Smeltzer Micalea - Trace Olivia Series Set

How far would you go to find yourself? That’s the question that’s been haunting Olivia Owens for years. All Olivia has ever wanted to do is live and make mistakes, but her preacher father has made that impossible. She believes that her years at college will be her ticket into the real world and her chance to be wild and spontaneous. But she’s never been able to do it on her own. At the start of her sophomore year, she only has four things crossed off her Live List, but that’s all about to change thanks to a chance encounter with Trace Wentworth. She’s about to learn that there’s more to this reformed bad boy than just his looks and panty dropping smile. Trace can’t explain what it is that draws him to Olivia. All he knows is that he wants to get to know the girl with the sad smile but sparkle in her eyes. When she tells him about her list, he knows that this is his chance to get to know Olivia Owens. Trace is determined to show Olivia that she can do all the things she’s ever wanted to do. So, he begins to help her cross things off her list, even the more outlandish requests. What happens along the way is more than what Olivia or Trace ever expected. Love, laughs, and a list. That’s the name of the game when you’re Finding Olivia.

Copyright © 2013 Micalea Smeltzer All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Cover Design and Photography by Regina Wamba of Mae I Design Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

To anyone who has ever needed that extra push to spread their wings and fly.

It’s hard pretending you’re perfect when you’re anything but. For as long as I could remember, my dad, his eyes cold and calculating, judged every move I made. I could hear his gruff voice, clearly in my head, scolding me. “No, Olivia! You can’t play outside! You’ll get mud on your dress!” Or, “No, Olivia! You can’t play with those children! Their parents don’t go to church!” And one of my favorites was, “No, Olivia! You can’t go to that school dance! You might end up pregnant!” He kept waiting for me to mess up, to make a mistake that was unforgivable. It was like he knew that I really wasn’t this perfect girl that I pretended to be. But I refused to give him that satisfaction. As long as I lived under his roof, I hid who I really was. I was the perfect preacher’s daughter that he always wanted me to be. I wore my dresses and attended church every Sunday. I pretended that I wasn’t slowly suffocating on the inside. I wore a smile on my face to hide the pain I felt while I counted the days until I could leave. I purposely picked a college that would put as much distance as possible between my father and I. I wanted to live and spread my wings. I wanted to be wild and spontaneous. I wanted to make mistakes. And that’s why I sat down and made my list on the last night I lived under my father’s oppressive roof. That list was my way of finding myself. I only hoped it worked. Or had too much time gone by, and the girl I was supposed to be, was lost forever?

“No, no, no, no!” I beat my steering wheel with the heel of my hand. “No! You’ve got to be kidding me!” I pulled off the road, my tire bumping along. I put my car in park and climbed out to assess the damage. My feet crunched on the gravel scattered alongside the road. Immediately, the oily burnt smell of my peeling tire met me. Calling this a flat tire didn’t do it justice. This was complete and utter carnage. I looked behind me, at the trail of tire pieces leading straight to my car, like a path of breadcrumbs. It was starting to get dark and this wasn’t exactly the safest road. I was also a twenty-year-old girl, ripe for the picking. I kicked the side of my car. “I don’t have time for this!” I stalked around the back, to the trunk, lifting it and looking for the necessary tools to change a tire. Which was pointless because, unfortunately, I didn’t know the first thing about changing a tire. My father had made sure that I only knew how to do a woman’s work. I slammed the trunk closed and stalked back to the driver’s side, pulling at the ends of my hair. I glared at the offending nail, that had to be four inches long, sticking out of the tire. How many nails did people drive over a day and I was the one to get a flat freakin’ tire? Not cool. Not at all. I opened the door and reached for my phone to call my roommate to come pick me up. The sky was darkening and I didn’t want to be stranded here. I wrapped my lightweight jacket tighter around my body, as the wind gusted around me, blowing leaves off of the nearby trees. I watched the red, yellow, and orange leaves fall down and scatter over my car. One, unfortunately, got caught in my hair. I reached up and pulled it out before letting it drift to the ground. Gravel crunched behind me. I turned quickly, to see a guy getting out of a black car that looked like something old, but classic. I hadn’t even heard him pullover. I backed a step away, thinking he might be a murderer, or a rapist. But when I got a look at his face I was stunned. He was tall, with a lean body, but muscular. He had short, dark brown, almost black, hair and the greenest eyes I had ever seen. Five o’ clock shadow covered his cheeks and chin. My eyes trailed down, over the white t-shirt glued to his chest, and stopped there. I could see black ink underneath the white shirt and licked my lips. The fact that he had tattoos only made him hotter. To protect against the cold, he was wearing a long-sleeved plaid shirt. “Uh—can I help you?” He asked, smiling pleasantly at me, and putting my earlier fears about him

being a murderer or rapist completely to rest. Help? With what? I needed help? “Huh?” He grinned crookedly, tilting his head. “With your tire. Do you need some help?” He had the deepest, huskiest, voice I had ever heard. I shivered at the sound. I was pretty sure I’d be happy for him to help me with a lot of things, and none of them included my tire. “Help would be great,” I blushed, ducking my head. He chuckled. “You do have a spare, right?” “Yeah, it’s in the trunk,” I pointed, like he didn’t know where the trunk was. He grabbed the spare, and all the necessary tools and sat down, next to the ruined tire. “I—uh—would’ve changed it myself, but—uh—my dad never taught me,” I ran my fingers nervously through my wavy brown hair. “He said something about it not being appropriate for a girl to do and if I ever got a flat tire, I better hope Prince Charming came along. My dad’s very—uh—old fashioned,” I stammered. He looked up at me. “Does that make me Prince Charming?” He grinned. “Oh—uhm—Prince Charming is fictional, so I guess not, and he-uh-usually rides a white horse or something… I think.” Somebody, stamp AWKWARD across my forehead already. The guy threw his head back and laughed. “I guess a shiny black 69’ Camaro doesn’t count as a white horse. You watch a lot of Disney movies or something?” “No,” I blushed tomato red. “At least not anymore.” “You’re funny,” he squinted up at me, shielding his eyes from the orange glow of the setting sun. “I hope that’s a good thing,” I muttered. Unfortunately, I wasn’t trying to be funny. “It’s a very good thing-” He paused, waiting for my name. “Oh—uh—Olivia. Olivia Owens.” “I’m Trace,” he reached a hand up to me and I took it. It was warm and calloused, swallowing mine whole. “Trace Wentworth,” he grinned when my hand jerked at his touch. We were both silent after that as he changed my tire. When he was done, he packed everything away, and put my ruined tire in his trunk. “You don’t need to do that,” I reached for his arm. The guy had already stopped to help me; I certainly didn’t expect him to haul my ruined tire away as well. “I’m a mechanic, I’ll get rid of it at work,” he closed the trunk with a shrug. “You need to get a new tire on tomorrow. That spare won’t last you long.” “Right,” I nodded, committing that tidbit of information to memory. “Bring it by Pete’s Garage,” he opened the door to his car and held onto the frame. “I’ll be there and fix it up for you.” “Oh—um—okay. Thanks for fixing my tire and for-uh-stopping,” I said, walking backwards away from his car and towards mine. “You say, uh, a lot,” he commented, a grin tilting his lips up at the corners. He had one of those smiles that made panties around the world drop. I was tempted to check and make sure mine were still firmly in place. “I know,” I grimaced. “It’s a-uh-bad habit.” Actually, I rarely ever said, uh, it was just that Trace turned me into a blubbering idiot. He grinned, tapping his car door with his hand like he was playing a drum. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” “Yeah, you’ll see me. Gotta get this stupid thing fixed,” I smacked the hood of the car. “Ask for me, okay, Olivia?” His eyes grew serious. “I will,” I gave him a thumbs up, hating the way my body reacted to the way he said my name. Wait, I gave him a thumbs up? What was wrong with me? That was not cool! He probably thought I was so dumb. Heck, I thought I was being dumb. How was it possible for one gorgeous guy to turn me into a complete pile of mushy goo? That didn’t seem fair. Trace waited for me to get into my car and drive away before he did the same. Despite the bad boy appearance, he was obviously more of a gentlemen than most of the guys I knew. I smiled to myself as I drove down the road and towards the college campus. My roommate, and best friend, wasn’t going to believe this. Things like hot guys pulling over to help a damsel in distress

didn’t happen to me. In fact, I was pretty sure it didn’t happen to most people.

“What!? Oh my God! Olivia!” Avery, my roommate shrieked, as she gripped my arm like she was afraid I was about to run away. “Puh-lease tell me you got his number!?” “Uh, no,” I mumbled. “I didn’t even think about it.” “Olivia! If he was so hot you should have been all over that!” She finally let go of my arm, and I grabbed my laptop off my desk, sitting on the edge of my bed. “He did tell me to come by Pete’s Garage and he’d put a new tire on,” I shrugged, turning on the laptop, and entering my password. I really hoped Avery never figured out my password or she’d be itching to get her hands on my computer and dig up my deep dark secrets. Because, according to Avery, everyone had a secret. “He’s a mechanic!?” She shrieked, clapping her hands together. “That’s so hot! Just picture him shirtless, sweaty, and covered in grease,” her tongue flicked out to lick her red colored lips. “Oh yes, I do approve.” “You haven’t even seen him, I could be lying,” I teased her. She snorted. “I doubt that, I’ve never seen you wear such a goofy look on your face. Plus, his name is even hot. Trace Wentworth,” she fanned herself. “It doesn’t matter,” I scooted farther back on my bed. “I’m not going. I’ll find somewhere else to take my car.” In fact, I was already doing that. It wouldn’t be hard to find a mechanic in Winchester, Virginia. One that wasn’t a particular hot guy with emerald green eyes. Avery gasped like I’d said the craziest thing on Earth. Hopping onto my bed, and jostling me, she brushed her red hair over one pale shoulder. “You have to go there!” “And stutter like an incompetent fool again?” I glared at her. “I think not!” She narrowed her dark green eyes at me. “You are going Olivia Camille Owens, even if I have to drag you there.” Oh no, Avery had that determined look on her face, the one she only got when she meant business. “I’m not going and you’re not dragging me.” Her eyes narrowed further until they were slits. “Don’t make me drug you Livie, I keep Benadryl on hand for occasions just like this.” “Fine,” I conceded, throwing my hands in the air, then snapping the lid closed on my laptop. “But only if you go with me,” I pointed at her. “You’ll make sure I don’t say something stupid.” Like I had tonight. Trace probably hoped I wouldn’t show up. She squealed shrilly, jumping up from my bed. “Deal! I have to figure out what we’re going to wear!” “We need to get dressed up to get my tire replaced?” I asked her incredulously. “No,” she rolled her eyes, “you need to get fixed up for Trace, and I need to get fixed up in case there are any other hot guys working there. I swear, do you not know anything?” “Apparently not,” I muttered and laid back on my twin sized bed, covering my face with my pillow. I knew it was going to be a long night, one filled with Avery pairing every possible clothing option in her closet and then proceeding to pick them apart. I’d probably show up to get my car fixed, looking completely fashionable thanks to Avery, but dead on my feet from lack of sleep. I’m sure Trace wouldn’t find it attractive if I yawned in his face. I don’t think anyone found yawning attractive. “Avery,” I huffed, throwing my pillow off my face and sitting up. She turned away from her closet and raised a brow. “If I’m going to go through with this, then I need my sleep. Don’t spend all night in your closet.” “You suck,” she stuck her tongue out but closed the closet doors. “This will only make it take longer in the morning, but whatever,” she shrugged, climbing into her bed and adjusting the straps of her tanktop. I didn’t understand how she slept in a tank and shorts, even in the winter. I rose from my bed and changed into my pajamas, hoping that tomorrow went smoothly, but knowing with my luck it would be anything but smooth.

“Avery!” I shrieked, coming awake and sitting straight up in bed, my hair sticking up in random places. “For the love of my sanity, please, go back to bed!” She turned around, pouting her lips at me, and placed a hand on her slender hip. “You convinced me to go to bed last night without planning our outfits, I agreed. Now, you want to get huffy with me for getting up early to help you?” She eyed me. “I reluctantly agreed to this, and I already regret it,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “It’s six am, Avery. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to see Trace in the next hour.” She eyed my sleep-raddled appearance. “I would certainly hope you’re not seeing him in the next hour. It will take at least two…maybe three to have you looking decent,” she turned back to my closet and scanned through my clothes. “Avery!” “God,” she turned around, glaring at me, “you are so cranky in the mornings! This is the last time I try to help you! I fully expect a Starbucks Frappuccino for this.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get your Frapp fix.” “That’s all I ask,” she grinned, climbing onto her bed, looking through one of her various fashion magazines. “Ugh,” I groaned when a few minutes past and I hadn’t fallen back asleep. “What?” Avery asked, not bothering to glance away from the glossy pages of the magazine. “Thanks to you, I’m wide awake,” I grumbled, rolling over on my right side, facing the wall. I punched my pillow, to fluff it up, but nothing was working. I was awake and I knew there was no hope of falling back asleep. “I hate you so much,” I muttered, sitting up in bed. Avery grinned. “Does this mean I get to pick out our outfits now?” “Yes-” The whole word hadn’t even left my mouth, before she was up, and across the room. I rolled my eyes and slipped from the bed. Since, I was up early, I might as well shower. I grabbed my bag of necessities and stepped into the bathroom we shared with the two girls beside us. If there was one thing I missed about my dad’s house, it was having my own bathroom. I luxuriated in the quiet space. I knew that as soon as I stepped back into our room, Avery would bombard me with five hundred different clothing options, and then force me to try all of them on. I got out of the shower, and brushed through my wet hair, before pulling it into a bun. I dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, knowing I’d be changing into something else in a matter of minutes. “That took forever,” Avery complained when I opened the door. “You’re annoying,” I snapped, putting my bag down, and sitting on my bed. Avery continued like I hadn’t said anything. “I think I’ve figured out what you should wear,” she motioned to an ensemble spread out on my bed. Funny, I hadn’t even noticed it.

“I think you should go simple but sexy. Just give him a taste, you know. We don’t want to show him all the goods up front,” she rattled, grabbing her breasts for emphasis. “So, I was thinking these jeans,” she stood beside me and pointed to them. “Paired with your yellow tank top, and this loose gray sweater, that’s mine,” she said, like as if I didn’t know that sweater wasn’t mine. “And,” she backed away, “I just bought these shoes, but since you’re a sister in need, I’ll give them to you.” She bent down, skimming through items on her closet floor, and pulled out a pair of black bootie high heels. They laced up the front and had three rows of studs on the side. “Since you said Trace had that whole bad boy thing going on,” she shrugged, “they’re perfect. What bad boy could resist these babies?” She held them up for my inspection. “I’ll die in those,” I scoffed. “But they look amazing,” I reached for one. Avery shrugged and handed both to me. “If you fall, make sure Trace is there so he can help you up.” I rolled my eyes. “Woman, you are ridiculous.” “It’s in the How to get a Guy Handbook,” she grinned. “This handbook sounds stupid,” I joked. “Hey,” Avery raised her hands in front of her chest in mock defense, “I’m the one actually having sex, so it must be working.” “Whatever,” I laughed, “we’ll do it your way.” “Good,” Avery grinned manically, “poor Trace Wentworth doesn’t stand a chance.”

I looked at myself in the floor length mirror on Avery’s side of the room. I don’t know how she did it, but I actually looked good. My jeans hugged my legs and hips in all the right places. The small portion of the yellow tank top that showed, made me look like I still had a tan, from the summer. The gray sweater looked casual, like I wasn’t trying too hard. And the shoes? Oh, the shoes. They made the whole thing come together. Avery clapped her hands together. “I told you so.” “Yeah, you did,” I agreed, smoothing a hand down my leg. “But are you sure I don’t look, you know, too fixed up,” I fingered the end of the fishtail braid Avery had done. I had insisted on doing my own makeup. If I let Avery do my makeup I’d end up looking like I had my face painted on. I turned around just in time to catch Avery rolling her eyes. “You look hot. Stop worrying about everything. Tracey-poo won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.” I made a face of disgust. “You did not just say Tracey-poo.” “I do believe that those were the words that left my mouth,” she winked, before looking in the mirror, and swiping on another layer of her favorite lip-gloss. If she put on one more coat, her lips would stick together. She had curled her red hair so that it hung down her back like a shimmering curtain. Despite the fact that it was autumn, and definitely not warm outside, she was wearing a pair of high waisted shorts with ripped black tights underneath. The shirt she wore was red and glued to her body, covered by a pale jean jacket with studs on the shoulders. Her high heels were super pointy and could double as a weapon. I definitely wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of those spikes. “Alright, we can go now,” Avery gave her hair a final fluff and then looked me over. “Great,” I snapped. “Maybe, we’ll get back in time, and I won’t be late for my afternoon class.” It was already close to noontime. “Oh puh-lease, Livie, it’s not even lunchtime,” she bent to retrieve her purse. I pouted. “Don’t remind me, I haven’t even had breakfast yet.” “You’re such a baby,” Avery scolded. “Seriously, chillax.” She rummaged through her purse and produced a Special K Bar. Holding it up proudly, she waved it through the air. “Here is your breakfast.” “That cardboard hardly constitutes breakfast,” I grumbled, but snatched the bar from her hand anyway. I ripped open the wrapper and began nibbling on it. “Don’t be dramatic,” she dragged me behind her and down the stairwell. The glass double doors opened to the campus grounds and I was happy to see that it was a sunny day. The past week had been full of bleak, overcast, gray skies. I unlocked the doors to my beat up Ford Focus and Avery eyed it like it was the grossest thing she’d ever seen. She constantly looked at my car like that, but it had always been reliable. At least, until

last night, but it wasn’t really the car’s fault for getting a flat tire. It was mine. No, it was the nail’s fault. Better yet, it was the person’s fault that lost the stupid nail. I brought up directions to Pete’s Garage on my phone, and pulled out of the campus parking lot, into the morning traffic. Surprisingly, it wasn’t far, maybe only ten minutes from campus and in the older part of the city. I parked the car and stepped outside, searching for dark hair, searing green eyes, and a cocky smile. Avery slipped out of the car elegantly and looked around for her next conquest. Licking her lips, she said, “I really hope that’s not Trace, over there, because I’m about to be all over that guy.” She swayed her hips dramatically. “Avery!” I hissed. “What? Look at him,” she pointed. I did, and thankfully, it wasn’t Trace. The guy was probably the same height as Trace but broader. The thick-corded muscles of his arms were on full display because he only wore a vest; one of those vests that guys usually wore with suits. His jeans were loose on his wide frame and riddled with stains, his hands shoved into the pockets. On his head he wore a fedora, the wavy ends of his shaggy golden brown hair sticking out from underneath. Sandy brown stubble dotted his prominent jaw and his eyes were a piercing light blue. In fact, I didn’t know eyes could be that light. And between his pouty lips, sitting there as if an afterthought, was a lit cigarette. “Is it him?” Avery asked. “Huh?” I shook my head, turning away from the guy and toward her. “Is that Trace?” She pointed to the guy in the vest again. “No,” I answered, “that’s not him.” “Thank God for that,” she sighed in relief, making sure her clothes were in place, before sauntering towards him. Vest man looked up and smirked, taking the cigarette from between his lips and dropping it to the ground, crushing it with the toe of his boot. He looked Avery up and down, much the way she had studied him, and I hoped that she had finally met her match. Not caring to stay around for the PDA that was bound to ensue, I walked into the garage. No one seemed to be around but I heard the clinging of tools. Several cars were up on lifts, with various parts scattered about. The windows in the back of the garage, were clouded over with age, making it even darker in the space. “Hello?” I hesitantly called out. “Hey,” a voice answered from behind me. The sound of wheels scooting met my ears, like whoever had spoken was on a scooter. I turned around, expecting to face a person, but found no one. “Down here,” the voice said again, with a chuckle. I glanced down and found Trace staring up at me from this plastic bed looking thing with wheels. A scream crawled up my throat and echoed around the empty garage. In my haste to scoot away, my feet tangled together in those darn heels, and I fell across the top of his chest. He grunted from the impact and my cheeks colored every shade of red in existence. “Well,” he chuckled, “this is interesting.” My eyes widened and I hastily scrambled away, somehow pushing my hand into his chest, causing him to grunt. “Sorry,” I mumbled, falling back on my butt, only serving to embarrass myself further. Trace laughed, shaking his head, and swung his legs over the side of the bed thing. Despite the cold temperature outside, he was wearing a white wife-beater, loose jeans, and boots. Standing, he reached down to help me up. “Thanks,” I mumbled sheepishly, looking anywhere but at him. “You okay?” He asked, glancing over my body for any scrapes. “Wonderful,” I stared at one of the cars on a lift. Trace chuckled. “You must be accident prone.” “Huh?” I finally looked at him, chewing on my bottom lip, and nervously wringing my fingers together. He ran his fingers through his short dark hair, flashing me a peek at a scripted tattoo on the inside of

his bicep. “Last night it was your tire,” he grinned, ticking it off on his finger, “and today you’ve already fallen, twice.” “Oh—uh—I’m not normally so clumsy,” I explained. Oh, God. I said uh, again. Why did every word in my vocabulary seem to leave me when he was around? “Must be the shoes,” he commented, pointing to deathtraps on my feet. Looking down, I muttered, “Maybe.” “Where’s your car?” He looked around, like he expected it to be in the garage. “Outside,” I pointed unnecessarily. Trace nodded, and wiped his greasy hands off, on a rag sticking out of his back pocket. I followed him outside, and made a strangled noise in my throat when I saw Avery pressed up against the garage wall, with the vest man attacking her mouth. I covered my eyes, gagging. No one should have to see that much tongue in a public place. Trace laughed. “Luca! Where’d you find this one?!” I blushed, letting my hand drop from my eyes. “She’s my roommate.” “That right?” Trace glanced over his shoulder at me with a raised brow. I nodded. “She seems like a…lovely girl,” he smirked. “Keys?” “Oh, right,” I tossed him my car keys and he caught them easily. I stood out of the way while he drove the car into the garage and onto a lift. “You can come in now,” he motioned me inside. I glared at Avery, but she was oblivious. She was supposed to be helping me and not making out with a stranger! I’d already made a fool out of myself by falling on top of Trace. There was no telling what I would do next. “I don’t bite,” Trace grinned, when I didn’t step into the garage. I forced each foot in front of the other and stopped next to him. He was already removing the spare tire and tossed it into the corner. He grabbed a new tire from the front corner of the garage and lifted it into place like it weighed nothing. “Are you from around here?” He asked, making small talk. “No,” I shook my head, “I’m from New Hampshire. I’m going to Shenandoah University so I guess this is kind of my home now. I certainly don’t plan on going back.” “Why not?” He squinted when he glanced at me. “It’s not important,” I shrugged. I didn’t need to go into detail about my dad and his controlling nature. It would only sour my mood. “Sorry, I’m prying,” he smiled sheepishly. “If I ask you what you’re studying, would that be too personal?” He tightened a bolt, holding the tire in place. “I’m studying to be an English teacher but I’d really like to write a book someday. I probably won’t though,” I shrugged. “Why wouldn’t you?” I snorted. “I’m sure I’d suck at it.” “You don’t know until you try,” he replied and my eyes zeroed in on the muscles flexing in his arms. My hormones seemed to go into overdrive when I was around Trace. I had never been attracted to someone, like I was with Trace. True, he was insanely good looking. But it was more than that. There was something about him that drew me in. “I don’t think I’ve experienced enough to write a book,” I reasoned, toeing the ground. Trace stopped working and turned towards me. “Isn’t that the point though? It’s fiction, you make it up.” “But it still needs to be realistic,” I rambled, waving my hands through the air as I talked. “Olivia, you’re overthinking this,” he stopped what he was doing and crossed his arms over his chest, a wrench dangling between his fingers. “If you want to write a book, you just sit down, and start writing.” I wet my lips and looked down at my hands to avoid his stare. He finished putting the tire on, leaving me to my thoughts.

My car lowered to the ground and Trace popped the hood. “What are you doing?” I asked, coming to life again. “You’re already here,” he shrugged, “and according to the sticker in your car, you’re due for an oil change.” “Oh, right,” I muttered. “I forgot.” Trace grinned, sweeping his dark hair out of his eyes. I grew quiet again as I watched his movements. It was clear that Trace knew what he was doing and he loved it. He smiled and whistled under his breath the entire time he worked on my car. “You’re good to go,” he announced, closing the hood of my car. “What do I owe you?” I asked, digging through the bottomless pit of my purse to locate my wallet. Trace made a noise in the back of his throat and waved his hand through the air. “It’s on the house.” “No!” I cried. “I can’t let you do that!” I might not have been a car expert, but I knew enough to know that tires weren’t cheap, and neither was oil. Trace crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his hip against the side of my car. Grinning cockily, he said, “You can make it up to me by going out for lunch.” “With you?” I choked. “Well,” his smile deepened, “that was kind of a given.” I felt like I was being strangled. “Fine,” I conceded, “but I’m paying for my own lunch,” I pointed at him menacingly. He snorted. “Nice try, but a gentleman never lets a lady pay for her own meal.” “This is the twenty-first century for Christ sake! I can pay for my food!” I was about two seconds away from stomping my foot, but held myself back. Trace watched me, not saying a word, waiting for me to calm down. “You good now?” He asked after a moment. “I’m good,” I tugged on my sweater to have something to do with my hands. “So, we can get lunch now? ‘Cause I’m starving,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He grabbed a green plaid shirt that hung on a hook next to the open garage door and shrugged it on. “Yes,” I snapped and he straightened from his casual pose, “but I am paying for my meal.” “You just keep on thinking that,” he brushed by me with a cocky grin. Damn that grin and what it did to my insides. I followed him outside and to the right of the rectangular building. Handing me my keys, he informed me, “Your car will be fine in the garage. Luca will close and lock it when he leaves for lunch…if he leaves, that is.” “Who’s Luca?” I asked, standing next to the passenger door of Trace’s sleek black sports car. It was definitely old, but well maintained. However, with my limited knowledge of car brands, I had no clue what it was. “I’m sure your friend will introduce you to him,” he winked. “Oh,” I gulped, remembering him calling out that name when we passed them. Trace slid into his car and motioned me to get inside. I took a deep breath, hoping that this was a good idea. I mean, I didn’t really know Trace, and I was getting into his car to go Lord knows where. “You don’t have to look so scared,” he grinned when I slid inside, running my fingers over the buttery smooth leather seats. “I’m not scared,” I scoffed. “Okay, maybe a little,” I admitted. “This isn’t something I normally do.” “Eat lunch?” He quirked a brow, a smile tugging his lips up crookedly. “Ha, ha,” I scrunched up nose. “No, what I mean is, I don’t normally get into the car of a guy I just met.” He smiled again, the one that made panties drop everywhere. “But we didn’t just meet. If I recall, we met last night.” “Why do I feel like I would never win an argument with you?” I grumbled. “Because you wouldn’t,” he smirked, backing out. “I’m a Wentworth and we never lose an argument. It’s in our blood.” I laughed at his comment. “Where are we going?” I asked, watching Pete’s Garage disappear behind us. “To get lunch,” he answered, rubbing his stubbled jaw.

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks Einstein, but I knew that.” “Just a little sandwich shop,” he shrugged. “Nothing fancy.” We grew quiet and I let out a giggle. “What?” Trace flicked his gaze to me. “Do you think they’ve come up for air yet?” I asked, picturing the way Luca and Avery had been going at it when we left. Trace chuckled. “Probably not. If anything…” “What?” I questioned. “They’re probably dirtying up the hood of his car,” he snorted. “Oh! Ew!” I covered my eyes, trying to block out the mental image he’d conjured up. Having a preacher for a father, talking about sex had been taboo in our house, making me a little squeamish on the topic. Even though I had lost my virginity at a party last year, it hadn’t been that great, and honestly it had happened so quick that I couldn’t quite remember it. Trace chuckled. “You should see some of the dents in the hood.” “Trace!” I squealed. “Don’t hide your face,” he grabbed my left hand and tugged it down. Reluctantly, I let my right hand fall as well. “Your face is far too beautiful to hide,” his fingers skimmed over my chin before he gripped the steering wheel once more. My cheeks flamed at his words and a fire shot through my belly, heading south. Trace parked against the curb, and I climbed out of the car, avoiding his gaze. How could he make me feel so fluttery inside when I had just met him? He dug some change out of his pocket and put it in the parking meter. I followed him inside the building like an obedient dog. He ordered his sandwich, and then looked over his shoulder at me, motioning me forward to order. I shook my head, the braid bobbing against my shoulder. “Nice try.” He glared at me, his green eyes darkening. “Olivia,” he said warningly, “order something to eat.” “So demanding,” I grumbled, stepping forward and ordering the first thing I saw off the menu. He leaned against the counter, handing his debit card to the woman working there. “My mama raised me right,” he told me, “and that means you never let a lady pay for her own meal.” “I think you already mentioned that,” I took one of the glasses of water the lady had placed on the counter. “And apparently,” he grinned, slipping his wallet into his back pocket, “it didn’t get through your thick skull,” he tapped my forehead. If he kept touching me, even if it was only silly little touches like this, I was going to melt into a puddle of goo. He grabbed his own glass of water and we picked an empty table while we waited for our sandwiches to be made. “I’ve been wondering something…” I paused, searching for the right words to ask my question. “Ask away,” Trace grinned, tipping his chair back on two legs. “Why did you stop to help me last night?” I bit my lip. His smile widened. “Gentleman, remember?” He tapped his chest. “I wasn’t going to leave you on the side of the road, for anyone to stop, when I could help you.” “Well, thank you,” I took a sip of water, wetting my suddenly dry mouth. “It’s not a problem,” he shrugged, gripping his glass of water. His fingers were long and elegant, his arms sinewy. I didn’t know what to say after that, so I chose to keep my mouth shut, before something embarrassing came out. Our food was brought out, and my stomach rumbled to life. That Special K Bar Avery gave me hadn’t helped to satisfy my hunger. “This is really good,” I commented, after swallowing my first bite. “I thought you might like this place,” he took a massive bite of his own sandwich. “It’s delicious,” I bit into the sandwich again, “and this place is really homey.” I glanced around the café. “I don’t like to eat at the mainstream places,” Trace took a sip of water and my eyes followed the curve of his lips as they wrapped around the glass.

Oh, God. I was staring at his lips! What was wrong with me? I acted like I’d never been around the male species before! The one time I needed Avery and she ditched me! She was going to hear a rant from me later. “They’re too overdone,” he finished, setting the glass back down. I shook my head, forcing my eyes away from his full pouty lips. “What’s overdone?” I asked. “Oh, right, mainstream restaurants,” I added. I really needed to stop looking at his lips, because I was getting flustered. “You said you’re going to Shenandoah Universtity, right?” He asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. I nodded, tucking a piece of hair that had come loose from the braid, behind my ear. “Are you a freshman?” “Sophomore,” I answered. “Are you in school?” I asked. He didn’t look much older than me, but one never knew. “Nah,” he let the napkin fall back to the table. “I was never big on school. Don’t get me wrong, I love to read, and history is cool, but I never liked it. I went to a technical school to work on cars, but that was easy for me since I had been around cars my whole life,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t like to study,” he added. “Who does?” I smiled. “True,” he grinned, and finished off the last bite of his sandwich. I had only eaten half of mine and I was already stuffed. “I can’t eat another bite,” I mumbled, pushing my plate away. “I’ll get a box for you,” he hopped up from the table and headed towards the counter. A moment later, he returned with a small box, handing it to me. “Thanks for lunch,” I smiled gratefully, boxing the sandwich. “It’s no problem,” he mumbled. I tilted my head and studied him. “What?” He squirmed under my gaze. “You have a hard time saying you’re welcome, don’t you?” He squirmed some more. “Maybe. It’s just…I don’t expect a thank you. When I do something, it’s because I want to, not because I want to be praised for it.” “Hmm,” I mused. “Are you sure you’re not a psych major?” He questioned. “I’m sure,” I laughed. “I’m just observant. It comes from being shy.” “Ah, I see,” he nodded. I grabbed my purse and the to-go box before following him outside. His car was low to the ground, and even though I was short, I felt like I had to perform contortions to get in there. I had no clue how Trace managed to duck his six-foot frame inside so easily. “Am I going to see you again, after today?” Trace asked, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t know,” I answered. “I want to,” he confessed, looking at me through thick sooty lashes. I swallowed. Trace wanted to see me? Trace, with his cocky smile, and those lips, wanted to see me, after today? It didn’t seem possible. I was plain old Olivia who no one ever noticed. I was a wallflower. A nobody. But Trace noticed me. In fact, he saw me. “I’d like to see you, again,” I admitted. That cocky grin graced his full lips. “Good.” Trace parked his car in the same spot as it was before and we walked around to the front of the building. I was surprised to see that Luca and Avery weren’t still against the building. Maybe they had moved onto the hood his car. I really hoped they were done, if that was the case. Luckily, they were sitting inside the small office that was attached to the garage, and all their clothes were in place. “Avery!” I called, waving her over. “Let’s go!” “Wait,” Trace grabbed my arm and a shiver skated up my spine. “What’s your number?” I rattled off my cell phone number and he entered it into his phone. “I’ll call you,” he let go of my arm.

“Okay,” I smiled, hoping he would but believing deep down, that he wouldn’t. Avery made her way out of the office, making sure to sway her hips in a tantalizing rhythm for Luca’s benefit. I rolled my eyes at her and unlocked my Ford Focus. “Thank you again,” I told Trace. “It’s not a-” “Problem, I know,” I interrupted him. He grinned as I climbed into my car. Before I closed the door, I heard him say, “I’ll see you soon,” and my heart soared. Avery got into the car, grinning like the Cheshire cat. I gave her a look to keep her mouth closed, as I backed out of the garage, praying I didn’t hit anything. It would be like me to get into an accident while I was still at the mechanics. Luckily, I managed to get out of there without making a fool of myself, and poor Avery was about to jump out of her skin. “How’d it go? Did you talk a lot?” She asked. “Or…not a lot?” She waggled her perfectly sculpted auburn colored brows. “I think it went good,” I told her, but in my overactive girl brain I was already over analyzing everything. “We talked and he took me to lunch.” “That sounds promising,” she fixed her lipstick in the mirror. “Did you get his number?” “No, but he asked for mine,” I bit my lip, hard enough that it started bleeding. Avery squealed, “This is good news! He asked for your number, which means he’s interested. Since you didn’t ask for his, you don’t seem desperate.” “What if he doesn’t call?” I continued to nibble on my lip. “Oh, he’ll call,” Avery smirked. “How’d it go with Luca?” I asked, desperate to steer the conversation away from myself. “Let me tell you, that man knows what he’s doing,” she fanned herself. “The things he can do with his tongue. Wow.” “Avery,” I groaned. “What? It didn’t go that far. Stop imagining dirty things, Olivia,” she laughed. “Knowing you, I couldn’t imagine it dirty enough,” I eyed her. “That’s very true,” she conceded. “Hopefully, I’ll be seeing much more of Luca, if you know what I mean.” I wanted to bang my head against the steering wheel. How Avery and I had ended up roommates and best friends was beyond me. We were so incredibly different. Sometimes, like now, I wanted to strangle the girl. But I couldn’t imagine not having her as a friend. “And maybe you can see more of Trace,” she kicked off her heels and then brought her feet up to rest them on the dashboard, “and finally get laid so you’ll stop bitching all the time.” I rolled my eyes. “Sometimes, I really think you’re a guy.” “Hey, I have five brothers, so I practically have a dick,” she shrugged. “It doesn’t mean you should act like you have one,” I reasoned. “Touché,” she smirked, wiggling her red painted toes. I parked my car in front of our dorm and grabbed my backpack out of the trunk. “I have to go,” I told her, slinging the heavy bag over my shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight.” “Later,” she called, heading in the opposite direction for her own class. My phone vibrated in my back pocket with a text. I pulled it out and smiled when I saw it was an unknown number. Is it too soon to ask you out? I don’t know. I replied. What if I said I want to see you tonight? Are you desperate? I asked. No. Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I wrote back. I know. I just wanted to make you sweat a bit. ;) You’re mean.

No, I’m a guy that you haven’t said yes to seeing again. Yes. I answered, hoping I didn’t come across as desperate. But he had been the one to text me, not the other way around. Besides, I’d never dated before so I was completely clueless on how these things were supposed to work. Was it normal for a guy you’d just met to ask you out? I’d have to ask Avery later. Tonight? He asked. I bit my lip. I was eager to say yes, but I knew that a mountain of homework was waiting for me tonight. Friday night works better for me. How about the park? I suggested, crossing my fingers that he wouldn’t cancel. My phone sounded seconds later with his reply. Sounds good. I’ll bring dinner. :) I’m looking forward to it. Me too. He texted back. I smiled goofily as I stuffed my phone into my pocket. I walked the rest of the way to class, with a slight skip in my step.

I fingered the worn piece of paper in my hands. I wrote it over a year ago, the edges were torn, and the once white paper had faded to yellow. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to rewrite it. Maybe it was childish, but it felt special, and I didn’t want to replace it. It was my ticket to freedom, if only I would stop being so shy, and do the things I had written down. All the things on my Live List, as I called it, were things I had always wanted to do. But most of them, I couldn’t, because of my father. He had controlled every aspect of my life, and I let him, because I was scared of displeasing him. All I had ever wanted was to make him proud. By the time I started high school, I knew that nothing I ever did, would please him. He was always striving for perfection, from himself, from me, from everyone and everything. But perfection doesn’t exist, no matter how hard or how long we search for it. So, why was I still looking for it? I read over each item on my list like I did every night. It had become a sort of calming routine for me. By now, I didn’t have to look at the list to know what was on it, but I did anyway.

Get drunk Fly in a hot air balloon Go to the carnival Go to a concert (even if it’s someone I’ve never heard of) Go to a party Lose my virginity Dance in the rain Go roller skating See the ocean Learn to paint Get a dog…or a cat…or a rabbit. Any pet will do. Sing in front of real people. Avery doesn’t count. Make more friends Shoot a gun Smoke

Get a tattoo Learn to pole dance Go skinny dipping Pierce my belly button Fall in love I knew some of the stuff I had written down was silly, but I still wanted to try them. It was all about the experience and the chance to do something forbidden. There were so many things I hadn’t been allowed to do and I felt like I had missed out on a ‘normal’ childhood. I wanted, desperately, to do these things. But I was starting to believe it would never happen. A whole year had passed since I made my Live List and I had only done four things. True, four was more than zero, but it seemed pretty pathetic to me, compared to all that was left to do. I read over the items, yet again, nibbling on my bottom lip. My need, to do these things, was growing restless. Something inside me was saying it was now…or never. The dorm room door opened and I hastily stuffed the piece of paper back into my pocket. Avery dropped her backpack on the floor and promptly pulled her hair up into a ponytail. I grabbed my textbook off my bed, and placed it in my lap, pretending to be doing my homework so Avery wouldn’t start questioning me about what I had been doing. I had never explained my list to anyone, let alone shown them, but I was beginning to think differently. Avery was my best friend but I certainly didn’t plan on showing her. She’d try to cross everything off in one night. “Have you heard from Trace?” She asked, sagging into her desk chair, dejectedly. I guessed she’d had a hard time in class. “He texted me,” I shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Annnnd?” She prompted, perking up. “We’re having dinner Friday,” I answered. “Aww, my little Livie is growing up,” Avery cooed, batting her eyes, “and finding herself a man.” “You’re ridiculous,” I rolled my eyes. “What? It’s about time you dated, I was starting to think you were a lesbian, and I should stop changing in front of you,” she smirked. I tossed my pillow at her but she easily deflected it. “Or maybe,” she laughed, “you’re finally shedding that good girl preacher’s daughter image. Let your inner woman out, girl!” She exclaimed. “Let her roar!” She clawed dramatically at the air. I cupped my face in my palm. “Do you think before you speak?” “Rarely,” she grinned. “What do you think you’ll wear for your date?” “First off,” I held up a finger, “it’s not a date. Secondly, do you only think about clothes?” “Oh, it’s a date. And no, sex comes before clothes,” she grinned. “Ugh,” I groaned. “You act like a horny teenage boy.” “And someone sounds jealous,” Avery twirled around in her pink swivel chair. “Of the fact that you’re practically a horny teenage boy? Hardly,” I snorted. “But seriously,” she whined, still twirling, “what are you going to wear?” She finally came to a stop and swayed dizzily. “Probably jeans and a sweatshirt,” I shrugged. Avery made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “No! You can’t wear that!” “We’ll be in the park and it’s cold out,” I shrugged. “You still can’t wear that! A sweatshirt is completely unsuitable!” She gawked at me like I had grown three heads. “I want to be comfortable,” I reasoned. “You can be comfortable when you’re dead!” She squawked. “Avery,” I rolled my eyes, “don’t be dramatic.” “I am not being dramatic,” she spun in her chair again. “I’m just telling you what everyone with a vagina knows about the rules of dating,” she scoffed. “Everyone, except you, that is,” she added. “Why does there have to be rules?” I groaned. “It’s stupid,” I complained, falling back on my bed, the textbook on my lap falling to the side. “There are rules for the sake of our sanity,” Avery answered, striding across the room, and sitting on the end of my bed. I kicked at her with my feet, trying to dislodge her.

“I’m wearing a sweatshirt,” I mumbled, “whether you like it or not. I don’t want to be cold.” “Olivia,” she whined, “that’s the point, you’re supposed to get cold, so he can offer you his coat.” I sat up, staring her down. “What is this? The colonial age? I swear, what handbook are you reading this from?” I grumbled. “The one that’s been around since the dawn of time,” she reasoned with a wave of her manicured hands. “And that’s exactly why it needs to be thrown away,” I pointed out. “Women should be able to stand on their own and not depend on a guy. Let alone these stupid rules that are the so-called guide to dating. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Avery grinned. “I don’t need to depend on a guy. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I just like to take a ride on their fun stick every now and then.” “Avery!” I blushed. “You did not just say that!” “I did,” she smirked, smoothing a finger over her red lips. “I love how when I say dirty things your little virgin ears turn red.” I reached up, grabbing my ears. “They do not!” “Oh, they do,” she nodded, grinning. “Back to the important matter at hand, these rules are a means to getting laid. To a guy, a sweatshirt is like practically wearing a chastity belt, telling him that these goods are not for sale.” “Oh my God,” I buried my face in my hands, my hair falling around me. “When did this turn into a mission for me to get laid? Besides, my goods are definitely not for sale.” “Girl, you’re a sophomore in college, who’s still a virgin. This has always been a mission to get you some sex, some great sex, and Trace is just the guy to do it. I can tell. It’s in the way he walks.” I let my hands drop. “I’m not a virgin.” “What? I thought you-” “Remember last year, at that party you dragged me to?” I asked. Avery’s mouth formed a perfect O. “No! Olivia! Not that guy! He looked like an ape!” “He was pretty hairy,” I snorted. Avery shuddered. “There’s no way that was a pleasant experience.” “It wasn’t,” I shrugged. “Is it supposed to be?” She looked at me like I had completely gone off my rocker this time. “Yes! It’s supposed to be amazing!” “It lasted like two minutes, how is that amazing?” I asked, avoiding Avery’s gaze by scrunching the bottom of my shirt in my hands. Avery’s eyes threatened to bug out of her head. “Two minutes? That’s it?!” “Well, yeah,” I shrugged. “Oh, girl, you can do sooooo much better than that,” Avery chuckled. “So much better,” she reiterated. “What did you mean by, it’s in the way he walks?” I asked. “What?” She asked, looking down at her hot pink nails. “You said that you could tell Trace would be good in bed, that it’s in the way he walks,” I repeated her earlier statement. “Oh!” She exclaimed. “Some guys have this walk they do. They don’t even know they’re doing it. If my experience speaks for anything, every guy that I’ve been with, that has the walk, knows exactly what he’s doing.” She rolled her hips and licked her lips to further drive home her point. “Trust me, Olivia, Trace can show you a good time.” I hid my face behind my hands again. “I think I’ve reached my sex talk quota for the day.” “Whatever,” Avery hopped up from my bed, scampering to her side of the room, “you suck.” I turned my attention back to the homework I really needed to finish, and forced myself to stop thinking about Trace’s walk, and wondering if Avery was right.

I no u said Friday but do you think we could do something sooner? I gazed down at the text message from Trace, wondering what I should do. I had some free time before my next class and planned to drive to Starbucks. So…did I go on my own, like I had planned? Or did I invite Trace? Finally, I sighed, and replied. I’m getting Starbucks. Meet me there?

What was the harm in getting coffee with him? See u there. :) My stomach rolled nervously. How could I be so affected by Trace? Why him and not another guy? What was so special about him? There had been plenty of guys in the last year who had tried to make a move on me, but I felt nothing, for them, while Trace caused a funny stirring in my stomach. I tried not to think about the way he made me feel as I got in my car and drove to Starbucks. He wasn’t there when I arrived, and I stepped up to the counter, ordering a Cinnamon Dolce latte. The guy handed me my drink and I slipped a cardboard sleeve on it. Surprisingly, Starbucks was mostly empty. I took a seat at the bar in front of the window. My eyes zeroed in on a sleek black car approaching and the butterflies started. Oh, God. Why had I agreed to this? I had already been crazy nervous for Friday, agreeing to see him again was only serving to make my nerves worse. I watched him slip from his car, and pull off his sunglasses, folding them, and hooking them onto his shirt. He opened the door, and looked up, smiling when he spotted me. His cheeks were dotted in day old stubble and his eyes were a light green. “Hey,” he grinned. “Hi,” I squeaked, my eyes darting away from his, and connecting with the tile floor. “Save my seat,” he winked, before getting in line, behind the few people that had trickled in. I sipped slowly at my coffee so I didn’t burn my throat. The stool beside me pulled out and Trace dropped into it. I didn’t know what to say, so I stared awkwardly out the window. He cleared his throat. “Olivia?” I reluctantly turned to him. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking me over. I nodded. I couldn’t tell him that it scared me the way my body responded to him. Already, I found myself scooting closer to him. It was like he was the sun, and I was a flower, stretching up to reach his rays. I knew I needed to say something and stop sitting here like a mute. “I’m glad you texted me,” I squeaked. “You are?” He tilted his head. “Because you don’t look that happy.” I bit my lip. “You…you make me…nervous,” I admitted. He grinned. “I make lots of people nervous,” he skimmed his fingers lightly over my hand that rested on the top of the bar. “It’s a perfectly normal reaction.” I shivered in response to his words. “Seriously, though,” he pulled his hand away, “there’s no need for you to be nervous around me. I’m just a guy.” I begged to differ. He was a freakin’ Adonis. And he was nice. And caring. AndI swallowed thickly. I might not have known Trace for long, but I had always been able to read people well, and I knew he was a genuinely good person…even if he was a little on the cocky side. “Is your car doing okay?” He asked. “The tire’s okay?” “Huh?” I stuttered. “Oh…yeah,” I shook my head. “It’s fine.” “Do I fluster you, Olivia?” He grinned, wetting his lips. “No!” I answered too quickly. “There’s no reason to get defensive,” he chuckled, rubbing his jaw. I glanced at him quickly, before my eyes flickered back to my cup of coffee, studying it intently. I stared out the window, across the road at the strip mall, like it was the most interesting thing I had ever seen. I shuffled my cup of coffee back and forth, scooting it along the tabletop, but then, it went flying from my fingers and tipped over. The contents spilled out on the counter and straight onto Trace’s jeans. He jumped from his stool to avoid more of the hot liquid. My cheeks flamed. This would only happen to me. “I’m so sorry,” I exclaimed, setting the cup upright, and grabbing a wad of napkins to dry the mess I had made. Trace would have to take care of his pants because I wasn’t going near that.

“It’s okay,” he assured me, wiping his jeans. I bit down on my lip to hold back tears. I was the most embarrassing person on the planet. I threw away the soiled napkins and frowned at the stain covering his jeans. “Hey,” he grabbed my chin. “It’s no big deal. They’re only jeans. Look at them,” he pointed at the material, “they’re already covered in grease stains. What’s a little coffee?” “Stop trying to make me feel better,” I mumbled, stepping away from his touch. He let his hand fall to his side. By now, the people gathered in Starbucks were watching us. He shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips as if he was holding back laughter, and threw away his empty coffee cup. “I have to get back to work,” he slid his sunglasses on. “And change my pants,” he chuckled. “I’ll see you Friday.” “Friday,” I nodded, as my stomach twisted, amazed that he still wanted to see me after I spilled coffee on his jeans. He smiled as he left, waving at me through the glass, as he got into his car. I watched him drive away, and took a deep breath, feeling like I could breathe now that he was gone. The way he made me feel scared me to death. No one had ever made me feel the way Trace did. A single look or touch from him sent my insides roaring. I didn’t know him, but it felt like I did. He was one of those people that was easy to trust…even if I did turn into a blubbering idiot around him. My fingers sought my list in my jeans pocket. I touched the paper, biting on my lip. I pulled it out of my pocket and threw my coffee away. I unfolded the paper and stared at my Live List. I made my list to try new things and be adventurous…so maybe, it was time I took that leap and told someone…told Trace. The worst that could happen, would be, he’d laugh in my face. But my gut told me that he wouldn’t do that. The question was…was I ready?

I jogged across campus, towards my car, texting Avery to let her know my class had run late, and I’d meet her at the restaurant in ten minutes. Hurry up biotch. She replied. I rolled my eyes at the text message and shoved my phone in my pocket. Leave it to Avery to come back with a smart-ass reply. I unlocked my car and tossed my backpack onto the passenger seat. I was about to climb inside when I heard my name. I looked around blindly. No one ever called my name. I kept to myself and my only friend on campus was Avery. I knew it couldn’t be her, because she was waiting for me at Chili’s. “Olivia!” The voice called again. Someone grabbed my shoulder, and I jumped, turning sharply. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Grinning, Trace held his hands up in defense. “It’s okay,” I mumbled, putting a hand over my racing heart. “What are you doing here?” I asked, and a second later, blurted, “Are you stalking me?” He chuckled. “You wish I was stalking you.” Trace looked me up and down with a smirk and I paled at his words. He pointed over his shoulder at a massive tow truck. “Some guy’s car broke down and we’re towing it in.” How had I not seen that? I really needed to stop living in my own little world. He shook his head, and blocked me in, against my car, caging me with his arms. He gazed down at me intensely for a moment and I squirmed. Flicking his dark hair out of his eyes, he questioned, “Why are you so awkward around me?” My mouth flapped open. I hadn’t been expecting him to ask that and it wasn’t like I could really answer. What would I say? You make me feel all fluttery inside and want to spill my guts to you. Um, no thank you. “There’s no need to be uncomfortable around me,” he cupped my cheek. I begged to differ. Especially, when he touched me like that. I swallowed thickly as I looked up at him. I really wished he’d take his hand off and stop looking at me. “You remind me of a frightened rabbit,” he chuckled. “Your eyes are wide and you keep jumping. Relax,” his fingers grazed softly over the curve of my cheek, causing my eyes to flutter closed. “Are you…petting me?” I asked, opening my eyes. He grinned, wetting his lips. “I think the term is caressing, Olivia.” “Can you stop?” I begged.

His hand fell away. “I don’t think anyone’s asked me to stop before.” He chuckled, cocking his head. “This is interesting,” he rubbed his stubbled jaw, frowning. “Good,” I crossed my arms over my chest, “your ego needs a blow or two.” “I’m always down for a blow or two…” He smirked. “Not the kind you’re talking about, though,” he laughed. Oh. My. Goodness. He did not say that. My cheeks colored, and my eyes darted to the ground, staring at my Converse. “I was joking, Olivia,” he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I forget that you’re easily embarrassed.” “Do you forget?” I eyed him. “No,” he chuckled, his eyes a light green, “I think you’re cute when you’re nervous.” Before I could reply, a guy was calling his name, and waving him towards the tow truck. “I’ve got to go,” he smiled. “Okay,” I squeaked. He backed away, keeping his eyes on me. “Don’t be nervous on Friday. Okay, Olivia?” He pointed a finger at me. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed around me.” His eyes grew serious as they narrowed. “Uhmm,” I mumbled, turning around, and reaching for the door handle. His chuckle carried through the air. I let out a deep breath when I got into my car. All I had wanted to do, was get in my car, and drive to the restaurant, but of course, Trace had to show up and turn me into a blubbering idiot, once more. Why could I never hold my own around him? I shook my head and started the car. As I backed out and pulled away, I was careful to avoid his intense gaze. Nonetheless, I felt it. During the whole drive to the restaurant, my breath was erratic. Trace had the ability to turn my insides to mush and make me feel completely safe at the same time. It was a lethal combination and he knew how to use it to his advantage. I parked my car and grabbed my wallet out of my backpack. When I stepped inside Chili’s, Avery was pacing back and forth. “There you are!” She exclaimed loudly. “You said ten minutes, Livie! Ten! Not twenty! I’m hungry!” “Shh,” I scolded, embarrassed by her behavior. “Keep it down. You’ll never believe what happened to me.” She stopped her tirade and a slow smile spread across her face. “Now that sounds promising.” “Two?” The hostess asked us. “Yeah,” Avery nodded. “Follow me,” the girl led us through the restaurant, purposely placing us away from everyone, so they wouldn’t have to suffer from Avery’s loudness. “I already know what I want,” Avery moved her menu to the end of the table after we sat down. “So, tell me what happened. I’m dying here.” I shrugged out of my jacket. “I was heading to my car when someone called my name-” “Get to the interesting part,” she urged. I rolled my eyes. “I’m trying to.” “Sorry,” she giggled. “Anyway,” I shook my head. “It was Trace.” “No!” She screamed. “Why was he on campus?” “They were towing some guy’s car,” I ran a finger over the glossy menu. “So, he talked to you, right?” She pressed. I nodded. “You’ll never believe what I asked him, though,” I blushed. “What did you do, Livie?” She shrieked, her hand twitching where it rested on the table. I was sure she wished she could knock some sense into me. “I asked him if he was stalking me,” I mumbled, staring at the tiled tabletop. “Olivia!” She gasped.

“What?!” I exclaimed. “It slipped out! I wasn’t expecting to see him on campus and he surprised me!” Avery shook her head at my stupidity. “You have so much to learn.” “You know what he asked me?” I inserted, tracing a fingernail around the designs on the tile. “What?” She questioned with narrowed green eyes. “He wanted to know why I was so awkward around him,” I bit my lip. “Livie! Really? I need to give you lessons on being normal around guys,” she shook her head, pursing her red lips. “And how would you do that?” I asked. “I’d wear a dildo, of course,” she chuckled. “Avery,” I groaned. The waiter appeared, clearing his throat, and my cheeks colored at knowing he’d heard what Avery said. “What can I get you ladies to drink?” He asked. Avery ordered water and I asked for sweet tea. When he was out of earshot, I hissed, “Can you not say stuff like that when we’re in public?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a free country. I’ll say what I want, when I want.” “Ugh,” I groaned. “So,” she leaned forward, smiling, “you’ve still got your date, on Friday, right?” “It’s not a date!” I cried, banging a closed fist against the table. “Oh, it’s a date,” she smirked. “I hope you have some sexy lingerie hiding underneath your wimple.” “Avery!” “What?” She shrugged. “I didn’t use any bad words.” “How did I end up with you as a best friend?” I asked rhetorically. “It was a match made in heaven,” she giggled. “You tame me…somewhat…and I bring out the naughty in you.” The waiter brought our drinks and we ordered our meal. “If you want me to be honest,” Avery said, taking a sip of her water, “I think Trace is a good guy. I don’t get any weird vibes off him or anything. And girl,” she pointed a finger at me, “I know my vibes. He seems like a good fit for you. As your best friend, it’s my job to steer you away from the wrong guys, and there’s nothing that strikes me as,” she paused, tapping her lip, as she searched for the right word, “worrisome when it comes to Trace. I say, go for it. You’re only young once, it’s time to live it up,” she threw her hands in the air. If only she knew her words had more impact on me, than just pushing me towards Trace. They gave me the final nudge to know that I could tell him about my list. The question was, when?

Friday night, I reluctantly let Avery dress me for my ‘date’ with Trace. I was starting to think I was her personal Barbie doll or something. She let me wear my jeans but paired it with one of her sweaters. Calling it a sweater was kind of pointless though; it was so lightweight it would do nothing to protect me from the cold. It was orange with a pink heart on the front and one on each sleeve. It was cute, but not suitable for the weather. I was going to end up a Popsicle by the time the night was over. “Sit down,” she ordered, pushing me into her rolly chair. “Can’t you ask me nicely?” I grumbled as she pulled on my hair. “I wasn’t asking,” She chuckled, braiding the front pieces of my wavy hair before gathering it into a side bun. Thankfully, I had already done my makeup before she came storming into our dorm room, like a woman on a mission. “You’re good to go,” she gave the chair a nudge. “Oh, wait! Don’t forget these!” She tossed the deathtrap bootie heels at me, the ones I wore when I fell on top of Trace. “I’ll fall,” I grumbled, purposely leaving out the part where I’d be falling again. I hadn’t told Avery that I fell on top of Trace. She’d find it hysterical and then claim that it was a sign from the sex gods that I was meant to ‘fuck’ Trace. “No, you won’t. Don’t be a baby,” she grabbed her phone off the desk. I mumbled something unintelligible, sitting down at my own desk chair, to put the shoes on and ditch my Converse’s. Avery looked me up and down before nodding her consent. “Those shoes make any outfit look ten times hotter.” She was definitely right, but I’d never tell her that. “Get out of here, you’re already late,” she scolded. “Oh, crap,” I looked at the clock on the small nightstand next to my bed. “I’ll see you later,” I told her, heading for the door. “Stay out all night, I don’t care,” she laughed and I turned in time to catch her wink. Rolling my eyes, I left. I held onto the stair railing like it was my life support as I made my way downstairs. Outside, I spotted Trace’s familiar black car. I took a deep breath before heading his way. He eased out of the car and rested his crossed arms over the hood. “Hey,” he grinned, “I thought we could walk to the park but with those,” he eyed my shoes, “my guess is you’re going to say, no way.” “You’ve got that right,” I replied. “I’ve got it,” Trace grinned, coming around the front of the car to open the passenger door before I

could get there. “Thanks,” I smiled up at him as I lowered myself into the car. “No problem,” he mumbled, closing the door. He slid inside, the car rumbling to life with a roar. He exited the campus, turning right, and then right again, at the stoplight. He drove the short distance, turning into the park’s entrance, and then into the parking lot. “I hope you’re hungry,” he commented, reaching into the back of the car for a large paper bag. “Starving,” I inhaled the scent of pasta, wafting from the top of the bag. “Good,” he slid from the car, bag in hand, “because I made enough to feed your entire dorm.” “Wait, you made that?” I asked, hurrying out of the car after him, as fast as I could. Trace stopped walking so that I could catch up to him. I was only five foot two and he towered above me. “That’s what I said,” he grinned cockily. I shook my head in disbelief. “What exactly did you make?” “How about we find a picnic table and then you can find out?” He suggested with a wink. We didn’t walk far, until we veered off the path, and found a table. Trace set the bag down, before sitting on the tabletop, his feet resting on the bench. “Here, I brought you some blankets,” he spread one out over the top of the table so I could sit down beside him and then draped one over my shoulders. Just like the other day, he was wearing jeans, a wife-beater, and plaid shirt; only this one was red instead of green. He reached into the bag and I noticed a tattoo on his wrist. It was small, maybe only an inch, and it was a solid black star. He pulled out several containers full of food, a thermos, two plates, and utensils. “Geez, you’re prepared,” I commented, staring at everything. “Do this often?” “No,” he brushed his dark hair out of his eyes. Flashing me a crooked smile, he added, “Honestly.” I rolled my eyes. “I doubt that.” “To be honest with you, I’ve never done anything like this before,” he waggled a finger between us. “I haven’t always been a…” He floundered. “Nice guy?” I suggested. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I kind of figured that,” I shrugged. “Why?” He tilted his head, brows raised. My cheeks flamed. I waved my hands at him and stuttered, “You’ve got that whole bad boy vibe. The tattoos, the hair, the boots, and that smile! It’s pretty obvious that you’ve left a string of broken hearts.” He chuckled, the sound warm and husky, sending shivers down my spine. “I don’t think it’s that many broken hearts.” Quieting his laughter, he opened one of the containers, and said, “Besides, I’m not that guy anymore. I didn’t like him very much,” he smirked. “Is that a line or something?” I questioned, hugging the blanket closer to my chest as the sun went down, and the air grew cooler. I really hoped Trace wasn’t trying to use me, but I was beginning to question why he was wasting his time with me. I was nothing special. “No,” he handed me the container and I looked down to see a stuffed shell with tomato sauce. It smelled heavenly, the scent of garlic lingering in the air. “Some things happened in my life, that sent me in a different direction, but now, I’m on the right path and I plan to stay on it.” “Wow, that was deep,” I laughed. “Are you laughing at me?” He feigned anger. “Yes,” I stifled a giggle. “So,” I dug my fork into the pasta shell, “what was it that caused you to stray off your path?” He sighed, looking out into the trees. “You know how the other day you didn’t want to talk about something?” “Yeah,” my brows furrowed. “Well, I don’t really want to talk about it,” his green eyes had darkened so that they shone like emeralds. “Oh, okay, it’s no big deal,” I took a bite of the stuffed pasta shell and moaned in pleasure.

“One day, I hope to tell you, but not today,” he shrugged, “just like one day I hope you’ll tell me why your smile’s so sad but how you still manage to have this sparkle in your eye.” I started to choke on the pasta. I did the whole coughing-sputtering thing and no doubt my face turned an unattractive shade of red. Swallowing a sip of the sweet tea he’d poured into the lid of the thermos, I asked, “Why do you say my smile is sad?” “Because it is. You smile like you’ve been hurt and you’re just holding the pain inside, not letting it go, but you want to…you definitely want to be free,” he pointed to me, “and that’s where the sparkle comes from.” I tried to get my breathing back to normal after nearly choking to death. I was completely shocked by what Trace said. Most people didn’t notice the pain that I kept carefully hidden, and the fact that Trace had picked up on it so quickly, blew my mind. I didn’t think he’d noticed much about me. Apparently, he was far more observant than I gave him credit for. I knew it was silly, since I didn’t know him, but I found myself wanting to open up to him, and tell him everything. It wasn’t like I really had that much to tell and I felt like I had to tell someone. “My dad,” I whispered. “Huh?” He asked, wiping tomato sauce from his lip. I took a deep breath to steady myself. It wasn’t like this was some big secret. My dad didn’t abuse me…at least not physically, but I always found it hard to talk to people about him. I felt like they always thought I was making it up, since he was a preacher and supposed to be all about God, kindness, and whatnot. “My dad, he’s the reason I’m sad,” I answered. “He’s very controlling. That’s why I came here for college, instead of staying in New Hampshire. I needed to get away, and find myself, but I haven’t been doing a very good job,” I chuckled humorlessly, plucking at an invisible piece of lint on my jeans. “I don’t know why I’ve let it bother me so much,” I shrugged. “It was just hard, growing up and always being told what to do, what to say, and how to dress. I was expected to be the perfect child and my mom the perfect mother, while he was the perfect preacher, father, and husband. But he’s none of those things,” I sneered, shaking my head. “He’s mean and a bully. Maybe it was selfish, and maybe it was weak, but I had to get away. I have to try to find who I am, but what if I can’t?” I looked over at Trace. “What if I’m just this broken girl that can never be put back together? What if I can never find who I really am?” I took a shaky breath, shocked that I had told him all of that. Maybe, it was easier to tell him because he was a stranger, and I didn’t fear his judgment. “Whoa,” Trace’s eyes widened, “that’s some tough shit.” “Tell me about it,” I shuffled my feet along the bench and took another bite of the delicious pasta shell. “I know a lot of people have to deal with a lot worse, so I feel bad complaining about it,” I shrugged, looking away from his inquisitive gaze. “Olivia,” he grabbed my chin in his calloused hand and forced me to look at him, “it sounds to me like your father verbally abused you, and that’s not something to be taken lightly. That’s very serious, and people tend to overlook it, because it’s not always as noticeable.” “It doesn’t matter now,” I smoothed my hands over my jeans. I wished he’d let go of my chin, because I was starting to feel warm inside, and pretty soon, I’d be begging him not to let go. “Of course it matters, you’ve obviously been hurt by it,” he finally released me. Unconsciously, my fingers went to the piece of paper in my jeans that contained my Live List. I never went anywhere without it. “Olivia,” he murmured when I remained quiet, “I know you don’t know me that well, and you have no reason to trust me, but you can.” I looked over at him, expecting his signature cocky grin, but it was missing. He was completely serious, and his green eyes were warm, inviting me to tell him everything. Could I do it? I had told him about my dad, but could I really tell him about my list? I’d never shared it with anyone and it had almost become sacred to me. For some reason I trusted Trace. Which was odd. People should earn your trust and I hadn’t known Trace long enough for that to happen. But I did trust him. There was something about him that made me feel…safe. It was a feeling I wasn’t used to. He was right though. I didn’t know him that well. So, I had no idea why I was telling him everything. I refused to tell him about my list though. I wasn’t ready.

But my fingers had a mind of their own, pulling it out, and folding it into the palm of my hand. Trace’s eyes zeroed in on the piece of paper clenched in my hand and I knew there was no going back now. Even though I was tempted to stuff it back in my pocket and run away. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, shivering from fear and not the cool October night. The things on my list were silly, none of them important, but they were things I had always wanted to do. I was beyond afraid that Trace would laugh in my face, and I honestly wouldn’t blame him if he did. Trace grew quiet as he watched me work through my inner turmoil. I pushed down the scared girl I was on the surface and plastered on the face of a confident woman. I could do this. I could show Trace my list. It was time someone besides me knew its contents. “There’s something I want to show you,” I whispered. “What is it?” He asked, still looking at my hand. “It’s a list…a list of all the things I want to do,” I answered, nervously fiddling with the piece of paper. “Okay,” his brows drew together. “Like a bucket list?” “No,” I whispered, “I call it my Live List. It has nothing to do with dying.” “Okay,” he repeated, “what’s on it?” Slowly, I unfurled the folded pieces. I stared down at the list in my hand. No one but me had ever seen these words, and now, I was about to hand it to someone who was practically a stranger. I couldn’t explain what drew me to Trace and what made me trust him. Frankly, I didn’t care. I had written my Live List the day before I left for college. Growing up in the household that I did, I was expected to be perfect. There were so many things that I wasn’t allowed to do. I vowed to live my life once I wasn’t stuck under my father’s roof. This list was the only form of rebellion I had. I never thought I would do any of the things on the list, even though I wanted to. I only made it for fun. I read through it again before I handed it to him.

Get drunk Fly in a hot air balloon Go to the carnival Go to a concert (even if it’s someone I’ve never heard of) Go to a party Lose my virginity Dance in the rain Go roller skating See the ocean Learn to paint Get a dog…or a cat…or a rabbit. Any pet will do. Sing in front of real people. Avery doesn’t count. Make more friends Shoot a gun Smoke Get a tattoo Learn to pole dance Go skinny dipping Pierce my belly button Fall in love “Here’s my list,” I handed it to Trace. “Feel free to laugh,” I sighed, even though I hoped he didn’t.

Those things had seemed so important when I made this list and now they seemed so silly. Trace’s eyes scanned over the wrinkled piece of paper. “You’ve never been to a carnival? Or a concert?” His piercing green eyes met mine. “No,” I shook my head. “My dad wouldn’t allow it.” “Not even roller skating?” He asked in disbelief. “No,” I laughed. “I might have fallen and ended up with my legs in the air and my dad says that’s not a respectable position for a lady.” Trace snorted. “Well,” he said, “you’ve got four things crossed off. The first three are…well…” I blushed, knowing exactly what those three things were. “Yeah,” I groaned. “I kind of crossed those three off in one night.” “Really?” He raised a brow. “Yeah,” I laughed. “Avery dragged me to a party my first week here. There was beer, so naturally I had to try it, which led me to get drunk and thinking having sex with a stranger was a good idea. It was in the bathroom and it only lasted like two minutes. It wasn’t really pleasant. I don’t know why people seem to like sex so much.” “Olivia,” he tilted my chin up, the green of his eyes searing my very soul. “I can assure you that sex can be very, very, good…when it’s with the right person,” his thumb brushed my bottom lip, sending a shiver down my spine. “And,” he leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear, the stubble on his cheeks grazing my sensitive skin, “I also know with firsthand experience, that it can last a lot longer than two minutes.” He pulled away and grinned knowingly at me. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I looked away from Trace, trying not to think about performing the horizontal tango with him and wondering exactly how long it would last. I bet sex with Trace would be amazing. Olivia! Stop! He’s your friend! I scolded myself. Or not really your friend, but still! Stop it! “So,” Trace began, “you got your belly button pierced?” He waggled his eyebrows, staring at my shirt. “Yep,” I rolled my eyes. Boys. “Show me,” he grinned cockily. I knew Trace didn’t think I would, so that’s exactly why I pulled my shirt up, making sure the bottom edge of my bra showed. “Damn,” Trace whistled, and he definitely wasn’t looking at the piercing in my belly button. “Are you staring at my boobs?” I asked with a smile and laugh in my voice, hoping he didn’t notice the blush spreading up my chest, to my neck, and cheeks. I knew he was, but I wanted to hear him say it. Trace ducked his head, his eyes landing on my stomach, before flicking away. “Sorry about that.” Boldly, I said, “I’m not.” Whoa girl! Where did that come from? I had never said or done anything like that in my life…which was pretty sad, because that was tame compared to what most people did. Trace grinned and went back to inspecting my list. “So, you want to learn to pole dance?” I blushed at one of the more daring ventures I had scribbled down. “I’ve heard it’s great exercise.” Trace flashed me his cocky grin, “And it’s great viewing pleasure for men.” I pushed his shoulder and he laughed, but from the expression on his face, I knew he was imagining me shimming up and down a pole. Hopefully, I was doing a good job in his mind, because I knew that if I did cross that one off my list, I’d probably bruise my butt in the process. “These are definitely doable,” he scanned over the list once more. I was relieved that Trace hadn’t laughed at me and took my list seriously. “I want you to help me cross all of these off,” the words tumbled out of my mouth. “I know you don’t know me that well, but I’ve been too scared to do them on my own. I don’t want to be scared anymore, Trace,” I bit my lip to stop the floodgate of words I was spewing. “Of course I’ll help you,” he responded immediately, not even giving it a second thought. It had become obvious to me that he was just that kind of guy, always willing to help. He kept reading over my list, and I swallowed, wanting to snatch the piece of paper from his hands so he would stop scrutinizing it. “Can I keep this?” He asked. No! I wanted to scream. But instead, the word that left my lips, was, “Sure.” “Thanks,” he grinned, tucking it into his left breast pocket. I looked down at the half eaten dinner sitting in my lap, looking pitiful in its container. I really hoped

he couldn’t see how badly I was freaking out. Now, not only had I told him about my father and my list, but I was letting him keep it? Had my common sense taken a hike? This was only the fifth time I had seen Trace and I was telling him things that even Avery didn’t know! “It’s getting late,” Trace commented. I looked up and realized night had descended upon us. The sky was clear, thousands of stars gazing down upon us. They were so magical with the way they sparkled in the sky. When I was little, I always thought it looked like they were winking at me. I found myself setting the food aside, and leaning back on the table, my legs dangling. Trace did the same, cupping the back of his head with one hand. “They’re so pretty,” I whispered, reaching a hand up like I could capture one of those white shimmering dots in my hand. “It amazes me that the stars we’re looking at right now, could actually be dead, but because it takes so long for their light to reach the Earth they’re still shining for us.” “It’s an amazing world we live in,” he murmured, his free arm brushing mine. My heart thundered in my chest. Keep it cool, Olivia! I scolded myself. I gasped when I saw a shooting star. “Oh my God! I’ve never seen a shooting star before!” “Make a wish then,” he whispered, turning on his side to face me, propping his elbow on the table, and his head in his hand. I closed my eyes and wished for everything, anything, and nothing at all.

It had been two weeks since I had seen Trace in person, but we were constantly texting. Every time a text from him popped up on my phone, I smiled goofily, or at least that’s what Avery told me. I wasn’t sure if she could be trusted though, because she was miffed that she hadn’t heard from Luca. “Seriously,” she whined for the thousandth time today, “why hasn’t he called or text me?” “Avery,” I laughed, spinning around in my chair to face her, where she sat on her bed. “I have never seen you so worked up over a guy before.” “He was amazing, Olivia! I’ve never kissed anyone like that before! Excuse me if I want to see what else he has to offer!” I snickered quietly. “I’m seeing Trace tomorrow. I can ask him about Luca, if you want me to.” “You are? And you would do that for me?” Her eyes sparkled to life. I hid my giggle. Normally, Avery would have told me that asking a guy’s best friend about him was breaking the dating code, but obviously she was getting desperate. “Yep,” I replied to her first question. I had no idea what we’d be doing though. All Trace had told me was that we’d be crossing something off my list. Unfortunately, that sounded ominous to me, because he could have picked any of the sixteen things left. “And of course I would do that for you. That’s what best friends are for.” She nibbled on her fingernail. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to seem desperate.” I hated to inform her, but she had passed desperate a long time ago. “You won’t seem desperate,” I replied, because that was the nice, best-friend thing to say. “No, no,” she shook her head, a grin spreading across her face. “I have a better idea.” “Oh Lord,” I muttered, turning back to my computer, and the homework that wasn’t going to do itself. “With that smile, I’m a bit worried for Luca’s wellbeing.” “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” she giggled behind me. “After all, I need all his parts in tact and in perfect working order for what I want to do. I just need to find a really short skirt and some ‘fuck me’ heels. No guy can resist that.” I knew there was no point in scolding her or trying to talk her out of whatever her plan was. “Have fun plotting,” I muttered. “I need to finish this,” I pointed to my computer. “Mhmm,” she mumbled, already scheming poor Luca’s demise. He didn’t stand a chance against whatever Avery was coming up with. When she set her sights on a guy, she didn’t give up, which is why I found it odd that she had waited this long for him to take action. Maybe she really did like him. I looked over my shoulder at her as she typed away on her laptop; her long hair fell around her like a curtain and her red lips were pursed. This was definitely an interesting development.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I begged, peering out the windshield of Trace’s car. “No,” he snorted, “if I’m going to help you cross these things off, we do it on my terms, which means you’ll never know which one we’re doing.” I swallowed thickly, starting to regret that I told him about my list. I didn’t like the idea of not knowing what thing I would be doing. He could’ve picked anything. There were some I could easily eliminate though. Like riding in a hot air balloon…or skinny-dipping…or falling in love. But that still left too many possibilities for my liking. I rang my fingers together, nibbling on my bottom lip nervously. I knew I shouldn’t be nervous, it wasn’t like he was making me do anything that I didn’t want to do. I mean, I’m the one that made the stupid list! “You look really pale,” he commented. “I do?” I squeaked, looking over at him. “Don’t worry, I’m taking it easy on you. We’re doing one of the simpler things,” he explained, but I still didn’t feel any better. “It’s okay, Olivia,” he added, comfortingly. “I just don’t like not knowing which one I’m doing,” I whispered, picking at my chipped blue nail polish. “Hey,” he said softly, tugging on the beanie he was wearing, with one hand, “you made the list. You said that every single one is something that you want to do. It’ll be fine.” “You’re right,” I swallowed, “I’m freaking out over nothing.” Trace exited off of the Interstate and onto Route 7. His change of direction still didn’t give me a clue as to where we were headed. I was tempted to sit on my hands so I would stop fidgeting. I didn’t like feeling this antsy. Trace came to a stoplight, turning on his left blinker. I bit down on my lip so that I didn’t ask him where we were going again. “Hey,” he grabbed one of my hands, steadying the dance it had been doing across my leg. “This is an easy one, no strip poles, or skinny dipping is about to go down. Relax.” Sadly, I still wasn’t relaxed. “Olivia,” he glanced at me, out of the corner of his eye, and released my hand, “you trusted me with your list and you can trust me now.” He had a point. I nodded. “Okay. You’re right,” I conceded, but my nerves didn’t ease. The stoplight turned green and he drove a short ways, passing a strip mall, and Dodge dealership on the left. He turned suddenly onto an unmarked dirt road. I gripped the side of the car, holding on, and he chuckled at me. I glared across the car at the side of his face. “You could’ve warned me!” “And where’s the fun in that?” He peered at me through his aviator sunglasses, his cheeks and chin covered in stubble. I grumbled something unintelligible, only serving to entertain him further. We came to a stop in front of a large rectangular building. My eyes lit upon the words, skating rink, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Trace removed his sunglasses, beanie, and leather jacket. Underneath his jacket, he wore a light blue plaid shirt, buttoned about halfway up his chest, and a white wife-beater underneath. I was beginning to think all he owned were plaid shirts. I had yet to see him in anything else. “What?” He asked, looking down at his shirt. “Is there something on it? I swear, I got it out of the clean clothes pile,” he grumbled, picking at the bottom edge of the shirt, looking for a stain. “Nothing’s on it,” I promised, “I was just thinking about how you only wear plaid shirts.” He grinned, letting his shirt fall back in place. “I like plaid.” “I can tell,” I laughed. “I also,” he leaned close to me, which wasn’t hard in his car, and his breath skimmed across my bare collarbone, “really like these shoes you keep wearing.” His fingers grazed over my knee and I held my

breath so I didn’t start hyperventilating. “They’re Avery’s,” I squeaked, “but she gave them to me.” “You’ll have to thank her for me,” he whispered, brushing my hair off my shoulder, and my pulse accelerated. “Mhmm, I can do that,” my eyes followed his fingers as they skimmed down my neck. He leaned even closer, and I thought this was it, he’s going to kiss me. But instead, he grinned cockily, and slid back to his side of the car. “We’ve got some roller skating to do.” I squished my eyes closed and took a deep breath. Damn him for getting me all worked up like that. It wasn’t fair. When I opened my eyes, he was already out of the car, and closing the door. I scurried after him as fast as I could. He held the door for me and I followed him to where we paid for our skates. Luckily, I outsmarted him by cutting in front of him, to pay for my own roller skates. “That won’t happen again,” he whispered in my ear as we walked away from the counter. “I’m onto you,” he narrowed his eyes as he walked backwards, passed me. I sat down on a bench and pulled off my shoes, then realized, I didn’t have socks. I sighed in disgust. “I’m not wearing socks and that’s not exactly something I carry around in my purse,” I grumbled, glaring at my bare feet, and then at the skates I knew were far from sanitary. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered,” Trace winked, sitting down beside me, and handing me a pair of socks. “They’re clean but they’ll be a little big on you.” “I’ll make do,” I smiled gratefully at him, taking the wadded up ball of socks from his hand. “I hope you’re prepared to handle my suckiness.” I looked out onto the rink where a group of teenagers was skating. It was clear they knew what they were doing and that scared me further. I’d fall flat on my butt as soon as I set foot on the rink. “That’s what the beginner’s rink is for,” he pointed to a different rink on our right. It was full of small children and their parents. “Great,” I rolled my eyes. “This is going to be wonderful.” “You’re the one that wanted to do it, so stop complaining,” he bent to lace up his skates. “We’ll have fun and I won’t let you fall.” He was probably right. I wouldn’t fall. Why? Because I’d be crawled halfway up his body, holding on for dear life. I had put roller-skating on my list, because I’d always wanted to do it when I was younger. Now, looking at the four wheels on the bottom of the skates and the slippery wood floor, I didn’t think it was a good idea. I had already proven myself to be clumsy around Trace, and this would make it worse. “Ready?” He asked me. There was nothing I could do to stall. “Yeah,” I mumbled reluctantly. Trace held out a hand for me and I placed mine in it. His hand was warm and rough from hard work. “I won’t let you go,” he promised, guiding me across the carpeted floor. This wasn’t so bad, but I knew the carpet was giving me false hope. Trace stepped onto the rink first and my heart began to race in fear. I did not want to fall and bruise my butt. Not only would I embarrass myself, but I’d also be sore. “You can trust me,” he coaxed. His green eyes were encouraging. I placed one foot onto the hardwood rink and immediately felt myself slip. I reached out, grabbing the half-wall that separated the rink, from the carpeted area. “Olivia,” Trace warned. I whimpered, letting go of the wall, and latched onto his arm. I’m sure we looked strange, with him holding my left hand in his right, and me gripping his right forearm. Trace made a face as my nails dug into his skin. “I told you, I won’t let you fall,” he looked into my eyes. “Relax,” he added, soothingly. Unwillingly, I let go of his arm. I instantly felt even more off balance.

Why on Earth had I ever wanted to go roller-skating? I think I’d rather be pole dancing! I held onto Trace’s hand like…well, like it was the only thing holding me up, which it was. “It’s okay, Olivia,” he squeezed my hand, studying my tense face. I’m sure I looked like someone who just spotted a giant ass spider, but I couldn’t wipe the look of fear off my face. I hated that Trace was seeing me freak out like this. He didn’t know me well, and I didn’t want him to think I was a scaredy cat…which I was. But my father had made me that way, by sheltering me so much. Things that seemed normal to most people were completely foreign to me. I eased off a bit on the death grip I had on his hand. He smiled encouragingly. I looked at the children around us. For most of them, this was probably the first time they’d been roller-skating. If they could do this without holding onto their moms and dads, then I could do this without hanging onto Trace. I let his hand slip from mine and began to wobble. His large hands clasped me by the waist before I could fall. “I’ve got you,” he hummed, his chest pressed against my back. I smiled in relief even though he couldn’t see. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I told you I wouldn’t let you fall and I meant it. I’m a man of my word, Olivia,” he murmured and my stomach fluttered. I had been attracted to plenty of guys over the years. I even had a few schoolyard crushes like everyone else. But no one had ever made me feel the way Trace did. The nerves and heart fluttering I felt around him were entirely new. “How does this feel, Olivia?” He asked, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Like freedom,” I smiled, closed my eyes, and let him guide me.

Trace didn’t make me skate for long, which I was grateful for. It was okay, but I didn’t like it that much. Maybe, if I had tried it when I was younger I would have enjoyed it, but not now. He helped me back to the carpeted area and I sat down on the nearest bench, yanking off the skates. “You did good for a first timer,” Trace grinned, mussing his hair. I laughed. Who was he trying to fool? “I’m pretty sure I drew blood from squeezing your arm. I don’t call that good,” I peered up at him. He sat next to me and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Sure enough, there were five, very red, half-moon indents. A trickle of blood had escaped one of the marks and dried on his arm. “Told ya,” I picked up the skates and headed to where I’d left my shoes. Trace followed behind me, his skates dangling from his fingers. “I still think you did good,” he stated and I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye. “You’re such a liar,” I scolded him, sitting down to put my shoes on. He smirked, his lips upturned on one corner. “Okay, maybe I am, but I’m not lying now.” I rolled my eyes and wadded up Trace’s socks. “I’ll wash these before I give them back,” I tried to put them in my purse, which I had grabbed from the cubby my shoes had been in, but Trace reached out and snagged them from me. “I know how to work a washing machine, Olivia,” he grinned. “I promise,” he added. “I even know how to add fabric softener. Smell, it’s Mountain Spring,” he said sarcastically, holding the end of his shirt under my nose. “Fine, wash them,” I stood. “It’s not like they’re dirty from my feet or anything.” “I’m not afraid of your dirty socks, Olivia,” he grinned, leaning against the wall. His green eyes sparkled with carefully contained laughter. “Technically they’re your dirty socks,” I walked over to the counter to return the roller skates. “Ah,” he followed after me, “they may be my socks, but you’re the one that dirtied them.” “Why are we still talking about socks?” I stopped, throwing my hands in the air, and he ran into me. “I told you that I would wash them.” “I like messing with you,” he made his way around me, sauntering cockily up to the counter and

dropping his skates loudly. I returned my skates as well and followed Trace out the door. He made sure to hold each door for me and I thought it was sweet. Back in the car, he slipped his beanie on and perched his sunglasses atop his elegant nose. I clasped my hands together so that I wouldn’t reach over and run my fingers along the stubble grazing his jaw. “I’m hungry,” he announced. “Okaaay,” I drew out the word. “Wanna go to Sonic?” He asked, and I remembered passing one before we got here. “Sure,” I shrugged. “I’ve never been there.” His jaw dropped. “You’ve never been to Sonic?” “Nope, never. I don’t think there were very many in New Hampshire,” I explained. “Plus, my dad wouldn’t let us eat out. We always had home cooked meals.” Trace looked at me like I had spoken a foreign language. “There are so many things I need to show you. You haven’t experienced anything.” I blushed at his words and hid my face behind the curtain of my hair. “Don’t do that,” he murmured, reaching up to brush my long hair behind my ear, “Never hide your face from me.” My breath came out in short gasps. He’d said something similar the day he took me to lunch. He smoothed his thumb over my cheek and let his hand drop.

“This, is Sonic?” I asked, looking around the parking space he’d pulled into, that was surrounded on both sides by a menu. Other cars were parked in different spots, all with the same setup. “Yep,” he grinned, turning off his car, and manually rolling down his window. “This is weird,” I glanced at the two different menus. Trace chuckled and I whipped my head in his direction. “What?” I snapped. “Your face is priceless,” he snickered. “This is kind of overwhelming,” I looked from the menu on his side of the car and back to the one on mine. “Relax, it’s really not. This is the food menu,” he explained, pointing to the menu on his side, “breakfast, lunch, desert, the whole shebang. That one,” he pointed to the one beside me, “is just for promotional stuff.” “Oh,” I nodded, feeling relieved. I tended to overreact whenever I was presented with something new. I leaned towards Trace, careful not to touch him, so I could read the menu. “You have to try their tater tots, they’re the best,” he commented. I scooted back to my side of the car. “Just order me whatever you’re having.” “You sure?” He raised a brow. “I’m not picky,” I smiled. “Okay,” he hesitated for a moment, before pushing the red button, and waiting for someone to respond. After he ordered our food, I looked over at him and probed, “Tell me something about yourself. You know about my dad and my list, but I really don’t know anything about you. That doesn’t seem fair.” He grinned, flashing only a small amount of his straight white teeth. “What do you want to know?” “Anything you want me to know,” I relaxed into the seat. “Hmm,” he mused, “I have a little brother, Trent. He’s seventeen and a senior in high school. We’re close despite the fact that I’m five years older.” “So, you’re twenty-two?” I asked. “Someone knows their math,” he joked. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?” I pestered, curious to find out more about Trace. I had opened myself up to him, for some reason, and I wanted him to do the same with me. I wanted to know the real man behind the cocky panty-dropping smile. He grew quiet and I could hear the wheels turning in his head. He snapped his fingers and grinned. “I like to dance.”

“Dance?” I questioned, my brows raised. Trace didn’t strike me as a dancer. “Yeah,” he replied, “I suck at it, but I enjoy it. I dance while I work on cars, I dance while I cook, you never know when it’s gonna happen.” I put a hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh, as I pictured Trace dancing in the middle of the grocery store, or some other odd place. “That’s very—uh—interesting,” I giggled. “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to know something about me,” he shrugged, with his residual smirk. “Right you are,” I smiled as a girl appeared on Trace’s side of the car, with a tray full of food, and drinks. Trace sat up, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. I didn’t even bother fumbling through my purse for mine. I knew Trace wouldn’t accept any money for my meal. Stubborn man. He took the food and drinks, placing them on the bench seat in his car. He handed her a bill and waved her away. “Raspberry tea for the lady,” he handed me a Styrofoam cup. Since there were no cup holders, I held it between my knees. “Tater tots and a hotdog,” he placed the items on the seat with a wad of napkins, before pulling out identical items for himself. “And,” he pointed to the two extra cups, “these are our desert.” “What is it? A chocolate shake?” I inspected the top of it. Trace grimaced. “No, it’s a chocolate malt. There’s a big difference. Prepare to have your world rocked,” he chuckled, ripping open a packet of ketchup, and dumping it on his tater tots. “Want some?” He held up another packet. I shook my head. “I hate ketchup.” He gasped. “How is it possible to hate ketchup? It’s one of the single most delicious food items ever.” “It’s gross,” I glared at the red goo covering his tater tots. “Suit yourself,” he popped one in his mouth. I happily ate a plain, non-ketchup drenched, tater tot, and Trace chuckled. “You are one interesting girl, Olivia Owens,” he commented, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Interesting is always better than boring,” I smiled, biting into the hotdog. “This is really good,” I pointed to the food. He stretched his arm along the bench seat. “Told ya.” We finished eating and stayed parked to drink our chocolate malts. It was thick but delicious. Trace kept smiling at me as I drank the malt. “What?” I asked. “Nothing,” he grinned, shaking his head. His dark hair fell over his green eyes and he promptly pushed it back. “No, you’re thinking something,” I insisted. “Tell me.” “It’s just…who would’ve thought that the girl I stopped to help with her flat tire, would be sitting in my car right now. I’m just…I’m glad I met you,” he shrugged. “I’m glad I met you too,” I smiled. He grinned cockily. “I’m sure you are.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re so cocky.” “No, I’m confident. There’s a big difference in confident and cocky,” he winked, taking the straw into his mouth, and my eyes followed the movement of his lips. Those lips should be illegal and I hadn’t even had a taste yet. I blushed at my thoughts and turned away from him. “Why do you do that?” Trace asked, perplexed. “Do what?” I questioned, reluctantly turning to face him. “Blush and then look away. I know you’re still blushing even if I can’t see you,” he leaned against the driver’s side door to face me fully. “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I guess it’s a defense mechanism.” “Why do you need to be defensive about blushing? It’s a perfectly normal reaction,” he licked a drop of chocolate malt from his lip and my heart stuttered in my chest. I took a deep breath and stuck my finger into the whipped cream. “You don’t understand the kind of home I grew up in,” I reasoned, licking off the whipped cream. His green eyes darkened as he watched my finger. I blushed again. I wished I could turn off the

blushing, but around Trace my cheeks seemed to have a permanent rosy hue. “Then make me understand,” he insisted. “Not today,” I sighed. “I’m having a good time and I don’t want to ruin it by talking about things that I wish would stay in the past.” “Fair enough,” he grinned, changing the subject by talking about random things, like music and favorite colors. I liked how Trace understood when not to push me. He would let me tell him about myself on my terms. It was nice not having someone trying to pry information out of me. I smiled the rest of the afternoon we spent together and even late into the night. Not even grumpy Avery could sour my mood.

