinks in that I may have a point. “Fine,” he says, grudgingly. “I’ll call for Norm to come get us.” “I thought there wasn’t signal out here?” I frown, pulling out my phone from my pocket again, just to check. “I’ve got a CB radio in the truck.” He heads back towards the red pickup. “Stay there!” “Where else would I go?” I sigh, watching him walk away. I trace the back of his body with my eyes, absorbing the grace in his gait. Then he turns, catching me. I blush, hoping frantically that he can’t see my pink cheeks in the rain. “You didn’t tell me your name,” he calls. “You didn’t ask!” I yell back. He grins and waits, until finally I surrender. “Juliet,” I tell him, and wait for the snarky quip, but instead, he just cocks an eyebrow at me. “I’m Emerson,” he calls. Then he smiles, a flash of something true and reckless, so darkly beautiful I feel my heart stop all over again. This is what they write stories about, I realize, as if from far away. All those books and movies and poems I’ve read, this is what they all were preparing me for, the day when a strange man smiles at me, and makes me forget who I am. His eyes meet mine, and I swear my blood sings, hot in my veins despite the cold, damp rain trickling down my back. “Welcome to Beachwood Bay.” Emerson and Juliet’s story is only just beginning. UNBROKEN is available now!

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS There are so many people to thank for this book - and supporting me as an author. First of all, to all the readers who have been so kind, generous, and enthusiastic to read my words. It really makes all the difference in the world to know you’re reading. To my amazing agent, Rebecca Friedman, and rockstar publicist Jenn Watson at Social Butterfly PR. All my friends and #squad, I love you guys! Thank you for taking the bad with the good :)