“Where are you going?” Avery asked, pushing away from her desk as I headed towards the door. “I have plans with Trace. I’m supposed to meet him at the garage. He gets off work soon,” I explained, lifting my purse onto my shoulder. “Oh,” she frowned. “Still upset over Luca?” I asked. “No,” she answered hastily, turning away from me. “You are,” I grinned. She turned back around and my smile faded. Avery truly was hurt. “I just…I thought I understood men, but Luca seems to be entirely different. I can’t read him at all,” she shrugged, playing with the ends of her hair. “Normally, I know when a guy’s into me, but with Luca, I’m clueless. I can’t tell whether he hates me, tolerates me, or actually likes me. He doesn’t say much,” she mused. I felt bad for her, I did, but I also found her situation funny too, because it wasn’t like her to be this… worked up over a guy. Avery’s confidence level was through the roof, but something about Luca made her…insecure. “Maybe that’s because you’re too busy kissing each other to carry on a conversation,” I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest. Avery had finally met up with Luca, and apparently, they’d ended up doing the deed on the hood of his car. At least, that’s what Trace told me, because he said he walked in on them. Avery had told me nothing, which was unusual. Normally, she told me everything, even the gory details that I had no desire to hear. I was really starting to think she had feelings for Luca, which made me all kinds of excited. I wanted Avery to find a guy she loved and stop fooling around. She needed to learn that someone could truly care about her for her. I knew from what she had told me that her parents were wealthy, and had only looked at her and her brothers as an accessory. Which led her to believe that no one could ever love or want her. “That could be it,” she laughed. “But I have tried to talk to him before and he gives me grunts for answers.” I snorted. “He’s a total caveman,” she giggled, “but I kinda like that about him. Plus, he has these big man hands, and you know I love me some man hands.” “Avery, you’re something else,” I laughed. “I’ve really got to go though, can we talk later?” “Sure,” she spun in her chair. I swear, one day I was going to find a way to mess up that chair, so it couldn’t twirl. “I don’t have any plans for tonight. I’ll just be here, all by myself, while my so-called best friend ditches me for a hot piece of ass.” “Bye,” I called over my shoulder, rolling my eyes.

“Have fun, Livie!” She hollered as I closed the door. I let out a sigh of relief, dashed down the steps, and out of the building. I walked quickly to my car, holding on tightly to the mace on my keychain. You never knew when a creeper could pop up. I giggled to myself as I got in my car; I certainly hadn’t been reaching for the mace when Trace pulled up behind me. Shaking my head, I drove to Pete’s Garage, and parked beside Trace’s car. I walked around to the front of the building. The large garage door was open, exactly like when I’d been here to get my car fixed. Music was playing loudly, the lyrics saying something about blowing the roof off the place. I stepped inside, looking around, hoping that Trace didn’t scare me like last time. I walked around a car and saw him. He was completely oblivious to me, and I put my hand over my mouth, to stifle my giggle. He was dancing like…well…there were no words to describe Trace’s dancing style. It was interesting to say the least. In fact, I wasn’t sure if it could be considered dancing. He held a metal car part in his hands while shaking his whole body. This was not dancing; it was more like a seizure. I kept my mouth covered so that I could watch him longer. It would be cute if it wasn’t so funny. He hadn’t been lying when he said he liked to dance, but he was right when he said he sucked. The man had no rhythm whatsoever. He turned and spotted me. And holy hell, I had been too taken by the dancing to notice he was shirtless. Shirtless and coated in a sheen of sweat. I had never seen a man’s chest like Trace’s. It was lean and tan, but muscular, just like his arms. A light dusting of dark hair started at the bottom of his naval, and disappeared under the edge of his boxers, that I spied above the edge of his jeans. I covered my eyes and turned around like I had caught him naked. I was the epitome of smooth. Not. His chuckle rumbled through my body and I let my hand drop. Slowly, I turned back around to face him. He’d turned the music down, and leaned against the car he was working on, grinning cheekily at me. “You’re early,” he pushed his hair out of his eyes. I was discovering it was a nervous habit for him. “And you’re naked,” the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. His smile grew. “I’m not quite naked yet, but if you’d like to help me get there, that’s fine by me.” Oh. My. God. “I’m kidding, Olivia,” he added when I stood there with a stunned look on my face. “You’re definitely a preacher’s daughter,” he commented. “But you’re going to have to get used to my sexual innuendos if you’re going to spend time with me. I can’t help myself.” Lord, help me. Please. “Got it,” I replied awkwardly. My parents really should have made Awkward my middle name. It suited me better than Camille. Olivia Awkward Owens, it had a nice ring to it. Trace wiped his hands on his jeans, and moved around the front of the car, with the part he’d been dancing with. I followed him, watching as he fiddled easily with the car parts. It looked complicated to me, but he made it seem easy. “I’m almost done here,” he glanced over his shoulder at me. “And then we’ll cross off something else.” “Uhmm,” I replied, trying not to look at his muscular back, and the way his muscles rippled as he worked on the car. Why did he have to be so good looking? I turned away, bobbing my head to the music. I needed to stop thinking about how good he looked. He was my…friend and it was wrong to have these kinds of thoughts about him. “Alright, I’m done for now,” Trace announced and I spun back around. “The owner won’t be by to pick it up till tomorrow night, so I have time to finish it,” he shrugged.

“Are you sure?” I asked, taping the toe of my right heel on the concrete floor. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he grinned. A noise sounded at the front of the garage and I turned rapidly. The sudden movement caused me to lose my balance and I started to fall. “Whoa,” Trace grabbed my arm to steady me. “Sorry,” I mumbled, fiddling with a strand of hair. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Luca mumbled in his deep voice. He was dressed much like he was the first time I saw him. Jeans, vest, and a fedora. Apparently Luca and Trace stuck to very rigid dress codes. Except when Trace was making me drool by not wearing a shirt, although, he was definitely drool-worthy fully clothed. Luca pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. I wasn’t sure if he ever actually smoked one, they seemed to be a part of the whole look he was going for. I still hadn’t figured out what the vests meant though. A grin spread across Trace’s face, and he grabbed me by the hand, dragging me over to Luca. “Looks like we can cross two things off tonight,” he smirked. “Huh?” I was confused. “Luca, give me one of those,” Trace held his hand out for a cigarette. “But you don’t smoke,” Luca grumbled, “and these are expensive.” “Luca,” Trace groaned. “Just do it.” Luca mumbled something unintelligible but handed over a cigarette. “Lighter,” Trace continued to hold out his hand. Luca slapped the lighter into his palm. “I expect that back.” Trace led me outside and released my hand. It was chilly outside, in the forties, but Trace was still shirtless. I was sure he was doing it on purpose because his bare chest was all kinds of distracting. “Here,” he handed me the cigarette. I glanced down at it, perplexed. “You put smoking on your list so stop looking at it like it’s going to bite you,” he told me. “I don’t know how to hold it,” I explained. “Oh, like this,” he fixed my fingers around the slender white cigarette. He motioned for me to hold it up and I did. He lit the end of it and waited for me to do something. “I don’t know what to do!” I exclaimed, terrified that the thing was going to burn my fingers. Trace chuckled and motioned for me to bring it up to my lips. “Just inhale.” I did and it was horrible. Smoke flooded my lungs and I felt like I was being suffocated. I dropped the cigarette and Trace stomped on it to snuff it out. Coughing, I gasped, “That was horrible.” My eyes watered and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Either I’d done it wrong or other people were nuts for sucking on those things. It was awful. “You okay?” Trace asked. “I’ll be fine,” I wiped my eyes and struggled for air. I couldn’t get the horrible taste out of my mouth. Trace took my hand, and led me to the other side of the building, the side I had never been on, and up a flight of steps. He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “This is my place,” he explained, leading me inside, and straight into a small kitchen area. He grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to me. I swirled the water around my mouth and spit it out in the sink. I did that several times before rinsing out his sink. “Better?” He asked, leaning a hip against the linoleum countertop. “Much,” I smiled. “But I am never doing that again.” He laughed. “I figured you wouldn’t.” “Why do people like that?” I asked, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. “Beats me,” he shrugged. “My grandpa used to smoke a pipe all the time, and let me tell you, that thing smelled horrible.”

I finished off the bottle of water. Trace took it from me, and tossed it in a recycling bin, then handed me another. “I’m going to shower,” he nodded towards the door that led to the bathroom, “and then we can get out of here.” “‘Gonna tell me what we’re doing?” I coaxed. “Nope,” he grinned. “I told you before, you’re never going to know which one I’ve picked. It makes things exciting.” He motioned to a nice beige couch. “Sit down and relax. Watch TV. I don’t care,” he shrugged, heading into the only bedroom. “Okay,” I mumbled, sitting down, and looking around at the darkened space. In front of the couch were two crates, flipped upside down to create a makeshift coffee table. A bowl of skittles sat on top. Across from the couch was a nice sized flat screen TV. Trace came out of the bedroom with clothes in his hands and flicked on a light. “You don’t need to sit in the dark, Olivia. Make yourself at home,” he smiled and closed the bathroom door. I heard the shower turn on and breathed a sigh of relief. My feelings for Trace were quickly escalating and even though, at this point, we’d known each other for almost a month, it seemed too quick to be falling for someone. But could you put a time limit on something like that? This was bad. I couldn’t fall for Trace. He was my…friend and he could do so much better than me. He could have any girl he wanted, not just because of his looks, but because of his personality too, and I needed to stop pining over someone who would never be mine. Friends, I told myself. We. Are. Just. Friends. I buried my face in my hands. I couldn’t let Trace know I liked him. There was no way he returned my feelings and he’d just give me some song and dance about how we’d never work. That’s what most guys did, right? I didn’t have any experience and was basing my assumption off of movies. Which was stupid because movies always got it wrong. I took a deep breath before I had a panic attack. I used to have them all the time as a child but I had grown out of them. Now, would be the worst time ever for them to return. The door to the bathroom opened, steam billowing out, effectively cutting off my internal tirade. Droplets of water clung to Trace’s dark hair, making it appear black instead of brown. He’d shaved, but short prickly stubbles of hair still remained. I liked that he was never clean-shaven. I always thought that the guys with smooth cheeks looked babyish. “I’m ready,” he announced, running his fingers through is hair rapidly, trying to dry it. “Okay,” I stood, running my hands down the front of my jeans. He locked the apartment behind us and led me to his car. “I can drive,” I pointed to my car. “Nice try,” he grinned, “but I’d have to tell you where we’re going and that’s not going to happen.” “Fine,” I slid into his car. “I don’t care.” Which was a lie. I did care, very much. It seemed completely unfair that he wouldn’t tell me where we were going. But I knew there was no point in arguing with him. He hadn’t driven far, when he stopped in front of a small building, in the old part of town. “That was fast,” I looked up at the building, reading the sign. It was an art gallery. “I’m learning to paint?” I grinned, excitedly. “Yeah,” he eased out of the car and jogged around to open my door. “This is going to be so much more fun than roller skating!” I squealed and Trace chuckled in response.

“I suck at this!” I exclaimed, causing the other people in the room to turn, and glare at me. It was mostly older people there, aside from Trace and me. “It’s not that bad,” Trace glanced from his canvas to mine.

“It looks nothing like it!” I pointed to the purple blob I had painted and to the purple vase it was supposed to look like. “Yours looks good compared to mine!” Which was pretty sad, because his sucked too. “You can’t expect to learn to paint in one evening,” the teacher breezed over to me. She looked at what I had done and wrinkled her nose. “Then again, there are those who can never learn.” “I take it I’m in the never category?” I huffed. She didn’t bother to answer. I tried to pretty up the mess I had made on my canvas but it was hopeless. Completely and utterly hopeless. It was obvious I didn’t have an artsy bone in my body. At least, when it came to painting and drawing…I could write pretty well. But then again, it was impossible to judge yourself. I was tempted to say, ‘Screw it, let’s get out of here,’ but I knew that wouldn’t fly with Trace. Plus, he was completely engrossed in talking with the old man beside him. Apparently, the man had served in one of the wars and was telling a curious Trace all about it. I cleaned my paintbrushes off and then placed the canvas on a drying rack. “You done?” Trace asked when I sat back down on the stool. “Yeah,” I sighed grumpily. “I’m never going anywhere near a paintbrush again. I’m an insult to artists everywhere.” Trace chuckled. “That’s not true and this is only a beginner’s class. I think you’re supposed to suck.” I frowned. “Olivia,” Trace swiveled in his stool to face me and leaned down to my level. “You don’t have to be perfect. It’s okay to suck at things.” His words were like a stab straight to my heart, even though he hadn’t meant them that way. He was right. I didn’t have to be perfect. But when you’ve been striving for perfection, all your life, it’s hard to let it go. “Hey,” Trace whispered, lifting my chin up. “Don’t be sad. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything.” “I know,” I mumbled. “And you’re right. I don’t have to be perfect but with my dad…” “You’ve always tried to be,” he added. “It’s okay to mess up though, Olivia. I thought you wanted to live? You can’t live if you don’t mess up. Life’s all about mistakes, and sometimes, those things you think are mistakes, turn out to be the thing you were searching for.” I nodded at his words. They made sense. “Life isn’t about perfection,” he added, “perfection doesn’t exist.” “I know,” I replied, playing with the ends of my hair. “Do you?” He questioned, his green eyes studying me. “Because I’m not sure you do.”

I kept turning Trace’s words over in my mind. I knew that perfection didn’t exist, but since my dad had always expected it, I strived for it. My list was supposed to be my chance to make mistakes, so why was I holding myself back? I wanted to mess things up, and live a little, but when you had worked so hard to be perfect, for so long, it was hard to let that go. But I was going to, because if I didn’t, I would never find the real Olivia Owens. We were back in the car but we hadn’t pulled away from the building. “You may not be the next Picasso,” Trace grinned, causing me to smile in response, “but you tried, and that’s what really matters.” He pulled a pen and piece of paper out of his pocket. I quickly realized it was my list. He carefully unfolded it and held the crinkled piece of paper out to me, along with the pen. “Would you like to do the honor?” He asked, eyes sparkling. I didn’t bother to reply, I took both items from his hands, crossing off smoking and learning how to paint.

Get drunk Fly in a hot air balloon Go to the carnival Go to a concert (even if it’s someone I’ve never heard of) Go to a party Lose my virginity Dance in the rain Go roller skating See the ocean Learn to paint Get a dog…or a cat…or a rabbit. Any pet will do. Sing in front of real people. Avery doesn’t count. Make more friends Shoot a gun Smoke Get a tattoo Learn to pole dance Go skinny dipping Pierce my belly button Fall in love It was so rewarding seeing two more things get crossed off my list. I had been too scared to do them on my own. But with Trace’s help, it was finally happening. I was living.

“We’re going out,” Avery announced, bouncing into our dorm room. “No,” I responded, even though it hadn’t been a question. “Yes, we are,” she sang, stripping off her clothes, and changing into clean ones. “Luca invited me to go out and he said Trace would be there, so you’re going.” I perked up at Trace’s name but I had a pile of homework. The professors were laying it on thick before Thanksgiving break. “I can’t,” I frowned. Avery sauntered over to me. She reached out and tweaked the corners of my lips up. “Stop frowning, it doesn’t suit you. Instead, smile and say, ‘Yes, Avery, I’ll go out with you, Luca, and Trace.’” “I have to get this homework done,” I whined. “It’s not like it’s going anywhere. Do it tomorrow,” she shrugged, padding back across the small room, to her closet and flicking through the various items. “And that’s the kind of philosophy that gets people in trouble,” I commented, pointing a finger at her turned back. “Livie,” she pleaded, “please, for me?” She begged. I sighed. I had been spending a lot of time with Trace and even though, we’d be out with the guys, Avery would be there. “Fine,” I conceded. “But I want to know where we’re going.” “Just out to eat, I think Luca said he wanted to go to B-Dubs,” she shrugged, with a flip of her hand, “so that’s why you have to go.” “Oh, I see,” I laughed. “Luca invited Trace so it wouldn’t be a date. But if I tag along, then it makes it a double date.” “Exactly,” she smirked. “You play dirty, Avery Callahan,” I shook my head. “Poor Luca doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.” Avery laughed, throwing her head back. “You’ve got that right,” she winked. I closed my laptop with a sigh and changed into something more presentable than sweatpants. I ended up in a pair of jeans and a red sweater. Avery eyed me disapprovingly. “What?” I squawked. “There’s nothing wrong with this!” Avery rolled her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked me up and down. “It’s just so… boring.” “You’re the one that’s dragging me away from homework which I need to do. I’m sorry if I’m not very concerned with how I look,” I snapped. “Please, make an effort Livie. Trace is going to be there, and you don’t want to go walking into the restaurant, covered up like that,” she gave me pleading puppy dog eyes. “It’s cold outside and I want to wear a sweater. What’s wrong with that? At least it’s not a sweatshirt,” I snapped. “I’m not going to be walking around in booty shorts when there’s frost on the

ground in the mornings.” Avery lit up, so I quickly added, “And I won’t be wearing booty shorts in the summer…or ever for that matter.” Avery frowned. “But you don’t always have to wear jeans and a sweater when it’s cold outside. There are other options. Please, let me dress you,” she pleaded, pouting her bottom lip. “Fine,” I groaned, stripping off my sweater, and throwing it at her head. “Thank you!” She shrieked, running across the room to her closet. “Would you like to lay out clothes for me to wear in the morning, mother?” I snarled. She laughed. “Maybe I should. You always look fabulous when I dress you,” she said flippantly, but with a grin. “Change into these,” she tossed a pair of black skinny jeans my way. I made a face of disgust. I loathed skinny jeans. “Olivia,” Avery scolded, looking over her shoulder, noticing my scowl. “Put the pants on before I force you to the ground and do it myself,” she narrowed her dark green eyes at me. I knew she would. Avery was a woman of her word. Reluctantly, I removed my jeans, and wiggled into the skinny jeans. I was really beginning to hate having a roommate that was the same size as me. But then, when I turned, and saw the way the jeans hugged my curves, all hate was forgotten. “Nice, huh?” Avery smirked, studying my reaction. I groaned at being caught smiling. “They’re okay.” “You’re such a liar. Don’t liars go to Hell?” She grinned saucily. I threw a pillow at her. “I know sinners do.” She caught the pillow and hugged it to her chest. “Then there’s a special place in Hell with my name on it,” she winked, “and a majority of the population of the world. Everyone is a sinner when it comes to something.” “So,” I drawled, “I assume you’re going to give me a shirt to wear. I don’t think they’ll let me eat in just my bra.” “Oh, right,” Avery shook her head and grabbed a lightweight sweater off of her bed. “Here,” she handed it to me. It was oatmeal colored and the bottom of it hung in different lengths. I was surprised by how soft it felt, like a blanket you’d give a baby. I pulled it over my head and adjusted it so that it hung right. “Seriously, Olivia, you’re so pretty,” Avery looked me up and down. “It’s not fair.” Avery was calling me pretty? What planet was this? Avery was drop dead gorgeous with red hair that hung halfway down her back, pouty lips, and insane curves. She had the kind of body girls desired and guys drooled over. She wasn’t big but she wasn’t small either. I thought she was the perfect healthy size. She grabbed a leopard print scarf off her closet door and fixed it around my neck. “These will look great too,” she handed me a pair of brown leather boots that looked like the kind you’d wear to go horseback riding. I sat down and pulled them on. They almost came as high as my knees. “Almost perfect,” Avery appraised her handy-work. In a matter of seconds, she had my hair hanging down one side in a fishtail braid. “Now, you’re perfect,” she grinned. I laughed, shaking my head at my best friend. Avery had changed into a gray dress, with black tights, heels, and a red jacket. She looked gorgeous. No matter what we were doing, Avery always looked like a knockout. I don’t think I had ever seen her look rumpled or frazzled. “Let’s get outta here,” she grabbed her gigantic purse and slung it over her shoulder. Sometimes I wondered what she smuggled in there. No one needed a purse that big. “Right behind you,” I replied, taking a deep breath.

Avery parked her red Volkswagen Beetle in front of Buffalo Wild Wings. Her phone chimed and she read the text. “That’s Luca, he says that they’re already inside,” she tucked her phone in her purse.

I followed her inside, not saying a word. I was extremely nervous and I didn’t know why. I had been spending a lot of time with Trace, but this felt different. Maybe, it was because we were meeting up to do something that wasn’t on my list. Or maybe, it was because I knew he didn’t know I was coming and I was scared of his reaction. Yeah, I was pretty sure it was that. Avery spotted Luca instantly, and what do you know? He was wearing a vest again, with a fedora perched atop his head. I was really beginning to wonder what he had against shirts, or maybe he just wanted to show off his impressive muscular physique. More than one woman was eyeing him appreciatively. My eyes moved away from Luca and locked on Trace’s intense green stare. He wasn’t checking me out like most guys would. Instead, he was looking into my eyes, as a smile graced his face. And not just a little smile either; it was a big happy one that showed me all of his perfect white teeth. My heart leapt. Trace was happy to see me. Avery and I took the chairs across from the guys. “Hey,” I smiled lightly at Trace, hoping the dim lighting of the restaurant hid my blushing cheeks. “Hey,” he leaned towards me, his eyes glowing. Trace’s eyes were always expressive. I was beginning to read his moods just by the variance in shade. The sparkle in his eyes told me he was feeling playful. I liked playful Trace…well, when he wasn’t making me blush. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he tilted his head to study me, grin widening, “but I’m really glad you’re here.” A gust of air fled my lungs. “I’m glad to be here,” I spoke softly. “Don’t go getting shy on me now, Olivia,” he smirked. Avery, clearing her throat loudly, had me turning to face her. I blushed an even darker shade of red when I saw that a waitress was standing there, waiting for our drink orders. I stammered that I wanted sweet tea and Trace ordered a beer. I picked up the menu, using it to block my reddened face from Trace’s powerful gaze. I settled on an order of eight boneless wings with sweet BBQ sauce. That seemed safe enough since I wasn’t a fan of spicy food. When the waitress came with our drinks, I ordered my food quickly. Trace kept watching me, and the feel of his eyes skating along my body, was igniting a fire inside me. For something to distract myself, I grabbed another packet of sugar, and added it to my already sweet tea. It wasn’t like you could ever make anything too sweet. I was taking a sip of my tea when Avery leaned over, and whispered in my ear, “Trace is undressing you with his eyes. He wants to do you, right here, right now.” I choked, spewing sweet tea across the table, and coughing so hard my sides began to hurt. Avery giggled, beating my back. “Are you okay?” Trace asked, wiping up the mess I had made. Thank God none had gotten on him or I would’ve melted into a puddle of embarrassed goo. “Fine,” I croaked, my voice hoarse from all the coughing. I glared at Avery and she hid a smile behind her hand. Luca seemed oblivious, but I wondered if he was really as aloof as he acted. He was a weird guy. I guess that’s why he was perfect for Avery. “You sure you’re okay?” Trace questioned, dropping the soiled napkin where the waitress could grab it. “Yeah,” I took a breath and it burned my raw throat. If Avery was sitting across from me, I would kick her so hard in the knees, she wouldn’t be able to walk for days. Trace took a sip of his beer, eyeing me. He really needed to stop with the whole staring thing. It was turning me into a nervous wreck. “Get any homework done?” He asked, deciding that was a safe topic. “No,” I rolled my eyes. Pointing at Avery, I added, “This one dragged me away before I could accomplish anything.”

“What can I say?” Avery flipped her hair over her shoulder. “That’s what best friends are for.” “Failing grades?” I turned to look at her with a raised brow. She rolled her eyes, and turned her attention to Luca, who only seemed to grunt in reply to anything she said. Trace shook his head and chuckled. “You two are complete opposites.” “I know,” I laughed, “but I love her.” I poked Avery’s side, and she glared at me, before resuming her conversation. “I know what you mean,” Trace chuckled. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with this weirdo,” he slapped Luca on the back. Luca chuckled, “It’s ‘cause I make things interesting.” Oh my God, he spoke more than two words! “That’s for sure,” Trace laughed. “Your stories about California are the best.” Luca took a drink of his beer, gazing out into the restaurant. I guessed he had used up his word quota for the day. “Luca was a professional surfer in California,” Trace explained, since Luca had turned into a mute once more. “Why’d you quit?” Avery asked. Luca huffed a sigh, leveling Trace with his eerie pale blue eyes. Reluctantly, he removed his fedora and pushed his shaggy light brown hair off his forehead showing us a jagged white scar that marred at least an inch of his forehead and disappeared into his hair. Avery’s eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect O. “What happened?” Luca glared at Trace and then met Avery’s eyes. “Surfing accident, the scar’s about six inches long. I lost a lot of blood and almost lost my life. After that, I didn’t have the passion for the sport anymore, so I quit,” he shrugged, pulling his hair down to hide the scar once more and replaced his hat. “Wow,” Avery gasped. I wondered if she was saying wow about his surfing accident, or at the fact that he spoke a whole freakin’ paragraph. The waitress came with our food but Avery was too busy staring at Luca to notice. I rolled my eyes, choosing to ignore them. I tried to eat my dinner as quickly as possible. I wanted to go. I felt so incredibly awkward, more awkward than I normally felt. I was able to talk to Trace easily now, but something about having extra company there, scared me. I was afraid I’d say something to Trace, Avery would overhear me, and proceed to tell me that I should talk about something else. I really needed to stop being so insecure. Trace’s eyes twinkled and his lips quirked with barely contained laughter. “What?” I asked, automatically reaching up to touch my face. Oh, shit. I had BBQ sauce all over my mouth. I pulled my hand away, staring at the stickiness now covering my fingers. I bit down on my lip, trying not to cry. This was so embarrassing! “Here,” Trace tossed one of the wet wipes at me. That only made me want to cry more. I felt like a child. I was really beginning to hate that I was so shy. Avery would have brushed this off as if it was nothing. But I couldn’t do that. I ripped the packet open and hastily wiped my mouth and fingers clean, vowing to, never-ever-not-ina-million-years, eat BBQ wings again. Nope. Never. “Hey,” Trace leaned across the table, “it’s okay.” No, it most certainly was not okay. I was about to cry in front of a room full of strangers…and Trace. I nodded, avoiding his scrutiny. I stared at the basket of chicken. I’d only eaten two of them, but suddenly, I wasn’t hungry. In fact, I was pretty sure I would never be hungry again. I pushed my basket away and covered them with a napkin. Trace watched my movements, not missing anything, before doing the same and motioning the waitress over. She scurried quickly to the table. “Is there something I can get you?” She looked down at the food we’d barely touched. “Did you not like the food?”

“We’re not very hungry,” Trace explained with a grin. Pulling his wallet out of his pocket he handed her money. “This should cover our meals,” he pointed to himself and me, “and a tip for you.” “Alright,” she accepted the money. “If you didn’t enjoy your meal I can speak to my manager and-” Trace held up a hand to stop her. She tucked a piece of blonde hair that had fallen out of her ponytail, behind her ear. “That’s not necessary,” he told her. “Okay,” she said softly, skittering away, but glancing back over her shoulder at Trace. “Did you drive?” He asked me. “No,” I shook my head. “Avery brought me.” “Good,” he grinned, tapping Luca on the shoulder. “We’re gonna head out. Get Avery to take you home.” Avery grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “Don’t expect me back tonight,” she informed me. I rolled my eyes. Avery was cocky enough to be a guy. There was no one else on the planet like her. Trace stood and shrugged his lean shoulders into his leather jacket. I raked my eyes over him, I’d been too nervous earlier to see what he was wearing. Surprise, surprise, he wore a purple plaid shirt. “Come on,” he reached for my hand and led me outside. I noticed that there was an area for people to eat outside but it was currently closed for the winter months. Trace led me to a black car that definitely wasn’t the one he’d been driving. “New car?” I asked, as he used a push button to unlock it. Definitely a new car. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I’ve had it a few months. I don’t like to drive the other one much.” “Hmmm,” I mused, sliding inside, and then rubbing my hands along the black leather seats. How did he afford this? “What kind of car is this?” I asked. “Dodge Charger,” He answered, backing out. I grew quiet as he drove down the road and turned left at the stoplight, driving passed the CVS and Payless, before turning sharply into the Dairy Queen parking lot. My body slammed into the door. “Oomph,” I groaned. Trace chuckled. “You really like slamming me against your car door,” I groaned, rubbing my shoulder. Trace waggled his eyebrows and put the car in park. “What can I say? Slamming you into things has a certain kind of appeal,” he looked me up and down. I gulped, my eyes widening like a cornered rabbit, as I grappled for the door handle. Trace chuckled. “I was just kidding…unless you’re into that kind of thing,” he winked. Oh my God! He needed to stop it before I did something stupid, like tell him he could slam me against anything he wanted. My cheeks flamed at my thoughts. Apparently, after a year, Avery’s ways were finally rubbing off on me. She’d be so proud. Trace continued to chuckle as he got out of the car. I climbed out, and followed him into Dairy Queen, my legs shaking like limp noodles. All Trace had to do was suggest something remotely sexual and my body immediately responded. As Avery liked to say, he was the kind of guy that could make you have an orgasm just by talking. I covered my cheeks with my hands, willing the heat in them to leave. Maybe Avery could give me a lesson in not blushing. In all the time I had known her, she had never blushed, while I seemed unable to turn it off. “What do you want?” He asked, motioning for me to order. “Oh,” I mumbled, stepping up to the counter, scrutinizing the menu. “Um, I’ll have the double fudge cookie dough blizzard,” I mumbled and stepped back. I didn’t see how I could go wrong with that. Trace ordered a pineapple sundae and we stood off to the side and waited. Once we were handed our ice cream, we took a seat on the other side, away from the commotion of the counter. The seats were old fashioned, with blue and red, shiny cushions. A mural of various ice creams and candies decorated one wall, while the opposite wall was made entirely of windows. We sat down at one of the tables next to the windows. It was dark outside, but it seemed brighter with the light from inside the Dairy Queen, and the various shops across the street. “Pineapple?” I raised a brow as Trace took a bite.

“I like pineapple,” he shrugged, “therefore pineapple and ice cream are a winning combination. I can also delude myself into believing it was semi healthy when I feel guilty later.” I laughed. “You sound like you have a vagina.” He snorted. “I don’t, but feel free to check it out if you want.” “I’m good,” I looked away, taking a bite of my ice cream. “So, you don’t eat a lot of sweets?” I asked. He frowned. “I try not to, but Skittles are my guilty pleasure.” I laughed, remembering the bowl of Skittles on his coffee table. “I try to eat healthy, not like most guys living on their own,” he explained. “My mom made sure that my brother and I could cook.” “Those stuffed shells you made were delicious,” I licked my lips free of ice cream. He grinned. “I knew my stuffed shells would impress you.” I rolled my eyes, silently scolding my cheeks for flaming at his words. “How do you manage to make everything sound dirty?” He smirked cockily. “What can I say? It’s a gift.” “That’s some gift,” I laughed. “Not everyone can be this talented,” he winked, and then swirled his tongue around the spoon, licking away every drop of ice cream. I think my ovaries may have exploded. Heat rushed through my body, and I knew not even the ice cream I was currently eating, could smolder it. Damn Trace Wentworth. He finished his sundae and waited patiently for me to finish mine. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he leaned back in the chair. Ugh, couldn’t he have just kept quiet about that? Men. I waved my hand in dismissal. “I really am,” he added. “Can we just not talk about it,” I pleaded. “Sure,” he shrugged, clasping his fingers together. “Whatever you want.” “Thanks,” I mumbled, staring down at the ice cream like it was the most interesting thing I had ever seen. “You get embarrassed easily, don’t you?” He questioned. I sighed, looking up to meet his eyes. “Yeah. I like to believe it’s a byproduct of being raised by my dad and not just me…being me,” I shrugged. “Everyone gets embarrassed now and then,” he replied. “Even you?” I looked at him in disbelief. “Even me,” he chuckled. “Just not as much as I used to when I was an awkward tween,” he winked. I doubted Trace had ever been awkward or as easily embarrassed as I was. It seemed impossible. He was always calm, cool, and collected. I finished my ice cream and Trace drove me back to the dorms. “Well,” he grinned, looking over at me, “goodnight.” “Goodnight,” I smiled back, opening the car door. I was closing the door when he exclaimed, “Oh, Olivia!” “Yeah?” I opened the door wide and leaned my head inside. The panty dropper smile graced his lips, causing a fire to erupt inside me. “I hope you dream of me.” My heart skipped a beat, and he chuckled, having caused the desired effect. “And I hope we’re doing all kinds of naughty things,” he added and then began to laugh at my bugeyed reaction. “I hate you,” I hissed “Hate is such a passionate word, Olivia,” he grinned, reaching up to push his dark hair out of his eyes, causing my mouth to water. I wanted to be the one pushing that hair out of his eyes. I eased my head back out of the car, but before I closed the door, I hissed, “And I hope you dream of me passionately shoving my foot up your cocky ass.” I slammed the door closed but it did nothing to hide his booming laughter. I stomped up to my dorm room cursing his name, because I knew now, that I would certainly dream of

all the naughty things I wanted to do with him.

I kicked at random pebbles as I strode up to Pete’s Garage. I had no idea if we were doing any of the things on my list today. All Trace had said was, “We’ll hang out for a while and see what happens.” That sounded ominous to me. Any number of things could happen. We could play Yahtzee or end up egging someone’s house or— I really needed to stop thinking before my thoughts moved on to dangerous ideas. I stepped into the garage, and Trace looked over at me, a smile lighting his face. He waved me over, and then motioned for me to sit on a stack of tires. “It may not be the most comfortable thing ever, but it’s better than sitting on the floor,” he shrugged, pointing to the concrete floor riddled with stains from leaky cars. “True,” I smiled. “So, what are we doing?” Trace waggled a grease-covered finger at me. “I’m not telling.” “Shocker,” I deadpanned, causing him to laugh. He grinned and pointed at the car on the lift. “I’ll be done in no time.” “Alright,” I sighed, kicking my feet against the stack of tires. “How come no one ever seems to be here but you and Luca?” “I prefer to work late,” he shrugged. “The other guys are usually gone by four o’ clock.” “Huh,” I commented, cupping my face in my hands, and leaning forward, watching as Trace expertly began rotating the tires. When it came to cars, everything seemed to be as easy as breathing to him. He lifted one of the tires off, and I wouldn’t have been a female if I wasn’t affected by the way his muscles flexed and rippled, glistening with sweat. Even dirty, covered in grease and sweat, Trace was the sexiest man I had ever laid my eyes on. I looked over at his car, the older one, parked outside the garage, and a question popped into my mind. “Trace?” I voiced. “Yeah?” He asked, looking over at me, those green eyes rendering me speechless for a moment. Shaking my head, I asked, “Your car…I’m no expert but isn’t that a classic?” “Yeah, it is,” he grinned, lighting up. Trace truly loved cars, had a passion for them, a passion that a lot of people didn’t have for anything. “My dad and I fixed it up together. It was a hobby of his, restoring old cars. It’s where I got the knack for it. He gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday. Best day of my life,” he stared off into the distance, remembering something. “My dad was a mechanic too. Some might say it’s not a glamorous job,” he spread his arms wide, encompassing the garage, “but it’s rewarding to fix something. I especially love restoring cars, like we did with that one,” he flicked his head toward his car. “There’s something so satisfying in taking this broken piece of metal and

turning it into something beautiful.” I looked down at the ground. “Is that why you want to help me? Are you just wanting to fix me and make me beautiful again?” Suddenly, he was in front of me, his boots blocking the ground I was staring a hole in. With a finger under my chin, he lifted my face up to his. “Olivia, you’re already beautiful, and you’re definitely not broken. Lost? Yes. But not broken.” “What’s the difference?” I asked. “A broken person wouldn’t have this spark of life that you have,” he spoke fiercely. “You’re just lost, like so many others, trying to find your way in this world. Trying to find who you are.” “Who am I, Trace?” He grinned. “That’s what we’re going to find out.” He stepped away, going back to work on the old Subaru. “You were talking in the past tense,” I noted. “Huh?” He looked over his shoulder at me, his brows knitting together. “About your dad. You said he was a mechanic.” “Oh, right,” Trace mumbled, taking a deep breath, and bracing a hand against the side of the car. “He died four years ago. Motorcycle accident. Truck didn’t see him,” he shrugged, his eyes dark. “I used to have a motorcycle,” he mused, “but after that, I haven’t been able to go near one.” I felt the pain and the sadness that accompanied what Trace was telling me. Obviously, he had been close to his dad, and the loss was still hard on him. I wanted to hug him, just wrap my arms around him and tell him that everything would be okay, but I wasn’t sure if he would be okay with me doing that. So, instead I stayed where I was, sitting on the stack of old tires. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, “I can tell you were close with him.” “He was my best friend,” Trace smiled sadly. “He was the greatest dad anyone could ever ask for, and he was taken away too soon. I was angry for a long time,” he sighed, and I was surprised that he was talking so openly about this. From his stance, and the way his eyes had darkened, I knew this was a difficult topic for him. “I didn’t like being that angry. It made me hurt the people I was closest too, the ones that mattered the most.” “How did you stop being angry?” I questioned, wondering if I could ever get rid of the anger bottled up inside me that was caused by my dad. He pondered my question for a moment. “The hate I felt was eating me alive. I didn’t like the person I was becoming. I didn’t like being someone my mom and grandparents were disgusted by. I decided that I wasn’t going to be that guy anymore. My dad didn’t raise me to act like that. He raised me to be a good man and I was spitting on his memory. In order to cope with my dad’s death, I lashed out at those closest to me. I did some horrible things, Olivia. Things I’m ashamed of,” he shook his head, his eyes far away in another time and place. “I realized that I needed to be the man I was before, the man my father knew and respected, in order to truly heal. I decided that I couldn’t let my pain consume me anymore. My dad wouldn’t have wanted that for me. So, here I am,” he pointed to his chest, “being me.” I smiled. “Well, I like who you are.” “Good,” he grinned, grabbing one of his many tools. “And, in case you were wondering, I like who you are too,” he winked. My heart soared as Trace turned back to the car. I hated that I was so pathetic that only a few kind words from him sent my heart racing. “Done,” Trace announced, a few minutes later, lowering the car. I hopped off the tires, and made my way outside, leaning against the building as I waited for him. He parked the car he’d been working on, outside, and closed the garage door. I followed him upstairs to his apartment. Since I felt more comfortable this time, I studied the place as Trace showered. It was surprisingly clean and tidy for a guy. There wasn’t anything sitting out that could be considered clutter…unless you counted the bowl of Skittles. The apartment had an industrial feel with high ceilings and exposed beams and pipes. The back wall and the wall across from the couch were painted an ocean blue-gray color, while the other two walls and kitchen area, were painted beige. I made my way over to the window, the wood floors creaking under my steps. I expected to look out, and see a junkyard of old cars out back, but was pleasantly surprised to see

woods, and even a small creek. I was sure, that during the summer when the leaves were green, it was breathtaking. Turning around, I took in a round metal column that separated the kitchen from the living room. The apartment was nice…homey even. It was the last thing you’d expect from a twenty-two year old guy. I started over to the couch, my feet sinking into a plush rug, as I waited for Trace to get ready for… whatever it was we’d be doing. The door to the bathroom opened and steam billowed out, followed by Trace, with only a small gray towel wrapped around his waist. Oh, sweet baby Jesus. I watched as a droplet of water trickled down his chest, into the dips and curves of his abs, and finally disappeared into the towel. My eyes roamed over his tattoos and my tongue flicked out to moisten my dry lips. Trace chuckled and I blushed, turning away, embarrassed that he caught me staring. I wished I could be bold all the time, like when I showed him my belly button piercing, but those moments were few and far between. His bedroom door clicked closed and I breathed out a sigh of relief. The door opened again and my heart stuttered in my chest. He came out in a clean pair of jeans, a white V-neck tee that showed off his tanned collarbone with the edge of the tattoo over his heart peeking out, and shrugged into a red and blue plaid shirt. He ran his long fingers through his damp hair, trying to dry it. He fixed the collar of his shirt and nodded at the door. I stood, following him outside, and around back where his newer car was parked. We were both quiet as he drove, getting on the Interstate, and heading north. Trace got off at the exit that led to Target and a strip mall. But instead of turning right, to head towards that area, he went left. We passed a Denny’s on our right and a Sheetz on the left. Neither of which gave me a clue as to where we were going. I glanced over at Trace, who was staring straight ahead at the road, a smirk lifting his lips. I kept quiet, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, as we turned, and headed into a part of town I’d never been to before. He pulled into the packed parking lot of a restaurant called, Backseat Bar and Grill. “We’re here,” he announced, as if I hadn’t figured that out already. The question was, why were we here? The mischievous grin Trace wore told me that we weren’t here to eat. I trailed along behind him, trying not to reach up and slap that smirk right off his face. He held the door open for me and I stepped inside, my eyes greeted by red and white old-fashioned tiles and booths. “This way,” Trace nodded to the other side of the restaurant where the bar was. My eyes lit upon a sign. I read the words carefully. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Hell no!” I backed away, but somehow Trace had moved so he was no longer in front of me. Instead, he was behind me, and I bumped into his chest, his hands gripping my upper arms. “Don’t even think about running away, Olivia,” he whispered in my ear. “I will chase your ass down and drag you back in here.” “But-but-” “You’re getting up there, and you’re singing,” he responded. I took a deep breath. I really had to stop freaking out every time we did something on my list. The problem was, I was scared to do those things, which was why I had wanted to do them in the first place. Maybe that was strange, but I was sick of being sheltered.

My dad wasn’t holding me back anymore. I was. I straightened my shirt, steeling myself for what I was about to do. “I’ve got this,” I muttered, striding forward, passed the leering guys sitting at the bar. I felt, rather than saw, Trace’s grin at my words. I found an empty table, sliding into the booth. Trace slid in across from me, still grinning widely. Did he ever stop smiling? I glanced over my shoulder at the area where the karaoke was set up. I gulped down the lump in my throat. “It’ll be fine,” Trace crooned. “You’re not the one that’s going to have to sing in front a bunch of strangers!” I hissed. “That’s true,” he chuckled, leaning back in the booth as a waitress appeared. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun and her pen was poised against a notepad. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink? Do you need some more time to look at the menu?” She asked. I looked down at the red and white menu, that had been on the table when we sat down, with a picture of a girl from the ‘60’s and a classic red convertible. I hated to inform her, but I hadn’t even cracked open the menu. “Sweet tea,” I answered, “and I’m not very hungry.” I picked up the menu and handed it to her. Actually, I was hungry. But if I was going to sing, it had to be on an empty stomach, or I’d end up throwing up on the floor in front of everybody. “A chocolate milkshake, that’s all,” Trace replied. “I’ll be back with that, and if either of you change your mind, and want something to eat, let me know,” she smiled before heading for the kitchen. “Ready?” Trace asked, nodding to the karaoke setup. “No!” I shrieked, practically jumping out of my skin. “Give me a few minutes to talk myself into this!” Nervous beads of sweat were forming on my forehead, and I reached up, wiping it off with the back of my hand. He narrowed his eyes. “Are you talking yourself into it, or out of it?” He leaned forward as he asked the question, the booth squeaking. “In! I’m talking myself into doing it!” I squawked. “Sure you are,” his eyes narrowed further and dammit if that didn’t make some part of me want to show him that I wasn’t scared. I slapped my hand on the table and stood up. Trace grinned and leaned back. “Challenge accepted?” “You betcha’,” I pointed a finger at him. I strode over to the karaoke station, my nerves beginning to catch up with me, but I pushed them down. I could do this. I sang at home all the time, even my dad had praised my voice, and tried to talk me into joining the choir at his church. That was one thing I refused to do to please him, I was too shy, and he wouldn’t have taken kindly to me throwing up on his patrons. The only non-family member who had heard me sing was Avery. Which happened by accident when she walked into our dorm early and I was singing. But even Avery had complimented my voice. I took the microphone from the man working the machine and told him the song I wanted to sing. “You sure, darlin’?” He questioned me in a thick southern accent, something even more southern than Virginia. “Positive,” I gripped the microphone tightly in my hand, my knuckles turning white. I swallowed down the bile in my throat as the first notes of the song filled the air while everyone in the restaurant turned to see who was singing. I closed my eyes but promptly opened them, locking my gaze on Trace’s. If I looked into his eyes, and at no one else, I could do this. He smiled encouragingly as the song reached the part where I was to start singing. I sang the opening lines of LeAnn Rimes song, I Need You, and everyone grew silent. My voice was shaky at first but quickly grew stronger as I blocked everyone out and focused solely on Trace.

“‘I need you like water, like breath, like rain. I need you like mercy from Heaven’s gate. There’s a freedom in your arms that carries me through. I need you.’” Trace’s jaw dropped open and his eyes widened at the sound of my voice. My mom always told me that I had a soft but powerful voice. Whatever that meant. I just liked to sing…as long as no one else was listening. But right now, everyone was listening. The patrons, the bartender, the waitresses, even one of the cooks. But most importantly, Trace was listening to me sing, and I didn’t feel sick. I felt…happy. My eyes never wavered from his as I sang, like as if he was holding me up and giving me the power to do this, and maybe he was. I still wasn’t able to explain what drew me to Trace and what made me trust him. There was just…something about him. “‘I neeeed you,’” the song ended and the place erupted into applause, causing my heart to soar. I smiled, bowing to the crowd gathered. I had done it. I sang in front of people. Real. Live. Breathing. People. That weren’t family or Avery. “Sing again!” Someone hollered out. I blushed. I wasn’t sure I could do that again. But then, Trace was stepping in front of me, “Sing with me,” he pleaded, and I found myself nodding in agreement. Trace named off a song to the guy, but I was back to freaking out, so I didn’t hear what it was. I was about to sing a duet with Trace Wentworth. If I thought my stomach was in knots before, this was ten—no a hundred—times worse. The lyrics came up on the screen. Oh, God. We were going to sing Just a Kiss by Lady Antebellum. I began singing first, and instead of looking at the crowd gathered in the restaurant, I found myself facing Trace. “‘Lying here with you so close to me, it’s hard to fight these feelings, when it feels so hard to breathe. Caught up in this moment, caught up in your smile,’” I sang. It got to the first part he was supposed to sing, and holy cow! The man could sing! Was there anything that he couldn’t do? “‘I’ve never opened up to anyone. So hard to hold back when I’m holding you in my arms,’” he sang to me. He stared into my eyes as he sang every word, and surprisingly, I didn’t blush. But I did swoon. We joined in, singing the chorus together, and our voices blended together like the song was meant for us to sing. “‘We don’t need to rush this, let’s just take it slow. Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight. Just a touch of the fire burning too bright. No, I don’t want to mess this thing up. I don’t want to push too far. Just a shot in the dark that you just might be the one I’ve been waiting for my whole life. So baby I’m alright, with just a kiss goodnight.’” Every time Trace sang the word, kiss, my heart soared. We leaned towards each other, smiling as we sang each word. His green eyes sparkled with pleasure. I had never felt happier than I did in this moment. I sang each word with every ounce of passion I had in my body, portraying through lyrics what I couldn’t say, and I knew Trace was doing the same. He picked this song for a reason. The last note came to a close. Trace and I were oblivious to everyone else; we only had eyes for each other. A grin lit his face and he cupped my cheek with one hand. My chest rose and fell with labored breaths. “I knew you could do it, Olivia,” he whispered, his thumb grazing over my bottom lip. “You did?” I asked breathlessly. “Okay, maybe not,” he chuckled, leaning his forehead against mine. I laughed too. “You mean you thought I might suck?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged, his hand still cupping my cheek, and his impossibly green eyes seared me to the spot. “I don’t expect you to be perfect at everything, Olivia. I mean,” he grinned, “you definitely were horrible at painting.” I poked his side. “Ow!” He feigned pain, because I definitely hadn’t poked him that hard. Still grinning, since he never seemed to stop, he said, “You were amazing, honestly.” “So were you,” I replied. “I didn’t know you could sing.” Trace opened his mouth to say something when a throat clearing over his shoulder interrupted our bubble. “Uh—if you two are done, there are other people that would like to sing,” the man running the karaoke machine told us. I blushed, and was sure Trace felt the heat infusing my cheeks, where his palm rested against one. “Sorry, sir,” Trace chuckled, taking my hand, and leading me back to our table. My sweet tea sat in its glass and I slurped at it greedily. Singing always made me impossibly thirsty. Trace picked up his chocolate shake, stirring in the whipped cream. I saw that he’d already drank about half of the massive thing. “I didn’t know you could sing,” I repeated. “Oh,” he waved a hand, “I don’t.” “I beg to differ,” I eyed him, “your voice is amazing.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s average, there’s a big difference.” I snorted. “If you think your voice is average I’d love to know what you think is extraordinary.” He snapped his fingers together. “Steven Tyler has an extraordinary voice,” he reasoned. “Aerosmith is one of the greatest bands ever.” “Says the man who was dancing to a song talking about blowing the roof off the place,” I shook my head. “Hey, variety is the spice of life,” his eyes sparkled. “I can’t help it that I enjoy different styles of music. Old rock and techno happen to be my favorites.” He grinned and took a sip of his shake. “You’re nuts,” I muttered. “Sanity is overrated,” he winked, flashing me his cocky grin. “So,” he licked his lips, “think I can convince you to sing another song?” “No,” I shook my head. “I’m done…for now,” I added. “As long as I get to hear your voice again. It’s beautiful,” his lips wrapped around the straw. I had no idea how Trace made the simplest of things seem sexy. “Uhmm,” I muttered in agreement, finishing off my sweet tea. Trace placed his empty shake glass at the end of the table. He pulled his wallet out and left enough money to cover everything. “Ready to get out of here?” He asked. “Yeah,” I smiled, sliding out of the booth. As we made our way to the door, more than one person stopped to tell me that I had a beautiful voice. One older man, stopped Trace and said, “She’s a keeper lad. A forever girl, that one,” he pointed at me. “Don’t let her get away like I did,” he nodded before slapping Trace across the back and waddling away. We didn’t have a chance to explain that we weren’t a couple. I burst into laughter when we finally made it outside. “A forever girl?” I giggled. Trace stuffed his hands in his pockets, brows knitted together, suddenly serious. I wasn’t used to serious Trace. “But you are a forever girl,” he murmured, halting his steps. I stopped too, waiting for him. “What does that even mean?” He looked up, tilting his head to study me. “You’re not the kind of girl that guys fool around with, Olivia. You’re the kind of girl, that when a guy finds her, he’ll do everything he can to keep her.” My breath hitched. Trace strode by me, straight for his car, leaving me standing there, reeling. His jaw was tense and his eyes were serious when I finally managed to get in the car. He drove me straight to the University. “My car-” “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s here in the morning,” he replied before I could even finish my

sentence. Okay, then. I went to get out of the car but Trace’s hand closed around my arm. “Wait,” he pleaded, so I did. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just studied my face, almost as if he was searching for something. “Take a walk with me,” he murmured. “It’s cold,” I whined. He unbuckled his seatbelt, and reached into the backseat, handing me a sweatshirt. “Wear this,” he commanded. I slipped on the sweatshirt, wondering what was going on in his head. Trace was rarely so serious. I followed along beside him as we walked on the sidewalk. He stopped when we reached the pavilion. It was one of my favorite places on campus. It was beautiful with its copper top and the water surrounding it. Peaceful. Avery thought it was weird, but I often read out here, and even did my homework here on occasion. I liked being outside. Something about the outdoors always made me feel at home. I loved the smell of the freshly mowed grass and the lilies in the spring. Even on days like this, when it was cold and blustery, I still found a reason to enjoy being outside. Trace leaned against the railing, separating the pavilion from the water. I stared at the fountain in the middle of the manmade pond, waiting for Trace to say something. Even though it was late, students were still milling around campus, but the pavilion was empty except for the two of us. Trace clasped his hands together and his jaw was rigid. He turned his head towards me and I studied his handsome face like it was the last time I’d see him, which I was sure it was. I was convinced that he was about to tell me that he couldn’t help me with my list anymore and that he never wanted to see me again. He looked so sad and serious, I knew nothing good could come from whatever he wanted to say. “I enjoyed singing with you tonight,” he murmured, standing to his full height so he towered over me. “I enjoyed singing with you too,” I stuttered, looking at the ground, waiting for him to shatter my heart. He stepped forward, so his boots were in my line of vision, butted right up against my Converse. “Olivia,” he murmured, and I shivered at the way he said my name, his voice a husky whisper. Slowly, I looked up, and my eyes connected with his. Every time Trace looked at me like this, I was convinced he was seeing straight through me, right to my very soul, and uncovering all of my hidden secrets. “There’s something I’ve wanted to do ever since I met you,” his voice grew softer, but every word was like a shout to me, as he lowered his head and his mouth came closer to mine. “What?” I asked, like an idiot, just before his lips pressed against mine. A fire erupted inside me, a fire only Trace created, and I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck, reaching up on my tiptoes to kiss him thoroughly. His lips were soft, a direct contrast to the stubble on his cheeks rasping against my sensitive skin, and I was tempted to beg him to never stop kissing me. It felt so good. I knew that this is what kisses were supposed to be like, magical. I pressed my body firmly against his. Even through the thick sweatshirt I was wearing, I felt the hard ridges of his body, and I trembled. His tongue skated against my bottom lip and my mouth opened in response. One of his hands cupped the back of my neck while the other ventured over my shoulder, down my arm, and over my back, before settling at my waist and pressing me firmly against him. Holy Hell. I gasped against his mouth and he groaned in response. My body moved against his like it was programmed to respond to everything he did to me. He lightly nipped my bottom lip and I cried out in surprise. That seemed to shock him, and his hands dropped from my body, his lips leaving mine. I suddenly felt very cold. My fingers touched my lips, finding them to be surprisingly tender.

Then again, I had never been kissed like that, so maybe they were supposed to be sore. Trace’s eyes had darkened with lust, but he looked tormented, his jaw was clenched once more and his hands were fisted at his sides. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he groaned. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, before turning around and walking away, as fast as humanly possible. What. The. Hell? I had just been given the most amazing kiss of my life, of anyone’s life, and he was apologizing and walking away? Had I done something wrong? Was I a bad kisser? A million thoughts tumbled through my mind as I began to cry, standing there, willing him to come back and tell me this was a joke. But it wasn’t. Trace had kissed me and now he was gone.

I wiped my tears away as hastily as they fell. I had never been so hurt or humiliated in my entire life. I felt like Trace had ripped my heart right out of my chest and stomped on it. How could he do that to me? I spotted his car, still parked in front of my dorm, but he wasn’t in it. The sight of his car made caused even more tears. I walked up the steps, heading for my dorm room, blinded by my tears. I opened the door and was greeted with a cheery, “How did it go?” from Avery, and then, “Oh my God! Are you crying? What did he do to you? Do I need to chase his ass down and cut his dick off, then force feed it to him?” Not even Avery’s sick sense of humor could get me to crack a smile. “Olivia,” she whispered softly as the door clicked closed. I couldn’t see her through my blurry tears. I felt her arms wrap around me, in a tight hug, as she pulled me over to my bed. “I’m sorry, Livie,” she whispered, cradling me against her, like a mom would with her small child. I must have looked really pathetic. I sniffled, taking deep breaths. “What happened?” She asked, running her fingers through my long hair. I sniffled in response and she rubbed my back. “Shhh,” she whispered, “it’s okay. Cry. You can tell me later, because you will tell me,” she rubbed my back. “I need to know if I have to castrate him,” she muttered the last part under her breath. When I composed myself to the point where I could talk, I told her about the kiss and Trace running away from me. Avery giggled. Giggled! She plucked at the sweatshirt I was wearing. Trace’s sweatshirt. “I told you a sweatshirt was like wearing a chastity belt. It scares guys off every time.” “It’s his sweatshirt,” I whined, yanking it off as quickly as I could, making sure to wipe my snotty nose on it so that if I ever had the guts to return it, it would be covered in nastiness. It would serve him right for what he did. What’s a little snot compared to a broken heart? “Sorry,” Avery smoothed her fingers through my hair again, “I was trying to make you laugh.” “I know,” I mumbled. “But I don’t really feel like laughing right now.” “Fair enough,” she shrugged, wrapping her arm around me again. I leaned my head on her shoulder and she rested hers atop mine. Avery was a lot of things, but there was no best friend as great as her, I was sure of that. “I still think you should let me hunt him down and cut his balls off. Serves him right for doing that,” she muttered, wiping tears from my cheeks. I couldn’t seem to stop crying, no matter how hard I tried.

I knew it was silly. It was one kiss and it wasn’t like Trace and I were dating. We were…friends…I guess. But it seemed that in the past month, I’d started falling for him, and when he kissed me…it felt… perfect. Obviously, it didn’t seem perfect to him. I started crying again, harder, and Avery got up and returned with a box of tissues. “Thank you,” I forced a smile a few minutes later for Avery’s benefit. The tears seemed to be over for now. “No problem. That’s what best friends are for,” she hugged me, before hopping off of my bed and climbing into hers. “Get a shower and go to sleep. You’ll feel a lot better in the morning.” “I’m afraid I’ll never feel better,” I mumbled. Avery frowned. “You will,” she promised. I stood, gathering my pajamas, and bath products. A knock at our dorm door sent the items falling to the ground with a loud bang. Avery sat up. “What the fuck?” “I’ll get it,” I waved for her to lie back down. I opened the door, expecting to see the R.A., coming to investigate all the crying. But no. I didn’t have normal people luck. I had Olivia Owens luck. And it wasn’t the R.A.’s pale brown eyes that I was looking at it. It was emerald ones. I opened my mouth, to say I don’t know what, but Trace didn’t give me a chance. His hands closed around my arms like steel bands, as he stepped inside the dorm, pushing me against the empty expanse of wall beside the door. His mouth descended on mine, his lips moving against mine like they were dancing. The rational part of my mind, told me to slap, kick, or bite him. But I couldn’t react; all I could do was feel. And God, did I feel everything. My hands roamed across his chest, they couldn’t go any further since he held my arms prisoner, and my lips responded to every movement of his. “Oh my God!” Avery shrieked. “You look like you’re about to make babies with your tongues!” Her words were like a bucket of ice water being poured over me. I hastily turned my face away, so Trace’s lips connected with my cheek. He groaned as he let me go. “You have about ten seconds to explain yourself before I dredge up my long buried karate skills and kick your ass,” Avery fumed, from behind Trace. I peeked over his shoulder to see Avery standing there, hands on her hips, and her hair flaming around her shoulders. Trace groaned and I resisted the urge to kick him for leaving me, making me cry, and then storming into my dorm room like a maniac and kissing me senseless. He pulled away and I would have fallen if it weren’t for the wall holding me up. Ignoring Avery, he said to me, “I’m sorry, Olivia.” Those words were like a slap. He’d said the same thing when he kissed me the first time. Was I really that bad? “No! No!” He exclaimed at my pained expression. “Tracey, you better hurry up and explain what that sorry is about,” Avery tapped her foot against the floor, giving him the evil eye. He licked his lips and looked from Avery to me. “Can we talk in private?” He pleaded with me. “No,” Avery answered him, but his eyes never wavered from mine. “Avery,” I pleaded. “Fine!” She threw her hands in the air. “But I will be right outside that door,” she told me. “And if you,” she thrust a finger roughly into Trace’s chest, “try anything, I will come in here and forcibly remove your balls from your body, and stuff them down your throat,” she seethed, storming outside,

and slamming the door closed. “Whoa,” Trace looked from the closed door to me. “I take it you told her?” I crossed my arms protectively over my chest and nodded. He rubbed his jaw, nodding. “I really am sorry,” he whispered. “I know,” I snapped, looking at the ground. “You’ve said that a bunch of times now. I’m sorry you kissed me too, now get out.” Score 1 for Olivia. His face fell. “That’s not what I meant.” I ground my teeth together. I steeled my shoulders, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them, “Kissing me, apologizing, and then running away kind of speaks for itself Trace.” “I’m sorry-” “Stop saying that!” I shrieked, stomping my foot in the process. I hadn’t been this mad or hurt in all my twenty years of life. “Olivia-” His hand came up to cup my cheek and I flinched. My body felt hot and cold all at the same time and I hated him for it. How dare he do what he did, then come into my dorm room, and kiss me again! And then my traitorous body had to go and enjoy it! “I want you to leave,” I spoke softly, the fight draining out of my body. I felt exhausted. “Please,” he begged, “let me explain. I thought you kicked Avery out so I-” “I asked her to leave so you didn’t lose your man parts, I was doing you a favor, now get-” His lips crashed against mine and I was pushed against the wall once more. I pushed against his chest but it did no good, he was too heavy. When he didn’t appear to have any intentions of stopping anytime soon, I bit down on his lip. “Ow!” He pulled away. “I guess I deserved that, but it was the only way I could think to shut you up, so I could talk to you.” “You can’t really talk when your lips are otherwise occupied!” I snapped. “Everything okay in there,” the door opened a crack and Avery stuck her head in. “It’s great,” I replied sarcastically. “Watch yourself,” Avery warned Trace. “You hurt my best friend and I’ll hurt you.” “Believe me, I know,” Trace sighed. “I can see my chances of fatherhood dwindling away by the second,” he looked between Avery and me. “I’ve got my…” she paused, “ear on you,” Avery pointed from her ear to the door. With one last warning glare at Trace she closed the door. “Can I please explain myself now without you trying to kick me out?” He asked. I crossed my arms protectively over my chest, and skated around him, making sure I didn’t brush against him. I sat on my bed and advised, “You can talk, as long as you stay far away, over there,” I motioned to wall across from my bed, which really wasn’t that far away in the small dorm room. “Deal,” he moved back two steps and I breathed a sigh of relief. “I should’ve known this was your side,” he commented, nodding at my bed. I guessed it wasn’t that hard to figure out which side was mine. My side was neatly organized while Avery’s side of the room was an explosion of junk. Makeup, clothes, and textbooks, everything spilled forth onto her bed, floor, and desk. While I kept everything carefully hidden, and while my side was far from bland, it wasn’t like Avery’s side. My bedspread was yellow, my favorite color, with a white flowery design on it. On the wall, I had hung framed glass words for a bit of decoration. Love. Laugh. Dream. I looked at the words every day, wishing I had more of all three in my life. My side was simple, but I liked it. Simple, wasn’t a word in Avery’s vocabulary though. Her bedspread was pink and orange cheetah print and the wall on her side of the room was covered in a huge poster of the rapper Drake. The poster kind of freaked me out, it always looked like he was watching you, but Avery refused to

remove it no matter how much I pleaded. Above her bed, Avery had put peel and stick letters, spelling out her name. I shook my head, looking across my bed at the very tall man currently standing in my room, studying me like I was the most interesting thing he’d ever laid eyes on. “You can talk, but if you say you’re sorry again, I’ll let Avery have at you,” I narrowed my eyes. He chuckled, but I was being serious. When I didn’t crack a smile, he sobered. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered. “Kissed me? I know, you said that already,” I muttered, drawing my knees up to my chest, willing him to leave and end this torture. I felt like I was dying on the inside. He flinched. “I’m-” He swallowed. “That’s not what I meant. I mean…I shouldn’t have walked away. It was wrong.” “You snuck into my dorm to tell me that?” “No,” he shook his head, rubbing his jaw, “I snuck into your dorm to kiss you again and apologize for leaving you there,” his lips threatened to turn up in that cocky grin. “That makes no sense whatsoever!” I cried. His eyes darkened as he looked at the door. Good, leave. His lips had narrowed into a thin line when he turned back to face me. “I’m saying this all wrong,” his eyes pleaded with me to believe him. I opened my mouth to interject some smartass comment, but he continued. “What I said earlier is true, Olivia. You’re a forever girl and fuck if I don’t want you to be my forever girl. But I don’t deserve you. But I had to kiss you, I had to know what your lips tasted like, and one taste isn’t enough. I never want to stop kissing you.” I swallowed thickly at his words. I hadn’t seen him move, but he was now on my bed. “When I kissed you…” He paused. “No kiss has ever felt like that before but I know you deserve better than me.” I leaned up on my knees, cupping his face in my hands, forcing him to meet my eyes. My anger had melted out of my body at his words and the expression on his face. He looked so sad. His brows were drawn and a frown marred his perfect lips. “Why don’t let you me decide who’s good enough for me?” I asked. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “What if you decide I’m not good enough?” “What if I know you are?” I countered. His tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. He swallowed again, his eyes bright with hope. “I wish I hadn’t left you standing there,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t have,” I replied, “but you did and if you promise to never do it again, I might be able to forgive you.” My eyes studied his face, waiting for any sign that he was going to run away again. “I’ll never leave you standing anywhere alone, again,” he vowed. “That’s all I ask,” and this time I was the one who initiated the kiss. A slow simmer started low in my belly, quickly reaching boiling point. I don’t know how it happened—whether I moved on my own or he moved me—but I was straddling his lap, my fingers tangling into the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Olivia,” he gasped against my lips, and my body shivered at the sound of my name, and the huskiness in his voice. “Please, don’t stop,” I begged. “Never,” he responded, deepening the kiss. His tongue rubbed against the sensitive skin just behind my teeth and I moaned. The door to my dorm room burst open. “Really?” Avery shrieked. “Olivia! I didn’t know you had this side to you!” Despite the exclamation, she sounded proud. I eased off of Trace’s lap, blushing profusely, not just at being caught, but also at my behavior. Trace grinned at me and dammit if my cheeks didn’t turn redder. “It’s time for you to leave,” Avery pointed at Trace, “and if you so much as try anything as stupid as you did tonight with her, you better sleep with your eyes open, Tracey-poo, ‘cause I will hunt your ass down. No one can hide from Avery Lyn Callahan for long!” She declared. Trace stood and turned to me. “Tracey-poo?” He mouthed. I shrugged.

“Come on,” Avery ushered him to the door, “you can kiss her senseless another day.” “Avery!” I exclaimed. “What?!” She replied. I shook my head. “Bye,” Trace grinned. “Bye,” I nodded, waving. I was afraid if I got up and walked him out, I’d end up pressed against another wall. But, then again, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Avery closed the door and let out a deep breath. “What the fuck was that?” “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you act like that,” she motioned to where I sat on my bed, hair mused, and lips swollen. “Trace turns you into a raging ball of hormones.” “Says the girl with a dick,” I muttered. She grinned. “That’s true.” “Seriously, though,” she sat down on the end of my bed, “did he explain what happened outside.” I told her what he said and she sat there, chewing on her bottom lip. “Huh. Interesting.” She scurried over to her own bed and I asked, “What are you thinking?” “Guys are just so weird,” she frowned, “and confusing. Nothing they do makes sense.” “Do you think he meant what he said?” I rolled over on my stomach, propping my chin on my hand. “Words are one thing, Olivia. Anyone can say anything, at any time. It’s actions that matter, not words,” she warned, leveling me with her green eyes. I pursed my lips. “Just…don’t get too attached,” she whispered. “Attachments cause broken hearts.” I hated to tell her, but it was too late for that.

Trace and I sat outside on one of the various benches dotting the campus grounds. It overlooked the pond and a cool wind swarmed around us. I bundled my jacket tighter against me, and Trace slung his arm across my shoulders, pulling me against his warmth. I burrowed my cold face against his neck. “Should we go inside? I don’t want you to get sick,” his lips brushed against my forehead. A week had passed since the incident at the pavilion. Neither of us had mentioned it, all that needed to be said had already been spoken, and there was no point dwelling on it. But like Avery had mentioned, actions spoke louder than words, and I could tell Trace was trying. He showed up a few days ago, on campus, and I spotted him easily. Trace wasn’t hard to miss. He waved me over to his car and we ate lunch together, laughing at random things, and getting to know each other better. When I went to get out of his car, to head to my next class, he handed me a single pink peony. I smiled the rest of the day. “No, I don’t want to go in,” I answered his question. “I like being outside.” “Me too,” he replied, his lips brushing against the top of my head again. “I don’t want to go home tomorrow,” I confessed. “Stay here,” he played with the wavy ends of my hair. “I can’t,” I frowned. “Residence halls close tomorrow.” “You can stay at my place,” he replied. I snuggled closer to his warm chest as a blast of wind hit us. “I don’t think we know each other well enough for that. Besides, my dad would hunt me down, and drag me home. He’s all about appearances,” I sneered the word. “When will you be back?” He asked. “Sunday,” I ground out the word. Because of drive time, I’d only be at my parents’ house for four days, but that was four days too long. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, letting my hair fall from his fingers. “I wish you didn’t have to go.” “Me too,” I replied. He grew quiet and I listened to the steady beating of his heart against my ear. “I think when you get back, you should get a tattoo,” he murmured, running his finger down my neck. “Really?” I asked. “So, is that what I’m doing next? I thought you weren’t going to tell me what we’re crossing off the list.” “Yeah, well,” he scratched his chin, “a tattoo is forever. I want you think about it while you’re on break. I want you to be one hundred percent sure of what you want.” “How many tattoos do you have?” I asked. He chuckled. “You mean you don’t know?” I blushed, figuring he was talking about the day I was ogling his bare chest.

“No,” I replied, glad he couldn’t see me blush. I still hadn’t figured out a way to stop blushing. “Well, I have Never Regret on the inner bicep of my left arm. A star on my wrist,” he showed that one to me. Rolling up his jacket and shirtsleeve, he showed me a cluster of overlapping triangles on the inner part of his right forearm. Some of them were colored in while others were blank. One of the triangles even had a watercolor look. They were beautiful. “There’s more, but I think, I’ll let you find those on your own,” he grinned, rolling his sleeves down. If I had been drinking something, it would have spewed out of my mouth at his words. Trace never ceased to shock me. You’d think I’d be used to all kinds of comments, living with Avery, but no. “What do you think I should get?” I asked. “Whatever you want, it’s your body,” he replied. “No one else can tell you what to get. It just has to mean something to you.” I mulled over his words, wondering exactly what his tattoos meant to him.

I pulled into the driveway of the large white colonial style home with black shutters. I should have felt like I was home, since this was where my parents lived, instead I felt like I had arrived at prison. “Four days, Olivia. Four days. You can do this,” I coached myself. I eased out of my car, as slowly as humanly possible, and stretched after the ten-hour drive. I had stopped a few times, but I wasn’t used to being in the car for a long time, and it had taken its toll on my body. Normal parents would have probably run out to greet their child that they hadn’t seen since August. Not mine. No, my mom had probably slaved away over the perfect dinner and was cleaning up from that, while my dad sat in his leather chair, reading the paper for the second time today. With a sigh, I grabbed my suitcase, and glumly made my way to the front door. I knocked on the door since I didn’t have a key. I heard the telltale slapping of my dad’s slippers against the hardwood floors and I flinched. I had hoped my mom would get the door. “Olivia,” he said my name like it was the dirtiest word in the dictionary. “You’re late. Based on the time when you called, and where you were at, you should’ve been here ten minutes ago,” he looked at his watch. His black wire framed glasses were perched on his nose, his gray hair was longer than the last time I saw it, and his beard thicker. I closed my eyes. “Sorry, traffic-” “That’s no excuse, you should have called to tell us you were running late,” he snapped, while I still stood outside. “I know,” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I apologize.” He stepped inside. “Stop standing outside. Your mom saved you a plate of dinner. It’s in the microwave. I expect you to eat it all and clean your plate after.” “Sure thing,” I mumbled. My dad still treated me like I was an incompetent toddler. He even treated my mom the same way. “What was that, Olivia?” He questioned and I felt his dark eyes searing a hole into my back. He’d never wanted a child, he told me that all the time growing up, but he needed one for appearances. Other than that, I was a hindrance. “Yes sir,” I managed to sound semi-polite, even though I wanted to chuck my suitcase at his bowling ball sized head. I left my suitcase by the stairs, praying he wouldn’t yell at me for that. I waited, but he said nothing and eventually, I heard the clacking of his slippers as he walked into the family room. Taking a shaky breath, I stepped hesitantly into the large kitchen. My mom was hunched over the large farmhouse sink, scrubbing away at pots, pans, and dishes by hand. We had a dishwasher but my dad wouldn’t let her use it. He claimed that they never got the dishes clean enough. My mom looked up, sweeping a lock of dark hair from her face, forcing a smile.

She had aged so much, in a short amount of time; the toll of my father was heavy on her shoulders. Her once bright smile was all but extinct and her shiny chestnut hair was dull and lifeless. Even her eyes, the eyes she gave me, were the same way, their copper color gone. I hated looking at my mom and knowing what my dad had done to her. I didn’t know what to do to help her. As a child, I begged her to leave him, but she was scared. I knew that’s why most people stayed in abusive relationships. Fear was crippling. “How’s school, Liv?” She whispered my nickname. My dad hated for me to be called anything but Olivia. “It’s great,” I sighed, reaching into the sudsy water to help her clean. “You don’t need to help me,” she scrubbed at a dish that looked pristine to me “Eat something. I’m sure you’re hungry,” she nodded towards the microwave. “I’m fine, let me help you,” I pleaded. She didn’t reply and I took that as my cue to continue cleaning. I helped her dry off the dishes and put them away. “I better get in there with your dad,” she said when the last dish was put away, her voice was barely above a whisper. I nodded. He’d come looking for her soon. After she finished cleaning the dishes he expected her to sit in the family room with him. I warmed up my dinner and the smell of homemade food elicited a growl from my stomach. I sat down at the dining room table with my plate. The table was so clean that I was pretty sure those CSI guys wouldn’t be able to find a fingerprint on it. I ate my dinner slowly, because if my dad thought I had eaten too fast, I’d be scolded for that. He was always looking for things to complain about. A piece of lint. A pea in his carrots. You name it and he’d find a way to whine about it. I made sure to eat every morsel on my plate, which wasn’t hard, because it was delicious, like everything my mom made. But I’m sure my dad didn’t bother to tell her it was good, he never did. He only told her what she did wrong, not what she did right, and the same with me. He couldn’t be pleased, simple as that. I cleaned, and dried my plate, stacking it in the cabinet. Although, I was tempted to put it in the dishwasher just for spite, but since I was afraid of his reaction, I didn’t. I stepped into the family room, my hands clasped behind my back. My mom didn’t look up from whatever it was she was knitting, which was normal. She was expected to be a meek submissive wife. My dad flicked the newspaper down, eyeing me. I knew I wasn’t allowed to speak first, so I waited for him to address me. “Yes?” He finally spoke, his voice booming. “I finished my dinner and cleaned my plate. I’d like to be excused for bed,” I said, staring him right in the eyes. He flicked a hand, and just like that, I was dismissed. I walked slowly until I was out of his line of vision, and grabbed my suitcase, carrying it upstairs. I closed my bedroom door for a moment of peace. The only time I was allowed to have my door closed was when I was changing. I checked my phone and there was a text from Trace. Hope u got home safe. If it gets bad come home. I’ll let you sleep in my bed. I promise to sleep on the couch like a good boy. ;) I smiled. Something I rarely did when I was stuck behind these walls. I’m here. Getting ready for bed. Miss u. Miss u 2. Think about that tattoo and I’ll think about mine. He replied. Ur getting another 1? I asked. U can never have 2 many tattoos.;) I had to agree with that. I loved Trace’s tattoos. Night, Olivia. And seriously, my place is yours if you need it. He texted a few seconds after his

previous message. Night. I’ll keep that in mind. :) I could tell he was worried about me being here, even though it was only for a few days. When I left early this morning, I was shocked to find him outside my dorm, leaning next to my car. He kissed me over and over again, like with each kiss he was trying to convince me to stay. It almost worked, but fear got the better of me. I didn’t want my dad driving all the way to Virginia and tracking me down. I turned my phone off since my dad frowned upon texting and tossed it onto my bed. It got lost in the sea of frilly white and pink blankets. My room hadn’t changed since I was five. The walls were a pale pink, teddy bears cluttered a corner, and white sheers kept anyone from peering in the large windows. This room should feel like an oasis, but I was more comfortable in my dorm room. At least it reflected me. This room was who my father wanted to pretend I was. I grabbed my pajamas from my suitcase and walked across the hall to shower. I wasn’t in there long, because my dad would have ended up banging on the door, yelling about all the water I was wasting. But by the time I got out, they were both in bed. “Olivia!” My dad called out before I could tiptoe across the hall to my room. “Yeah?” I replied, cursing everything I could think of. “Leave your door open,” he warned. I rolled my eyes since he couldn’t see me. “I know,” I muttered. I made sure to leave the door wide open, not cracked, and climbed into bed. But I couldn’t sleep. I never could when I was here. I don’t know what I was waiting for, but it was something.

My dad had the Kirkpatrick family, who were members of his church, over for Thanksgiving dinner. “Sit there and look pretty,” my dad had told me before they showed up. It was no surprise when Kevin Kirkpatrick sat down beside me. He was a year older than me, and my dad had planned our wedding and named our children, by the time I was four and he was five. I had news for my daddy-o, I would rather stab myself in the eye than marry Kevin. All he talked about was himself. If I had to hear one more time about how he did this…or that…I was going to scream bloody murder. Finally, for my sanity’s sake, I tuned him out, and pretended to listen, inserting a nod here and there. Kevin didn’t even notice that I wasn’t paying attention. Pretentious jerk. I ate my dinner slowly as my dad played the part of the perfect husband and father. Telling those gathered how well I was doing in college. He didn’t even know what I was studying to be. Kevin’s hand brushed against mine and I scooted a teensy bit farther away. I didn’t want him touching me. There was only one man I wanted to touch me, in any way, and he was ten hours away. Kevin tapped my shoulder. “You’re not listening to a thing I say, are you?” “Of course I am,” I pretended to be hurt that he thought I was ignoring him. “You were talking about how you play tennis.” And just like that he started talking again. He was so egotistical that I almost felt sorry for him. I zoned out again, ignoring not only Kevin, but everyone around me. I wanted this to be over. Not only today, but the whole weekend. I was desperate to get back home. I was probably the only college student who thought of her school as home, but that’s what it was. Once I graduated, I had no plans to move back to New Hampshire. Kevin’s arm brushed against mine, and he was lucky I was a nice person, and didn’t stab him with my fork. I heard my dad mention something about desert and I breathed a sigh of relief. This Hell on Earth was almost over. I helped my mom clear away the plates, thankful for the respite from Kevin, and helped her carry out the various pies. I swear, she must have made one of each. French Silk. Apple. Cherry. Pumpkin.

They were all there. I waited until everyone else had gotten theirs before snagging a giant piece of homemade French Silk pie. It was so delicious that I wanted to moan in ecstasy, but my dad would kill me if I started making sex noises at the table. “Thank you, for the lovely meal, Nora,” Kevin’s mom, Linda, said. “I’m sure it took you hours.” “It was no bother,” my dad replied, because apparently his name was Nora now. Linda sported a tight-lipped smile as she looked between my dad and mom. “Yes, well, thank you as well for inviting us, Aaron.” He nodded. “You and your family are welcome here anytime,” he lifted his wine glass in salute. He wouldn’t let my mom drink wine, the controlling bastard. “Are you enjoying school?” Linda asked me with a bright smile. I had always liked her, but right now, I was irritated with her son and therefore her. I wanted her, Kevin, and her husband to leave, so I could wash the dishes and hide in my bedroom until tomorrow morning. “It’s great,” I answered, sipping at my glass of water, because my dad didn’t let us drink soda or my favorite, sweet tea. I had never had sweet tea until I moved to Virginia for school, but after trying it, it had become my favorite drink. “That’s good to hear,” she wiped her mouth free of pie crumbs. She was the same age as my mom, but she looked ten years younger. Her light blonde hair glowed and her blue eyes were bright. A few wrinkles crinkled the corners of her mouth and eyes, but they weren’t that noticeable. “What was it your dad said you’re studying?” Linda asked. I scooted a little bit farther away from Kevin, whose leg had just brushed mine, before answering her. “He didn’t,” I mumbled low enough that no one heard. “I’m studying to be an English teacher.” “Oh, isn’t that…nice,” she smiled. I wanted to growl. It was like everyone looked down at you when you said you wanted to be a teacher. I guess it all came back to that saying; those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach. “What grade are you thinking about teaching?” She asked. “High school, I haven’t decided on what year yet, though,” I shrugged. “I told Olivia that she should follow in her old man’s footsteps,” my dad chuckled. I snorted and he glared at me. I’d pay for that later. “Teaching is a very rewarding and respectable career,” I countered. “I’ll be teaching people, just like you do, father,” I smiled cheerfully at him, even though cheerful was the last thing I felt. “No, not like I do, Olivia,” he narrowed his dark brown eyes at me, peering at me above the rim of his glasses. “I teach people about the meaning of faith and God. You’ll be teaching people useless information that won’t help them to reach heaven come judgment day.” Somebody stab me in the eye. My father was one of the most ungodly men to ever walk the planet. Who was he to preach? I wanted to tell him we’d see where he went come judgment day. I’d bet money it wasn’t to heaven. “Yes, well,” I muttered with a shrug. I knew I better stop talking before I got myself in trouble…well, into more trouble than I was already in. “Kevin’s studying to be an architect,” Linda’s husband, William, informed me. “I think he mentioned that already,” I replied, my sarcasm falling on deaf ears. Thirty minutes later, the Kirkpatrick’s left, and I wanted to dance for joy. “Olivia,” my dad’s voice boomed as he came into the kitchen. My shoulders tensed as I leaned over the sink, my fingers raw from scrubbing. “Your behavior tonight was unacceptable, a downright embarrassment.” I swallowed thickly, shoving my hair out of my face. “What exactly did I say that was unacceptable, sir?” I steeled my shoulders. My mom had stiffened beside me, but she went on scrubbing, like nothing was happening. “You completely ignored poor Kevin, the boy’s infatuated with you, Olivia. The least you could do is carry on a conversation and see where it goes,” he reasoned. My hands clenched into fists beneath the water, thank God I wasn’t holding a knife, or I would’ve sliced my hand open. “We were talking,” I argued, “Kevin was telling me all about his time at school and his volunteer

work. It was fascinating,” I snapped. His eyes widened. “Don’t sass me,” he barked and I flinched. I held my breath so I didn’t cry. “When you’re under my roof,” he roared, pointing to the ceiling, “you are to act a certain way! I knew letting you go off to college that far away was a bad idea! You should have stayed here where I could’ve supervised you! God only knows what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into! You’re a disgrace, Olivia! This is why I wanted a son!” He ranted. “A son would never disappoint his father this way! But a daughter,” he growled, striding over to me, and grabbing my hair. I yelped, tears burning my eyes. “A daughter is nothing but trouble.” He had never grabbed me like this before; he preferred to hurt me with words. “Let me go, please, let me go,” I begged. He did, giving me a shove so that I went sprawling on the floor. He stomped out of the kitchen, his steps echoing through the house. Air crawled through my chest, escaping in strangled gasps. I wrapped my arms around my legs, holding myself together. My mom sank to the ground beside me, wrapping me in her arms, and gently rocking me back and forth. Her fingers smoothed through my hair. She didn’t say anything and I didn’t either. There was nothing we could say. But we still sat, united, both victims of a man we should trust.

I pulled into the parking lot of my dorm and a weight lifted off my shoulders. I was finally home and I could breathe. I felt like I had been holding my breath the entire time I had been away. I carried my suitcase up to my dorm and found Avery sitting on the bed. She immediately hopped up, hugging me. “I missed you, Livie.” “I missed you too,” I replied, letting go of my suitcase. “Did you have a good Thanksgiving?” I asked, stepping out of her embrace. “My parents weren’t home,” she shrugged like it was no big deal. “And my brothers didn’t bother to come home either.” “You mean you were alone in that big house, the whole break?” I unzipped my suitcase and started putting things away. “Well,” she laughed, “I wasn’t really alone.” “Luca?” I questioned, turning around to face her. She smiled, completely enamored. “I don’t know what it is about him, Livie. He makes me feel…” She trailed off. “I can’t explain it.” “That’s nice,” I forced a smile, even though I wasn’t quite sold on Luca. He reminded me of a barbarian. A hot barbarian but still… “I think I’m really falling for him,” she murmured wistfully. I made a strangled noise in the back of my throat as I choked on my own saliva. “Really?” I asked with a high voice. “Yeah,” she ran her fingers nervously through her hair. “You don’t know him like I do. He doesn’t talk much when he’s around other people, but he’s really started to open up to me, and I…” She blushed. Avery never blushed. “Are you falling for him, or have you already fallen?” I raised a brow. She swallowed, biting her lip. “I don’t know. What about you and Trace?” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know, either. It seems like it’s impossible to fall for someone so quickly, someone you barely know,” I shrugged. “I know what you mean,” she breathed. “This whole love thing is so confusing,” Avery pouted. “And I have a feeling it never gets less confusing,” I mumbled, putting the last of my things away.

“Jesus Christ! Don’t do that!” I exclaimed as I stepped outside my dorm and found Trace leaning against the building. “I think I almost peed my pants!” He chuckled and his voice rumbled, “We can pick up some Depends on our way to the tattoo shop,” he

nodded towards his car. “Tattoo?” Avery asked from behind me. I had completely forgotten she was there. “Are you getting a tattoo, Livie?” “Um, yeah,” I mumbled, stepping back, looking from her to Trace. I knew I had probably paled at least ten shades and I felt sick to my stomach. “Can I come?” She asked, looking between Trace and I. “I’ve been wanting to get one but I haven’t had the chance to go. I mean, feel free to say no. I don’t want to be intruding-” She rambled. “It’s fine with me,” Trace looked at me, making sure I was okay with that. “It’s not a problem,” I assured her. “Great,” she beamed. “I was supposed to meet Luca, but let me call and tell him there’s been a change of plans,” she grinned, walking off, with her phone glued to her ear. “So,” Trace grinned crookedly, “have you thought about want you want to get.” “Live,” I answered. I honestly hadn’t thought about my tattoo at all, while I was at home, but as the word left my lips I knew it was perfect. “Live,” he murmured. “That’s perfect for you.” I smiled. Avery walked up to us, her phone tucked back in her purse. “Can you give me a ride?” She asked Trace. “Luca will meet us there, then he’ll drive me back here, after we have dinner.” “That’s not a problem,” Trace replied. “Thank you!” Avery clapped her hands together. Entwining one of her arms through mine, she exclaimed, “We’re getting tattoos, Livie!” Avery climbed into the backseat of the old Camaro while I sat up front with Trace. He drove into old town Winchester, parking in front of the tattoo shop. He’d held my hand the whole way. Trace could tell I was nervous. Heck, the way I kept chewing on my fingernails anyone could see that I was nervous. He inserted change into the parking meter and motioned Avery and I to follow him inside. As soon as the bell above the door chimed, a guy covered in tattoos looked up, grinning. “Hey, Trace, I knew you’d be back soon.” He called into the back. “Brian! Trace is here!” Trace turned to me, explaining in a hushed tone, “This is Justin. I went to high school with him and Brian.” “Yeah,” Justin piped in, rubbing a hand over his buzzed cut scalp. “We used to get into all kinds of trouble back in the day.” “It wasn’t that long ago,” Trace chuckled, “stop trying to make me sound old.” “Longer than you think,” the guy I assumed was Brian entered the room. He had dark wavy brown hair and tattoos covered both of his arms. “What can we do for you today?” He asked. “Ladies?” “Hmm,” Trace mused, “why are we here again? I forgot.” “Always a smartass, this one,” Justin pointed to Trace but he was looking at me. “Watch yourself with him.” “I think I can handle him,” I spoke up, causing Justin to laugh. The door opened behind us and Luca stepped inside. The guys greeted Luca before leading us to the back. “How’re we going to do this?” Justin asked, eyeing all of us. “We’ll take a room and they’ll take another,” Trace replied, gripping my hand. Justin’s eyes narrowed on our clasped hands before he grinned. “I’m sure you will. Brian, think you can handle those two?” Justin nodded at Avery and Luca. Brian chuckled. “I can handle anything.” He flipped a light on in a room and motioned them inside. Justin led Trace and me to the next room. Shrugging out of his leather jacket, Trace asked, “Do you want me to go first?” “No,” I shook my head. “I’m afraid if I watch you, I’ll chicken out.” “Fair enough,” he grinned, sitting down in a vacant chair. “Do you know what you want?” Justin asked. “Yeah,” I replied, figuring he was expecting me to say I wanted a butterfly or something like that. “I want the word, live, here,” I pointed to the outside part of my left forearm. “Pick your font,” he pointed to a poster. I made a face. I hated all of them.

Justin chuckled at my expression. “Can I get my friend to write it down?” I asked. I had heard of people getting tattoos in a person’s handwriting and I knew Avery’s handwriting was nicer than any of these fonts. “Sure,” he shrugged. “I’ll be right back.” He grabbed a pen and paper, leaving Trace and I alone. “The fonts are kind of sucky,” he commented. Justin returned in no time, holding up the piece of paper for my inspection. “Perfect,” I replied, and he went to work transferring the word onto another type of paper. “What are you getting?” I asked Trace. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he chuckled. “I told you what I was getting!” I cried. “You’re just going to have to wait and see,” he smiled. “Patience.” “Ready?” Justin asked suddenly. I sat back in the chair. “Yep,” I held out my arm for him to place the word on my skin. “Is this where you want it?” He asked, before pressing it in. I looked in the mirror and instructed him to move it a little bit. “Perfect,” I told him. “What color ink do you want?” He asked, putting on gloves. “Black,” I answered. I took a deep breath as he got everything ready. “Ready?” He asked again, holding the tattoo gun in one hand, and sliding a stool over. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, and felt Trace’s hand grip mine. “Look at me,” Trace commanded, “it’ll be over before you know it.” I nodded at Justin to start and then locked my eyes on Trace. He distracted me by talking about random things, and at one point, he started kissing me, which Justin scolded us for, because I started wiggling. “Done,” Justin announced, laying the gun down on a table. “Want to see?” “Of course,” I replied giddily. I stood up and he closed the door, revealing a floor length mirror. I held my arm up and couldn’t help the goofy smile that formed on my face. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” The tattoo was small and simple, but I loved it. It was perfect for me and the meaning behind it was what mattered. All I was doing, was trying to live my life, and this tattoo would remind me of that every day. live I knew that I couldn’t have picked anything more important to put on my body. When I finished looking at it, Justin rubbed some kind of ointment over it, and taped a bandage around it, going over the rules for keeping it clean. He finished and I turned around to see Trace removing his standard plaid shirt and then yanking off his white t-shirt by hooking his thumbs into the back collar. His back muscles rippled and flexed, causing my heart to stutter. Unlike the last time I saw him shirtless, I forced myself not to get distracted. I noticed that there was a fleur de lis tattoo between his shoulders. Low enough that it didn’t peek out of his shirts, and small, maybe only three inches. There was also some kind of script on top of his shoulder but I couldn’t read what it said from where I stood. “What are you getting today?” Justin asked, disinfecting the equipment. “A four leaf clover,” Trace answered, taking a seat. I stepped closer to him, leaning down, to peer at the tattoo over his heart. The words, ‘To live in the hearts you leave behind is not to die,’ formed the shape of a heart with the initials, T.W., inside. “For your dad?” I asked shakily. “Yeah,” he replied, studying my face. “And what does this one say?” I pointed to the tattoo in small script on top of his shoulder. “Inhale the future, exhale the past,” he answered. “Hmm,” I murmured. “What are you thinking?” He raised a dark brow. “I honestly don’t know,” I whispered, my eyes roaming over the tattoos and his chest. “Is this good?” Justin asked. I had completely forgotten he was in the room. Trace appraised the design and nodded. “And where do you want it?”

“Here,” Trace pointed to a spot on his right side, below another line of script. I couldn’t read that one either and something told me not to ask what it said. Justin pressed the design into Trace’s skin and scooted the stool to Trace’s side. Trace grinned up at me from where he sat as the needle roared to life. “Hold my hand? I’m scared,” he winked, reaching out for my hand. I rolled my eyes but placed my hand in his anyway. “I’m sure you’re really scared,” I replied sarcastically. “Terrified,” his lips quirked as he withheld laughter. “Are you guys dating?” Justin asked, eyes intent upon his work. “Uh-” I stuttered. “Yes,” Trace replied and my eyes widened. Justin chuckled. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you date a girl since Aubrey.” My whole body stiffened at the sound of another girl’s name. Trace’s hand tightened against mine and his jaw clenched. “When you know it’s right, it’s right.” “Yeah, well,” Justin shrugged, wiping away excess ink, “I still thought no one would ever tie you down again.” Trace made a face of disgust, and turned away from me, but he didn’t release my hand. Justin finished the tattoo, and went through the same procedure with Trace, as he did with me. We each paid him, because I demanded that I pay for my own, and headed back to the front. Avery and Luca were already waiting there for us. “I wanted to see your tattoo before we left,” Avery explained. “Especially since it’s in my handwriting,” she danced. I peeled back one side of the wrapping and showed her. “It came out so pretty!” She exclaimed. “What did you get?” I asked. She turned to the side and lifted a tiny bandage behind her ear, showing me an anchor, no more than half an inch big. “Isn’t it cute?” She asked, her green eyes wide like she was afraid I was about to tell her it was horrible. “Oooh, I love it,” I told her. She smiled in response, putting the bandage back over it. “I’ll see you tonight,” she smiled, taking Luca’s hand, and headed outside. I waved goodbye to Justin and Brian. Trace was quiet as we got into the car but I wasn’t about to let him stay that way. “Who’s Aubrey?” I asked. I had to know and couldn’t keep quiet about it any longer. Trace sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was really hoping that you would forget about that,” he mumbled. “I’m a girl, we forget nothing,” I retorted. “Now, answer the question.” “She’s my ex,” he rubbed his jaw. “Care to elaborate,” I snapped. Trace glanced at me, then back to the road. “We dated in high school,” he muttered. “How long?” “Do you really need to know all of this?” He asked, staring at me for a moment, with darkened eyes. “You said we were dating, I think that gives me a right to know who, and what my competition is,” I whispered, feeling insecure. Trace sighed. “We dated for four years before it ended. We grew apart and there was no spark anymore. I’m not sure there was a spark to begin with,” he shrugged. “We were young. It’s in the past. And just so you know, there is no competition.” “You haven’t…dated anyone since her?” I asked. “No,” his hands tightened on his jaw. I could tell he was holding back, so I pleaded, “Please, Trace.” He took a deep breath. “We were still together senior year of high school, but when my dad died, the last thing I wanted was a relationship.” He wet his lips and continued. “I quit the baseball team and turned to alcohol and random sex to fill the void inside me.” My heart constricted at his words. I was no longer concerned about faceless Aubrey, he was obviously

over her, but I felt compelled to know more. “Did you?” I asked. “Did I what?” He glanced at me with a furrowed brow before his eyes darted back to the road. “Did you fill the void?” I questioned. He looked at me significantly, sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine. I didn’t understand how Trace could affect me so much, with just a look and a few words. “Not with that…but I think maybe I’ve finally found something to fill it.” “And what would that be?” My breath escaped from between my lips with a tiny sigh. “You,” he answered. I swallowed, waiting for him to crack a joke or flash me his signature cocky grin, but he didn’t. He was serious and I was flabbergasted. “Me?” I squeaked, causing him to chuckle. “That’s what I said,” now, he was grinning, but his eyes were still serious. “Stop looking at me, you’re going to crash the car!” I exclaimed, needing a reprieve from the intensity of his stare. He laughed. “I’m not going to crash.” Maybe not, but he was certainly going to give me a heart attack. He pulled into the campus parking lot and before I could talk myself out of it, I asked, “Do you…want to…uh…come up to my dorm…I mean-” I stuttered. He silenced me with a kiss. “Is that a yes?” I asked. “That was definitely a yes,” he winked. My eyes widened, hoping I hadn’t given him the wrong impression. “And no, Olivia, I don’t expect anything, so stop looking at me like that.” “Sorry,” I blushed, and got out of his car as quickly as possible, walking briskly to the dorm entrance. “Don’t be sorry,” he caught up to me easily and his arm wrapped around my waist. He followed me up to my room and I stopped at the door, turning to look up at him, a question arising in my mind. “How did you get in the dorm that night and figure out which room was mine? They keep the main doors locked.” He grinned, the panty-dropping one, and replied, “I have my ways.” “Oh, I’m sure you do,” I mumbled, opening up the door, and quickly closing it behind him. “It’s pretty nice in here,” he mused, looking around, taking everything in. “For a dorm, yeah. Avery and I tried to make it homey,” I shrugged, kicking my shoes off, and letting me feet sink into the fluffy yellow rug we had purchased to hide the tile floors. “I wish she’d take that down,” I nodded to the Drake poster. Trace chuckled. “It is kind of…large.” I removed my jacket and hung it on the hook attached to the door. “Make yourself at home,” I motioned to the small space. “No need to just stand there.” “Does this mean I can make myself comfortable on your bed?” He raised a dark brow and his stare caused a fire to roar through my body. “Anywhere you want,” I swallowed and took a step back. “Anywhere?” he stepped forward so that the distance I had created was affectively cut off. I nodded as he removed his jacket. I kept backing up and he kept following until I bumped into the desk next to my bed. His arms caged around me, locking me in. I gulped, staring up at him with wide eyes, feeling like a cornered animal. He leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin below my ear, as he said, “I can see your pulse racing,” his hand cupped my neck and my heart skipped a beat in response. “I like that you’re affected by me.” His hand trailed lazily up and down my neck. I shivered, eyes closing. “I really missed you while you were gone,” he whispered huskily, his lips brushing over my cheekbone. “Y-you d-did?” I stammered. “Very much,” he murmured, cupping my chin and tracing my bottom lip with his thumb. “You’re special to me, Olivia.” “I-I am?” My voice faltered. “Mhmm,” He hummed, skimming his nose along my jawline. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispered.

“O-okay,” I stuttered and then gasped as his lips descended on mine. My hands fisted in his shirt as I plastered my body against his. I couldn’t get close enough to him. His hands had somehow moved from my face, to rest below my breasts, and they were moving lower. His fingers skimmed over the flare of my hips, and gripped me, lifting me effortlessly so I could wrap my legs around his waist. He deepened the kiss, his tongue begging for entrance, as his hands glided under the edge of my shirt. The feel of his hands on the bare skin of my stomach made my heart race faster. He turned, backing me into the bed, and laying me down on top. He maneuvered me, without breaking the kiss, so that my head was cradled on my pillow. He held himself above me, one hand on each side of my head. Ten minutes ago, I had been freaking out about him mistaking my intentions for inviting him into my dorm room, and now I was clawing at his shirt, desperate to remove it. If he didn’t take it off himself, I’d find a way to rip it off. That was the power my raging hormones had over me. He rose up, yanking his plaid shirt off and the t-shirt below it, tossing them to the floor. My hands roamed over his bare chest as my lips sought his once more. The warmth of his body heated me further. I was sure I was sweating, but I was so absorbed in everything that I was feeling, I didn’t even worry about it. My hands slid up his stomach, exploring his abs, before settling on his chest. His heart beat steadily underneath my right palm, and when I circled one of his nipples with a finger, it skipped a beat. He hummed in satisfaction, his tongue stroking mine. I cupped his neck, with one hand, and the other ventured south once more. Back over the ridges of his abdominal muscles and lower, to the V and the trail of hair that I knew disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. My fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they yanked at his belt buckle. Abruptly, he withdrew his lips, and he clasped his hand over mine. He didn’t move it right away, just held it. “No, Olivia,” he said sternly, his green eyes nearly black as he looked down at me. “But-” I could feel his erection pressed against me and I felt like I was ready. I had had sex before, what was the big deal? He swallowed, looking pained. “In the parking lot you were scared that I’d read into you inviting me up here. You may think you’re ready, but you’re not, Olivia. When I make love to you, you’ll be ready, you’ll be begging, and-” he bent to whisper huskily in my ear, “you’ll be wet for me.” I wanted to tell him that I was sure my panties were soaked now. Raising back up, he murmured, “And I’m definitely not having sex with you in your dorm room where everybody can you hear you scream my name.” An impish grin lifted his lips, “On second thought, that could prove interesting.” I smacked his shoulder. “I was kidding,” he chuckled. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.” He nuzzled my neck, whispering, “When I finally make love to you, you’re going to be in my bed, and I’m never letting you leave.” His fingers tangled in my hair and I gasped in pain as he touched the tender part of my scalp where my dad had pulled my hair. He pulled away, slowly, untangling his fingers from my hair. He tilted his head questioningly, “I know I didn’t pull your hair.” “You didn’t,” I confirmed. “Then?” He questioned. “It’s sore,” I mumbled, turning my head away from him. “Sore from what?” He hissed. “My dad yanked me by my hair,” I whispered, biting down on my bottom lip. Trace gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “He hurt you,” he stated. I nodded, swallowing thickly. “Olivia,” he pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “It’s my burden to bear,” I whispered. “No, it’s not,” he growled, sitting up and pulling me on his lap. He gently probed the back of my skull and I winced again. “No one should ever have to endure something like this.” “He’s never hurt me physically before-” Trace put a hand over my mouth, his eyes steely. “Do not make excuses for that bastard. He hurt you.

I remember what you said about your dad, and I’m sure he hurt you more than just physically, while you were home.” I nodded. Trace closed his eyes and swallowed. “I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you in any way. I don’t even know the man but I want to hunt him down and rip him apart. I want him to hurt worse than he’s hurt you.” I burrowed against his warm, still naked chest. His hands rubbed up and down my back comfortingly. “Does he hurt your mom?” I pulled back. “Verbally? All the time. Physically? I-I think so. I saw bruises on her arm this time,” I bit my lip to hold back tears. “She didn’t mean for me to see them but when I was leaving to come back to school, she reached out to hug me and her sleeve slid up. They-they were in the shape of fingerprints,” I swallowed. Air hissed through his teeth. “Why doesn’t she leave?” “Fear,” I replied instantly. “My dad’s highly respected in our small town. He’d paint her in a bad light if she left and everyone would believe him. But to be honest with you,” I swallowed thickly, “I’m afraid that if she did try to leave him, he’d get angry enough to kill her. His temper is…volatile.” “I’m so sorry you’ve had to grow up in a household like that, if I could change it for you, I would,” he pressed his forehead against mine, our noses brushing together. “If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here with you,” I whispered, cupping his cheeks, stubble rubbing against my palms. I forced a smile, and added, “Even if I was here, we probably still wouldn’t have met. Things happen for a reason, Trace, and it’s usually so we can find greater things in life. There can’t be good without bad and vice versa. I wouldn’t wish away my life, because then I wouldn’t be here, and I think here is a pretty good place.” His soft chuckle shook my body lightly. “How about I reword that?” He asked rhetorically. “I wish you didn’t have to grow up with a dad like that, but I don’t regret meeting you. I don’t regret anything with you,” he lifted one of my hands from his cheek and kissed my palm. “I wish I could take your pain away, but I would never wish you away. “That makes me happy,” I murmured. “All I ever want to do is make you happy,” his hands rubbed up and down my back. “I never want to see you frown or cry because of me.” I couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t know you could be serious.” He chuckled. “It’s rare, but it happens.” I sobered. “I’m sorry for pestering you about Aubrey, I just…I needed to know.” “I understand,” he sighed. I didn’t want us to dwell on his ex, so I grinned, “You played baseball?” I asked, remembering him mentioning that he had quit after his dad died. He groaned, banging his head lightly against the wall. “Yeah.” “I bet you looked cute in that uniform,” I ran a finger over his collarbone. He pretended to be angry. “Cute? Baby, I was hot in that uniform.” “Hmm,” I hummed. “Is that something I might see?” He smirked. “I might be able to make that happen.”

“Rise and shine!” Avery chirped, tapping my foot. Why was I on top of the covers? And why was I laying on something hard and warm? I rose up, cracking my eyes open, and discovered that Trace was asleep in my bed. Oh, crap. Since it was only large enough for one person, I had ended up cradled against his chest. I really hoped I hadn’t drooled, that’d be beyond embarrassing. “Next time,” Avery winked, “hang something on the door to warn me.” “Avery!” I shrieked, startling Trace. “We didn’t do anything!” “I know,” she cackled, “I just wanted to watch your ears turn red.” Trace sat up, rubbing his eyes, and stretched his arms above his head. The muscles in his chest flexed with the movement. “Sorry,” he yawned, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Where’s my shirt?” He looked around. “The floor,” Avery answered, grinning from ear to ear. “Right,” he drew out the word, smirking. “Someone wanted me to take it off.” My face flamed. Avery held out a Starbucks coffee cup for each of us. “I don’t blame her,” she laughed as Trace took the offered cup, “it’s a nice chest.” I spat out the coffee I had taken a sip of. I was going to have to stop drinking liquids around Avery. It was proving dangerous. She laughed at my reaction. “Just because I’m with Luca doesn’t mean I can’t look.” “It should,” I grumbled, glaring at the droplets of coffee now staining my bed. “Thanks for the coffee,” Trace saluted Avery as he hopped out of my bed and bent to pick up his shirts. He placed the cup on my desk as he pulled them on. He was adorably bedraggled and if Avery wasn’t here, I might have begged him to stay. “I’ll call you later,” he whispered in my ear and then pecked me on the lips. He grabbed the coffee cup and opened the door. “Later, Avery,” he called over his shoulder, as he eased the door shut, “and thanks for the coffee.” “Not a problem,” she hollered after him. Looking back at me, with a smirk, she shook her head, “Look at you, Livie. Letting a boy sleep in your bed. I would have went crazy ginger on your ass, but since it was obvious no hanky panky went down, I decided to let it slide.” She pulled her desk chair out and sat down. “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I mumbled, running my fingers through my tangled hair. “Really, it’s okay,” she chirped, spinning in her chair. I didn’t know how she managed not to spill her coffee. “I was kind of surprised when I opened the door and found you both curled up like that. It was cute.” “What time did you get in?” I questioned, sipping at my caramel latte.

“Late,” she grinned. “I should’ve known,” I laughed lightly. “We can’t all be a goody two-shoes like you,” she mumbled. I rolled my eyes. “I’m far from that.” “Olivia, if there was a picture next to the word perfection in the dictionary, it would be you,” she finished her coffee and tossed it at the trash can, missing. I gritted my teeth. There was that word again. Perfection. The single thing I had strived to be my whole life and now, I felt angry that Avery was telling me I was perfect. “There’s no such thing as perfect,” I muttered quietly, picking at a loose thread on my comforter. She did another spin in her chair. “I know that. I was only picking on you. Sometimes, you don’t know how to take a joke.” She wrapped a piece of hair around her finger. I finished my coffee and stood. “I’m going to take a shower and then I have a lot of work to do, what with finals being this week.” My stomach clenched at my own words. Campus would be closed for a whole month. A whole month trapped in New Hampshire with my dad. Four days had been too long. Four weeks would kill me. But I had no choice. There was nowhere else for me to go. Avery pretended to gag. “Ugh, finals.” I opened the bathroom door and Avery said, “Hey, before finals are over, and you head home, we should have a girl’s day.” “Sounds great,” I smiled.

Finals were kicking my butt. Then again, I had thought the same thing last year, and passed with flying colors. I walked out of the classroom, breathing a sigh of relief. Finals were done, but tomorrow I had to go home. My phone rang and I pulled it out of my pocket. “Hey, Avery,” I answered. “Are you almost back to the dorm? It’s time for our girl’s day,” she sing-songed. “I’m walking back now,” I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder as I adjusted my grip on the books in my arm. “Drop your stuff off and then meet me at my car,” she commanded and hung up before I could reply. “So, bossy,” I snapped at the dead line. I left my books and backpack at the dorm, and while I was there, I pulled my hair back in a ponytail, desperate to get the long strands out of my face. My phone rang again and I wasn’t surprised to see that it was Avery calling. “I’m coming,” I growled into the phone. “Just checking. I was afraid you might have chickened out on me,” she chimed. “Nope, I’m leaving the dorm right now.” I hung up and speed walked outside before she came after me. “Took you long enough,” Avery laughed when I slid into her red Beetle. Buckling my seatbelt, I snapped, “You are so impatient. I had to drop off my stuff.” “I’ve learned that patience never gets me what I want,” she chortled. “What is it, exactly, that you’re subjecting me to on this girl’s day?” I asked. “We’re getting our nails and toes painted,” she grinned. “Avery!” I groaned. “You know I hate getting my nails done! The last time I went with you that guy made me bleed!” “It was one time, Olivia,” she shook her head. “I highly doubt he’ll cut you again.” “We’re going to the same place?!” I shrieked. “Well, duh, I always go to the same place,” she merged into the right lane as the strip mall came into view. I saw the sign for the nail place from here and squirmed in my seat. “Honestly, Olivia, you act like I’m sending you in front of the firing squad. This is supposed to be relaxing and I wanted to talk to you. I feel like we’re both either studying, or out, these days. You go back home tomorrow and I won’t see you for a whole month.” “You’re right,” I sighed as she parked in front of the nail salon.

We stepped inside the small salon and the smell of acetone permeated the air. Avery explained what we wanted done and one of the ladies working there got two of the pedicure chairs ready. “Pick your color,” she pointed to rows upon rows of nail polish. Avery didn’t think twice before picking a shade of red. I picked out a bright sky-blue. I took the seat next to Avery and rolled up my jeans. Placing my feet in the warm water, I handed the color I had chosen to the nail tech. “How are things with Luca? Are you guys…serious?” I glanced over at her. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by probing…then again, I didn’t think anything made Avery uncomfortable. “We haven’t put a label on our relationship but neither of us are seeing other people,” she shrugged. “I really like him.” I grinned. “It’s about time and it sounds pretty serious to me. Normally, you’re like a guy, and the minute the chase is over, you’re done.” She sighed. “I am normally like that,” she smoothed her hands over her jean clad legs. “Luca is different. Most guys don’t want to get to know me. They’re happy to fuck and leave,” she shrugged, not at all concerned that the people around us could hear every word she was saying. “But not Luca. I thought he’d be like all the others, but he wanted to get to know me, and Olivia…I found myself opening up to him, and that’s not something I do.” “I’m happy you’ve found someone, Avery,” I reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I am too,” she smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “What is it?” I asked. “You look worried about something.” “It’s just…how long can it last?” She looked over at me with wide green eyes. I had never seen Avery look so upset before. “We never know how long anything can last. We have to decide if it’s worth the risk,” I explained. She nodded. “He’s worth it.”

A weight had settled in my chest and it wouldn’t go away. I didn’t want to go back home. I didn’t want to deal with my father and I didn’t want to watch my robot mother. The summer months I had spent at home, had drained me completely, and I knew the next four weeks would take their toll as well. What was supposed to be a break for students, wouldn’t be for me. I would spend the whole time on edge, waiting for my dad to blow up. I zipped my suitcase closed. We had only been back on campus for a week, after Thanksgiving break, and now I had to leave again. I wished I could hide in my dorm. “Hey,” Avery said softly behind me, “you can come stay at my house. My parents probably won’t even be there.” I turned around slowly to face her. Avery knew about the verbal abuse, but I hadn’t told her about my dad yanking me by the hair. “Thank you for offering, Avery. Really. You don’t know how much it means to me, but I can’t impose myself on you like that.” “It’s no trouble at all, honestly,” she moved her bags closer to the door. Avery’s family lived local to the college but she insisted that she stay on campus. When I asked her about it once, she said that she couldn’t stand being in that big house by herself. It reminded her of how alone she really was. “I’ll be fine,” I took a deep breath. “Will you?” She asked with a raised brow and tilted her head. “Yeah, of course,” I replied, praying she would drop it. The truth was, I would have loved to stay with Avery, but since my dad was expecting me home, staying wasn’t an option. “Alright,” she sighed and hugged me. “Call or text me, anytime.” “I will,” I hugged her tighter. She pulled away and grabbed her bags. The door clicked closed behind her and I was alone. I sat down on my bed. Everything was packed and I really needed to get on the road. It would be late

when I finally arrived at home but I couldn’t make myself leave just yet. The door opened and I didn’t bother to look over. Avery was always forgetting things. “What did you forget this time?” I laughed. “I didn’t forget anything.” “Trace,” I gasped and looked up to see him standing in the doorway. “How do you keep getting in here?” “Avery let me in,” he grinned crookedly. “I was afraid you had left already but your car was still here.” He came in the rest of the way and closed the door behind him. “I wish I had seen more of you this week, but I knew you were busy with finals.” “Yeah,” I sighed. I knew Trace and I were dating, but I had wanted to leave before I saw him. This was making it even harder to go. I didn’t want to say goodbye to him. If we were still together, by the time classes ended for the year, I was sure it would kill me to leave him. “Hey,” he breathed, his eyes narrowing as he strode across the room, and pulled me off of my bed and into his arms. “Don’t look so sad.” “I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” my voice cracked. He pushed me back a little so he could stare into my eyes. “This isn’t goodbye, Olivia. This is just…see you later. Okay? I’m not going anywhere.” He swallowed thickly. “I can see in your eyes that you think I’m going to be gone when you come back, but that isn’t true. I’ll be waiting for you.” His lips skimmed over the curve of my ear. “I like spending time with you and—” his lips lightly brushed against mine, “—kissing you. I like hearing the small little gasps you make when I touch you in certain places.” To prove a point, his fingers glided down my neck, and over the curve of my breast, eliciting a gasp from me. Grinning, he added, “Plus, we still have things to cross off that list of yours.” With a husky chuckle, he whispered in my ear, “I’m especially looking forward to the pole dancing.” “I’m sure you are,” I gasped, my eyes fluttering closed as he pushed my shirt off my shoulder, and kissed the skin beside my bra strap. “I really hope this,” he plucked at the strap, “comes off.” He stepped back, grinning boyishly. I swayed unsteadily and his large hand gripped my waist to keep me from falling. I expected some cocky remark about his effect on me, but instead, his lips crashed against mine. I leaned into the kiss, standing on my tiptoes to reach him better. His tongue flicked against my lips, seeking entrance, and I was happy to oblige. He growled low in his throat as one of my hands sought his hair and tugged lightly, while I fisted his shirt in the other. He wrenched his lips from mine, breathing raggedly, and panted, “That’s me not saying goodbye.” Before I could recover, he walked away from me, and out the door. Holy hell, I think liked not goodbyes.

My mom and dad were asleep when I arrived home. I half expected my dad to still be awake, pacing the halls, waiting for my arrival. I let myself in and went straight up to my room to go to bed, leaving my suitcase in the trunk of my car.

It was morning now, late morning. Dad never let me sleep in. I stepped out of my room and looked around, expecting him to come running at me, with a shaking fist, cursing me for sleeping in. But nothing happened. I quietly descended the steps, looking for him. I tiptoed into the family room and saw my mom sitting there, drinking a cup of coffee, and watching a news show. She never watched TV or drank coffee when he was around. “Dad’s gone,” I stated. “Some church thing,” she smiled pleasantly and patted the spot next to her on the striped couch. Whenever he was gone, she became a whole new person, more vibrant and alive. “He won’t be back until late tonight, we’ll probably be asleep. There’s some breakfast left over if you’d like some or we could go out and get lunch.” I smiled brightly. My dad would never let us eat out, so on the rare occasions that he was gone, my mom would treat me to lunch out. “Lunch would be great,” I beamed. “Good,” she patted my knee, “and I can’t wait to hear all about school without your dad around.” “I’ll go shower and get dressed,” I stood. “Where do you want to go for lunch?” We always had to drive out of town so that one of dad’s church members didn’t see us. “I’m not sure yet,” she sipped her coffee. “We’ll think of something while we drive.” Her eyes widened and zeroed in on my arm. “Is that a tattoo?” “Oh,” I looked down, “yeah.” “I like it,” she smiled. “But you better not let your father see it. You know how he is.” “Yeah, I know,” I grumbled with a dramatic sigh, rubbing my still sleepy eyes. I went outside, and carried my suitcase in, before getting ready. Since I was home, I dressed in a worn pair of jeans, and a sweatshirt. Avery would have a conniption if she knew, but I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. “Ready!” I called as I bound down the steps.

She grabbed her keys and I followed her out to the garage. I slid into the beige leather seat of her Lexus sedan. Even though it was a few years old, it was in pristine condition, and still smelled new. We were quiet during the ride, enjoying the peace. “How does that place look?” My mom pointed to a restaurant after driving for almost an hour. “Looks good to me. I’m not picky,” I shrugged. She glanced at me, a smile curving her lips. “I’m really happy you’re home, Olivia. I know you were just here,” she swallowed, “and you’d probably rather be at school, but I want you to know that I love when you’re home. I hate that we don’t get to spend much time together.” I took her hand in answer.

“This is so yummy,” I took a bite of a sweet potato fry before slurping on my second glass of sweat tea. I’d added a ton of sugar packets to it. No one up North knew how to make it sweet enough. “Mhmm,” my mom hummed in consent. A text message vibrated my pocket and I reached down to read it. It was a message from Trace. Miss u. I miss u 2. I quickly wrote back. Oh. I was supposed to send that to someone else. I hate you. I wrote. ;) U no I like 2 mess with u. I read his text and decided that I wasn’t going to write back. Two could play this game. It was time for Trace Wentworth to shake in his boots. Olivia? The text came a minute after the previous one. I was kidding. This one came a few seconds later. R u ignoring me? He asked. I guess I deserve it. This text came two minutes later. Sweating yet? I decided to let him off the hook. U suck. I thought you were really mad at me. I could picture Trace letting out a sigh of relief. Nah. I just wanted to get back at u 4 that comment. I have to go though. Having lunch w/my mom. I explained. Have fun. If I was there, I’d be…well I’ll let you imagine what I’d be doing to u right now. ;) I gulped as my mind went rampant, imagining Trace running his hand up and down my thigh, then higher. I put my phone back into my pocket and looked up at my mom. “So,” she eyed me, “who’s the guy?” Immediately, my cheeks reddened. “What makes you think there’s a guy?” I squeaked. She tilted her head, giving me a don’t-play-dumb look. “Girls don’t smile like that over nothing, Liv,” she pointed at my face with a fry. I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Tell me about him. I know he has to be special to have captured your attention,” she dipped her fry in ketchup. “You’re not going to tell dad, are you?” I asked shakily. She narrowed her eyes at me, those same eyes that I saw every day in the mirror. “There are a lot of things I don’t tell your father, Liv. Remember that.” “His name is Trace,” I supplied. She smiled, biting into her burger. “And how’d you meet?” “I—uh—got a flat tire,” I looked down at my plate, “and he stopped to help me.” “That’s nice. Is he in college?” She asked, playing with her straw as she waited for my reply. “He’s a mechanic,” I bit my lip. “Is he…older than you?” She questioned cautiously. I rolled my eyes. “He’s twenty-two.” “Oh,” she breathed a sigh of relief. “I can tell you really like him.” “I do,” I admitted. “He’s great.”

“I wish I could meet him,” she sighed. I swallowed. “Why don’t you leave dad?” The words tumbled from my mouth. I knew the real reason why she wouldn’t leave, but I wanted to hear what she had to say. She put her burger down and studied me. “How could I leave him, Liv? I have no money of my own. I have nowhere to go or stay. I have nothing and he made sure of that,” she whispered the last part under her breath. “And honestly, Liv,” tears shown in her eyes, “I’m afraid of him.” I was shocked that she admitted to me that she was afraid of him but I was careful not to let it show. I reached across the table and took her hand. “I don’t like that you have to live like this, mom.” “It is what it is,” she sighed. “He won’t change and I can’t leave. I’m stuck. It’s better if I pretend like I’m happy and everything is okay,” she rubbed her eyes. “I shouldn’t talk bad about him, he’s your father, but…” She paused. “Once, when you were about five, I had been putting money away. He’d give me money for groceries and I’d keep the change; hide it away, that sort of thing. One day, he found the box I was hiding it in. He got so angry. So angry,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “After that…” “You stopped trying to find a way out,” I supplied. She nodded. “It wasn’t worth it.” “How-how did you meet dad?” A wistful look stole across her face. “In high school. He was a senior and I was a sophomore. He was…so handsome and charismatic. I could talk to him for hours. He was nothing like he is now.” “What changed him?” I picked up a sweet potato fry. “He changed after we got married,” she sighed. “He turned into a completely different person. I felt like I was living with a stranger. He had fooled me and,” she shrugged, “I was stuck.” “Why didn’t you leave then? Why stay and get pregnant with me?” I wasn’t sure I wanted my questions answered but I had to know. Tears glassed her eyes. “It’s time you know the truth, Liv.” She bit her lip, crumpling the napkin between her fingers. Panic coursed through my body. “What? What truth? What are you talking about?” I stuttered. What was going on? She was looking at me seriously and the tears were starting to trickle down her cheeks. I began to sweat; feeling like a bomb was about to be dropped on me. I wanted to run but my feet wouldn’t move. I gripped the slick wood table in my hands. “Early in my marriage with Aaron, I volunteered at the local library. That’s when I met Derek,” she smiled longingly and I began to shake my head at her words. “He was even more handsome than your father. Dark wavy hair and his smile…it lit up the room, Liv.” Her eyes grew clouded with the distant memory. “All of the ladies that worked at the library were infatuated with him, even the older ladies. He was so charming that he was impossible not to fall for.” My need to run was steadily increasing but I still couldn’t move. “He was at the library almost every day to study. He wanted to be a doctor. I found myself making excuses to go by there, even when I wasn’t volunteering,” her smile waned. “One day, we got to talking and…” she looked down at the table, taking deep breaths. This was hard for her. “I was craving companionship but Aaron was too busy studying to be a preacher. It started out innocently. I just wanted someone to talk to, I needed someone to listen to me,” she reached across the table for my hand and I gave it to her. “I fell in love with him. I didn’t mean to, but I did,” her eyes pleaded with me to understand. “I was going to leave Aaron for him-” She shook her head back and forth, fighting for composure. A part of me wished I could go back in time and undo what she was saying. I didn’t want to hear this and I had a pretty good idea where this was headed. “Derek and I were going to move in together and after the divorce was final with Aaron, we’d get married. I saw a lawyer and had the papers ready to give Aaron. I was waiting for the right moment. That’s when…that’s when I found out I was pregnant, with you.” “Mom,” I croaked, “no. Don’t say it. Please, don’t say it.” “That was also the same day,” her voice cracked, “that Derek got into a car accident.” “No, no, stop,” I begged. I wanted to cover my ears but I couldn’t make my hands move. I was paralyzed. “He didn’t make it and I never got the chance to tell him about you,” she sobbed. “Please, stop,” I cried. I knew I should be happy, and a part of me was, that Aaron Owens wasn’t my biological father. But

everything I knew, was being shattered to pieces by a few words. “Derek is your dad, Liv, not Aaron,” she squeezed my hand. “Aaron knew. There was no way you could be his, and I’m so sorry, because he hated you for it. I tried to leave for you. I did, Livie. I tried so hard,” her sobs could be heard through the restaurant. They probably wanted to kick us out. “This is all my fault.” I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. I sat there and watched my world crumble around me.

I hadn’t said anything as we finished eating. Or attempted to finish eating, I should say. Neither of us really had much of an appetite after the shit-storm of lies, that’s my life, was revealed. We were almost home when I spoke up, “Is that why dad—er—Aaron, has treated you so badly? Is it because of me? Because I’m not his?” “No, sweetie,” she reached over and patted my cheek. “He was like that before…that’s why I-” “Cheated?” I supplied angrily. “Yes,” she sighed, gripping the steering wheel, bowing her head. “You have to understand, I didn’t do it maliciously. It just…happened. I love Derek. Or loved, rather,” her eyes pooled with tears as she gazed at the road. “I miss him every day of my life. I miss what we had and what we could’ve been. I miss him so much, Liv, but he gave me you,” her voice was fierce. “He gave me the greatest gift a man can ever give a woman. You’re so much like him and you don’t even know it. When you smile, it’s his smile. When you laugh, it’s his laugh,” she looked at me fiercely. “When I get sad, and miss him, I know it’s okay, because there’s still a part of him here on this Earth.” “Why did you decide to tell me? Why now?” I questioned. The air left her lungs in a gust. “When you were little, I thought I’d never tell you, and especially with the way Aaron treated you—us—I thought it was better to keep you in the dark. But a few years ago, I decided to tell you. I didn’t know when, I just knew I had to,” she swallowed thickly, gazing out at the road. “You deserved to know the truth and Derek isn’t some dirty secret I’m trying to hide from the world. He was the love of my life, Liv, and it wasn’t fair to spit on his memory by keeping the truth from you. He was a good man.” She quieted and then added, “The way you were smiling at your phone when you were talking to that boy, that’s how I smiled when I was with Derek.” “What was his last name?” I asked. I don’t know why I needed to know, but I did. “Wynn. Derek Wynn,” she answered immediately. “Olivia Wynn,” I whispered quietly. “Do his parents know about me?” “No,” she shook her head. “After he died…I didn’t believe there was any point in telling them. They knew about me and they didn’t approve. Not that I blame them. I was married.” “Are they still alive?” “They are,” she glanced over at me. I was still in a state of shock, but the questions kept pouring from me. “Do you have a picture of him? Of Derek?” “Yes,” she swallowed thickly. “Can I…” I paused, “see it?” I asked as she pulled into the garage. “Of course,” she looked at me like I was crazy for thinking she would say no. I unbuckled my seatbelt mechanically. “Liv,” my mom reached for my arm, grabbing it before I could get out. “Yes?” I looked over my shoulder at her. “Do you hate me for what I did?” I studied the broken woman before me and thought of all the years of torment she had endured from my father—Aaron. How could I hate her for trying to find happiness with someone else? “No, mom, I could never hate you. I…I feel very confused right now,” I answered honestly, shaking my head as I gazed at my lap. “That’s understandable,” she released my arm. I followed her inside and upstairs to the master bedroom. She opened the bottom drawer to her dresser and dumped out the contents. Once everything was cleared, she lifted out a false bottom. Beneath it was pictures, a whole stack of

them. She smiled sadly and began handing them to me. I stared at the stranger in the picture who really wasn’t a stranger. I clearly saw the resemblance. It was indisputable. I had his lips and just like my mom had said, I even had his smile. His hair was wavy, bordering on curly, and I assumed that was where I got my natural waves. She handed me more, and I flipped through them, finding more of myself in him. Finally, the last picture she handed me was one of her with Derek. It was a close-up and you could see Derek’s arm as he held out the camera to take the picture. My mom was curled against his side. Neither of them was looking at the camera though. They were looking at each other, and the love on both of their faces was unmistakable. I had never seen that look on my mom’s face in all my twentyyears of life. I think a part of her must have died that day with Derek. I flipped through the pictures, again and again, memorizing his features, and imagining how different my life could have been if Derek Wynn hadn’t died. But…if Derek hadn’t died, and I hadn’t grown up with Aaron as a father, I would’ve never been desperate to get away. I would’ve never met Trace. Like I had told Trace that night in my dorm room, we can’t undo the past, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. Those bad things, led me to Trace. Every decision, every moment, has the opportunity to change the course of our lives. One moment can change everything. For me, that moment was when I met Trace. For my mom, it was when she met Derek. We were similar in that regard. “Can I keep one?” I held up the pictures, surprised to find that I was crying. “They’re all for you,” she whispered, draping an arm over my shoulder. I hadn’t realized she had sat down on the floor beside me. I had been too taken with discovering a piece of me that now only existed in these photographs. “I can’t bear to look at them. It hurts too much. They’re for you, Liv. They’ve always been for you.” I bundled the photos into a neat stack, and cradled them close to my heart, crying for a man that I would never know.

I woke up, and the first thing I did, was look through the photos again. Unfortunately, the photos didn’t reveal much about Derek. After all, they were only photos. They couldn’t tell me what his voice sounded like, or his favorite color, or his hobbies. I did notice that a lot of them were taken outside and I wondered if Derek—my dad—enjoyed being outside like I did. I’d always rather be outside, soaking in the sun, than stuck indoors. A banging on my door startled me. I glanced at my bedroom clock. It was nine o’ clock in the morning; I should’ve been up two hours ago, to avoid this wrath. “Olivia Owens! Open this door right now! You know you’re not allowed to close your bedroom door!” My dad’s-er, Aaron’s-voice bellowed throughout the house. I hopped up from my bed like it was made of hot coals, and bound across the room in two large steps, swinging the door open. “You may sleep in late at that school of yours but that’s not allowed in my house!” He bellowed. “I’m sorry,” I reached up, pushing my ratty hair from eyes. “What’s this?” He hissed, his large meaty hand capturing my arm. He gripped it tightly and I cried out as he held it up for inspection. Cold eyes glared at me. “What is this on your arm?” Oh, no. I swallowed. When I didn’t answer right away, his grip tightened. “What is it Olivia?!” He shook me roughly, hard enough that my teeth clanked together. “It’s a tattoo,” I cried. His fingers dug painfully into my arm. His face reddened as his teeth clamped together. It felt as if he held me like that, for minutes, but the logical part of my mind knew that wasn’t true. My adrenaline had already clicked in. He released me roughly and I fell, sliding across the hardwood floor, where my head smacked into the wall. I reached up and fingered the tender part of my skull, half expecting there to be blood. He glared down at me, and I flinched, waiting for him to strike. My breath came out in ragged gasps, like I couldn’t get enough oxygen. “You’re nothing but trouble,” he glared at me with eyes that were anything but human. He was a monster. “Your mother should’ve had you taken care of.” Surprising words from a man who preached about the sins of abortion. He stood there, seething, his chest rising and falling as his hands flexed at his sides. For some reason, he looked around my room, and his eyes landed on the pictures on my bed. “No,” he growled softly. “No!” He screamed, storming over to my bed, reaching for the pictures.

I knew that he was going to ruin the pictures, the only thing I had tying me to a man I had only learned about yesterday, and that spurned me into action. Those pictures were the key to a life I knew nothing about and I wasn’t about to give it up. With energy I didn’t know I possessed, I stood. He picked one of the pictures up, and crumpled it into his hand, yelling unintelligibly. I jumped on his back, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, as he reached for another picture. “Those are mine!” I screamed. I wouldn’t let him ruin them. “She was never supposed to tell you!” He roared, rearing back in an effort to dislodge me. I may have been small but adrenaline was on my side. I wouldn’t be easily thwarted. My arms tightened around his neck, I wasn’t really trying to choke him, I only wanted him to stop destroying the photos. They were the only things I possessed that made Derek real. “Stop it!” I shrieked when he reached for another. “Those are mine!” “I raised you! You’re my daughter!” He yelled, his spit landing on my arm. “I was never your daughter!” I screamed shrilly. “Never!” He started to rip the photo and time slowed down further. I found myself letting go of his neck with one arm, and clinging tightly to his waist with my legs, as I reached for the heavy light on my bedside table. I yanked the cord from the outlet and hurled the lamp at his head. He grunted, and fell slack, falling to the side. I fell with him, my knee harshly colliding with the hardwood floor. He landed on my leg, passed out, and I pushed at him. Blood poured from the gash on his head. It wasn’t fatal, but he’d need stitches, and he’d definitely be out of it for a while. “Oh my God.” The words didn’t come from me. I turned to find my mom standing in the doorway of my bedroom. She clutched her chest as she looked from Aaron to me. “Oh my God,” she repeated, rushing to my side, and falling to her knees. “Liv, oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I heard the yelling and then the thump. Oh my God. Is he?” “No,” I shook my head. “He’s not.” I rose unsteadily to my feet. I had to leave before he woke up. If he woke up and I was still here…the consequences would be disastrous. I didn’t know where I’d go and that didn’t matter. I had to get away. “I need to leave,” I whispered, scurrying around my room, gathering up my things. I hadn’t removed much from my suitcase so it didn’t take long. “He was going to ruin the pictures, mom. I snapped. I’m sorry. I couldn’t let him destroy them,” I rambled. He had already destroyed a part of me, a long time ago, there was no way I was letting him destroy my only connection with my real father. “I have to go, mom. I can’t stay here,” I rambled, gathering the photos from my bed, and the ones that had fallen on the floor. I looked down at Aaron, the man whom I had believed was my father. I had never loved him, only feared him. But shouldn’t I have felt some kind of remorse for hurting him? Instead, I felt relieved. “I have to go, mom,” I repeated, because she kept standing there with shocked, wide eyes as she looked at Aaron passed out on the floor. Slowly, she looked up at me. “And you need to go too,” I pleaded. “He’s going to be livid when he wakes up.” “I can’t, I can’t,” she shook her head, “I can’t.” I grasped her hands in mine. “Please, mom. For me. You have to. He’ll kill you.” I looked down at the broken lamp and the gash on his head. “He’ll blame you for this,” my voice cracked. “You have to leave.” “There’s nowhere for me to go, Liv! Nowhere!” She was flustered, fanning her face, and fighting hysterics. “Find a place,” I begged, taking her hands in mine to soothe her. “I can’t lose you too. Come to Virginia. I’ll get a job and so will you. We can find a place and live together. If you stay here, you’ll die.” I knew in my heart, that if Aaron woke up, and she was still here, he’d kill her…just like I knew he’d

kill me. His anger had been growing progressively worse over the years. I had blocked a lot of what he had said and done, in order to cope, but if I really started digging through my memories, I knew I would find that Thanksgiving wasn’t the first time he’d grabbed me like that. Acting on instinct, I grabbed her long sleeve shirt, and yanked it up. “Look at this!” I pleaded, looking at the purple, yellow, and green bruises, on her arm in the shape on his fingers. “If you think this is bad, what happens when he wakes up will be worse! Don’t let him control you anymore!” I begged. “Where’s that woman I saw yesterday? Huh? The woman that was going to leave her husband for Derek? Where is she, mom? Find her! Find her, and hold onto her! If you were going to leave dad for Derek, you can leave him for me.” Her whole body shook from crying, and she kept looking from me to Aaron, and back again. “You can do it, mom. Find that woman Derek fell in love with. Please,” I sobbed. She nodded. “Okay, okay. I know where he keeps some money hidden. I-” “Just hurry, mom,” I begged. “Get rid of your cellphone and anything he can use to track you. Leave your car. I’ll drive. Grab necessities only. Got it?” She nodded mechanically and dashed down the hall to the master bedroom. I eyed the small pool of blood that had gathered on the floor from Aaron’s wound. It wasn’t a dangerous amount of blood, I knew that, but the sight of it still upset my stomach. While my mom was gathering her things, I changed from my pajamas into clothes, and brushed my hair, quickly braiding it. I stepped over Aaron’s slumped form and tore my dresser apart. I had hidden money in each drawer from all the summer’s I had worked at the local ice cream shop. I knew I would never be coming back to this house. This house wasn’t my home, it was a prison, and I wanted none of these things, because they would only keep a part of me chained here. I was glad that I had bought most of my things. I’d even saved and bought my car and I had managed to get into college with a full scholarship. Once I stepped out the front door of this house, nothing would tie me to this place. I would be free to float. Free to wander. Free to find myself.

My mom and I dashed out of the house, quickly loading my car with our meager possessions. I drove away as fast as I could, not even bothering to look back at the house. “What if he finds me?” She kept repeating over and over again. I took her hand in mine. “Then we’ll handle him together, mom. Okay?” She nodded. I knew she was scared, but I honestly didn’t think he had the guts to try and find her. If she stayed, he would hurt her…probably kill her, but he didn’t strike me as the type to hunt her down. Men like Aaron, didn’t have the guts to chase someone. They liked to control you behind closed doors and act like nothing was wrong when you were outside them. We had a long drive ahead of us, but I didn’t mind. I had my mom beside me and I would never let her go back to that man. It was time she found the freedom, that I had been searching for, and I was pretty sure I had found it in Trace.

It was late when we crossed the state line into Virginia. An hour ago, I had called Avery, and asked her if my mom and I could stay at her parent’s house. She was quick to agree and I was so incredibly thankful that I had a friend like her. I turned into Meadow Branch, Avery’s neighborhood, and started making the turns she had described. I found the house and pulled into the driveway beside her red Volkswagen Beetle. “Mom, we’re here,” I shook her shoulder. She startled awake. “Huh?” “We’re at Avery’s house,” I explained, “this is where we’ll stay.” “Oh,” she rubbed sleepily at her eyes. “She’s your roommate, right?” “Yeah.” “And she doesn’t mind?” She asked, surprised. “No, mom. I called and asked her,” I unbuckled my seatbelt. The garage door opened and Avery stepped outside. She was dressed in her pajamas and her hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. She waved her hand, for us to come inside. “Go on ahead mom, I’ll get our stuff,” I sighed. I watched as she made her way to Avery. She looked so small and broken. I felt responsible for her, even though it should be the other way around. I carried our suitcases inside and sat them down in the mudroom area that you walked into from the garage. “I already showed your mom her room,” Avery said from the shadows, startling me. “Your room’s

ready too. My parents will be back in time for Christmas, but once they get back, they won’t mind if y’all stay here.” “Thank you, Avery. I can’t begin to express to you how much this means to me,” I cried softly. “Hey,” she whispered, hugging me. “I’m happy to help…but what happened?” “I can’t talk about it right now. I’m sorry,” I sobbed, covering my face with my hands. “It’s okay,” she rubbed my back. “I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready. It was something with your dad, though, wasn’t it?” She questioned. I nodded; she didn’t need more of an answer than that. “He’s worse than what you told me, isn’t he? Did he hurt you, Livie?” She pulled away, looking me over. My whole body was sore and I knew my arm would be bruised come morning. “In more ways than what you’re thinking,” I whispered. “Oh, Olivia,” she hugged me again. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this.” I hugged her back, tightly, thankful again, and definitely not for the last time, that I had a friend like Avery. She could say crude things and get on my nerves sometimes, but at the end of the day, she had my back and I had hers. If that wasn’t friendship, I didn’t know what was. She released me, wiping at her tear-streaked face. “Let me show you your room.” I followed her through the massive house and up a sweeping staircase. “This is my room,” she pointed to an open door. “Don’t hesitate to wake me up if you need anything or just a shoulder to cry on,” she smiled lightly. Opening a closed door at the end of the hall, she announced, “This is your room.” It was a large, nicely decorated, guestroom. The walls were painted a light brown color with carpeted floors in a similar shade. The bed coverings were all white and the furniture was black. “You’re probably going to want to sleep in, so I should warn you, my brother Nick will be here tomorrow. Don’t be surprised if you see a guy walking around in his boxers, scratching his balls, it’s normal.” I laughed. I could always count on Avery to make a serious situation not so dark. “Thank you again,” I told her. “Not a problem. I’m going back to bed,” she padded down the hall and into her room. “See you in morning,” she chimed and closed the door. I knew I should grab my suitcase, and try to go to sleep, but I didn’t want to. I wanted Trace. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted him to make me forget.

I found myself running up the steps, leading to Trace’s loft apartment, and banging on his door. I kept knocking and knocking. I started to question whether he was even there and then I began to worry, what if he was here but otherwise occupied? Trace would never do that to you. The door opened underneath my banging fist, and I tumbled inside, captured by warm strong arms. “Whoa,” he steadied me. “Olivia, what are you doing here? I thought you were in New Hampshire.” He gazed down at me and the intensity in his eyes caused me to shiver. I saw worry there too, swirling in the green depths. He knew something bad had to have happened to send me running here. “I just…I needed you,” I whispered. “I have to tell someone. I have to.” “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he crooned, wrapping me into his arms when I began to cry. He swept my legs out from under me and we settled on the couch. “What happened?” He wiped away my tears with his large thumbs. “So much,” I croaked. For the first time, I noticed that he was practically naked, wearing only a pair of plaid boxers. At any other time, I would have snorted. Of course he wears plaid boxers. “Tell me what happened,” he pleaded, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” The whole thing, everything that happened in the past forty-eight hours, and what had happened years ago, spilled from my mouth. I didn’t hold anything back. Memories I had long ago suppressed

bubbled to the surface, and I told those too, like the time we were in the park and my dad—er—Aaron, pushed me off the swing, claiming I fell on my own and I ended up with cuts on my hands and knees. There was another time, when he was teaching me to ride a bike, where he purposely let go of me so that I fell into a ditch full of large rocks. As I grew older, he switched to solely using the verbal abuse on me, but in the back of my mind, I remembered walking in on him beating my mother. So many years and so much abuse. I had been able to block a lot of it, but I was sure my mother hadn’t been able to do the same. She had to remember everything, and I wondered how she made it through each day, without crumbling to pieces. I guess she was stronger than I thought. Trace didn’t say he was sorry, he simply held me, and that’s all I wanted. To feel safe.

Sometime later, I pulled away from his embrace. He looked me over carefully with those inquisitive green eyes. “Thank you, for telling me,” he murmured, “and for trusting me. I know it was hard for you to tell me.” He played with my braid and his tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. “I’m so lucky I met you,” I whispered, resting my head on his shoulder. “Flat tires come in handy sometimes,” he chuckled as his lips brushed against the top of my head. “Mhmm,” I murmured and kissed his bare chest. “Olivia,” he warned. “Trace,” I smiled at his tone and kissed a spot on his collarbone. “What are you doing?” He asked as one of my hands roamed over his chest. “I think…” I leaned up and kissed his neck, “…it’s called seducing.” I draped one of my legs across his and sat on his lap so I faced him. I placed my hands on his stomach, just above his boxers, and then moved them up slowly. They lingered on his chest, then wound around the back of his neck, and settled on his ears. He squished his eyes closed. “It’s working. Then again, you don’t have to seduce me.” I rubbed my fingers down the back of his ears. “Don’t make me beg,” I whispered. His hands came up to grip my waist. “Olivia,” he said as if pained, “don’t do this to me.” “I want you,” I sat back on his lap, staring into his eyes; trying to get him to see that I needed him. His hands tightened on my waist. “I want this to be perfect with you,” he murmured fiercely. “I don’t want this…sadness, clinging to you. I want it to be only about you and me. No one else. I don’t want you to use me to erase your pain.” “I’m not,” I kissed his chin. “This is about no one else, but you and me, and the fact that I want you in every way.” “Olivia, I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you,” he pulled me against his hard length, “don’t make this any harder on me.” I grinned. “I don’t think you can get any harder.” He groaned. “You’re really trying to kill me.” “Ah, but what a pleasant death it would be,” I ran a finger from the indent of his collarbone, straight down, hooking it into the edge of his boxers. His hand closed around mine. He swallowed thickly. “It’s too soon, Olivia. But I want to, so bad.” “Then don’t hold back,” I coaxed. “I’m ready.” His hands flexed against my waist as I watched an internal battle rage across his face. I was about to resort to begging, but before I could open my mouth, his lips were on mine as he resigned to the inevitable. I wrapped my arms around his neck, as I pressed against him, closer, closer, closer. I knew I wouldn’t be close enough until our bodies had melded together, and even that, I was sure, wouldn’t be close enough. He pulled back and lifted my sweatshirt off of my head, throwing it to a far corner of the room. My long sleeved t-shirt quickly followed and I was left in only my bra and jeans. He kneaded my breasts through the thin cups of my bra before undoing the clasps and tossing it as well.

He pulled me against him so that we were chest to chest. I felt his heart racing as quickly as mine and I was pleased to know I wasn’t the only one affected by this. I wasn’t naïve; I knew Trace had loads of experience in this department. “You can still tell me to stop,” he panted breathlessly. “I’m not asking you to,” I ran a finger along the curve of his jawline, “and I won’t ask you to.” “Okay,” he whispered, standing. My legs wrapped around his waist and he held me tightly against him, his hands clasped below my butt. “I’ve got you,” he assured, nudging his bedroom door open further, and laying me down on the mattress. The covers were pushed down to the bottom of his bed from his haste to answer the door when I arrived. He stood, gazing down at me, and I blushed shyly as he scrutinized my body. I was still wearing my jeans, but the way he looked at me, made me feel as if I was bare everywhere else. “You’re beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” he crooned. He leaned down and I closed my eyes, expecting to feel the light pressure of his lips meeting mine. Instead, I felt a slight tug, and the ponytail holder holding my braid in place, came undone. He fanned my hair around my head and appraised his work. “You’re absolutely breathtaking, Olivia,” he whispered. I reached for his arm and felt the muscle flex at my touch. “I’m getting lonely down here,” I pulled him slightly closer and he moved the rest of the way. “I can’t have you getting lonely, can I?” He grinned. He scooted me up the bed until I lay in the center and covered my body with his. His fingers rubbed against my jean-clad center and I arched against his touch. He popped the button with deft fingers and eased the zipper down. My breathing accelerated. My only experience with sex had been nothing like this. That time had been clumsy and fast while this was slow and intimate. Trace’s eyes met mine when the zipper could go no further. He scooted down in the bed, placing tender kisses along my breasts, and stomach as he went. He spread my thighs apart, and not taking his eyes from mine, he blew a gust of hot air against where I needed him the most. This was torture. The sweetest, most delicious, kind of torture, but torture nonetheless. He hooked his fingers through the belt loops of my jeans, tugging them down slowly. Trace kissed each piece of skin my jeans uncovered. Not a centimeter was left untouched by his lips. I heard my jeans fall to the floor and then we were both left in only our underwear. He moved back up my body, kissing his way there. When he reached my face, he clasped both of our hands together, and stared into my eyes. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I’m not.” He released one of my hands and smoothed his large thumb over the skin between my brows. “This wrinkle here suggests otherwise.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I didn’t know how to express to Trace exactly what I was feeling. I wasn’t scared about the actual sex…I was scared that sex with Trace would only make me fall harder for him. “I am a little nervous,” I admitted reluctantly. “Don’t be nervous with me, ever, Olivia,” he whispered, staring intently into my eyes. “Okay,” I replied but his words had done nothing to ease my racing heart. I feared that it might gallop right out of my chest. He kissed the dip between my breasts, before releasing my hands, and palming them. “You have the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen,” he gazed down at them. I squirmed under his scrutiny. He pressed one hand against my stomach, stilling me. “Don’t do that,” he scolded. “There’s no need to be embarrassed I’m just…enjoying the view.” I nodded. His hands skimmed lower and then came back to my breasts. Goosebumps broke out across my skin from pleasure and my head rolled to the side. He gripped my chin and forced my head back. “Don’t look away from me and keep your eyes open. I want to see you,” he rasped.

I nodded, my voice leaving me, and he placed a tender kiss on the end of my nose. “Look at me,” he warned again when my eyes threatened to flutter closed. I opened them wide and he smiled. His head dipped down and he began to kiss my neck. Then moved down to my breasts, where he spent an exceptionally long time, and over my stomach. His tongue flicked out, playing with my belly button ring. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispered so low that I couldn’t be sure I heard him correctly. His fingers hooked into the edge of my panties but he didn’t pull them down. One hand ventured inside the elastic and he hissed through his teeth when he found how wet I was. One finger slipped inside, pumping in and out. “Trace,” I gasped. Just as I was getting accustomed to the feeling, he removed his finger, and pulled my panties down, kissing my thighs and calves as he went. His eyes flicked up to meet mine before his tongue delved into me. “Trace, don’t,” I cried, but it was too late. His tongue swirled over my sensitive nub and I bucked against him. His chuckle vibrated against me, and if I had half a brain left, I’d be blushing. He lapped at my aching core and I was a willing prisoner to the feel of it. His tongue swirled inside my entrance, and my hips lifted up off the mattress, desperate for more. I mewled in protest as he rose up. “Enjoying yourself, baby?” I nodded woodenly, but what I wanted to say was, Oh, yeah. He grinned and dipped his head back down. His mouth closed around my clit and tingles zinged through my body. I knew I was close to reaching that peak everyone talked about. He sucked harder and I came apart. I’m pretty sure I saw stars at that moment, or maybe it was heaven, because I could have died and never known. My fingers tangled into the soft strands of his hair. He lifted up and smiled at me. His lips were slick, and instead of being disgusted, it only made me want him more. “That’s just orgasm number one,” he murmured promisingly. My body hummed at his words. More? Was that possible? He moved back up my body, kissing me deeply, as his erection pressed against me. I gripped his boxers and pulled them down. He removed them the rest of the way, and rested between my thighs, his hot length pulsing against me. My heart stuttered, knowing what was about to happen. I hadn’t known Trace very long but this felt right with him. He twisted his fingers in my hair, gazing down at me. He looked like he wanted to say something, but kissed me instead, our tongues tangling together. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him against my core. “Not yet,” he rasped. He flipped to his back, taking me with him, so that I straddled his hips and gazed down at him. He may have called me beautiful, but he was wrong. Trace was the beautiful one, inside and out, not me. His fingers trailed gently up my back, causing me to shiver. He sat up and took one on my breasts in his mouth. I cried out, gripping the short dark hairs at the base of his neck to steady myself. All of the nerve-endings in my body seemed to react to his touch. His body was warm against mine and slightly damp with sweat. His arms wrapped around me, hands clasping around my back, bringing our chests flush against each other. I bent my head, kissing his lips, chin, and neck. He felt perfect against me. I knew, then, that Trace was it for me. There would never be anyone else that made me feel this way. It wasn’t possible for more than one person to make you feel this… complete. This was once in a lifetime, and once you found it, you held onto it with everything you had.

He flipped me over so my back rested against the mattress and my head was cradled on his pillow. He reached for his night table and opened the drawer. Pulling out a foil packet, he laid it beside my head. He held himself above me, his eyes roaming over my body, and I did the same to him. His body was muscular and masculine, the hard length of him jutting proudly out of his body. I reached down, and gripped him in my hand, feeling him twitch. He swallowed thickly as I smoothed my hand up and down, rubbing my thumb over the sensitive pink head. A small drop of liquid coated my thumb and I swirled it around. He gazed down at me and a small smile graced his lips. “So beautiful,” he murmured, reaching for the condom packet. He ripped it open and together we fixed it onto his length. “Ready?” He asked. “I’ve been ready,” I panted, “you’re the one that insists on dragging this out.” He chuckled huskily. “Perfection takes time, baby, and you deserve nothing less.” “I thought you said perfection doesn’t exist?” “It doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth searching for,” he reached between us and guided his thick length to my entrance. He squeezed inside, just an inch and stopped. “Oh, God,” he moaned. My heart beat faster at the intrusion. Trace was large, and I had only had sex once before, my body still unaccustomed to the foreign feeling. He slid inside slowly, the rest of the way, and stopped there. He looked down at me and panted, “I was wrong. Perfection does exist and it’s right here. With me inside you.” I gasped as he pulled out, and then rolled his hips forward, slamming firmly back into me. I clawed at his back, desperately seeking something to hold onto, and anchor myself. He reached around, and undid my hands from his neck, then entwined our fingers together once more as he slowly rocked in and out of me. This was making love. “You’re so tight, Olivia,” he panted before frantically seeking my lips and sealing them with his own. The temperature in the room rose and I wondered if we were close to lighting the small apartment on fire with the friction we were creating. Sweat dotted his skin and dampened his hair. He released my hands and gripped the wooden headboard in his hands. The change in position left me gasping in pleasure. “Right there,” I encouraged, raking my fingernails up and down his back. His jaw tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Look at me, Trace,” I pleaded like he had with me earlier. I needed to see him. I needed to know that he was feeling all the same things that I was. He complied, bright green eyes connecting with my own. “It’s never felt this good before,” he confessed and peppered my face with kisses. A low moan built in his throat and he reached between us, rubbing his thumb over my clit. My body arched as my hips lifted to meet his. He rocked in and out, still rubbing that spot, and I felt my body tighten. He let go of the headboard and raised my hips, adjusting the position again, and it felt like he was filling every part of me. With a scream, my orgasm tore through my body, and I cried his name. He silenced me with his mouth, sucking on my lower lip. “I love the way you scream my name,” he growled. He pumped in and out a few more times, and then I felt him twitch inside me, growling as he came. “Oh, holy fuck, Olivia,” he roared, the veins in his neck popping out. He slumped forward, careful to hold his weight above me, and pressed his face into the crook of my neck. Tender kisses were exchanged, both of us shaking slightly, until we finally passed out from exhaustion.

Light spilled into the bedroom, and across my bare chest, warming me. I glanced to my left at Trace. He was sound asleep, on his stomach, the sheet barely covering his bottom. His heavy arm was draped over my stomach as if he had tried to pull me closer during the night. I studied the way his long dark lashes fanned across his angular cheekbones. His lips were slightly parted as he breathed deeply in and out. His cheeks were dotted with stubble and my thighs were chafed from where his cheeks rubbed against them. My body was sore, but not overly so. Despite the tenderness from over-worked muscles, I had never felt better. Last night had been…perfect. I didn’t regret a moment. I knew, now, what Avery was talking about. Sex was wonderful, when it’s with the right person. Not to mention, Trace knew exactly what he was doing. Maybe that should have bothered me, but for some reason, it didn’t. I sat up, gently placing Trace’s arm on the bed, as I slid out. I sat on the edge of the mattress, trying to run my fingers through my knotted hair, but it was futile. Only conditioner and patience with a comb would remove the knots. I peeked over my shoulder at his sleeping form, before standing, and gathering my panties, then the rest of my clothes from the living room. I couldn’t contain my laughter when I picked up my sweatshirt. So much for Avery’s theory of a sweatshirt being a chastity belt. I rolled my clothes into a ball and opened the door to the only bathroom. It was surprisingly clean, like the rest of his apartment. There was a razor sitting on the sink, and an open tube of toothpaste, but that was as messy as it got. I dropped my clothes on the floor and started the shower. I searched through the small cabinet underneath the sink for a towel. I almost expected him to have plaid towels, but they were a light solid gray, and super soft. The bathroom quickly filled with steam, and I pushed the shower curtain back, stepping inside. The hot water felt like heaven on my sore muscles. I closed my eyes and let the hot water work out the kinks in my muscles. I yelped in surprise when the shower curtain slid open. Trace grinned, eyes raking over my body. “How are you feeling?” Deliciously sore. “Fine,” I replied with a smile. He wrapped a hand around my waist, pulling me away from the spray. He pecked me on the lips, and my fingers tangled in his sex-rumpled hair. “Let me wash you,” he murmured huskily, reaching for his soap. I swallowed as my heart rate quickened.

He opened the shower curtain and reached out for a cloth. He slid the curtain back into place and the hooks rattled against the metal rod. The cloth was the same light gray color as the towel and he reached behind me to lightly wet it. He squirted a dollop of soap onto the cloth and rubbed the ends together until it foamed. “Come here,” he took my hand and switched places with me, so that the spray of water was beating on his back, and not mine. He gently rubbed the cloth over my shoulders, up my neck, and down my chest. He paid special attention to my breasts and when he reached my stomach he dropped to his knees. He kissed the apex of my thighs before soaping that area as well. Trace scrubbed both of my legs thoroughly, and then warned, “Hold on.” I grabbed ahold of the metal shower curtain bar as one of my legs was yanked out from under me. He placed light kisses on each of my toes and then carefully rubbed each one with the soapy cloth. He lifted my foot and steadied me with a hand on my opposite leg when I swayed. “You okay?” He asked. “I’m good,” I squeaked. When he was sure I had my balance again, he massaged the bottom of my foot, and cleaned it as well. He did the same thing with my other leg. When he was finished, he swirled his finger in the air, motioning me to turn around. He cleaned the back of me and stood again, lifting my hair off my neck, and tenderly kissing the exposed area. I fell back against his chest and his hands rested on my thighs. We stood like that for a few seconds, and then he turned me around, so we were facing one another. He stepped back, forcing both of us under the spray of water. “Trace!” I squealed. “A little warning would have been nice!” He chuckled and the sound vibrated through my body. “It’s just a little water, baby,” he grinned, rubbing me to make sure all the soap was gone. “Let me wash your hair,” he coaxed my head under the water. Once every strand was wet, he rubbed his woodsy scented soap into my hair. He massaged my scalp and I found myself moaning in pleasure, which only served to make him laugh. “Don’t laugh at me,” I scolded. “I’m not. I’m laughing at myself,” he muttered. “Why?” My eyes popped open as he guided me under the water once more and began to work the soap out of my hair. “Because, this was about you. I wanted to please you in a completely non-sexual way and—” he looked down significantly, “—you had to go and make those sexy noises.” I looked down at the thick length arching beautifully out of his body. “Hmm,” I murmured, “I think we’re going to have to do something to fix that.”

I quietly opened the door from the garage that led into Avery’s house. I had text Avery before I arrived and she gave me the code so I could get inside the house. I turned around, easing it closed, and locking it with a soft click. “Well, well, well, look who’s doing the walk of shame and it’s not my little sister,” a guy chortled behind me. I turned around, biting nervously on my bottom lip. Even though it was almost noon, he was only wearing a pair of black boxer briefs. He was drinking straight out of the bottle of orange juice and scratching his crotch. I snorted. This had to be Nick. He had shaggy strawberry blonde hair that hung just past his ears and he was huge. His height dwarfed my small size and he was built like a stocky football player. He had to be at least six-foot four. “You must be Nick,” I responded, a slight squeak to my voice. “And you must be…actually, I don’t know,” he chuckled. “Olivia,” I answered. “My sister’s roommate?” He raised a brow. “What are you doing here?”

“Family troubles,” I replied. No way was I telling him all about the soap opera my life had become. “Gotcha,” he scratched his chiseled chest. “Avery wouldn’t tell me,” he winked. “I thought if I played dumb you might give me more information. So,” he looked between the door and me, “if you’re having family troubles, and staying here, where have you been?” I pressed myself flat against the door, wishing I could slip right through it. “Leave the girl alone, she was getting her brains banged out by a sex-god,” Avery smirked at her brother as she stood in the hallway outside of the mudroom. “And she better tell me all about it.” “Avery!” “Don’t deny that you went to him last night. I have radar for these things,” she eyed me, disappearing into the kitchen. I scurried after her so that I wasn’t left alone with Nick again. I sat down at one of the barstools while Avery made a bowl of cereal. Nick pulled out the barstool beside me and I bristled. “Hungry?” Avery asked, holding the gallon jug of milk in her hand. “I already ate,” I told her. She grinned. “I bet you did.” “Avery!” I exclaimed again. She chuckled, grabbing a spoon from one of the many drawers. It would take me years to explore every nook and cranny of this large house. “After your all night sexathon you should probably eat something with some protein. Build up your endurance,” she winked and sat down on the other free stool beside me. She leaned around me and leveled her older brother with a glare. “Nickolas, leave,” she warned. “No,” he smirked, “I want to know what girls talk about when guys aren’t listening.” “I guess you better spontaneously grow a vagina because we won’t be talking about anything in front of you,” she snapped. “Come on. I’ll eat in my room,” she grabbed my arm, dragging me behind her, and upstairs. She opened the door to her room and I found that it was pretty similar to her side of our dorm room, in the fact that it was a mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere and junk was stacked on her tables, dresser, and bookcases. I wondered how she ever found anything. The walls were painted in a bright Kelly green and her comforter was the same color. All the furniture was white. Avery swiped her hand across two chairs, that I hadn’t seen in all the mess, dislodging the clutter that had been sitting on them. I took a seat on one of the chairs and she took the other. “Tell me,” she munched on her Frosted Flakes cereal, “did you have sex with him?” I blushed and looked away. “You did!” She shrieked and I heard the sound of her cereal and milk sloshing over the lip of the bowl. “Shit,” she muttered, looking at the mess she had made. “Oh well,” she shrugged. “So,” she grinned, “how was it? Did he have big dick? I bet he did.” I did not want to share this kind of information with Avery, best friend or not, it was personal. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered. “And I am definitely not telling you that.” “Give me a range here, please?” She begged. “Good? Bad? Off the charts? This big or this big,” she held up her fingers in different lengths. “Shut up, Avery! I’m not talking about that with you!” I waved my hands back and forth. “As far as how the sex was, I don’t think I’m the right person to judge it,” I mumbled. “I don’t have a lot of experience.” “That doesn’t matter, trust me,” she finished what was left of her cereal since most of it had ended up on the floor. “Off the charts,” I reluctantly answered since I knew she wouldn’t drop it until she got some sort of answer out of me. She squealed shrilly. I was surprised the windows in her bedroom didn’t shatter. “My little Livie is all grown up,” she pretended to wipe away a tear. “Oh please,” I rolled my eyes. “I really am happy for you though,” she smiled. “Now,” she eyed me seriously, “I think you owe me an explanation as to why you’re here.”

“You’re right,” I sighed and began to divulge everything about Derek being my real dad and what had happened with Aaron. It was wrong of me to keep Avery in the dark, even if I wanted to. She was a good friend, and she deserved to know the truth of why I had called her in the middle of the night, desperate for a place to stay. “Holy fucking shit,” she whispered when I had finished. “That makes no sense,” I mumbled. “I couldn’t think of any other words to express what I’m feeling right now,” she shook her head back and forth, still trying to absorb the information. “This is…” she pulled at her hair, “…shocking.” “I’ll be right back,” I stood. “You better,” she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t worry. I only want to grab the pictures,” I smiled. Once in the guestroom, I flipped through the photos again. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the fact that the man in the pictures was my real dad. I made my way back to Avery’s bedroom before she hunted me down. I handed her the stack of pictures and her jaw dropped open. She looked from the pictures and back to me. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “He’s definitely your dad. You look just like him, Livie. I can’t believe this.” She flipped to the picture of Derek and my mom. “She looks so happy and young,” Avery smiled. “They really loved each other.” I looked at the pictures in Avery’s hand and finally managed to say the words that had been stuck in my head since my mom told me. “This changes everything.”

I walked out of Avery’s room and nearly collided with my mom. “Sorry,” I apologized, holding a hand out to steady her. I looked over her disheveled appearance. “Are you just now waking up?” By now, it had to be close to one in the afternoon. “Yeah,” she shrugged, “I can’t tell you the last time I’ve slept this late. I guess I really needed it.” “Whoa,” Nick muttered from somewhere behind me as a door clicked closed. “Too much estrogen in here.” “Shut up,” Avery sneered, coming out of her bedroom, dressed for the day. Nick stepped forward, looking my mom up and down, grinning appreciatively. Um…ew. “It’s nice to meet you,” he held out a hand to my mom. “I’m Nick.” “Nora,” she squeaked, her eyes connecting with his bare chest. I gagged, glancing at Avery. She looked as shocked as I did. “Well, Nora,” he grinned and a dimple popped out in his right cheek, “if you need help with anything don’t hesitate to ask me. My room’s right there,” he pointed, “and you can come get me anytime.” I think I just threw up in my mouth. “Oh, well,” she blushed. I wanted to slap my hands over my eyes but I didn’t want to call attention to myself. After everything that had happened, the last thing I wanted to see was Avery’s twenty-two year old brother, trying to finagle his way into my mom’s pants. “Mom,” I spoke up, finding my voice, “why don’t you shower and get ready. I’ll take you to lunch,” I suggested. “Okay,” she smiled gratefully, making her way back to the guest bedroom. Nick’s eyes never left her. When the bedroom door closed behind her, he turned to me. “Your mom’s fucking hot,” he shook his head back and forth like he was in a daze. “Can I come with you to lunch?” “Absolutely not!” Avery and I exclaimed simultaneously. “Honestly Nickolas,” Avery reached up to slap the back of his head, “what is it with you and older women?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. She bounced down the stairs and I was left alone with Nick. I crept around him and ran for the stairs. I heard him mumbling under his breath as he went back into his room. “I am so sorry about that,” Avery began when I set foot in the kitchen. “That was weird,” I admitted.

“Nick’s always had a thing for—uh—older ladies,” she mumbled. “It’s gotten him into a lot of trouble over the years.” “It’s gross,” I grumbled. “Keep him away from my mom.” She laughed. “I’ll try, but once Nick sets his mind to something, he doesn’t give up easily…at all, actually.” “This is too much,” I collapsed onto one of the stools as Avery washed her bowl and wiped down the counters. “My brain’s already on overload with the whole Derek and Aaron thing, plus what happened with Trace last night, and now this? I don’t have time to worry about your brother seducing my mom.” I crossed my arms on the countertop and dejectedly laid my head on top. Avery began laughing and I couldn’t help but join in. Wiping tears away, she giggled, “This is nuts!” “You’re telling me! It’s my life!” I laughed hysterically. “Am I interrupting something?” My mom asked, stepping into the kitchen. “No,” I wiped my face dry with the backs of my hands. “You ready?” She nodded in reply. I pulled my car keys out of my pocket and left through the garage. “Oh! Wait!” Avery called over the roaring of the garage door. She scurried down the garage steps and opened one of drawers in the built in cabinets along the wall. “Here,” she tossed a black rectangular device my way. “What’s this?” I looked down at it stupidly. I quickly realized what it was but Avery was already answering. “It’s a garage opener,” she replied. “This way, you don’t have to worry about me or Nick being home, and you don’t have to get out and enter the code like you did this morning. We have a security system but it’s turned off right now.” “Okay,” I flipped the device over in my hands, “thanks.” “Not a problem. I’ll see you guys later. And Mrs. Owens,” she called out to my mom. “Watch out for my brother.” A bunch of gibberish came out of her mouth, which made Avery and me laugh.

“I’m not mad at you,” I stated, drenching my waffle in syrup. “I want you to know that.” My mom looked up from her plate of food, studying my face. When she found that I was telling the truth, she let out a sigh of relief. “I know I should have told you the truth a long time ago…it never seemed like the right time though,” she shrugged and took a bite of her egg sandwich. After a lengthy discussion about where to eat for lunch, we ended up deciding on Waffle House. “I’m glad you waited to tell me. I don’t think I would’ve handled it well if you told me sooner. It’s been hard to process now, it would’ve been even worse if I was younger.” My eyes strayed to my purse where I had placed the pictures of Derek. I wanted to keep them with me at all times. I think I was afraid that if they were separated from me for too long, they’d disappear. “Can you tell me more about him?” I hadn’t wanted to listen when she first told me, but now, I was ready to know more about my real dad. “I don’t know where to start,” she took a sip of water. “Start wherever you want,” I told her. She grew quiet as she thought. “He loved to be outside,” she smiled, her eyes far away. “I can’t begin to tell you how many times I found him outside the library, stretched out on one of those small benches, with a book in his hand. He was a serious student, but he was funny, the kind of guy that was always cracking a joke. He loved his family and friends, to the point that he was almost loyal to a fault. But I loved that about him. He would have been the greatest father to you, Liv, and I’m so sorry,” her eyes watered and she reached for my hand, “that you missed out on that, sweetie.” I swallowed thickly, wondering if I would have made Derek Wynn proud. Would I have been enough for him? “Do you think Aaron will try to find you?” I whispered. She released my hand and sat back, staring out the window at the traffic going by. “I honestly don’t

know. He’s…unpredictable.” I really didn’t think Aaron would try to find her, but I still worried. “Please, if he finds you, don’t let him take you from me, again,” I begged. “Never,” she answered fiercely. “I’ll never go back to that, Liv. I would rather have nothing than live with that man. I wish I would’ve left sooner, but I didn’t think I could. I was scared. But now that I’m gone, nothing will ever send me back. I can promise you that.” I breathed out a sigh of relief. She continued, “As soon as I get a job, and find a place of my own, I’ve decided to file for divorce.” My eyes widened. “I don’t want anything tying me to him. Especially, a marriage,” she removed her wedding band to drive home her point. “It’s time for me to move on and live my life.” “I’ll be here every step of the way,” I assured her. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” She smiled, tears glassing over her eyes once more. “I know I haven’t been the best mom and that I should have stopped Aaron. I shouldn’t have let…I shouldn’t,” she grabbed a napkin and wiped her tears away. “I shouldn’t have let him hurt you like he did. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough for you. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.” “Mom,” I said fiercely, “there’s nothing to make up for. I understand. I was scared of him too. I know he treated you worse than he did me. This isn’t your fault. I’m happy you’re out of that house now. I promise you, there’s nothing you need to make up for. You’re my mom, you always have been, and you always will be.” We stared at each other for a moment, and I expected her to say something serious, but instead, she cracked a smile and asked, “So, when do I get to meet this guy of yours?”

“You want me to meet your mom?” Trace asked incredulously over the phone. I coughed into the phone trying to hide my discomfort. “She wants to meet you.” He sighed. “It’s been a long time since I did the whole, meet the parents thing, but for you, I will.” I bristled, knowing he was referring to his ex, Aubrey. “I’m sorry, I hate asking you, but she keeps bugging me about it,” I grumbled, tugging on the strands of my hair. For the past two days, she had asked me incessantly about Trace. I knew I couldn’t put off this meet and greet forever, and preferred to get it over and done with. “Don’t apologize,” he replied. “It’s not that I don’t want to meet your mom, I’m just not very good at this. I know what kind of house you grew up in…is she going to think I’m some tattooed criminal or something?” He sounded insecure. I snickered. “That was my dad—er Aaron—that’s like that. Not my mom. She’ll like you, I promise.” “Alright,” he mumbled and I heard the sounds of him pacing as his shoes shuffled along the carpet of his bedroom. “When am I supposed to meet her?” I coughed again. “Tonight,” I squeaked. “Olivia,” he groaned and I was sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t a lot of notice.” “I know and I’m sorry,” I bit my thumbnail. “What time do you need me to be there?” He asked, sounding resigned. “Is five o’ clock okay?” I suggested. That gave him three hours to get ready and pep talk himself. “Yeah,” he huffed. “Where do I need to meet you guys?” “Avery’s house,” I answered, rattling off directions. “She’ll be gone tonight and so will her brother. My mom wants to cook.” “Sounds good,” he sighed. “I know I don’t sound happy, but I’m really nervous.” “It’s fine. I totally understand. I wouldn’t be too happy if you sprung something like this on me,” I told him. “I’ll see you tonight. And Olivia?” “Yeah,” I replied reluctantly. “You owe me big time.”

The doorbell rang and I ran out of the kitchen like my butt was on fire. I had been pacing the length of the kitchen for a solid twenty minutes as I waited for Trace to arrive. My mom continued to cook, pretending she didn’t notice me nervously walking back and forth. I swung the door open and forced a smile. Trace was freshly shaved with his dark hair brushed back and a beanie on top of his head. He wore a dark pair of jeans and a tight white V-neck shirt, with a long sleeve button down yellow and black plaid shirt on top. His leather jacket and boots completed the look. “Hey,” he grinned. “I’m sorry about the way I acted earlier on the phone,” he pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to me. “Forgive me?” I narrowed my eyes, making him sweat it a bit longer. “Are flowers supposed to make me feel better?” “Well, no,” he squirmed. “I’m kidding,” I smiled genuinely this time. “They’re beautiful,” I inhaled the fresh scent. “Get inside, it’s starting to snow,” I opened the door wider. He stepped inside and I saw that he had a similar bouquet clasped in his other hand. “For your mom,” he explained at my staring. “Oh,” I nodded, “that was nice of you.” He chuckled. “I am a nice guy.” I rolled my eyes, closing and locking the door. He took a deep breath and removed his beanie. I could tell he was nervous and trying to lighten the mood. “It’ll be fine,” I stood on my tiptoes to place a light kiss on his lips. He kissed me back and grinned fully when I pulled away. I took his hand and led him into the kitchen. My mom’s back was to us. She hummed as she stirred a pot on the stove and then wiped her hands on her apron. I cleared my throat and she turned around. “Mom, this is Trace. Trace, this is my mom.” “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Owens,” Trace let go of my hand and reached out to shake my mom’s. She surprised him by reaching up and giving him a hug. “Please, call me Nora.” “Nora,” he smiled, “these are for you.” She smiled as she gazed at the flowers in his hand. She took them from him. “These are lovely. Thank you. Olivia, why don’t you look around and see if you can find two vases,” she eyed the bouquet in my hand. I looked around at all the cabinets and grumbled, “Where do I even start looking?” Ten minutes later, I gave up on locating a vase, and stuck the flower arrangements in regular drinking glasses. Problem solved. Trace was helping my mom set the table, when I placed the flowers in their makeshift vases, at the center of the table. “Nice,” Trace snorted, looking at the drinking glass vases. “Sometimes, you have to be resourceful,” I laughed. Once all the food was on the table, we sat down to eat. My mom sat across from Trace and me. My mom had made a batch of her cheesy potatoes, my favorite, among several other side dishes, and she had grilled steaks since the Callahan’s had one of those fancy indoor grills. “This is fantastic,” Trace told her. “Thank you,” she smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Do you cook?” “I love to cook,” he grinned. “Really?” Her eyes widened. “That’s nice to hear.” Turning to me, she whispered under her breath, “He’s a keeper.” “Mom,” I grumbled. Trace chuckled, eyeing me over his glass of ice water, and I knew he had heard her. “So,” she continued, “what do you like to cook, Trace?” He shrugged. “All kinds of things. My mom made sure that my brother and I could cook for ourselves, do laundry, and all kinds of domestic things. She didn’t want us to be clueless.” “Your mom sounds like a wonderful person,” she commented. Trace beamed. “She’s the greatest. I don’t know what I would do without her and my grandparents. Family is everything.”

My heart soared at his words. That was one of my favorite things about Trace, he cared deeply for his family, and wasn’t afraid to express that. “Maybe I’ll get to meet them one day,” she looked between the two of us. “Mom, please,” I hissed. If I didn’t watch her, she’d be asking Trace to propose before he left. “Sorry,” she chuckled, “I’m getting a bit carried away.” “Yeah, you are,” I agreed. “Olivia,” Trace reached for my hand under the table, “it’s fine. I would love for my family to meet you,” he looked at my mom, turning back to me, he added, “but I would like for Olivia to meet them first.” Oh, crap. The color drained from my face. Me, meet Trace’s family? Trace chuckled huskily and whispered in my ear, “It’s payback time…not really though, they’ll love you.” His words did nothing to comfort me. I had never met a guy’s family before. My chest felt tight and I idly wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like. He laughed again before pulling away. “I think it would be nice for Liv to meet your parent’s,” my mom spoke to Trace. “After all, you’ve met me, it only seems fair,” she smirked at me. Who was this woman? She certainly wasn’t the meek mother I was used to. I cleared my throat and forced a bite of potato into my mouth. Swallowing, I asked, “When exactly would this be?” Trace stretched an arm across the back of my chair, his early nerves about meeting my mom, completely gone. Now, I was the nervous one. “Hmmm,” he tapped his stubbled chin and pretended to think. “Soon, I think. They live in the area.” “That sounds…wonderful,” I swallowed a gulp of water. Actually, a lobotomy sounded less frightening than meeting Trace’s family. I was beginning to regret caving to my mom and inviting him to meet her. This was causing me nothing but trouble. “Don’t be worried,” he winked and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I’m not,” I squeaked. “You should know by now,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my shoulder, “that you can’t lie to me.” I completely forgot that my mom was sitting at the table with us and blurted, “You were nervous to meet my mom! Now, you want me to meet your whole family!” He chuckled. “It would only be my mom, brother, and my grandparents.” “And I only asked you to meet my mom! One person, not four!” I cried. My mom laughed and scolded, “Stop freaking out, Liv. Your shyness will only get you in trouble.” I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly. “It’s not that I have anything against meeting your family,” I explained. “I just know how I am and I’ll end up doing something stupid. Like…falling in a hole.” Trace threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll call beforehand and make sure all the holes are filled.” “You know how clumsy I am,” I defended. “I don’t think you’re that clumsy. I think you just get,” his fingers skidded down my neck and my pulse jumped, “nervous around me.” “It’s kind of hard not to get nervous when you do things like that!” I hissed and flicked my gaze in my mother’s direction. “I can’t help it that you’re so affected by me, Olivia,” he crooned. I covered my face with my hands. “Can we not talk about this right now, with my mom sitting right there?” I nodded my head in her direction for emphasis. “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he smirked, sitting back casually in his seat, like as if he hadn’t just made my stomach do somersaults from his touch. “But you will be meeting my family very soon.” My temperature rose and I grabbed my glass of water, downing it. “Liv always did get worked up over the littlest things,” my mom explained. “I’ve noticed that,” Trace grinned at me. “It doesn’t take much to get her…excited.”

My closed fist connected with his thigh, but he laughed it off, his green eyes glowing with mirth. My mom moved the conversation to less…stomach-churning topics, asking me about school, and Trace about being mechanic. At the end of dinner, I volunteered to clean the dishes, and Trace offered to stay and help me so that my mom could go on up to bed. “Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing us. “Absolutely positive,” I assured her, already stacking the dirty plates. “Alright,” she stood, “thank you.” She hugged me and then Trace. “I hope I get to see you again soon. You’re a nice young man, perfect for Liv.” I rolled my eyes. “I’d like to see you again too, Nora. Maybe you and Olivia can come for dinner at my place,” he suggested. “That would be lovely,” she beamed. “Night you two. Don’t get into trouble now,” she looked between us. I waved her off and then picked up the heavy stack of dishes to carry to the sink but Trace snatched them from me. Grinning, he said, “Can’t have you dropping these, Olivia.” “Oh no, that would be tragic,” I laughed, following him to the sink. I turned the water on and added soap. The Callahan’s had a fancy dishwasher but I was scared to work it. It had way too many buttons and I was afraid I might break it. Trace and I worked in silence. He cleaned the dishes and I dried them before putting them away. “We make a good team,” I joked, bumping his hip with mine. “We do,” he grinned down at me. “I hated saying goodbye to you the other morning,” he whispered, staring into my eyes. “I wanted to keep you in my bed all day.” My body hummed at his words and the promise behind them. “I didn’t want to leave,” I confessed. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops on my jeans, and pushed me into the edge of the counter, staring down at me. “And why would you want to leave?” He smirked. Pushing his hips into mine, he added, “I’m spectacular.” “You’re so full of yourself,” I groaned but couldn’t keep the smile off my face. He lifted me up onto the counter so that we were closer in height. “When you’re as wonderful as I am,” he grinned, “there’s no point in sugar coating it.” I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to retort, but he covered my reply with his lips. I hummed in satisfaction. His fingers edged under my shirt, rubbing across my stomach, and then venturing up my back, stopping on the clasp of my bra He pulled away and smiled crookedly. “I better stop before I take you right here.” I paled at his words, imagining my mom walking in on us. That would be beyond embarrassing. He chuckled at my reaction. “I love embarrassing you.” “You’re mean,” I groaned, leaning my forehead against his hard chest. He cupped my cheeks, pulling my head back so that I was forced to look at him. “I really do want you to meet my family,” he whispered huskily, “and it has absolutely nothing to do with getting back at you.” “What if they hate me?” I pouted. “They won’t,” he assured me, “and even if they did, it wouldn’t change the way I feel about you.” He leaned forward, taking one of my earlobes between his teeth, and giving it a light nip. I swallowed thickly. “When do you want me to meet them?” “I’m supposed to have lunch with them in two days. Is that too soon?” He questioned. “It’s perfect,” I squeaked.

I knocked lightly on Avery’s closed bedroom door. I was supposed to be meeting Trace’s family today, but at the rate I was going, it would be the next century before I was ready. I had tried on everything in my suitcase and wasn’t happy with any of my clothes. I wanted to look nice, and make a good impression, but everything I owned fell flat. “Come in,” Avery replied to my knock. I pushed her door open, and found her lying on the floor of her room, flipping through a magazine, while the TV blared in the background. “What’s up?” She asked, turning a page of the magazine. “I’m supposed to be meeting Trace’s mom, brother, and grandparents,” I replied, nervously biting on my lower lip. “Whoa, lover boy is bringing out the big guns. Grandparents, huh?” She smirked, sitting up. “I know, right? I’m super nervous,” I admitted. “I bet you are,” she looked at me sympathetically. “I was hoping,” I kicked a spot on the floor, “that you would help me get ready. I can’t find anything to wear.” Avery grinned. “Of course I’ll help you,” she hopped up from the floor, and opened her closet doors, motioning for me to follow her. “Geez, Avery,” I remarked, looking around her spacious closet, “it looks like a mall in here.” Everything was perfectly organized with shelves, drawers, and racks lining the space. It was exceptionally neat; nothing at all like her closet in our dorm room, which consistently looked like a bomb had went off. “I have a lot of stuff,” she shrugged, rifling through one of the color coded racks of dresses. “It’s very—uh—organized,” I mumbled. Avery glanced at me and rolled her eyes. “My mom is a control freak and makes the maid keep it neat. If it was left up to me…” She drifted off with a small shrug of her shoulders. “It would be a hot mess?” I supplied. “Yeah, that about sums it up,” she smirked. “What do you think of this?” She held out a flowered print wrap dress. “I think I’d be cold,” I muttered. She sighed. “Do you want to make a good impression or not?” “Of course I do,” I glared at her. “Then you’ll wear the dress, with black tights—” she rummaged through the drawer, and pulled out a pair, “—and this blazer,” she added, pulling it off of its hanger. I took the clothes from her and mumbled, “I don’t want to look too dressed up.” “Trust me, Olivia. You want to make a good impression on them and a dress says that you’re a good

girl,” she explained. “As per usual,” I muttered, “your logic is whack.” “You’ll be thanking me later,” she placed a hand on her hip. “And stop pouting, you’re the one that asked for my help.” “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m really-” “Nervous,” she finished. “I know. Change into that and I’ll do your hair and makeup.” My eyes widened. “I promise not to make you look like hooker,” she flounced out of the closet. “I’ll keep the red lipstick far away.” I sighed as she closed the closet door. If I was this nervous now, what would I be like by the time Trace picked me up?

“I told you I wouldn’t make you look like a hooker.” Avery spun me around to face my reflection. She had managed to keep my hair and makeup simple. My eyes were shadowed in different shades of light grays and my lips were slick with a pale pink gloss. She had added a light amount of blush and bronzer to my cheeks. My hair was pulled back in a messy, but stylish, side-bun. “Avery, you’re a life-saver,” I breathed. “Thank you.” “I try,” she smiled and did a little curtsy. I turned away from my reflection and hugged her. “I seriously don’t know what I would do without you as my best friend.” “You wouldn’t have nearly as much fun,” she laughed. “That’s true,” I pulled away. “What time is Trace supposed to get here?” She asked. I picked up my cellphone, which I had placed on her bathroom counter, and read the time. “Any minute,” I groaned as my nerves shot through the roof and straight to outer space. “I’m going to go say goodbye to my mom.” I knew it was silly, but since we had escaped my dad…Aaron…I kept checking on her to make sure she was still here. I was afraid that she’d disappear. Avery winced. “What?” I questioned from the doorway of her bathroom. “Your mom isn’t here,” she muttered quietly. “What? Where did she go? Why isn’t she here?” I went into panic mode, assuming the worst, which was that Aaron had found her. She eyed me sheepishly. “My brother took her to lunch.” “What?!” I shrieked. “Apparently my brother has the hots for your mom,” she giggled, but quickly sobered when she saw that I didn’t find it funny. “Your brother’s like—” I quickly did the math. “—twenty-two. That’s disgusting.” “I told ya Nick liked them older. Besides, your mom is really pretty,” she shrugged. Even though we had only been here a week, my mom looked like a whole new person. Her eyes were bright and she smiled more. She had bought new clothes that weren’t so frumpy and she’d even gotten her hair cut and styled. She looked nothing like the woman I’d called mom in New Hampshire. I shuddered. “My mom and your brother. I can’t even,” I shook my head rapidly back and forth. Avery made a face like she had sucked on a sour grape. “That was not a pleasant visual I just got in my head.” “Ew! Avery!” I shrieked. She giggled. “Sorry, I’m a visual person.” “Stop,” I covered my eyes, “please, stop. I can not be thinking about this right now.” At that moment my phone beeped, saving me from the nasty seed Avery had planted in my head. Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite saved. I’m here. U ready? Trace asked. I’ll be down in a minute. I texted back. “Wish me luck,” I told Avery. “You don’t need any,” Avery tsked. “They’ll love you. You’re every parent’s dream for their son. You’re

pretty, smart, and nice,” she ticked each attribute off on her fingers. “Thanks,” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to run out and leave you here-” “It’s no big deal. I’m going to Luca’s,” she grinned. “I should’ve known,” I sighed. “You better get out of here,” she smacked my butt, “before Tracey-poo comes in here after you.” I rolled my eyes. “Can you please stop calling him by that ridiculous name?” I asked, striding out of her room. “Nope!” She called after me. I sighed and grabbed my purse from the guestroom before making my way downstairs and out through the garage. It was snowing again; a good inch already coated the ground. Growing up in New Hampshire I was used to heavy snows but people in this area flipped out if there was even a dusting of snow on the ground. “Hey,” I smiled lightly, climbing into the car. “You look nice,” he grinned. “Who are you trying to impress? It’s certainly not me,” he joked with a small chuckle. I tugged on the end of the dress and buckled my seatbelt. “Hmm, who could I want to impress?” “They’re going to love you,” he reached for my hand and gave it a small squeeze before letting go to back out of the driveway. “Don’t worry. I was nervous to meet your mom, and she liked me, right?” “That’s because you’re extremely likable,” I groaned. “I’m the quiet shy girl that everybody overlooks because they think she’s standoffish. I don’t want your family to think I’m rude.” “They would never think that,” Trace sighed, glancing both ways before turning out of the neighborhood. “How do you know?” I sulked. My nerves were getting the best of me. I had never ever met a guy’s parents, because I had never dated before. This was completely new for me. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. “Because, I know everything,” he winked. I fanned my face. “It’s really hot in here.” I wiggled in my seat. “I think my butt’s on fire.” Trace chuckled and pushed a button. “Sorry, the seat warmers are kinda hot.” “How far away does your mom live?” I asked, chewing nervously on my fingernail. Trace grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my mouth. “Not that far.” “That’s vague,” I frowned. “About fifteen to twenty minutes from here,” he shrugged. “And your grandparents will be there too? Are they your mom’s parent’s or your dad’s?” I rattled. “They’re my dad’s parents and they—uh—live with my mom and brother. Or my mom and brother live with them. Whichever way you prefer to look at it,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Um-okay, because that’s not confusing at all,” I muttered. He chuckled. “It used to be my grandparents’ house but they gave it to my dad. They continued to live there though.” “Gotcha,” I mumbled, staring out the window at the snow falling. We both grew quiet and I silently coached myself that everything would be okay, and I wouldn’t make a complete and total fool out of myself. I never did well with meeting new people and I knew my anxiety would be ten times worse with meeting Trace’s family. I chewed nervously on my bottom lip, and it began to bleed, but I didn’t care. It distracted me and that’s exactly what I wanted. I’d chew right through it if I had to. We drove deep into a thickly wooded area with large houses every few acres or so. Finally, Trace came to a plain black mailbox, and turned in the driveway, but I still couldn’t see the house. The forest surrounded us and I was afraid the craggily branches on the nearby trees would scratch the shiny black finish of the car. The driveway, or maybe it was a road, went on forever. We still hadn’t come to an end five minutes later. “Are you really taking me to your mom’s house or did you just drive me out here to murder me where no one can hear me scream?” I gulped. Trace’s laughter filled the car. “You’re funny.”

Actually, I was being serious. We were in the middle of nowhere and the snow was coming down in thick white flakes that blanketed the ground like a fluffy blanket. At this rate, it would snow six or eight inches. In this area, that was rare, and akin to the zombie apocalypse. But seriously, if Trace wanted to off me, all he’d have to do— “Oh my God,” I gasped as the trees finally opened up. High up on the peak of the hill, we were currently driving up to, was the biggest house—no, mansion —I had ever seen. Avery’s house was huge but could have easily fit inside this one twice. It was huge…gymungo…gargantuan...imposing. And I was all out of words to describe it. It was all brick with tall windows. A high fence hid the backyard but I was sure there was a massive pool back there and whatever else rich people put in their yards. My mouth was hanging open and I was pressed as close to the glass of the windshield as possible. “This isn’t real,” I muttered. I couldn’t get over the sheer size of the place. I had seen big houses before but never anything like this. It looked like something that should belong to a celebrity not a normal person. “This is where you grew up?” I squeaked. “Yeah,” Trace replied, chuckling at my reaction. “People live here?” I gasped. He snorted. “That’s typically what people do, you know, live in houses.” “But it’s so big!” I exclaimed, squinting my eyes, as if that alone would make the mansion smaller. Trace scratched the back of his head and muttered, “I know.” “I thought you said your dad was a mechanic?” I accused. “He was…but it wasn’t his job, just a hobby,” he parked the car in front of a four-car garage attached to the mansion. There was another four-car garage detached from the house with what looked like an apartment overhead. “Who are you?” I glared at him. I felt like he had lied to me. I thought Trace was just a normal guy, with normal parents, a normal childhood, and this was anything but normal. He ground his teeth together, and yanked the keys out of the ignition, fiddling with them. “I knew you would react like this and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.” “This is a big thing to keep from me!” I pointed to the house. “You-you’re-ugh!” “This,” he pointed to the mansion, “changes nothing, Olivia. I’m still me.” “But—” I gasped, “—you were raised by Daddy Warbucks or something!” I exclaimed, still gaping open-mouthed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how to explain this to you.” “How about you use your words for starters!” I was getting angry now. I had been nervous enough to meet his family, toss in this, and I was close to having a heart attack. This was completely unexpected and it made me realize just how little I really did know about Trace. If he had kept this a secret, what else was he hiding? He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “I come from old money-” “That makes me feel so much better!” I snapped sarcastically, crossing my arms over my chest. “Are you going to listen to what I have to say or not?” He waited for me to nod before continuing. “Like I said, I come from old money. It goes back several generations. I was never that interested in our family history so I don’t know how many Greats it might be. Anyway, Great-Granddaddy-Whatever made his fortune during World War I when he invented some new way to make bullets or some shit like that, and it made him a lot of money, and the business boomed from there.” “This is insane,” I whispered. “I am not this,” he pointed to the house. “I am me,” he shoved a finger into his chest, “and my family history does not define me. I can’t change where I come from, Olivia, and I wouldn’t want to,” he pulled at the ends of his hair. “I have a good, loving, family that is nothing like the uppity people you’re thinking of,” he growled. “They’re normal everyday people. Don’t you think I’m normal?” He pleaded. I nodded. He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to look at me differently because of this. I thought springing it on you would be the best route,” he rubbed his chin, “but I can see now I was wrong.” “I’m sorry,” I placed a hand on his cheek and forced him to look at me. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It upset me because I feel like I’ve shared so much with you, and if you didn’t tell me about this, what else are you not telling me.”

“Fair enough,” he whispered. “But please go inside and don’t freak out. I know it’s a big house and it seems overwhelming, but my family is perfectly normal, in fact,” he grinned, “we might be a little bit redneck.” “I doubt that,” I rolled my eyes and a small laugh escaped my lips. “You’d be surprised,” he grinned. “We better get in there before they come out to see what’s taking us so long.” “You’re right,” I looked at the time on my phone and saw that we had been talking for ten minutes. “Oh, and Olivia?” He asked, leaning towards me. “Yeah?” I replied feeling a little sick knowing I was about to meet the Rockefeller’s of Virginia. “I’ve thought of something that might distract you from your nerves,” his voice had grown husky and his eyes were a dark forest green. “What?” I squeaked. “This,” he murmured, and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling my lips against his. He kissed me thoroughly, leaving me flustered when he pulled away. “Was that sufficient?” His lips turned up in a lopsided grin. “What?” I muttered. “Yep, it worked,” he hopped out of the car and jogged around to open the passenger door. I stepped onto the driveway, my feet sinking through three inches of snow, and the little white fluff balls quickly gathered in my hair and on my shoulders. Trace looked up, sticking out his tongue to catch a flake. I watched one fall onto his eyelash where it immediately melted and he wiped it away. Once he was successful in catching a snowflake, he grinned at me impishly, like a small boy. “I had to,” he chuckled and held out his hand for me to take. We hesitantly made our way to the garage, cautious of the slippery ground. Trace flipped open a panel, and entered a code, a second later, one of the garage doors began to raise. I took a deep breath, tempted to beg him to kiss me again. My heart had plummeted to my stomach and my stomach had dropped entirely out of my body and was currently flopping around on the ground. “Breathe,” Trace reminded me. I let out a gust of air. “Breathe,” he repeated as he twisted the knob on the door and leaned over to push a button that closed the garage door. With a firm grip on my hand, he led me into the house. It didn’t take long for me to get confused. The house was massive. We passed by so many open and closed doors that I quickly lost count. The wide hallway opened up and we stood in a large foyer with the highest ceiling I had ever seen and a shiny marble floor. I turned around, taking in the two massive staircases, and tilted my head back to gaze at a chandelier that was bigger than my car. “Wow,” I gasped in awe. “Are you sure we’re still in Virginia?” “I’m sure,” he chuckled. “This place belongs in Beverly Hills,” I murmured, turning around to face the massive front door. “I’ve never seen a house like this before…only on TV and in magazines.” My mouth was open in awe. “It’s alright,” he shrugged with a laugh. “Alright?” I smacked his shoulder. He grinned. “Okay, maybe it’s more than alright.” “I’d say,” I whispered, peering to the right of the staircases where there was a living room. A gas fireplace was lit there, and I watched the flames for a moment, admiring the way they illuminated the room with an orange glow. “Enough gawking,” Trace grabbed my hand, leading me to a different part of the house. I think he was purposely trying to get me lost so that if I decided to run, I wouldn’t be able to find my way out. Suddenly, Trace stopped, and I would’ve fallen over my feet if he hadn’t had a firm hold on my hand. “I really am sorry that I didn’t tell you,” he cupped my cheek with his free hand. “It’s okay,” I sighed. “I understand why you didn’t.” I glanced around at the spacious hallway and expensive fixtures. “It’s a bit much.” “Still, you were right. You’ve been honest with me, Olivia, and I didn’t return the favor,” he rubbed his

thumb over my cheek. “I won’t make that mistake again.” “Alright,” I breathed, my eyes fluttering closed as his thumb skirted over my lips. He kissed me lightly, and I jerked back, eyes popping open. “Trace! Someone might see!” “You’re so shy,” he chuckled, “it was just a little kiss.” “Yeah, a kiss that your mom, grandma, grandpa, or brother could’ve walked in on,” I ticked each of them off on my fingers. “You worry too much. Live a little,” he grinned and pushed open the double doors we had stopped in front of. The doors opened into a formal dining room, that much was clear, but I couldn’t look around. Instead, my gaze was focused on the four people sitting at the table, looking right at me. Trace cleared his throat. “Hi, mom.” She smiled at her son and then smiled at me. “You must be Olivia. Trace can’t seem to stop talking about you.” My cheeks colored at her words and my eyes darted to the ground. “Mom,” Trace groaned. “Don’t mom me,” she eyed her son. “It’s true and it makes me so happy that Trace has finally found someone he cares so much about,” she addressed me. “Thank you,” I squeaked. “Stop being rude boy,” a gruff man with thinning gray hair said from the end of the table, “introduce us to your girl.” Trace coughed. “Olivia, that old geezer is my Gramps, Warren.” “Just call me, Gramps,” Warren smiled. “No need to get all fancy.” Trace pointed to the distinguished older lady beside his grandpa. She had curly, shoulder-length, graying blonde hair. Her eyes and smile were kind when she looked at me. She had a calming affect that instantly put me at ease. “And that lovely lady is my Grammy, Eleanor.” Eleanor smiled and surprised me by scooting her chair back to hug me. Trace released my hand and I hugged his grandma back. “It’s so nice to meet you, sweetie,” she held me at arm’s length, “and call me Grammy or Ellie, it’s up to you.” “It’s nice to meet you too, Ellie,” I smiled back. She took her seat and Trace pointed to his mom. “That’s my mom, Lily.” Lily, like Eleanor, stood to hug me. She was on the shorter side with straight dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, Lily,” I whispered when she pulled away. My voice had all but completely left me. “And that fucktard—” “TRACE!” Lily and Ellie screamed while Warren chuckled. “—is my brother, Trenton,” Trace grinned. “But everyone calls me Trent,” the guy spoke up. He looked a lot like his brother, with dark hair and expressive eyes, but while Trace’s were green, Trent’s were a bright blue like his mom’s. A black baseball cap sat atop his head and he had black gauges in his ears. His grin was infectious, with small dimples indenting each cheek, and I was sure that the girls at his school dropped at his feet. Trace had the whole hot bad boy thing going for him but Trent had it even more. The sleeves of his blue sweatshirt were rolled up to his elbows and at the edge of the fabric, I saw the start of a tattoo that I was sure went up the rest of his arm. “Hi,” I waved. “Now that introductions have been made,” Warren grinned, “you can sit down and eat.” I followed Trace to the side of the table where his grandma and Trent were sitting. He pulled out the chair beside his brother and flicked his hand in a gesture for me to sit down. I did and he pushed the chair into the table. “I knew there was a gentleman in there somewhere,” Warren chortled. “Gramps,” Trace muttered, “quit it.” “A little teasing never killed anyone,” Warren winked and took a sip of red wine. “Cecilia!” He called through a doorway I hadn’t noticed. An older Hispanic lady came scurrying into the room. “We’re ready for lunch.” Cecilia brought out each of our plates, and drinks for Trace and me. She paused by Warren’s chair,

waiting for instruction. “That’ll be all,” he said, “please help yourself to a plate in the kitchen. There’s plenty.” She smiled, and scurried out of the room, her short black heels clacked against the marble floors. I took a bite of the roasted chicken. It was coated in a citrus glaze with a hint of basil and the flavors exploded across my tongue. I was swallowing a bite of garlic-mashed potatoes when Lily asked, “Did you grow up around here?” “No,” I shook my head. “I grew up in New Hampshire. I came here for college.” “Oh,” she smiled, “what are you planning to major in?” “I want to be an English teacher,” I answered nervously. She beamed. “I was a science teacher before I met my husband. I miss it.” “Really?” I asked, shocked. She nodded. “It’s a rewarding job when you’re in it for the right reasons. So,” she cleared her throat, “are you planning on staying here after you graduate or going back to New Hampshire?” Before I could answer her, Trent nudged my arm. “That’s her backwards way of asking if you’re going to take my brother away. He’s her favorite,” he grinned boyishly. His smile and looks were so similar to Trace’s that it was disarming. Trace chuckled beside me at his brother’s words and his mom was blushing. “Trent,” she scolded. “What?” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s all true.” I laughed, starting to feel more at ease. I looked across the table at Lily. “I plan on staying in the area. I like it here.” Trace squeezed my knee under the table. “Good,” she smiled, “it’s nice here.” “It is,” I smiled back, “and the people,” I looked over at Trace, “make it even nicer.”

“I told you they were nice,” Trace grinned, showing me around the palatial mansion. “They’re great,” I agreed. Trace pushed open a set of double doors and dragged me inside. I stopped in my tracks, looking around the empty room, with tables and chairs for events stacked against the wall and a stage in the corner. Crystal chandeliers dotted the ceiling and gold sconces were affixed to the walls. The walls shimmered with ivory and gold wallpaper, accented by the shiny marble floors. “A ballroom? You have a freakin’ ballroom in your house,” I gasped. “Not my house,” he chuckled. I rolled my eyes. “According to what your grandpa said, it will be yours.” “Yeah,” he shrugged, leading me out to the middle of the floor. “But I never plan on living here. I mean, I grew up here, and I turned out fine,” he grinned like a little boy, “but…it’s kinda…cold. I want a home. I don’t want to raise my kids in a palace. I want them to have a normal life, with a dog, and white picket fence.” I smiled. “You want kids?” “Well, yeah,” he scratched his head. “Not now, but eventually. Until then,” he leaned down to whisper huskily in my ear, “I’ll have lots of fun practicing.” I shivered and he chuckled. Changing the topic completely, he held out a hand for me, and asked, “May I have this dance?” “But there’s no music,” I laughed, “and you suck at dancing.” “You wound me,” he winced but with a smile. “Maybe, I just want an excuse to hold you for a little while.” I shook my head but placed my hand in his outstretched palm. He took advantage and pulled me flush against his body. With his free hand, he pressed my waist against his, and I gasped aloud when I felt the prominent bulge. I blushed and gazed up at him. With a very bad, fake British accent, I gasped, “Mr. Wentworth, I’m scandalized.” He laughed. “It’s your fault,” he winked, “you always look so damn hot. Now,” he smiled and his green eyes shimmered, “stop talking and just enjoy the music.” “But there is no-” He began to hum and we swayed back and forth. With a light laugh, I laid my head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. “Now there’s music,” I murmured. I didn’t know how much time had passed but it wasn’t long until the doors of the ballroom opened. I reluctantly pulled away from Trace, and faced Warren, who was leaning against one of the open

doors, with his hand on a cane. “What is it, Gramps?” Trace sounded concerned. “I wanted to let you two lovebirds know that you’re snowed in,” he muttered. “I called the snow removal company I use and they can’t get here till morning. That’s what we get for living in the boonies,” he thrust a finger in the air. “Regardless, it’s snowing something fierce out there, and not fit for driving. You’ll both stay here tonight.” “No,” I gasped, “I can’t.” “Of course you can, darlin’,” Warren covered a cough. I looked beside me, at Trace, nervously chewing my lip. “Looks like we’re snowed in,” he grinned, rubbing his hands together. “This is going to be fun.”

It was official. I had the worst luck ever. Honestly, who goes to meet their boyfriend’s family, and ends up snowed in at their McMansion? This girl, that’s who. Trace and I ended up hanging out with his brother, and watched movies for most of the afternoon, before eating dinner, and heading upstairs to go to bed. Trace opened the door to what I assumed was a guestroom, but when he flicked the switch and the room was illuminated, I knew it had to be his bedroom. The walls were painted a light gray and the bedspread on the king sized bed was charcoal and red stripes. The tip-off, that it was Trace’s room, was the baseball memorabilia scattered around. “Nope,” I bumped back into his chest. “Nope, nope, nope, nope! I can’t sleep here,” I turned around, and tried to escape out the door, but he was blocking it. “Yes, you can,” his eyes darkened. “It’s my room, and it’s my bed, and I want you in it.” I gulped. “But your mom and-” He snorted. “They’re not from the dark ages, Olivia,” he pinched my hip lightly. “Besides, their rooms are all on the other side of the house, and Trent’s room is in the middle. Even if that wasn’t the case, these walls are really thick.” “Trace!” I shrieked. He answered with a chuckle, and picked me up by the waist, tossing me over his shoulder. He ran across the massive bedroom and dropped me on his bed. He gazed down at me and wet his lips. “Now I have you right where I want you.” “Trace,” I warned but he silenced me with his mouth. He was really good at doing that. He hovered above me, careful to keep his weight from pressing against me. I pushed at his shoulders lightly, and he pulled away, gazing at me quizzically. “We really-” He cut me off with another kiss. He pulled away again and pressed his hand against my mouth. “I’m going to keep kissing you until you give in.” I glared and stuck out my tongue in an effort to lick his hand. He grinned and wiped his hand on his jeans. “Try that again, buddy, and I’ll bite your hand,” I cautioned. “Promise?” He asked with playful wide eyes. “You’re so weird,” I pushed his shoulder, and he rolled off me onto his back, and pulled me with him so that I was straddling him. He reached up and cupped my cheek. “We don’t have to do anything, Olivia. I’m perfectly content to lay here and hold you in my arms.” I snorted. “Yeah, it really feels like you’re okay with that,” I ground my hips against his. He chuckled. “I can take a cold shower. Problem solved.” Conflicted, I bit down on my lower lip. I wanted Trace, badly. The slow ache building in my core was proof of that, but the thought of his family being in the same house, freaked me out. “Hey,” he reached up and tugged my lip from between my teeth, wiping away a smidgen of blood I had drawn. “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly. He sat up with me in his lap, cradling my bottom in his hands. “Absolutely, Olivia. I would never force you to do something you’re uncomfortable with.” I leaned my head against his chest and nodded. “I want to…I do…but I can’t.” He forced my head back so that he could stare into my eyes. “I understand,” he kissed me sweetly. With a grin, he added, “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with your mom around hearing you scream my name.” I ground my teeth together and narrowed my eyes. “Do you think before you talk?” “Of course,” he fingered one of my loose curls, “but I enjoy watching your reactions to the things I say. A blush here,” he grazed his fingers lightly over my cheek. “Or there,” he brushed the curve of my ear. “But my favorite,” he looked into my eyes, “is when you blush right here,” he skimmed his fingers lightly over my breasts. My breath stuttered out in short little gasps as I tried to get air to my oxygen-deprived brain. Trace held out a hand to me. “Want to shower?” My eyes widened and he chuckled. “I promise to be good boy, and go down the hall to take my shower, separate from you.” “Sure,” I nodded. I knew if Trace got in the shower with me, neither of us would be able to hold back. He led me through a short hallway in his bedroom. There was a door on the left that he said was his closet and the door to our right was the bathroom. I could see through the archway in front of us that there was even a living room attached to his bedroom. Trace opened the bathroom door with a flourish. I stepped inside, looking around at the shiny black floors and countertops, gray walls, and all the fancy finishing touches. My eyes zeroed in on the massive shower that looked more like a car wash. It could have easily fit six people inside. The amount of knobs and showerheads was scary. “I’m never going to be able to work that,” I pointed to the shower. “It’s not as hard as it looks,” he chuckled, “but I’ll get it going for you.” I watched as he turned several knobs, water spraying out of a rain showerhead, and body sprayers. He checked the temperature and closed the glass shower door. “I’ll grab you some of my old clothes to wear. I doubt that would be comfortable to sleep in,” he plucked at my dress, “and,” he grinned impishly, “if you sleep naked, I can’t be held accountable for my actions.” Before I had the chance to reply, he strode out of the bathroom, and into his closet. He returned with an old high school baseball team shirt and a pair of boxers. He laid them on the counter, then dug underneath the cabinet, pulling out a cloth and towel. He placed those on the counter and continued to look for something. “Aha!” He finally chimed and held out a new toothbrush and toothpaste triumphantly. “You should be all set,” he looked around the bathroom, which was quickly filling with steam. “Thank you,” I smiled, suddenly feeling bashful. He kissed my cheek, as if sensing my sudden shyness, and closed the door behind him. I wasn’t in the shower long, just enough to clean my body, and scrub my face free of makeup. I could wash my hair in the morning. I had always hated washing my hair at night and going to bed with it wet. I dried off, wrapped the towel around my body, brushed my hair out with a comb I found on the counter, and then brushed my teeth. I pulled on Trace’s shirt and it hung down past my butt but not quite to my knees. I grabbed his boxers and pulled those on as well so I wouldn’t feel so exposed. I cleaned up the counter and then padded back into his bedroom. He wasn’t back yet and I breathed a sigh of relief. I pushed the covers back and sighed in pleasure at the feeling of the soft sheets rubbing my skin. The door cracked open and Trace tiptoed inside. “I’m not asleep,” I grinned. “Oh,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his damp hair. I sat up and studied him in the dim light of the bedroom. “Are you wearing glasses?” “Oh, um, yeah,” he stuttered. “I can’t sleep in my contacts.” “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I tilted my head and smiled at him. “I like them.” “They’re so dorky,” he groaned, sliding in beside me.

“I don’t think so,” I laid back and turned on my side to face him in the bed. The glasses were thick black-framed retro looking ones. “You’re just saying that.” “I’m not lying, you look good in them. You should wear them more often,” I cupped my hands under my head. “I didn’t know you had a fetish for glasses,” he snickered. “You’re impossible,” I rolled over to my other side and faced away from him. He turned out the light on his side of the bed. The sheets rustled as he wiggled around and settled beside me. “Are you mad at me?” He asked. “Or can I hold you?” “You can hold me,” I whispered. The bed dipped down behind me, as he scooted closer until my back was spooned to his front, and his arm was thrown across my body. “Good. I wanted to make sure before you bit my arm off or something,” he chuckled. “We have all night,” I warned. “I love it when your spitfire side comes out,” he whispered. I snorted, and closed my eyes, resolving not to reply so that I could get some sleep. I was close to drifting asleep when Trace whispered, “Olivia?” “Yeah,” I replied softly. He paused. “Why did you tell me about your list?” I had often asked myself the same thing. Why so soon? Why Trace? What made him different? “I-I don’t know. You…made me feel…safe,” I stuttered. “A part of me didn’t want to tell you…” I paused. “I was afraid of what you would think of me. But something made me take that leap. I guess…” I searched for the right words to explain how I felt. “I guess I was tired of being the girl hiding in the shadows. I wanted you to show me the light.” “Regardless,” he whispered huskily, his breath gusting against my ear, and the curve of my cheek, “I’m glad you did.” “Me too,” I replied but the words were barely above a whisper.

I was shaking. Why was I shaking? “Wake up,” Trace coaxed and I felt something soft press against my lips. Slowly, I opened my eyes to see Trace hovering above me. He grinned like a little boy. “I knew kissing you would do the trick, just like Cinderella.” “You’re thinking of Sleeping Beauty,” I yawned, covering my open mouth with a hand. “Whatever,” he rolled off of me. “Are you always this…chipper in the mornings?” I groaned. “No,” he smiled wickedly, “I’m usually horny.” I tossed a pillow at his face. He caught it and tucked it behind his back. “It’s not that I’m not horny this morning,” he continued much to my dismay, “I just figured you wouldn’t appreciate waking up with me between your legs.” I moaned, and it wasn’t in irritation. His words had sent tingles of pleasure straight through me. Damn him. He licked his lips and leaned closer. “Based on that little moan of pleasure, I’m guessing you wouldn’t have objected.” His hand skimmed over the side of my hip, and he nuzzled my neck, kissing it tenderly. I pushed his shoulder so he ended up sprawled across the other side of the bed. He looked excited, no doubt he was thinking I was about to hop on, and take a ride. Crazy man. “Down boy,” I warned. “Ugh, you’re mean,” he pretended to wince. “And you’re driving me insane,” I sighed. “Are my ploys working?” He gazed at me with a smirk. I rolled my eyes and climbed from the bed. “I’m going to shower,” I called as I walked away. “You can run but you can’t hide,” he sing-songed and I heard rustling as he climbed from the bed.

“Don’t even think about joining me, bud. I know what your agenda is and it’s not happening,” I snapped. “Fine,” I heard him say before I closed the bathroom door; “I’ll just take you back to my place and handcuff you to my bed. Problem solved,” he cackled. I washed my long hair in record time, afraid that Trace was going to pop in the bathroom any second. He was driving me insane with all his innuendos, and I was close to taking him up on it, but the thought of being in his family’s house was too awkward for me to get over. Especially, since I had only met them last night. If he kept it up though, I would be begging him to chain me to his bed. What had Trace turned me into? I dressed quickly in the same outfit I wore yesterday which I had left folded neatly on the counter. When I walked back into the bedroom, Trace was dressed, and the bed was made. “Hungry?” He asked. “Cecilia made breakfast.” “Starving,” I smiled graciously. I followed him through the maze like house and into the dining room. We were the first to arrive and Cecilia was starting to bring out different dishes of food. “Do you guys always eat your meals in here?” I asked, looking around at the grandeur dining room. “Yeah, Gramps likes to eat in here. He says if we’re going to have a fancy dining room we might as well use it. There’s an eat-in area in the kitchen but it’s never been used.” “Huh,” I mused quietly. “I would think there would be a lot of unused spaces in this house.” “Gramps, is weird,” Trace shrugged. “Respect your elders, boy,” Warren snapped as he came hobbling into the dining room. He stopped behind Trace and smacked the back of his head with a surprising amount of strength. “Sorry, Gramps,” Trace muttered. “You gotta watch this one,” Warren chuckled as he sat down, and addressed me, a finger pointed at his grandson, “if he gets outta line, you’ve just got to give him a little smack.” He swatted at the air for emphasis. “That’ll straighten him right up.” I laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” The rest of the family strolled casually into the dining room. I grabbed a bagel and slathered it in cream cheese and added two scoops of mixed fruits onto my plate. Cecilia brought out champagne flutes filled with orange juice and a slim orange slice along the rim. “How did you sleep?” Trace’s mom, Lily, asked me. “Well, thank you,” I took a sip of orange juice. “I’m glad the guestroom was to your liking,” she smiled. “Wait, what?” I gasped. Trace snickered beside me. I glared over at him. “Way to go!” Trent fist bumped Trace. “Oh, God,” I hung my head in my hands. “I—uh—take it you didn’t sleep in the guestroom,” Lily chuckled. “This is so embarrassing,” I mumbled “Don’t be embarrassed,” she shrugged, spearing her scrambled eggs, “you’re both adults.” “Still,” I glared at Trace. “You’re such a little liar.” “I told you she wouldn’t care,” he shrugged. “Ugh,” I groaned, praying a hole would open up, and swallow me. Warren cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to the head of the table. “I was able to speak with Cameron, who owns the snow removal business we use, and he said that they should be able to clear the driveway this afternoon.” I smiled gratefully and then paled. “Oh my God!” I stood up from the table. “I forgot to let my mom and Avery know we got snowed in. They’re probably so worried,” I started to dart away from the table but Trace caught my arm. “I talked to your mom last night, you were in the shower, and your phone rang,” he explained. “I answered and told her what had happened.” “Oh, thank goodness,” I put a hand to my racing heart and sat back down.

Trent snickered from across the table. “Did you seriously say, ‘Thank goodness’?” “Um, yeah,” I replied. He laughed quietly. “Grammy says that.” “That’s because Grammy’s cool,” Trace slung his arm across the back of my chair. “Grammy’s not cool,” Trent snorted. Ellie glared at her youngest grandson. “Who was it that went snowboarding with you during winter break last year?” “You did,” Trent squeaked. “And what did you say then?” She raised a brow, waiting for his response. “That you were the coolest grandma ever,” he mumbled, looking down at the shiny wooden table. Ellie smiled. “Now, that that’s settled, let’s all enjoy this lovely breakfast.”

“Okay,” I held up a finger, “so in the basement, there’s a movie theater, a game room, a basketball court, and a bowling alley. What else do you guys have?” “Well,” Trace collapsed on the huge sectional couch in the family room, “in the backyard, there’s a pool with a diving board, slide, and waterfall. There’s a hot tub too. And if you don’t mind walking, we have a tennis court, because back in the day, Grammy played, and Gramps added that. We also have a couple of tree stands for hunting scattered around the property.” I stood, looking around the gargantuan family room. Trace grabbed my arm and pulled me on top of him. He smoothed my hair away from my eyes and cupped my cheek. “You look like a little kid in a candy store with your mouth hanging open like that. Should I find you a lollipop?” I rolled my eyes. “It’s kinda unbelievable that you grew up here and your family is great. They’re not stuffy at all. I love your grandpa,” I thundered on, ignoring his statement about lollipops. “I told you,” he grinned, “and they love you.” I snuggled against his warm chest and closed my eyes. “I love them too,” I murmured, before the calming symphony of our breaths sang me to sleep.

I hugged Warren tightly. I had never met my grandparents and I found something in Warren that I connected with. “Come back and see us,” he whispered in my ear. “Don’t worry about being with Trace. Come anytime, ya hear?” I pulled away and nodded. “I will.” He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners. My eyes lit upon a picture behind Warren. “Is that-” He turned and smiled sadly. “Trace’s dad?” He supplied. I nodded. “It is. The resemblance is uncanny. Trey marked both of those boys. There is no doubting they’re members of the Wentworth family. Trace looks the most like him though,” Warren explained. “That boy loved his daddy something fierce. He did some bad things after Trey died in the accident. He was like a different person. Somehow, he found his way back to the light, and I’m so thankful for it,” Warren breathed. “For a while there, it was like we lost two people. Did Trace tell you that he was with his dad when he died?” “No,” I gasped, tears automatically welling in my eyes. “He doesn’t like to talk about it but they were out goofing around on those bikes and a semi-truck slammed into Trey. Bastard didn’t even stop. Trey was in front of Trace, so poor Trace saw everything. There were body parts scattered everywhere.” Sobs raked my body. “Th-that’s h-h-hor-ible,” I stuttered. I couldn’t imagine the kind of pain that one would experience from an event like that. No wonder Trace had gone off the deep end. Anyone would. “Don’t cry, sweetie,” Warren hugged me to his robust chest. His hand rubbed up and down my back soothingly. “I didn’t tell ya to make ya cry. I just wanted to help you understand my grandson better. He pushed everyone away after his dad died and I don’t want to see him do the same thing to you, because Olivia, you’re the best thing that’s happened to him in a long time,” he swallowed thickly. “If he grows distant, you’re going to have to push him, don’t let him retreat into that dark hole he disappears to inside himself.” “I won’t,” I vowed, remembering the first time Trace kissed me, and how he walked away from me. I understood now why he did. When you lose someone you care about that much, it’s hard to connect with someone, for the fear of getting hurt again. Warren continued to hold me until all my tears had been shed. “Better?” He asked, as I swiped underneath my eyes. “Yeah,” I nodded, my voice a little shaky, “I’m glad you told me. It was just a lot to take in.” “Of course,” he replied as the others joined us in the foyer.

“Why are you crying?” Concerned, Trace ran to my side, and began looking me over. “I’m fine,” I squirmed under his gaze. “No, you’re not. You’re crying, and in my book, crying never means someone’s fine or okay. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it,” he pleaded. I looked at Warren pleadingly, for him to come up with an excuse. “I was just telling Olivia,” Warren started, “that I may not know her well but I consider her as much my granddaughter as you are my grandson and that she’s welcome here anytime. She just got emotional, that’s all. Women cry for no reason sometimes, boy, get used to it,” he clapped Trace on the shoulder before disappearing behind a door I had been told led to his home office. “You see, I never had grandparents,” I shrugged, trying to explain away my tears further. I didn’t think Trace would take too kindly to the fact that his grandpa had told me how his dad died. “Oh,” he nodded, absorbing my words. “Okay.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I said my goodbye’s to the rest of Trace’s family and followed him out through the garage. The snow had been completely cleared. I only hoped the actual road was as snow free as the driveway. Luckily, no one seemed brave enough to be out driving, so we practically had the road to ourselves, which was nice. I didn’t have to worry about us hitting a spot of ice and slamming into another car. Trace pulled into Avery’s driveway. “I’m sorry we got snowed in,” he said softly. “I’m not. It gave me more time to get to know them,” I smiled. He reached for my hand. “They all love you. You were great.” “I’m happy I didn’t throw up on myself,” I laughed. “I was really nervous.” Trace chuckled. “I think Gramps wishes he could replace, Trent and me, with you.” “I doubt that,” I rolled my eyes. “I better get in there,” I pointed to the door. In fact, I was kind of surprised that Avery hadn’t come running out to assault me with questions. “Alright,” he leaned over to kiss me deeply. “On second thought,” I breathed, cupping his chin in my hand, “I can stay.” “Nice try,” he smiled, running his thumb over my lower lip. He pecked my lips once more and I slipped out of the car. He waited for me to enter the garage code and go inside. It didn’t escape my attention that there was a new car in the garage. I wondered if Avery’s parents had arrived home or if another one of her brothers was here. I opened the door that led into the mudroom and was greeted by a flustered Avery. “Olivia! There you are!” She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the kitchen. “My parents are here,” she hissed in my ear warningly. “Mom, dad,” she called to the two people standing at the center island with their backs to us. “This is Olivia.” They turned around slowly. I was expecting glares and orders to get out of their house. Instead, Avery’s redhead mother came striding towards me with open arms. “It’s so nice to meet you, Olivia. I’m so sorry about what happened with your dad. You and your mom are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I mean that,” she insisted, holding me at arm’s length. Avery looked like a younger version of her mom but with plumper cheeks and lips. Her mom was very thin and tall. Tall enough that I was sure she could have been a model. “Oh, and I’m Theresa, but just call me Resa. And this-” she motioned to the man beside her, “is my husband, Galen.” “Hi,” I waved awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he replied. His blonde hair was cut short and styled to perfection. His light blue eyes seemed to miss nothing. “Avery speaks highly of you,” he added, peering down at me over his thin aristocratic nose, which appeared to be the only thing his daughter had inherited from him. “Okay, great,” Avery grabbed my arm again, “now that introductions have been made, I really need to talk to my best friend.” Before her parents had a chance to respond, she pulled me out of the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder at them apologetically. Avery led me upstairs, and into her room, closing the door behind us. “Spill girl,” she demanded. “How’d it go?” “It went good,” I shrugged. “Good?” She perched on the end of her bed and I collapsed into a green beanbag chair. “I need more details than that.”

“I really liked them and I managed to not do anything stupid,” I answered. “His grandpa is great.” “So, what kind of house did they live in?” She asked, twirling a lock of red hair. “They didn’t exactly live in a—uh—house,” I muttered. Her brows furrowed together. “So, where’d they live? A trailer?” “Um, not quite,” I nervously chewed on a hangnail, and wiggled, causing the balls in the beanbag chair to make a funny swishing sound. “You’re being vague, Olivia. Speak,” she commanded. “You see—well—I don’t know where to begin,” I stuttered, still biting on that stubborn hangnail. “Here’s a wild idea,” she snapped sarcastically, “start at the beginning.” “It’s a mansion, Avery,” I finally managed to find the words, “and when I say a mansion, I mean a mansion.” “Bigger than this house?” She raised one brow. “It makes this house look like a trailer,” I replied. She whistled. “Holy crap…wait,” she eyed me, “what did you say his last name is?” “Wentworth,” I shrugged. “Oh my God,” she stood and began to pace across her bedroom. “I can’t believe I never connected the dots before. I’m so stupid!” She smacked her forehead. “I should’ve known he was one those Wentworth’s. It’s not like there are many around and that family is practically like royalty in this area. I just assumed he couldn’t be related because why would someone worth billions be working at a mechanics shop.” “Billions!?” I screamed shrilly. “No one said anything about billions!” She stopped and gave me a ‘duh’ look. “Of course they’re billionaires, Olivia, or at least pretty damn close to it.” I couldn’t breathe. “Billions?” I gasped again. It had been hard enough for me to swallow the unexpected news of Trace’s family being rich…but billions went beyond rich…that was…insane. I couldn’t begin to imagine what a billion dollars even looked like or what on Earth you’d do with it. “Hey,” Avery knelt down in front of me and pulled my hands away from where they clutched my cheeks. “Are you okay? Is this what a panic attack looks like? Where’s my stupid brother Ben when you need him?” “Why do you need Ben?” I asked. “He’s a doctor,” she shrugged. “Are you okay?” She repeated, looking me over. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I choked. “Do what?” “This—this—relationship with Trace-” I waved my hand dramatically. “He didn’t tell me about his family being rich and now, you’re telling me they’re worth billions! How can I compete with that! I’m a normal girl from New Hampshire, Avery! Not the Hamptons!” “Hey, hey, hey,” she grabbed my flinging hands, and brought them down to my sides, holding them in place. “This,” she pointed her finger in my face, “is exactly why lover boy didn’t tell you. Frankly, I don’t blame him. You do have the tendency to overreact.” I opened my mouth but she shushed me. “Trace is still the same guy he was before you found all this out.” “That’s exactly what he said,” I mumbled reluctantly. She smiled. “It seems to me that Trace has tried to distance himself from that lifestyle. He works as a mechanic, and lives above the garage, it seems to me that he’s trying to make his own life not based on his family’s name.” “It’s just…weird,” I pleaded with my eyes for her to understand me. “I have nothing to my name and he has everything.” “Hey,” she shook me lightly. “Money is not everything. Money does not buy you happiness, Olivia. A shiny new toy doesn’t make up for mommy and daddy being gone all the time. It doesn’t fill an ache inside you. All that matters is how you feel about Trace and how he feels about you.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “You’re right.” “Of course I’m right,” she scoffed. “I’m always right.” I scooted over and made room for her on the beanbag chair. I lay with my head on her shoulder. “You were talking about your mom and dad, weren’t you?” I asked quietly. She nodded. “It’s not that they’re bad people…they’re just not very good parents. They’ve both always

been too focused on making money and traveling…just the two of them. We didn’t matter to them. It’s sad, but true. They tried to make up for being gone all the time by giving us gifts. But that wasn’t enough.” “I’m sorry, Avery,” I whispered. “It was a long time ago. I know they love me and I love them…but it’s a different kind of love. It’s not the way it should be. I hardly know them.” We both grew quiet and then she pleaded, “Don’t let your insecurities make you miss out on the greatest thing to ever happen to you.” “I won’t,” I sighed, “I’m in too deep.” I had fallen too far and too deep to swim back to the surface now. I was sunk, hook, line, and sinker, into Trace Wentworth.

It was Christmas day at the Callahan house, which meant it was awkward central for my mom and me. I made my way down the curved staircase and I heard the whole family in the living room. The sounds of wrapping paper being ripped, met my ears, and I was sure they were all gathered around the massive Christmas tree. I tried to tiptoe by them, into the kitchen, for a glass of orange juice, but since I had the crappiest luck ever, Avery spotted me. “Olivia! Come in here!” She called, and her whole family stopped what they were doing, to look at me. Her remaining four brothers had arrived a few days ago. They seemed nice but I hadn’t talked to them much, preferring to stay out of the way, unnoticed. Unfortunately, Nick had a knack for finding my mother. Gag. Ben, the brother that was a doctor, smiled kindly at me. “Don’t stand there, come in,” he waved me into the room. “Uh,” I stepped into the room and faced all of them. “I was going to get something to drink and go back upstairs. I promise I won’t be in your way.” “Olivia, please, sit down. It’s Christmas,” Galen said. I was surprised he had spoken. He hadn’t said much to me since him and his wife arrived, he hadn’t been mean to me or anything, but he certainly didn’t go out of his way to make conversation. “I feel like I’m intruding,” I tried to back out of the room. “Sit, Olivia,” Avery demanded and like an obedient dog I listened. Dammit. “Thata’ girl,” she patted the top of my head. “I will so get you for this,” I hissed. “Don’t be such a baby. It’s Christmas!” She chimed, throwing her hands in the air with excitement. I glared at her and then began to giggle. “Why are you wearing an elf hat?” I eyed the monstrosity on her head. “It’s tradition!” She exclaimed. I looked around and realized that Galen was wearing a Santa hat, Resa was wearing a Mrs. Klaus bonnet or whatever you wanted to call it, while Avery and the guys all wore elf hats, pointy ears included. A giggle bubbled to the surface, and escaped my lips. At the sound of my laugh, I couldn’t hold back full-blown hysterics. “I need a picture of this,” I wiped tears from my eyes and grabbed my phone from my pocket, snapping a picture of Avery before she had the chance to react. “This is so going in our dorm room,” I laughed, waving my phone around. When her brother’s caught sight of the picture, they began to laugh. Pretty soon, even Resa, Galen,

and Avery were laughing. Once our laughter had ceased, Avery smiled menacingly. “Luckily, we have an extra hat,” she stuck one of those ridiculous elf contraptions on my head. “Now,” she smiled, “we can continue with presents.” “What’s going on?” I turned around to see my mom standing in the doorway. “Olivia’s making everyone laugh,” Nick grinned at my mom. “Join us,” he patted an empty spot of carpet beside him. I watched as she made her way across the room, to Nick, and sat down beside him. He leaned over, and whispered something in her ear, which made her smile and blush at the same time. Avery and I exchanged a look and shook our heads. I had no idea where that was heading, and frankly, I didn’t want to think about the possibilities. When they started making lovey dovey eyes at each other I wanted to point a finger at my head and yell, ‘Mom! Look at me! Your daughter! Over here! Stop staring at the guy young enough to be my brother!’ Nasty. I didn’t understand how she’d become so smitten with Nick so soon. I would’ve thought that after finally getting the courage to leave my father…um, Aaron…the last thing she would have been interested in would be another guy. I guess I was wrong. “I got you something,” Avery beamed and plopped a box in my lap. It was large, but light, and wrapped in shiny green paper with stockings on it. “Avery, you didn’t have to get me anything,” I told her. “I know,” she shrugged, smiling at me, while she played with a strand of red hair. “I feel bad,” I frowned. “I didn’t get you anything.” “Don’t,” she smiled. “Besides, Christmas is about giving gifts not receiving them.” “Are you sure you’re Avery Callahan?” I tapped her forehead. “Yes,” she rolled her eyes. “I do have a heart, you know. Now open it!” I smiled and began tearing off the wrapping paper. It was just a plain brown box, tapped down on all four sides. I used the edge of my fingernail to rip off the tape and then took the lid off. I pushed aside the red and green tissue paper to find a stylish infinity scarf in different shades of blue and a navy button down pea coat. “Avery,” I gasped, pulling the items out of the box. “They’re beautiful.” “I knew you’d love them!” She clapped her hands together. “As soon as I saw them, I knew you had to have them. There’s a hat too,” she shuffled more tissue paper aside and pulled out a beanie in one of the lighter shades of blue from the scarf. “Avery, this is too much. I can’t accept this,” I whispered. “You can and you will. You’re my best friend, Livie, and I wanted to get you something nice, for putting up with all my crazy shit,” she smiled. “I-I-thank you,” I stuttered, completely taken aback by the sweet gesture. “You’re welcome,” she beamed. I hugged my best friend to my chest. “I’m so lucky to have someone as wonderful as you in my life,” I confessed. I didn’t tell Avery enough, how much she meant to me. A lot of people were less than happy with their roommate, but I had found a lifelong friend with mine. “I didn’t know a coat would make you this happy,” she giggled. “I only wanted you to stop wearing those sweatshirts.” We both dissolved into a fit of giggles. “My sweatshirt sure didn’t stop Trace,” I whispered in her ear. “Oh my God,” she laughed. “Livie! Too much information!” “You’re the girl who asks me a million and one questions about my sex life,” I giggled, “and gives me the explicit details of hers.” “True,” she put a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “I do like me some details.” After that, it was hard for us to reign in our laughter.

Once every present was opened, I insisted on helping clean up. After all, they were letting my mom

and me stay there for free. It was the least I could do. Two trash bags were filled to the brim with wrapping paper and I was finally sure I had gotten everything. I tied the bags shut, and carried them to the garage, dropping them into the trashcans. On my way back inside, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out and saw that I had a text message from Trace. I’ll b there in 10 min. B ready. Ok. I replied right back and couldn’t help smiling. I dashed upstairs, and changed out of my pajamas, into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved sweater with an owl on it. I cut the tags off of my gifts from Avery and put them on as well. I spotted the heel bootie’s she had given me at the beginning of the school year and sat down on the end of the bed to put them on. I opened the door and was greeted with a low whistle. “Lookin’ nice,” Dylan, the brother closest in age to Avery, said. He towered above my small frame and his blonde hair waved on the ends. His eyes were the same shade of dark green as Avery’s. “Thanks,” I mumbled. “Where you goin’?” He asked, crossing his arms over his massive chest. All of Avery’s brothers were huge, tall and muscular. “Out,” I replied casually. It’s not like I owed him a lengthy explanation or anything. “Dylan!” Avery yelled up the steps. “Leave, Livie alone. She’s not going to suck your dick for you, so give it a rest!” “Avery!” I shrieked. “It’s true!” She hollered. With a quick glance at Dylan, I ran away from him, and down the steps before Avery could say anything else embarrassing. I met Avery in the foyer and she assessed my outfit. “I knew that would look good on you.” “I love it,” I did a little twirl and the ends of the coat flared around my knees. “I take it Trace is coming to get you,” she smiled and we started towards the garage. “Yeah,” I blushed. “Was I that obvious?” “No…you just smile differently when Trace is involved,” she opened the door that led to the garage and leaned inside to push the button that raised the garage door. “I’ll see you later…or maybe not,” she winked. I shook my head. “Thank you again for the coat and-” “You’re welcome, Livie,” she grinned. “I’m happy you love it so much.” She pulled me into a quick hug. I stepped outside and she closed the garage door behind me. Trace was pulling into the driveway and I scurried inside his car before the cold penetrated my coat. “Excited to see me?” He grinned crookedly at my speedy entrance. “I didn’t want to get cold,” I laughed. “Aw,” he put a hand to his chest, “and here I thought you were excited to see me. I’m hurt.” “Hmm,” I leaned over and kissed his stubbled cheek, “how can I make it up to you?” I whispered. His eyes met mine and the green had darkened to a mossy gray color. “I’m sure I can think of a few different ways.” “That sounds…” I paused, messing with him. “Exciting.” “Oh, it is,” he grinned and backed out of the driveway. “Where are we going?” I asked, looking at the snow-covered lawns. “My place,” he answered. “Unless you don’t-” “No, no, that’s fine,” I interjected. “Good,” he smiled and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel.

Christmas music played softly in the background, and the smell of hot chocolate permeated the air, along with the scent of freshly baked snickerdoodle cookies. Not only could Trace cook, but he could bake as well. Was there anything he couldn’t do?

“How many marshmallows do you want?” He asked from the kitchen. I sat on the couch and turned so I could watch him. “Are they mini’s?” “No, the big ones,” he looked up at me, and held the bag aloft, shaking it for emphasis. “Two, then,” I smiled. He fixed the hot chocolate in coffee mugs, and added the marshmallows, then carefully carried them to where I was. He placed them on the coffee table and winced. “They’re a little too hot.” Before he sat down, he went back to the kitchen, to grab the plate of cookies. He held the plate out to me and I took one of the cookies. It was cooked to perfection, and every bite was chewy, just the way I liked them. “You’re Betty Crocker,” I laughed. “It’s not like I made them from scratch or anything,” he defended, sitting down beside me so that the sides of our legs touched. “It’s not that difficult to heat up the oven and stick em’ in. You just have to watch them so they don’t burn.” “They’re delicious,” I finished off the first and reached for a second. “I’m glad you like them, but you haven’t tried my hot chocolate yet. Now, that I do make from scratch,” he grinned, a cookie crumb sitting on the corner of his mouth. I couldn’t help myself. I leaned over and licked it away. When I pulled back, his eyes were closed, and his Adam’s apple was bobbing. “That wasn’t nice,” he whispered and opened his eyes. The green was light and playful. He pounced on me and my second cookie fell to the floor as I squealed. He pressed me into the couch as he hovered above me. “Fair is fair,” he grinned, pinning my wrists to my sides as I squirmed against him. He bent and licked the side of my mouth in the same spot I had licked his. “Now we’re even,” he gazed down at me and pressed his hips into mine. “No, we’re not. I didn’t have any cookie crumbs on my mouth,” I panted. “I can fix that,” he folded both of my hands into one of his and lifted them above my head. With his free hand, he reached for a cookie. He broke a corner off of one and held it above my mouth, crushing it in his palm, and letting go so that the crumbs covered my mouth and cheeks. I’m pretty sure a few went down my shirt but I wasn’t telling him that. He appraised his handy work, and before I could come back with something snappy, he covered my mouth with his, sucking the crumbs away. My body responded and my mouth opened underneath his. I felt his tongue nudge its way inside and I welcomed it. He growled low in his throat and released my hands so his fingers delved into my hair. I grasped his ears in my hands, forcing him closer to me. “Olivia,” he gasped my name. “Don’t stop,” I begged, clutching at his shirt. He nodded, and sat up, hooking his thumbs through the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He tossed it behind him and then covered my body once more with his. My hands skated over the smooth hard muscles of his chest, and his hands skimmed under my shirt. He sat up, pulling me with him, and in record time, my shirt was off. “That’s better,” he grinned and kneaded my breasts. I moaned his name and pressed my face into the crook of his neck. I hugged my arms around his chest and kissed the edge of his chin. “Bed,” I gasped breathlessly. He stood, and grabbed my hand, leading me into his bedroom. He ripped the covers back and they pooled on the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed and yanked his boots off. I used the doorway for support and removed my shoes as well. I felt his eyes gliding over my body but I refused to blush. “Come here,” he crooned huskily. I stepped quietly across the room until I stood in front of him. He hooked his index fingers in each side of my jeans and tugged until I was straddling him. “That’s better,” he grinned and then kissed me. The taste of cookies still lingered but Trace’s own unique taste was more prominent. Our hands were everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He sucked at a spot on my neck and I cried out. “Please,” I begged. The ache that only he created inside me was growing stronger by the second. I

needed him to fill me. “Not yet,” he whispered, ghosting his lips along my collarbone. I shivered in response, and clung to his shoulders, my knees on either side of his hips. He kissed over the curves of my breasts and then released the snap holding my bra in place. I lifted my arms from his shoulders and let the bra fall away. He gently palmed them in his hands, and little mewling sounds escaped my lips, as I rubbed my hips against his. I felt his hardness pressing against me, and knew he was more than ready, but he insisted on taking it slow. “Olivia,” he warned, placing a kiss on my lips. “I want you,” I pleaded. “I know,” he whispered. “I want you too.” “Then, please-” “Not yet,” he repeated. What was he waiting for? Did he want me to come in my pants? If that was the case, I was pretty close. He gripped my hips and pushed me off so that I was standing in front of him once more. I cried out in protest, but he stood, and silenced the noises I was making with another kiss. He pulled his lips away and dropped to his knees. With a quick flick of his fingers, the button of my jeans popped, and he slid the zipper down slowly. He gazed up at me and placed a kiss on my stomach, then removed my jeans, kissing each part of my legs the fabric exposed. He helped me step out of them but left my panties on. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured into the darkened room. I had felt like a plain Jane before I met Trace, but he made me see that I was beautiful. When I was sure that he was only going to look up at me, and go no further, he made his move. He was still on his knees and grasped me around the hips, pulling me up until my legs were over his shoulders. Somehow, I ended up with my back against the wall, as he pushed my panties to the side and closed his mouth over my aching center. I cried out, grabbing at his hair. “Trace,” I pleaded for no reason. The sensations running through my body were more intense than the first time with Trace. Could it get better each time? It didn’t seem possible, but this was definitely better. His tongue lapped at me and I held a hand over my mouth to quiet my cries. His tongue flicked back and forth against my clit. “I’m coming,” I gasped breathlessly. I closed my eyes and my body shook. My hands grappled for anything to hold onto. When I opened my eyes, I found that I was on the bed, with no clue how I got there. I really hoped I hadn’t passed out. That would be embarrassing. I heard Trace opening the drawer on his night table along with the ripping sound of a foil packet. My body tightened in anticipation. “Ready?” he hovered above me and I felt him at my entrance. If I raised my hips just a little… “Yes,” I gasped. I was more than ready. He kissed me and lifted my hips, sliding all the way in, in one hard thrust. I cried out and he stilled. “Did I hurt you?” Worry filled his eyes. “No,” I tried to steady my breathing. “Just surprised me. It feels good. Keep going,” I encouraged. “Are you sure?” He pushed my hair off my forehead. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.” I nodded. He moved his hips, slowly at first, and then gradually grew faster. Sweat dripped off his body and he gritted his teeth. I held onto his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist as my toes curled. He reached between us, and rubbed his thumb over my clit, sending me over the edge once more. I repeated his name as all other words left me. His fingers dug into my hips. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped. “I’m close.” He pumped faster and I felt my core tightening again. At the same time, we cried out each other’s names, and collapsed into a tangle of arms and legs.

He kissed the end of my nose tenderly, and pulled me against him so we were chest to chest, facing each other. “I think my couch is proving dangerous to us,” he chuckled. “That’s twice it’s led to us ending up in bed together.” I laughed too, trailing my finger down his chest. “I think I like your couch.” “It has its perks,” he kissed my forehead. “Our hot chocolate’s going to be cold now.” “How can you think about hot chocolate right now?” I giggled. “Because,” he rubbed his nose against mine, “it’s hot chocolate. The greatest drink on the planet. I mean, how can you go wrong with liquid chocolate?” “I can’t argue with that.” I circled a finger around the tattoo over his heart. “I’ll get it and bring it in here,” he stood, disposing of the condom, and pulled on his boxers. He grabbed a long sleeve plaid button down shirt from his dresser and threw it at me. “Here, put this on.” “Why?” I asked, sitting up, shrugging my shoulders into the shirt. The material was soft and warm. It smelled of Trace…like leather and mint, mixed with detergent. “If you keep laying around naked I won’t be able to control myself,” his eyes narrowed, “and I like to take my time with you…to savor every inch.” I shivered as I buttoned the shirt. “I’ll be right back,” he tapped the door on his way out. I scooted back on the bed and propped one of the pillows up so that my back wouldn’t be digging into the wood headboard. I heard the sound of the microwave whirling and the smell of hot chocolate infused the air once more. Before the microwave dinged, I heard him open it, and remove the cups. He came strolling into the room with the two mugs. He looked absolutely delicious with his hair mused and his boxers hanging low on his hips. I had thought Avery was crazy when she called guys delicious, but I understood now. “I tried not to get it too hot,” he handed me the black mug with the yellow Batman logo on it. He kept the bright green one that had Yoda on one side and said, ‘May the force be with you,’ on the other side. I took a hesitant sip. Despite what he had said, I was worried it would be scalding, but it was the perfect temperature. “This is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had,” I informed him with a smile, leaning back against the pillows. “I don’t normally like it, but this is really yummy.” He gasped, stretching his legs out in front of him. “First ketchup and now hot chocolate! I don’t think I can date you anymore.” “First off, I said this was good,” I pointed to the mug in my right hand, “and secondly, ketchup is disgusting.” “Don’t say that. Ketchup is delicious,” he grinned over the rim of his mug. I pretended to gag. “It’s so nasty.” “How can you be American and not like ketchup? It doesn’t add up,” he shook his head. I took a sip of the steaming liquid. “I just don’t. Do you like everything you eat?” “No, but it’s ketchup! It’s impossible not to love,” he exclaimed dramatically. “You do realize that we’re two adults, sitting here, arguing about ketchup,” I eyed him. “But it’s ketchup!” He repeated. “It deserves to be argued for its tomatoey goodness!” “Tomatoey isn’t even a word,” I laughed. “Well, it should be,” he huffed, shaking his head back and forth. “Especially when used in the defense of ketchup.” We finished our hot chocolate and Trace insisted on cleaning the mugs while I lounged in bed. I wanted to help, but he refused. Trace was stubborn like that. I stretched out in his bed, suddenly feeling tired, even though it couldn’t be later than six o’ clock in the evening. Trace came back into the bedroom and rummaged through his top drawer. He pulled out a small white box and sat down on the bed beside me, stretching his long legs out. “I got you something,” he whispered softly. “Trace, you didn’t-” “I know,” he put a finger over my lips. “It’s not for Christmas or anything. I saw it and it made me think of you. I had to buy it.”

I took the box from his outstretched hand, and pulled the lime green ribbon off, before lifting the lid. Inside, was a necklace with a delicate gold chain, and a small star charm that was no bigger than the nail on my pinky finger. “It’s so pretty,” I gasped, lifting it out of the box. I wasn’t one to wear jewelry…ever, but I would make an exception for this. “You really like it?” He seemed unsure. “Trace, I love it,” I clasped it in my hand, tightly; like I was afraid he might take it back. “Good,” he breathed out a sigh of relief. I glanced down at the necklace again. “Why a star? I love it, I do, but I’m just wondering.” “Because, you’re a star, Olivia. Even though you can’t see it, you are. You shine so brightly and captivate everyone with your light and brilliance. Also,” he grew bashful, a rare state for Trace, “it made me think of that night, on the picnic table, after you told me about your list, and we saw the shooting star,” he brushed his fingers along my chin. “I-I-” I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe he had put so much thought into a gift for me. “Thank you,” I finally gasped. “You’re welcome,” he kissed my cheek and I waited for a sexual innuendo or something snarky to come out of his mouth. But it didn’t happen. Trace was oddly serious…for the moment at least. I wouldn’t put it past him to begin arguing the virtues of ketchup again. I brushed my hair to the side of my neck and fumbled a few times with the clasp, since I wasn’t used to them, but I finally got it on. Trace fingered the necklace, purposely brushing my chest in the process. “Perfect,” he smiled at me. “By the way, you look really hot in my shirt, and it’s not helping me control myself.” “What should I do then?” I asked, playing along. His eyes darkened and he climbed on top of me, dragging me down the bed, so that I was flat on my back. “I think you should take it off,” he whispered huskily. “And I think you should take it off for me,” I played with the top button. “Is that so?” He raised a brow. I nodded. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Challenge accepted.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Trace whispered, skimming his fingers down my bare arm while I curled against his side. “Mhmm,” I murmured. “I know.” “Have any plans?” He asked casually. I pretended to think. “Not that I know of.” “I know it’s super last minute,” he trailed his fingers over my shoulder and collarbone, “but I was hoping you’d accompany me to my family’s party.” “Is it fancy?” I questioned. “Well, yeah,” he replied reluctantly. “How fancy?” I asked nervously. “Like, I’ll be in a tux, fancy,” he winced. “Trace!” I exclaimed, sitting straight up, bringing the sheet with me to hide my chest. “It’s not like I keep a ball gown stashed in my suitcase! Why didn’t you ask me sooner?” He grinned like a little boy and tucked his right arm behind his head. “Because I knew it would give you more time to think of an excuse not to go. I was going to ask you yesterday, but I got distracted,” he pulled the sheet from my feeble clutch. “How do you expect me to get ready for something this fancy on such short notice?” I growled angrily. He chuckled. “Your best friend comes in handy sometimes.” “Avery knew! How? That girl can’t keep a secret to save herself!” I cried. “Apparently, she can,” he smirked. “Ugh,” I groaned and flopped back on the bed dramatically. “She should be here soon, to help you get ready,” he slid from the bed and pulled on his boxers and jeans. He left the belt undone. “I hope you’re prepared for your apartment to be turned into a beauty salon,” I whined, covering my face with my hands. How did Trace expect me to be comfortable at some fancy New Year’s party? I would be completely out of my element, with a bunch of strangers, and I was one of the shyest people on the planet. I heard Trace pad across the room and then the bed dipped down beside me as he sat. He pulled my hands away and gazed down at me. “I’ll be by your side the whole night. I promise. You have nothing to worry about. I don’t want to go but I’m expected to be there. Excuse me for wanting my girlfriend with me.” I bit down on my lip. When he put it like that… “Okay. Fine. I’ll go and I’ll be happy about it,” I forced a smile. “You don’t look very happy,” he chuckled. “Maybe, I should-” He leaned down, kissing me thoroughly, and took my bottom lip lightly between his teeth. He placed smaller kisses along my neck and my

body arched into his. “Trace,” I gasped his name out in a small cry. His chuckle vibrated against my skin as he pulled the sheet completely off of me and moved lower. Then, someone had to go and knock on the stupid door. Trace cursed quietly, and climbed off of me, quickly covering my body with the sheet. He ran his fingers through his hair. “That has to be Avery. I’ll get the door while you get dressed,” he mumbled, striding from his bedroom. I slipped out of the bed and dressed in record speed. I was zipping my jeans when Avery busted into the room. “Good, you’re dressed,” she dropped a garment bag on the bed, along with what looked like a suitcase full of supplies. “I was afraid I might see a nipple or something.” “Then why would you come barging in here,” I snapped, mad that my best friend had known about this stupid extravagant party, and I had not. “It’s the excitement that drives me,” she winked, opening the suitcase, dropping hair supplies and makeup on the bed. “It smells like sex in here. Y’all weren’t gettin’ it on when I knockety knock knocked, were you?” She asked, pretending to knock the air. I rolled my eyes. “You were!” She gasped. “Olivia Owens! You naughty girl,” she smacked my side. I looked toward the doorway of the bedroom, for Trace, silently pleading for him to swoop in and save me from my best friend. “I sent lover boy away,” Avery cackled. “There’s no one here to save you.” “Ugh,” I groaned. “Come on,” Avery grabbed me by the shoulders, and pushed me out of the bedroom, and into the bathroom. “Shower time.” I half-expected her to strip me down, and force me inside the shower, but she didn’t. She simply smiled and closed the door. I knew I was in for it. I washed my hair, and scrubbed my body, until my skin was raw and pink. Frankly, I wasn’t trying to get super clean, I was stalling for time. When Avery started pounding on the door, I knew I had overstayed my welcome. I twisted the squeaky knob and the water shut off. I dried my body with one of the fluffy gray towels, and dried the ends of my hair as well, then redressed in what I was wearing earlier. Avery was raising her hand for another round of knocking when I opened the door. “‘Bout time,” she smirked. She grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the bedroom. “Sit,” she pointed to the bed. I grumbled but did as she said. She turned a blow dryer on and grabbed one of those huge round brushes with the spiky bristles. I cringed. Those things always hurt like hell when they touched your scalp. Avery used the blow dryer to aid in straightening my hair but since it couldn’t get rid of all my natural waves, she ended up having to use a flat iron as well. Once each strand of hair was straightened to perfection, she brushed it through, and started my makeup. “I’m going for a dramatic look here, so don’t freak out,” she warned. “Telling me not to freak out, instantly makes me freak out,” I grumbled. “Just go to your happy place, Livie. Think of rainbows, and butterflies, and unicorns…and,” she grinned wickedly, “fun times with Trace.” “I hate you so much right now,” I frowned. “You won’t hate me when you look so hot that Trace comes in his pants when he sees you,” she chortled. “Filter yourself, Avery. Filter.” “Eh,” she shrugged, rummaging through her ginormous makeup bag, “I think not. I prefer to say what I want to say, when I want to say it. Now close your eyes,” she warned. I whimpered, glaring at the makeup brush in her hand. “What color are you using?” “It’s plum, chillax. It matches your dress.”

I closed my eyes and kept my mouth shut while she worked. She finished my eyes and patted a light layer of concealer on my face. I felt her swipe a streak of blush across my cheeks and prayed that I didn’t look like a clown. “Pucker up,” she warned and I felt lipstick touch my lips. She wiped the excess off and said, “Open your eyes.” She held a mirror in front of me and I gasped in surprise at my reflection. I looked like an actress ready for her red carpet appearance. My hair and make-up was flawless. All I was missing was the dress. “Wow,” I gasped. “I look-” “Drop dead gorgeous,” Avery inserted. “I think I should’ve been a cosmetologist.” “I-I-” I stuttered. “I’m still waiting for a, ‘thank you, Avery,’” she smirked, with a hand on her hip. “Thank you, Avery,” I replied mechanically, fingering my straight hair. “You’re welcome,” she did a little twirl and began gathering up her stuff. “Oh! I almost forgot. Wanna see your dress?” I nodded. Grinning, she unzipped the garment bag. I watched with wide eyes as she pulled out the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. It was floor-length with cap sleeves and the rich plum color was beautiful. It cinched in at the waist, with jeweled detailing, that surprisingly, didn’t take away from the beauty. “That’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen,” I gasped. “Is it yours?” She nodded. “I got it for an event I had to attend with my parents. I only wore it once.” I fingered the silky fabric. When it moved, it shimmered in the light. “Are you sure I can wear it?” I asked. “Of course,” she laughed. The door to the apartment opened and Trace called out. “We’re in here!” I hollered. He appeared in the doorway and his eyes widened when he saw me. “You look beautiful, Olivia.” “You haven’t seen her in the dress yet,” Avery smirked. Trace stalked forward and wrapped a hand around my waist. “I don’t think the dress will make a difference,” he replied. “I still think you’re the most beautiful, with no makeup, and walking around my apartment in my shirts,” he whispered in my ear. I blushed and he moved to kiss me, but was cut off by Avery stepping between us, and pushing his chest. “Nuh uh! I’m not letting you ruin all my hard work!” She warned. “Alright, alright,” he grumbled. “I need to get ready anyway.” He moved around Avery and opened his closet door. He pulled out a tux and started for the door. “I’m guessing you didn’t rent that,” I laughed and he stopped in the doorway. “No,” he chuckled. “This is mine.” “You go to these fancy parties all time, don’t you?” I questioned. “Maybe,” he winked and left the room. A moment later, I heard the bathroom door close. “What time is it?” I asked Avery. She glanced at her phone. “Six o’clock.” I guffawed. “You mean, you’ve been playing beauty stylist all day, and I didn’t even notice?” “Um, yeah,” she smirked. “I’ve got major skills.” My stomach rumbled with the reminder that I hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch or dinner. I headed for the kitchen and Avery trailed behind me. I opened the refrigerator and a freakin’ monkey jumped on my back. “Avery,” I groaned, trying to dislodge her. “Get off.” “No! Not a morsel of food shall pass through your lips and ruin my creation!” She tightened her hold on my neck. Dear Lord, the girl was going to choke me. “Ave-” I reached up and tried to pry her arms from my neck. “Let go,” I gasped. “Never!” “You’re choking me,” I gurgled, digging my fingernails into her arms.

“Sorry,” she loosened her hold but still didn’t let go. “Avery, I’m hungry! Let me eat something! You’ll only have to fix my lipstick!” I pleaded. “Fine,” she dropped to the ground. “Eat. Ruin all my hard work. See how much I care,” she pouted, sticking her nose in the air. “Thanks for caring that I’m hungry, Avery,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry,” she frowned. “I’m being really insensitive.” “Ya think?” I raised a brow incredulously. She grew quiet while I made a bowl of cereal. I sat down on the couch with my bowl of Fruity Pebbles, and Avery sat beside me, chatting excitedly about her plans for the night with Luca. I tuned her out when she mentioned an edible bra and panties. I finished my cereal, and cleaned the bowl, reluctantly letting Avery drag me into the bedroom to get in the dress. She pulled it out of the bag, and I stripped out of my clothes, letting her help me into it. She zipped it in the back and appraised me. “Looking good, girl,” she turned around and grabbed a pair of black heels off the bed. “But these will make you a showstopper.” I sat down on the bed and slipped the shoes on. “Oh, yeah,” Avery nodded. “My work here is complete.” She hugged me and stepped back. “I feel so proud,” she pretended to wipe away a tear. “Oh, and here’s a clutch,” she grabbed a sequined black clutch out of her never-ending bag of supplies. The girl thought of everything. The bathroom door opened, and a moment later, Trace stepped inside the bedroom. We both stood staring at one another. Trace looked impeccable in his smooth black tux. His hair was brushed back from his eyes and his normally stubbled cheeks were shaved clean. He looked nothing like the scruffy fun loving mechanic I was used to, and looked exactly like the billionaire grandson he was. “I thought you were beautiful before, but damn…that dress,” he shook his head. “Thanks,” I squeaked, still shocked by his transformation. “You look good too.” You look good too? That’s the best you could come up with, Olivia. You’re pathetic. “I mean-” He chuckled. “I know.” “Come here,” Avery grabbed us both by the elbows and forced us side by side so she could evaluate us together. She tapped her index finger against her lips and smiled. “You two make one sexy couple.” “Avery,” I groaned. “What? I’m just being honest,” she smacked my butt and started packing up her stuff. Trace ventured out into the living room area and I was left alone with Avery once more. As she gathered up her various items, she rambled, “I know you’re really nervous, but don’t be. Enjoy tonight and don’t overthink it. Okay?” “Okay,” I agreed to shut her up. I knew it would be impossible for me to relax. “Good,” she smiled, and slung her bag across her shoulders, leaving the garment bag behind. “I’m sure you’ll be playing doctor with Tracey-poo later, so I’ll just leave that.” She didn’t give me a chance to complain about her comment. She hugged me quickly, whispered, “Good luck,” in my ear and headed out the door. The door had barely clicked closed behind her when Trace announced that it was time for us to go. He held my hand as we descended the steps, while I silently prayed I didn’t fall, and cut my head open. He stopped when we reached the bottom step, instead of rounding the corner, and heading toward his car. I looked up, away from my feet, and gasped. “A limo? We’re going in a freakin’ limo,” I mumbled. “Of course,” he smiled crookedly as the driver held the door open. Trace helped me inside and slid in beside me. “Unfreakinbelivable,” I gazed around the limo. I had never been inside one before, and found myself mesmerized by the many seats, and the ceiling that glowed with small lights meant to look like the night sky.

Trace straightened his tux jacket, and sat back, holding my right hand tightly in his. After I had committed every piece of the limo to memory, I relaxed. My nerves were beginning to bubble to the surface again and I took deep breaths so I didn’t get sick. “Calm down,” Trace smoothed a thumb over my hand. “Everything will be fine. It’s just a little party.” I snorted. I doubted this was just a little party. My suspicions were confirmed, when the house came into view, along with a gazillion limos and town cars. The circular driveway in front of the house, which I hadn’t noticed before, since it was hidden with snow, was filled with limos and cars pulled up to let guests out. Our driver pulled up to the front and opened the door for us. Trace slipped outside and held his hand inside the limo to help me out. He drew me tightly against his side and nodded at the driver before walking inside the open double doors. We followed the other guests to the massive ballroom. The tables and chairs that had been stacked against the walls the last time I was here, were now set up with white tablecloths covering them, and white slipcovers over the chairs. A large area in the middle was cleared for dancing, which many people were taking advantage of, and a band played on the corner stage. People that weren’t dancing, were either sitting, or walking around mingling. “Thank God you’re here,” a voice said from behind us and we turned around to come face to face with Trent. “If one more person asks me about the holes in my ears I’m going to blow up.” Trace laughed. “Guess you shouldn’t have gotten the gauges.” “You have tattoos!” Trent cried. “So do you,” Trace shrugged. “Just ignore these people,” he indicated the whole room. “Ugh,” Trent groaned. “I’ll try. But mom wants me to ‘be nice’ and ‘make connections,’” he held his hands up in air quotes. “Whatever the fuck that means. I’d rather be in my room. There aren’t even any hot girls here. Just stuffy old people with no sense of humor.” “I feel you, man. But we have to do what we have to do,” Trace shrugged. “Whatever,” Trent cracked his neck. “I hope you two don’t mind company, because I’m about to be a fucking leech and latch on, and never let go.” “I don’t mind,” Trace shrugged. “Olivia?” “I don’t care,” I smiled at Trace’s younger brother. “Thanks,” Trent grinned and stood on my other side. I felt even shorter than usual, despite the heels I was wearing, standing next to the Wentworth brothers. A waiter with a tray of food passed us and my stomach rumbled. The cereal I ate earlier had done little to quench my appetite. I eyed the food longingly and Trace chuckled. “Hungry?” “Starving,” I bit my lip. Trace sought an empty table, and pulled out a chair for me, taking the seat to my right, while Trent took the one to my left. We hadn’t been seated for long, when a waiter appeared with menus in hand, and glasses of water and champagne. We each scanned the menu and made our choice out of the three options. I opted for the steak since it seemed like the safest option. I took a sip of the champagne and gagged. The bubbly liquid tasted disgusting. I couldn’t figure out exactly what the flavor was, I just knew I hated it. Trace and Trent got quite the chuckle out of my reaction. Neither of them seemed to mind the overly bubbly liquid, but it wasn’t passing through my lips ever again, that was for sure. What felt like an eternity later, our food was brought out. I ate it like someone was going to come steal my plate before I had the chance to finish. “Slow down,” Trace chortled, “you’re going to choke yourself.” “At least if she chokes herself the party will end early,” Trent mumbled. Trace glared at his brother. “Thanks for your concern.” “Hey,” Trent put his hands up in defense, “the sooner these stuffy old farts get out of my house, the

sooner I can get the fuck out of here, and to the real party.” An older man glared at Trent as he passed. “Yes, Melvin, you’re one of the stuffy old farts I was talking about,” Trent added loudly to the older man. The man, Melvin I assumed, shook his head and shuffled away. “At least there will be fireworks at midnight,” Trent took a bite of asparagus. “That’ll be fun.” “Hey boys,” I heard Trace’s mom, and turned to find Lily striding towards us, from a few feet away. “Olivia,” she added, smiling at me. “Hi,” I waved awkwardly. “Mom,” Trace grinned. Lily stopped beside Trent’s chair and glared at her youngest son. “Melvin Cross just came up to me and-” “I’m out of here,” Trent jumped up from his chair and ran away. Exasperated, Lily threw her hands in the air, and scurried after him. Trace looked at his fancy silver watch. “All this excitement and it’s already nine o’ clock. What’s next?”

“I thought you couldn’t dance,” I pouted as Trace led me across the dance floor. “I can’t. Not really. But I can act like I know what I’m doing,” he grinned down at me as my dress swirled around my feet. I tried to mimic the way other people were dancing, but I wasn’t exactly the most coordinated person on the word, and Trace wasn’t very good at leading. Finally, I gave up, resting my head on his shoulder. Golden lights sparkled around us, illuminating the room in warm glow. I felt Trace’s lips brush against my forehead, and I smiled, the innocent gesture warming my heart. The first song bled into the second and third and so on. My feet were starting to get tired and I asked Trace if we could take a break. “Sure thing,” he smiled, and started to guide me back to our table, with a hand on my waist. “Trace Wentworth, funny running into you here,” a twinkling female voice stopped us in our tracks. “Fuck,” Trace whispered under his breath, low enough that I, and the girl behind us, were the only ones who heard. Trace’s hand flexed against my waist and his jaw tightened as he turned around slowly. “Aubrey,” he ground out. “This is my family’s home. I’m supposed to be here. You are not.” Aubrey...Aubrey…Aubrey. Where had I heard that name? Oh my God. I gasped aloud. Trace’s ex. The petite blonde girl glared daggers at me with her dark blue eyes. She was pretty, as in model pretty, with slim features and body, and fair, blemish free skin. She wore a strapless pale pink dress that hung straight down her narrow body. Her light blonde hair was pulled back in a low bun and a few pieces framed her pretty face. I had never seen a person that looked so flawless. Her pale pink lips were pouted and fake tears watered her eyes. “Just because we broke up doesn’t mean you need to shut me out of your life,” her lower lip trembled for emphasis. “Aubrey-” “I’ve been a part of your life since we were children, Trace. I spent as much time here, as you spent at my house. We shouldn’t shut each other out. I miss you,” she reached for his hand and he recoiled. Anger flared in her eyes. “I still love you, baby,” she tried to grab his arm, but he stepped back, dragging me with him. “That’s a lie,” he pointed a finger in her face, “and even if it wasn’t, I don’t love you.” “You’re lying,” her navy blue eyes narrowed. Her gaze flicked my way. “You think this white trash bitch is better than me? It’s clear she’s not from money,” My mouth gaped open at her words. She looked me up and down, a sneer marring her pretty face. “She can’t understand you the way I do.”

She grabbed his tux jacket, but Trace shook her off as easily as if she was a pesky fly. “If you were a guy I would punch you in the face for what you said about Olivia-” “It has a name?” She batted her eyelashes innocently. I flinched at her tone. “You’re asking for it Aubrey,” Trace warned. “I will have you escorted off of my property, no questions asked, if you keep this up.” She opened her mouth but he cut her off. “I don’t give a fuck who your daddy is, Aubrey, you are nothing.” A fire burned behind her eyes. “I am nothing? You sure didn’t think I was nothing when you dated me. You talked about marrying me and having kids with me,” she pointed at her bony chest. “What changed? Did your dad dying mess you up that bad that you’re willing to settle for her?” She stabbed a manicured finger in my direction. “People grow up, Aubrey. They grow up and they outgrow each other. We weren’t right together. Surely, you can see that,” Trace reasoned. “And I am not settling with Olivia. I would be settling if I was still with you. Last names aren’t everything, Aubrey, and I know that’s the only reason you wanted me. So shut the fuck up and stop acting like I meant everything to you, because I didn’t. I was nothing but a means for you climb up the mother-fucking social ladder!” He yelled. “You did! I loved you! I still love you! This bitch isn’t your future, Trace! I am!” She squealed shrilly. By now, we had drawn quite the crowd. I felt Trent step up beside me. “Oh, fuck, this isn’t good,” he whispered. “If you make one more comment about Olivia, you will be escorted from this house, and you won’t be coming back,” he warned. “I don’t care how much money your daddy throws our way,” Trace seethed. Aubrey’s nostrils flared and her lips pursed. Her tiny hands were fisted at her sides as she glared at the three of us. “Fine,” she sighed. “Whatever. I’m not done with you, though,” she pointed a finger in Trace’s face. “Do not think this conversation is over. As soon as your pound puppy is out of the way, we’re talking.” “No, we’re not,” Trace snapped. “We were done talking years ago. Come on,” he released his hold on my waist and grabbed my hand. We melted out of the crowd and Trent followed. Adrenaline was fading from my body and being replaced by sadness. Aubrey may have been a bitch, but Trace belonged with someone like her, not me. Someone beautiful and from the same lifestyle, someone with money, and status, someone that he grew up with. I was none of those things. “Who invited the fucking ice queen?” Trent asked when we stepped outside the ballroom and around the corner. “I have no clue,” Trace snapped angrily, running his fingers through his hair. “Mom, Gramps, and Grammy wouldn’t do that to me. She had to tag along with her parents or someone else.” He released my hand so he could punch the wall. When he calmed down some, he turned to me, “I’m so sorry, Olivia. I would’ve never brought you here if I knew she was going to be here. She’s a bitch and I never wanted you to have to know-” “Know what?” My lip trembled as I fought back tears. “Know that you loved someone as cold-hearted as that? Know that you belong with someone like her? Someone with money and status? I have none of that. I can’t give you what you need. I’m sorry,” I sobbed, backing away from him and his brother. “Olivia!” He called after me as I ran, but I didn’t look back. I had to get away before my emotions got the best of me.

I found the staircase leading to the basement and ran down them. I had ditched my shoes a few minutes ago and carried them in my hands. I picked a door to a room I knew I had never been shown, hoping that would give me more time to get my emotions in check, since I knew Trace would look for me in all the rooms I had toured. “Holy shit,” I gasped as the door closed behind me. I looked around, dazed. “Of course,” I muttered, inhaling the scent of chlorine. “They would have an indoor pool.” The floors were made of some kind of pebbles and three of the four walls were solid glass windows. The night sky reflected into the room and the full moon lit it. I dropped my heels and they clattered to the ground. I pulled the dress up to my thighs, and sat at the edge of the pool, dangling my legs into the heated

water. I took deep breaths to quiet my sobs. I don’t know why I had freaked out so bad. I’d like to blame it on being a girl and stupid insecurities. I had already felt uncomfortable and Aubrey had made me feel even more out of my element. I didn’t belong here, while she did. She fit in with these people. She was gorgeous and from a rich family like Trace. I would never, no matter what, fit in with these people. When Trace had shown me around and introduced me to people, I had let him do all the talking. I wasn’t good around strangers, never had been, add in the lifestyle difference, and I was a fish out of water. I didn’t know how to talk or act around them. Did they have a book titled, Talking to Rich People for Dummies? If it existed, I needed it. I sighed and kicked my feet through the water, watching the bubbles I created float to the surface and disappear. I wiped at my cheeks and my hand came away black. I sighed again. There went all of Avery’s hard work. I reached down and used the pool water to clean my hand. I stood and went in search of a towel. I opened several different cabinets, full of various pool related items, before I finally located the towels. I wiped my face clean of the smeared makeup, and tossed the soiled towel in the hamper beside a bathroom. Still sniffling slightly, I made my way back to the spot I had been sitting in before, dipping my legs back into the warm water. It seemed weird to be sitting with my feet in pool water when there was snow flurrying outside. My tears finally stopped and my hiccups quieted. I continued to kick the water and watch the ripples while biting on my fingernails. The door behind me opened, and I turned slowly, praying it was Cecilia or anyone I didn’t really know. “Hey,” Trace said nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets. He had ditched his tux jacket and his hair was mused with the many times he had run his fingers through it. “Hi,” I turned away and stared down into the blue depths of the water. “I’ve been looking for you,” he murmured and his dress shoes clacked against the pebbled floor. “I was getting worried.” “Well,” I spread my arms, “here I am.” “You mean everything to me, Olivia. Everything,” he pleaded. “These people and their money, means nothing,” he growled, spreading his arms. “Why would you think I wanted to be with someone like that?” He tilted his head, studying me intensely. “Because,” I kicked the water and it sprayed up, covering me in droplets, “you deserve to have someone like you.” “You are someone like me!” He exclaimed, pointing a finger at me. “Why can’t you see that?” He gripped his hair. “I have never fit into this crowd, neither has my brother, and neither did my dad. I was born into this family, I didn’t choose it,” he jabbed his chest. “But I did choose to be normal. I chose to become a mechanic and live on my own in an apartment that I pay for. I chose to pullover that night in October and help a girl change her tire, and dammit if that wasn’t the best fucking decision I ever made,” his green eyes were fierce. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Olivia,” I heard him pace behind me, “especially with Aubrey and I vowed to myself to never make those same mistakes with you.” I heard the sounds of him pulling his shoes and socks off, and a moment later, he was sitting beside me, forcing me to look at him with a finger held to my chin. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?” He asked. “Why are you fighting this?” “I don’t want to get hurt,” I whispered, biting my lip, and gazing at the ground. “You look hurt to me,” he rubbed under my eyes, where I knew they were red and puffy, “and I’m hurt. Do you like hurting me, Olivia?” “No!” I exclaimed fiercely. “Of course not!” “Then please, stop fighting what we have. I can feel you pulling away from me. I’ve felt it ever since you found out about my family and that’s the last thing I want. I didn’t tell you, because this,” he indicated the house, “isn’t important. Who I am and who you are, that’s what’s important. Everything else is just…details. You know the real me, Olivia. This,” he plucked at his dress shirt and grinned, “is me playing dress up.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “I like your plaid shirts better.”

“I knew it!” He grinned cockily. “It was the plaid shirts that drew you to me.” “What can I say?” I smiled. “I have a thing for lumberjacks.” Trace threw his head back with laughter. “Lumberjacks,” he chuckled. Sobering, he gazed at me for a moment, and asked, “So, are we good?” “We’re good,” I nodded with a smile. “No more running away and freaking out?” His eyes sparkled with laughter. “No more running away and freaking out,” I repeated. “I promise.” “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he leaned towards me and pressed his soft lips to mine. I was unaccustomed to the feel of his smooth cheeks and instantly missed the stubbled ones I’d come to love. His tongue flicked against the crease of my lips and my mouth opened underneath his skillful caress. He gripped the back of my skull and pressed me against him. The kiss went on for minutes and our temperature rose. Trace pulled away first, his chest rising and falling heavily. “We’re already here, we might as well…” He trailed off as he stood. “Huh?” I asked, my brain foggy. He began unbuttoning his dress shirt. “Skinny-dipping, Olivia,” he smiled crookedly. “What if someone comes down here?!” I hissed as his spectacular chest came into view. “That’s part of the thrill,” he let the shirt fall and started on his pants. I took a deep breath and stood. “Fine, but you’re going to have to unzip me.” His pants fell to the ground and he was left in a pair of black boxer briefs. “I’m glad you’re not arguing so much this time.” “Yeah, well,” I shrugged. “I’m trying to be spontaneous.” “And you’re doing very well,” he winked as I pointed to the zipper. He pulled it down in one smooth motion—if only it had went up that smoothly—and the plum colored dress fell around my feet. “Want help with those?” He grinned, with a wicked glint in his eyes, and pointed at my bra and panties. “No, I can manage on my own,” I said with more confidence than I felt. It was silly, Trace had seen me naked plenty of times, but I was still nervous. “Suit yourself,” he shrugged, and yanked his boxers down, diving into the pool in one smooth move. “Show off,” I muttered. He came sputtering to the surface in the middle of the large pool. He shook his head and droplets of water went flying from his hair. “Hurry up, slowpoke!” He taunted. I’ll show him slow. Despite my nerves, I wanted to have some fun with him, and knew exactly how to do it. I eased my panties slowly down my hips and back up. His desire filled groan echoed around the room. I lowered the panties again and let them fall to the ground this time. Keeping my eyes locked securely on his, I unsnapped my bra and then caught the cups, pulling it away slowly from my body, letting my hair fall forward to hide my breasts. Blushing, I let the bra fall from my arms. Before I could talk myself out of it, I took a deep breath, and jumped into the pool. With closed eyes, I swam for the surface. I had just sucked in a lung full of air and was wiping the water from my eyes, when Trace’s arm wrapped around my stomach, pulling me against his body. “Trace!” I squealed, kicking wildly. “You’re such a little tease,” he whispered huskily in my ear. “That wasn’t fair.” He turned me around so that we were chest to chest. His hard-on pressed against my belly and a fire began to spread through my body. My hands wound around his neck and I watched water droplets make their way down his handsome face. “What wasn’t fair?” I gasped. “You,” he ran a finger over my collarbone as we treaded water, “teasing me. I can only take so much.”

“You’re fun to tease,” I smiled, brushing a wet strand of hair from my eyes. “Is that so?” He raised a brow. “Maybe…I should tease you a bit?” I shivered at the promising tone in his voice. “Teasing could be fun.” “I’m about to show you just how much fun,” his eyes narrowed in determination, a thin slit of green showing through. With a firm grip on my waist, he dragged me through the water, and into the shallow end. He stopped when we both could stand and licked his lips in thought. “Come here,” he grabbed my hand. I followed him over to the steps. “Sit down,” he commanded. I did, turned on by his bossiness. He hovered above me, and his mouth descended on mine. At the same time his fingers came into contact with my aching core. I cried out, and he used that to his advantage, snaking his tongue inside my mouth. His finger and tongue pumped in and out of me in sync. My breathing accelerated as my body built towards my orgasm, but when he sensed that I was about to go over the edge, he backed off, slowing the speed. I mewled in protest and he chuckled. The speed of his finger increased and his tongue plunged into my mouth at the same speed. Faster, faster, faster. I was so close but he was slowing down again. He kept the pace slower this time and after a few minutes, my orgasm was in sight, but then he stopped all together. “Trace!” I cried out. “Please!” “This is called, teasing, baby,” he chuckled warmly. My eyes were closed but they fluttered open to glare at him. “This is torture.” “I don’t think people enjoy torture, and baby, I know you’re enjoying this,” he winked and ducked his head under water. I thought he was swimming away, but instead his hands clamped down on my thighs, holding me in place, as his mouth closed around my clit…under water. What was he? A freakin’ merman? He came up for air and went right back down. Something about the water swishing around me, mixed with his tongue sliding up and down my folds, had me reaching an orgasm quicker than usual. He came up for air again and I lost that peak. At this point, I was on the verge of tears. I wanted my orgasm, dammit! Trace shook the water from his hair. “No more teasing, I promise. But you’re not coming until I’m buried inside you, and can hear you scream my name.” I whimpered at his words. He picked me up and my legs automatically wrapped around his waist. He leaned his back against the side of the pool, and reached between us, guiding his cock inside me. We both moaned at the same time as he slid in all the way. He cupped my butt, and held me there, neither of us moving. “God, I was right, this is perfection,” he growled. I’d agree but I couldn’t open my mouth to find the words to voice it. “I have to move, baby,” he warned before he slid out a little, and back in, the water causing more friction than usual. I clung to his shoulders and rested my head on his chest. Our labored breaths filled the cavernous room and my hips rolled against his thrusts. I was finally near my orgasm, one he wasn’t going to steal from me, when I leaned back and opened my eyes. Over Trace’s shoulder, and through the glass on the door, my eyes connected with a deep pair of blue ones. They were narrowed in anger as they watched us shrewdly. I was too far-gone in a pleasureinduced coma to care, but I knew I would be pissed later that Aubrey was watching us. Couldn’t the bitch go away? I tore my gaze from hers, and kissed Trace, cupping his cheeks in my hands. His tongue flicked against mine and I gasped in pleasure as he nudged a sensitive spot inside me. “Trace!” I screamed out his name and my hands dropped from his cheeks to his shoulders. My orgasm

tore through me and my whole body shook. He kept a firm grip on my hips as I shook. When he was sure that I was able to stand, he set me down on my feet, and slipped out of me. He pumped his length with his hand and growled as he came into his palm. I watched, fascinated. When he was spent, his arms circled around me, and he kissed me deeply, leaning me back so that the ends of my hair skimmed the surface of the water. Both of our chests were rising and falling from the exertion as we clung to one another. “I think I like pool sex,” I whispered. Trace’s chuckle vibrated my body. “I like any kind of sex with you. In fact, I like everything with you, not just the really great sex.” “Good to know,” I laughed. A boom sounded outside, and I turned in his arms to look out the wall of windows, where I saw fireworks going off. Red, green, blue, purple, and silver. They were beautiful the way they lit up the night sky with their colorful sparks. I had never seen fireworks in person before, only on TV, once or twice. I found myself smiling as we watched them When they ended, we were still in the water, in each other’s arms. Trace gazed down at me, his green eyes full of an emotion I couldn’t decipher. “Happy New Year’s, Olivia. Here’s to a new year, and new adventures, together,” he murmured and kissed me.

School started back up which meant Avery and I were back in the dorms. The Callahan’s promised that my mom wasn’t a bother and could stay as long as she needed. In fact, Resa and my mom, had grown quite close, and Resa was helping her to find a job. Nick, thankfully, had to go back to Virginia Tech, so I didn’t have to worry about him hitting on my mom anymore. I didn’t tell my mom, but I still worried that Aaron might show up. He was a bully…but a wimp at the same time, so he probably wouldn’t, but I also knew, he wasn’t the kind of person you should underestimate. He had nothing to lose, while we had everything. I guess I was of the mentality that all good things must come to an end. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but… “Where are we going?” I asked Trace, holding tightly to his hand, as we ran down the sidewalk of the old walking mall. I forced my worried thoughts from my mind. I needed to have fun. My braid thumped against my shoulder and snow flurried around us. The late January weather in Virginia was unpredictable. Some days were warmer, with temperatures in the fifties. While other days, like today, were cold enough for snow. “I promise, it has nothing to do with your list,” he called over his shoulder, dragging me along. I released his hand and stopped in my tracks. He turned around and jogged towards me. “What are you looking at?” He tilted his head as he looked at me. I pointed to the store window, where there was a red shirt displayed that said, I Love Ketchup. “I’m buying that for you,” I declared, heading straight into the store, not caring if he followed. Trace grumbled about us being late, but I didn’t care. I grabbed the shirt and paid for it. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve taken the time to look around, but since Trace was on a time constraint to get…wherever it was he needed to be, I didn’t. “Put it on,” I handed him the bag. “Olivia,” he groaned, looking around the store at the people browsing. “Trace,” I eyed him sternly. “You’re always pushing me out of my comfort zone. Put. On. The. Shirt.” A challenge ignited in his green eyes. “Fine,” he grinned cockily. He removed his jacket and long-sleeved plaid shirt. Then, with a giant smirk, he pulled his black V-neck t-shirt over his head. “Hi,” he waved at the teenage girl working the cash register. The poor girl’s mouth was hanging open as she stared at Trace. Someone needed to get a mop, because the amount of drool she was producing could cause someone to slip. Trace took the bag from me and pulled out the bright red shirt. He ripped the tag off, and pulled the shirt on, tugging it down so that it covered his tightly sculpted abs. “Happy now?” He asked, turning so I could assess the shirt. “Ecstatic,” I smiled, putting the shirts he’d been wearing before, into the bag. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on. “Now that you’ve had your fun, we really have to go.”

“Red’s a good color on you,” I laughed as we walked out of the store. “Every color is a good color on me,” he chuckled. “Especially, when said shirt,” he plucked at the garment, “reflects my never-ending love of ketchup.” I shook my head, laughing under my breath at him. “Ah, here we are,” Trace held the door to a coffee shop open for me. The sign hanging above the door was in the shape of a coffee cup and declared the place as Griffin’s . “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I questioned, looking around at the crowd gathered. “Well,” he rocked on his heels, “Since classes started back up, you’ve been really busy, and I wanted us to do something fun.” “O-okay,” I hesitated as we made our way to a vacant table. People were gathered around something, but I couldn’t tell what it was. “And what exactly does this ‘fun’ entail?” He wet his lips and shifted in his seat. “I was hoping you would sing with me again.” “What?!” I gasped loudly, causing a few heads to turn in our direction. “No way! I was scared to death the first time, and that was karaoke, where most people suck, and they give you the lyrics.” “Calm down,” Trace pleaded. “If you really don’t want to, I’ll sing by myself, but I really hoped we could do it together,” he pouted. “Your voice is beautiful, Olivia,” his fingers brushed my chin. My breath was shaky, my palms sweating. I looked around at all the people, there were ten times more than had been at the restaurant when we sang karaoke, and most of those people had been drunk. These people, weren’t drunk, and they were here to listen to good music. I knew I had a decent voice, but I wasn’t confident enough to get up in front of a crowd this size. “I don’t know,” I frowned, my shyness making me wish I could disappear. “We’re supposed to sing in fifteen minutes,” he warned. “So, don’t think too long.” He paused, contemplating something. “I signed up for two songs…what if I do a solo, and then we do a duet, would that make you feel better?” I nodded. “Yeah, that makes me feel better.” Not much better, but a little better. “Great,” he beamed. I wished I felt as happy as he looked. His smile seemed glued onto his face from excitement while I was trying not to throw up. “What song are we singing?” I asked. He contemplated, seeming to run through a list in his head. “What about, If I Didn’t Have You, by Thompson Square? Do you know that song?” “Yeah, I know it,” I nodded, my nerves kicking up several notches. At least, if I made a fool of myself, I didn’t know any of these people. “Olivia! Trace!” Dammit. Scratch that, I did know two of these people. “What are you guys doing here?” Avery asked, snaking her way through the crowd to our table, with Luca at her heels. “We’re going to sing,” Trace announced proudly. Avery’s dark green eyes widened. “You’re going to sing?” She asked me. “Like on stage? In front of people?” “Yep,” my eyes shifted nervously away from hers. “What are you singing?” Luca asked Trace, pulling out a chair, and flipping it around backwards, before sitting. “On my own? I haven’t decided yet,” Trace shrugged. “I’ll figure it out when I get up there.” Luca’s eerie pale blue eyes zeroed in on Trace’s shirt. “What are you wearing?” Trace sat back and pulled the shirt away from his body. “This? Olivia bought it for me.” Avery snickered. “You bought him an ‘I Love Ketchup’ shirt?” “He has a strange obsession with the stuff,” I shrugged. “I thought everyone should know.” “Ketchup is delicious,” Trace licked his lips. He looked at the time on his phone and stood. “I better get up there,” he pointed to the stage. “You can wait here till I finish my first song,” he informed me. I watched him bleed into the crowd. “I can’t believe you’re going to get up there and sing,” Avery shook her head.

“Are you good or do you suck?” Luca asked me. Avery snorted and answered for me. “Olivia is amazing, but she’s too shy to sing in front of people. I caught her singing by accident.” “Hmm,” Luca hummed, adjusting his fedora to hide the scar on his forehead. I noticed, that for once, he wasn’t wearing a vest. It seemed weird, seeing him without one. It was like his vests were an extension of his laidback personality. “You look more like the type to draw or something.” I snorted. “I’m the least artistic person, ever. I can’t draw worth crap.” I had learned that the hard way when Trace took me for painting lessons. A finger tapping against the microphone ceased our conversation as we turned to face the stage. There were still people standing near the stage, but most people had taken a seat, so I had a clear shot of Trace sitting on a stool. Another guy sat in the corner, with a guitar in his lap, he scratched his stubbled chin, and flipped his wavy dark hair out of his blue eyes. My gaze quickly left the other guy and focused on Trace. He looked gorgeous sitting up there so casually. His dark brown hair was mused from running his fingers through it. “I’m going to sing, Only You’re the One, by Lifehouse. This one’s for Olivia,” he smirked in my direction. He motioned over his shoulder for the guy to start playing the guitar. I sat, riveted, as the lyrics poured over me, along with Trace’s raspy singing voice. “‘I’m with you when the lights go down. Take my hand I’m all yours now. I know you’re the only one that would never lead me on. I’m with you when the lights go down ‘cause you’re the one and…Only you’re the one and…’” I swallowed thickly as the words of the song registered in my brain. His green eyes never strayed from mine, as each word left his mouth, making their meaning more powerful. “Whoa,” Avery gasped when the song ended, clapping her hands mechanically. I clapped too, along with everyone else in the room, completely enamored with the man on stage that was mine completely. Trace bowed his head under the crowd’s praise. “Thank you everyone,” he grinned. “If y’all don’t mind, I’d like to sing another song, with my girlfriend.” He waved me up on stage. “Get up here, Olivia.” With red cheeks, I made my way up to the stage. An older man, who worked there, brought out another stool and microphone. “Thanks, Griff,” Trace said to the man. I sat on the stool and faced the large crowd. I took several deep breaths to calm myself but it wasn’t working. Trace’s hand entwined with mine and he gave it a light squeeze. My gaze slid from the crowd and connected with his green eyes. “You can do this, Olivia,” he assured me. “Forget about everyone else. It’s just me and you, baby.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat and whispered, “You and me.” He nodded, smiling reassuringly. Trace nodded to the guy on the guitar again. There was no turning back now. I gripped the microphone so tightly in my hand that my knuckles turned white. I took a deep breath and sang. “‘Sometimes it feels like, I’m gonna break. Sometimes this world, gives more than I can take. Sometimes, sunshine gets lost in the rain, and it keeps pouring down. It just keeps coming down.’” It didn’t escape my attention that Trace had chosen a duet that was mostly sang by a female. His voice mingled with mine on the chorus, and I was, once again, amazed by how well our voices blended together. My eyes never left his as we sang the chorus. “‘This life would kill me if I didn’t have you. I couldn’t live without you, baby, I wouldn’t want to. If you didn’t love me so much I’d never make it through ‘cause this life would kill me. This life would kill me if I didn’t have you.’” The more I sang, the more confident I became. So, before the song was over, I found myself singing less to Trace and more to the crowd. I still gripped his hand for support, but I didn’t feel as scared as I did at the beginning of the song. When the song ended, and the coffee shop erupted into applause, I found myself looking at the floor of the makeshift wood stage. Trace stood, pulling me up beside him.

“Thank you,” Trace waved to the crowd. “Thank you,” I mumbled bashfully, my earlier confidence completely drained. Trace handed his microphone to the next performer and I handed mine to a coffee shop worker. We hopped off the stage, hand in hand. Instead of returning straight to the table, Trace dragged me to the counter of the coffee shop. Trace waved at the older guy working behind the counter. It was the same man who had handed me the microphone. “Hey, Trace,” the man said in a gravely voice, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. “Griff, this is my girlfriend, Olivia. Olivia, meet Griff, the owner,” Trace introduced us. “It’s nice to meet you,” I smiled shyly at the older man. His gray hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and his light brown eyes were kind. “Nice to meet you too, doll,” he chuckled. He leaned his elbows on the counter and eyed Trace. “I haven’t seen you here in a while…a long while.” Trace cleared his throat. “I haven’t done much singing since high school. The place looks amazing,” Trace looked around. “You certainly didn’t have a stage when I performed here.” “Didn’t need one,” Griff shrugged. “But more and more people kept showing up every week, so something had to be done.” Smiling at me, he pointed to the open area. “There used to be a wall there, but I took it down to make room for the stage, and give more room for eating.” “So, you have more than coffee?” I asked. Griff nodded. “It started out with only coffee and grew from there,” he shrugged his wide shoulders. “I’ve gotta get back to work but let me know if y’all want anything.” “Thanks, Griff,” Trace waved and we melted back into the crowd. I had hardly taken my seat beside Avery when she tackled me into a hug. I was surprised we didn’t fall to the ground. “Girl,” she pulled away excitedly, “you were incredible!” “Thanks,” I played with the end of my braid. “Livie! Seriously! You have to start singing more! Your voice is so beautiful!” She flapped her arms excitedly. “Thank you,” I repeated, “but as sick as that made me feel, it won’t be happening again, anytime soon…it was fun though.” “Ugh! Olivia!” Avery exclaimed. “There’s no reason for you to get sick! You’re incredible!” I stared down at the table; uncomfortable with the attention I was receiving, not just from Avery, but also from the other people in the coffee shop. I felt their stares and my skin crawled. I glanced up and my eyes connected with Trace’s. He saw that I was uncomfortable and I pleaded with him to come to my rescue. He scooted his chair back and stood. “Sorry guys,” he said to Luca and Avery. “I just realized that I’ve got to get to work early in the morning.” Avery frowned at Trace’s words. “This guy needs his car by eleven. So, um, Olivia, I’ll drop you off at your dorm.” “Okay,” I silently thanked him with my eyes. “See ya, Avery. Luca.” I smiled at each of them and took Trace’s hand. We forced our way through the crowd and onto the cobblestone walkway. Snow flurries were still falling from the sky and darkness had descended. String lights were wrapped around the trunks of the trees. They twinkled merrily and I smiled at the sight. We walked, hand in hand, to his car. Trace opened the passenger door for me and I slid inside. He started up the car, and turned on the heat, but didn’t back out right away. “Are you mad at me?” He asked. “For what? Making me sing?” I questioned. He nodded. “No,” I answered. “Maybe at first. But I did enjoy it…until people started staring at me.” With a laugh, I added, “I’ve learned, though, that it’s impossible for me to stay mad at you.” “It’s ‘cause I’m sexy,” he winked. I laughed. “Especially in that shirt.” “Don’t disrespect the shirt,” he chuckled with a grin. “You bought it.” “I’m already regretting that decision,” I giggled as he backed out of the parking lot and headed towards campus.

“It’s my new favorite shirt,” he announced. “You mean,” I paused for dramatic affect, “you like it more than plaid?” I snorted. He tapped his chin. “Okay, maybe not. Nothing beats plaid. If plaid was a color, it’d be my favorite.” “You’re so weird,” I shook my head. “Most people find my weirdness charming,” he smirked. “I guess I’m not most people,” I shrugged, covering my laugh with a hand. We came to a stoplight, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “And that’s what I like the most about you.”

I took a deep breath as I strode across campus, my books clutched to my chest, as a heavy wind breezed by, almost knocking my hat off my head. With my free hand, I reached up to keep my hat in place, but I was too late. The fabric flew from my head and spun in the air. “Dammit!” I cursed, running after it, thankful I was wearing sneakers today. “I got it! I got it!” A male voice called and I watched a tan hand reach up in the air and grasp the dark blue fabric of my beanie. I slowed to a walk, and held my hand out for my hat, slowly looking up to meet the eyes of the guy. “Luca,” I gasped. “Hey,” he smiled, dropping the hat in my hand. “What are you doing here?” I asked, slipping my hat back on, rather crookedly, considering I only had one hand. “I’m waiting for Avery. We have reservations for Valentine’s Day,” he shrugged. “Oh, of course,” I shook my head. “Why else would you be here…wait, you said it’s Valentine’s Day?” “Well, yeah,” Luca looked at me perplexed. “I completely forgot,” I gasped, “crap.” I smacked my forehead. You’d think the red and pink hearts decorating stores, and even peppered around campus, would’ve tipped me off, but no, I was that dense apparently. I had been swamped lately with coursework, and life had been passing me by faster and faster. My time had been consumed with school, Trace, my mom, and hanging out with Avery when I had the time. “I know Trace hasn’t,” Luca fell into step beside me as I headed towards the dorm. He was dressed a little warmer today, with a long sleeved navy shirt underneath a gray-buttoned vest. His fedora sat crookedly on his head and the sandy brown strands of his hair escaped from underneath. “Shit,” I cursed, something I had been doing a lot of lately, “I am the worst girlfriend on the planet. No wonder Trace was adamant that we make plans for tonight. I kept trying to blow him off. I have a paper due on Monday and I need all the time I can get to finish it.” “You still have Saturday and Sunday,” Luca shrugged. “Yeah,” I agreed, “hopefully, that’ll be enough time,” I bit my lip. “Besides, I already gave in and told him I could go out tonight.” “It’ll all work out,” he clapped a hand on my shoulder. I was surprised by how talkative he was being. I had grown used to his caveman grunts and little to no words. Maybe, like me, Luca was shy and I needed to get to know him better, for him to open up. We reached the dorm and Avery was walking out of the double doors. She squealed when she saw Luca and ran into his arms, wrapping her legs around his lean waist, and kissing him deeply. I turned away, feeling like I was seeing something I wasn’t meant to see.

I heard him lower Avery to the ground and figured it was safe to look back. Avery was smiling brightly at me, her cheeks flushed, and her red lipstick slightly smeared. I pointed to a spot on my lips, indicating that she needed to wipe. “Oh,” she mumbled, and slid her thumb under her lip, to remove the smear. “Thanks.” “No problem,” I smiled. “We’re going out so I won’t be back, tonight,” she looked at Luca significantly. “I kinda figured that,” I chuckled, shrugging my shoulders to relieve some of the pressure from the backpack straps. I said goodbye to Avery and Luca and slowly trudged up to my dorm. I dropped my stuff on the bed, placing the various items where they needed to go, and showered. I dried my hair and let it hang down in its natural waves. I checked the time and knew Trace would be arriving in less than ten minutes. If I wasn’t outside waiting, he’d finagle his way into the dorms. I’m sure all he had to do, was bat his eyes at some unsuspecting female, and they’d do whatever he said. I dressed in clean clothes, but since I wasn’t sure what I should wear, I tried to dress up a little bit. I wore a pair of dark wash jeans, and a white button down shirt with a camel colored sweater over top. I ditched my sneakers for the heels Avery had given me, and my gold star necklace, which I never took off, completed the look. I looked at the time again, and grabbed my purse, dashing out of the dorm. Trace was pulling up in his ‘69 black Camaro when I pushed the doors open. I hopped inside the car before he had the chance to get out. “Happy to see me?” He grinned. “I’m always happy to see you,” I leaned over and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enthusiastic about plans for tonight. I completely forgot today was Valentine’s Day,” I admitted reluctantly. “I figured,” he smiled, his eyes a light and playful green. “You’ve been so busy with school.” “Hopefully, it’ll slow down soon,” I took a deep breath, still ashamed that I had forgotten my first Valentine’s with my boyfriend. “I don’t know if my brain can absorb any more information.” Trace frowned and lightly squeezed my thigh. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay,” I shrugged. “It’s school, it’s supposed to challenge you.” “I don’t like seeing you so stressed,” Trace replied, looking left and right, as he backed out of the parking space. “Everything will slow down soon,” I said, more for my benefit than his. “So,” I rubbed my palms on my jeans, “where are we headed?” “Well,” Trace winced, eyes on the road, “I know you like simple, and aren’t into the whole, extravagant lifestyle, so…” He paused. “I opted to make you dinner at my place. I thought you’d enjoy that more than going out.” I smiled, my first genuine smile in days. “You are amazing. That’s perfect.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I was kind of worried you’d be offended.” “Not at all,” my smile widened. “This is more special than getting dressed up and going to some uppity restaurant.” He reached for my hand and entwined our fingers together. “How did I get so lucky with you?” I snorted. “You didn’t.” “I beg to differ,” he grinned.

“Mmm,” I moaned, as Trace opened the door to his apartment, and the smell of a home cooked meal hit my nose. Garlic and rosemary were the most prominent scents and I inhaled them greedily, my stomach rumbling. “It smells delicious, Trace.” He closed and locked the door behind us. “I hope it tastes as good,” he led me into the small kitchen. “I made homemade garlic mashed potatoes, rolls, and asparagus. All I have left to do is grill the steak,” he pulled out marinating steaks from the refrigerator as he spoke. Tears pricked my eyes. This was the sweetest, most romantic thing, ever. I was sure of it. “This is great,” I murmured, at a loss for anything else to say.

“Are you sure?” He seemed hesitant. “We can still go out…if you want.” He nervously scratched the back of his head. “No,” I shook my head. “This, you, it’s perfect.” I bit down on my lip to hold back the floodgate of emotions that was about to spill forth. “Are you going to cry?” He raised a brow. “No,” I squeaked. “You totally are,” he wrapped his arms around me and cradled me against his chest. “I didn’t want to make you cry, baby.” “I’m sorry, I’m being such a girl,” I inhaled his masculine scent. “They’re happy tears, I promise. This is the sweetest thing ever,” my words were muffled by my face buried in his shirt. “Happy tears or sad tears, I didn’t mean for you to cry,” he combed his fingers through my hair. I pulled away from his embrace and wiped the dampness off my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I’m not normally so emotional but with all the stress I’ve had this is…this is wonderful,” I pointed to the various items he had cooked. He kissed the top of my head, his fingers grazing my hip. “Why don’t you go sit down and relax while I grill these steaks?” “Are you sure? I can help-” He silenced me with a kiss. “No, Olivia. Relax. Let me take care of you,” he rubbed his fingers lightly up my side and I shivered. The tone of his voice held the promise of being taken care of in many ways. “Okay,” I agreed. Reluctantly, I sat on the couch, feeling like a useless blob. A minute later, Trace brought me a glass of ice water. He observed my stiff posture and chuckled. “It doesn’t look like you’re relaxing.” “I feel like I should be doing something,” I mumbled. I hated being unproductive. “Nuh huh,” he shook his head and sat the glass of water on the makeshift crate coffee table. “No helping, only relaxing. Unless you want to get naked?” He suggested. “I wouldn’t mind that.” “I’m not getting naked,” I rolled my eyes. “Too bad,” he shrugged with a grin. His eyes were a light playful green. I squealed when he picked up my legs and lifted them onto the couch. He yanked my heels off and dropped them on the floor. He grabbed a flannel blanket off the back of the couch, and draped it over my body. A pillow was already cushioned under my head. He gazed down at me, appraising his handy work. “This is relaxing,” he smiled. “Now stay, Fido,” he chortled as he turned to head back into the kitchen. “Ha, ha, ha,” I faked. “You’re so funny.” “I am funny,” he turned back around and grinned cockily, “and smart, and handy, and insanely good looking,” he winked. “Conceited much?” I joked with a raised brow. “No, baby, just confident,” he chuckled and stepped into the kitchen. “I’ll be right back,” he called, opening the door. “The grill’s downstairs by the garage. Sometimes, the guys grill hotdogs for lunch.” “Alright,” I sighed. “I’ll be here,” I pointed to the couch, “relaxing.” “That’s my girl,” his laugh carried inside the apartment as the door closed behind him. A few minutes later, he returned, a gust of cold air blowing into the apartment behind him. He rubbed his hands together. “It’s fucking cold out there,” he shivered. “I swear, the temperature is dropping by the second.” I appraised his lightweight shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. “Maybe, like a normal person, you should wear a coat,” I suggested with a smirk. “It wasn’t that cold earlier!” He defended. “It’s February, Trace,” I rolled my eyes, “it’s cold.” “I can’t wait for spring,” he grumbled, making his way to the couch. He lifted my legs and sat down, placing them in his lap. “It’ll be at least thirty minutes on the steaks.” “Ah, yes, spring. Rainstorms and allergies galore, that’s so much better than the cold,” I laughed. He picked up my right foot and began to massage the inner sole. My eyes fluttered closed, and a long, drawn out moan, escaped my lips. “That feels so good,” I murmured, “but it’s going to make me sleepy.” “Then go to sleep,” he replied softly. “I’ll let you nap. Those dark circles under your eyes tell me you

haven’t been sleeping.” “Too much homework,” I grumbled, “and not enough hours in the day.” “You shouldn’t stay up all night to get your work done,” his thumb pressed into a tender spot on my foot. “I don’t stay up all night,” I mumbled. Only until one or two…okay, sometimes, three, in the morning. Trace snorted, not buying it, but didn’t say anything. He continued to massage my feet, and somewhere along the way, I fell asleep.

I woke up, blinking rapidly, to clear my vision. Where was— Oh, crap! I sat straight up, looking wildly around me. Holy crap, I fell asleep on Valentine’s Day while my sweet, thoughtful, boyfriend made me a romantic dinner. Award for worst girlfriend ever goes to—insert drumroll—Olivia Owens. I pushed the blanket off of my body, and stood, looking around for Trace. At that moment, the door to the apartment opened, and Trace strode inside, with two steaming steaks on a plate. Oh, thank goodness. I didn’t sleep that long. “Hey,” he smiled, “you’re up.” “Yeah,” I smoothed my fingers through my hair. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.” He shrugged, and put the plate down on the counter. “You needed your sleep. I’m glad you were able to get a nap,” he started fixing the food onto plates. “Still,” I mumbled, “it’s Valentine’s Day.” “It’s just a day, Olivia,” he smiled. “It’s not a big deal, I swear.” He put a hand to his chest. I took a deep breath and decided to drop the subject. “Can I help?” I asked. “Yeah,” he grinned and pointed to the small table behind the couch, “you can park your sexy ass in one of those chairs. That would be helpful.” “Fine,” I grumbled, and pulled out one of the chairs, dropping into the seat dramatically, “Here I am, being helpful.” He bent and peered at me underneath the cabinets. He faked a gasp. “Look at you, doing as you’re told, I might have to give you a sticker.” “I like stickers,” I laughed. “Then I’ll make sure you have all the damn stickers in the world,” he chuckled. “Just the unicorn ones,” I joked. “Glitter colored unicorns?” He asked. “Of course,” I feigned annoyance, “and they have to have pink manes.” Plates clattered in the kitchen. “This is the weirdest conversation ever,” he snorted. “Regardless,” I propped my head on my hands as he rounded the corner with our food, “I still want the sticker you promised.” “That can be arranged,” he grinned as he set the plates down. He went back to the kitchen to grab utensils and our drinks. “I could’ve helped you, you know,” I gazed up at him as I cut into my steak. “I know,” he smiled, “but I wanted to do this by myself.” I took a bite of the melt-in-your-mouth steak. “Is that the case, or were you afraid I’d ruin something?” “No comment,” he chuckled. “Is the steak good?” “It’s delicious,” I answered honestly. “So, I’ve been thinking,” he mused. “About what?” I swallowed a bite of the garlic-mashed potatoes. “One of things on your list,” he tapped his fingers against the wooden table and brought his beer to his lips with his free hand.

“Which one?” I asked and the nerves that usually accompanied the mentioning of my list were absent. “When’s your spring break?” He asked to avoid my question. “March seventh,” I answered. “Hmmm,” he hummed. “Care to elaborate,” I persisted. He leaned forward and our eyes connected. “On your list, you said you wanted to see the ocean,” he stated. “Yeah,” I replied, even though it hadn’t been a question. “I think we, and by we, I mean you, me, Avery, and Luca, should go to the beach over your spring break. It’ll be cold in March and you won’t want to get in the ocean, but at least you’ll get to see it.” Excitement bubbled inside me. “I don’t want to get in the ocean anyway, too many fish,” I shuddered, “so the temperature won’t bother me. But are you sure? Can you take off work?” “I have plenty of vacation days, besides,” he took another sip of beer, “Pete knows I work harder here than anybody, himself included. He’s always telling me to take a break and this seems like the perfect opportunity.” I did a little happy dance in the chair which made Trace shake with laughter. “This is so exciting! I’m going to see the ocean! Oh my gosh, I can finally put my toes in the sand! And collect seashells!” “I’m glad you’re excited,” he took a bite of his steak. “Excited? That’s an understatement. Try, ecstatic!” I continued with my seated dance. “It doesn’t take much to make you happy, Olivia,” he shook his head. “No, it doesn’t,” I agreed.

Even though Trace had been adamant that I not help with the food preparation, I managed to get him to agree, albeit reluctantly, to let me help clean the dishes. I was one of those people who hated sitting around, feeling useless. I needed to be up, and moving, doing something productive. I scrubbed the dishes while Trace dried them and put them away. We worked quietly, enjoying each other’s company. I hadn’t seen him much since classes started up and I missed him something fierce. I cleaned the last dish and pulled the plug so the soapy water could drain from the sink. Strong arms wrapped around me, from behind, boxing me in. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Olivia,” he crooned in my ear, burying his face into my hair. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Trace,” my eyes closed as I leaned against his hard chest. He brushed my hair over my shoulder and kissed my neck tenderly. My body instantly responded to his tender touch. I turned in his arms, and reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lifted me onto the counter, staring at me. For once, I couldn’t read what he was thinking behind his bright green eyes. In a flash, he cupped the back of my neck and pulled me to him, kissing me long and deep. His hand ventured down, over my breast and ribcage, and he used both to grip my thighs, pulling me against his hips. A moan escaped me when I felt the hard length pressing against my center. I may have been tired before, but now, I was wide-awake. I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off of his shoulders. He backed a step away; gazing at me with lust filled eyes, as he removed the shirt the rest of the way, pulling the wife-beater over his head. He stepped forward again, holding me against his torso as he kissed me passionately. My hands were trapped between us and I used that to my advantage, running my fingers over the smooth planes of his abs, memorizing the dips and curves of his body. Suddenly, he lifted me from the counter, and carried me into the bedroom. He laid me gently on bed and covered my body with his. I gripped his cheeks in my hands, stubble rubbing against the sensitive skin of my palms, as he kissed me. He undressed me slowly, taking his time exploring every plane of my body. I started begging for more, but he only chuckled in reply.

When we finally came together, my only thought was: Perfect.

“Avery, we’re only going to the beach for five days. Do you really need to pack so much stuff?” I glared at my roommate as she tried to squeeze ‘one last thing’ into her already overflowing suitcase. “Yes!” She cried. “I never know what I might need!” “Still,” I shrugged, “it seems like you could make do without it.” She gasped. “Olivia!” “What?” I asked innocently. “I swear,” she shook her head, her red hair swishing around her shoulders, “sometimes, I wonder if you’re a girl.” “I’m a girl,” I assured her with a smile as I sat on my bed, my packed—not-to-the-brim—suitcase, sat on the floor by the door. “I just don’t need as much stuff as you seem to need.” “This,” Avery pointed to her face, “takes time, Livie. I need all my makeup, and my flat iron, and-” “I get it,” I held up a hand to shut her up, “your highness.” Thirty minutes later, the guys were outside waiting for us, and Avery still wasn’t ready. “Hurry up,” I begged, desperate to leave, and start the almost five hour drive. “I’m almost ready,” she insisted, trying to close her second suitcase. “Ugh,” I groaned as I flopped back on my bed. “You said that an hour ago.” “Done!” She announced a minute later. “Thank you, Jesus!” I cried, sitting up, climbing from my bed. I wasn’t wasting any time. If Avery said she was ready, we were leaving, because I knew if we lingered a minute longer, she would think of something else she needed to bring. I rolled my suitcase out the door and then picked it up to carry it down the steps. Thank goodness I hadn’t packed much and it was light and easy to carry. Avery didn’t have the same luxury. I heard her cursing behind me as she fumbled with her two large suitcases. “I’ll tell Luca to come help you!” I yelled and my voice echoed through the empty dorm. I was sure that Avery and I were the only ones that still hadn’t left for Spring Break. Damn her and her need to over-pack. “That might be a good idea!” She called back. I stepped outside and spotted Trace leaning against a gray Toyota 4Runner. He grinned when he saw me, pecking me on the cheek, taking my suitcase to load it in the trunk. “Luca’s going to drive,” he informed me, “we figured everyone would be more comfortable riding in an SUV than a car.” I nodded in agreement. Trace held one of the back doors open, and I slid inside, tapping Luca on the shoulder. “Hey,” he smiled, showcasing a chipped tooth that I hadn’t noticed before. “Avery needs some help,” I told him.

He sighed. “How much is she bringing?” “You don’t want to know,” I mumbled. “Shit,” he cursed, getting out of the car, and striding into the dorm. Trace slid into the seat next to me in the back. “Are you excited to go to the beach?” “You know I am,” I buckled my seatbelt. “I’m probably the only twenty year old on the planet, who’s never been to the beach.” He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I’m sorry you missed out on so much throughout your childhood, but selfishly, I’m really happy that you’re experiencing all these firsts, with me.” He glanced at me through hooded lashes. “I’m glad I am too,” I answered honestly. I couldn’t help believing, that somehow, my list had brought me to Trace. I knew that seemed childish, like someone believing in fairies, but that’s how I felt. Luca and Avery appeared, walking around to the trunk, arguing. The trunk opened and their voices drifted inside. “Av, I told you one suitcase! Not two, and a purse, and whatever the fuck that is!” He pointed to her makeup bag clutched in her hand. “I need all of this,” she pouted. “I wasn’t leaving behind things I needed.” Luca loaded the rest of her things in and closed the trunk. They resumed their bickering as soon as they got in the car. “Besides,” Avery defended, “the weather at the beach is unpredictable this time of year. I needed a little bit of everything. Shorts, jeans, tanks, sweaters-” “I get it,” Luca snapped to silence her jabbering, as he excited the campus parking lot, turning onto the interstate. Avery leaned towards him, whispering, “I know I won’t get to wear it outside, but I brought my bikini, so I could model it for you. I want you to take it off of me and-” “Avery!” I interrupted. “We can hear you!” “I don’t care,” she replied, and continued on with exactly what it was she wanted Luca to do with her, not embarrassed at all that Trace and I could hear every word. I buried my face into Trace’s shoulder to stifle my laugh. “It’s going to be a long ride,” he mumbled. “The longest,” I agreed.

Five hours later, we finally made it to the hotel. Trace hopped out, and grabbed one of those rolling carts, loading our bags onto it, while Luca did the same with his and Avery’s things. Trace wheeled our stuff inside while Luca spoke with the valet. I let Trace take care of checking in, since the room was under his name, and collapsed into one of the whicker wingback chairs in the lobby. I welcomed the silence after the long drive with Avery’s endless chatter. I loved the girl, but sometimes, she didn’t know when to shut up. Trace wheeled the cart to me and held up the room key triumphantly. Grinning, he said, “Let’s drop our stuff off at the room, and then I’m taking you to see the ocean.” I jumped up, my excitement returning, and followed him to the elevators. “We’re on the top floor and I made sure we got an ocean view,” he smiled, leaning against the back wall of the elevator. “I’m so excited,” I exclaimed as the elevator doors opened. We walked down the hall, and Trace stopped in front of a door, sliding the key card in. “Ta da,” he grinned, pushing the door open. I stepped inside first and gasped. It wasn’t like your typical hotel room. There was a small kitchen and dining table, with a full living room, and open doors leading to the bedroom. The walls in both spaces were painted pale blue with white accents. Pictures of fish and seashells decorated the walls and the carpet was clean and plush. But the centerpiece of the whole space was the balcony and wall of windows, extending from the living room, into the bedroom.

“Wow,” I breathed, stepping up to the windows and gazing out at the blue-gray ocean. Even through the glass, I heard the roar of the ocean as it crashed against the sand. The door clicked closed and I felt Trace step up beside me. “Is it everything you imagined?” He questioned. “It’s better,” I answered. He opened the sliding glass door, and we stepped outside, into the cool air. A sea breeze ruffled my hair. I smelled the salty sea and I knew it would be a scent I would never forget. I glanced around at the sand extending in both directions. The ocean itself looked as if it went on forever. “Can we go down there?” I asked, desperate to sink my toes in the sand, and maybe, let the cold ocean water wet my feet. “That’s the plan,” Trace chuckled. I raced back inside and to the door. “Hurry up, slow poke!” Trace chased me down the hall and into the elevator. When he caught up to me, he wrapped his arms around my waist, and hugged me. He nuzzled his face against my neck. “It’s nice to get away,” he murmured. “Mhmm,” I agreed, relaxing against him. He pulled away and grinned at me. “I wish it was sunnier, because you really need a tan,” he chortled. I smacked his shoulder. “Maybe you need a tan,” I glared. “I was only joking,” he shook his head. “I know,” I replied as the elevator doors opened into the lobby. “But I’m a girl, and we’re sensitive,” I explained, following the arrows that led us to a door straight onto the beach. “I’m very aware that you’re a girl,” he smirked, pinching my hip. I rolled my eyes at his banter. As soon as my sneakers sunk into the sand, I couldn’t get them off fast enough. I picked them up, and carried them in my right hand, as I ran through the sand, squealing like a small child. Trace’s chuckle echoed through the air around me. Since it was a colder day, we were the only ones crazy enough to be out on the beach, but I preferred it that way. It meant I could act as crazy as I wanted. Trace caught up to me, slinging me over his shoulder, and spinning me around. I squealed in surprise and he slapped my butt. “Put me down,” I beat his back. “Never,” his voice rumbled. He ran down the beach, carrying me as if I weighed nothing. The roar of the water got closer, and I began to panic, twisting in his arms. “Trace! No!” “Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’m not going to drop you in the ocean. I only want to get your feet wet.” He set me down, gently on the sand, and we both rolled up the pants legs of our jeans. He took my hand and we stepped forward. The icy cold water rolled over my feet and ankles, causing me to scream shrilly. “That’s cold!” I cried as I backed away so the icy water couldn’t get me again. “It’s March, of course it’s cold,” he chuckled. “But I wanted you to be able to say you put your toes in the ocean.” “I can certainly say that now,” I shivered and he wrapped his warm arm around me. “Mhmm,” he mumbled, kissing the top of my head. We sat down on the sand, and Trace pulled me between his legs, wrapping his arms around my torso for warmth. I picked up a handful of sand and watched it sift through my fingers. I loved how when you held a lot of it, or dug your toes into the sand, it felt soft, but when you touched only a few grains, you could feel the rough edges of the rocks they had once been. “What are you thinking so deeply about?” Trace asked, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “Nothing,” I responded. “Just enjoying this.” I smiled to myself, knowing that one more thing could now be crossed off my list. It was amazing, getting to do these things I had been longing to do, but a part of me wondered, when I had completed

everything how would I feel? Would I feel satisfied or incomplete? For two years, doing these things was all I had dreamed of, but now that it was happening, what would I do next?

I picked up as many seashells as I could find, stuffing them into my pockets, and handing even more to Trace. “Where are you going to put all of these?” He asked, putting a handful in his back pocket. “In a jar,” I responded, picking up another with pretty pink and white coloring. “I wish I had a bucket,” I mumbled. “That would be helpful.” “Maybe Avery has one,” Trace snorted, trailing behind me. “It seems like she packed everything else.” “Who knows?” I shrugged. “She might.” Trace held up two large seashells to his chest. “You could make a smokin’ hot bikini top with these,” he joked and did a poor imitation of a hula dancer by shaking his hips. I hated to inform him that hula dancers didn’t wear seashell tops. I rolled my eyes. “Only in your dreams.” He grabbed me around my waist, letting the seashells fall to the sand. He tickled my side and I giggled as I tried to wrestle from his grasp. “Come on, Olivia. Make my sexy mermaid fantasy come true. Don’t crush a man’s dreams!” “Never!” I cried, falling to the ground, laughing as he continued his assault. Sand covered my clothes and hair, but I didn’t mind, because I was having too much fun. “Stop!” I pleaded. “Please! Stop tickling me!” “Only if I get a kiss,” he grinned, causing my stomach to somersault. Trace’s smile was lethal. “And a promise that one day you’ll wear a seashell top for me.” “Fine!” I gasped. At this point, I’d agree to anything, if he’d stop tickling me. He stopped tickling my stomach, and I took a moment to catch my breath, before he stole it once more with his lips. He gazed down at me with a boyish smile. “If this was a private beach, I’d make love to you right here.” My body tightened at his words and my hips involuntarily jerked against his. “You’re not serious?” My eyes widened. He tilted his head, studying me. “I’m very serious, Olivia,” he pressed into me and his erection was obvious. I swallowed thickly, at a loss of words. He smirked and rolled off of me. Standing, he held out a hand, and helped me up. “Like I said, only if it was private,” he winked, wetting his lips. “I don’t want anyone, but me, getting an eyeful of you.” Pressing me flush against his body, he brushed his lips against the curve of my ear, causing me to shiver. “Let’s finish collecting these seashells you seem to love so much,” he chuckled, letting our previous conversation drop. When Trace and I had both run out of pocket space, and I was chilled to the bone, I decided it was time for us to return to our room. We emptied our pockets onto the dining table. Sand spilled out along with the shells. Maid service was going to hate us. As the last shell fell from my pocket, I shivered and sneezed. Trace pressed his hand to my forehead. “You’re a little warm, baby. I knew we shouldn’t have stayed outside for so long.” Concern clouded his eyes. I sneezed again in reply. “Come on,” he dragged me into the spacious, nicely decorated bathroom, stripping my clothes. He turned the shower on and the room quickly filled with steam. “Shower,” he helped me inside. “I’m going to the lobby to see if they have any medicine and coffee. You need to warm up.” “Avery might have medicine,” I joked as he slid the white shower curtain into place, “and for all we know, she brought a mini Starbucks with her.” Trace chuckled at my comment. “I won’t be gone long. I’ll bring some pajamas in here for you to change into. I don’t want you to get sick.” “Okay,” I mumbled in reply. I knew there was no point in arguing with Trace. If he thought I was

getting sick, he’d play doctor, and that was that. The shower did make me warmer, but I was starting to feel lousy. I had experienced enough colds in my life to know I was getting one. Hopefully, I could sleep it off. I pulled on the pajamas Trace had left out, and climbed under the covers of the king sized bed, turning the TV on. A few minutes later, as my eyes were growing heavy, Trace returned. “Feeling better?” He asked hopefully. I shook my head no. “I’m sorry, baby,” he sat down beside me and the bed dipped down. “I got some Advil, coffee, and water,” he laid the coffee, and pill bottle, on the table beside the bed. Then pulled out a water bottle from under his arm. He twisted the cap off the Advil and shook two red pills into his palm. He handed them to me along with the bottle of water. I took the pills and drank the whole bottle of water. I hoped the medicine would work its magic and I’d feel better in the morning. Even though it wasn’t time to go to bed, sleep was calling my name. “What can I do?” Trace asked. He looked so helpless that I felt bad for him, even though I was the sick one. “I’m tired, I just want to sleep,” I answered softly. “Okay,” he let out a breath and kissed my forehead. “I’ll let you sleep.” “Thank you,” I mumbled as my lids closed.

I slept straight through the night, and awoke the next morning, feeling refreshed. Trace had come to bed at some point, last night, but I hadn’t noticed. He was on his back with his left arm thrown above his head. I ran my greedy eyes over his bare chest. Trace, shirtless, was a sight I would never get used to. His chest rose and fell in deep sleep and I looked at the clock. It was early, just after six. I slipped from the bed, and showered, washing my hair. I brushed the wet strands and pulled it back into a bun on top of my head. I dressed casually in jeans and a loose t-shirt. I wrote a quick note to Trace and left it beside him on the bed so he wouldn’t worry. Feeling better. Gone to get breakfast. -Olivia I grabbed the spare room key off the counter in the small kitchen and made my way to the lobby. There were a few people already milling about to get breakfast, but not many. I was surprised by the selection of food and drinks. You could even make your own waffles. I opted to toast a bagel with cream cheese and a glass of orange juice. It was one of my favorite things to have for breakfast. I sat down at an empty table beside the windows and basked in the quiet atmosphere as I gazed out at the dark ocean. The sun wouldn’t rise for another forty minutes or so. The seat across from me scraped across the tile floor and I looked away from the window to meet Trace’s green-eyed gaze. “So, you’re feeling better?” He asked, looking me over carefully. “Much better,” I smiled. I wasn’t surprised that he was awake, and down here, he was such a light sleeper. “Good,” he seemed relieved. “I was worried you were getting really sick and it would be all my fault.” He drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “If I got sick, it wouldn’t be your fault,” I shook my head at him and his silliness. “Go get something to eat,” I nodded to the spread of food set out on the bar. Reluctantly, he pushed back from the table, and made himself a waffle. By the time he sat down across from me, again, I had finished my breakfast. He kept glancing at me skeptically, waiting for a cough or a sneeze. “I’m fine, I promise,” I smiled at him. “I’m going to go get some coffee,” I explained, getting up. Trace kept looking at me like he expected me to fall over dead or something.

I poured the coffee into one of the Styrofoam cups provided, and then added a heaping amount of sugar, and creamer. I honestly didn’t know why I drank the stuff since I had to doctor it up so much. I returned to the table and Trace was almost finished with his waffle. “Are you sure you’re-” I held up a hand to stop him. “Yes, I’m sure. You have nothing to worry about except for my nerves that you’re wearing out.” “Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, adding more syrup to his last bite of waffle. “I understand that you’re concerned, but you don’t need to be so overprotective,” I said, taking a hesitant sip of coffee so I didn’t burn my tongue. His eyes narrowed. “When it comes to you, I’ll be as overprotective as I want.” I shook my head, smiling. “I’m not a kid, Trace.” “I know,” he chuckled with a small smile. “But I-” He stopped, swallowing thickly. “Never mind,” he wet his lips. “I’ll stop nagging you.” We ventured back up to the room, and I took my coffee with us, sitting down on the couch. As much as I wanted to go out on the beach, I was afraid to tempt fate, so for the time being, I looked out the window at the ocean. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Trace asked and the worry was clear on his face. I thought it was sweet that he was so concerned, but I didn’t like that he was worrying unnecessarily. Plus, it was getting really annoying. “I’m sure,” I answered, taking a sip of coffee. I didn’t bother to say anything about his promise to stop nagging me. “I don’t plan on going down to the beach today, but I don’t feel sick. Please, don’t worry about me,” I begged. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, rumpling it further. “I’m not normally a worrier,” he admitted, “but something about you…” He paused, glancing at me. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, on my watch.” His voice was soft and his eyes were serious. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Trace,” I took his hand and pulled him down beside me on the couch. “I’m going to get sick and I’m going to get hurt. It’s a part of life. You can’t freak out because I have the sniffles.” “You’re right,” he groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “You’ll be the end of me,” he chuckled humorlessly. I grinned mischievously, trying to distract him. “If we’re not going out, there are plenty of things we can do inside.” He turned to me, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “And what would that be?” I smiled slyly, and climbed onto his lap. “How about I show you?”

“Ugh,” Avery grumbled as we sunk into the sand. “It figures, the day we’re supposed to go home, the sun decides to come out, and it’s actually warm.” “I don’t consider sixty degrees that warm,” I laughed, kicking off my shoes, sinking my toes into the cold sand. “Maybe not,” she agreed, pushing her gigantic sunglasses further up her nose, “but it’s better than it’s been the last few days.” “That’s true,” I shrugged, watching the guys toss a football back and forth. There were a few other people scattered along the beach, but not many. The temperature might have been in the lower sixties but the cool ocean breeze made it feel more like fifty-five. Trace was being overprotective and didn’t want me outside, but since it was our last day here, he’d given in, and agreed to stop treating me like a small child. I brought the pink hoodie of my sweatshirt up over my head and watched the guys through my dark sunglasses. I heard the sounds of their laughter carrying along on the wind. Since I had met Trace, I hadn’t spent much time around Luca or seen how they interacted as friends, but it was clear to me now, that like Avery and me, they were inseparable. Best friends, the ones you keep for life, are hard to find, so when you do, you hold on with everything you have, and never let go. I leaned back on my elbows and stretched my legs out, letting the sun warm me as much possible. I let my eyes close and basked in the warmth fanning across my face. “You’re not falling asleep on me are you?” Avery groaned, poking my shoulder.

“No,” I giggled turning to look at her. “Good,” she slid closer to me. The evil smile gracing her face told me that she was about to tell me something I wasn’t going to like to hear. “We’ve both been so busy that I haven’t had the proper time to talk to you about Luca.” “Oh no,” I groaned, wishing I could teleport myself away. “Please, no.” Talking about a guy, when it came from Avery, meant I was about to hear all about Luca’s prowess in bed. Whenever she did this, I was never able to look the guy she was dating, in the eye, ever again. Since it appeared that Luca was sticking around for the long haul, this could prove difficult. I was surprised that I had managed to avoid this conversation with her for so long. Obviously, my luck had run out. She continued, like I had said nothing. “Ohmigawd, Olivia, I have never been with someone that’s as good as he is. Let me tell you, he knows exactly what he’s doing.” She emphasized her words with a thrust of her hips. “Avery, I’m begging you-” “He’s so bossy and controlling when we have sex. Normally, I’m not okay with that, but strangely, it turns me on when he turns all macho and bosses me around…I mean, I’m not okay with him bossing me around outside the bedroom,” she rattled, waving her hands through the air dramatically. “He gets rough too,” she sighed dreamily. I didn’t understand what was so appealing about rough sex, but since I had never experienced it, I decided to keep my mouth shut. “And he has an apadravya,” she grinned wickedly. “Am I supposed to know what that is?” I raised a brow. She looked at me like I was a complete idiot. “What? I don’t know what it is!” I cried. With a dramatic sigh, she explained, “It’s a piercing, through the head of his penis-” “Shut up!” I slapped my hands over my ears. “I don’t want to hear this!” I shook my head back and forth. “Too much information!” I saw Avery roll her eyes, even through her sunglasses. “Stop freaking out, Olivia. It’s not necessary.” I reluctantly let my hands fall from my ears so that her voice was no longer muffled. “I hate you so much right now!” I exclaimed. “Now, every time I see him,” I pointed to Luca out on the beach, “all I’m going to be able to think of is that, that, that, thing,” I stuttered. “It’s wonderful,” she sing-songed. “It hits my g-spot every single time.” I covered my ears once more. She pushed my shoulders and I fell over into the sand. “For someone that’s having regular sex, with their smokin’ hot boyfriend, you can be such a prude,” she grumbled. “I’m not a prude!” I defended. Okay, maybe I was, but who wanted to hear about their best friend’s, boyfriend’s, penis piercing? It was far too much for anyone to handle. “There’s a fine line between talking about girl stuff…or even the rough sex you’re enjoying,” I pointed a finger at her, “and telling me all about his man parts.” “Oh, Olivia,” Avery sighed, laying back on her propped elbows, “you are such a preacher’s daughter.” I shook my head. I could never get anywhere with Avery. She was never able to see when she crossed a line. I decided to try a different tactic. “How would you feel, if Luca was over there, telling Trace all about your vagina?” I reasoned. She shrugged. “I wouldn’t care.” The girl had no shame. “I don’t understand you,” I laughed. She pushed her sunglasses into her hair and looked over at me with a wink. “The joys of being one of a kind.”

A kiss was pressed against my nose and I stirred in my sleep. I slowly opened my eyes and found Trace hovering above me, a grin plastered on his handsome face. How was he always so peppy in the mornings? It took me forever to wake up. “What?” I yawned, slapping a hand over my mouth, to cover my morning breath. “Get dressed, we have places to go, and people to see,” he tossed my clothes at me. “And hurry.” “Ugh,” I groaned, rolling out of bed, and dressing. I pulled my hair back in a sloppy ponytail and grabbed one of Trace’s baseball caps to hide how bad my hair looked. I laced up my Converse and wiped my sleepy eyes as I stepped into the kitchen area. Trace had cooked eggs and bacon for breakfast. I shoveled some onto a plate and ate it mechanically. “Where are we going?” I asked, stifling another yawn, “and what time is it, anyway?” “It’s seven,” he answered, striding into the kitchen. He was dressed in typical Trace fashion. If he didn’t make those plaid shirts look so darn good, I would be so sick of them by now. “And we’re going to see Gramps and Trent. I need their help with something.” “Oh. Why do I need to come?” I finished my breakfast and rinsed the plate. “It involves you,” he grinned, grabbing two bottles of water from the refrigerator. He tossed one at me, and even in my sleepy state, I managed to catch it. “Of course,” I rolled my eyes. He grabbed his car keys and started for the door. I followed slowly behind him, blinking my eyes rapidly as I tried to wake up. I had been having so many late nights studying that I had been looking forward to sleeping in on this Saturday morning. Leave it to Trace to ruin my plans. I was excited to see Warren and Trent though. I had grown fond of both of them.

The trees opened up and the mansion came into view. I gazed at it in awe. I was sure I would never get used to the sight of it. The lawn was massive and had been recently mowed. Purple, white, and blue flowers dotted the landscape. Trace parked, and instead of going inside, we headed around back, past the outdoor swimming pool, and tennis court. I saw Trent and Warren in the distance but couldn’t see what they were doing. When we got close enough, my eyes zeroed in on the targets set up. My eyes widened. “Think you can handle a gun?” Trace smirked. “I can handle you,” I countered, “so I can definitely handle a gun.” His laugh rumbled through his body. “That’s funny.”

“Hey,” Trent smiled. He was dressed casually in a pair of shorts and t-shirt. The tattoo that covered his upper arm looked like some sort of waterscape. His dark hair was tousled in the front, making him look even more like his brother. “Ready to learn to shoot?” He asked me, pointing at one of the targets. “Trace said you wanted to know how to shoot a gun.” “Uh, yeah,” I muttered. “You don’t need to look so scared,” Trent chuckled and bumped my shoulder with his. “Us Wentworth boys have excellent aim. Right, Gramps?” Warren shook his head, hobbling towards us. “You have nothing to be afraid of, Olivia,” he assured me. “This will be fun,” Trace smirked cockily, and strode over to a golf cart I was sure Warren and Trent had used to get here from the house. Poor Warren obviously had trouble getting around. Trace opened a lock box that was on the back of the golf cart. I walked over and peered over his shoulder at the weapon that could kill someone with a simple pull of a trigger. Trace clucked his tongue, looking at the different guns in the box. “Let’s try a revolver and a semiautomatic pistol for you. Those should be easier for you to handle since you’re a beginner, but they still have some firepower to them,” he murmured, tapping a finger against his lips. “You’re taking forever,” Trent groaned from behind us. “Just pick one and show her how to shoot.” “Why do you have to be so impatient?” Trace snapped at his brother. “Why do you have to be so annoying?” Trent raised a brow. Trace shook his head and grabbed two guns. I followed him over to one of the targets Trent and Warren set up. “This is a revolver,” he held the gun in his right hand aloft. I was of medium size with a silver cylinder that held chambers for the bullets. “And this one,” he held the other where I could see it, “is a semiautomatic.” This one was sleeker looking. “Which one do you want to try?” I pointed to the semi-automatic. He grinned. “Why am I not surprised?” He returned the other gun and jogged back to my side. Warren and Trent were already shooting at their targets while Trace explained what I needed to do. “Semi-automatics are slimmer and lighter than a revolver,” his eyes were serious as he spoke. “They can fire more bullets, quicker, and the trigger is easier.” He loaded the magazine with bullets, and directed me with how to stand and hold it, before he finally handed it to me. I held it in my hands, surprised that I wasn’t shaking. “Take a deep breath,” Trace coached. “Look at the target, and when you think you’re ready, aim and fire.” I swallowed, eyeing the paper target. I pulled the trigger and resisted the urge to close my eyes. The bullet missed by a few feet, not even connecting with the paper, but I had done it. I had actually shot a gun. “That was close,” Trace chuckled. “You’re such a liar. That was nowhere close,” I shook my head at him. “I was trying to make you feel better,” he defended. “I want to try again,” I told him. He helped me back into position, but he kept distracting me with a brush of his fingers over my shoulders…down my back…playing with my ponytail. “Trace,” I warned, “you’re distracting me.” “Sorry,” his chuckle vibrated my body with his close proximity. “You don’t sound sorry,” I rolled my eyes, “you sound mighty pleased with yourself.” “Maybe,” his fingers skimmed up my bare neck and his lips grazed my ear, “I like distracting you.” “You’re very good at it,” my eyes fluttered closed and my teeth sank into my lip. “I’m good at lots of things,” his voice was husky. “Boy!” Warren yelled. “Stop bothering that poor girl!” “Sorry, Gramps!” Trace laughed and stepped away from me. “It was too fun to resist,” he added to me with a lick of his lips. God, that man could talk me into doing anything, with a few simple words, and a lick of his pouty lips. I eyed the target again and let loose another bullet.

I whooped in joy when it connected with the paper. It may have been in the bottom right corner, but I had hit it. “Try again,” Trace smiled, “aim a bit higher and to the left, though.” I did as he said, and hit the target again, closer to the center this time. “This is fun!” I exclaimed. Warren, Trent, and Trace all chuckled at my enthusiasm. “You’re a Wentworth now,” Warren cackled and shot his target, hitting it in the center. “One of you boys, do me a favor, and change my target.” I saw that his paper target was completely hollowed out in the middle from his accurate shots. Trent’s looked similar but with a few that had missed the mark slightly. Trent put his gun down and changed the targets. “You’re doing really good,” Trent assessed my progress. “Thanks,” I smiled at him. Trace continued to work with me until I finally hit the center of the target. He changed my target and set up his own. We shot side by side. He had to stop and help me a few more times, but for the most part, I had gotten the hang of it nicely. I was definitely better at shooting a gun than painting a picture. I found myself getting distracted by watching Trace shoot his own gun. He was obviously at ease with the firearm and it was a huge turn on seeing him look so masculine. He twitched under my scrutiny and missed the target. Trent and Warren burst into laughter. “That was your fault,” Trace mock-glared at me. “Mine?” I batted my eyelashes. “What did I do?” “If you keep looking at me like that,” he eyed me, “then we’re going to have a problem.” “I didn’t know I was looking at you in any particular way?” I played dumb. He stepped forward and gripped my elbow in one of his warm hands. He whispered in my ear, “You know exactly how you’re looking at me, Olivia. If you keep it up, I’m marching you straight to my bedroom, and spanking you.” His intense green gaze had me shivering, despite the warm temperature. I looked over my shoulder at Trent, who was watching us with a smirk, and Warren was staring at us with a raised brow. I blushed, clearing my throat, and took a step away from Trace. “That won’t be necessary,” I mumbled, turning back to my target. Trace chuckled. “Too bad.” Around noontime, we headed inside for lunch. Cecilia had made sandwiches and we ate them in the dining room. “You did extremely well today,” Warren smiled at me, wiping crumbs from his mouth with a flick of his napkin. “Thanks,” my head bowed at his praise. “Yeah,” Trent grinned, “you were good…for a beginner.” Trace glared at his brother. “She was better than a beginner.” “You’re only saying that because you’re getting some action,” Trent eyed Trace. Trace stiffened beside me. “Little brother, you never did know when you were crossing the line.” “Little brother? Did you seriously just say that? You couldn’t think of anything more insulting?” Trent tilted his head. I reached for Trace’s hand under the table to calm him. “Boys,” Warren banged a fist against the table, “that’s enough. Trenton, apologize to Olivia for that crass remark.” “Gramps,” Trent groaned. “Do it,” Warren narrowed his eyes at the youngest Wentworth brother. Trent looked me in the eye with a small, embarrassed, smile. “Sorry, Olivia. I didn’t mean it to insult you. I was only messing with Trace.” “I know,” I took a sip of water. Trent’s comment hadn’t upset me. In fact, the whole conversation had fascinated me, since I didn’t have siblings to bicker with. “Happy?” Trent turned to Warren.

“For now,” Warren chuckled, lifting a glass of water to his lips. I finished my sandwich, and asked Trace, “Where’s your mom and grandma?” “Spa day,” he shrugged. “They always go once a month.” “Oh,” I nodded. Trace ate a second sandwich and we excused ourselves from the table. We were strolling along the main hallway when Trace suggested we go swimming. “But I don’t have my swimsuit!” I whined. “Then get naked,” he winked, leading me out the backdoor. We stepped onto the patio and into the pool area. The water was a crisp blue. Trace stripped down to his boxers and dove into the water. “Why is everything so much easier for guys?” I grumbled to myself. He surfaced in the middle of the pool, shaking his dark hair, sending water flying. “Get in,” he grinned, splashing the water. I shook my head. “I don’t have anything dry to change into.” “You can wear some of my old clothes,” he reasoned. I shook my head at him and stretched across the diving board on my stomach. It swayed under my weight but quickly steadied. Trace swam over, underneath the board, and gazed up at me. I removed the baseball cap I was wearing and tossed it onto the patio. I pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair, and it fell forward, the ends skimming the water. I had already taken my shoes off in the house. Trace grabbed ahold of the diving board and I squealed as it dipped down. “Get in,” he pleaded. “No,” I smiled. Still holding onto the diving board, he leaned forward, and kissed me. His lips tasted like chlorine. “How about now?” He asked. “I might need a little more convincing,” I giggled. He kissed me again and his lips lingered against mine. “Alright, you’ve convinced me,” I smiled. He smirked, letting go of the diving board. It shook me roughly up and down and I found myself toppling over the side, plunging into the water. Like the indoor pool, this one was heated, so I didn’t have to worry about icy water shocking my system. My clothes were soaked, and since I was wearing a white shirt over a hot pink bra, Trace got an eyeful. “That was not nice,” I wiped water from my eyes. “I was afraid you’d chicken out on me,” he swam towards me. “I think I got water up my nose,” I complained. He pressed a kiss to the end of my nose. “There, now it’s all better.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Definitely not. But if you want to believe you made it feel better, then that’s fine with me.” “I can make anything better with a little kiss,” he pressed his lips against my neck where my pulse raced. He most certainly could, but I wasn’t telling him that. “I had fun today with your brother and grandpa,” I said instead. “Gramps loves you,” Trace chuckled. “Even more now that you can shoot,” he winked. “Gramps always tried to get Grammy to learn, but she never wanted to.” “I’m glad I put that on my list, now…I feel…unstoppable,” my fingers tangled in his hair. He chuckled. “Unstoppable, huh?” “Yeah, you better watch out,” I laughed. “Should I be afraid?” He grinned, his eyes a light green. “Very,” I smiled, “my boyfriend taught me and I have excellent aim…now.” “Remind me not to make you mad,” he murmured huskily, sucking a spot on my neck. “If you keep doing that, I don’t think I’ll ever get mad,” I whispered. My eyes closed and I bit down on my lip to prevent a moan from escaping. “Cannonball!” Trent yelled, a moment before he catapulted into the pool, and splashed our faces with water. And just like that, Trace’s little brother had effectively ruined the moment.

Swimming over to us, Trent pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Wanna play a game of water volleyball?” I looked at Trace and shrugged. “Sounds fun,” I smiled at Trent. “That’s fine with me,” Trace ruffled his brother’s wet hair. “Don’t do that,” Trent complained, swimming away, while fixing his hair. He unrolled the net that stretched across the pool and hopped out to grab the ball. I swam to the shallow end so I could stand and Trace followed me. “I’ll be on your team,” he winked at me as he stood. The water slid down his chest and I prayed I didn’t drool. Trent returned, jumping into the pool with the ball. He surfaced and sputtered, “I would say two against one isn’t fair but since I know I can beat you two easily, I’m not going to complain.” “Keep on thinking that little brother!” Trace chimed as Trent spiked the ball. Trace hit it back over the net and so it went.

“Told you I’d win,” Trent smirked as we dried off with the blue and white striped fluffy towels. “How long are you going to brag about this?” Trace grumbled, pulling his jeans on, over his wet boxers. “Till the end of time, sounds about right,” Trent chortled. Trace shook his head, sending water droplets flying. “Come on, Olivia. Let’s grab you some dry clothes and then we’ll get out of here.” “Okay,” I smiled. I turned to Trent and hugged him. He seemed surprised by the gesture but quickly wrapped his arms around me. “Thanks for hanging out with us today. I had fun.” “I did too,” he smiled and his adorable dimples popped out. I scurried after Trace and up the staircase. I was surprised there wasn’t an elevator…then again, maybe there was, and I had never seen it. I followed Trace into his closet, stripping out of my wet t-shirt and shorts, changing into one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of mesh shorts that I had to tighten all the way with the white drawstring. “You make my clothes look so much better than I do,” he murmured in my ear, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. I inhaled his natural scent mixed with chlorine from the pool. “Is that so?” I beamed. “Uh-huh,” he pulled one of my earlobes between his teeth and nibbled. “Wanna go back to my place? Or do you want me to drop you off at your dorm?” “What do you think?” I smiled as my arms went around his shoulders. “I think, option number one sounds like a mighty fine idea to me,” he grinned. “Same here,” I kissed his lips. I meant for it to be a quick kiss but Trace had other ideas. His tongue flicked against my lips, seeking entrance. “Mmm,” I hummed as his tongue flicked against mine. “We better get out of here,” he breathed as he took a step back, away from me, “but first,” he smiled, reaching into his pocket. “You have something to cross off.” I took the piece of paper from him as he produced a pen from his pocket. The items I had crossed off myself had a straight line drawn through them, while Trace’s lines were squigglier.

Get drunk Fly in a hot air balloon Go to the carnival Go to a concert (even if it’s someone I’ve never heard of) Go to a party Lose my virginity

Dance in the rain Go roller skating See the ocean Learn to paint Get a dog…or a cat…or a rabbit. Any pet will do. Sing in front of real people. Avery doesn’t count. Make more friends Shoot a gun Smoke Get a tattoo Learn to pole dance Go skinny dipping Pierce my belly button Fall in love I couldn’t believe that so many things had been completed. I handed the paper and pen back to Trace and he stuck it back in his pocket for safe keeping. “Ready?” He asked. I nodded. Ellie and Lily had returned from their spa day, and everyone was gathered in the family room, where we said our goodbyes. I may have been nervous to meet them, and overwhelmed by the big house, but the Wentworth’s truly were some of the nicest people I had ever met. I hugged Warren for an exceptionally long time. When classes ended, I hoped I’d have time to visit him some. “Be a good girl now,” he kissed my cheek, “and keep that grandson of mine in line.” “I will,” I smiled. “Stop trying to steal my girlfriend, Gramps,” Trace laughed. “I can’t help it that the ladies can’t resist me,” Warren chuckled warmly. “It’s the cane,” he winked as he hobbled over to Ellie, kissing his wife. It was clear, that even after all these years, he loved his wife and she loved him. I wanted that and I believed I’d found it in Trace.

I closed the lid of my laptop and took a deep breath. One paper down and a thousand more to go. I stood, about to grab my stuff for the shower, when there was a knock on the door. I glanced at Avery, relaxing on her bed, listening to music on her iPhone. She pulled out her ear buds and raised a brow. “Need something?” She asked. “Are you expecting someone?” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder at the door. “No. Must be for you,” she shrugged, replacing the ear buds. With a sigh, I yanked the door open. Trace stood there, casually, as if this was an everyday occurrence. “Busy?” He asked. “I just finished a paper,” I rubbed at my tired eyes. “So, you’re not busy,” he grinned, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. “I’m going to shower and go to bed. I’m tired,” I leaned against the doorway. “No, you’re not,” he shook his head. “You’re coming with me.” I sighed, dropping my head forward. “Trace, I can’t.” He could be so impossible to deal with sometimes. “I promise I won’t keep you out late. I know you’re busy with finals, but there’s something we have to do.” “This involves my list, doesn’t it?” I whispered, in case Avery was eavesdropping. He nodded, still smiling. “There’s only a short window of time for us to complete this one.” I didn’t bother to ask him what it was. I knew he wouldn’t tell me. “Fine, I’ll go,” I gave in with a dramatic sigh. “But I’m showering first.” There was no way in hell I was going anywhere with dirty hair and in the sweatpants I was wearing. “Deal,” he grinned. “Avery’s welcome to come too. Luca will be there.” “I’ll tell her,” I covered a yawn. Hopefully, I wouldn’t fall asleep standing up. “I’ll be in the parking lot,” he grinned and disappeared down the hall. I closed the door, and Avery eyed me, pulling her ear buds out once more. “What did Tracey-poo want? He really should stop sneaking into the dorms like that. Someone will babble to the R.A.,” she rolled her eyes. “Someone always tells on me when I have guys over,” she mumbled under her breath. I bit down on my lip to hide my laughter. I was the one who tipped off the R.A. to Avery’s habits. After one too many times of walking in on her and some random dude, having sex in our dorm, I decided something had to be done about it. Best friend or not. Thankfully, she and Luca seemed to be sticking to his place for their—uh—needs. “Trace and I are going out. He said you’re welcome to come along. Luca will be there,” I informed

her. With a squeal, she hopped from the bed, and scurried to her closet. “Where are we going?” “I have no clue,” I muttered, grabbing my shower bag. “Trace wouldn’t tell me.” Avery pouted. “How am I going to know what to wear?” “Just wing it,” I told her as I closed and locked the bathroom door.

A smile spread across my face as I spotted the Ferris Wheel up ahead. Trace parked in the gravel beside a shady, run-down strip mall, and I slid from the car, my eyes wide with excitement. I couldn’t believe I was actually at a carnival. I took a moment to soak in the bells, dings, and cheers from the people playing games. The smell of popcorn, hotdogs, and cotton candy, invaded my senses, along with the scent of pot. Lovely. I felt Trace’s calloused hand slide into mine and we started towards the entrance. We stopped and paid for the bracelets that allowed us on the rides. I stuck the purple paper bracelet on, sure that with my luck, it would fall off. “I’m going to meet Luca,” Avery waved as she backed away, her phone held in front of her, the glow of the screen illuminating her face. “So,” Trace’s hands wrapped around my waist, “what do you want to do first?” I looked around at all the booths with all the different games. Different colored lights flashed all around on the rides. Pinks, purples, silvers…you name it, the color was flashing somewhere. “What do you think we should do?” I asked. “I’ve never been to a carnival before, so this isn’t exactly my forte,” I laughed as we passed a stand selling corndogs. “Hmm,” he tapped his chin, “since it’s not as crowded as it will be soon, I think we should do the Ferris Wheel first. There will be a wait now, but it shouldn’t be too long, not like it will be later.” “Okay,” I smiled up at him. We made our way to the large round circle in the distance. Lights winked all along the structure and excitement bubbled inside me. While we waited in line, I looked around at the other various rides. There was a swinging ship, cars that spun in circles, and a ride that lifted straight up into the air, on a metal pole, before it came flying back down to the ground. Music pumped through the massive speakers throughout the area. I grinned like a small child when it was our turn to get in one of the swinging chairs that would lift us high up into the sky. For some reason, I had never been afraid of heights. When I was little, I used to watch the birds, longingly, wishing I could take flight with them. The Ferris Wheel started it’s ascent into the sky and I giggled giddily. Trace was going to hate me by the end of the night. I planned on riding everything, even the carousel. When we reached the top, I gasped aloud as I gazed below us. The carnival looked beautiful. The rides were cheap and silly, but with all the sparkling lights, music, and the cheers from people, it seemed…magical. “Wow,” I breathed. It seemed like the only word to describe what I was feeling. It was incredible, how different the world seemed, when you got a different perspective of it. Trace’s warm hand covered mine, where it gripped the metal bar. “This is amazing,” I gazed at him with wide eyes. “The world looks so big from up here…infinite.” He smiled. “The world is big, we’re the ones that pretend it’s small.” His words were so true. It was so easy to forget everything that was happening outside your own circle and not directly to you. He leaned towards me and the chair we were in shook slightly. His lips pressed gently against my cheek, his stubble rasping against my skin. My eyes closed involuntarily at the small touch and my heart lurched. “I think you’re a more beautiful sight than this,” he waved his hand to encompass the carnival below us and the surrounding town. I eyed him. “Are you trying to get laid?” He threw his head back with laughter. “Olivia,” his fingers skimmed my neck, “you should know by

now that I have smoother moves than that.” My pulse accelerated at his touch and he grinned when he felt the increase. His hand fell away and he gripped the bar as the Ferris Wheel began to descend. We hopped off the Ferris Wheel and he took my hand. “Do you get motion sickness?” Trace asked, stopping at the end of the line for the spinning car ride. “No,” I shook my head. “Good,” he grinned. “This is one of my favorites.” He helped me climb into one of the cars, and I gripped the metal bar that held us in place, tightly in my hands, since I wasn’t sure how fast we’d actually be spinning. It turned out to be really fun, and under normal circumstances, I would’ve been embarrassed by the amount of screaming and laughing I was doing. Still dizzy from the spinning cars, we walked around for a little bit. Trace stopped in front of one of the games where you could win prizes. A guy currently stood there with his girlfriend, throwing baseballs at plastic pins. “I’m going to win you one of those,” he grinned cockily, pointing to the large stuffed animals hanging from the booth, “but not until later. Neither one of us is going to want to lug that around for the rest of the night.” He took my hand and before I had the chance to respond, we were climbing onto the swinging ship. I screamed as it rocked higher and higher into the air, holding on tightly to Trace’s hand. From there, he dragged me to the ride that went straight up in the air and dropped to the ground really fast. I screamed at the top of my lungs on that one, but thankfully, there were a few other girls that screamed louder than me. I was surprised one of the girl’s didn’t squeeze her boyfriend’s hand right off by the way she was gripping it. After that, we took a break, stopping at one of the food stands. We both ordered a corndog and sat down at a wooden picnic table to eat. I was amazed by how good it tasted, but since I hadn’t eaten much today, anything would taste good. “Ooh! Ooh!” I squealed, pointing at a stand selling cotton candy. I had never tried it before, but I felt like I had to, in order to complete my carnival experience. Trace turned to look over his shoulder to see what I was pointing at. He turned back to me, finishing his corn dog. “Cotton candy?” “I’ve never had it! I have to at least try it, even if it sucks!” I exclaimed, staring dreamily at the pale pink and blue swirls. Trace shook his head, unable to hide his smile. “I’ll be right back.” I shrieked in delight, like a small child, as he made his way to the cotton candy stand. He swaggered along slowly, to infuriate me. “Hurry up, Trace!” I yelled, earning a glare from a passing mother carrying her toddler. Somebody slid onto the picnic bench seat, beside me, and I turned to see Avery and Luca. “Why are you yelling at Trace?” Avery asked, pulling her long hair into a ponytail. “Because, he’s taking forever to get my cotton candy!” I cried, pointing at him as he stood in line. Avery laughed. “I think this carnival has turned you into a five year old.” “Probably,” I shrugged, calming down. “I’ve never been to one.” Luca’s eyes widened as he sat across from Avery and I. “Never?” “Never,” I replied. “I wasn’t allowed.” “Who were you raised by?” He asked, stunned. “Nuns?” I laughed. He was pretty darn close to the truth. “Something like that.” I took a sip of my Snapple sweet tea. Luca removed his fedora and ran his fingers through his hair before replacing it. “That’s nuts.” Avery nodded in agreement. “Here ya go,” Trace grinned as he handed me a plastic bag filled with cotton candy. He sat beside Luca, across from me, with blue cotton candy. “How do I eat it?” I eyed the fluffy candy. Three sets of eyes looked at me like I was crazy. “Seriously, I don’t know,” I added. Avery giggled. “You grab it, Livie.” She shook her head. “Like this,” she demonstrated, reaching into the bag, and tearing a chunk of the candy fibers. She promptly stuck it in her mouth. “Oh,” I mumbled, embarrassed, and mimicked her action.

The three of them watched me take a bite. I winced at how sugary it tasted. “It’s…okay. Too sweet though,” I tentatively took another bite, licking the threads of candy off that had stuck to my fingers. After a few more bites, I had had my fill, and handed the rest to Avery. “You can have it,” I shoved the mostly uneaten cotton candy in her hands. “You didn’t like it, did you?” Trace chuckled, grabbing a handful of the blue fluff, and shoving it in his mouth. “Tell the truth, Olivia.” “Not really,” I admitted. “It’s not for everyone.” He grinned mischievously. “I, however, have quite the sweet tooth.” He winked. “And you have such a sweet p-” I jumped from the table before anything humiliating could come out of his mouth. “We better get going,” I grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the table. “I don’t want to miss out any of the rides,” I told Luca and Avery. Avery snickered. “Uh-huh. That’s exactly why you’re running off, Livie!” She called after us. “I hate you,” I glared at Trace, but I couldn’t stay mad for more than a few seconds, because a piece of blue cotton candy was stuck to the corner of his lips, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss it away. So, I did. “You say you hate me, and then you kiss me. Woman, I can’t read these mixed messages,” he chuckled, finishing the last bite of cotton candy, and tossing the plastic bag in the nearest trashcan. “It makes me mad when you start spouting about that kind of…” I crossed my arms over my chest, floundering for the right word, “stuff, in public.” “And what stuff would that be?” He grinned. “You know…” I paused. “You were about to say the ‘P’ word,” I hissed under my breath. “What ‘P’ word? Popsicle? Potato? Pistachio?” He raised a brow. “You know exactly which word I’m talking about,” I hissed. “You mean,” he enunciated each word carefully, and leaned down to my ear, “pussy?” “Yes! That one!” I cried, pushing him away with a gentle shove. “Hmm,” he hummed, “but you like it when I lick your pussy and it’s so sweet.” “Oh my God!” I covered my face, wishing I could disappear. “Don’t hide your face,” he grabbed my hands and pried them away. “Why do you say this stuff to me? You know it embarrasses me?” I glared at him. “But you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” he winked, “and it makes your spitfire side come out. I like it when you get all feisty with me.” “You are so weird,” I shook my head, staring at the ground. He lifted my chin. “I’m not weird, but if you like weirdness, I’m sure I can think of a few interesting things for us to try out.” I shook my head rapidly back and forth. “I can assure you, I won’t be trying anything weird.” “Too bad…” He paused. “We got really excited.” “We?” I questioned. “Yes,” he smiled, “we.” He pulled me against him so that our hips were flush and there was no mistaking the bulge in his jeans. My cheeks flamed red. “Trace! We’re at a carnival!” “I know,” he sighed, “and since there’s no way to fix my...” he glanced down significantly, “problem, we better find something to do. What would you like to do next?” He asked, flicking his dark hair off his forehead. I pointed behind him and he turned to look. “The carousel? Really?” He raised a brow. “That’s for like…toddlers.” “I’ve never been on one,” I frowned. “Please?” I begged, making puppy dog eyes. He sighed. “Fine,” he agreed. “But this is gonna hurt,” he glanced down at his pants. “Yay!” I cheered, not at all concerned about Trace’s problem. I was at a carnival, for the first time ever, and I planned on taking full advantage. I ran up to the carousel, giddier than the small children, and hopped on. Trace grumbled under his breath and climbed onto the empty horse beside mine, adjusting himself in his jeans.

The ride started up and I squealed in delight as it spun, and the horses slid up and down the gold metal bar impaling their bodies. People were looking at me weird but I shut them out. I had never been to a carnival before and I wanted to experience all the things I had missed out on as a child. After the carousel, we rode a few more rides, and I insisted on doing the Ferris Wheel again. “We better head back soon,” Trace announced, checking the time on his phone. “Crap!” I exclaimed, seeing how late it was. Trace stopped walking and faced me. “I’m going to win you a prize, because you deserve the whole carnival package, and then I’ll take you home,” he smiled. I nodded. “Okay, that sounds good.” I really wanted him to win me a prize. I knew it was stupid, but that’s what all the guys in the movies did, and I knew I would cherish that prize forever. Trace assessed the different games and picked one where you threw darts to pop balloons. “Are you sure you can do this?” I asked skeptically. “I got this,” he winked. “I have excellent aim, remember. It’s in my blood. I am a Wentworth after all.” I stood back as he spoke with the man running the game. He handed Trace the darts and Trace looked over his shoulder, grinning at me. “Watch this, baby,” he smirked. I stepped forward so I stood beside him. He drew his arm back and let the first dart fly. It connected with the yellow balloon and the pop echoed around us. He successfully popped the remaining balloons. “Told ya,” he snickered. “Pick your prize,” the man working the booth intoned dryly. He looked bored and half asleep. “Which one do you want?” Trace asked, pointing to the various stuffed animals hanging above. There weren’t many options. A giant teddy bear, a blue gorilla, and for some reason there was a stuffed banana. “That one,” I pointed to the gorilla. It was the cutest, with its pale blue wrinkly face, and fluffy body. The guy removed the stuffed animal from the hook and handed it to me. “There ya go,” he waved his hand for us to leave. With a hand on my lower back, Trace guided me to the exit, and then to his car. I sat my giant blue gorilla on my lap. It smelled like popcorn. “Did you have fun?” Trace asked, exiting the parking lot. We passed by the Dairy Queen we had eaten at a few months ago. I nodded my head eagerly. “It was great. I had way more fun than I thought I would. It was nice to have a night out, not worrying about school.” I leaned my head against the headrest and let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe the school year is over in only nine days.” Trace swallowed thickly. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” “Really? What?” I asked, forcing my sleepy eyes to stay open. He cleared his throat and his hands flexed against the steering wheel. “You can’t stay on campus for the summer, and your mom is still living at the Callahan’s…” his fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel, “so…” he paused nervously, “where are you planning to live?” He glanced at me anxiously. “I figured, I’d stay at the Callahan’s as well,” I shrugged. “You know I got that job at the jewelry store in old town, that starts in two weeks, and Resa was able to get my mom a job at the hospital. My mom and I are hoping that by the end of the summer, with our combined incomes, we’ll be able to rent a place.” “What if you didn’t have to rent a place?” His green eyes flicked my way for a moment. “I don’t understand,” I shook my head. “What are you saying?” I was pretty positive I knew where he was going with this, but I needed to hear him say it. I had to know for sure. “Move in with me,” he stated, like it was that easy. “Trace,” I gasped, “I can’t do that.” “Why not?” His brow furrowed together when he looked at me. “You spend most of your free time at my place, anyway. Move in.” “I-I-” I stammered. I didn’t know what to say to him. Moving in together was a huge step. It was a step in our relationship I wasn’t sure either of us was ready for. I mean, he’d never told me that he

loved me. True, I hadn’t told him either, and I did love him. I wanted to tell him, badly. I had come close to spilling out those three little words, several times, but always held back. I needed to hear him say them first. I knew it would break me if I confessed my feelings, and he didn’t return them. He parked in front of the dorm, forcing a smile. His green eyes were sad. “Just think about it, Olivia. Please?” “I can do that,” I nodded. “Thank you,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss me chastely. With my blue gorilla in tow, I made a slow procession up to my room. I was so confused about what to do. Trace had thrown a wrench in my plans and I only had nine days to decide what I was going to do.

I sat down at a table in Starbucks, and unwrapped the paper from the green straw, sticking it into my Frappuccino. I took a sip of the caramel goodness. Avery stirred the whipped cream into her drink, eyeing me. “Spill girl, I know you’re worried about something.” Avery hadn’t come back to the dorm last night, from the carnival, so I hadn’t had a chance to tell her about Trace wanting me to move in. For a distraction, I wiped the condensation forming on the clear plastic cup. I decided to bite the bullet and tell her. There was no point in putting this off. She was my best friend, and right now, she was the only person I could confide in. “Trace wants me to move in.” “What!?” She shrieked, earning us glares from the staff and patrons. I nodded. “He told me last night.” “What did you say?” She asked, wiping a dribble of Frappuccino from her lip. “I said I would think about it,” I mumbled, removing the straw from my cup, and licking off the whipped cream. “How do you feel about this? Living together is a big deal,” she remarked, pulling her red hair back into a ponytail. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I don’t want to rush our relationship, you know?” “I totally understand,” she leaned forward and bit down on the green straw. “If Luca asked me to move in with him, I’d give him the middle finger, and tell him to fuck himself.” “That’s because you’re a commitment-phobe,” I pointed an accusing finger at her. “Damn straight,” she winked, slurping her Frapp. “But you are not.” “Ugh,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands, and shaking my head. “I don’t know what to do!” “Go with your gut,” she shrugged. “My gut’s never steered me wrong.” The espresso machine whistled beside us. I took a deep breath. “I think it might be a good idea but my mom-” “No buts,” Avery interjected. “You have to do what’s right for you. Your mom will be fine. She can get her own place. Although, I’m sure my brother would be willing to get an apartment with her,” she snickered. “That’s not funny!” I exclaimed. “I wasn’t trying to be,” she laughed. That only made it worse. I shook my head back and forth. “I’m so confused.” “Why are you confused?” She asked, tilting her head. “You said you thought it would be a good idea to live with lover boy. If that’s how you feel, then that’s what you should do,” she reasoned. “I know I shouldn’t talk, because I haven’t been in many long-term relationships, but you can’t judge everything

by a timeline,” she shrugged, taking a sip of her Frappuccino. “Love doesn’t work that way. When it’s right, it’s right, and when it’s not, it’s not.” I was taken aback. When had Avery become so wise? I began to look under the table and over my shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?” Avery questioned with a short laugh. “I’m looking for my best friend. Her name is Avery. She’s about this tall,” I raised my hand up to Avery’s height, “has red hair, and never says anything wise.” She scoffed. “I can be wise!” I gave her a look that said, ‘Oh, really?’ “Joke all you want,” she stuck her nose in the air, “but what I said is true.” “I know,” I laughed, “that’s why I couldn’t believe you said it.” She tossed the wadded up paper from her straw at me and it got caught in the waves of my hair. I pulled it out and dropped it onto the lacquered wood top. “So, you’re going to move in with him, right?” She picked a chocolate chip off the rim of her cup and licked it off her finger. I fiddled with my hands. “Yeah, I am.”

My last class of the year came to an end and I grinned to myself as I walked out of the classroom. Only two more years to go and I would have my degree. I walked along the sidewalk, with a skip in my step, humming a song under my breath. Trace was supposed to meet me at the dorm so I wasn’t surprised when I caught sight of his lean form lounged against the brick building. I took a moment to take in the sight of him. His dark hair had been recently cut so it no longer fell into his eyes. Stubble dotted his jaw and cheeks. His elegant nose was rounded on the end and his lips were a perfect cupid’s bow. Long thick eyelashes emphasized his green eyes. He wore his red plaid shirt unbuttoned over a wife-beater, with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his toned forearms. His hands were large and always swallowed mine. Today, he was wearing a pair of khaki shorts, and instead of his usual combat boots, he wore Nike tennis shoes. My eyes ventured back up and connected with his. I blushed at being caught. “Like what you see?” He asked, fighting a smile. “Just…enjoying the view,” I mumbled. “Uh-huh,” he chuckled, striding forward the few feet that separated us. “There’s some drool there, on your lip,” he pointed. I swatted his hand away. “Trace!” I groaned in embarrassment. He chuckled. “We better hurry, we don’t have much time.” “To go where?” I questioned. Trace had told me we were celebrating my last day of classes but that was all he had said. “Olivia,” he whispered my name huskily, guiding me to his car. “I can’t tell you that.” “Oh,” I drew out the word. “We’re doing something on my list,” I stated. “Mhmm,” he murmured, opening the passenger door for me. I leaned back, ticking through what was left on my list, but it didn’t help me figure out what we’d be doing. Trace parked in an open field and my eyes zeroed in on a group of people standing around. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Just wait,” he smiled. I followed him towards the people, looking around for anything that would tip me off. My eyes lit on a large basket and rainbow colored fabric spread out in the grass. “Oh my God!” I stopped in my tracks. “We’re going in a hot air balloon!” Trace laughed at my reaction. The people turned to look at me, chuckling as well. “You’re the best boyfriend ever!” I squealed, jumping into Trace’s arms, kissing him. “Whoa there,” Trace chuckled, pulling away from my monkey-like embrace. “I didn’t know the hot air balloon would make you this excited.” “I’m sorry,” I blushed, steepling my hands in front of my face. “When I made the list, this was one of

the things I was most excited to do, but figured I’d never have the chance.” “Well,” he smiled, “here’s your chance.” I squealed again and the men gathered around the hot air balloon laughed. “Normally, the girl is scared to death to get in one of these,” one of the men remarked. “Not my Olivia,” Trace grinned, throwing his arm over my shoulders as we stepped towards the guys. “She’s one of a kind.” He kissed my nose. “Ya wanna help?” Another man asked. He was older with graying hair and a heavy beard. His brown eyes were warm and caring. “We can help?!” I gushed. “Of course,” he replied in his gruff voice, waving his hand for me to join him, “it’s all a part of the experience.” “Eeeek!” I squeaked and went to help him. I think my behavior was embarrassing Trace but I was too excited to care. This was going to be way better than the Ferris Wheel and I had thought that was awesome. The older man introduced himself as Richard and the other three men were his sons, Kasey, Jackson, and Matt. Richard owned the business and was in charge of flying the balloon while his sons were the chasers. Since, when you went up in a balloon, you never knew exactly where you were going to land, it was the chasers job to follow the balloon to give us a lift back here, to our starting point. “Ya always have to land in an open field,” Richard explained. “Any open land will do as long as ya have permission from the owner to land there. But that’s the beauty of these things,” he tapped the basket, “ya never know which way the wind will blow ya. Kinda like life.” I smiled at his words. I had instantly taken a liking to the older man. He was kind and funny. “Alright, y’all,” he waved to Trace and me, “get on in here. We’re ‘bout ready to go up.” I ran by Trace, and hopped into the basket, not very lady-like, but I didn’t care. The fire that lifted the balloon roared to life and the heat warmed my face. The ginormous rainbow balloon rose above us, its stripes running up and down. I gazed above me at the inside of the balloon, blown away by the sheer size of it. They looked small, when you saw them up in the sky, but in person…they were breathtaking due to their massive size. “I’m beginning to regret this decision,” Trace muttered as the basket lifted off the ground. Richard chuckled and clapped him on the back. “Don’t be a sissy, boy, it’s only a few feet.” I laughed at Trace, and gripped the edge of the basket, peering below us as the people on the ground grew smaller and smaller. I saw the cars zoom by on the highways that intersected neighborhoods and farmlands. The straight lines of the farm plots were beautiful to see from above. Little black dots were scattered around the grassy area and I marveled at how small the cows looked from this high. “Special occasion?” Richard asked us. “Nah,” Trace explained, “we wanted to do something different.” “We don’t get a lot of young folks comin’ to us, unless there’s a proposal,” Richard chortled. Trace choked on his saliva. “Nope, no proposal, sir.” Richard’s chuckle echoed through the air around us. “Ya don’t need to get all worked up, boy. Ya look like ya can’t breathe.” “Sorry,” Trace mumbled and I looked over my shoulder at his red face. I laughed at his expression of terror and went back to sightseeing. “Isn’t she a beauty?” Richard voiced. “The Shenandoah Valley.” “It’s beautiful,” I agreed. The fire that propelled the balloon quickly beaded sweat on my neck. “Oh my gosh!” I gasped, peering below us. “Trace! Look at the deer!” I pointed to a cluster of five deer running through a field. They were hard to see but their elegant gait gave them away. “Totally awesome,” Trace replied. I turned around, and he was still in the same spot, near the middle of the basket. “Trace! You didn’t even look!” “I’m perfectly fine over here. There’s no reason for me to stand so close to the edge where I could possibly fall to my death,” he mumbled. “Oh, so it’s okay for me to fall to my death?” I raised a brow.

“No,” he chuckled. “I’d prefer that you were over here with me. But seeing as I doubt you’d come over here willingly, and I’m sure as hell not moving, we have a conundrum.” “Fine,” I turned back around so that I wasn’t missing any of the view. “But you’re really missing out.” I looked down at the tips of the green trees and the birds flying nearby. We had been in the air for about an hour and the sun was beginning to set. On the ground, sunsets were beautiful, but in the air they were breathtaking. We were swathed in hues of orange, pink, red, and even purple. It felt like we had become a part of the sunset. “We gotta land now,” Richard announced. I frowned. I didn’t want it to end. This was one of the greatest days of my life. We came to an open field and Richard lowered the balloon. It touched down shakily and Trace immediately hopped out, walking back and forth. Richard began the process of dismantling the balloon while we waited for the chasers. “Are you okay?” I asked, climbing out after Trace. I put a hand on his back, between his shoulder blades, trying to soothe him. “I am never doing anything like that again,” he declared, shaking his head rapidly back and forth. “I’m not scared of much,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “but that was terrifying.” I instantly felt bad that he had been so uncomfortable while I was enjoying myself. “I’m sorry-” “Don’t apologize,” he cut me off and ceased his pacing. “I’m glad you were able to experience that and I would have never wanted to stay on the ground and miss out on the smile on your face. Planes, I can do. Open baskets that teeter back and forth? Not so much,” he grinned, cupping my cheek. “I’m glad you were with me but-” He pressed his index finger over my lips. “No buts. We’re not going there.” I sighed. Trace’s stubborn side was rearing its head. “Fine,” I grumbled and pushed his hand away from my mouth. The chasers arrived and they hopped out of the truck to help Richard with the balloon. We rode back, joking and laughing. I really liked all four of the men. They were funny and easy to get along with. They kept picking on Trace for being scared, much to his chagrin. It was late when we made it back to the starting point and got into his Charger. I yawned as the calming roar of the engine threatened to make me fall asleep. “Wanna stay at my place tonight?” He asked, flipping his headlights on, and merging onto the road. “Sure,” I replied, leaning my head against the glass window. “I have another thing we can cross off your list, tonight,” he grinned smugly. “Oh no,” I groaned, as dread settled in my stomach. “I’m afraid.” “It’s going to be so much better than the hot air balloon…at least, for me it is,” he winked.

“You have got to be kidding me?” I stared at the DVD in my hand. A scantily clad girl posed on the front, leaning against a tall metal pole. In large pink font across the top, it said: Learn How to Pole Dance in 5 Easy Steps. “I’m not kidding,” Trace grinned, nodding his head eagerly. “Pole dancing is on your list, Olivia,” he reminded me. Why the hell had I ever wanted to do that? “I’m tired,” I whined, in the hopes of a reprieve. “Nope, no way. That isn’t going to work. You’re doing this,” he declared, taking the DVD from me, popping the disk out, and into the DVD player. Some cheesy music began to play as the main menu popped up. “There’s not even a pole!” I cried. “Ah!” He held a finger triumphantly in the air. Obviously, he had been prepared for me to say that. “This,” he grabbed the slim metal support column, “is your pole.” “I’m going to bruise my butt!” I glared at him with arms crossed over my chest. “Then I’ll ice your cute ass for you,” he lightly smacked the rounded curves. He wasn’t going to let me talk my way out of this. “Fine,” I grumbled, “hit play and watch me break my butt.”

I listened to the girl’s instructions and tried to mimic her moves on my makeshift pole. “Take your shirt off!” Trace cat-called as he leaned against the wall, watching me. “You take your shirt off,” I snapped, embarrassed that this pole-dancing thing was harder than it looked. You had to have some major up body strength to pull off those moves, and I was a weakling. “I will if you will,” he smiled cockily. “Then do it,” I glared at him, trying to twirl around the pole. He removed both of his shirts and I immediately regretted telling him to take them off. His chest was too big of a distraction. No man should be that lean and muscled. The trail of hair leading from his naval to below his jeans was calling my name. I wanted to run my fingers down his chest and explore further. “Your turn,” he smirked, biting on his lip. I let go of the pole, and yanked my shirt off, throwing the garment at his head. “Happy now?” I asked, as he pulled the fabric away from his face. “Very,” he licked his lips, looking me up and down. I thanked the lingerie gods that I wasn’t wearing a frumpy jog bra like I did on most days I had classes. I wasn’t wearing anything lacy or super sexy but at least I didn’t look like a grandma or something. I tried to shimmy my way up the pole but it wasn’t working. I let out an exaggerated groan. “You know,” Trace chuckled, “in my mind, this was a whole lot hotter.” “I’m sure it was,” I retorted, “so keep on imagining it.” Finally, I gave up on following the crappy instructions the girl in the video was spewing, and did my own thing. I tried my hardest to make myself look sexy but I wasn’t sure I was succeeding. When I caught sight of Trace’s erection tenting his shorts, I figured I was doing something right. I shimmied around the metal column that served as my pole, and a hand snaked out, grabbing me around the waist. Trace pulled me against his bare chest, and plastered his mouth against mine, before I had the chance to shriek. My body automatically responded, curving into his. One of his hands tangled in my long hair while the other rested against my back. His hands slid to my waist and he walked backwards towards the couch, collapsing onto the cushions with me straddling him. I cupped his cheeks in my palms, my fingers delving into his hair. He pulled my bottom lip between his teeth and let it go with an audible pop. I moaned, rotating my hips against his. With skillful fingers, he undid the clasp holding my bra in place, and pulled the fabric from my body. He palmed my breasts in his hands before taking one in his mouth. I arched my back, biting down painfully on my lip to contain the mewling sounds that wanted to escape. I buried my face into his neck, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Trace. The fresh woodsy scent of his soap clung to his skin, along with the scent of motor oil, and leather. He released my breast and I found myself flat on my back, on the couch, with him hovering above me. His eyes were a dark lust-filled green. His chest rose and fell heavily with every shaky breath he took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to pull him to me but he was too heavy. “Please,” I begged. He closed his eyes, and wet his lips, his jaw tightening. His right hand fisted my jean shorts and he flicked the button open. The zipper slid down and I lifted my hips so he could pull them off. He suckled my neck, whispering, “I can’t resist you.” I felt exactly the same. From the moment I met Trace, he was my undoing. He sat up and grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out a condom. The rest of our clothes disappeared and he sunk inside me. “God, you feel so fucking good,” he moaned into my ear. I kissed his chest and my body arched against his. I felt like I was an instrument and Trace knew how to pluck all the right strings to make my body sing. He licked a wet trail between my breasts and circled his tongue around one of my nipples, drawing it into his mouth, and suckling. The sensation shot waves of pleasure straight to my core and my muscles tightened around him. “Oh, God, Olivia,” he panted, releasing the taught peak from his lips, and quickening his pace as he rubbed his thumb over my clit.

My fingernails dug into his arms and my toes curled. He sealed my mouth with his and his tongue flicked lightly against mine. My hands skimmed up his smooth back and settled in his hair. My eyes closed and my body tightened. Trace drew back from my lips, and even though my eyes were closed, I felt his burning into me. My neck arched and I whimpered as my body shook underneath him. “Beautiful,” he murmured, “you’re so incredibly beautiful.” I opened my eyes, in time to watch the expression of bliss tear across his face. He peppered small kisses all over my face and slipped from body. I closed my eyes again, too drained to move. I heard him pad across the floor to the kitchen to throw away the condom. A moment later, he was back, picking me up, and carrying me to bed. He curled his naked body around mine and I smiled contently.

I awoke in bed alone but the sounds and smells of breakfast being made could be heard outside Trace’s bedroom. I sat up, inhaling the scent of freshly cooked bacon. My stomach immediately began to rumble, reminding me that with the excitement of yesterday, I hadn’t eaten dinner. I rolled out of bed, dressed in a tank top, and a pair of Trace’s old boxers. I padded out into the open kitchen, and living area, taking a seat on one the stools. I rested my elbows on the raised bar, watching the drool-worthy sight of Trace making breakfast in only his boxers. “Hungry?” He asked. “Starving,” I replied, watching the way his hands and arm muscles flexed as he flipped an egg in the skillet. It still amazed me that Trace was such a skilled cook. He slid a plate with a fried egg, biscuit, and two pieces of bacon my way, along with a fork and glass of orange juice. He fixed a plate for himself and sat on the stool beside me. “Thank you,” I smiled at him, “for yesterday. The balloon ride was amazing.” “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said genuinely. “I like seeing you happy like that…” He paused. “When you’re carefree and don’t care what anyone thinks,” he elaborated. “It’s nice sometimes to be…free,” I replied. “So,” he cleared his throat and sipped at his juice to stall, “have you—uh—thought any about what I asked you?” “About moving in?” I questioned. He nodded. “I have,” I answered simply. “Annnnnnnd?” He drew out the word. “As long as you’re truly okay with me living here, then yes, I’ll move-” His arms wrapped around me and he kissed me soundly. “I’m so happy that you’re gonna move in,” he brushed strands of my hair away from my face. “My space is your space. My stuff is your stuff. Anything that’s mine, baby, it’s yours.” I thought that was quite the declaration for someone that hadn’t said, ‘I love you’, yet, but I chose not to comment. “So, you’re really okay with this?” I asked. I didn’t want to pack all of my things, and move in here, only to have him change his mind a week later, and ask me to leave. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure,” he took his seat once more. “Okay,” I smiled widely. “We have to be out of the dorms by Friday.” That was only two days away and I hadn’t done a lot of packing. My procrastinator side had decided to rear its ugly head. “I’ll make room for all of your things,” he promised. “Thanks,” I watched him from the corner of my eye, looking for any sign that he was unsure of us

living together, but it was obvious that he was pleased about this. His lips kept turning up in a smile. I was happy too…but scared at the same time. Our relationship was going so well, but despite my gut and what Avery had said, I wasn’t sure if almost seven months of dating was long enough to know someone was your forever. But damn, if I didn’t believe that anyway.

Trace dropped me off at the dorms after breakfast since I had plans to have lunch with my mom. I showered and dressed for the day and spent some time packing before I had to meet her. Since my mom was now living nearby we tried to get together at least once a week. With her new job, and classes winding down, it had been two weeks since I had seen her. I glanced at the clock on our dorm wall and jumped up. I should’ve picked my mom up twenty minutes ago, since she didn’t have a car yet. I grabbed my keys and bag, dashing outside, and drove to Avery’s house. I called my mom on the way, apologizing for letting the time get away from me. When I pulled into the Callahan’s driveway, she was already waiting outside. “I’m so sorry,” I told her as she climbed into my old blue Ford Focus. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she smiled. “I know you have a lot of packing to do.” I nodded, nervous about having to tell her that our plan to live together wasn’t going to work anymore. “Where do you want to eat?” I asked her. “How about T.G.I. Fridays? Don’t they have an area to eat outside? It’s so nice today that I’d like to be outdoors,” she suggested. “That works for me,” I shrugged. I loved being outside, rain or shine, hot or cold. The restaurant was fairly busy but we only had to wait five minutes so it wasn’t too bad. The red umbrella shaded us from the brunt of the sun. The humidity in Virginia could kill you, I swear. Some days, it felt like you were walking through a thick wall of steam. A waiter came and took our orders, and when he disappeared, I slipped my sunglasses into my hair and eyed my mom. “You look like you have something to say?” She sipped her ice water, eyeing me over the glass. “Um, yeah,” I looked down, fiddling with the strands of my hair, searching for split-ends. “So, what is it?” She questioned. “Um,” I wet my lips, “you see…Trace…he…um…he asked me to move in with him, and I said yes,” I cringed. “Oh, honey, that’s great!” She reached for my hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Really? You’re not mad?” I brightened, the anxiety draining from my body. I had been worrying unnecessarily since I had made my decision. “Of course not,” she scooted the metal patio chair back so she could see me better. “I understand completely. He’s your boyfriend, and you need to further your life with him, not worry about me.” “Still…I feel bad,” I admitted, adding sugar to my tea, and using my straw to mix in the granules. After what happened with Aaron, I felt responsible for my mom. “Don’t,” she demanded. “I’m fine. I’m doing great at the hospital. They’ve already been hinting that if I keep up the good work, I could possibly be considered for a promotion,” she explained, excitedly. “That’s great, mom!” I exclaimed. It was so nice to see her starting a life of her own, where she was able to do what she wanted. “And,” she took a deep breath, “with Resa’s help, I’m seeing a lawyer next week to discuss my options for leaving Aaron. I was scared to do it earlier, but I’m ready for a divorce. It’s been five months since I left,” she took a deep breath. “I need to completely cut my ties with him and that life,” she swished her hands through the air in a cutting motion. “I’m ready to move on and I can’t do that if I’m still tied to Aaron.” “I understand completely,” I grinned, so incredibly proud of her. She had come a long ways in only five months. There had been a change in her almost immediately, but the differences, now, were drastic. Sometimes, it was hard to recognize her as my mom. She seemed so much younger and vibrant now. Her skin glowed and her hair shined. But the biggest change, in my mind at least, was the fact that she smiled and laughed all the time, which were two things she never did while she was

with Aaron. She smiled gratefully at me. “I’m so lucky I have you, Olivia. You’re the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.” “Mom,” I groaned, “you’re just saying that.” “No, I’m not,” she shook her head forcefully. “I always wanted a daughter and I never imagined that I would have one as strong as you,” she reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re a fighter, Liv. I know you don’t see yourself that way, but you are. Most kids,” she swallowed thickly, “that grow up with someone like Aaron as a ‘father’ don’t turn out well. It usually pushes them over the edge and they let it affect everything about them. But not you, Liv.” Her words pleased me. That had always been one of my biggest fears. That the way I had been treated by my so-called father had caused me to lose my grip on who I really was. But it hadn’t. I was…me. I was shy and quiet, but passionate, and as Trace liked to say, I had my spitfire side. “Thanks mom,” I smiled at her, sliding my sunglasses back down to hide my eyes from the bright sun. Our food was brought out and we continued to talk. “Is there—uh—anything going on with you and Nick?” I asked. The words tumbled from my mouth of their own accord, but I was curious. The pink staining my mom’s cheeks told me all I needed to know. “He’s just a friend,” she picked at a fry. “Uh-huh,” I smirked, not buying her statement. “Honestly,” she added. It may have only been five months since she left New Hampshire and Aaron behind, but I felt that if she was ready to move on, then she should…even if she was moving on with someone who could be my brother. It was gross, but my mom had been through so much that she deserved to find love, in whomever she wanted. “Mom, don’t lie to me,” I smiled at her to ease my words. I wanted her to understand that I wasn’t judging. Heck, I was moving in with my boyfriend and neither of us had said those three very important words. “If there’s something going on with you two, you can tell me. I’m not here to judge you. I want you to be happy,” I added. She sighed, staring across the road at the rows of shops and eateries. “I have no idea what’s going on with Nick,” she answered honestly. “While he was home, we spent a lot of time together. He’s nice and wonderful to talk to,” she smiled wistfully and I wondered if she was thinking of Derek, my real father. “He doesn’t seem as young as his age suggests. He’s insanely smart and I love talking with him about whatever. Since he went back to school, we’ve been talking on the phone…a lot,” she added reluctantly. “I really like him, but he’s young and has his whole life ahead of him. There’s nothing that I can offer him,” she shrugged, motioning the waiter over for a refill of water. “He deserves someone young and vibrant. Not someone like me who’s been hardened by life.” “Everyone deserves happiness,” I told her. “We’re only here once.” She smiled. “I’ll see where things go with Nick, but I doubt it will go far. There’s no need to pick out bride’s maid dresses if that’s what you’re afraid of.” “Okay,” I laughed. “No bride’s maid dresses.” We spent the rest of the afternoon together before I dropped her off. I returned to my dorm to finish packing. I didn’t have much ‘stuff’ so I spent most of the time packing my clothes. Avery returned around six in the evening and cursed. “Shit! I haven’t packed anything yet!” I looked over at the clutter covering every surface of her side of the room. If I wasn’t in such a good mood, I would’ve never offered, but I found myself opening my mouth, and saying, “I can help you.” I taped my last box shut. “You can?” Her eyes widened. “You’re a life saver, Livie!” I packed her things neatly into boxes, while Avery dumped things in them. “You know,” I smiled at her, “you’re only making things harder on yourself, in the long run, tossing things in like that.” “Whatever,” she shook her head, grabbing a pencil cup, and dropping it into a box. Since I wouldn’t have to help her unpack, I shut my mouth. “Did you tell lover boy you decided to move in?” She asked. “Mhmm,” I nodded. “I told him yesterday after the hot air balloon ride.”

“Hot air balloon ride!” She screamed. “You went in one those! I would’ve shit my pants!” “I’ve always wanted to do it,” I shrugged, folding a pair of her jeans, and added it to the box in front of me. “You’re nuts!” She exclaimed, abandoning the box she was packing, to look at me. I could never get in one of those!” She shuddered. “I hate flying. I’d have a heart attack if I had to get in one of those tiny baskets,” she shook her head and started packing again. “It was amazing,” I smiled fondly at the memory. “Everything looked so beautiful,” I gushed. “You are a freak of nature, Livie,” she laughed. “Heights don’t bother me,” I replied. “Trace didn’t like it too much,” I giggled, closing the box, and taping it shut. “I’m Team Trace all the way,” she fist pumped the air. “Not Team Crazy Livie,” she tossed the box she had filled onto the floor. I was surprised it didn’t split open from the force. “I’m not crazy,” I defended. “You are,” she smiled. “No sane person would willingly get in one of those things. But I’m happy you had fun.” “Thanks,” I smiled, filling another box. I looked around, hoping we had made a sizable dent in packing her stuff, but it looked like we had done nothing. I groaned. “We’re going to be up all night packing.” She winked. “I’ll get the coffee.”

Since residence halls closed today, I loaded my car up with boxes, and drove to Trace’s apartment. I couldn’t fit everything in my small car so I knew I would have to make at least one more trip. Trace was leaning against the outside wall of the garage, chatting with Luca, who was puffing on a cigarette. Trace was shirtless since it was such a hot day and his perfect body was drenched in a light coating of sweat. My eyes perused over his tattoos. I loved his tattoos and how they revealed little bits of information about him. I especially loved the one over his heart that expressed how much he loved his dad. I parked and Trace left Luca to greet me. “I see boxes,” he grinned, nodding at the interior of my car, “I was afraid you might change your mind.” “No,” I shook my head, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him tenderly. “Let me help you with those,” he gently pushed me aside and lowered my driver’s seat so he could reach the boxes. “Don’t you have to work?” I nodded towards the garage. “Nah,” he shook his head, lifting one of the boxes out, “I asked Pete for the afternoon off.” “Oh,” I mouthed, and reached for a box, following him up the staircase to his apartment. He opened the door and gently placed my box on the floor. I positioned the one I held on top. “You have to have all your stuff out of your dorm room tonight, right?” Trace asked. “Yep,” I nodded. “I have something we need to do, so how about I shower, and we’ll go do it, then pick up the rest of your stuff. Is that okay with you?” He questioned. “Sounds great,” I smiled and turned to head back for another box. Trace carried the last box in and went to take his shower. While he was doing that, I decided to get a head start on unpacking. I placed my items in neat stacks on the floor, figuring Trace would tell me where to put my stuff later. The bathroom door squeaked open and I looked over my shoulder, watching him step out of the bathroom with a simple gray towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets clung to his hair and skin, causing me to lick my lips. I thought Trace was drool-worthy all the time, it didn’t matter what he was doing, working, making breakfast, you name it, he looked like sex on a stick while doing it. But nothing beat a naked and wet, Trace, fresh out of the shower. He chuckled, smiling cockily at me. “If you keep looking at me like that,” he warned, “we’re not going

anywhere.” I turned away hastily. “Suit yourself,” he crooned as he made his way to the bedroom, the scent of his woodsy soap lingering behind him. I crushed the empty boxes and leaned them against the wall, beside the door, so that I could drop them in the dumpster later. I turned around, and Trace was coming out of the bedroom, shrugging into one of his trusty plaid shirts. “Ready?” He asked, flattening the collar. “Yeah,” I picked up the crushed boxes. We walked down the steps, to his car, and I dropped the boxes into the large blue dumpster. “Hey there little lady,” a raspy voice said from behind the dumpster. I squealed, jumping back, and fell over a small rock. My butt hit the ground and the air whizzed out of my throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya,” a person appeared, accompanying the voice. He was a small man, about my height, with a hooked back that made him appear even shorter. His white hair was wispy and a white goatee adorned his chin. The blue jumper he wore hung loose on his small frame. When I met his eyes, I found that they were a unique shade of gray. He smiled, showing off yellowed crooked teeth. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking to the ground and stomped it out with the toe of his boot. Wiping a greasy hand on his jumper, he held it out to me, to help me up. “I’m Pete.” So this was Pete. I had never seen him around here. In fact, I hadn’t met most of the employees. They had usually left by the time I met Trace at the garage. “Olivia,” I took his dirty hand to be polite, hoping I hid my cringe. Despite his age and obvious frailty, he lifted me easily from the ground with little help on my part. “You’re Trace’s girl,” he stated. I nodded, wiping the back of my jeans free of dirt and gravel. “He talks about you all the time,” Pete tapped out another cigarette. “Nice to finally meet you.” “Nice to meet you too,” I replied, smiling at the older man. I waved goodbye as I backed away and headed towards the car. Trace was adjusting the volume on the stereo when I slid inside the Charger. “What took you so long? I thought you were throwing away boxes?” He questioned, pulling onto the road. “I ran into Pete,” I shrugged. “Ah, I see,” Trace chuckled, changing gears in the car, “and what did you think of good ole’ Pete?” “He’s nice,” I shrugged. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen him before now, though.” “Pete doesn’t get around as well as he used to,” Trace explained, navigating through traffic. “He usually only comes in to make sure we’re getting our work done. He misses working on cars, it’s been hard on him, but his arthritis really affects his mobility.” “Aww,” I frowned. “Poor Pete.” “He’s a great guy,” Trace added. “I’ll always be indebted to him, for giving me a chance. My—uh—last name, made people reluctant to hire me,” he scratched the back of his head nervously. “They all thought I was some hotshot playboy who wasn’t serious about a job, but Pete didn’t look at me that way,” he smiled wistfully. “He took a chance on me when no one else would and even let me rent the apartment above the garage.” I saw in the fierceness of his words, how much Trace cared for Pete, and I found it endearing. Most people looked at Trace and thought, ‘Cocky bad boy,’ at first glance. But there were so many other layers to Trace underneath his smug exterior. He cared so deeply for the ones he loved and I admired that about him. I knew Trace would go to the ends of the Earth and back to help someone he loved. I realized that I knew the real Trace. He could be cocky and arrogant, but at the end of the day, he was always sweet and attentive. He turned onto a narrow road that led back to a brick building. Unfortunately, I had missed the sign. “We have to hurry, they’ll be closing for the evening soon,” Trace explained, hurrying out of the car. I followed after him and up to the blue door. When we stepped inside, we were greeted to the musty smell of the old building, mixed with the sounds of cats meowing and dogs barking. “Since,” Trace grinned, “you agreed to live with me, I thought now would be the perfect time for us to add to our little family.”

Tears stung my eyes at his words. He pushed open the swinging door. The dogs immediately jumped up and started clawing at their cages, desperate for attention. I made sure to talk lovingly to each one. I didn’t want any of the ‘puppies’ to be left out from my affections. The last cage we came to appeared to be empty at first glance. Slowly, a small form crept forward and a small black lab puppy peered up at us with gray eyes. He looked so sad and I noticed that he held his front left paw up slightly. A woman came in from another door, her hair frazzled. She looked exhausted. “That one there likes you,” she pointed to the black puppy. “He came in two days ago and we’ve had quite the struggle with him. He was found alongside the road with injuries that are obviously from being beat.” “Aw,” my heart broke for the puppy peering up at me. “He’s been sittin’ in that corner, wouldn’t come out. Normally the puppies go really fast around here, but nobody’s taken to him.” I frowned, looking at the sweet black dog. His eyes peered up at me and I felt like he was begging me to take him home and love him forever, which I would. “I want him,” I stated, not caring if Trace agreed. “I’ll get the paperwork ready,” she smiled, pleased. “Y’all can get him out and play.” I eagerly opened the cage and sat on the floor. The puppy didn’t want to play though. He immediately climbed onto my lap, struggling with his long gangly legs, and collapsed with his eyes closed. “He likes you,” Trace chuckled. “I think I have some competition now.” He squatted beside me and petted the puppy’s head. The puppy relaxed against Trace’s touch, lovingly rolling over to get his belly rubbed. I giggled. “I think he likes you.” “What’s not to like?” Trace scoffed. “I’m wonderful.” He petted the dog for a few more minutes and asked, “What should we name him?” I bit my lip. “I was thinking Ace.” “Ace,” Trace repeated, rolling the name around his tongue like someone sampling wine. “It’s perfect.” Ten minutes later, the lady came to tell us everything was ready. We filled out the paperwork and Trace handed them cash for the adoption fee. “Good luck y’all,” she called as we left. From there, we headed straight to the local PetSmart. I carried Ace inside, clutched to my chest. Trace grabbed a shopping cart and we made our way to the dog section. He grabbed two bags of dog food; the same one Ace had been eating at the SPCA, and added them to the cart. We picked out a heaping pile of toys, a cushion, bowls, and leash. Lastly, I picked up a braided light blue and gray collar. We checked out and Trace got tokens for the machine that made nametags. We agreed on the silver dog bone shaped tag and Trace entered all the information in. Within a minute, the nametag was made. “Well, Ace,” I cooed to the dog as we strolled outside, “I certainly hope we’re not forgetting anything.” Trace laughed, pointing to the overflowing cart. “We better not be.” Ace slept in my lap as we stopped by the dorm to pick up the last of my boxes. All of Avery’s things were gone already. Trace grabbed the two remaining boxes while I glanced around the room in nostalgia. I looked back, one last time as I closed the dorm room door, feeling as if I was closing a door on a chapter of my life.

I brought Ace inside after doing his business and smoothed my hands over my dress clothes. I was starting my first day at the local jewelry store. It wasn’t too far from Trace’s—our—apartment. I still wasn’t quite used to the fact that his place, was now our place. “You look nice, babe,” Trace grinned, stepping out of the bedroom, in jeans and a wife-beater. “Thanks,” I smiled, and my stomach rolled nervously. “You’ll do great,” he assured me when my smile turned into a grimace. “You have nothing to worry about.” “I don’t want to do something wrong,” I passed Trace, and stepped into the bedroom, grabbing a pair of black flats from the bottom of the closet. I padded into the living room, slipping on my flats, and found Trace drinking a bottle of water. He screwed the cap back on and eyed me. “What could you possibly do wrong?” He raised a brow. “You’re selling jewelry.” “I could enter the price in the register wrong or-” “You are really overthinking this,” he tossed the empty water bottle into the recycling bin and wrapped a hand around my waist. “Just relax,” he murmured soothingly, running his lips over the curve of my ear. My eyes fluttered closed as his stubble tickled my skin deliciously. He pulled away slightly and his green eyes bore into me. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll bring you lunch,” he suggested. “I don’t know,” my hands tangled in his shirt. “I make a delicious ham sandwich, you know you want one,” he crooned, skimming his nose along my jaw. “I think, knowing you were going to show up, would only make me more nervous,” I admitted. “Alright, fine,” he smiled, his eyes sparkling, “no ham sandwich for you. I’ll eat lunch with Ace.” He pointed to the black puppy sleeping peacefully on the couch. He had grown surprisingly larger in the week that we had had him. Ace seemed to love his new home and I was happy that Trace and I were able to give him that. “I’m sure he’ll be a much more enthusiastic date than I would be,” I joked. “He’s not as cute, that’s for sure,” Trace winked, kissing me soundly. “I’ve got to get to work.” “Me too,” I sighed. I needed to stop stalling. I kissed Trace one last time and hugged Ace goodbye. “You’ll check on Ace, right?” I questioned Trace as he walked me to my car. I was nervous. Since we’d adopted Ace, he hadn’t been left at home alone. We’d bought a crate, for when we were gone, but he hated the thing, so I refused to put him in it. “Of course I will,” Trace promised, kissing the end of my nose. “When the others leave, I’ll bring him down with me.” “Okay,” I nodded, still worried about my hairy baby. “He’ll be fine,” Trace assured me, “and so will you.”

My breath came out ragged from nerves. I hoped I didn’t make a fool of myself on my first day. I waved goodbye to Trace as he watched me leave the parking lot. The drive was a little more than five minutes and I spent the whole time freaking out. I parked behind the building, in one of the spots, Marcy, the owner, had said was reserved for employees. “You can do this, Olivia,” I pepped myself before forcing my unwilling body from the car. I walked up to the back door and paused before entering. The door was painted a bright lime green, and I wondered why I was surprised. Marcy was on the eccentric side. I forced my hand to turn the knob and stepped inside, “Hello?” I called. Marcy had told me she’d leave the door unlocked, and to come inside when I arrived, but it still seemed weird to walk in. “Oh, thank God, you’re here!” Marcy cried, scurrying from the front of the store, to the backroom I had entered. Her blonde hair was dyed every shade of the rainbow on the ends and her clothes were very bohemian. “I’ve been so busy this morning, I haven’t had any time to design. My daughter, Alba, should be here within the hour to help you. I’ll start your training in the meantime,” she smiled. “Great,” I replied, for lack of anything else to say. Marcy handmade all her jewelry and even offered custom designs. It was quite funny actually; she had taken one look at my star necklace, and knew it was one of hers. She had even remembered Trace, oohing and ahhing over him. She had hired me to help work the front of the store so she could spend more time making jewelry. When I had applied, and immediately been hired, her daughter hadn’t been around. But Marcy mentioned that Alba helped her out, although she couldn’t cover many hours. “You can put your purse here,” Marcy pointed to a cubby painted bright neon purple. I did as she told me, sliding my purse into one of the cubbies. The walls in the backroom were a lime green that matched the door I had come through. I knew that the front room, where she sold her designs and had them displayed, was painted bright yellow. “I want you to feel comfortable here, Olivia. There’s no need to be so shy,” she smiled kindly and waved her hand for me to follow her. Thankfully, there were no customers at the moment. Marcy showed me where the key was to open the glass cases so people could try on the necklaces, bracelets, and rings. After that, she showed me how to use the iPad that she used instead of a regular cash register. Everything seemed very straightforward and simple. I immediately started to feel more at ease. Marcy hung around to help me with the first few customers that trickled in. After being successful with all the customers, Marcy felt comfortable enough to leave me on my own. I handled two more customers on my own before Alba showed up. There was no mistaking her as Marcy’s daughter. They both had the same pointed features. Her hair was died black with streaks of crimson and purple. Thick black bangs curtained her forehead and she had a nose ring. Her eyes were a light blue that I was sure was the product of contacts. No one’s eyes were naturally that shade of sky blue. She held out a hand to me. “I’m Alba,” she smiled, showing off straight white teeth. “Olivia,” I replied. “I’m glad my mom was able to get some help. I can’t help her as often as I’d like,” she shrugged. “I recently started my own tattoo business,” she explained. “Oh,” I nodded, “so you’re an artist like your mom, just in a different way.” “Yep, we’re very artsy people,” she nodded, looking around. “You appear to be doing very well for your first day,” she appraised me, hands on her studded belt. “Thanks,” I breathed, relieved that she thought so. “If you think you can handle yourself out here, I’ll go back there, and help my mom out,” she pointed to the beaded curtain that separated the backroom from the front. “I think I’m good,” I smiled. “Awesome,” she clapped her hands together. Her nails were painted black with red skulls drawn on top. “If you need one of us, give a holler.” Alba disappeared behind the curtain and I was left alone once more. At lunchtime, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, wiping my Cheeto stained fingers on a napkin, and smiled at the picture Trace had text. He held Ace in one hand while the other held the phone out. A ham sandwich was clasped between his teeth. I giggled. Miss u. I no ur doing gr8.

I replied back to tell him that he had been right and my first day was going well. Marcy breezed by me with new products to display. “Based on the smile on your face, I’d say you’re talking to your beau.” I paled at being caught. “Sorry,” I mumbled, putting my phone away. “Sweetie, you’re on your lunch break. I don’t mind if you’re texting that fine specimen of man. If you know any more like him, maybe you can send them Alba’s way?” “Mom!” We heard the groan from the back. “I am a smart independent woman, I don’t need a man!” Marcy rolled her eyes and shook her head. “That may be so,” she whispered to me, “but I want some grandchildren before I’m dead.” “Mom! I can still hear you!” Alba called. Marcy and I snickered. “I may know of some guys for Alba,” I shrugged, thinking of Justin and Brian from the tattoo shop. “Really?” Marcy asked, brightening. “Mhmm,” I nodded. “I don’t need a man!” Alba yelled, and a moment later, appeared from behind the beaded curtain. “Well, someone has to clear out the cobwebs in your vagina,” Marcy pointed at her daughter. “Mom!” Alba shrieked, her face coloring an unhealthy shade of red. “Don’t say things like that! It’s disgusting coming from you!” “Oh please, Alba. Don’t be so dramatic. Everyone has sex.” Alba cringed at her mother’s words. “Sex, sex, sex,” Marcy chanted. “I think I’m going to be sick,” Alba frowned, shaking her head back and forth. “You young people can be so ridiculous, acting like us older people have never had sex,” Marcy defended with her hands on her narrow hips. “How do you think you came into this world? A stork?” “Ugh,” Alba groaned, “if you keep this up, I’m leaving.” “Fine, I’ll shut my mouth,” Marcy rearranged some necklaces, “but only because I need your help today.” “Way to make me feel used, mom,” Alba laughed, the beads swishing closed as she returned to the back. “Say hello to that handsome man of yours for me,” Marcy squeezed my arm lightly as she breezed around me. “Oh, and sweetheart, you look nice and all, but there’s no need to be so dressed up. You’re making the owner look bad,” she chuckled. I glanced down at my slacks and dress shirt. “What would you prefer me to wear?” I asked with a smile, amused at my boss. “Jeans, shorts, whatever you want, really. I mean, look at me,” she pointed to her own long skirt and breezy shirt. “Some people might say it’s unprofessional but it’s my business and I’ll run it how I want to,” she said firmly. “Besides, my fashion sense doesn’t seem to keep the buyers away,” she chortled.

The rest of the day went by quickly and Marcy closed the store at five. “I hope your first day wasn’t too bad,” she smiled as she flipped the sign from Open to Closed and lowered the blinds over the glass door. “It was great,” I answered honestly. “So, you’re not sick of us yet?” Marcy asked, pointing to herself and Alba. “Of course not,” I laughed. “You guys are great.” “Phew,” Marcy pretended to wipe sweat from her brow. “I was worried we’d be too much for you to handle and you’d quit.” “Not at all,” I replied, straightening the displays in the glass case. “If you don’t have to get back to that love muffin of yours, would you like to have dinner with us?” Marcy asked. I giggled at her term for Trace. “I don’t have plans, but I don’t want to intrude,” I bit my lip nervously. “I would hate to feel like I’m imposing.” “Nonsense,” Marcy scoffed. “I’m inviting you, how could you be imposing?” “If you’re sure,” I agreed reluctantly, looking between the mother and daughter. “It’ll be fun,” Alba smiled genuinely.

“Alright, I’ll go,” I finally agreed. Between the three of us, we finished cleaning and straightening the store in no time. I grabbed my purse and followed them outside. “We had planned to go to Olive Garden, is that fine with you? If not we can go somewhere else,” Marcy informed me, her rainbow colored hair blowing in the wind. “That’ll be great,” I smiled. “Excellent,” she clapped her hands together and headed towards her car, a bright yellow Fiat. I got in my car and texted Trace to let him know what I was doing so he wouldn’t worry. I met Alba and Marcy at the restaurant that looked like it belonged in the Tuscan countryside with its stone walls and terracotta roof tiles. We had to wait fifteen minutes before being seated but spent the time chatting casually. Somehow, much to my dismay, Marcy always managed to bring the conversation back to Trace. I was beginning to think she was the grown up, hippie version, of Avery. We finished dinner and parted ways. I felt completely at ease and excited for my next day at work.

I unlocked the door to the apartment and giggled at the sight that met me. A song by 3OH!3 was pumping from the iPod dock in the kitchen, and Trace was dancing around the apartment in only his jeans, a bowl of ice cream in one hand. He sang along with the lyrics, trying to coax Ace into dancing with him. The puppy simply cracked his eyes open and promptly went back to sleep. The door closed behind me and he turned around quickly. “Hey, you’re home,” he grinned, spooning a mouthful of chocolate ice cream, his thick-framed black glasses were perched on his nose. “I’m home,” I repeated, smiling as I dropped my purse on the floor. “I’m going to shower.” “Alright, how was dinner?” He licked a smear of ice cream from his lip. “It was great,” I started unbuttoning my blouse as I made my way to the bathroom. “Marcy is awesome, and her daughter, Alba, is great too.” “Looks like we can cross, make more friends off your list,” he chuckled, making his way across the room to me. “I’m so happy your first day went so well,” he planted a sticky kiss on my cheek. “Although, I never doubted that it would be anything but fantastic,” he smirked. “We can’t all be as optimistic as you,” I joked. “Need me to wash your back,” he quipped as I moved to close the bathroom door. “I think I’ve got it covered,” I shook my head at him. “Are you sure? I’m an excellent back washer,” he grinned. “I’m know,” I rolled my eyes, remembering the morning after the first time we’d had sex, when we showered together. I finished my shower, alone, and dressed in my PJs, taking my spot on the couch beside Trace. Ace curled into the curve of my legs to be close to me. I loved that little dog. I laid my head on Trace’s shoulder, not paying attention to whatever was playing on TV. I smiled to myself, thinking about how at ease Trace and I were, with living together. True, it had only been a week, but I felt so at peace…and loved, even if he hadn’t said it yet. I didn’t think it was possible for anything to burst my bubble.

I said goodbye to Marcy and made my way home, so I could shower, and get ready. Trace and I had plans to meet Avery and Luca at a restaurant nearby. “You look nice,” Trace commented when I stepped out of the bedroom in a new sundress I had bought. “I wanted to dress up,” I shrugged. Lately, all I had been wearing was shorts and t-shirts, so I wanted to look nice. “How long before we’re to meet them?” I asked, sitting on the couch to put on the heels Avery had given me. “We should be heading out now,” he smiled at me from where he lounged on the couch with Ace curled against his body. “I swear, all that puppy does is sleep,” I laughed. “Aren’t most puppies into mischief?” “Probably, but not Ace,” Trace rubbed the puppy’s back, and at Trace’s touch, Ace rolled over to get his tummy rubbed. We had quickly learned that Ace loved belly rubs. “He’s special.” “Let me fix my hair and I’ll be ready to go,” I informed him as I strolled into the bathroom. I quickly side-braided my damp hair and added some gloss to my lips. Trace was already grabbing his car keys when I walked out. “Bye Ace,” I crooned to the dog, kissing his soft head, and handing him a treat. Trace shook his head at me. “That is the most spoiled dog ever.” “He deserves to be spoiled,” I laughed, passing by Trace, and making my way down the staircase to the parking lot. “How was work?” He asked, starting the old Camaro. “It was great. Marcy is so awesome,” I gushed. After three weeks of working at Marcy’s store, I had yet to run into a hiccup. The customers were great and Marcy was the best boss ever. “See, you had nothing to worry about,” he grinned, his eyes a light shade of green today, which meant he was in a happy carefree mood. “Do you want me to admit that you were right?” I laughed. “Just one teeny tiny, ‘Trace you were right,’ would be awesome,” he held up his fingers a centimeter apart. “Fine,” I rolled my eyes. “Trace, you were right.” “Those words warm my heart,” he grinned with a hand over his heart. “Look at the road,” I warned. “You worry too much,” he mumbled, but his eyes strayed back to the road ahead. He hadn’t driven far when he turned into a parking garage. We got out of the car and I followed him around the side of a painted stone building to a gate. He pushed the gate open and I spotted Avery and Luca seated at one of tables with a yellow umbrella. I saw a band setting up on a stage in the far corner of the outdoor patio.

“Another thing you can cross off,” Trace whispered in my ear with a steady hand on my back as he guided me to the table. I shook my head in amazement. Trace and I, met by chance, and something made me show him my list, but somewhere along the way, my list stopped mattering to me. It became, not so much about accomplishing these things, but about living in the moment and just…being happy. As simple as that may sound, it’s true. Happiness is everything. Trace pulled out a chair for me to sit down and then scooted me into the table. “Have y’all already ordered?” Trace asked the other two. “Nah, we were waiting for you guys to get here,” Luca replied, slouching in his chair with an arm thrown casually across the back of Avery’s. He was in one of his vests, again, with no shirt underneath. Quite a few girls kept eyeing his impressive arms, trying to get a peek at what the vest was hiding. “I already know what I want,” Trace pushed his menu aside. “Luca and I come here all the time,” he explained. The restaurant’s name, Piccadilly’s, was scrawled across the top of the menu in a swirly font. I perused the different items, settling on the club sandwich. It was a hot evening so I wasn’t in the mood for warm food. A waitress appeared with her pen already poised against her notepad. She appeared frazzled with all the tables and I felt bad for her. I knew I could never be a waitress. I’d never be able to carry those heavy trays of food and walk at the same time. She was dressed casually for the summer heat, in a pink polo shirt, and kaki shorts. “Have y’all decided?” She asked. We all nodded and rattled off our orders. “Great,” she smiled as she took the menus, “I’ll get that in and I’ll get your drinks right out to you,” she pointed to Trace and me. We had only been outside, for maybe five minutes, and I already felt sweat beading on my skin. My dress began to stick to my body from perspiration. The umbrella, although it provided shade, did little to squelch the heat. I prayed for a breeze as I fanned myself with a hand. The waitress returned with our drinks as the band started to play. They were only a local band but they were pretty good. I recognized the first song as an old beach song. I slurped greedily at my sweet tea, and soon the glass was empty, but I was still thirsty. I should have been smart and ordered water. In this heat, sweet tea did little to quench my thirst. “I know it may not be the concert you were hoping for, in a big stadium, but I thought this would suffice,” Trace leaned over to whisper in my ear so that Avery and Luca didn’t hear. “It’s perfect,” I beamed at him. He smiled in response and sat back to enjoy the show. Our food was brought out and the band took a short break. “This is really good,” I mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich. “Yeah, this place is great,” Avery smiled, dipping her fry into ketchup. I really hoped Trace didn’t start up an argument with me about ketchup again. “My family comes here a lot.” “And now, I feel like the odd man out,” I grumbled, chewing on a non-ketchup covered fry. “That’s because,” Avery pointed at me, “up until Tracey-poo, over here,” she pointed a finger at Trace and he smirked in response, “came into your life, you rarely left the dorm, unless it was to do your homework or read a book outside.” “I can’t help it that I have a really strong work ethic and you don’t,” I joked, pointing a finger at her. Avery’s eyes zeroed in on a spot over my shoulder, just before I heard the words, “Well, well, well,” from a voice I never wanted to hear from again. The hairs on my neck stood on end as I cringed. “Can I ever catch a fucking break?” Trace grumbled under his breath, turning around to face our visitor. “What do you want, Aubrey?” I recoiled at the sound of her name coming off of Trace’s lips. “I was hoping my date,” she emphasized the word, “and I could join you?” “Hell to the mother-fucking no,” Trace seethed. I turned to watch Aubrey’s reaction. Her blue eyes widened briefly. I was sure she had expected Trace

to remain cordial since we were in public. “Trace,” she scoffed, “you shouldn’t use language like that, with small children nearby.” “And maybe you shouldn’t walk up to people that obviously don’t like you. You’re not welcome here,” Trace waved his hand like he was shooing her away. “When things ended between us, they ended,” his words were harsh and Aubrey crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “Stop trying to revive something that died a long time ago.” Trace looked up at Aubrey’s date. “If you were smart, you’d drop this one, she’s nothing but trouble.” Aubrey’s mouth opened and closed in shock. “Trace!” “What? It’s true?” He shrugged. “You’re like a fucking plague, sucking the life out of everything you touch, just like you did with me. And yet, somehow, you wonder why no one likes you?” My stomach clenched, not because I felt bad for Aubrey necessarily, but if, for some reason things between Trace and I ended, I didn’t think I could stand it if he spoke to me that way. Why? Because I was hopelessly in love with the man sitting beside me. I loved his cocky attitude and smiles. I loved that he could be arrogant. I loved that when he was with me, he was sweet and attentive. I loved that he was caring and passionate. Hell, I even loved those stupid plaid shirts he always wore. But most importantly, I loved him. Down to his very core, the good and the bad, I loved it all. And despite being upset that Aubrey was once again, causing a scene, I decided in that moment that I was going to tell him that I loved him. Not now. But soon. It didn’t matter anymore that he hadn’t told me. I had to get these words off my chest. Aubrey’s face turned an unhealthy shade of red, like those kids who held their breath when they got mad. It made her already light blonde hair appear even lighter. “I am a very likable person,” she hissed, causing Luca to snort. “Yeah, and a great white shark doesn’t have sharp teeth,” Luca said sarcastically. Her dark blue eyes narrowed. “Who are you, bitch?” Avery snapped, standing slowly. Oh, God. Avery was about to lose it. “I am Aubrey Montgomery, who are you?” Aubrey looked Avery up and down with a sneer marring her pale pink lips. “I am Avery Callahan,” Avery mimicked Aubrey’s snarky tone, “and you Malibu Bimbo Barbie, have overstayed your welcome,” she scowled. “Stop harassing my best friend’s boyfriend. Understand?” Avery smiled but it was anything but friendly. Aubrey’s eyes narrowed further as her gaze slid to me. “You are nothing but a piece of ass to him. You can’t love him the way I can,” she glared at me. “You watch and see, it won’t be long until he’s over you, and comes crawling back to me. Let’s go, Zach,” she tugged on the guy’s arm to leave. “Listen here,” Avery’s voice had turned icy cold and I knew trouble was coming. “Avery,” I warned but she ignored me. I pleaded with my eyes for Luca to do something but he was rooting her on. Some help he was. “You are nothing, because if you were something, Trace would still be with you,” Avery spat. “Obviously, you’re nothing but a cold-hearted bitch, while my friend here,” Avery pointed to me, “is the kindest, most giving person, I’ve ever met. So no, Trace won’t be crawling back to you. It’s you that’ll be doing the crawling, honey,” Avery glowered, “and it won’t be to a man. You’ll be crawling on your precious hands and knees, scrubbing floors because I’m gonna make sure your world crumbles around you.” Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I don’t know who you think you are, but that’ll never happen.” “I’m not someone to mess with,” Avery warned in a deadly tone. “You’re really hanging out with some low class people,” Aubrey scoffed at Trace. “When you decide to climb back up the social ladder, don’t expect me to answer the phone.” “That’s it!” Avery tried to lunge across the table to grab Aubrey but Luca, thankfully, sprang into action and caught her around the waist, forcing her back into her seat. “She’s not worth it,” Luca told her. “I’ll be right back,” Trace muttered, pushing away from the table, his jaw rigid. He strode quickly after Aubrey and disappeared around the side of the building. My stomach sank. Had he realized she was right and was going after her to beg forgiveness? I bit down on my lip to hold back tears. I had finally admitted my feelings for Trace, to myself, and watching him run after his ex-girlfriend,

was breaking my heart. “I’m not very hungry,” I pushed my chair back and stood slowly. “I have to go,” I mumbled, not meeting Luca or Avery’s eyes. I didn’t have any money on me so I hoped Trace returned to pay for the bill. If he didn’t, I’d owe Avery later. I left a stunned Luca and Avery behind and fled through the gate. My perfect evening was ruined. The sounds of the band starting back up rumbled behind me. I put a fist to my mouth to stifle my sobs. My pace was quick as I tried to make my escape. But apparently, not quick enough, as footsteps rapidly sounded behind me, and a body forced me against the wall of the restaurant. I went to scream but Trace’s hand covered my mouth before a single sound could escape. “Where are you going?” He asked fiercely, removing his hand so I could speak. “I’m leaving,” I sobbed, “so go back and enjoy your evening with Aubrey. You don’t owe me an explanation. I get it, I do. She’s like-” “She’s nothing like me, dammit! You promised me this wouldn’t happen again! You promised, Olivia! But here you are, running from me!” He seethed, his eyes manic as they roamed over my face. “I can’t help what and who my past is, but it’s no more. She’s no more,” he spoke furiously. “How could you ever think I was going back to that?” His tone softened. “I don’t know,” I choked as the sky darkened above us with an impending summer rain shower. “You don’t know?” He repeated. “Do you not know me at all, Olivia? I know I’m not the most open guy in the world, it’s not in my nature to confess everything about myself, but I’ve opened up to you, more than I have for almost anybody,” his eyes searched my face. “Why can’t you see that? When I’m with you, I’m me,” he growled angrily. “For years, I played the part of this happy rich party boy, but the truth is, that’s never been me. The real me,” he pointed a thumb at his chest, holding me securely against the wall with his other hand, “is the guy you’ve known from the beginning, Olivia. I’m Trace Alexander Wentworth. I’m a mechanic and I live above the garage I work at,” he wet his lips with a quick flick of his tongue. “I like plaid shirts, not tuxes. My favorite color is red…sometimes green, depending on my mood. And there’s this girl that I care about more than anything. She’s beautiful and she’s stubborn but she captured my heart from the moment she opened her mouth and started rattling about Prince Charming coming along to save her. That’s you Olivia and no one else.” His eyes and words were fierce. My chest rose and fell with heavy breaths and the stone wall was hot against my back. “I’m sorry,” my lower lip trembled. “You should be sorry,” his brow furrowed together as he gazed down at me with intense green eyes. “You’re everything to me.” Before I could reply, he crushed his lips against mine. Our tongues tangled together as he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist. “Everything,” he whispered between our lips. “You are everything,” he growled the last word. I gripped his face in my hands, leaning forward to deepen the kiss. He gripped my thighs, pressing into me. “Let’s get out of here,” he growled, pulling away. I nodded, my body and brain having turned into Jell-O. “You’re lucky you’re hard to stay mad at,” he grinned as he took my hand, and led me to the parking garage. “It’s impossible, actually, for me to stay mad at you.” “Why?” I asked. He stopped walking, as we reached the car, and stared down at me. “Because, I see the hurt in your eyes, and I know you believe whatever crazy thing it is you’re thinking in your head, and I can’t stay mad at that,” he said firmly, opening the passenger door for me. I slid inside and no words were spoken between us. Glances were exchanged and small touches, but nothing more. As we pulled into Pete’s Garage, it began to rain. The water slid down the windshield in thick torrents. I prepared myself to make a run for it, but Trace grabbed my arm. “What?” I asked with wide eyes.

He grinned crookedly. “Dance with me, Olivia,” he pleaded huskily. A smile touched my face. “That sounds wonderful.” I slipped from the car and the rain immediately drenched my dress and body. My wet hair clung to my forehead and when I met Trace in the middle of the parking lot, he pulled the elastic band loose that held my braid in place. He shook my hair out around me and murmured, “Beautiful.” Rain slicked off his skin, dripping from his nose and chin. He placed a hand on my waist and pulled me to him. “And now,” he smiled cockily, “we dance.” He dipped me low and the rain pelted my exposed neck and chest. The rain felt amazing against my warm skin and the asphalt fogged around us as the rain cooled its heated temperature. Trace spun me around and we kicked at the puddles that formed in the potholes. I laughed and smiled and danced and lived. Trace grabbed me around the waist and spun us in circles. “Trace!” I squealed, holding onto his shoulders. His plaid shirt and white wife-beater clung to his skin. He lowered me to the ground, and dipped me again, placing a kiss on my neck. The feel of the rain, mixed with his lips, caused me to shake. Raising me up, he took my right hand, and used it to twirl me. We both completely forgot about our fight and enjoyed the moment. I licked rain off my lips as I danced around. The cool liquid tickled my tongue. I pushed my clingy wet hair off my forehead. “This is amazing!” I cried, spreading my arms out wide. “It’s only rain,” Trace chuckled, watching me. “It’s beautiful,” I chimed, twirling so my wet hair fanned around me. He grabbed me again, planting a kiss on my wet lips, and we danced together. I’m sure we looked crazy and awkward to anyone passing by, but from my perspective, it was perfect. Trace lifted me up and my legs wrapped around his waist. I gripped the short wet strands of his hair between my fingers and leaned my head back to look up at the sky. I let out a cry of joy. I looked down at Trace and the warmth in his eyes melted me. I moved my hands from his hair, to his cheeks, and lowered my head to kiss him. The rain clung to our kiss, making it that much sweeter. Those three little words desperately wanted to escape my throat but I pushed them down. Now, wasn’t the time. Not when I had acted the way I did at the restaurant. When I finally told Trace I loved him, I wanted it to be special, and I didn’t want the confrontation with his ex to cloud the moment. I wanted it to only be about the two of us. “Have you had enough dancing?” He asked, meeting my stare with an intensity that caused my whole body to quake. I nodded. “Thank God,” he crushed his lips against mine as he slowly lowered me down his rain-slicked body. We were both soaked to the bone, but I had never felt better in all my life. Like clumsy teenagers, we made our way up to the apartment. I found my back pressed against the door as his lips explored mine and his hands fumbled to get the key in. Finally, he managed, and we went slipping into the apartment. He kicked the door closed behind us and grabbed my cheeks in his large hands. We stumbled into the bedroom and crashed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. We were both in a hurry and awkward in our effort to rid one another of the wet garments stuck to our bodies. His combat boots fell to floor with a clatter and he lifted my dress over the top of my head. It hit the floor with a wet thump. He sat up and pulled his drenched shirts over his head and they joined the pile of clothes on the floor. I reached out and undid the belt on his jeans, popping the button, and lowering the zipper. He kicked them off and covered my body with his. His hard length pressed against me and I hesitantly ran my finger over the curve. He shuddered above me. “God, you have no idea how good that feels,” he moaned. I pushed the fabric of his boxers down so there was nothing separating my touch.

He pressed his face into my neck, kissing a tender spot just below my ear. “I need you, now,” he panted. “Then take what you need,” I breathed, meeting his smoldering gaze. Kissing me deeply, he removed my bra and panties. Standing up, and stepping out of his boxers, he grabbed a condom and rolled it on. “Those,” he pointed to my heels, “stay on.” “You really like these, don’t you?” I smirked, lifting a foot in his direction. “You have no idea,” he growled, sliding me up the bed so that my head rested on the pillows. He slid into me in one hard thrust and gripped my hips. “Oh my God,” I cried. A long drawn out moan escaped between Trace’s perfect pouty lips. “You always feel so good, Olivia. It’s like you were made for me, and only me,” he reaffirmed his words with a hard thrust. I grabbed his forearms. “Only you,” I panted, staring into his eyes as he pounded into me. “I’m yours.” “You’re mine,” he growled, lowering to seal my lips with a kiss. His tongue flicked against my lips and my mouth opened to allow him entrance. The hard, rapid, pace had me coming sooner than normal. My fingernails raked his back as I screamed. “Yes,” he bit his lip, “scream for me baby. Let me hear you.” “Harder,” I panted, and he obliged, quickening his thrusts. Sweat and rain mingled together as our bodies met. He continued his relentless pace and my core tightened around him. We had never had sex like this before. It was hard, it was fast, it was intense, and it was passionate. Just like us. Trace’s eyes closed and when they opened they were full of an emotion I couldn’t describe. “I love this. I love being inside you. I love watching your face and seeing the pleasure I can give you.” I wet my lips and ran my hands over his chest, then lower, to where we connected. My core was tightening again and my back bowed off the bed as my orgasm ripped through me. Trace shuddered and quaked inside me, growling as his own orgasm took hold. Spent, he gently lowered his weight on top of me, placing kisses along my face, down my neck, and over my collarbone and breasts. He slipped from me and disposed of the condom. Then, he climbed back in bed, and pulled my naked body against his. Night was far away, but for now, we needed to hold each other. A chuckle escaped his lips and his breath stirred the wet hairs plastered against my neck. “What’s so funny?” I asked. “We dented the wall,” he chortled. “What?” I sat up and turned to look at the wall the bed was against. “Oh my God,” I stifled a laugh with a hand over my mouth. “We did.” Sure enough, there was a long dent in the wall where the headboard had banged relentlessly against it. “It’s a good thing I don’t have neighbors,” Trace smirked, kissing my shoulder. “Wanna see if we can make it bigger?”

“Hey mom,” I smiled as she slid into the backseat of Trace’s car. “Hi, sweetie,” she patted my shoulder. “Trace,” she smiled in his direction. “Nora,” Trace nodded and backed out of the Callahan’s driveway. “There’s so much I need to tell you,” my mom said, buckling her seatbelt. “I feel like I haven’t had the chance to see you in so long, and talk about things, what with both of us working and everything.” “So, what do you want to talk about?” I peered over my shoulder at her as Trace drove to the restaurant to meet his family for lunch. “For starters,” she smiled, “I got a promotion, and found an apartment I’ll be able to afford, with my new salary. It’s small…but clean. It will be nice to have something of my own.” “That’s great, mom!” I exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you!” “That’s awesome, Nora,” Trace piped in. “But that’s not at all,” she smiled giddily. “What is it?” I asked curiously. “I went into the lawyer’s office last week and filed for divorce. He sent the papers to Aaron, all he has to do is sign.” The relief on her face was obvious. “Mom! That’s fantastic!” I grinned. Finally, after more than twenty years, she would be completely free of Aaron Owens. “I wanted to call and tell you, but I felt it was better to tell you in person,” she smiled. “I’m so happy for you, mom,” I reached back for her hand and gave it a light squeeze. When we arrived at the restaurant, Trace’s family was already there. “If it isn’t my favorite future grand-daughter-in-law,” Warren chuckled, standing shakily on his cane, hugging me tightly despite his frail state. “I’ve missed you. You need to come visit me.” “I’ll try, I’ve been really busy,” I took the seat in-between my mom and Trace. “I got a job.” I really had been meaning to visit Warren. I missed him. “That’s right,” Warren nodded. “I remember Trace mentioning that. How’s the job working out for you?” “I love it,” I smiled, picking up the menu. The restaurant was attached to a hotel and it was surprisingly upscale with dark wood accents and tile floors. Part of the kitchen was open to the space so you could watch them cook. “I’m glad to hear that,” Warren coughed. “Gramps, are you okay?” Trace asked, his brow wrinkling in concern. “Just a little cold, nothing to be worried about, these old lungs don’t work quite as well as they used to,” he shrugged, taking a sip of water. Trace didn’t seem to be buying what Warren had said. A waiter appeared and I ordered a chopped salad.

When everyone’s order had been taken, I looked across the table at Trent. “How’ve you been?” I asked. “Eh,” he shrugged. “I haven’t been doing much.” “He’s been sulking,” Lily piped in. “About what?” I asked Trent. “You certainly don’t have to tell me, but you can.” “Just a girl,” he mumbled, reluctantly, squirming under everyone’s gaze. He scratched his chin, staring at the table. Trace chortled. “Is she resisting your infamous charm?” “Yes,” Trent groaned, rolling his eyes. “She completely ignores me and not even my dimples affect her! Girls can’t resist the dimples!” He pointed dramatically to his cheeks. “Guess you’re going to have to try harder, little brother. Maybe, the whole ‘flirt’ thing doesn’t work for her,” Trace shrugged. “Ya think?” Trent snapped. “Why don’t you just be yourself around her?” I suggested. “A lot of girls aren’t attracted to the showy type.” “Whatever,” Trent grumbled, as he unfolded his napkin, and spread it across his lap, “I don’t want to talk about this, anyway.” The waiter brought our food out and we settled into easy conversation. “Oh, I keep forgetting to mention that the lake house renovations are finished,” Lily explained to Trace. “You and Olivia should come up this summer. We’ll be leaving in two weeks, to spend the rest of the summer there, but you’re welcome to go beforehand by yourselves, or join us. You too, Nora,” she added. This was the first time my mom and Lily had met. I was extremely pleased by how well they were getting along. “That sounds nice,” I nodded at Trace. “I’ve never been to a lake house.” “Great!” Lily clapped her hands together. “And seriously, Nora, please join us.” “I would love to,” my mom replied, “but since I was recently promoted, I don’t think it would be best to go on a vacation so soon.” “Oh, of course. I completely understand. Just know that the invitation is open and I mean that sincerely,” she smiled pleasantly. Raising her water glass in the air, Lily said, “Here’s to new beginnings.” “To new beginnings,” we all echoed.

“It’s a bit bare, isn’t it?” I assessed my mom’s new apartment. It was smaller than Trace’s apartment and not as nice, but at least, like she had said, it was clean. The carpet was brand new and the walls were freshly painted. The appliances weren’t stainless steel, but they were new as well. A single couch decorated the designated living area, and when I poked my head inside the only bedroom, it contained a simple bed and mattress. “It’s not like I have much,” my mom sighed. “All I brought with me was clothes. I’ll add some decorations later,” she pulled her hair off her shoulders and tied it in a ponytail. “But for now, it’s my own place, and that’s what matters.” “Let me know when you want to go shopping,” I replied, looking over the couch to make sure it was clean. “I’d love to help you.” “I will,” she placed her hands on her hips over her stretchy yoga pants. “It’ll probably be a while though. I really don’t have the money right now. I had to pay the first three months rent up front and it has all but wiped out my bank account.” “I’m sorry, mom,” I bit my lip. “I should have moved in with you.” “No, no, that’s silly,” she shook her head. “You’re happy where you’re at and you don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine on my own. I even made sure this place has a security system,” she pointed to the wall beside the door where a white panel was inserted. “What are you going to do about a ride to work?” I asked. Since Resa didn’t work, she had been lending my mom her car, or driving her to work if she had errands to run. “Don’t be mad,” her cheeks flushed, “but Nick will be taking me. He has a job for the summer near

the hospital and he said it wouldn’t be any trouble.” “I’m sure he did say that,” I grumbled. Apparently, I was going to have to have a talk with Nick and let him know my mom was off limits. “He’s a nice guy, Liv. Don’t crinkle your nose like that. He’s sweet and he helps me out,” she rolled her suitcase into the bedroom. “He’s also a twenty-two year old man who wants to get in my mother’s pants,” I grumbled. “Olivia!” My mom exclaimed, glaring at me with wide copper eyes, the same eyes she had given me. “It’s true!” I countered. She shook her head rapidly back and forth, staring at the ground. “I can’t help how old he is-” “Oh my God,” I turned around so that she was to my back. I couldn’t look at her right now. “You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?” Her silence was answer enough. “Mom!” I turned to face her. Her face was beet red and she looked like she was choking on her own saliva. “Olivia, that’s none of your business.” “Ew, no!” I squealed, shaking my head. “I can’t. I can’t,” I covered my eyes. “Then you shouldn’t have said anything,” she defended. “Oh my God. I think Avery’s rubbing off on me. This is bad. I wouldn’t have normally asked that. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business,” I apologized. “It is your business, Liv. You’re my daughter. But I shouldn’t have to tell you something until I’m ready,” she said softly. “I know. I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I shouldn’t have asked.” “Let’s move on and pretend this conversation never happened,” she pleaded. “Sure,” I agreed, not meeting her eyes, because I was positive that I wouldn’t be able to pretend it never happened. Since there was nothing left to bring in, I mumbled, “I’m going to get out of here. I have to stop by the grocery store.” I really did have to go to the grocery store, but at this point, I would’ve made any excuse to leave. The awkwardness from the Nick situation had yet to leave. “Alright,” she seemed relieved at my imminent departure. I figured, either Nick was expected to show up any minute, or she felt as awkward as I did. “Let’s do lunch next weekend, if you’re not working?” “Sounds good,” I smiled, striding towards the door, and Nick would not be a topic that I was ever bringing up again. I started my small cobalt blue Ford Focus and drove to the grocery store closest to Trace’s apartment. I still had trouble thinking of it as “ours”. Trace was working late tonight and I wanted to make him dinner, because despite what he believed, I could cook. My mom had taught me most of her recipes, and while I wasn’t the best cook, I wasn’t horrible. I wanted to surprise him with a meal and finally get those three important words off my chest. Several times in the past few days, they had come close to rolling off my tongue, but I kept my mouth shut. I pushed the cart around the store, adding the ingredients I needed, and headed to the checkout. I planned to make homemade Fettuccine Alfredo from one of my mom’s recipes. I loaded the plastic bags into my car and drove home. I noticed a car in my rearview mirror that appeared to be following me, and my heart rate spiked when it pulled into Pete’s parking lot. I reasoned that maybe, they were having car trouble, and it was by coincidence that they followed me home. But…my gut didn’t believe that. Not looking at the person, because I didn’t want to get involved in a conversation, I lifted the trunk and picked up the two bags, the keys to the apartment clutched in one hand. Gravel crunched behind me and fear slid like a sheet of ice down my back. Swallowing thickly, I started up the steps that led to the apartment. A hand pushed into my back and I fell on the wood steps. Splinters imbedded in my hands and knees. “What the-” I exclaimed. Someone rolled me over, pinning my wrists to my sides. I gasped when my eyes connected with dark ones, outlined by wire-framed glasses. “Aaron,” I gasped.

“My name is not Aaron, to you. It’s dad,” he shook me. “I’m your dad.” His hold on me was tight and I was surprised my bones didn’t snap. “Let me go,” I begged, hysterics arising. I kicked him hard in the stomach and he was forced to let me go as he stumbled down a few steps. Thankfully, the key was still clutched firmly in my hand, and I ran for the door. I managed to get it open, but by the time I tried to close it, Aaron had recovered and was barging his way inside. He slapped my face so hard that I fell to my knees. Tears clouded my vision as I clutched my stinging cheek. He towered above me, the look in his eyes anything but human. They were dead eyes. They were the eyes of someone who had lost everything and no longer cared. “I came for your mom,” he growled, “she’s an idiot to think I’m going to give her a divorce. I’m prepared to drag her ass back home. I was driving around looking for her, when I saw you walking out of the grocery store,” he kicked my ribs. I grunted from the impact and clutched feebly at my side. Oh, God. It hurt. “Hurting you,” he sneered the word like it was dirty, “will hurt your mom more than anything else. This,” he kicked my face and I tasted blood, “will break her. She needs to be broken. She needs to know she can’t run.” He punctuated each sentence with a kick to a different part of my body. My side. My chest. My arms. He didn’t care where he hit me; he just wanted to hurt me. “I told her there would be consequences if she ever left me. But she didn’t listen!” His anger was rising from deadly calm to unchained fury. I whimpered as he beat me, trying to crawl away from him. Ace barked and growled but there was little he could do. Aaron reached down, and gripped me by my hair, slamming my head into the wood floor. I screamed, scratching at his bare arm. “Get off of me! Let me go!” There wasn’t much I could do to fight back. My whole body was sore and I felt like I was choking on the blood pooling in my mouth. He beat my skull repeatedly into the floor yelling and screaming nonsensical things. My vision began to blur and go spotty. “Stop, please stop,” I begged, crying. “Trouble! Nothing but trouble!” He yelled. I tried to swallow but blood clogged my throat. I began to choke and gasp for air. He punched my face and blood went flying out of my mouth. I rolled over, trying to spit the blood out, and suck in oxygen at the same time. My eyes zeroed in on the spot where my head had been. There was a sizeable pool of blood there and I reached up, feeling a gash on the back of my head. My fingers came away red and I began to sob, which did nothing to help my breathing. The air left my lungs with a sickening wet sound. “You’ll pay for everything you’ve done to me!” Aaron screamed and kicked my other side. My whole body felt like it had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. “You-goin-ta-kill-me,” I choked, not able to get the words out as I gasped for air, trying to crawl away again. I was so weak and there was so much blood. I felt it dampening my hair. I rolled back over, onto my back. I was too tired to move and too weak to fight back. I begged silently for an easy end. I didn’t want to suffer anymore than I already was. I needed the pain to end. Footsteps echoed around the doorway and I watched Aaron turn. A moment later, Aaron was crashing to the ground beside me as Trace wrestled him to the ground. Trace. Trace. Trace. Trace was going to watch me die. I didn’t want that for him. There was no hope for me. Air wasn’t reaching my lungs and I knew I had little time left. Punches were thrown and grunts echoed around the space. Ace came to my side, licking my sore face, and curling up beside me. It was as if the puppy thought that his presence alone could heal me. My eyes started to drift closed but someone was shaking me. Why was Aaron prolonging this? Couldn’t he get it over with already?

But when I opened my eyes, it was Trace’s worried green ones staring down at me. “Olivia?” He sounded like he was talking to me through a tunnel. “Can you hear me, baby? Olivia, please, focus on me. Just look at me, baby. Can you do that?” I tried so hard to keep my eyes focused on him but they kept drifting to the side and closed. “Olivia, keep your eyes open. I know you want to go to sleep, but you can’t. Just listen to my voice, okay?” He tried to sound calm but I knew he wasn’t. “Paramedics are on their way. Hang on, baby. Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me,” tears fell from his chin onto my face. “I can’t lose you. Stay with me, Olivia.” “S-s-s-o t-t-t-i-i-r-r-r-e-e-d,” I stuttered. “I know, baby. I know you’re tired but you can’t go to sleep. You have to stay awake. I’m so sorry, Olivia,” he sobbed. “I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry. Please, baby, stay with me,” he pleaded desperately. “I can’t lose another person I love. Don’t do that to me. We stick together, Olivia. You and me, baby, till the end of time.” His hands fluttered above my body, seeking a place to hold me, but my whole body was battered. Taking the end of my chin, gently between his thumb and index finger, he stared down at me fiercely. “You’re going to be okay, Olivia, but I want you to know I love you. I love you more than anything in this world. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted to tell you so many times but the time was never right,” he swallowed thickly. “I wanted it to be perfect when I told you, because even though perfection doesn’t exist, I’m never going to stop searching for it when it comes to you,” he gently brushed my hair away from my forehead. “Please, forgive me baby. Please,” he begged, crying hard now. I had never seen a man cry like this before. Like his whole world was crumbling beneath him. “I-I-” I tried to speak but everything was fading around me. I was sinking into a deep well of water and I couldn’t see the surface. “I know you do,” he silenced me. “Don’t talk. Conserve your energy. I’m going to try to stop the bleeding from your head,” he ripped his wife-beater off his body and lifted me slightly so that he could press the fabric to my scalp. I whimpered in pain. Trace continued to speak but I only heard faint rumblings as everything faded around me. My eyes fluttered closed. I couldn’t keep them open any longer. Blackness cloaked me and peace settled in my soul as all my pain faded away.

I was floating…but I was suspended, at the same time, like a balloon whose string was held by a small child. I was trying to escape the grasp that was holding me, but it was too strong. Someone was speaking, no, pleading, with me. I tried to make out their words, but it was like I was underwater, while they were above. There were so many noises, but I blocked them out, focusing on what the voice was saying. I knew it was important, and that I needed to hear what they had to say, before I floated away forever. I finally managed to distinguish what the voice was saying, more like screaming, at me. “Olivia! No! Breathe, baby! Breathe! Come on! You can’t leave me! Let me go!” The last part was addressed to someone else. “Listen to me, Olivia! You can’t leave me like this! I love you! Do you hear me? I love you! We have our whole lives ahead of us, Olivia! Please, don’t leave me!” The voice pleaded desperately. “We’re going to get married one day and have lots of pretty babies that will look just like you, Olivia! You’re going to write that book! But most importantly, you’re going to live, Olivia!” “We have a heartbeat,” another voice said, just as the blackness swallowed me once more.

“Wake up, please, wake up,” a voice begged. I swam for the surface, my arm outstretched, trying to reach it. “Wake up, Olivia,” it pleaded, “open those pretty brown eyes.” I kicked my arms and my legs, my lungs about to burst with the need to inhale oxygen, but I was still too deep in the water. I kicked faster. “Come on, Olivia. Open your eyes. You can do it.” My eyes came open and air rushed out of my lungs in a mighty exhale. The pain was excruciating, and if I had the energy, I’d yell at the person who had woken me from my peaceful depths where there was no pain. “Oh God, Olivia,” the voice cried and gently took one of my hands in their own. I slowly turned my head and found Trace bowed over my bed, sobbing. “I thought I had lost you,” he cried. “I’ve never been so scared in all my life.” I wanted to comfort him, somehow, but I couldn’t get my body to work. Tubes and wires seemed to run from every part of my body into various machines. I tried to say his name but no sounds came out of my mouth. Finally, he looked up at me with redrimmed eyes. “You’ve been asleep for a week, Olivia. I thought you were never going to wake up,” his voice cracked. “They told me to keep talking to you, so I did. I’ve talked about anything and

everything, trying to get you to wake up,” he took a deep shaky breath. “I thought I was never going to see those pretty brown eyes ever again.” He gently brushed my hair away from my eyes, carful of my injuries. “I watched you die, Olivia. I watched your heart stop beating.” He swallowed thickly and I knew this was hard for him. But there was nothing I could do but listen. “I vowed, after watching my dad die, that I would never witness anyone I loved dying, ever again,” his voice was fierce and carefully contained tears shimmered in his green eyes. “I felt so helpless, Olivia. I couldn’t do anything but watch you drift away from me. When I thought you died,” he choked, “I wanted nothing more than to die too. I know that sounds dramatic, but when you find the person that completes you in every way, when something happens to them…it happens to you too. I can’t live without you, Olivia.” He placed his hand gently in my open, bandaged, palm. I squeezed my hand around his slightly, offering him as much comfort as I could muster at the moment. “I-I-I’m s-s-sorry,” the words were forced between my lips and the effort of forming them left my throat dry. “God, baby,” he kissed my fingers, “don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.” A single tear leaked from my left eye and skated down my cheek. Trace gently swiped it away. “Please, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I was upset. I thought I lost you,” his eyes were full of remorse. “E-e-every-t-t-thing hurts,” I confessed. “I know,” he hung his head. “I didn’t get there in time. The back of your skull was fractured and you have three broken ribs, one of which punctured your lung,” he looked at me sadly, a frown marring his face. “Not to mention the beating your whole body took.” He looked me over and I knew he was wishing he could take away my pain. “I m-m-must l-l-look a-a-awful,” I said tiredly. The effort of speaking was beginning to take its toll. “You’re always beautiful, Olivia. Even battered and broken, you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever set my eyes on. And most importantly, you’re alive,” he licked his dry lips. He looked so tired and thin. This past week had obviously drained him. His hair was a mess and his red-rimmed eyes had gray circles from lack of sleep, beneath them. His clothes were rumpled and I was sure he’d been wearing them for days, heck, maybe even the whole week. The door to my hospital room opened and the nurse jumped in surprise when my eyes met hers. “You’re awake!” She exclaimed, striding over to me, and quickly checking the machines I was hooked up to. “You,” she glared icily at Trace, “were supposed to let me know if she woke up.” “I’m sorry,” he apologized to the nurse but the quirk of his lips told me he didn’t mean it. “I got distracted.” He rubbed his thumb softly against the spot where my thumb and index finger connected. “Mhmm, I’m sure you did,” she hummed. Looking at me, her face softened. “You’re a lucky girl, Olivia. You nearly lost your life. It’s nice to see you awake, and maybe this one will eat something now,” she pointed to Trace. “He hasn’t left your side since you came out of surgery.” “S-s-surgery?” I croaked. Changing my IV she explained, “You had to have surgery to repair your lung.” I watched as she shot medicine into the IV tube. “Sweetie, you’re going to start to feel very sleepy. Just let your body relax. We need to keep you sedated for as long as possible to speed up the healing process.” I nodded, already feeling drowsy as the medicine hit my veins. I glanced over at Trace, and stuttered, “I l-l-love y-y-ou.” A calm stole through my body as I finally confessed my feelings to him. He smiled, bringing my hand to his lips, where he pressed a small kiss. “I love you too, Olivia. Sweet dreams. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” My lips couldn’t help but turn up in a smile at his words.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Trace crooned when I opened my eyes. “Hi,” my voice was stronger and steadier this time, but dry and crackly like sandpaper. “Was I asleep for long?” He nodded sadly. “Two days.” How was it possible to sleep for that long and not be aware of it? “Your mom’s here,” he nodded his head towards the door. I could see the nurses’ station through a

rectangular pane of glass. “She went to get a bite to eat in the cafeteria so she’ll be back soon. Avery and Luca have been by too. Even Marcy and Alba came to see you.” “Like this?” I asked incredulously. “I look horrible.” I hated the thought of anyone seeing me, beaten and bruised like this, and smelling like old meat… because I was pretty sure that nasty smell was me. Then again, it could be Trace, because he was still in the same clothes he was wearing two days ago. Trace’s laughter shook his body, and although I was serious, it was nice to see him laugh. “Yeah, like that, silly girl,” he shook his head. “I hope they all still want to be my friends after this,” I grumbled. “You don’t look that bad, Olivia,” Trace rolled his eyes at me. “I know I won’t be going near any mirrors for a long time,” I snapped. “I probably look like my skin has been tie dyed with all these bruises.” Trace opened his mouth to say something but the door to my hospital room swung open and stopped him. “Olivia!” My mom cried upon seeing me awake, dropping her coffee on the floor, in her haste to reach me. The brown liquid seeped across the white tile floor; reminding me of the pool of blood I had seen in Trace’s apartment. I closed my eyes in remembrance, trying to block out thoughts of that day. I didn’t want to relive it. I wanted to put it behind me, but I knew that would be impossible. When I opened my eyes again, my mom was peering down at me, with tears streaming down her face. She was desperately seeking a place to touch me but my whole body was battered. Finally, she hooked her index finger with mine and sighed in relief. “You have no idea how worried I’ve been, Liv. I thought I was going to lose my baby girl,” she bit her lip. With her free hand she clutched at her chest. Trace stood and grabbed a tissue. She took it from him and wiped her face free of tears. “Thank God you’re going to be okay. I would’ve never forgiven myself. I didn’t think the divorce papers would have that much effect on him, since so much time had passed. I’m still in disbelief that he showed up here, and went after you, Liv. This whole thing doesn’t seem real,” she sobbed and Trace reached for more tissues. “Mom, please don’t cry,” I begged. “This isn’t your fault. Aaron’s a nutcase.” “Only you, Liv, would be bruised and battered in a hospital bed, and comforting me,” she wiped her nose. “Seriously, mom,” I curled my finger tighter around hers, “this is not your fault. This is no one’s fault but Aaron’s. What—uh—what happened with him?” I asked reluctantly. I really didn’t want to keep talking about Aaron. Just thinking his name was causing flashbacks of my beating to come back to me. Did it make me weak, since I didn’t want to remember? Trace cleared his throat. “I knocked him unconscious, but since he wasn’t seriously harmed, he’s in the local jail right now. Thank God he doesn’t have anybody willing to bail his sorry as out of jail, because if he was free and walking around, I would go after that fucker and…” He paused. “You don’t want to know what I would do to the bastard that hurt you. And—uh—sorry for the cussing,” he muttered the last part at my mom. “What’s going to happen to him?” I asked. I needed to know if the man who had tried to kill me was going to walk free. “He’s going to go to jail for the rest of his life,” Trace promised me. “My family and I are doing everything we can to make sure there’s no chance of him walking free. You have nothing to worry about, Olivia. He won’t hurt you ever again.” “Will there be a trial? Will I have to testify?” I questioned, swallowing thickly. The thought of getting up in front of a jury and describing what Aaron did to me— God, I couldn’t even think about it. “We’re trying to avoid that,” he explained. “Everything is pretty cut and dry. The evidence of what went down was obvious.” Relief flooded my body and surged through my veins. I took a deep breath, which hurt my chest, and let it out. “That’s good,” I breathed. “How long am I going to be in here?” I asked. Now that I knew what was going to happen to Aaron, there was no point in talking about him…ever again. “There’s no way to tell,” my mom said, pulling up a chair beside my bed, so that her and Trace were on each side of me. “It all depends on how well you do. A physical therapist has been coming in every day, to work with moving your legs and arms so that it will be easier for you to walk.”

“I don’t like that guy,” Trace seethed. “The physical therapist?” I croaked. Trace nodded. “His smile is creepy.” I started to laugh, which turned to a cough, and I ended up clutching my ribs in pain. “Ow,” I cried, fighting tears. My chest felt like a bull had stepped on it. “Don’t laugh, baby,” Trace bit his lip, “it’ll hurt your ribs.” “You think?” I glared at him. “Sorry,” he mumbled and sat back in the chair. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, but it really hurts,” I whined, “and I’m thirsty.” “I’ll get you some water,” he hopped up from the chair and ran for the door. I think he was relieved to be able to do something to help me. My mom was still sniffling, and I really wished she’d stop, because it made me feel bad. I didn’t like seeing her or anyone, this upset over me. I didn’t want anyone to suffer, because I was suffering. That didn’t seem right. The sadness that lingered in her eyes, as they fluttered over my body, upset me. Trace had that same look in his eyes when he looked at me. It was a look that said they wished they could heal me by glance alone. The door opened and Trace stepped inside with a Styrofoam cup of water with a straw. Since I was so weak, he held the cup for me while I wrapped my lips around the straw, sucking slowly. My throat was still raw from the screaming I did…and for all I knew, I might have had a breathing tube, at one point. When I nodded that I was finished, Trace placed the cup on the tray over my bed. “I talked to a nurse. They’ll be in to check on you and take your temperature. They’re concerned about you getting a fever,” he explained, with his arms crossed over his lean chest. “Why would they be worried about a fever?” I questioned. Trace swallowed. “Your body has sustained a lot of damage and your system is weak. You’re going to be more susceptible to getting ill and if you get a fever…it could escalate fast,” the worry on his face tore me apart. “I feel fine,” I assured him, desperate to make the line between his brows disappear. I wiggled my fingers and he placed his hand lightly in mine. Looking over his gaunt appearance, I reluctantly muttered, “You should go home and eat, Trace. Take a shower and get some sleep. You look exhausted.” “I’m not leaving,” he shook his head vehemently. “What about Ace?” I hoped the mention of the puppy would spurn him into action. “Trent’s staying at the apartment with Ace, so he’s fine,” Trace assured me. “Still,” I rubbed his fingers, “you should get some rest. I feel guilty.” He placed a tender kiss on the tip of my nose. “Don’t pull the guilt card, Olivia. I’m not going anywhere.” I swallowed thickly. How did I get so lucky with Trace? Continuing, he added, “I’m not leaving this hospital until you do.” “What about work?” I inquired. “Pete knows what happened, hell, all the guys do. My apartment was a crime scene for a few days until the police got everything they needed. So, he understands why I need to be here,” Trace explained, running his fingers through his hair. “Okay,” I finally agreed, “but can you at least shower?” His chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Are you saying I stink?” “I’m saying I’m pretty sure that smell isn’t me,” I sniffed my arm for emphasis. I smelled like plain hospital soap, slightly citrusy. “Fine, but only because there’s a bathroom with a shower attached to your room,” his eyes twinkled with laughter. “Call Trent and tell him to bring you clothes,” I added. “Is there anything else I should ask Trent to bring?” Trace shook his head at me. “Um…” I smiled. “Think he can sneak in Ace?” I wanted to see my sweet Lab and give him kisses. I hated that Trace and I had been away from him this long. “I’m sure if I asked him, he’d try,” Trace chortled. “But they don’t allow dogs in the hospital.” “They should,” I pouted. “Ace wouldn’t hurt anybody. He would lay right here, beside me,” I pointed

to the empty spot in the hospital bed that was big enough for the puppy, “and wouldn’t bother anyone.” I smiled at Trace. “I know he would, but I don’t want them to kick me out for letting my little brother bring a dog into a sterile hospital,” he chuckled. “Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll just suffer.” “I’m so happy you’re feeling well enough to argue with me,” he snorted. “Someone’s awake and talkative,” the same nurse from the other day breezed into my room. Her short auburn hair was straight and her pink scrubs were the only sign of color in the plain white room, aside from the clothes Trace and my mom were wearing. She looked over my vital signs. “Everything seems to be looking good, sweetie. I’m going to take your temperature,” she promptly stuck a thermometer under my tongue. Ten seconds or so later, it beeped, and she checked it. “Temp is normal, so that’s excellent news. I’m going to check your blood pressure now,” she explained. My mom scooted out of the way, and let go of my finger, so I could lift my arm for the nurse. The cuff tightened against my arm and I winced as it dug into my tender skin. “I’m sorry,” the nurse apologized as she removed the cuff. “Your blood pressure is excellent though. The doctor will be making his rounds in the next thirty minutes,” she smiled at each of us and ducked out of the room. The heavy door clicked closed behind her. I relaxed against the fluffy pillows, fighting against the exhaustion that was threatening to pull me under. I didn’t know how it was possible for a person that had slept for two days straight, and a week before that, to still be sleepy. But I was. Trace noticed my eyelids fluttering open and closed. “Olivia, if you need to sleep, go to sleep. Your body needs the rest.” “No,” I shook my head slightly. “I need to stay awake. I’ve been sleeping so much-” “Don’t fight what your body needs,” his green eyes were fierce. My stubborn side kicked in and I looked away from him. “Olivia,” he groaned warningly. “I want some more water,” I requested, to sidetrack him. He sighed and held the Styrofoam cup to my lips. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” I finished the water and fanned my eyes at him. “More please.” “I’ll be back,” he sighed. My mom slid her chair closer to the bed and hooked our fingers back together. “I’ll stay until the doctor checks on you and then I really have to go.” Apology was clear in her brown eyes. “It’s okay, mom,” I assured her. “I know you can’t stay here with me. Heck, I don’t expect Trace to stay with me, but he’s so stubborn.” “He loves you,” she smiled, “and he wants and can be with you. I don’t have that luxury. I have to be at work early in the morning. I work on the lower level of the hospital but I’ll try to stop by if I get the chance. If I don’t, I’ll come by after my shift ends.” “You don’t need to do that, mom,” my eyes started to close again but I forced them open. “I’ll find a way to see you tomorrow,” she promised. “Okay,” I swallowed, because selfishly, I wanted to see her. I was hurt, and I wanted my mom to comfort me, like a small child sick with the flu. Trace came back with my water and a doctor followed behind him. “I’m Dr. Richards,” the gray-haired man said, grabbing a clipboard attached to the end of my bed, and looking over it thoroughly. “I’ve been following your progress closely and you’re doing extremely well. You sustained quite a beating,” he looked at me with kind blue eyes. “You’re lucky to be alive, Olivia. Count your blessings.” He skimmed over my chart again and placed it back in its slot at the end of the bed. He looked me over and said, “I want to keep you, for at least four more days, to make sure you’re breathing okay and everything’s fine with your lung and ribs. If that checks out, you’ll be free to go home.” “That sounds great,” I breathed. “I want you to try walking, today. I can see that you’re tired, but before you go to sleep, I’d like for your mom or husband to walk the halls with you,” he smiled kindly. “Sure,” I agreed. “Wait, wha—” Trace silenced me with a hard glare. What was going on? Had we gotten married while I was sleeping or something?

“Walking’s fine,” I tried to cover myself. “I’ll check in on you tonight,” he smiled and strode from the room. “Husband?” I snapped, eyeing Trace. He grinned sheepishly. “If I said I was your boyfriend they wouldn’t let me stay around the clock. So, be a good girl, and pretend to be Mrs. Wentworth.” His smile turned cheeky. “You’re ridiculous,” I shook my head. My mom stood and moved the chair back to its original spot. “I have to go. I love you, Liv.” She kissed an uninjured spot on my forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Love you too, mom,” I smiled. Trace waved goodbye to my mom. “I’m going to go get a nurse to unplug you from all of this junk,” he pointed at the various monitors I was hooked up to, “so you can get some walking done.” “Okay, I’ll—uh—be here,” I joked. He shook his head at me and left. I forced my arm to move, reaching for the cup of water. Being helpless, was getting old really fast. I managed to get my hand to grip the cup and slowly brought it to my lips. My body was so sore and weak that I knew walking was going to suck the last of my energy right out of my body. “I hear you want to walk,” the nurse smiled, breezing into the room. The scent of her floral perfume permeated the air around her. “More like, I’m being forced,” I pouted. “Walking will be good for you. Just do ten minutes and come back. You don’t have to walk for long. If you’re tired after five minutes, that’s fine too. Don’t overexert yourself, but you do need to move some.” Great, no one was on my side. In no time at all, she had me unhooked from most of the machines except for the IV and oxygen tank that had those weird pointy things stuck in my nose, because both of those wheeled along beside me. “I can take it from here,” Trace assured the nurse as he draped a blanket over my shoulders. I leaned heavily against him as we strode down the carpeted hall. The oxygen tank’s wheels kept making this annoying shrieking sound. “Can we go look at the babies?” I asked. “At least, I’ll get to look at something cute.” Trace feigned that I had hurt his feelings by frowning and placing a hand over his heart. “And I’m not cute to look at?” He questioned. “I look at you all the time. I’m sick of your face,” I snorted, shuffling along like a ninety-year-old lady. “That’s a new one,” he chuckled. “Most people never get sick of this face.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. For the first time, I noticed that he hadn’t shaved in quite a while, and almost had a light beard. “You really need to clean yourself up,” I joked. “You’re looking like a-” “Don’t even finish that sentence,” he narrowed his eyes playfully. “I always look fabulous…even when my girlfriend has nearly worried me to death.” “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. How silly of me,” I shook my head as a cough raked my body. Trace stopped and looked me over. “Are you okay? Do we need to go back? Can you breathe?” The questions tumbled from his lips without a breath in-between. “It’s just a cough, Trace. Calm down,” I proceeded to shuffle forward on the carpeted floor. “Sorry,” he smiled bashfully. “It’s been a rough ten days,” he bit his lip. “I’m still a little jumpy.” “I feel…not fine…but not like I’m on my deathbed. Chill, okay?” I pleaded. “I’ll try to tone down my concern a notch,” he cleared his throat. “Or three,” I eyed him. He shook his head at me. “No promises on that one. Let’s get this over so I can get you back in bed where you’re safe.” “What are you going to do when I go home? Bubble wrap me to the bed?” I scuffed along in the hospital issued socks. His lips quirked up in a small smile. “That sounds like a good idea.” “You’re ridiculous,” I muttered scathingly. “No, Olivia. I’m concerned. I never want to have to watch you almost die, again,” he spoke seriously. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I know you’re worried about me, and here I am, acting like a bitch,” I frowned. “You’re sore and tired, it’s expected for you to be a little snappy,” he chuckled. “I’d be more worried if

you were acting like nothing was wrong.” He read a sign and pointed to our left. “Babies this way.” We, or I, shuffled forward the last few feet and stopped in front of the glass window separating us from the newborn babies. They were so small and helpless. Most of them were sleeping but one was crying, her small arms forcing their way out of the blanket, swaddling her small form. Another, a boy based on his blue knit hat, eyed Trace and me with wide blue eyes. His small pink lips formed an O as he looked at us. Dark hair peeked out from the edge of his hat. He was so adorable with his plump cheeks. “I think he likes us,” Trace pointed at the baby. “What’s not to like,” I poked Trace’s side lightly. “We’re ah-mazing.” “Ah, how could I forget,” he winked at me. Growing serious, he gazed down at me, with dark green eyes. “One day, I’m going to put babies in your tummy, and watch my love grow inside you.” I laughed. “You’re full of it.” “I’m serious, woman,” he scoffed. “I know you are,” I wet my parched lips with my tongue. I really needed some more water. With one last glance at the sweet babies, I turned around, “I’m going back to my room. I’m tired.” Trace helped me back to the room and into bed. I finished the cup of water and asked for more before I finally let myself fall asleep.

“You’re doing extremely well, Olivia,” Dr. Richards smiled kindly at me. “We’re going to re-tape your ribs and you’ll be free to go. I want you to follow up with your regular doctor next week, to check on your ribs. Melissa,” who was my nurse, “will get your prescriptions ready, then you can get out of here.” “Great,” I grinned. I couldn’t wait to get out of this bed and back home. I’d had enough of hospitals to last me a lifetime. The whole process of signing release forms, and getting everything together, took at least an hour. I had to change, with Trace’s help, into my own clothes, and then be wheeled down to the lobby. The nurse waited with me while Trace brought his car around. With the nurse and Trace’s help, I hobbled into the car. The rest of my body was healing well, but my chest still felt like an elephant had sat on me. “Don’t be mad,” Trace winced as we pulled away from the hospital. “Nothing good, ever comes after those words,” I grumbled, slipping my sunglasses on. “Just tell me what it is and don’t sugar coat it.” “Avery and Luca are meeting us at the apartment. I’ve managed to keep her away the last few days, but she wants to see you. She’s your best friend, Olivia. She’s been really worried about you and she hasn’t seen you since you woke up.” “Ugh,” I groaned. “I don’t want her to see me like this,” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to make it look semi presentable. “Besides, I’m tired and cranky. I want to go to bed.” “I know,” he took my hand tenderly in his. “But she needs to see you, to know you’re okay.” “I’ve talked to her on the phone!” I cried. “Yes, you have. But that’s not the same as seeing a person in the flesh,” he reasoned. I sighed. “I want to see her but-” “I get it, Olivia. I do,” he interrupted. “You’ve been through a lot and you’re not up to seeing people. I tried to talk her out of coming over but…you know Avery.” “I do and that girl is not easily deterred,” I shook my head. When we pulled into the garage’s parking lot, Avery and Luca were there in her red beetle, and there was another car, a black Dodge Challenger, which I assumed was Trent’s. Avery slipped out of her car, as Trace parked and I took a deep breath, silently pep talking myself. “Stay put,” Trace warned. “I’ll tell them to head on up and then I’ll help you out.” I nodded in agreement, because I knew there was no way I’d be able to make it up those steps by myself. I watched Trace greet Avery and Luca, and point at the door to his apartment. Avery shook her head adamantly and pointed at me. Trace waved his hands forcefully and I saw his jaw working as he spoke rapidly. Finally, Luca took Avery by the hand and towed her up to the apartment. They knocked on the door, and I watched Trent open it, Ace ran through his feet and sniffed at Luca and Avery.

Trace opened the car door and unbuckled my seatbelt. He lightly wrapped his arm around my body and helped me from the car. He kept a steady hand on my waist as I shuffled towards the steps. I bit my lip at all the stairs I was going to have to climb and dreading the pain I knew they were going to cause me. I hated being so helpless. Noticing my look of distress, Trace smiled. “Just try, Olivia. If you get tired after one or two, I’ll carry you.” I took a deep breath and fought back tears. “I can do this,” I whispered, for my benefit, not his. “I know you can,” he helped me slowly make my way up. By the time we reached the door I was exhausted and leaning my body heavily against his. My body had taken quite a beating, and I still wasn’t completely healed everywhere, meaning the simplest tasks exhausted me. “I want to go to bed,” I begged as he opened the door and Avery rushed towards me. “Back off,” Trace warned her with a steely gaze in his eyes. I had never heard him use that tone of voice with anyone before. Avery immediately took a step back, and kept her mouth shut, which surprised me. Avery wasn’t the kind of person who was too keen on being bossed around. “She’s tired, and I told you she wouldn’t be up for company, but you insisted on being here. I know you’re her best friend and you’re worried. But please, let me get her in pajamas, and in bed. Then, if she’s feeling up to it, you can see her,” Trace explained. Avery muttered, “Okay.” Looking over me, she added, “I’ve been so worried about you, Olivia.” “I know,” I whispered since I didn’t have the energy to speak any louder. Trace helped me into the bedroom and closed the door. I shuffled over to the dresser and pulled out short pajama bottoms and a long sleeve shirt of Trace’s that would hide my fading bruises. I didn’t like to see my bruises, and being reminded of what happened, so I knew no one else did either. It was hard enough, knowing something bad has happened to someone, but seeing the evidence all over their bodies tears you up inside. “I can do it myself!” I yelled at Trace when he tried to help me out of my clothes. He flinched like I had slapped him. “Are you sure?” “No!” I croaked and collapsed onto the bed, sobbing. “I hate this, Trace. I feel so helpless. I can’t walk up stairs or change my own clothes! It isn’t fair! Why did this happen to me?” I buried my tearstreaked face in my hands. I heard Trace kneel in front of me and then he was prying my hands away so he could see my face. “I don’t know why this happened to you, baby, and I know it isn’t fair. But you’re alive and that’s something to be grateful for,” his eyes bore into me, straight to my very soul. “I watched you die, Olivia, and that’s something I’m never going to forget,” he swallowed thickly. “But you came back to me, because you’re a fighter, and you’ll fight through this and you’ll get through the pain. In no time, all of this will be nothing but a distant nightmare,” his eyes were clouded with tears and his voice was thick with emotion. “It’s okay to question why this happened to you, Olivia. That’s normal. But don’t let it eat you up inside. You have to move on and put it behind you, so you can live your life to the fullest, because that’s all anyone can ever do.” I took a shaky breath and hiccupped. “How do you always know exactly the right thing to say to me?” He chuckled but it was weak. “It’s a talent. Now please, let me help you. There’s nothing wrong with letting me help you.” Slowly, I lifted my arms above my head and he removed my shirt, careful to keep space between his hands and my healing ribs. He lifted the shirt I had grabbed, over my head, and it fell to my thighs. He removed the sweat pants I was wearing and replaced them with my blue flower pajama shorts. He helped me up and then pulled the covers back. I lay down in the bed and he pulled the blankets up to my chin. “Do you want me to send Avery away? Or do you want to see her?” He asked. “I want to see her, but tell her I’m really tired,” I pleaded, gazing up at him. I hoped the concern in his eyes would fade soon. I didn’t like it. “I’ll tell her,” he bent, kissing my nose, and strode out of the room. He’d barely walked out when Avery came barging in. She sunk to the floor beside the bed. “Oh, Olivia,” she cried, “It’s so good to see you awake. I came to see you at the hospital but you were sleeping and then once you woke up, Trace wouldn’t let me come in and-” I didn’t want her blaming Trace, for not being allowed to see me, so I quickly interrupted, “He kept you away because I didn’t want to see you.”

“But…why?” She was confused. I reached for hand. “You’re my best friend, Avery. I didn’t want you to see me like that…so hurt and tired. I was a mess. I slept most of the time anyway, and my medicine made me a little loopy,” I added a smile to hopefully relieve some of the tension from her body. “Olivia, none of that matters. I’m your best friend and I wanted to be there for you,” she squeezed my hand. “I know,” I whispered, my eyes growing heavy. I fought against the sleepiness that was clawing through me. “But after everything that happened…I needed some space.” “Well,” she looked at me fiercely, “you’re home now and I’m not letting you withdraw from me…or anyone. What happened to you was horrible, Olivia. But please, don’t let it change you.” “How can it not change me?” I questioned. “I was almost murdered, Avery, by a man that for twenty years of my life, I believed was my father.” She climbed into the bed beside me. “I know you’re going to be…affected by this,” she paused, running her fingers lightly through my hair to relax me. “But I don’t want to see it make you a different person. This wasn’t your fault, Olivia.” “It was,” I sobbed. “And if he had found my mom first…he would’ve killed her, and I would’ve had to live with the fact that I got my mom killed, for the rest of my life. I thought I was doing the right thing, getting her away from him.” “You did the right thing,” Avery held me as I cried. “I know it may not seem like it right now, but you did. You saved her, Olivia, and Trace saved you. Not everyone gets a second chance at life, but you’ve been given one. So, live it.”

A few months later… Moving on, after going through something like I did…is difficult, to say the least. There were many days that I didn’t want to get out of bed and face the world, but I knew I had to, and Trace helped to push me. He didn’t let me dwell on what happened. He helped me move on. I didn’t know what I would do without him. Before I knew it, summer was over, and I was starting my junior year of college. It didn’t seem possible that so much had happened to me in such a short period of time. But it did. I lived. I died. I came back. I moved on. I wasn’t letting my past define me. Instead, I was choosing to embrace my future, and whatever it had in store for me. “What are you thinking about?” Trace asked as the air rushed through the open windows of the Camaro. “Just thinking,” I murmured, staring out at the orange, yellow, red, and brown leaves. Fall was in full swing. “About what?” He asked again. I sighed dramatically at his stubbornness. “Life.” “That’s vague,” he muttered. “It was supposed to be,” I giggled. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.” “And I don’t plan on telling you,” he smirked. “Be patient. Good things come to those who wait.” “Sometimes, I wonder why I love you so much,” I shook my head, my long wavy hair falling forward. “It’s because I’m a beast in the sack,” he glanced at me, waggling his eyebrows, before returning his attention to the road. “You’re so full of yourself,” I snorted. “When you’ve got it, you’ve got it,” he enforced his words with a thrust of his hips. “Ah, here we are,” he pulled off onto the side of the road. I looked around, my brow furrowing in confusion. “Where are we?” Trace grinned crookedly at me. “Look around, Olivia.” I did and a smile spread across my face. “It’s where we first met,” he took my hand and placed a tender kiss on my knuckles. “A year ago today, I pulled over to help this beautiful girl change her tire. She made me laugh with her incessant use of the word, uh, and her mention of Prince Charming,” he winked. “She woke up something inside

me and I knew I had to get to know this girl. You changed my life, from the moment I met you, Olivia,” he feathered the lightest touch of his fingers over my cheek. “Your smile stirred something inside me that I had never felt before.” His eyes were a fierce dark green. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “This last year has been a rollercoaster. But I wouldn’t change a thing. Every moment with you, is a moment I treasure.” My heart skipped a beat at his sweet words and tears of happiness pricked my eyes. That stupid flat tire, that I had been so mad about, had changed my life. One moment, that’s all it took, for my life to change completely, and veer onto a different path. I was reminded of one of my favorite quotes: “Life is not measured by the amount of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.” From the moment I met Trace, he’d been taking my breath away, and showing me what life was really about. “Come on,” he grinned and opened his car door. I did the same. We climbed onto the hood of his car and watched the sunset. The color of the sun reflecting off the leaves made them seem as if they were on fire. “I think there’s one last thing to cross off,” he beamed, pulling the folded piece of paper from his pants pocket. He kissed my cheek before placing the paper in my hand. He grabbed a pen and handed that to me as well. He skimmed his nose along my cheek, and pushed my hair back, so he could whisper in my ear, “I love you, Olivia.” I smiled at him and leaned my head against his shoulder. “I love you, too.” The metal hood of the car wasn’t the most comfortable place, but I didn’t mind. I was here, with my love, and nothing else mattered. I looked down at the list in my hand, reading through all the things that just a year ago, had merely been dreams of mine, and now I had accomplished all of them. Everything was crossed off except for the very last thing. With a smile aimed at Trace, I drew a line through the last item on the list, the most important one.

Get drunk Fly in a hot air balloon Go to the carnival Go to a concert (even if it’s someone I’ve never heard of) Go to a party Lose my virginity Dance in the rain Go roller skating See the ocean Learn to paint Get a dog… or a cat… or a rabbit. Any pet will do. Sing in front of real people. Avery doesn’t count. Make more friends Shoot a gun Smoke Get a tattoo Learn to pole dance Go skinny dipping Pierce my belly button Fall in love I never meant to fall in love with Trace, but I did, and by some miracle, he fell in love with me too. We had some crazy adventures along the way, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world, because all

of those crazy things defined us. All the laughs, all the tears, all the kisses, it was all us, and it would always be that way, because I had found someone worth loving through the good and the bad. I handed the piece of crinkled up paper to Trace and he smiled as he read it over. “Well, what are we going to do now?” He asked, with his signature cocky grin, that I had learned to love. He threw his arm around my shoulders and pulled me fully against him. Both our legs were stretched out, my left flush against his right. His lips pressed tenderly against the top of my head. I stared out at the setting sun, squinting against the brightness, as it disappeared over the line of trees. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

Copyright © 2013 Micalea Smeltzer All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Cover Design and Photography by Regina Wamba of Mae I Design Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

How far would you go to reignite the spark you once had? Two years later, Trace and Olivia are as much in love as they’ve always been. But the spark they once had for life is waning and Trace is determined that they find it again. His solution? A road trip. But he doesn’t tell Olivia the real reason they’re heading north. Olivia is happy to go on a road trip and have more adventures with Trace. Besides, she needs a distraction from the soap opera her life has become. With college over, this is the perfect opportunity to chase down the carefree girl she once was. But life isn’t a fairytale and you can only escape reality for so long. Love, laughs, and a hidden agenda. That’s the name of the game when you’re Chasing Olivia.

This book is for everyone who fell in love with a shy girl and cocky plaid-shirt wearing mechanic. I hope you enjoy the rest of their journey.

I wiggled in my itchy dress as the sun beat down on my back. Whose idea was it to have a wedding at the end of May? The humidity was about to suffocate me. “We are gathered here today, to celebrate the wedding of Nickolas and Nora,” the minister stated. Yep, my mom was marrying my best friend’s brother, a guy that was only two years older than me. It was weird, but I’d had two years to get used to it. What I wasn’t used to was the fact that in five months, I’d be a big sister. I’d been an only child for all of my twenty-two years of life, so it seemed weird to be getting a sibling now. One day, I’d have kids, and it would be awkward explaining why my brother or sister was so much younger than me. I shuddered at the thought, but quickly sobered. Today was my mom’s wedding day and I needed to act happy. Well, not act, because I was happy for her, I just couldn’t seem to get over the weirdness of the situation. It wasn’t right of me to judge my mom or Nick for loving each other. Love shouldn’t be determined by your skin color, gender, or age. When you love someone, others shouldn’t question your decision, they should respect it. I gripped the bouquet tighter in my hands, wishing the minister would speed up the ceremony. This dress was some kind of itchy and if I didn’t get to scratch myself soon, I’d go crazy. They exchanged their vows, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, as they stood under the flowered arch. Bright green grass surrounded us since the wedding was being held in the park. I turned my head slightly when they kissed, eyeing the ground. It might be awkward having a step-dad that was only two years older than me, and the same age as my boyfriend, but I knew Nick loved my mom, and that’s what mattered most. Applause echoed around us and I smiled. Nick took my mom’s hand and they walked back down the aisle as the minister declared them, “Mr. and Mrs. Nickolas Callahan.” I took a huge sigh of relief as the wedding party began to disperse, heading to the tent set up for the reception. When I was sure no one was looking my way, I scratched the itchy spot on my back, sighing in relief. “Hey beautiful,” Trace, my boyfriend, grinned, grabbing me by the waist and spinning me around. My strapless lavender dress fanned around me. “You looked good up there,” he kissed my cheek. I rolled my eyes, hoping he hadn’t seen me moaning in pleasure from finally scratching my back. Damn itchy dress. “You’re such a liar. I know I looked terrified, I was scared to death I’d do something wrong.” “How could you possibly do something wrong?” He questioned, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “You stand there and look pretty.”

“Knowing me, there’s a number of things I could do wrong,” I grumbled as we walked towards the large white tent. My heels kept getting stuck in the soft ground and Trace had to lift me up. “You are clumsy,” he chuckled, just as he had to grab me around the waist to keep me from toppling face first into the ground. “Thanks,” I mumbled. He chuckled. “It’s not a problem.” We made it to the tent, where a dance floor, a stage, and tables were set up. Paper flowers hung from the roof of the tent and soft music played. Everything was very simple and understated, just the way my mom and Nick wanted it. This was the first wedding I had ever been to and I was at a loss as to what I was supposed to do. Trace gave my waist a slight squeeze. “Stop chewing on your lip, Olivia. You’re going to make it bleed.” “Sorry,” I let my lip go with a pop. I was a nervous ball of energy. More people began to trickle into the tent and I felt more at ease. Some started dancing, while others took a seat at one of the tables scattered under the tent. I saw my mom and Nick come into the tent, and he pulled her onto the dance floor, one hand was at her waist, while his other hovered protectively over her small round stomach. “Are you okay?” Trace whispered, his lips skimming my ear, and sending a shiver down my spine. Even after two years, I was still affected by him. I think I always would be. After the man I’d grown up believing was my father nearly killed me, our bond grew even closer. Trace had been there for me through the good, the bad, and the in-between. He was my rock. We had some hard times over the last two years but we stuck it out. Trace saw me at my worst after my near death experience … I said some not very nice things to him—to everyone, for that matter. But it never fazed him. Eventually, I grew strong enough to let go of my past with his help. Those first few months we were together, he taught me how to be wild and spontaneous, how to make mistakes, and most importantly, he taught me how to live. And that’s what I’d been doing ever since. “What are you thinking about?” He asked, rubbing my neck. “You,” I answered. He smirked. “Are you thinking about the three orgasms I gave you this morning?” I smacked his side. “Trace,” I groaned, my cheeks coloring. “What? You looked like you were really enjoying them,” he wet his lips. “At one point I thought you passed out.” “Shut up,” I pleaded with him. “Fine, no more orgasms for you,” he chuckled. “Are you trying to make me die of embarrassment?” I squirmed in his arms. “Someone could hear you.” “Eh,” he waved a hand, “I don’t care.” “But I do,” I hissed. I’d been with Trace long enough to know and respect the fact that he had no filter. But when he started saying certain things in very public places it became a bit difficult for me to handle. “Ah, there it is,” he grinned. “What?” I asked. “Your ears are turning red,” he chortled, gazing down at me. Someone bumped into me, pushing me further into his body. “Are not,” I groaned, self-consciously reaching up to touch my ears. Sure enough I could feel the heat infusing them. Trace chuckled in reply. Shaking his head he stepped in front of me, holding out a hand as he bowed dramatically. “May I have this dance?” I let my hands drop from my ears and placed one in his. “You should know by now that you don’t need to ask.” He wet his lips. “I’m a gentleman, and a gentleman always asks for permission,” he winked, leading me out onto the dance floor. I wrapped one arm around his lean shoulders while he held my other hand. We swayed back and forth to the romantic music, while my mom and Nick danced nearby along with other couples.

“In case I haven’t told you today, you look beautiful, Olivia,” he whispered huskily in my ear and my stomach rolled. God, how was it still possible for him to turn me on with a few words? “You’ve mentioned it a few times already,” I smiled up at him. He bent down so his lips were beside my ear. “Olivia,” he whispered, “you deserve to be told your beautiful every second, of every day, because it’s true.” I blushed, leaning my face against his chest where his heart beat proudly. “You’re such a flatterer.” “I’m no such thing,” he murmured. “I’m honest.” My eyes flutter closed. “I love you.” Three words had never been more true. I loved Trace Wentworth with every fiber of my being. “I love you too,” his chest rumbled beneath my ear with his words, “so much.” I knew he did. He told me and showed me every single day how much he loved me. I often wondered how I got so lucky finding Trace … or maybe he found me. Regardless, Trace was it for me. I hadn’t had to suffer through tear-filled breakups. It had only ever been Trace and that’s all it ever would be. He gently grabbed my right arm and pulled it away from his shoulder, placing a light kiss on the tattoo that emblazoned my wrist. It was a fairly new tattoo and spelled out his name. “You really like my tattoo, don’t you?” I laughed. He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “I love it. It lets all the other guys know you’re taken.” I rolled my eyes. “You sound like a dog marking his territory.” He chuckled. “I have your name close to my junk, so you’ve taken my man-hood,” he reasoned. “You’re the one that wanted it there,” I glared. “But your name looks so good there, peeking out of the top of my pants,” his eyes were playful, holding back laughter. “You-you-ugh!” I stuttered. He continued, “This way, guys know you’re taken, girls know I’m off the market and that my—” “Trace! We’re at a wedding!” I cut him off. “—cock belongs to you,” he smirked. “You just love embarrassing me,” I buried my face against his chest, willing the blush staining my cheeks to leave. “You’d think by now you’d be used to the things I say,” I felt him shrug. I shook my head and looked up into his green eyes. “I am,” I grumbled. “But when you start saying certain things in public—” I trailed off, lifting my shoulders in a small shrug. He chuckled, his lips lifting up into a smile. “I like to keep you on your toes …” He paused, “… actually, I prefer to keep you underneath me but that’s a different story.” “You are on a roll today,” I shook my head rapidly back and forth, praying that the people around us couldn’t hear our conversation. He grabbed my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting my face up. “I promise, from now on … or at least until we get home, I’ll be on my best behavior.” He grinned cheekily. I rolled my eyes at him. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” “I can be good!” He exclaimed. I eyed him. “Okay,” he paused, “I can be good if I try really, really, really, hard.” “Stop talking and dance,” I shook my head, unable to hide my smile, and glanced down at my feet to make sure they didn’t get tangled in his. “So bossy,” he chuckled, “I like it.” I bit down on my lip to hold back my retort. “Hey,” Nick appeared behind Trace and tapped his shoulder. Trace and I stopped dancing, and he wrapped an arm protectively around my waist. “Sorry to interrupt,” Nick smiled sheepishly, sweeping his blonde hair from his eyes, “but I was hoping to dance with Olivia.” Trace glanced down at me and I nodded that I was okay with that. “Sure,” Trace released me and placed my hand in Nick’s. “Nora, would you like to dance?” Trace asked my mom. She smiled and accepted his offer. I watched them sway onto the dance floor before I tilted my head back to look at Nick. God, he was a giant. I felt like a midget standing next to him. “I wanted to talk to you,” Nick whispered, glancing around to make sure my mom and Trace were out

of earshot. “I figured,” I muttered, trying to keep the bite out of my voice. Nick was a nice guy, so I needed to stop acting like he wasn’t. He and my mom deserved to be happy. His hand flexed where it rested above my waist. We swayed awkwardly to the music, almost a foot of space between us. “I know … that this has been …” “Difficult?” I supplied with a raised brow. He took a breath. “I know this has been difficult for you, Olivia. But I really do love your mom with all my heart and I’m ecstatic to be her husband. I can’t wait to bring our son or daughter into this world and become a father. Nora’s told me everything about Aaron and Derek.” I flinched at the mention of Aaron’s name. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through so much, Olivia. I really am. But I want you to know that I’m nothing like—” “I know that,” I interrupted him before he could say that name again. “Good,” he swallowed. In the beginning, when I first learned of Nick and my mom’s relationship, I’d wondered why she was so quick to jump into dating after finally getting away from her abusive husband. But now, I understood. There’s a part of all of us that no matter what, never stops believing in the power of love. Love, makes us human. It’s what drives us. The song changed but we continued with our awkward dance. I felt like he was waiting for me to say something, so I opened my mouth and let the words tumble out. “I truly am happy for the both of you. I can see how much you love my mom and how much she loves you, I’d be an idiot not to. I think it’s great that she’s found someone to love and she’s moving on with her life … I’m sorry that I haven’t been the most supportive person of your relationship … it’s just … awkward … I mean … you’re—” I floundered for a better way to explain but came up empty. “I get it,” Nick smiled and his dimple appeared in his cheek. “I could be your brother.” “Exactly!” I agreed. Nick was my best friend’s brother, which made this whole thing even weirder. Nick chuckled. “I don’t want you to ever think that you’re not … welcome, or anything like that, Olivia. Just because your mom and I are married now, and the baby will be here in a few months, it doesn’t mean you’re not still her daughter.” “I know,” I mumbled. “Do you?” He questioned. I sighed. “It’s weird,” I admitted reluctantly. I felt like my mom was replacing me … like I wasn’t good enough. I knew in my heart that wasn’t true, but it didn’t stop me from thinking it. “I don’t want you to feel weird about this, Olivia,” Nick’s eyes narrowed. “How could I not feel weird?” I countered. “What if the situation was reversed? How would you feel if your mom was marrying your best friend’s brother and having his baby?” He shrugged. “When you put it that way … I get it. I do.” “I’m a big girl, Nick,” I told him jokingly. “Seriously, don’t worry about me.” “I want you to be okay with me and your mom being together,” he whispered. It was kinda too late for that. But I didn’t tell him that. “Nick,” I eyed him, “you love my mom and that’s what matters the most. I’m okay.” He stared down at me for a moment, not believing me. “Really,” I added. “Alright,” he sighed, his eyes zeroing in on something across the room. “I better get you back to your boyfriend before he bites my arm off or something.” I glanced over my shoulder to see Trace standing with his hands shoved into his pockets, glaring at Nick. My mom was speaking to Resa, Nick’s mom. I shook my head and smiled at Nick. “Did he miss the wedding or something? I’m pretty sure you just said ‘I do’ and it wasn’t to me.” Nick chuckled. “Yeah, he must have missed that part.” The song ended and Nick released me. “Thanks for talking with me, Olivia.” With a smile, he disappeared off the dance floor, in search of my mom. “Somebody was a Chatty Kathy,” Trace appeared at my side. I grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty table. “He wanted to talk,” I told Trace, sitting down beside him. “So, we talked. There was no need for you to glare at him like that. He is my step-dad.”

Ew. That word seemed too strange to comprehend. “Sorry,” Trace mumbled, bowing his head. “I know that. I’m just very overprotective of you.” I swallowed thickly, feeling like he’d punched me in the gut. Trace had always been protective of me, but after I was nearly murdered he gave that word a whole new meaning. “I highly doubt Nick’s going to kill me,” my voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry,” Trace repeated, “I can’t help but freak out a bit when it comes to you.” “It’s been two years, Trace. I’ve moved on,” somewhat, “and you should too.” His fingers tapped restlessly against his knee. “I wish that bastard hadn’t killed himself. He deserved to rot in prison for what he did to you,” Trace seethed, his teeth gritted. “At least, he can never hurt anyone else now,” I whispered, feeling very small. For some reason, whenever the conversation turned to Aaron, I always felt like a small child and wanted to curl into a ball. Trace sighed, rubbing his hand over his stubbled jaw. “Yeah, I guess that is a good thing … I still think it’s completely fucked up that he took the easy way out.” Shortly after I was released from the hospital, things were moving along with Aaron’s trial, when he found out that he might be stuck behind bars for most of his life, he found a way to end it. The police officers found him hanging in his holding cell by the sheet from his bed. When I first found out … it didn’t seem real. I felt like it was some kind of joke. I didn’t feel like it should have been possible for him to commit suicide. That made me angry for quite a while. While I suffered with recovering from what he did to me, Aaron was dead and free from suffering for his actions. “Can we stop talking about this?” I pleaded, looking up at Trace through my lashes. “Today is my mom’s wedding day and the last thing I want to be thinking about is that—that—monster.” Trace swallowed, his eyes sad. He reached for my hand, placing a tender kiss on it. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” “It’s okay,” I forced a smile, but my words were weak. While Trace’s way of coping was to talk about what happened to me, I preferred to pretend it never happened. “What are you two doing sitting over here looking so sad?” Avery asked, plopping into the seat beside me and kicking off her high heels. “Trouble in paradise?” “No!” Trace and I both exclaimed. “Ugh,” Avery grumbled, “I wish you two weren’t so perfect together. You make relationships look so easy.” For the past two years, Avery and Luca, who happened to be Trace’s best friend, had been in an offand-on relationship. I really wished they’d get their crap figured out and get together permanently. They were perfect for each other. Things had gone well for them for a while and then things went sour. Avery would never tell me what happened which led me to believe she was the one with the problem. I asked Trace if he knew what happened, but he told me that guys don’t talk about that kind of stuff. Whatever. “That’s because relationships are easy when you love the other person and you communicate,” Trace eyed Avery. “Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs and massaging the sole of her foot. “That’s so not true.” I shook my head at her. I sat up straight and reached for Trace’s hand. I wasn’t going to let Aaron or Avery make me sad today. “Want to dance again?” I asked him. “Sure,” he grinned crookedly. “Any excuse to have you in my arms is a good one.” Avery made a choking sound. “I think I threw up in my mouth. That was way too sweet for me.” “And that’s why you’re single right now,” I whispered in her ear as I passed by her on our way back onto the dance floor. Putting our previous conversation behind us I smiled up at him as I crossed my arms behind his neck. “You look really good in this suit.” He wore a light grey suit, with a button down pale blue shirt, a thin black belt, and a navy tie. “Babe, I look good in anything and nothing at all,” he chuckled.

“Even after two years, you’re still as cocky as ever,” I smiled. “Confident, not cocky. There’s a difference,” he laughed, his eyes light and playful. I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’ve told me that before.” “That’s because it’s true,” he smiled down at me. After dancing to a few more songs, everyone was cleared off the dance floor for dinner and cake. I sat at the lone rectangular table beside my mom. Thank God Trace was on my other side. Nick was to my mom’s left with his best man, his brother Ben, beside him. Ben and I were both expected to give speeches … I was pretty sure I’d throw up before I could give mine. Public speaking was not my forte. “Babe … babe … babe,” Trace wrenched his hand from mine under the table. “What?” I glanced over at him. “You cut off my circulation, I think my hand is asleep,” he groaned, waving his hand in the air. “Sorry,” I bowed my head, eyeing the white tablecloth. “I’m nervous.” Hearing my words, my mom turned towards me. “Honey, I told you that I don’t expect you to give a speech. Don’t worry about it, sweetie.” “Mom, it’s my job as your maid of honor to give a speech, so that’s what I’m going to do,” I steeled my shoulders. “You always were a stubborn child,” she chuckled, fingering a loose curl beside her cheek. Trace leaned around me so he could see my mom and squeezed my knee. “She’s a spitfire.” “You’ve got that right,” she huffed. “Um, I’m sitting right here,” I pointed to myself. “You realize that I can hear you?” “You mean …” Trace paused. “… you have ears? That’s shocking.” I narrowed my eyes. “Wanna sleep on the couch tonight?” “Come on,” he squeezed my knee, “I’m no good to you on the couch.” I blushed. Sometimes, I couldn’t believe the things he said, especially when my mom was right beside me. Ugh. “You’re blushing,” he poked my cheek. “And you’re about two seconds away from losing your hand,” I snapped. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Is it that time of the month or something? ‘Cause you’re super grumpy today.” “I’m stressed,” I replied, wiggling in my seat. I had been worried about doing something stupid during the ceremony and now I was worried about my speech … that I hadn’t even written. The stress of writing it had been too much, so I hoped I could come up with something decent off the top of my head. If not, I was screwed. “Allow me to …” he whispered huskily, “relive some of that stress.” His finger trailed up my thigh, higher and higher. My eyes fluttered closed, but before I lost all sense I smacked his hand away. “Not here,” I hissed. He sat back and smirked. “Later then. I’m sure I can locate a closet or something.” “We’re outside,” I stated. “No closets.” “A tree will work,” he waggled his eyebrows. “You’re impossible,” I shook my head, turning to my mom, praying that she didn’t hear us. Luckily, she was engrossed in conversation with Nick and Ben. Our food was brought out, and while it looked delicious, I was too nervous to eat. I merely pushed it around the plate with my fork. It was like there was a clock in my head and I could hear it ticking down the seconds until I made a fool of myself. When the food was cleared away Ben stood to give his speech, sending my stomach plummeting out of my body. Everyone listened intently to his speech but I didn’t hear a single word. It was like my ears decided to stop working. When he sat down, I knew my time was finally up. I stood shakily, and Trace reached up, putting a supportive hand on my lower back. He was probably afraid I was about to fall. I swallowed, turning away from the crowd and facing my mom and Nick. After all, what I was about to say was for them and no one else. Clearing my throat, my fingers wiggled restlessly against my side.

“First, I think it’s necessary for me to say that I am so extremely happy for the both of you. Mom, you deserve to love and be loved, and I’m glad you’ve found someone that loves you completely. Nick,” I said his name shakily, and his eyes met mine, “I truly mean it, when I say, there’s no one else I’d rather have seen my mom marry. The love you feel for her is palpable. I’m honored to have you become a part of our family and I’m excited …” I paused, “to see you create your own family together.” I smiled significantly at my mother’s small bulge. Nick laid his hand protectively over her stomach. I did a small curtsy and took my seat. Wait … I curtsied?! Trace snickered beside me. Oh, God. Before I could dwell on my embarrassing curtsy, Nick reached for my hand. “Our family.” “Huh?” I looked at him questioningly. “You said, and I quote, ‘create your own family together,’ but you’re a part of this family, Olivia. Don’t ever think you’re not,” he eyed me. I smiled at him and my mom. “My bad, our family,” I enunciated the word. “That’s better,” Nick grinned, his dimple popping out on his cheek. “Now that that’s cleared up,” he turned to my mom, “let’s dance the night away.”

“Ugh, my feet are killing me,” I groaned, kicking off my heels, and reaching for the zipper on my bride’s maid dress. It pooled on the floor beside the door and I breathed a sigh of relief to finally be out of that dress. The apartment was dark and our black lab, Ace, scurried forward. His nails clacked against the floors. “Hey buddy,” I petted his head as I passed by him on the way to the bedroom. Trace came into the bedroom behind me carrying the fluffy lavender dress. “I didn’t want Ace to mess it up,” he explained. I looked over at Ace, who’d jumped up on the bed, and then back at Trace. “You know Ace would never do that. He’s a good boy.” Trace chuckled, hanging the dress over the top of the open closet door. “You never know.” I removed my bra and pulled on a sleep shirt and sleep shorts. I was so exhausted that I was sure I’d be asleep the second my head hit the pillow. I pulled the covers back and climbed into bed. Ace lay down beside me with his head on my stomach. I loved that dog so much. Trace stripped down to his boxers and got in bed. We were quiet, listening to the symphony of our breaths. I rolled to my side, towards him, and he put his arm around me, pulling me close. My ear rested over his heart and the beat calmed me. I felt his lips press tenderly against the back of my head, right over the scar that my hair kept hidden. My eyes shut. Even two years later, the memories of that day still haunted me. Sometimes, I closed my eyes and it was like Aaron was hovering over me once more with his fist raised. On those nights, Trace comforted me, sometimes staying up until the wee hours of the morning. I don’t know how he didn’t get tired of it … I think, maybe because of what he went through with his dad, that he understood it was going to take me a long time to get over it. It was easy for others who’d never been through something traumatic to judge me. They thought I should magically be over what happened. But that’s not how it works. Healing takes time … a long time. It takes patience. It takes love. Thankfully, Trace had all the love and patience anyone could ever need. “I love you,” he whispered, believing I was asleep. I smiled. I knew he did. He didn’t have to tell me, but it was nice to hear.

Knock.

Knock. Knock. Bang. Knock. With a groan, I sat up. What the heck was going on? It had to be the middle of the night. I climbed from the bed to investigate the strange sound. I couldn’t decide if it was someone knocking on the apartment door or something else. The noise was strange … Once I was out of the bedroom, it was easy to deduce that the noise was, indeed, someone at the door. But they definitely weren’t knocking on it with their fist. It sounded more like they were using their whole body … or head … Scared to go to the door—because let’s face it, I wasn’t exactly the strongest person on the planet—I went to wake up Trace. “Trace,” I pushed his shoulder, trying to rouse him from sleep. “Trace,” I shook him a bit harder. “Huh?” His eyes cracked open a bit, just a thin slit of green showing through. “There’s someone at the door,” I hissed. “What time is it?” He rubbed his eyes, yawning. “Two,” I muttered, looking at the clock beside the bed. “I don’t know who it is and I’m scared to open the door,” I admitted reluctantly, playing with the ends of my hair. He sat up and rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of jeans, which he left unbuttoned. “I’ll check it out,” he assured me, kissing the end of my nose. I tiptoed behind him and out of the bedroom. He undid the deadbolt and slowly opened the door. Whoever was standing there fell into his arms. “Avery?” I gasped, taking in the vibrant red hair. “Mhmmmmitsme,” she slurred drunkenly. Since she seemed to have lost the ability to move her legs, Trace picked her up, and gently laid her down on the couch. I grabbed a bottle of water before kneeling beside her. She was completely wasted and the dress she’d worn to Nick and Nora’s wedding was ruined. It was covered in grass and mud stains, as was her body. My eyes widened, zeroing in on something wrapped around her neck. I gasped when I realized what it was. “Avery! Why is your underwear around your neck?” I bit my lip to hold back laughter. I mean, it wasn’t every day your best friend showed up at your place drunk with underwear around her neck. “Huh?” She looked at me with bleary eyes and fingered the silky string of fabric around her neck. “Must have taken em’ off.” “Obviously,” I snorted. “What were you doing?” “I’m pretty sure it involved beer and sex in a field … by the way, don’t ever try that,” she warned Trace and me, pointing at us with a shaky finger, “it really itches.” I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter, but quickly sobered. “Wait … who’d you have sex with?” Last I’d heard, she and Luca weren’t together … unless they’d gotten together tonight. “The guy I bought the beer from was getting off work and we both wanted to have some fun. I think his name was Austin. Or maybe it was John? Brad? Anyway, he wasn’t very good,” she pouted. “Hey, is that water for me?” She reached for the bottle in my hand. “Oh yeah, sorry,” I handed it to her. She slurped at it greedily and when the bottle was empty she let out a very undignified burp. “I miss Luca,” she began to cry. “I keep trying to forget him, but I can’t Libby,” she slurred my name. “I lub him.” She wrapped her arms awkwardly around my shoulders and sobbed. I’m pretty sure she drooled on my neck too. I bit my lip and looked up at Trace helplessly. I had no idea what to do with her. “Uhm,” I patted her back. “I’m sorry?” It came out as a question. “All I d-d-do is p-push p-p-people away,” she cried. “That’s not true,” I tried to comfort her. “Um … Avery?” “Yeah?” She pulled away and looked at me with shimmery green eyes. I wrinkled my nose. “I hate to tell you this, but you smell really bad?” We looked at each other and neither of us could contain our laughter.

I pulled a strand of grass from her hair and glanced up at Trace, who was still standing by the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. “Can you help me get her in the bathtub?” “Yeah,” Avery looked up at Trace with wide eyes, “help me, Tracey-poo.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll carry her, but I’m not stripping her. You’re on your own with that part.” “Good, I didn’t want your help for that,” I smiled at him. I stood and pointed a finger at Avery. “Don’t grope my boyfriend.” “Not making any promises,” her giggle ended in a hiccup, “he has a nice ass.” I rolled my eyes. Only Avery. I pushed open the bathroom door and flicked on the light, yawning. I yanked the shower curtain open and started a bubble bath. Trace came into the bathroom with a half-asleep Avery in his arms. “For someone that looks so little, she’s kinda heavy.” “It’s the boobs,” Avery mumbled into his shoulder, “they must weigh fifty pounds.” Trace chuckled and sat her on the edge of the tub. “Thank you,” I told him, kissing his stubbled cheek. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “She’ll be more comfortable in our bed and from the looks of it, she’s going to have a killer headache in the morning. So, let’s not add a sore back to her list of ailments.” “You’re too sweet.” “I try,” he smiled crookedly. “Danks Tracey,” Avery slurred, leaning her head against the tiled wall, her eyes closed. He shook his head and closed the bathroom door behind him. The bathtub was about halfway full of hot water and smelled of vanilla bubble bath. “Come on,” I coaxed Avery into a sitting position instead of her slumped one. “Lift your arms.” I helped her out of her dress and removed the underwear from around her neck. She wasn’t wearing a bra and I figured she’d probably lost it in whatever field she’d been rolling around. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I grumbled, helping my drunk and very naked friend into the water. “That feels nice,” she murmured, a content smile lighting her face. “You so owe me for this,” I laughed, grabbing a handful of bubbles and blowing them at her face. She swatted them away and smirked. “I reward you with my fabulosity on a regular basis. You owe me.” “Whatever,” I laughed. “Any special plans for graduation?” She asked, her eyes twinkling, hinting that she knew something that I didn’t. Our graduation was in two days and classes had ended last week. “No,” I shook my head. “Nothing special.” “I know something you don’t know,” she sing-songed in a very off-key pitch. “Trace—” “SHUT UP, AVERY!” Trace yelled from the living room. “SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL COME INTO THAT BATHROOM, AND SEE YOUR GOODS IF YOU DON’T STOP TALKING!” Avery giggled. “Trace wants to see my goods.” I looked between my best friend and the closed door. What the hell was going on? “What do you know that I don’t?” I asked her. She opened her mouth but Trace came busting into the bathroom. “She knows nothing! Nothing! Right, Avery?” She looked up at Trace with bleary eyes. “Oh, right. It’s a surprise.” He smacked his face with the palm of his hands. “Never again,” he grumbled under his breath. “Don’t say anything,” he pointed a finger at her and then turned to me, “and don’t you dare try to get it out of her.” I couldn’t help laughing. I raised my hands in surrender. “Fine.” He looked between the two of us. “Don’t make me find a roll—or six—of duct tape.” Avery mimed zipping her lips and giggled. Trace sighed and ran his fingers through his hair so that it stuck up in random directions. Shaking his head, he left the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him. I was tempted to try and pry the information out of Avery, but since I figured Trace was listening

closely, I decided not to. It wasn’t worth it. I opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a washcloth. I wet it and added some mango scented body wash. “Here,” I handed it to her. “I’m not scrubbing you down but you really need to get the dirt off of you.” “Some best friend you are,” she took the cloth from me. Her eyes were looking a little less glazed and I breathed a sigh of relief. The door opened a crack again and Trace’s tan arm poked through. In his hand was a loose gray tshirt. “I thought this would be more comfortable than her dress,” he mumbled. I stood and took it from him. “Thanks,” I said as he closed the door once more. “I’m so sleepy,” Avery muttered. “And lonely. I’m really lonely, Livie.” I sat on the bathroom floor and eyed her. “Why are you lonely?” I drew my legs up and rested my arms on my knees as I waited for her answer. “I miss Luca,” she leaned back in the tub, staring at the ceiling. “Then why don’t you tell him that?” “Because, I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve anyone.” “Avery, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Of course you deserve him.” In my opinion, Avery and Luca were perfect for each other. He was the first guy that ever seemed to be able to handle her. Our freshman year of college, she’d had a different guy in her bed every night—the library had been my best friend at that time. “No, I don’t,” she bit down on her lip and—oh my gosh, were those tears in her eyes? Avery never cried. “I’m ruined.” I had never heard her say anything like that before. Maybe all the alcohol in her system was giving her loose lips. “You’re not ruined, Avery,” I shook my head. “You’re definitely not normal,” I laughed, “but I wouldn’t consider you ‘ruined.’” “You’re too nice to be my friend,” she frowned. I stood and grabbed a fluffy towel. “You look like you’re clean, and I’m exhausted. Let’s get you dry and in bed.” She reached under the water and pulled the drain plug. I had to help her out of the bathtub since her legs were on the shaky side. I dried her with the towel and helped her into Trace’s t-shirt, before brushing out her red hair. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You’re the bestest friend of all the bestest friends in the world.” “That’s a pretty big compliment,” I laughed, opening the door. Trace sat up and I laughed at his makeshift bed on the couch. Ace was asleep on the floor beside him. “Need help?” “I think I’ve got her,” I shuffled along with Avery clinging to my shoulders. I got Avery into the bed, and by the time I pulled the sheet up over her, she was already snoring. “Figures,” I snorted. I got into bed and in no time exhaustion consumed me.

When I woke, Avery was still sound asleep. I eased from the bed, not wanting to disturb her. I quietly closed the bedroom door behind me. I smiled when I turned and saw Trace in the kitchen making breakfast. Between sips of coffee from his beloved Yoda mug, he was singing, and feeding Ace pieces of bacon. “Morning, beautiful,” he ceased his one-man musical when he noticed me. “Coffee,” he handed me a steaming mug, full of sugar and cream, just the way I liked it. I was a sugar addict, but what sane female wasn’t? I took a seat at one of the barstools that overlooked the small kitchen. “Whatcha’ making?” I peered over the edge of the bar top to try and catch a peek. “Pancakes from scratch, because I’m awesome like that,” he smirked, leaning a hip against the

counter. “Of course,” I laughed. “How could I forget your awesomeness?” “Why do I feel like you’re mocking me?” He put a hand to his chest. “Because I am,” I peered at him over the rim of my coffee mug. “You wound me,” he chuckled, grabbing an old bottle of ketchup that contained the pancake mix. “Really, Trace?” I raised a brow and pointed at the bottle. “I was being resourceful,” he smirked, squirting several dollops of pancake mix onto the hot griddle. “See? It’s so much easier.” “Do you want a round of applause?” “Normally,” he leaned across the counter so that our faces were only inches apart, “people don’t ask. They automatically applaud my awesomeness.” “You’re one of a kind,” I couldn’t hide my smile. “There’s no point in being like everyone else. That’s boring.” He shrugged and stepped back. He grabbed a spatula from the drawer and flipped the pancakes. I slid from the stool and gathered the butter and syrup. I also swiped a piece of bacon while I was at it. “I saw that,” he laughed, pinching my side. I danced away, but he reached out and grabbed me. He pulled me against him and proceeded to nuzzle my neck. “Ugh,” Avery groaned, stepping out of the bedroom, “you guys are too fucking sweet.” “Morning to you too,” I said to her, trying to pry myself out of Trace’s arms, but he was too strong. “Trace! Let me go!” I giggled. “Fine,” he turned me around so we were face to face, and kissed me loudly before letting me go. I stumbled and he grabbed my arm to steady me. “My kisses always make her dizzy,” he joked to Avery. I rolled my eyes. “He wishes.” Avery took a seat on one of the barstools and I sat beside her. Trace placed a plate in front of each of us and since there were only two barstools, he hopped up on the counter to eat. “You made this?” Avery asked him, pointing at her pancakes with her fork. He nodded. “Like, it’s not from the freezer section at Wal-Mart?” He laughed. “I made it myself. Having a dick doesn’t mean I can’t cook.” “I’m impressed,” Avery stared at her plate, nibbling on a piece of bacon. “I am quite impressive,” he chuckled. Ignoring Trace, I turned to Avery. “Are you feeling better?” “Yeah … thanks for taking me in last night … I couldn’t go home and … just … thanks,” she wouldn’t meet either of our eyes. “You know you’re always welcome here,” I told her. “Yeah,” Trace agreed. “I’m sorry for showing up drunk though,” she mumbled. “It’s okay,” I shrugged. She frowned, poking her pancakes with her fork. “No, it’s not.” She looked so sad that I couldn’t help reaching over and giving her a hug. “You’re much too good of a friend for me,” she mumbled. “Avery, stop being such a Debbie Downer,” I smiled as I pulled away, hoping to lighten the mood. “Sorry,” she frowned, staring at her still uneaten pancake. I looked up at Trace, silently pleading with him to leave so I could talk to her. “Huh?” He raised a brow, a piece of pancake sticking halfway out of his mouth. Most people would’ve looked stupid like that, but not Trace. He looked like a model at all times. I looked at Avery and back at him, then nodded my head towards the door. “Oh!” He exclaimed, hopping off the counter. “Gotcha!” He saluted me. “Come on, Ace. Potty time,” he headed towards the door. Once he was gone, I asked, “Avery, what’s going on? Please, talk to me.” She bit down on her lower lip, refusing to look at me. “I can’t.” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry, Livie, but I can’t talk to you about this. Not to anyone.”

I tilted my head, studying her. Whatever was going on with her ran a lot deeper than I had originally believed. “I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything.” “Not about this.” She shook her head back and forth rapidly. Swiftly, she stood, the barstool almost falling over from her quick movements. “Tell Trace I said thanks for breakfast.” Not meeting my eyes, she asked, “Do you have some clothes I can borrow? My dress is ruined and I don’t exactly want to wear your boyfriend’s shirt home.” “Sure,” I said softly, slipping from the chair, and padding across to the bedroom. She followed closely behind me. Avery was a lot curvier than I was but I managed to find a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that should fit her. “Here,” I handed it to her. “You—um—weren’t wearing a bra and we aren’t exactly the same size.” I had a decent sized chest, but Avery’s was a lot bigger. There was no way those were fitting in one of my bras. “I’ll make do,” she smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. She let out a defeated breath as I closed the door behind me. I leaned my head against the door and closed my eyes. I was used to the crude, slutty, Avery I’d always known … this new sad and moody Avery was someone I didn’t even begin to understand. I didn’t know how to handle her. The apartment door opened again and Trace poked his head inside. “Where’s Avery?” He asked me. “Changing,” I rubbed my hands over my face. I hadn’t even finished breakfast and I was ready to go back to bed and start this day all over again. “Is everything okay?” He asked, coming all the way into the apartment. Ace scampered over to me and proceeded to slather my arm in dog kisses. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I just don’t know.”

“Do I look okay?” I asked Trace, coming out of the bedroom in my black cap and gown. He laid his guitar to the side, sticking the pick between his lips, and sat up. After I started getting better, he’d taken guitar lessons. He said music helped him to cope with everything. My way of coping had been to pretend it didn’t happen. He was dressed nicely in a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. I may have grown to love his plaid shirts, but he cleaned up good. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked me up and down. “What do you want me to say?” He asked, taking the pick from between his teeth and placing it on the table. “I feel like this is a test, and I’d really like to pass so I can be rewarded later,” he smirked. I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a test, Trace.” “It’s a cap and gown, Olivia. It is what is. But,” he stood and strode towards me, “I know no one else will look as beautiful in it as you do.” “You’re so full of crap you stink,” I narrowed my eyes at him. He threw his head back and his laugh filled the small apartment. “Oh Olivia, you never cease to amuse me,” he guided me towards the door. “Is your family coming?” I asked, being extra cautious on the steps that led to the parking lot. While Avery had made sure I’d gotten used to wearing heels, heels plus the long gown equaled dangerous territory for me. Hopefully Trace was paying attention and could catch me before I face-planted … because that was a definite possibility. Oh, gosh! What if I fell in front of the entire class? I took a few deep breaths. I’d done fine at the wedding, but my dress had been short so it wasn’t like it could get tangled in my shoes. “You have really got to stop worrying,” Trace’s voice broke into my thoughts. “You’re going to get a wrinkle right there,” he swiped his thumb between my brows. “And yes, they’re all going to be there. You know Gramps wouldn’t miss this.” I smiled. Trace’s grandpa had welcomed me into their family with open arms and I honestly loved that man like he was a blood relative of mine. Trace’s grandma, mom, and brother were amazing as well, but not quite like Gramps. Warren Wentworth was an all-around special person. I stumbled into Trace’s car. I made sure no part of the gown was sticking out of the car before shutting the door. I smiled over at my ‘new to me’ Ford Fiesta. It was purple and a nice upgrade from my old Ford Focus. Trace had been more than willing to buy me a fancy new car, he’d thrown around names like Mercedes and Land Rover, but I wanted to buy my car by myself. I didn’t want to be dependent on Trace. I knew he meant well, but I was stubborn, and I didn’t really like being showered in lavish gifts. I wasn’t that kind of girl. Simple was my way. I took the cap off my head and twisted it around in my hands. “Ready?” Trace asked.

I nodded. “Mhmm.” He chuckled and pulled out of the parking lot, waving to a humped over Pete, the owner of the garage, who was scolding one of the mechanics for something. Trace’s apartment was fairly close to the University, but it took longer than usual to get there because of all the people trying to get into the school for graduation. My phone rang and I pulled it out of the cup holder where I’d put it earlier. “Hey mom,” I answered. “Where are you? Are you at the school? Nick and I are in the parking lot.” “We’re almost there. Stuck in traffic,” I frowned, craning my neck to see how much further we had to crawl before we could turn into the parking lot. “It’ll probably take us another five minutes. I have a parking pass though. Wanna meet us at the student parking lot and we can all walk over together?” “Sounds good,” she replied and the line went dead. We eventually made it into the parking lot and found a spot to park the car. Thank God I wasn’t one of those girls that took forever to get ready, otherwise I probably would’ve missed my own graduation. It was set to start in thirty minutes. Knowing Avery, she’d rush in at the last possible second. Trace held my hand as we walked towards my mom and Nick, who were standing beneath the shade of one the large trees dotting the campus. I had unzipped my gown and it flowed behind me. A slight breeze picked up and the air felt amazing against my heated skin. It had to be close to one hundred degrees outside and I was already nervous, therefore I was turning into an unattractive sweaty mess … and graduation hadn’t even started yet. A flash went off and I glared at my mom as we joined them. “Mom!” I whined. “At least give me a little warning.” She laughed. “Liv, I learned a long time ago that if I warned you I was taking your picture, you ducked and ran.” “That’s because I hate having my picture taken,” I defended, fighting a smile. “You better get over that phobia real quick,” Trace warned. “Why?” The word had barely left my lips before he was pulling me against him and holding his phone out, snapping a picture. He let me go and looked down at the phone. “Oh, that’s definitely a keeper.” I stood on my tiptoes and peered around him to see the picture. “I look like a serial killer!” Trace looked amazing in the picture, of course, while I was cross-eyed and the look on my face screamed crazy person. “You look cute,” he chuckled. “Oh please,” I shook my head. “Well, well, well,” Avery sing-songed sauntering up to us, “if it isn’t the old married couple,” she poked my side, “and the new married couple.” She smirked at her brother and waved to my mom. “Glad to see that you’re back to your usual self,” Trace laughed. Avery frowned, remembering the other night. “How are you feeling?” I asked her. “Never better,” she replied too quickly. Before I could comment, she grabbed my hand and began tugging me away. “We need to go get lined up. Like, now.” I waved over my shoulder to my mom, Nick, and Trace. “I’ll see you guys in a bit,” I called. Once we were away from them I wrenched myself from Avery’s grasp. “What the heck is going on with you?” “Nothing,” she toed the ground with the pointed end of her heel. “I’m your best friend, you know you can tell me anything, right?” I questioned, looking at her sadly. “I know …” She paused. “There are just some things that it’s hard for me to talk about with anyone. It’s nothing against you, Livie.” She looked up at the sky and let out a shuddering breath. “There are things about me that no one knows.” “You can tell me, Avery,” I reached for her hand. “I would never tell anyone.” “I know you wouldn’t,” her green eyes were full of tears she wouldn’t dare let fall, “but I can’t talk about it. Okay?” Reluctantly I nodded in agreement. “Thank you,” she reached out and pulled me into a hug. “Now,” she smiled, “we really do have to get lined up.”

I held my diploma proudly in my hands and smiled widely as my mom took picture after picture. If she didn’t quit soon, my face was going to be stuck this way permanently. My cheeks were already tired from all this smiling. Trace held me close to his side and let her snap as many pictures as she wanted. Traitor. Wasn’t he supposed to be on my side? “Warren, Ellie, Lily, Trent,” she called over the rest of Trace’s family, “I want to get one of you all together.” After much directing from my mom, she finally got us lined up the way she wanted. “Okay … are you ready? One, two, three—” On three, Trent leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Trent!” Trace scolded his younger brother. My mom laughed, glancing down at the display on her camera. “Oh, I’m framing this one.” I groaned. Parents just loved to embarrass their kids. “Let me see it,” I stepped forward and reached out for the camera. “Oh gosh,” I laughed. Warren, Ellie, and Lily were smiling happily, but my eyes were wide and my mouth was open in shock as Trent’s lips pressed against my cheek. Trace was glaring daggers at his younger brother. “That is frame worthy,” I agreed. She took the camera from me and instructed us to line up again. This time, she put Trace on one side of me and Warren on the other. Smart lady. Trent was trouble. “Hey sweet pea,” Warren whispered. “I’ve missed you, Gramps,” I said before smiling per my mother’s command. At first, I had thought it would be awkward calling Warren, Gramps. After all, he was Trace’s grandpa, not mine. But now, I couldn’t call him anything else. “I’ve missed you too,” he said in his gruff voice. Coughing, he added, “Tell that grandson of mine he needs to let you out of the house more often.” “I heard that, Gramps,” Trace chuckled. “What? It’s true,” Gramps stifled yet another cough with his hand. “Are you okay?” I asked him. “I’m fine, sweetie. When you’re as old as me your lungs don’t work as well as they used to.” I glanced at him skeptically. After she’d taken over a hundred pictures of Trace’s family and me, she waved Avery over. Avery and I posed for a few pictures and then she relinquished the camera to Trace. “I want some of Liv and me, and then a few with Nick as well,” my mom told him. “You got it,” Trace nodded, holding up the camera. “Smile, Olivia.” I plastered yet another smile on my face, draping my arm over my mom’s shoulder. After about ten more pictures, she finally said she had enough. I figured her memory card was full. “Are we all going to get dinner?” I asked. “What’s the plan?” My stomach began to rumble at the thought of food. “Actually,” Trace stepped forward, “I have something planned … for just the two of us.” “Oh,” I shook my head. “I assumed—” “We’ll see you two later,” my mom smiled, hugging me. With that, her and Nick disappeared. Avery had already left and Trace’s family was slowly backing away. I narrowed my eyes. “What’s going on?” “Nothing,” he smirked, his green eyes sparkling, and giving away the fact that there was something. “Uh huh.” “Come on, we need to go home and change first. Slacks and a button down are so not my thing,” he plucked at the tight shirt. “Maybe if they came in plaid you’d like them better,” I joked. “I’d definitely like them better then,” he chuckled, reaching for my hand. We made the trek back to his car, trying to avoid the other families still dotted around campus chatting and taking pictures.

“So,” I started, “are you going to let me in on this plan of yours?” “Not a chance,” he winked. “Ugh,” I groaned. “Not even a hint?” “Nope,” he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Will I like it?” “I hope so,” he chuckled. “Otherwise … well …” “Well what?” “I can’t say,” he opened the passenger car door for me. I placed my diploma and cap in my lap as I buckled the seatbelt. As soon as Trace was in the car I asked, “Is this plan of yours going to embarrass the crap out of me?” “I hope not,” he laughed, “but you are easily embarrassed.” Once at the apartment I changed into jean shorts, a tank top, and a purple plaid shirt I’d recently bought for myself because I knew Trace would like it. I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows and tried to make my hair look halfway decent. “I approve,” Trace said from behind me. Turning, I laughed. “I thought you would,” I plucked at the bottom of my shirt. “I still think you look better in my shirts though,” he winked, pulling on a white wife-beater. He’d switched from slacks to a pair of ratty jeans. “Ready?” I nodded, slipping on a pair of Converse. He grabbed a cooler, adding drinks and sandwiches he’d made earlier. I’d noticed him making them this morning but I’d been too busy worrying about graduation to ask him about them. He slung the cooler strap over his shoulder, grabbed a soft blanket from the closet, and then picked up his guitar case. I raised a brow in question. “Still not telling,” he smirked. “Of course not,” I sighed, holding my hand out to take the blanket from him and open the door. He jogged down the steps while I locked the apartment door. “Let’s go in the Camaro,” he called. “Sure,” I shrugged. I loved Trace’s classic ‘69 Camaro. It may have been old, but it was extremely well taken care of. I put the blanket on the back seat, along with his guitar case and the cooler. I paid careful attention to the direction he was heading, hoping it would give me some kind of clue as to our destination. “Are we heading back to the University?” I asked after a minute. “No,” he chuckled, “but close.” “Tell me,” I pleaded. “Not happening, woman. Patience,” he rubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw. “Wait … are we going to the park?” “Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” He grinned. He pulled into the gravel parking lot a few minutes later. We gathered our stuff, and he took my hand, leading me in the direction he wanted to go. A huge smile spread across my face when I spotted the picnic table we’d sat on more than two years ago when I told him about my Live List. It had been hard for me to tell him about it, but even then I’d known I could trust Trace. He didn’t stop at the table like I thought he was going to. Instead, he found a shady spot under a nearby tree. He dropped the cooler on the ground and gently laid his guitar down as well. He took the blanket from my hands and spread it on the ground. “Sit,” he commanded, pointing. “Okay, bossy pants,” I laughed, but did as he said. He dropped down beside me and opened the cooler. He handed me a bottle of sweet tea and a packet of sugar, “Just in case,” he chuckled. He pulled out a bottle of water for himself and got out the sandwiches. “So, this is your special plan?” I asked, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a huge bite. Not very ladylike, but I was starving, so screw manners. “Oh, how you doubt me. The specialness hasn’t even begun yet,” he grinned mischievously. Uh oh.

“If you’re not trying to woo me with your mad sandwich making skills, what are you up to?” I questioned, finishing my sandwich. I hoped he had another hiding in there. I was still hungry. Sure enough, he tossed me a second sandwich. “I love you,” I leaned over and kissed his cheek before starting my second sandwich. He chuckled. “Do you love me or my sandwiches? Because right about now I’m feeling a little jealous of the turkey sandwich.” I blushed, suddenly not wanting to finish it. Only Trace could make eating a sandwich sound sexual. “I do make a pretty good sandwich, which shouldn’t surprise you, because I’m awesome at everything I do.” I sighed. “Sometimes, I think you talk just because you love the sound of your own voice.” He bumped my shoulder with his. “My voice is amazing. I can’t help it if I think everyone should be gifted with listening to the sound of it.” I shook my head, but couldn’t help laughing. I finished eating and put my trash in the cooler. We lay back on the blanket, looking up at the blue sky through the tree branches. I curled against his side, resting my head on his shoulder. “This is nice,” I murmured. “It gets better,” he whispered, turning his head towards me. His lips were so close that I couldn’t resist closing the distance and kissing him. When I moved back, his eyes were closed, and there was a small smile on his lips. “What was that for?” He asked, slowly opening his eyes. “Because I can,” I answered. He rolled over so he was on top of me, holding his weight above me in a push-up position. “And why can you?” “Because you’re mine,” I murmured. “And you’re mine,” he flexed his arms and lowered himself, pressing his lips against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and an embarrassing breathy gasp escaped from me. He nipped my lower lip lightly with his teeth and my fingers tangled in his hair. He pulled away, running his nose along my collarbone and leaving a trail of small kisses. He gazed down at me with lust filled green eyes and my whole body responded to that look. My heart beat faster, my breath faltered, and my body arched up, desperate to meet and connect with his. But we were in public and that was a huge mood killer … at least for me. “Does it get better than that?” My words were barely audible. Trace had that affect on me, stealing my thoughts, my breath, and now my voice. “Better,” he grinned, climbing off of me. He unzipped his guitar case and grabbed a pick. I sat up, crossing my legs under me. He closed his eyes, and his whole body shuddered, like he was scared of what he was about to do. Then he began to play, and when he sang, tears sprung to my eyes. “‘105 is the number that comes to my head when I think of all the years I wanna be with you. Wake up every morning with you in my bed, that’s precisely what I plan to do.’” He stared into my eyes as he sang his slowed down version of Jason Derulo’s song, Marry Me. “‘We’ll forever be in love, so there ain’t no need to rush. But one day, I won’t be able to ask you loud enough. I’ll say will you marry me. I swear that I will mean it. I’ll say will you marry me. How many girls in the world can make me feel like this? Baby, I don’t ever plan to find out. The more I look, the more I find the reasons why you’re the love of my life.’” The look in his eyes of complete and total love had me sobbing. People in the park were beginning to stare at us, but I didn’t care. I dabbed at my eyes, biting my lip to quiet my cries. I didn’t want to miss a moment of this. “‘You know one of these days when I get my money right, buy you everything, and show you all the finer things in life. We’ll forever be in love, so there ain’t no need to rush. But one day, I won’t be able to ask you loud enough. I’ll say will you marry me. I swear that I will mean it. I’ll say will you marry me.’” The last lyric ended in a whisper as he put his guitar to the side and pulled a small black box out of his pocket. He bent down on one knee in front of me and opened the box. My eyes widened. “Olivia, that day is today, will you marry me?” After the words left his mouth he bit his lip, and there was fear in his eyes. I didn’t know how that crazy man could ever think I’d say no. Words failed me. I brushed my tears away and did what any logical person would do in my situation. I tackle-hugged him.

“Whoa,” he cried, catching me as we fell in the grass. I brushed my lips lightly over his before kissing him deeply. “Yes,” I breathed in-between kisses. He kissed me fiercely, grabbing me by the neck with one hand and by the waist with the other, pressing me into him. His tongue brushed against my lips and my mouth opened in response. Clapping echoed around us. Heat infused my cheeks and I pushed myself off his chest. He sat up, cradling me in his lap. “I believe this belongs to you,” he grabbed the fallen jewelry box. He pulled the ring out of the box and slipped it on my finger. It was a beautiful ring, with three emerald cut diamonds. I stared down at it in awe. “Congratulations!” Someone called from the crowd that had formed around us. “I’m putting this on YouTube,” another said. “Thanks,” Trace waved, chuckling. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his manly scent. The crowd gradually disappeared and we were left relatively alone in the park. “That was—” I floundered for words. “Beautiful.” He kissed my forehead and tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “I’m glad you think so.” “You’re amazing,” I whispered, kissing his jaw. “I thought we’d already established that,” he chuckled. “Did we really just get engaged?” I asked him. I honestly was still in disbelief that the last five minutes of my life had actually happened. “Mhmm,” he murmured, “we did.” “It feels like a dream,” I breathed. “I have been told that I look like I could only exist in a dream.” I smacked his shoulder. “Don’t ruin my moment with your cocky remarks.” He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath my ear. “Sorry, I’ll keep quiet.” I reached up, cupping his jaw. “I love you, cocky remarks and all.” “Glad to hear it,” he smiled, “and I love you too, Olivia. So much.” I snuggled closer to his body. Between the warm temperature of his skin and sun shining down on us, I was getting hot, but I refused to move. “Was everyone in on this?” I asked, running my finger along the skin just above his shirt. “Yeah,” he grabbed my hands, entwining our fingers together. “I don’t know how you managed to keep them quiet. They’re not exactly the most secretive bunch,” I laughed. “It was difficult,” he shrugged. “Avery almost spilled the beans.” “Was this what she was talking about that night?” “Mhmm,” he nodded. “I thought I was going to have to tape her mouth closed. The little blabbermouth. I wanted you to be surprised, and you were, weren’t you?” “Very. I honestly didn’t have a clue,” I whispered. I was still in shock that I was actually engaged. Not that I didn’t love Trace with all my heart, but marriage had been the furthest thing from my mind. I’d been so focused on getting better for so long, then graduating and finding a teaching position, that I’d sort of put any thoughts of our future on the backburner. But this felt right. Everything with Trace felt right, he completed me in every possible way. We stayed in the park, watching the sunset, before we finally gathered our stuff and left. As Trace held my hand, he kept twisting the diamond ring around on my finger. “You like that there, don’t you?” I smiled. He opened the car door for me and as I slid inside he peered down at me, crossing his arms across the top of the door. “Very much. Even more than your tattoo,” he winked. I shook my head, laughing. “That surprises me.” “It shouldn’t.” We were quiet on the drive back to the apartment, reveling in this new step in our lives together. When the door closed behind us, he pushed me against it and kissed me deeply, before taking me to bed and showing me exactly how much he loved me.

The next morning my muscles were sore, but I was so deliriously happy that I didn’t care. I stretched my arms above my head, light filtered in from the open curtains, making the diamond on my ring finger sparkle. A smile spread across my face as I gazed at it. That smile turned to a frown though when I looked at the clock. “Crap!” I exclaimed, throwing the covers off of me. I was supposed to be at work in twenty minutes. There was no way I’d have time to shower. Marcy, the owner of the jewelry store I worked at, probably wouldn’t care if I came in late. I’d never been late once since I started working for her, but I didn’t plan on starting now. I grabbed a pair of jeans and shimmied into them, then grabbed a loose tank top with a flowered print on it. I was lucky to have a boss that wanted her employees to dress casually. Marcy truly was one of a kind. I slipped my feet into a pair of shoes and darted out of the bedroom, straight into the bathroom. I heard Trace chuckle from the kitchen. I brushed my hair and teeth, then pulled my hair to the side and quickly braided it. I added some gloss to my lips and mascara to my lashes, but there wasn’t time for anything else. “I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up,” I groaned, dashing into the kitchen and dropping a piece of toast in the toaster. “You looked too cute to wake,” he smirked. I groaned in exasperation. “But now I’m going to be late.” I opened the refrigerator and grabbed the tub of butter. The toast popped up and I pulled it out, scalding my fingers in the process. I grabbed a knife from the drawer and slathered the toast with butter, before sticking it between my teeth. “Bye,” I said around the food in my mouth. Trace chuckled in response. I grabbed my keys off the table by the door and was about to leave when Trace said my name. “Yeah?” I asked. “I won’t be home for dinner. Gramps needs to see me,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh,” I mumbled, pulling the toast from my mouth. “Is everything okay?” “I don’t know,” he shrugged, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Well, I’ll see you tonight then,” I jogged across the room and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Maybe I’ll call Avery and we can order Chinese and just veg out.” He chuckled. “I think you’re both overdue for some girl time.” “I really have to go now,” I looked at him apologetically. “Get gone then, woman,” he smacked my butt and shooed me away. “Trace!”

He was still laughing as I closed the door. By the time I got in my car I had five minutes to make it to the store. That so wasn’t happening. When I made it to the store, I ran in the back door, apologies slipping from my mouth. “Slow down,” Marcy grabbed my arm, halting my steps. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” “Sorry,” I apologized yet again. “I’m late.” “Oh honey, it’s not a big deal. You look like you’re about to have a heart attack. Sit down.” She pulled a chair out and all but pushed me into it. “I’m actually surprised to see you up and walking today,” she smirked, removing her purple reading glasses, and shoving them into her blond hair. She still had the ends died in a rainbow hue of colors. “What do you mean?” She laughed and looked down at my finger significantly. “Who do you think made that? He told me how he planned to propose, so I figured after that romantic gesture getting out of bed would be the last thing on your mind,” she winked. “I mean, if I was engaged to that sexy man of yours I’d never let him leave the bed … or put clothes on. A body like that should not be covered up.” I blushed profusely. Marcy may have been in her fifties and happily married, but she had no problem going on and on about how good-looking Trace was and what she’d like to do with him. If she was my age I’d probably be jealous. “Mom!” Alba, Marcy’s daughter, called. “Stop embarrassing, Olivia!” “What? I’m only speaking the truth! Even his armpit hair is hot!” I snorted. She did not just say that. “Ew! Mom! That’s gross!” Alba wrinkled her nose as she pushed the beaded curtain aside that hung on the frame of the door that separated the front and back of the store. “Eh, you’ll get over it,” Marcy dismissed her daughter with a wave of her hand. “Now,” she turned back to me, “what did you think yesterday when he proposed?” “I was kind of in shock,” I admitted with a small shrug. “I couldn’t believe it was actually happening.” “Oh, I wish I could’ve seen your face,” Marcy looked away, a wistful look in her eyes. “Especially since my so-called daughter is apparently never going to get married and gift me with grandchildren.” Over Marcy’s shoulder, my eyes met with Alba’s. She shook her head, and mouthed ‘crazy.’ “Well,” Marcy patted my shoulder, “I need to go work on some designs.” “Of course,” I stood, heading towards the front of the store. Alba stopped me, pulling me into a hug. “Congratulations,” she said. “Trace is a great guy. You’re really lucky.” “Thanks,” I smiled. “I’ll see you later,” she waved, heading for the back door.

I had a relatively busy day. Marcy’s store did a good amount of business, so I never had much down time, which I liked. People came from all over the tri-state area to buy her unique pieces. She made every piece of jewelry herself, often doing custom orders. I had never been much of a jewelry person … Aaron had forbidden my mom and I from wearing any, so even if I had wanted to I couldn’t. But I loved my gold star necklace that Trace had gotten me for our first Christmas, and I’d later found out that Marcy made it. It pleased me to know that she’d made my engagement ring as well. In the past two years, Marcy had become an extension of my family. I loved that crazy lady. I locked the door to the store and flipped the old fashioned sign from Open to Closed. I closed the blinds on the door and windows, and then turned the lights out. I pushed the beaded curtain aside and stepped into the back room. Marcy was working feverishly on her latest project. “Marcy,” I approached hesitantly, not wanting to disturb her. She looked up at me, raising a brow in question. “You should really go home,” I continued. “You look tired.” “I’m old,” she laughed, “I always look tired.” “You’re not old, Marcy,” I shook my head. “But you do deserve a break every now and then. You’re going to drive yourself into the ground if you keep staying here so late. Go home, have a good dinner, and take a hot bath. Please?” “Fine,” she flicked her desk light off, “but only because my eyes are tired and I’d hate to mess up this

piece and have to start over.” “Thank you,” I hugged her. “I worry about you.” “Don’t waste your time worrying about me, child,” she patted my cheek. “I don’t consider worrying about you as wasting my time.” I moved towards the cubbies where we kept our personal stuff and grabbed my purse, slinging it onto my shoulder. “You’re too sweet, Olivia,” she smiled, grabbing her own bag. I swear her purse was as big as a house. I didn’t know how she lugged that thing around. I’d seen her pull an umbrella out of it before … and not one of those small ones that folded up. We walked outside and I waited as she locked the door before we both headed towards our cars. It was seven o’ clock and the sun was still bright in the sky. “Bye, Olivia,” she waved, climbing into her yellow Fiat. The bright colored car suited her bubbly personality. I waved back, slipping into my own car. I immediately locked the doors. After what happened with Aaron I’d become a nervous wreck, anticipating danger everywhere. I wasn’t afraid to admit that I was now the proud owner of a can of pepper spray … three cans actually. I might’ve gone a bit overboard. I pulled my phone out and sent Avery a text, asking if she was available for a girl’s night. Her text was immediate, saying she’d meet me at the apartment. I was actually a bit surprised. I was expecting a half-ass excuse from her. I guess she was as much in need of some girl time as I was. I called my favorite Chinese restaurant and ordered our takeout, swinging by to pick it up. When I pulled into the parking lot of Pete’s Garage, Avery’s red Volkswagen Beetle was already there. “Do I smell chicken fried rice?” She asked me when I got out of the car with the large takeout bag. I nodded. “Gimme!” She grabbed the bag from me, not giving me a chance to relinquish it. “Geez, manners, Avery,” I scolded lightly, grabbing my keys and trudging up the steps to our apartment over the garage. “Bitch, I’m hungry,” she glared. “Oooh,” she exclaimed, peering into the bag, “they gave us extra egg rolls!” “I figured if I only got two, you’d end up eating mine,” I laughed, opening the door and waving her inside first. She set the bag down in the kitchen. “Come on, Ace!” I called. The large black lab came running out of the bedroom and to the door. “Hey buddy, mommy missed you,” I scratched the top of his head, grabbing his leash off the coatrack, and attaching it to his collar. “Don’t eat my sweet and sour chicken,” I warned Avery. She ceased pulling the boxes out of the bag. “Just one?” She pouted. “The last time I told you that you could have one piece, I ended up starving because you ate it all, the answer’s no.” “Fine,” she grumbled. I walked Ace around the block, letting him stretch his long legs. I would’ve walked him longer, but I was starving, and afraid that despite my warning Avery would eat my food. Ace bound into the apartment and over to his cushion, grabbing his favorite toy, a yellow duck, and proceeding to sling it around in his mouth. Avery was sitting on the couch, the food spread out on the coffee table, and flipping through channels on the TV. “Don’t even think about snagging one of Trace’s skittles,” I warned her, pointing to the bowl of skittles on top of the two crates that were flipped upside down and served as our coffee table. “I think he must have cameras in here somewhere. I ate … like three one time while he was working, and when he came in he knew I’d eaten some.” “Maybe he counts them before he puts them in there,” she giggled before taking a huge bite out of her egg roll. “I have no clue, but since then I haven’t touched them,” I shook my head, grabbing a water bottle, and sat down beside her on the couch. “Anything good on?” I pointed at the TV. “Say Yes to the Dress is on,” she shrugged. “That’s not too bad,” I grabbed my container of sweet and sour chicken. “So, where’s Trace at?” She asked, looking around like he was about to magically appear.

“He’s having dinner with his grandpa tonight,” I shrugged. “Aw, that’s sweet. It’s really cute how close he is with his family.” “Yeah, it really is. It’s one of my favorite things about him,” I admitted. “Ugh,” she groaned, “you guys are so in love it’s not fair. Wait! You didn’t tell me about the proposal!” She managed to stop shoving food in her mouth for five seconds in order to grab my hand and inspect my ring. “Oh, Tracey-poo did goooood. He wouldn’t show it to me when he told me his plan. I told him that as your best friend it needed my stamp of approval, but the little fucker just laughed at me. Doesn’t he understand the laws of the universe?” I laughed. “You probably would’ve told him it needed to be bigger.” The diamond ring was already plenty big, but I knew Avery. “Guilty,” she winked. “The bigger the better when it comes to everything.” “How did I end up friends with you?” I groaned. “You couldn’t resist my fabulousness. No one can,” she grabbed another egg roll. I decided to snag one before she ate them all. Avery loved Chinese food. A lot of people didn’t like Avery. She was crazy smart and never afraid to speak her mind. But she had her wild side and had no problem jumping from one guy’s bed to the next. We were polar opposites, but we clicked, and she was honestly the best friend anyone could hope to have. She had my back and I had hers … even if she did drive me crazy a lot of the time, I wouldn’t have her any other way. “So,” I ventured, hesitant of her reaction, “what’s up with you and Luca?” She sighed, running her fingers through her red hair. “I don’t know, Livie.” “I don’t believe that,” I pushed. “It’s complicated,” she shrugged, frowning. “Avery,” I reached for her hand, “I’m your best friend, you can tell me.” I’d said basically the same thing yesterday at graduation and it hadn’t done any good. But today was a new day. She shook her head. “Livie, it’s not a big deal. Really. Sometimes people drift apart. I know you’ve only had Trace and you two are perfect for each other so you don’t understand, but this is normal, I promise.” I knew she was evading telling me the truth by trying to make me feel like I was stupid when it came to relationships. Trace may have been my only boyfriend, but I wasn’t dumb. “Alright,” I sighed, grabbing a packet of sauce. I was done pestering her. If she didn’t want to tell me, then I didn’t want to know. I wasn’t going to get into a fight with my best friend over nosiness. It wasn’t worth it. “Want to watch a movie On-Demand?” She grinned. “As long as I get to see Channing Tatum’s butt.” I cringed. “Fine,” I reluctantly agreed, because I knew she needed some cheering up. Magic Mike began to play and it wasn’t long until I’d completely lost my appetite and was hiding my face behind a pillow with Chewbacca on it. Trace had a Star Wars obsession, it was one of his cute quirks like his love of ketchup that was too adorable to complain about. Although, he’d probably be pissed if I told him I thought it was adorable. I’d just have to keep that tidbit of information to myself. The movie ended and I hugged Avery goodbye, watching to make sure she got in her car and left the parking lot in one piece. My paranoia extended to everyone, not just myself. I locked the door and grabbed some pajamas, heading into the bathroom to take a shower. I pulled my wet hair back into a bun and called Ace into the bedroom. He jumped up in the middle of the bed, stretching out. I rubbed his belly as I climbed under the covers. “Night buddy, daddy will be home soon,” I yawned. He wagged his tail at the mention of Trace. While getting a dog—any pet really—had been something I wanted to do, Ace had become Trace’s dog. Their bond was special. I turned the light off and snuggled under the blankets. The bed seemed too large and too cold without Trace in it. As if sensing my distress, Ace curled against my side, his long pink tongue flicking out to lick my cheek. I giggled. I was beginning to drift off to sleep when I heard the door open. Seconds later Trace strode into the bedroom, tearing off his clothes. His shoulders were taught and his jaw clenched. I sat up, tilting my head. “What’s wrong?” He sat down on the edge of his side of the bed with his back to me. I reached out, placing my hand on

the smooth skin of his shoulder. The muscles in his back jumped at my touch. I had never seen him wound so tight before. “Trace? Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?” I begged. There was a thickness in the air, like what he was about to say was going to change everything. After a minute, he turned to me. The light from the moon filtered into the room, shining on his face, and making the tears in his glimmer. My heart broke and my chest clenched. What was going on? He reached out and cupped my cheek, gazing at me. “You know how Gramps has been grooming me to take over the company?” I nodded. Warren had taken him under his wing about a year ago. Trace still worked at Pete’s when he had the chance. He loved working on cars and didn’t want to miss out on that. But with his dad dead and Gramps fast approaching his seventy-fifth birthday, it left Trace to run the business. I knew Trace struggled daily with what was right. Did he tell Gramps he didn’t want the business? Or did he trudge on out of a sense of family duty and obligation? I hated that he had to choose. It wasn’t fair. I knew Trace was much happier living simply, not as some big CEO. But this was his family business, and he didn’t know if he was willing to hand it over to a stranger. “I thought,” he swallowed, “I thought it was just because he’s getting older and wanted to retire, you know?” He pulled at his hair. “But it’s not?” He shook his head, sniffling. “Gramps has cancer.” “What?!” I shrieked, sitting straight up in bed. I hadn’t expected those words to come out of his mouth. “He didn’t want me to tell you,” he reached for my hand holding onto it tightly, “he hasn’t told anyone, except me. But I had to tell you, Olivia. I couldn’t keep this to myself. It hurts too much,” he admitted, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and looking away from me, ashamed of showing weakness. “Cancer?” I squeaked. Tears clogged my throat and one cascaded down my cheek. Trace turned back to me, wiping it away with his thumb, his eyes full of sadness. “It’s lung cancer,” he whispered, bowing his head. “The doctor’s given him anywhere from a few weeks to a few months to live.” “No,” I shook my head, a sob crawling my throat. I grasped his forearm, needing something to hold me up. “No. That can’t be true.” I didn’t want to believe what he was telling me. I loved Trace’s grandpa like he was my own. The thought that he might not be with us much longer tore me up inside. A few weeks or even months was nothing. How could you make yourself say goodbye to someone you loved so dearly? Goodbyes were never easy, especially when they marked the end. Trace wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him. Ace grunted and jumped off the bed, unhappy at having his sleep disturbed. I was angry with myself. I should’ve been the one comforting him, not the other way around. He rubbed his hand soothingly up and down my arm. A tear fell from his chin onto my cheek. “No,” I said again, as if just by saying that word it would make what he’d told me not true. But nothing could undo this. He lowered himself until we were lying on the bed and I pressed my face against his bare chest, smearing my wet tears along his skin. He wasn’t okay. I wasn’t okay. And I wondered if we’d ever be okay again.

I woke up still in Trace’s arms. He was sound asleep, so I slipped from the bed carefully so I didn’t wake him. He needed his rest after the news Gramps dropped on him last night. My chest clenched. I couldn’t imagine a world without Warren Wentworth. There were some people that made the world brighter, and Gramps was one of them. Despite the amount of wealth he’d garnered he was still one of the most down to earth people I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. He was special for so many reasons. Tears sprung to my eyes. Not again. Nope. No more crying. With a shake of my head I padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, determined to make Trace a delicious breakfast. While I could cook well, Trace usually made all our meals because he loved it. The man was perfect … except for his dancing. I pulled out the carton of eggs and set about making scrambled eggs. By the time Trace came out of the bedroom, the eggs were ready and I’d fried bacon. “I’ve been thinking,” he started, leaning against the doorway to the bedroom, his hair sticking up adorably in every direction. “About what?” I asked, placing our plates on the bar-top that overlooked the kitchen. “I—we—need to get away.” “We do?” I raised a brow. “Yeah,” he rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw before stifling a yawn. Rumpled and straight out of bed, he was still the sexiest man I’d ever seen … it probably helped that he was shirtless and my mouth was watering at the sight of his bare chest. Seriously, how did guys get that V? It was a woman’s undoing. It made smart girls do stupid things … I would know. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been anywhere. You’ve graduated and I know Marcy wouldn’t care if you took off for a bit,” he shrugged. “Pete understands and Gramps … well … he’ll have to get over it.” “Where would we even go?” I questioned. He smiled. “Nowhere. Everywhere. It doesn’t matter.” He strode across the room until he was in front of me. He grabbed me by both arms and bent his tall frame so he could look me in the eye. “We’ve both been going through the motions for so long, Olivia. We need to get our spark back.” “Our spark back?” I looked at him like he was crazy. “Our spark for life. I miss all those crazy adventures we had when we were crossing things off your list. The spontaneity, the craziness, I miss that.” “I miss it too,” I admitted.

While the past two years had been great, I understood what he meant. We’d become like an old married couple, content to stay in and do nothing. But when we’d been crossing things off my Live List, we’d had so much fun, and had so many crazy adventures. Yeah … I wanted more adventures. “But what would we do?” I asked him. He surprised me by grabbing my cheeks and smacking his lips against mine. I’m pretty sure he slobbered on me too. Ugh, that was Trace for you. His green eyes were full of excitement. “Let’s go on a road trip.” “A road trip?” I repeated, mulling over the idea. He nodded giddily, dancing on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, we could head north. Maybe visit the lake house in Maine.” “This is crazy,” I shook my head. “We both have jobs, Trace, and what about Ace?” I pointed to the dog currently sprawled on the floor licking his paw. “I already told you, they won’t mind if we take off. As for Ace, Trent will take care of him. The freak has a ferret, I’m pretty sure he can handle a dog. Please, Olivia,” he begged, even jutting out his lower lip. He wasn’t fighting fair. I decided not to think about it. Sometimes, thinking got you in trouble, and you needed to jump in feet first and think about the consequences later. “Let’s do it.” “Really?” He lit up, but there was hesitancy in his eyes, like I might pull the rug out from under him. “Really,” I smiled. He grabbed me again, dipping me down and kissing me until I thought I’d pass out from lack of oxygen. “I love you.” “I love you too,” I murmured, clinging to his arms so I didn’t fall. “We’re really doing this?” He asked. I nodded. “You, me, and a road trip. What could possibly go wrong?” “We’ll conquer those bumps along the way together, because that’s what we do,” he grinned. “Now,” I pulled away, looking at him sternly, “if we’re doing this, we do it right.” “What do you mean?” He grabbed a piece of bacon, taking a bite. “No fancy hotels and five star meals. I want this to be a real road trip. I want to rough it,” I placed my hands on my hips, daring him to argue with me. A huge smile spread across his face. “I knew I fell in love with you for a reason.” “What?” I shrugged. “In my mind, staying in fancy hotels does not constitute a road trip. I want to stay up late looking at the stars and sleep in the car. I want to go into dingy little diners and meet normal people. I want …” what was the word he used? “Spontaneity, that’s what I want.” “I’m so glad I stopped to help you with your flat tire,” he whispered, his eyes growing dark with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. “Best decision I ever made.” “I’m glad you stopped too,” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, hugging him. “Even if I did sound like a bumbling idiot when I talked to you.” He chuckled, his chest rumbling against me. “It was adorable. Especially when you called me Prince Charming.” I blushed, burying my face against his shoulder. “You are my Prince Charming, even though you drive me nuts sometimes.” “Gotta keep things interesting, babe,” he grinned crookedly. “So,” I gazed up at him, “when should we leave for this road trip?” “I’d say tomorrow, but you’d probably kill me,” he winked. “How about next week? That should be enough notice for Pete and Marcy. Gramps will be pissed at first, but he’ll understand.” He took a shaky breath. “I need to get away. I can’t be here when he tells them, Olivia. I know I have to be strong for them and I can’t do it right now.” “I understand,” I cupped his stubbled cheek. I could see how it pained him to admit that to me and it broke my heart. “Next week sounds perfect. How long are we going to be gone?” “Two maybe three weeks, tops,” he shrugged. I had several interviews lined up in July for teaching positions, so we’d be back in plenty of time. I’d been afraid, knowing Trace, that he’d say two months. “Well, Ace,” I bent down to pet the dog, “I’m going to miss you, bud.” He looked at me with sad gray

eyes. “He’ll be fine,” Trace bent down beside me, scratching the dog behind his ears. Ace’s tail thumped loudly against the floor. “What are you, the dog whisperer now? We’ve never left him for this long. I hope he’ll be okay,” I frowned. “Trent will do fine with him, he’s an animal lover. I’m surprised the kid isn’t off somewhere preaching about saving the whales or some other shit. He used to drive my mom nuts when he was little because he was always bringing stray animals into the house. She wasn’t happy when she found the snake in her bathroom.” “I wouldn’t be either,” I laughed. “It was a garter snake, it wasn’t like it was going to hurt anyone,” he chuckled. “She ended up on top of the bathroom counter wielding a hairdryer as her weapon of choice. She wouldn’t get down until the snake was out of the house.” I snorted. “That’s funny.” “There’s a picture somewhere,” he stood, walking around the counter and sitting in front of his plate of food. It was bound to be cold by now. “Unless she’s burned them all … which is possible.” I grabbed his plate before he could snag another bite and popped it into the microwave, then did the same with mine and sat down beside him. “Good?” I asked him, pointing to his plate. “Delicious,” he leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Thank you.” I smiled, nibbling at my own breakfast. I wasn’t very hungry. While I was exited at the prospect of a road trip with Trace, I couldn’t help but wonder if now was a bad time. I understood what he’d said about needing to get away. When it was time for me to go to college, I’d picked a school in Virginia, about as far away as I could get from my home in New Hampshire. So, I knew running when I saw it, and that’s what he was doing … running from his problems. But I’d already agreed, and I was excited. There was nothing I could do now but go along for the ride.

Lily, Trace’s mom, pulled me into a hug. “It’s good to see you. I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more at your graduation, but Trace—” I held up a hand to silence her. “I know. Trace is Trace, and he had a plan, which left little time for chitchat. Although, my mom didn’t help with her endless picture taking.” “You’re her only child,” Lily shrugged, “of course she wanted lots of pictures.” “I won’t be an only child for much longer,” I laughed. “No, I guess not,” she guided me into the dining room. “Look! It’s my favorite granddaughter!” Warren exclaimed as I entered the room. My heart clenched and tears threatened to fall, but I dammed them back, because Trace wasn’t supposed to tell me and I’d hate to ruin dinner. Trace was already bound to ruin it with his announcement that we were leaving for a few weeks. “Hey Gramps,” I left Lily’s side and made my way to the head of the massive dining table, where Warren sat. I bent and kissed his wrinkled cheek. He grabbed my left hand, inspecting the ring. “Bought time my lousy grandson put a ring on your finger.” I laughed, squeezing his hand. “When’s the wedding?” He asked. “We haven’t talked about—” “Gramps!” Trace groaned, coming into the room. “Don’t scare her, I just proposed.” “When you’re as old as me, these questions are important,” he coughed. I looked up at Trace and saw several emotions war across his face. He met my gaze and tried to hide his frown. I knew what he was thinking, because I was thinking it too, Gramps might not be alive to see us get married. I couldn’t imagine not having Gramps there … since I didn’t have my own dad, and had never met my grandparents, I’d assumed Warren would walk me down the aisle. If that didn’t happen … it would break my heart.

Trace stopped beside Gramps chair, on my other side, and patted his shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll talk about it soon.” “Make it snappy.” “Will do, Gramps,” Trace chuckled, taking a seat. I took the seat beside him as Cecilia brought out the food. My eyes widened at the sight of the food. It was always a feast at the Wentworth’s. “Where’s Trenton?” Lily looked around the room, realizing that her youngest son had yet to arrive. “Probably sleeping,” Trace shrugged. “It’s one in the afternoon!” She shrieked. “I’m calling him and he better get his butt here.” Before she could get her phone, Trent breezed into the dining room. “Sorry I’m late,” he grumbled, pulling his baseball cap low over his eyes. “I was up late studying last night.” Lily narrowed her eyes. “Your classes ended a few days ago, Trenton. What could you possibly be studying?” “The female anatomy,” he smirked. “Trenton Carson Wentworth! Don’t speak that way!” Throwing her hands in the air, she mumbled, “I miss the days when I could put you in time-out.” “I don’t,” Trent chuckled, sliding into a seat. “You used to forget about me and I’d spend hours sitting in a corner. Some people would consider that child neglect, mom.” “Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. “It’s true,” he grabbed a roll, slathering it in butter, and sticking half of it in his mouth. “And I’d hate for you to go to jail. Orange is definitely not your color.” “You’re so kind to me,” Lily laughed, joining the rest of us at the table. Ellie, Trace’s grandma, watched Trent with an amused smile. The Wentworth boys were one of a kind. Sometimes it still blew my mind that Trace and Trent had grown up in this mansion and were so … normal. You’d think the kind of wealth they had would have gone to their heads, but the whole family was completely down to earth. I nibbled on a piece of roasted chicken, trying not to moan in pleasure. Cecilia made the most delicious meals. Even Trace couldn’t top them. Trace and I tried to have dinner with his family every week. It was something I always looked forward to. I’d heard horror stories from other girls about their boyfriend’s family not accepting them, but the Wentworth’s had taken me in with open arms from the moment they met me. As the meal wound down and Cecilia brought out a homemade cheesecake, Trace cleared his throat. “So—uhm—there’s something Olivia and I need to tell you guys,” Trace said, draping his arm across the back of my chair. Everyone looked up in interest. I stared down at the table to avoid their curious stares. “We’re going on a road trip. We leave Monday.” Well dang, he didn’t waste any time sugar coating it. I waited with bated breath for the uproar that was bound to ensue. I wasn’t prepared for what Lily had to say though. “Oh thank God,” Lily breathed, “for a second there I thought you were pregnant.” I blushed, taking a huge bite of cheesecake so I wouldn’t have to say anything. “Calm down, mom. No babies for like … another year,” he winked at me. My eyes widened. A year? Was he crazy? I began to choke on my cheesecake and he beat my back. “A year?” I squeaked when I could talk. “You never know,” he grinned. To avoid a panic attack I ate more cheesecake. Yeah, that was better. I was sure cheesecake could solve all the world’s problems. Trace slid his desert plate my way. Smart man. “Where are you going on this road trip?” Lily asked with interest. “North,” he shrugged. “I don’t know where we’ll stop along the way, but I thought maybe we’d head to the lake house and stay for a bit.” “You should, it’s lovely there. I’m sure Olivia would love it. How long will you be gone?” She asked, taking a sip of wine. “Two or three weeks,” he shrugged, “which means Trent needs to watch Ace.”

“Whoa!” Trent exclaimed, tipping his chair back on two legs and waving his hands. “No way! I didn’t sign up for that, get someone else to do it!” “Dude, you have a ferret, I think you can handle a dog.” “My townhouse has a one pet limit, sorry,” Trent argued. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Did you forget who’s paying for your townhouse?” Trace eyed his brother. “Shit.” “Come on, Ace isn’t a bad dog. You can handle it,” Trace pleaded. “But Bartholomew likes to run around on the floor. If Ace steps on him, that giant will kill him.” “I think Bartholomew will survive two weeks in his cage and you could always put Ace in your bedroom and let the little carpet shark run around,” Trace shrugged. “Problem solved.” “You have an answer for everything,” Trent snorted. “Fine, I’ll do it. But only because Ace is cute and I’ve always wanted a dog.” “I knew you’d come around, little brother,” Trace smirked. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever,” Trent took his hat off and twisted it around in his hands. “You owe me for this,” he pointed a finger warningly at Trace. “I don’t know what it is yet, but it’ll be big.” “You’re ridiculous,” Trace shook his head. “Boys,” Lily interrupted in a warning tone. “Stop it. I mean it.” “Sorry, mom,” Trace bowed his head. “Sorry,” Trent grumbled reluctantly. Despite the way they might sometimes act, I knew they both hated disappointing their mom. “I better get going,” he stood and kissed his mom’s cheek. “Thanks for lunch.” With that he brushed out of the room without a backwards glance. “What’s got his panties in a bunch?” Trace asked his mom. “How am I supposed to know? He’s nineteen, Trace. He hasn’t told me anything in a long time,” she sighed, finishing her wine. “I’m gonna go talk to him,” Trace mumbled, looking towards the doorway. “I’ll be right back,” he told me. “Mhmm,” I nodded. Trace had been gone a minute, when Warren said, “Olivia, can I speak with you?” Automatically, I felt like a small child who was about to get scolded, which was silly. “Of course,” I wiped my mouth free of crumbs and took a sip of water. He stood up and waited for me to do the same before guiding me out of the grand dining room and into his office located towards the middle of the mansion. He closed the door behind us and motioned for me to sit on the large leather couch. I’d only been in Warren’s office a few times, but I loved it. Every wall was covered in floor to ceiling built in bookshelves stained in a rich dark color. It was sophisticated but warm and welcoming. It was the kind of room that I would love to curl up in and read a good book. Clearing his throat, Warren sat down beside me. “There’s something I need to tell you, Olivia,” he started. “I’m sure Trace has already told you, even though I asked him not to, but in case he hasn’t I’m just going to say it.” He took a deep breath. “I have cancer.” Even though I’d been prepared to hear those words, having Warren say them brought back everything I’d felt when Trace had told me—only this was a hundred times worse. Not being able to help myself, I opened my arms and dove at him. He wrapped me in a hug, rubbing my back soothingly. “Please, don’t cry,” he kissed the top of my head. “I don’t want you to cry for me, sweetie. I’ve lived an amazing life and it’s time for me to go. There’s no need to mourn that.” I put a fist against my mouth to stifle my sobs. Gramps was the one dying and he was comforting me. “I need you to listen to me, sweet pea,” he took me by the shoulders and pulled me away so I was forced to look in his eyes. “Can you do that?” I nodded, taking deep breaths in the hopes to quiet my sobs. “I’ve known about the cancer for a long time now, more than a year, and I chose to forgo treatment. I didn’t want to … wither away. I wanted to enjoy every last moment with all of you. I hope you can understand that.” My lower lip shook with the threat of tears.

“You and Trace are the only people that know. I’m not telling anyone else. I don’t want any of you to look at me differently. I plan to enjoy these last few weeks of my life as if nothing’s wrong.” “Weeks?” I squeaked. “Trace said you had anywhere from a few weeks to a few months,” my voice cracked. “I told him that to give him hope,” Warren took my hand, holding it tightly in his. His skin was warm and a healthy color. Nothing about him screamed that he was sick. Nothing but that cough. How could someone appear outwardly healthy but be fighting such a vicious disease on the inside? “I know my death is going to be hard on my family, you included, but it’s going to be hardest on Trace. He already lost his dad,” Warren took a shaky breath. “I need you to be strong for him. I need you to comfort him and keep him grounded. Can you do that?” His eyes held a shimmer of hesitance. I knew it was hard for him to ask me this, because he knew I was hurting too. “Of course. I’d do anything for Trace and I’d do anything for you, Gramps,” I hugged him. He smelled slightly like peppermint … like comfort and home. “You’re a strong girl, Olivia. Stronger than Trace gives you credit for.” “I don’t know about that,” I tried to laugh around the tears. “You are,” he whispered. “Sometimes it’s the quiet strength that we have to watch out for.”

“I think that’s everything,” Trace grinned, closing the trunk of his Camaro, and pushing up his thick framed black glasses. He grabbed me around the waist, plastering my body against his. My hands landed against his chest. The thin cotton tank he wore did little to mask the amazing muscles he was hiding underneath it. “Are you ready to be stuck in a car with me for weeks?” He smirked, bending his head and grazing his lips against my chin, before biting gently with his teeth. Every time he did that it left my brain a pile of mush. “Mhmm,” I murmured, closing my eyes. “It’ll be fantastic if you keep doing that.” “This?” He asked a moment before he placed a kiss on my collarbone and then bit it. “Yeah, that.” “I think I can arrange to do that often … all over your body,” his lips glided over my shoulder, up my neck, and settled over my own. I felt slightly lightheaded when he stepped back. “You’re way too good at that,” I groaned. “There’s more where that came from,” he winked. I smiled, shaking my head. “Is Trent picking Ace up here or are we dropping him off at his apartment?” “Dropping him off. We’d wait forever for that loser,” Trace chuckled. “I’ll be right back,” he held up a finger and dashed up the steps into the apartment. He appeared a moment later with Ace on a leash and the bag of dog things I’d packed. “Did you put everything the dog owns in here? This is heavy!” He grumbled, awkwardly making his way down the steps. I laughed, taking the leash from him. “No, but dog food is heavy,” I informed him, ushering Ace into the backseat. “Did you put a blanket down so he doesn’t scratch the leather?!” Trace exclaimed from behind me, trying to peer over my shoulder. “Calm yourself,” I laughed, “of course I did.” Not only was Trace a mechanic, but he was a car enthusiast. Heaven forbid he think there was a knick on one of his ‘babies.’ “Before we leave, are you sure you have everything?” He asked. I rolled my eyes. “Just as sure as I was the last ten times you asked me.” “Just checking,” he chuckled, getting in the driver’s side. He patted the dashboard and said, “Let’s roll.”

Trent’s townhouse was surprisingly nice. I shouldn’t have been surprised though. Even before I came along, Trace’s apartment had been pristine and didn’t resemble the typical bachelor pad. While the furniture and wall colors were of a masculine variety, nothing screamed that he was a college freshman living on his own. A furry creature ran between my feet and I let out a yelp. At my cry, Ace began to bark and tried to pull the leash from Trace’s hand so he could run after it. “Bartholomew! Come back!” Trent chased after the ferret. “I swear I put him away!” Trent called to us. “He’s a little escape artist! Aha! Got him!” Trent exclaimed, grabbing up the furry little creature. “Bad,” he scolded the ferret, before putting it back in its cage. He ran his hand through his hair and smiled crookedly. “Sorry about that.” “Yeah, well,” Trace said dryly, “are you sure you can handle this?” “Having doubts about me so soon?” Trent batted his eyelashes. “I’m offended. Especially after you forced me to agree to this.” “I didn’t force you,” Trace groaned. Trent raised a brow. “Okay, so maybe I was a little pushy,” Trace shrugged. “A little?” Trent shook his head and then smiled at me. “I don’t know how you put up with this idiot.” “Sometimes I wonder myself,” I laughed. “We need to get on the road,” Trace held the leash out for Trent to take. I bent and said goodbye to Ace, then hugged Trent. “Thank you for doing this,” I whispered in his ear so Trace couldn’t hear, “I’m sorry he was so bossy.” “It’s fine,” he whispered back, “I like to give him a hard time.” Trace was watching us with narrowed eyes. “I know you two are talking about me. I’m not stupid.” “Never thought you were,” Trent smacked his brother on the shoulder, “now get out of my house. I don’t want to see your sorry ass for at least two weeks.” “How I got stuck with you for a brother is beyond me,” Trace shook his head as he left. “Have fun,” Trent chuckled, waving goodbye to me. I waved back, closing the door behind me. Trace was already waiting in the Camaro with his sunglasses on and the windows rolled down. “Where are we heading first?” I asked, buckling my seatbelt. “Pittsburgh,” he answered, speeding out of the neighborhood, and making a sharp turn. If he slung me against the door so help me— “Trace!” I groaned, when my shoulder slammed against the door. “Don’t do that! It hurts!” “Sorry,” he grinned, so I knew he really wasn’t sorry. “Why are we going to Pittsburgh?” I rubbed my shoulder. “It’s a surprise,” he sat back, a small smile playing on his lips. “You and surprises … I’m not sure I’m fond of this idea,” I eyed him. “It’s nothing bad. I promise.” “Now I’m scared,” I pulled my hair to the side and began to braid it. Leaving it down to whip around my face was not an option in my book. I didn’t want to spend an hour having to untangle the wavy ends because Trace had the windows down. “It’s okay to be scared,” he took my hand, “that makes the end result all the more fun.” “You have a twisted sense of logic,” I laughed, tucking my legs underneath me. “There’s a method to my madness,” he squeezed my hand. “Wait and see.”

And that’s how I found myself parked outside of the old Heinz factory that now served as a museum on the company and the city of Pittsburgh. There was a large lit up ketchup bottle that was filling up the Heinz sign with ‘ketchup.’ “Really, Trace? Really?” I placed my hands on my hips and stared him down. “Ketchup? That’s the first thing you want to do on this road trip?” “It’s a museum dedicated to the founder of the best ketchup, of course this was the first thing I thought of. Don’t ever doubt my love of ketchup,” he grinned, sliding out of the car, and opening the

trunk. I followed, eyeing him with suspicion. “What are you doing?” I asked as he rummaged through his suitcase. He held a hand, halting me. I sighed, taking a step back and crossed my arms over my chest. “Found it!” He cried, pulling out a red piece of fabric and zipping his suitcase closed. Much to my dismay he began to remove his trusty plaid shirt and wife-beater in the middle of the parking lot. He dropped the garments in the trunk and closed it before putting the red shirt on. I snorted when I saw that it was his I Love Ketchup shirt I’d bought him a few years ago. “What?” He grinned, his eyes a light playful green. “I can’t come to the former Heinz ketchup factory without my ketchup shirt. It would be blasphemy.” “Of course it would,” I laughed, letting him lead me into the building. He paid the ten-dollar entrance fee and then dragged me around like an excited little kid. He oohed and ahhed, pointing out things here and there that he thought was fascinating. “I like your shirt,” one guy said in passing. “Thanks!” Trace called after him. “See?” He smirked at me, fighting a laugh. “People love my shirt.” “Are you forgetting I bought it for you?” “No,” he draped his arm over my shoulders, “I’m just pointing out its obvious awesomeness since you can’t seem to see it.” We completed the tour and then he dragged me into the store area. He raced straight towards the apparel section and grabbed a shirt. He turned and held it out to me. “Look, Olivia! We can be twinsies!” “Oh God,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “There’s no way I’m wearing that,” I glared at the red shirt with the Heinz ketchup label on it. “Please, for me?” He pouted. Ten minutes later I found myself wearing the stupid shirt. Damn him and his persuasive ways. Those pouty lips and green eyes were always my undoing. I tugged on the shirt as I followed him outside and towards the car. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I grumbled, staring down at the shirt. He chuckled. “You look cute in it.” “You’re a liar. I look ridiculous,” I shielded my eyes from the sun with my hand. He stopped in his tracks in front of me. He stared down at me, cupping both of my cheeks in his large hands. “I would never lie to you, Olivia. You are cute, and beautiful, and smart, and amazing, and a thousand other things.” “Now someone’s just trying to get laid.” “Don’t get me wrong,” he smirked, “the sex is great, but it’s not why I love you.” “Good to know,” I smiled up at him. “Hungry?” He asked, opening the passenger car door for me. “Starving,” I admitted just as my stomach let out a very unladylike growl. He laughed at the sound. He entered something into his phone and a minute later it was directing us to a restaurant. We pulled up in front of a place with a large lit up sign in blue letters that declared it as Primanti Brothers. “Have you been here before?” I asked him as I got out of the car. I knew Trace and his family used to travel a lot, especially when his dad was still alive. “Yeah,” he nodded. “You’re about to feast upon a heart attack on bread.” “I’m a bit afraid now,” I eyed him apprehensively. “Don’t worry, it’s delicious and you’ll love it.” “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I laughed. I glanced down at my new shirt and then at his. “People are going to think we’re so weird.” “Weird is beautiful,” he kissed my cheek. “You have such a way with words,” I poked his side as he held the door open for me. “I once won a poetry contest,” he smirked, adjusting his glasses as we stepped into the dim restaurant. “Sure you did,” I laughed in disbelief as we picked a table. I grabbed one of the menus off the table

and began to flick through it. “Wait, they put fries and coleslaw on the sandwich, not on the side?” Trace nodded, tapping his fingers against the wood tabletop as he perused the menu. I studied a picture of one of the sandwiches, my mouth dropping open in disbelief. How the hell were you supposed to take a bite of that monster? It was huge! Trace slammed his hand down on the menu, blocking my view of the picture. “Don’t look at it,” he smiled, “you’ll get overwhelmed and it’s not like you have to eat it all.” “I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat one bite.” “Trust me,” his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, “it’s delicious. Want me to order for you?” “Sure,” I shrugged as he slid my menu away. Trace had known me long enough to know what I liked and didn’t like. A waitress came and he placed our order. Once she had walked away, I asked, “What are we doing next? Are we staying here a bit longer or heading somewhere else?” “So many questions,” he chuckled, spinning the peppershaker along the tabletop. “I thought maybe we’d head towards Philadelphia. I’m a big history dork,” he winked, “it probably comes from living where there’s so many Civil War battlefields and museums. Anyway,” he crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair, “I’ve never been to Philadelphia and I’ve always wanted to see the Liberty Bell and go to the museums in the area.” “Sounds good to me,” I shrugged. “I’m down for anything.” He grinned widely and I knew I was in trouble. “I’m glad you said that,” he smirked. “As long as it’s not something that might possibly get me killed,” I warned him. “Or arrested.” “Done,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “You know,” he leaned towards me, “I should probably be offended that you think I might possibly subject you to something dangerous. You’re the one that made me get in a hot air balloon that one time.” “You surprised me,” I argued. “You didn’t have to do it.” “But I did,” he grinned, pushing his hair from his eyes. “Don’t complain about it then.” “You’re mean,” he chuckled. “You know,” I leaned towards him conspiratorially, “it surprises me that you were scared, what with the tattoos and bad boy demeanor you’re always sporting.” “Hey,” he defended with a grin, “I’m not afraid of heights. I just couldn’t handle the teetering basket thing. What if it tipped all the way over and we fell to our death without any protection?” “If that was the case, then I don’t think anyone would ever get in one. They’re safe,” I explained as the waitress set our drinks on the table. Mmm, sweet tea. I’d never tried the stuff until I moved to Virginia, but I was now a sweet tea addict. “Obviously,” he smiled in amusement. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?” He raised his glass of water, taking a sip. “Yeah, we are,” I mumbled, overcome by sadness. We were alive, we were healthy, and we had our whole lives ahead of us. But Gramps … “Olivia?” Trace said my name hesitantly, placing his hand overtop of mine where it rested on the table. “What’s wrong? What did I say?” “It’s nothing,” I took a shaky breath. “Oh,” he frowned as realization hit him. “You’re thinking of Gramps.” I nodded. “You know,” he started, biting down his lips, “I understand that every life has a limit. I watched my dad die and I almost did the same with you,” his eyes grew sad. “But that doesn’t make it any easier. When you look at someone, you don’t see an expiration date. You see life and that makes death so much harder to accept.” His words were true. I turned my hand underneath his so that it was palm up and gave it a squeeze. “You’re so wise,” I smiled. “Hardly,” he snorted. “I’ve just had way too much experience with this. Seeing my dad killed tore me apart, Olivia. You never get over something like that. Then having to watch you dying in front of me, and being unable to do anything to save you, was another blow. Watching you in that hospital, waiting for you to wake up,” the lines of his face darkened and his lips turned down, “I vowed then to never watch another person I loved have to suffer that way. I can’t do it. I know that’s weak of me,” he

laughed humorlessly, “but it’s true. Going on this road trip might be taking the cowardly way out. But I have to. I can’t stay home and watch Gramps wither away. Especially with the others not knowing,” he took his hand from mine and rubbed his stubbled jaw. His eyes had a faraway look in them. I looked down at the table, overridden with guilt as I remembered what Warren had told me. He hadn’t told Trace the whole truth, but he had told me for some reason. By the time we got back from our road trip—I couldn’t even think about it. After what Warren had confessed to me, I’d told him that I would talk Trace out of the road trip. But he hadn’t wanted that. He’d taken me in his arms, given me a great big bear hug and said, “Don’t do that, Olivia. Trace needs this. I see it in his eyes. Go and have fun. Live for me.” It had been hard to say goodbye to him after that, but I’d done it, because that was what he wanted. I gazed across the table at Trace. We were both lost in thought. Slowly, his eyes met mine. The sadness that swirled in the green depths was reflected in my own. I knew he was thinking, not only of Gramps, but of his dad and what had happened to me. I knew it was selfish of me, but I’d never really stopped to think about how he had been affected by what happened to me. I could see in his eyes how much he had suffered watching me lie in that hospital bed and then with the slow recovery process. At the time, I’d only been able to think about how I was hurting. But Trace had hurt too. The waitress set our food on the table and we both snapped back to reality. He forced a smile and pushed his glasses further up his nose since they kept slipping down. I hated seeing him so sad. I only ever wanted him to be happy. When you love someone unconditionally, when they hurt you hurt, and right now I was in so much pain that I couldn’t stand it. From now on, I was going to make sure this road trip was only about the two of us and all the fun we could have. I eyed the massive sandwich in front of me and smiled at him, hoping to lighten the mood. “I still don’t know how you expect me to eat this.” “You’ll manage,” he chuckled, picking up his own sandwich and taking a massive bite. “Delicious,” he said around his mouthful of food. A dollop of coleslaw sat in the corner of his mouth. I reached across the table and wiped it away with a swipe of my thumb. His eyes dilated as I took my thumb between my lips and sucked it away. “Woman, we’re in a restaurant and you’re purposely trying to turn me on. That is so not fair.” “I didn’t do it on purpose,” I laughed. “Honestly.” “Mhmm, suuure,” he narrowed his eyes. I shook my head, fighting a smile. I picked up the sandwich and attempted to take a bite without the whole thing falling apart. “Mmm,” I moaned, “this is actually really good.” “See?” He brightened. “Don’t doubt me.” “When have I ever doubted you?” “You doubt my awesomeness on a regular basis. It wounds my delicate heart,” he placed a hand over his chest. “There’s nothing about you that’s delicate,” I snorted. “I am delicate … like a little flower,” he joked. I was glad that we were both able to put our earlier conversation behind. But that was one of my favorite things about Trace. He was always genuinely happy and able to make jokes. He didn’t like to dwell on bad things. Something I had learned was the bad things don’t matter, it’s our reaction to them that does.

Darkness had fallen by the time we made it to Philadelphia. Trace found a small motel and pulled into the parking lot. “You said you didn’t want five star. Does this suffice?” He asked. The place definitely wasn’t the best, but it didn’t appear to be the worst either, it was perfect. “It’s great,” I smiled. The truth was, I didn’t need fancy hotels or cars or lots of money. I had Trace and that’s all I’d ever need. Everything else was just the … icing on the cake, as some people liked to say. “I’ll be right back,” he said, slipping out of the car. “Lock the doors … just in case,” he warned. “This area seems a bit sketchy.” “Sure thing,” I saluted him, causing him to chuckle. He returned a few minutes later with the room key and I unlocked the doors, stepping outside, and stretching my sore muscles. Riding in a car practically the whole day was not the most comfortable thing. Trace grabbed both of our duffel bags, carrying them easily. I put a hand over my mouth to stifle my giggle at the sight of him carrying my flowery bag. It was a stark contrast compared to his plain black one. I followed him down the pathway a short ways. He stopped in front of a room that had once been labeled 3, but now half of the number was missing, its imprint still visible in the slight discoloration of paint on the door. “Here goes nothing,” he pushed the door open. I immediately pinched my nose closed. “Oh my gosh! Did something die in there? It smells awful!” His lips turned down in a frown and his brows furrowed together. “The dude seriously wants to charge me a hundred dollars a night for this dump?” He asked incredulously. “I’d rather sleep in the car,” I took a step away, gagging at the pungent smell, and too scared to glance in the room and see what it actually looked like. If it was as frightful as the smell—I shuddered at the thought. “I think we might have to,” he closed the door. “I know you said no fancy hotels, but I refuse to sleep anywhere that smells like five people died in it.” He put our bags back in the car and then went inside to argue with the man working there in the hopes of a refund. I buckled my seatbelt and then double-checked to make sure I’d locked the doors. After smelling that room, Trace was right to be concerned about possible creepers. Ten minutes later, he came outside shaking his head. I unlocked the doors and he settled himself inside. “That fucker only wanted to refund me fifty percent of what I paid.” “Is he crazy?” I gasped. “We didn’t even go inside the room!”

“But apparently, since we opened the door housekeeping has to clean the room,” he shook his head in exasperation. “What housekeeping?” I grumbled. “If they actually had someone to clean the rooms they wouldn’t smell like that.” “Exactly!” He exclaimed with a small chuckle. “Please tell me you got all your money back?” “After threatening to call the cops and report this place he finally gave me the money back,” he put the car in reverse and drove around, looking for somewhere else to stay. “I can’t believe they wanted to charge you a hundred dollars in the first place,” I shook my head in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.” “It really is,” he sighed, scanning the streets for another motel to stop. Everything was either full or looked too gross to even contemplate. Finally, when were both about to give up, we spotted a place. Trace pulled into the parking lot and instead of sitting in the car, I followed him inside. The place wasn’t grand, which I knew it wouldn’t be, but it was clean and didn’t smell like decaying flesh. I almost gaged at the thought of the putrid smell that the other motel had possessed. I found a vending machine and got a packet of Skittles for Trace and M&M’s for myself. “Hey,” he grabbed me by the waist when he spotted me. “Don’t take off like that. I thought someone took you.” “Sure you did,” I rolled my eyes. “If they had, I could take them,” he flexed his arm muscles. While Trace was tall and lean, he was also muscular. It was a lethal combination … especially when he whipped out his panty-dropping smile. I hadn’t stood a chance against his charms when I met him. “I know you could,” I smiled up at him. He had already proved that he was more than capable of protecting me when Aaron attacked me and he managed to get the psycho off of me. He’d punched Aaron so hard he’d given him a concussion. The jerk deserved more than that, but he was dead now, so there was no point in dwelling on it. Trace was my hero in more ways than one. Not only did he save my life that day, but from the moment I met him he taught me how to live … and eventually how to love. His lips brushed against my forehead and my eyes fluttered closed at the feather light touch. Even something as simple as that managed to make me feel so many different emotions. “Come on,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my skin with his words, “let’s get our stuff.” He grabbed the duffel bags and we headed towards our room. I crossed my fingers, praying that this one was nothing like the other one. The door squeaked open and like a chicken I closed my eyes. “Olivia?” Trace’s voice sounded from inside the room. “Why are you standing outside?” I hesitantly cracked one eye open. The room was bathed in a pale orange glow from the ugly bedside lamp. The bed covers looked like they were from the nineties, with some kind of palm leaf design on them, which made no sense seeing as we were in Pennsylvania, not Florida. “It’s not bad,” I stepped inside, looking over the carpet and walls for mysterious unexplainable stains. Thankfully, there weren’t many, but I’d be keeping my shoes on anyway. The place was about as nice as any motel could be, and it didn’t smell bad, which was a plus. Not even the scent of cigarettes lingered in the air. Trace stepped behind me and closed the door, latching the deadbolt. I made sure the blinds were completely shut before stripping out of my clothes. Trace had his back to me, completely oblivious to what I was doing. I unclasped my bra and threw it at his back. He turned sharply, his eyes widening in surprise. A grin spread across his face as he said, “My little vixen.” At one time I would’ve blushed at his words. But I was a different, more confident, woman now. I grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him into the bathroom and closing the door. “I like where this is heading,” he smirked before lowering his head and pressing his lips to mine. He picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, clasping the hair at the nape of his neck between my fingers. He shuffled towards the shower, reaching inside to turn it on. I pulled his shirt

off and tossed it into the corner of the bathroom, then gently removed his glasses and set them on the counter. He nipped at my lips and chin gently with his teeth, driving me crazy like he knew it would. I slid down his body, unbuttoning his jeans. He grabbed a condom packet from the pocket and kicked them off. Both still in our underwear, he pulled me into the shower. I shrieked at the cold temperature but he silenced me with a kiss. The water began to warm … or maybe it was my internal temperature … but it didn’t matter. Our lips moved in sync, our bodies melded together. We truly were made for each other in more ways than one. He kissed me slowly, teasing me. His tongue slipped between my lips and I gasped in pleasure. A part of me had thought that after all this time we might get … bored with each other or something, but honestly, we were more in love than ever. I cupped his stubbled cheeks in my hands, deepening the kiss. “Trace,” I pleaded between breaths of air. “I need—” “What do you need, baby?” He cut me off. “Tell me.” “I need you,” I pleaded. “You have me,” he kissed the sensitive skin of my neck, causing me to shiver. I had forgotten about the water beating down on us and was completely absorbed in the moment. He tore my panties off and they landed on the bottom of the shower with a wet thud. His boxers soon followed. Then he was lifting me, pressing my back against the tile, and slipping inside me. An embarrassing moan of pleasure escaped me and he hummed in response. My eyes met his lust filled green ones and my muscles tightened. That look in his eyes, the one that said he loved me completely, always managed to get to me. I never thought I’d have a man look at me the way Trace does. With so much love and devotion. I thought that kind of love only existed in fairytales. But it was real. I had it and everyone should get to experience it. A breathy moan escaped my lips and I gripped his shoulders. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against the skin of my neck before peppering it with kisses. I wanted to tell him that he was wrong. He was the beautiful one. Not just on the outside, but on the inside as well. I didn’t believe there was anyone else as kind, amazing, and pure of soul as Trace. From tidbits he’d confided in me over the years, I knew after his dad died he’d gone off the deep end, and even before that he’d been more concerned with being the rich party boy … but somehow he found himself and the person he truly was, was quite remarkable. More people should aspire to be like him. “Trace,” I moaned, my hold on him tightening. “Let go, baby,” he murmured. “It’s okay.” He kissed me deeply and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I let go, clinging to the high, knowing he’d catch me when I came crashing back down.

Trace pulled a loose blue and gray plaid shirt on over his wife-beater, leaving it unbuttoned. Grinning, he shook his head like a dog, spraying water droplets from his hair all around the room. “That’s a cute look,” I giggled, assessing the mess he’d made of his hair. It was currently stuck up in random directions. “Thought I’d try something new,” he smiled proudly. “You don’t like it?” “It’s … interesting,” I tilted my head, studying him, as I leaned against the doorway to the bathroom. He reached up, brushing the strands down. “Better?” “Better,” I crossed the room, flopping on the bed. “I’m so tired and I didn’t even drive any,” I groaned, stretching my aching and sore muscles … although, they were tired for a completely different reason now. “Get up,” he reached for my hand, pulling me into a sitting position, “we’re not going to sleep yet.” “We’re not?” I frowned, looking at the bed longingly. All I wanted to do was curl up in the bed and go to sleep. “Nope,” he shook his head. “Today’s fun hasn’t ended yet.”

“Ugh,” I covered my face with my hands, “how are you always so … chipper?” “I have a lot to be happy about,” he kissed my cheek. “There’s no point in wasting time on being sad or miserable when there are so many amazing things you can be doing instead.” “At least let me put on some mascara and eyeliner,” I pleaded. Thankfully I was dressed in shorts and a tank top. If I had already put on pajamas, no amount of pleading on his part would have gotten me to agree to leave. “Fine,” he said as I stood. “But make it snappy, woman,” he smacked my butt. “Trace!” I groaned. “Honestly,” I shook my head back and forth as I squatted on the floor to search through my duffel bag for my makeup case. “What? You have a nice ass. My hands can’t control themselves.” He held his hands in the air, smiling like an innocent little boy. But we both knew he was far from innocent. “Sure they can’t,” I rolled my eyes, heading for the dingy little bathroom. I put some mascara and eyeliner on, like I said I would, and then fluffed my damp hair. It still looked like crap so I ended up pulling it into a side bun and securing it with a ponytail holder. It still wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing. “I’m ready—are you wearing a fedora?” I stopped in my tracks, staring at Trace like he’d grown three heads. “I am,” he took it off doing some kind of fancy trick with it on his hand before replacing it. “I think I look mighty sexy in it.” “You say that about everything,” I laughed because it was true. “I have to admit you look pretty hot though. Did you steal that from Luca?” Trace stretched his legs out on the bed and crossed his arms behind his head. “Yes, yes I did, and you better not tell him or he’ll kill me for stealing one of his beloved hats. He has about—” “He has as many fedoras and vests as you have plaid shirts and ripped jeans,” I interrupted. “Exactly,” he nodded, “so he shouldn’t notice.” “He’s probably already called the police,” I laughed, tying the laces of my converse sneakers. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously,” he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. “Ready?” I nodded, curious as to what he had up his sleeve, but I knew better than to ask. Besides, surprises could be fun. Sometimes. He got in the car and we drove a few miles away from the motel, parking outside a bar. “A bar? Really, Trace? No. Just no,” I shook my head. A bar was definitely not my scene. True, I was twenty-two and legal to drink, but I didn’t enjoy contending with annoying drunk people. I had better things I could be doing, like sleeping. “Calm yourself,” he snorted, “it’s not what you think.” I pointed to the lit up sign in the window of the establishment. “See that? It says bar. B.A.R.” “Now’s not the time for your adorable sarcasm. See that sign,” he pointed to one above it, nearly smacking me in the face by accident. “It says, music lounge. Now untangle your panties from the wad they’re currently bunched in and get that cute ass in there.” “So demanding,” I sighed, fighting a smile as I opened the car door and stepped outside. He grabbed his guitar case and we headed inside. The place was packed with people. I didn’t know how they all managed to fit inside. Trace took my hand, pulling us through the crowd. The walls and bar were covered in a dark wood, and the concrete floor was painted black. Instead of the typical white or yellow light bulbs, they were all blue, giving the space an almost ethereal glow. Trace found an empty high-top table and snagged it before someone else could. A waitress came along, looking frazzled and exhausted, to take our order. “Can I get a drink for you guys?” She asked, fumbling for her pen. “Sweet tea, please,” I smiled at her. “Uh …” Trace paused, “A beer.” “What kind?” She asked. “Surprise me,” he grinned, showing his ID. “I’m adventurous. Oh, and we want an order of cheese fries.” “Alright,” her hand fluttered over her notepad and she seemed even more flustered than before. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was nervous over his request, or his appearance. I’d probably looked much the same when I met him the first time. “I’ll be right back with that,” she smiled, tucking wispy

pieces of blonde hair behind her ear. “So,” I nodded towards his guitar case, “I take it you’re going to play.” “Of course,” he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he played with the fedora, “and I’m hoping this really hot girl I know will sing with me,” he batted his eyelashes. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” I snorted. “Nice try, bud.” “Aw, come on,” he bumped my shoulder with his and then ran his hand up my thigh, “I can be very persuasive,” he whispered huskily, his lips brushing against my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed and my breath faltered. Damn him. “Quit it,” I pushed his hand away before he had me agreeing to things I shouldn’t be. “You have such a beautiful voice, Olivia,” he ran his finger lightly up my bare arm and I shivered in response. “But-but,” I stuttered, “there are a lot of people here.” “They don’t matter,” he coaxed. “Please, one song?” His eyes pleaded with me to give in. “I-I-I-don’t know,” I closed my eyes to avoid his gaze. “You know you want to,” his voice grew husky as his lips tickled the curve of my ear. “I’ll reward you later, and trust me, it’s a prize you don’t want to miss out on.” “O-o-okay,” I agreed. I was a weak person, but I didn’t know anyone on the planet—especially one with ovaries—that could resist his charms. “I knew you’d agree,” he removed his hand from my body and sat on his barstool looking mighty proud of himself. “You don’t play fair,” I glared at him. “No one said I had too,” he smirked, taking a bite of one of the cheese fries. I stared at the food and drinks in shock. I hadn’t known the waitress even brought them. Trace had managed to make everything else disappear. It was an annoying talent he had. Although, it might prove useful since I’d agreed to sing and I would need to be sufficiently distracted so I didn’t throw up on anyone. Talk about embarrassing. “Not bad,” he muttered after taking a sip of beer. “Want some?” He held the bottle out to me. “No thanks,” I slid my glass of sweet tea closer to me, “this is fine.” “Suit yourself,” he shrugged, taking another sip. “It might … loosen you up a bit,” he winked. “Gosh,” I groaned, “how do you make everything sound like a sexual innuendo.” “I’m … very talented,” he waggled his eyebrows. “You’re a pain in my ass, that’s for sure. I’m not sure about talented though,” I reached for a fry covered in cheese and drenched it in ranch. “That hurts,” he chuckled, his lips turning up in a small smile. “I didn’t know your ego could be bruised,” I joked, adding a sugar packet to my supposedly ‘sweet’ tea. “My cockiness is a ruse to hide the hurt little boy I am behind the handsome face,” he stared at me seriously for a moment before busting into laughter. “How do you come up with this stuff?” I asked rhetorically, but he answered me anyway. “My mind works in mysterious ways,” he smirked, grabbing a handful of cheese fries and stuffing them into his mouth. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “That’s gross, Trace.” “What?” He mumbled around a mouthful of food. “I’m hungry … somebody had me working off all my energy earlier.” “Oh please,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re insatiable and you know it.” “Only when it comes to you,” he smiled widely, his green eyes light and playful. “Good to know,” I laughed. Between the two of us we managed to eat almost all of the cheese fries. I think we’d both been starving. “Well,” he stood, grabbing his guitar case, “I better get ready.” “You already signed up to sing, didn’t you?” I questioned. “Before we even got here?” He nodded. “I always have an agenda, babe,” he kissed my cheek before heading for the stage area. He bent to speak with someone, whom I assumed was a manager at the bar, and then he was escorted behind the stage. I really hoped he didn’t do something to humiliate me. But knowing Trace, the lengths to which he’d go to embarrass me were endless.

I turned in my barstool, so I could see the stage better. Somebody’s arm brushed mine and I jerked in response. “Sorry,” they said, and their voice was way too close for comfort. I turned my head sharply and found a guy about my age sitting in Trace’s vacant chair. He had curly blonde hair and pale blue eyes clouded over from alcohol. “Can I help you?” I questioned, giving the guy the benefit of the doubt. “I just saw you sittin’ here and thought you looked lonely,” he slurred with a grin, leaning much too close to me. Somebody needed to teach this guy the rules of personal space because he was all up in my bubble, and if it popped, I could not be held accountable for my actions. “I’m not lonely,” I said sternly, glaring at him, “so run along now.” I waved my hand in dismissal, hoping he got the message. He grabbed my arm, squeezing much too tight. I bit down on my lip, breathing in and out sharply, hoping to avoid a panic attack. I hadn’t done well with strangers touching me after what Aaron did to me. “There’s no need to play hard to get,” he flipped a stray blonde curl out of his eyes. “I’m not playing anything,” I tried to yank my arm from his grasp but he was too strong. “Let me go!” I screamed as panic crawled up my throat. Tears burned my eyes. I pulled my arm again and this time I managed to get him to let go, but I went falling from my seat in the process and landed on the ground, smacking the side of my face sharply against the concrete floor. “Olivia!” I heard Trace yell, his voice echoing around the whole bar as he yelled into the microphone. I’d been so preoccupied with Mr. Touchy Feely that I hadn’t seen him come out on stage. Before I had a chance to move, Trace’s familiar scent surrounded me, and his large hands were on my body picking me up. “Olivia,” he whispered, looking me over. “You’re bleeding.” I reached up and felt around my eye. My fingers came away with a small smearing of blood. “It’s not that bad,” I shrugged. His jaw was clenched tight and his eyes screamed murder. “You’re hurt.” He shoved me behind him and glared at Mr. Touchy Feely who was still sitting in his former seat. “I didn’t do anything,” he held his hands up in surrender. “She just fell.” “She didn’t just fall,” Trace seethed. “You grabbed her arm and you wouldn’t let go. When a girls says no, it means no!” Suddenly, he was reaching out and grabbing the guy by the shirt collar and lifting him out of the chair. Holy shit, I knew Trace was strong, but this guy was double his size and built like a linebacker. “Dude, let me go,” Mr. Touchy Feely tried to pry Trace’s hands off of him, but it was pointless. Trace was in a rage and there was no stopping him. “I wasn’t gonna hurt her.” “I don’t care what your intentions were,” Trace growled, right up in the guy’s face as he shoved him into a wall. “When a girl tells you to let her go, guess what? You let her go!” He shook the guy forcefully. I hadn’t seen Trace get this angry in a long time … not since Aaron attacked me. Trace was an easygoing guy and it took a lot to get him riled. “Trace,” I whispered, placing my hand on his taut arm. “I’m okay.” Slowly, he turned his head towards me, and some of the anger drained out of him. He released the guy, but not before giving him a hard enough shove that he went sprawling to the ground. The guy looked up in disbelief. For a second I thought he might attack Trace but instead he chose to pick himself up and walk away. I guess he wasn’t as dumb as he looked. “Stay here,” Trace growled, bowing his head as he walked away. The brim of the fedora hid his gaze from me and I chewed my lip nervously. Within seconds he was back, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. “We’re leaving,” he took my hand and practically dragged me out of the building. People stared as we passed, the blue lights in the bar making them look strange—almost alien. We drove back to the motel in silence, his grip so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles turned white, and his jaw was clenched. I wanted to say something, but I figured silence was better. He opened the motel door, letting me in first. I sat on the edge of the bed, nervously fiddling with the edge of my tank top. “Trace—” “I’ll be back,” he said in a steely tone, slamming the door closed behind him as he left. I jumped at the noise.

My bottom lip trembled with the threat of tears, but I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t. Frustrated, I tore off my clothes and changed into pajamas. I climbed under the itchy covers; eyes wide open. Let him leave. I didn’t care. Honestly, I didn’t. Okay, I did. And that’s why it hurt.

“Baby, wake up. Wake up,” someone shook my shoulders. But I didn’t want to wake up. I’d been dreaming and it had been so good. “Olivia, wake up. I need to see your face. Come on. That’s my girl.” My eyes opened to see Trace smiling down at me. Why the heck was the jerk smiling at me when he’d left me in a rage? I scooted away from him, my brows furrowing in anger. “Leave me alone,” I snapped, glaring at him. “Olivia,” he whispered my name, reaching over to turn on the light. “I went to the drugstore and got some things,” he held up a plastic bag, shaking the contents. “You just … left,” I seethed. He bowed his head, his forehead wrinkling. “I’m sorry. I was angry, but not at you, never at you,” his green eyes pleaded with me for forgiveness. “That guy hurt you, Olivia. It made me mad and I’m sorry you had to see me like that. But I’m not sorry for protecting you.” He reached a tentative hand out to me. After a moment, I placed my hand in his. “Come here,” he coaxed. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before scooting close to him. He brushed a piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers skimming over my cheek and hovering there. Anger flashed in his eyes again. “You’re going to get a black eye,” he growled. I placed my fingers just below my eye and winced. The skin was surprisingly tender. I didn’t think I smacked the floor that hard. I guess I was wrong. “I fell,” I frowned, “it’s not like he hit me or anything.” “If he hadn’t grabbed you, you wouldn’t have fallen,” he growled, the tension returning to his body. I grabbed his forearm. “I’m fine, Trace. I promise. It doesn’t hurt.” “Whatever,” he grumbled, standing. He strode into the bathroom and I heard the faucet running. He returned a moment later, kneeling in front of me. He reached up, gently rubbing a wet washcloth against my face. I closed my eyes, letting him work. When I opened them, he was staring down at the pale pink smear on the white cloth with an angry look on his face. Shaking his head, he grabbed the shopping bag and pulled out a bottle of Advil and water. He shook one into his hand and gave it to me. “Take this so you don’t get a headache.” I felt fine, but I took it anyway to make him feel better. Then he pulled out one of those instant cold packs and gently laid it against my eye. I hated to admit it, but it actually felt pretty good. I put my hand overtop of his. “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me,” he growled. “If I hadn’t left, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” I rolled my eyes. “Trace, you can’t blame yourself for every bump or bruise I get. This wasn’t your fault.” “Yes, it was.”

I pushed his hand off my face, the cold pack falling to the bed, and cupped his cheeks in my hands as I stared into his eyes. “Why do you insist on taking the blame for everything?” “When things are my fault, I like to accept responsibility.” “What happened back there wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t mine, and it wasn’t even really that guy’s fault.” Trace growled at my words. “Okay, maybe it was a little bit his fault.” “That’s better,” he forced a smile. “But you’re not my bodyguard, Trace. You can’t be there for me all the time. I’m going to stumble and fall and have to pick myself back up sometimes. You can’t save me.” “That doesn’t mean I’m ever going to stop trying,” he leaned in, resting his lips against mine. He didn’t really kiss me; he just held his lips there, brushing them against mine. It was the sweetest almost kiss I’d ever experienced … even if I was still mad at him. He pressed his lips more firmly against mine before pulling away. His gaze dropped and he picked up the ice pack. “Ice your eye,” he handed it to me, “it’ll help with the swelling.” I did as he said, crawling back under the covers. The cold from the ice pack made me shiver. He climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around me. I probably should have pushed him away since he was being so weird, but I was cold, and his arms felt like heaven around me. The truth of the matter was, I wasn’t really mad at him. I understood where he was coming from. If Trace was hurt, I wanted to be there to pick up the pieces. I felt his lips brush against the back of my neck, his stubble scratching my sensitive skin. Time passed and I thought he’d drifted off to sleep, but then he spoke. “I’ll always keep you safe. No matter what.”

I woke up covered in a thin sheen of sweat since Trace was plastered to my body. He had me hugged against his chest like a human-sized teddy bear. It would be cute—if I wasn’t the teddy bear. I pushed his heavy arm off of me, sliding out of the bed, and falling on my butt. So much for trying to be stealthy. I could never be a ninja. Luckily, Trace didn’t stir at the sound of my fall. He was sound asleep, his mouth slightly open. It was completely unfair that he was cute even when he slept. I woke up every morning looking like Medusa. Boys had it so much easier. I picked myself up off the floor and tiptoed across the room and into the bathroom. I eased the door closed behind me and locked it. My eyes widened when I saw my face. “Holy crap,” I frowned at my bruised eye. It looked like someone had punched me, not like I’d tried to hug the floor. I knew I’d have to hide it before Trace woke up but none of the makeup I’d packed would cover up this purple sucker. I decided to shower first and then head across the street to where I remembered seeing a drugstore— probably the same one Trace had gone to last night. I secured my hair into a messy bun on top of my head and dressed as quietly as possible, before snatching the room keycard off the dresser and slipping outside. Now, I had to hope he didn’t wake up while I was gone. Knowing Trace, he’d wake up and think I’d been kidnapped. I avoided looking at anyone directly as I grabbed a bottle of liquid foundation and checked out. I knew people would think my boyfriend had hit me, and since that definitely wasn’t the case, I’d rather avoid awkward question and answer sessions. Trace was still asleep when I came back into the room and I let out a sigh of relief. Usually, Trace didn’t sleep long after I’d gotten out of the bed. He must have been really tired. I had just finished hiding the bruise on my face when he woke and strode into the bathroom. “Hey,” he muttered groggily, hugging me from behind and pressing his hips against me. “Trace,” I groaned, prying myself from his arms. “It’s morning. I can’t help it,” he yawned. “You already showered,” he stated, taking in my wet hair and fresh clothes. I nodded. “I wanted to get the bar smell off of me.” He reached up and smoothed his thumb beneath my left eye. I hoped he didn’t wipe the makeup away. “I thought for sure that would bruise,” he whispered to himself. “It didn’t,” I said a bit too quickly, backing out of the bathroom and away from him. “I’m—uh—going

to get us some breakfast while you shower.” He eyed me suspiciously. “Ooookay,” he drew out the word. “My wallet’s on the dresser, grab some cash.” “I notice you didn’t say to grab your car keys,” I taunted with a grin. “No one but me drives the Camaro. Ever,” his eyes were serious but he was fighting a smile. “It won’t take me long to shower. Why don’t you wait and we’ll go together?” “I can do that,” I crossed my arms over my chest, “but there’s a McDonald’s right next door. I won’t be far, so you don’t need to worry.” “I don’t worry—” “Your pants just caught on fire with that lie.” I grabbed his wallet and snagged a twenty-dollar bill. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Stop treating me like I’m two and you have to babysit me.” His eyes narrowed and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips. “Oh, I know I don’t have to babysit you, trust me.” I chose to ignore his comment. “Go shower. You smell.” “Thanks sweetie. Love you too,” He called after me sarcastically. It was early so there wasn’t much of a line at McDonalds. Besides, this didn’t strike me as the hot spot in town anyway. I grabbed the bag of food and drinks and walked back across to the motel. They were literally right beside each other. The smell of the greasy food was making me hungry though. The cheese fries we’d had last night hadn’t been enough to eat. If I kept eating all this cheesy grease filled food on this trip I’d end up gaining fifty pounds. I had the keycard with me but my hands were full and I couldn’t get it out of the pocket of my jeans. I knocked on the door with my shoulder. Trace opened it a moment later, standing there in nothing but a towel and wet water droplets sticking to his sculpted chest. I wanted to lick him. “Whoa,” he grabbed the drink carrier that I almost dropped because I was staring at his chest. It would have been a worthy cause though. He had such a nice chest that you couldn’t keep yourself from staring at it. “Sorry,” I stepped around him as he closed the door. He placed the drinks on the dresser and tossed the cardboard carrier into the trashcan. By the time I had our breakfast sandwiches laid out he’d put on a pair of boxers and loose jeans. My eyes roamed over his body, memorizing each dip and curve of his muscles, and tracing the lines of his tattoos. “You know,” I smiled as he sat down beside me and grabbed his sausage egg and cheese biscuit, “you’ve never told me why you got a four leaf clover when I got my first tattoo.” He swallowed, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I thought it was pretty obvious,” he shrugged, “you’re my lucky charm.” I wasn’t sure if I should hug him or punch him for his cheesiness. “Don’t mess with me,” I eyed him. “I’m serious,” he crumbled up his wrapper and dropped it in the paper bag. “From the moment I met you my life had meaning again,” he looked at me seriously. “I’m not one to confess all my feelings and be gushy, but it’s true. When I met you …” He paused, his brows furrowing together. “I was finally getting over what happened to my dad and seeing the damage I’d caused to my family. But meeting you is what truly changed me. You made me laugh again, Olivia. That may seem like something simple,” he cupped my chin in his large hand, “but when you go years without laughing at anything … when all your thoughts and feelings are only bad. Laughing takes on a whole new meaning. So yes, you’re my lucky charm.” “I-I-I don’t know what to say,” I stuttered, shaking my head. I hadn’t been expecting a deep meaningful answer from him. But I should’ve known. All of his tattoos meant something important to him. “Don’t say anything,” he reached for my hand and entwined our fingers together. “Words aren’t always necessary.” I swallowed thickly. “Do you ever think,” I whispered, “that we met for a reason?” He brought our joined hands up to his heart and I could feel its steady beat. “Every single day of my life.” I laid my head on his bare shoulder. “Before you came along, I never thought about falling in love or marrying someone,” I glanced down at my engagement ring, “but now I can’t imagine not having

that.” “I know what you mean,” he kissed the corner of my mouth. “Some things come along when you need them most, and at the time, you don’t even realize that you need them.” “Exactly,” I whispered. Fate worked in mysterious ways. The night I’d met Trace, I’d wanted nothing more than to get back to my dorm without being raped or murdered. When Trace had come along, I hadn’t known how much that single moment would change the rest of my life. But boy, am I glad that it did. “Are you gonna finish that?” He pointed to my half-eaten egg McMuffin. “No,” I handed it to him, “you can have it.” “So, besides seeing the Liberty Bell what else do you have planned?” I asked, gathering up our stuff and putting it in our duffel bags. “Independence Hall, maybe some museums,” he shrugged, finishing the last bite of my sandwich. “Are we only visiting museums on this road trip?” I raised a brow. “I thought we were going to have fun, not be bored to death.” “Museums are fun!” He defended. “But no, we’re not just visiting museums. After this, I don’t know which way the wind might blow us.” “Except north,” I stated. “You keep saying we’re heading north.” He looked like deer caught in headlights for a moment, but he shook his head and the look was gone. “Yeah, uh, I want us to go to the lake house. Remember?” He stood, pulling on his shirts. “Mhmm,” I muttered, eyeing him suspiciously. “What are you up to?” “Nothing,” he replied a bit too quickly, “nothing at all.” “Trace,” I said his name warningly. “Is there something you need to tell me?” “Absolutely not,” he shook his head, grabbing our bags. He grabbed the room key as well as his car keys, picked up our bags, and breezed out of the room. I knew avoidance when I saw it, and that’s exactly what he was doing. What the hell was he up to? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I scanned the room several times and even looked under the bed to make sure we weren’t leaving anything behind. When I was sure we had all our belongings I headed out to the car. Trace already had the car started and his sunglasses on. He was fiddling with his phone as I slid inside. “What are you doing?” I asked. “I made a playlist for our road trip,” he mumbled, pushing a button on his phone. The sounds of Lifehouse’s Gotta Be Tonight blared from the speakers. For an old car it had one heck of a sound system. For all I knew Trace had upgraded it. I knew absolutely nothing about cars. Trace seemed to know where he was going and since I didn’t want to be the annoying, nagging girlfriend—fiancé—I kept my mouth shut. Maybe in a few days I would finally realize that we were engaged. It was still so new that I kept forgetting. “Alright,” Trace parked the car, “we should be able to walk to the Liberty Bell from here as well as the museums.” “Walking’s fine with me. Especially since I’m going to be cooped up in the car with you for a couple of weeks,” I laughed. He frowned, removing his sunglasses and hooking them into the collar of his shirt. “I don’t know why you say that like it’s a bad thing. I’m awesome to be around. You should be happy that you’re being rewarded with my presence twenty-four seven. Not many get that pleasure.” “You’re too much to handle sometimes,” I shook my head. “And yet,” he smirked, tapping my nose with his finger like I was a small child, “you’re still here.” “There’s no place I’d rather be,” I taunted, getting out of the car before he could say anything else. A light breeze swirled around me, ruffling my hair. It was only ten in the morning but I knew it was going to be scorcher. I’d need to find some sunscreen so I didn’t end up looking like a lobster. “Which way should we head first?” Trace asked from behind me. I looked over my shoulder at him, squinting from the sun. “Does it matter?” I asked, shading my eyes. “I guess not,” he said, shrugging out of his plaid shirt and tossing it in the car, leaving him in only a wife-beater. “Geez it’s hot out,” he grumbled. “You’d think it was Florida or something.” “It’s not that hot,” I laughed. “Maybe not,” he locked the car, “but it’s still pretty hot.”

“It is,” I admitted. Sweat was already dampening my skin and we’d only been outside for a few minutes. Hopefully it would get cooler as we headed north. Scorching hot temperatures weren’t my thing. “I think Independence Hall is this way,” he pointed. “I already got tickets before we left,” he pulled two pieces of paper from his back pocket. I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m beginning to think you’ve had this whole trip planned before you even asked me.” I was only joking, but his posture stiffened and he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “That’s just silly,” he chuckled, trying to play it off. “Huh,” I muttered to myself. What was going on with him? “Come on, this way,” he grabbed my hand, pulling me after him. There was a line to get into the tour but Trace bypassed it, flashing something I couldn’t see. I gave him a peculiar look and he explained, “Sometimes having money comes in handy.” I hated to admit it, but the tour was actually pretty interesting. It made you feel so small to be surrounded by so much history. It blew my mind to think about all the important decisions that had been made in that building … in this city. It was crazy. Those people were long gone but I was sure if they knew the state we were in now, they’d think we were all a bunch of screw-ups. As we left the old brick building Trace grabbed my arm, halting my progress. “What?” “I want a picture,” he explained, holding out his phone and taking a few pictures of us. He’d done the same yesterday at the Heinz museum. I think he was determined to document every moment of this trip. We headed to the Liberty Bell next. Tickets weren’t necessary so we strolled straight on through the gates. I gazed at the bell for a few minutes in awe and read the plaque located in front of it that explained its history. “‘Proclaim liberty throughout all the Land unto all the inhabitants thereof,’” I read off of the plaque in a whisper. I looked up at Trace and said, “Those words must have meant so much to them at that time.” He didn’t hear a word I said though, he was still staring at the bell. He tilted his head from side to side. “You know, I thought it would be bigger.” I laughed. “It looks plenty big to me.” “That’s because,” he hugged me to his front, “you’re small … like a little doll.” I snorted. “Thanks,” I said sarcastically. “You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.” “What? It’s true,” his lips brushed against the top of my head, “you’re short and tiny. You do have a nice chest and ass though. I especially love your ass,” he reached down and grabbed it. “Trace!” I squealed, darting away from him. “There are people here,” I looked around at the different families. One husband and wife was staring at us with a look of contempt. I half expected them to pull out a Bible and throw it at us. “What? It’s true!” He raised his hands in surrender grinning like an idiot. “You are impossible,” I growled over my shoulder, striding towards the exit. “You need a muzzle and a leash.” “I didn’t know you were so kinky,” he chuckled behind me. When I turned around to glare at him his laugh turned into a fake cough. “You know,” he shoved his hands into his pockets, “I wasn’t quite done back there.” “Then go back,” I shooed him away with my hand. “I’ll be here.” He narrowed his eyes and before I knew what was happening he scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder. “Trace!” I shrieked as my stomach dropped out from under me. “Put me down!” I beat at his back but he was completely unfazed. People were staring and heat infused my cheeks … or maybe my face only felt so hot since all the blood was currently rushing to my head. He didn’t put me down until he was standing in front of the Liberty Bell again, and even then he held on tightly to me. Before I could run away, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of us. He chuckled at the screen. “I’m sending this one to my mom.” He was already typing madly on his phone. “Let me see,” I stood on my tiptoes to peer at his phone. When I saw the picture I gasped. “Don’t you dare send that to your mom!”

“Too late,” he grinned boyishly, shoving the phone in his pocket. “I’m glaring at you in the picture like I want to kick you … or worse.” “Exactly, she’ll think it’s hilarious. Give her about five minutes and I’m sure she’ll call me and ask what I did to you,” he laughed. “Yeah, right—” I was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. He pulled it out and smirked at the caller ID. “Told you,” he showed me the name lighting up the screen. “Hey mom,” he answered. “Why do you assume I did something? Oh, really? I only picked her up and carried her back to the bell so I could get a picture.” He was quiet for a moment and then said, “I am being a very good boy, mom,” he grinned at me. “Love you, too. Bye.” He hung up his phone and smiled. “That went better than I thought it would.” “And how did you think it would go?” I asked, walking out of the gate once more. I found a bench and sat down. “I figured she’d chew me out for at least thirty minutes. But I guess by now she knows I am who I am and there’s no changing me,” he took the spot on the bench beside me. “If I’ve figured that out in the three years since I’ve met you, then I think your mom is bound to have figured it out in twenty-five,” I snickered, tapping my shoes against the ground in a random beat. “Almost twenty-five,” he amended. “Don’t go making me older than I am, woman.” “Whatever,” I laughed, “and it’s not like twenty-five is old.” “Easy for you to say,” his nose wrinkled as he tried to pretend to be mad. I rolled my eyes. “Trace, you’ll be forty and still acting like you’re fifteen.” “True,” he laughed. “I don’t see the point in acting my age. I want to have fun,” he shrugged, “so I do.” No longer irritated with him I took his hand in mine. I frowned down at his reddened knuckles. “Trace,” I breathed, “you hurt your hand.” I looked up at him with worry in my eyes as he snatched his hand from my grasp. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, looking at a spot over my head. “It looks like it hurts,” I grabbed his hand again, inspecting it. “Why didn’t you tell me you hurt yourself?” He forced a smile. “It’s not a big deal. I didn’t realize I punched the guy that hard,” he mumbled under his breath. “You don’t need to act so macho all the time,” I scolded him, running my finger lightly over his injured knuckles. “I’m not going to love you any less.” “Honestly,” he smiled, “I didn’t even notice it until you pointed it out. I was too concerned about you.” I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly as he played with a piece of my hair. That was the kind of person Trace was, though. He was always concerned about everyone else, not about himself. I opened my eyes and found him staring curiously at me. “What?” I asked. “Nothing,” he whispered, shaking his head. Standing, he reached for my hands and hauled me up. “Let’s get out of here.”

I woke with a start as the car jerked to a stop. I turned groggy eyes Trace’s way. “What’s going on? Why are we stopping?” “Just something I want us to do,” he grinned mischievously, unbuckling his seatbelt. I yawned, rubbing my eyes. I glanced at the clock as I massaged the back of my neck. I’d been asleep about an hour. It was one in the afternoon and the sun shined through the windows. I looked around at the bridge we were parked on and at the group of people up ahead in—was that a harness? “What. The. Hell?” I gasped, scrambling out of the car just as one of the guys from the group jumped off the freakin’ bridge. His cries of joy echoed around us. I wanted to scream in terror. I peered over the bridge railing as the guy was released from the cord and dropped into the water. “I-I-I-no way,” I shook my head, putting the puzzle pieces together. Trace would’ve only stopped if he wanted us to do this. I wasn’t afraid of heights, but if Trace thought I was going to jump off a bridge, he had another thing coming for him. “Adventures, remember?” Trace grinned crookedly, pinching my hip. “Adventures, yes. Falling to my death? No.” “It’ll be fun,” he coaxed, looking at me with wide green eyes. “We’ll do it together. You fall, I fall. Always.” “Don’t try to sweet talk me,” I pushed his shoulder. “It’s not going to work.” “Oh, it’ll work,” he skated a finger over my collarbone. “Just give it a second. My powers of persuasion are too much for you to resist.” I looked over my shoulder at the group of people on the bridge. Most of them were men but there were a few women too. I’d never thought about bungee jumping before … but it could be fun … maybe … if I didn’t throw up from fear. “Fine,” I met his gaze once more, “but we’re doing it together. There’s no way I’m jumping by myself.” He grabbed my cheeks and lowered his head, kissing me passionately. He pulled away, breathing heavily and rested his forehead against mine. “I love my little spitfire.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I groaned, “let’s get this over with before I change my mind.” “You got it,” he grinned, kissing me quickly, and striding towards the group. “Hi, I’m Trace,” he held his hand out to shake the man’s hand that seemed to be in charge. “This is my fiancé, Olivia.” My heart did a little happy dance at that. “Are you Marcus?” “That’s me,” the man smiled. He was probably in his thirties, tall and lanky, with black hair and kind brown eyes. “You ready to jump?” He addressed me, not Trace. I nodded, hoping I didn’t look like a big eyed frightened rabbit.

The guy clapped me on the shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared, that makes the fall even better.” He meant his words to be comforting, but they weren’t. “Mhmm,” I mumbled, letting him guide me over the equipment scattered around. A few cars passed us, completely oblivious to the jumpers. I figured this was a regular occurrence around here. Wherever ‘here’ was. Marcus helped me into the gear, explaining what each piece was for to calm my nerves, while another guy helped Trace. “How did you know about this?” I asked him. His green eyes met mine and a slow smile spread across his face. “There was a sign a few miles back, and I thought, why the hell not.” “Lovely,” I groaned. “You’ll be fine,” Marcus assured me. “It’s not scary. People spend too much time worrying about what it’s going to be like, instead of enjoying the moment. When you fall,” his eyes got a faraway look in them, “for a moment it’s like you’re free … nothing can stop you.” I looked across at Trace with a frown. Was this dude high or something? “I know I probably sound crazy,” now he was apparently a mind reader, “but wait and see.” After we were both in our harness we hopped over the bridge railing and they hooked us together. Marcus double-checked everything, and his thoroughness managed to make me feel a bit better. “Whenever you’re ready just … fall,” he stepped away from us with a smile. I looked up into Trace’s eyes as my body shook from fear. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, “I’m right here.” He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. I pressed my face against his chest and closed my eyes. “Let’s do this,” I said with more confidence than I possessed. “One, two,” he counted and before he said three, we were falling. A scream tore through my chest and the shrill sound of it probably busted Trace’s eardrum, but he simply laughed in elation. My stomach was in my throat but Marcus was right. I felt like I was flying. Like nothing could touch me or stop me. In that moment, we were invincible. My eyes had opened and I looked down at the water shining below us, if I reached my hand out my fingers would graze the top of it, but I was too scared to let go of Trace. The cord rebounded and we went flying up in the air again. I held on tight to him, burying my face in his shirt to muffle my screams. Eventually the cord settled and we swung back and forth slowly. “Ready?” Marcus yelled down at us. Trace must have given him a thumbs up—or maybe he said something and I was still in shock and couldn’t hear him—regardless, we fell into the icy water. I hadn’t expected the water to be that cold and came up sputtering. My teeth clattered together as I looked around for Trace. He surfaced in front of me, shaking his hair out of his face. “It’s freezing,” I said unnecessarily as we swam to shore. Somehow, when they’d released us from the bungee cord we’d come undone from each other. “And now we’re in wet clothes.” I stretched out on the shore, taking a moment to let the hot sun shine against me. “Yeah,” he shook his head like a dog, sending water droplets everywhere, “I didn’t think about that part.” “Obviously,” I wrapped my arms around my chest as a shiver rocked my body. “Come on,” he hauled me up, “they have towels up there.” He located a path that led back up to the bridge and took my hand to keep me from slipping. We rounded the corner and the group faced us with wide smiles. “How was it?” Marcus asked, appearing with two towels. Bless him. “Awesome,” Trace grinned, drying his hair with the towel. Guys had it so much easier. It wasn’t fair. “Spectacular,” I admitted reluctantly, accepting the towel from his outstretched hand. “I’m sorry if I hurt your ears,” I laughed, looking up at Trace. “I’ll live,” he winked, removing his shirt and drying his chest. I’m pretty sure I heard one of the girls gasp. I dried my arms with the towel and wrapped it around my shoulders for a bit of warmth. I had an elastic on my wrist and used it to secure my wet hair in a messy bun. I found a spot to sit down in the sun and Trace joined me, stretching out his legs, and kicking off his boots.

“Still want to kill me?” He asked. I giggled, unable to answer him. A stubborn piece of hair was sticking straight up on top of his head. I reached up, smoothing it down, before answering him. “No,” I smiled at him. “I’m glad you made me do that.” His grin widened. “Can I get that in writing?” “Quit it,” I punched his arm lightly. “You know,” I looked down at my shriveled fingers, “it’s fun to do stuff that most people are afraid to do. I like that you push me to try new things and to not be so … scared.” “That’s my job,” he grinned crookedly. “What’s life without a little excitement?” “Boring,” I answered unnecessarily. “Exactly,” he snapped his fingers, “and who wants boring?” “Not me. That’s why I’m stuck with you,” I giggled. “Stuck?” He raised a brow. “I should be offended.” “But you’re not?” “No,” he shook his head, “I know exactly what you mean. I’m stuck with you too,” he grinned. “Because there’s no one else that could handle all of this,” he did an awkward shimmy, since he was sitting, as he pointed to himself. “Yeah,” I agreed with a laugh, “I don’t think there’s anyone else that could handle you … or put up with your horrible dancing skills.” He gasped, draping his towel on top of me since I was still shivering, and then wrapped his arm around me. “My dancing is awesome. Just because you aren’t familiar with the style doesn’t mean it isn’t good.” “You look like you’re having a seizure when you dance,” I smiled up at him, “that isn’t normal.” “I don’t need rhythm on the dance floor when I have it in the bed,” he grinned, thrusting his hips for good measure. “Can you—I don’t know—not do that in public?” I groaned, fighting a blush. His smile widened. “What difference does it make when you’re the one reaping the benefits?” “Do you think before you speak?” I buried my face in my hands, shaking my head back and forth in disbelief. “No,” he snorted, “where’s the fun in that?” “Sometimes, you’re as bad as Avery, and that’s saying something,” I groaned, kicking at a pebble. “There’s no point in sugar coating things,” he shrugged, drawing his knees up and draping his arms on top. Marcus came over and smiled down at us. “I noticed your license plate and saw that you guys are from Virginia. Are you passing through or might you stay here a bit?” Trace shrugged. “Maybe. We’re on a road trip and we don’t exactly have much of a plan.” “Excellent,” Marcus smiled. “I’m having a bonfire down by the lake tonight if you want to stay and hangout. There’s also room at my house if you want to stay the night. My wife won’t mind. I think she’s sick of me anyway and would like some company,” he chortled. Trace looked at me skeptically. I shrugged in response to his look. “Sounds good,” Trace smiled at Marcus. “A bonfire would be nice and we just might take you up on your offer for a place to stay.” “Great,” Marcus clapped his hands together. “I better get back over there. We have a group of college kids coming. They can be a bit rowdy, they tend to show up drunk.” “Have fun with that,” Trace chuckled. “Oh, I will,” Marcus cackled as he walked away. “You hungry,” Trace asked me, raking his fingers through his slightly damp hair. “Yeah,” I nodded, “but I’m still wet.” “We’ll go through a drive-thru then,” he stood, shaking off the pebbles that clung to his jeans. “You really want to get your beloved Camaro’s seats wet?” I eyed him questioningly. “Damn,” he muttered, “I forgot about that.” He put his hands on his hips, lips pursed in thought. “Why don’t we just change? A bra and panties is equivalent to a bikini,” he pointed at me. “Are you kidding me?” I protested. “I’m not stripping down in front of strangers. You’re insane.” “Fine,” there was a challenge in his eyes, “I will.” He marched towards the parked Camaro. “I hate you so much right now,” I growled as I stood, stomping after him.

“Hate is a passionate word,” he sing-songed, “and I will be rewarded with all that passion later,” he glanced at me over his shoulder, holding back laughter. “I’m sure you’ll think I’m real passionate when I pull your hair,” I glared, stopping by the trunk. “Oooh, you wanna get rough? I’m down for that,” he smirked, unlocking the trunk. I punched him as hard as I could and was pleased when he let out a grunt. “I’ll show you rough,” I mumbled, looking through my duffel bag for dry clothes. I wasn’t at all pleased about the idea of almost getting naked in front of all these strangers, but Trace was kind of right, it was like a bikini. Or so I kept telling myself. “Give me one of your shirts,” I pleaded. He handed me one of his long sleeved plaid shirts and I pulled it on, quickly doing the buttons and rolling up the sleeves. While I would’ve loved to change out of my wet tank top, people were watching us, and I just couldn’t stomach it. Since his shirt almost came down to my knees, it made it easy to get the wet shorts off and replace them with dry ones without anyone seeing. Trace, apparently, didn’t have an ounce of modesty. He was smiling crookedly at me as he stood in just his boxers. “Put some clothes on,” I rolled my eyes. “Yes ma’am,” he saluted me, grabbing a pair of jeans and a dry shirt. I shook my head and got in the car. I knew if I stood there, it would only enable him to do something stupid and embarrassing. Instead of getting in the car, he jogged over to Marcus and they exchanged phone numbers. “What was that about?” I asked when he got in the car. “Thought it would make it easier when we meet up later,” he shrugged, pulling away from the group. “Oh, of course,” I shook my head. I looked around at the bright green leaves on the trees and the grazing cattle. “Where exactly are we?” “New York,” he answered. It was crazy to me that we had just left home and were already several states away. But we had a lot farther to go before we reached Maine. Trace found a small diner and pulled into the parking lot. Several eighteen-wheelers were parked in back and there were few cars in the front. “You did mention no fancy restaurants,” he reminded me. “Yeah, yeah,” I eyed the place with suspicion, “I know.” We stepped inside the small diner and a bell chimed pleasantly above the door. “Take a seat anywhere you’d like,” a voice called out from the back. We found an empty booth in the corner by a window. The table was sticky and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. I tried to hide my frown but it was impossible. Trace laughed at my expression. “Don’t tell me you’re not grossed out,” I challenged. “It’s not the best,” he shrugged, “but spontaneity is what we agreed on.” “I didn’t agree to get a strange flesh eating disease,” I countered, wishing I had a bucket of Germ-X and a spray can of Lysol. He snorted. “You’ll live.” “I didn’t even know places like this existed in New York,” I looked around at the dirty place. Trace chuckled. “You do realize that New York is more than just Manhattan.” “Yes, I know,” I narrowed my eyes. “Just checking,” he smirked. The waitress came striding up to us with a pleasant smile on her wrinkled face. “Can I get you guys something to drink?” She asked. I frowned. “Bottled water.” That seemed safe enough. Trace snorted. “What?” I glared at him. “Nothing,” he waved his hand in dismissal. “I’ll have the same.” “Sure thing,” the waitress smiled. “And menus are right there,” she pointed to the other end of the table, “look things over and I’ll be back with your drinks.” I picked up two menus and handed one to Trace. When the waitress came back with our water, I ordered a B.L.T. That seemed safe enough. Trace

ordered a cheeseburger. If he got mad cow, well … I took a sip of water and said, “If I die from this, I hope you miss me.” He chuckled. “You’re not going to die from the food or the water,” he eyed the bottle in my hand. “I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised by how good it is. Truckers wouldn’t stop here if the food sucked,” he reasoned. I hoped he was right, because I was hungry. It didn’t take us long to get our food and it actually looked pretty yummy … but I still had to taste it. Trace took a bite of his burger, which he’d covered in ketchup, and was very dramatic about how good it tasted. “Mmm, mmm,” he hummed, “delicious.” I took a deep breath and picked up half of my sandwich. I took a small hesitant bite. “This is actually really good,” I admitted. “See?” He smirked. “You got all worked up for no reason.” “Well,” I looked pointedly at the dirty floors and then the table, “I think had reason to.” “You worry too much.” “Someone has to,” I replied. “Are you implying that I don’t?” He took a bite of a French fry, his face suddenly serious. There was no playfulness in his eyes or tone of voice. “Because I can assure you, I do worry. A lot. About you. About Gramps. About my idiot brother. I worry if I’m good enough for you,” he leaned towards me, staring into my eyes. “I worry that I’m not a good son or grandson. I worry that I’m not the right person to take over my family’s business. I worry about disappointing them if I tell them I don’t want to take it over.” “Whoa,” I whispered. I hadn’t expected him to … open up so much. Trace was a closed off guy. He didn’t talk about his feelings with me. I was usually able to pick up on what he was thinking or feeling because I’d known him so long. But I hadn’t known he carried all of that around with him. I placed my hand on top of his. “Trace,” I whispered, “you don’t need to worry about any of that. I love you, unconditionally, and so does your family. We could never be disappointed by the decisions you make.” He entwined our fingers together and stared at our joined hands for a moment. “That doesn’t stop me from wondering.” “Do you really not want to take over your family business?” I asked hesitantly. “No,” he answered immediately, “I don’t. I hate it. Bossing other people around is not how I want to make a living.” “Then tell them.” “I can’t,” he murmured. “I won’t disappoint them like that.” “So, what? You’ll be miserable for the rest of your life?” I questioned him, trying to meet his gaze but he refused to look at me. “Sounds about right,” he muttered. “Trace,” I said his name sternly, “that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” “Yeah, well,” he pulled roughly at his hair, his burger long forgotten, “it’s what I have to do.” “No, it’s not,” I countered. “We’re in control of our own destinies, Trace. If you don’t want to run the company, don’t do it. Simple as that.” “And do what? Sell it? Put a stranger in charge? Gramps is dying, this is my responsibility now.” “Gosh, you’re so stubborn,” I groaned. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re being ridiculous!” “I’m not—” “If the situation was reversed, you’d tell me I was being dumb,” I interrupted. He clenched his jaw, having no comeback for that since he knew it was true. After a few minutes, he let out a breath. “I have a lot to think about,” he mumbled, unable to meet my gaze. “You do,” I replied, squeezing his hand, which I’d never released, “and I hope you make the right decision for you.”

The fire crackled and sparks flew through the air. I sat in-between Trace’s legs with my head lying against his chest. “This is nice,” I murmured, “I’m glad we decided to stay for this.” “Me too,” he whispered, his lips brushing over the scar my hair kept hidden. “There’s no lakes in Winchester to do something like this … but it’s not like that stops people from having bonfire’s. This is just … nicer.” “Mhmm,” I agreed as his lips passed over my scar again. “Why do you do that?” The words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them. “Do what?” He asked, his chest rumbling against me. “Touch my scar …” I paused. “Does it … bother you?” I tilted my face up to see his reaction. “Is that what you think?” His brows furrowed together and he seemed shocked that I would come to that conclusion. I frowned. “It bothers me,” I reached up, running my fingers along the bumpy scar on the back of my head, “so it’s understandable that it would bother you.” “Absolutely not,” he shook his head forcefully. “You wanna know why I touch it? Why I kiss it?” He asked, his eyes dark with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. I nodded. “Because,” he said forcefully, “it reminds me of what I almost lost and how precious life is.” That hadn’t been the answer I’d been expecting … I don’t even know what I thought he’d say, but it hadn’t been that. Continuing, he ran a finger lightly over the scar, making me shiver. “I watched you bleed out from here … and I knew then exactly what it means to be helpless.” “Trace,” I breathed, reaching up to cup his cheek, but he caught my hand and kissed the palm. “When I watched my dad get hit by that truck … there’s was nothing I could do. With you, I could do something, but I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing and that scared me more than anything.” “I’m here,” I whispered into the night. “You did everything right.” “It’s been two years,” he rested his chin on top of my head, “two whole fucking years, and I still have nightmares about walking in on him beating the crap out of you.” I let out a shaky breath. “I still have nightmares,” I admitted. “But I didn’t know you had them.” “I know you have them,” he stated, which surprised me. He ran his fingers down my neck, causing me to shiver. “You do?” I had thought I’d done a pretty good job of hiding my continual nightmares from him. Early on, after it happened, it had been impossible to keep them from him. But as time passed, I thought I had been sneaky enough that he didn’t know. I should of known though, that Trace being Trace, he knew everything.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Sometimes, while you’re sleeping … you whimper and break out in a sweat and I know you’re dreaming about what he did to you. When you have those nightmares, no matter what I do, I can’t get you to wake up.” I frowned, staring at the bonfire. “Why do you think that is?” It had been a few weeks since I’d had the last nightmare, but they were always the same. Aaron was above me, his foot kicking into my side and his fists battering my face. Trace never came to save me in my nightmares and I couldn’t wake up until Aaron had delivered the fatal blow. “I don’t know,” I felt him shrug, “I guess you’re in such a deep sleep that you can’t wake up.” “We’re one messed up pair,” I mumbled. He chuckled, playing with a piece of my hair. “We’re not messed up. We’re perfect for each other, Olivia. Absolutely perfect.” “And why is that?” I asked, tilting my head back to smile up at him. He kissed the end of my nose. “Because there’s perfection in everything.” “I thought you told me perfection doesn’t exist,” I flattened the collar of his shirt as I remembered a conversation we’d had several years ago when we were crossing things off of my list. “It doesn’t … not in the way people believe.” “What do you mean?” I gazed at him quizzically. He took a deep breath, gazing at the fire for a moment, before looking down at me. “There’s beauty in everything, Olivia. So why can’t there be perfection too?” His tongue flicked out, moistening his lips. “People spend too much time dwelling on the bad in a situation … when if they dug a little deeper they could find something good in it.” “Does that mean you found something good in what happened to your dad? To me?” I asked. I wasn’t asking the question to be mean, I was curious. His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed but eventually he answered. “It took me a while, but yes.” “And what was it you found?” He tightened his arms around me. “If my dad hadn’t—died,” he choked, “I would’ve probably been at some party or doing something stupid, and I wouldn’t have been there to help you with your tire. Hell, I wouldn’t have even been a mechanic.” He brushed his nose against my hair. “I miss my dad every single day, but I know that if he hadn’t died I wouldn’t have you.” I was surprised that he was being so open with me. Trace wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, I knew that and I respected it, but it was nice to hear how much he cared. But I hated that he felt he had to lose his dad in order to gain me. “And what good did you find in what Aaron did to me?” “This is going to sound so cheesy,” a smile played on his lips as he looked to our right where there was a forest and Marcus’ kids were playing hide and seek. “I promise not to mock you for your cheesiness,” I rested my head against his chest, looking up at the stars. “Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. “Tell me.” “I knew I was in love with you before that day, I was just a pussy and wouldn’t tell you,” he chuckled. “But what Aaron did to you, made me fall even more in love with you, because after that I knew we could get through anything … together.” “That is cheesy,” I giggled. “Woman, you said you wouldn’t mock me,” he nibbled on my earlobe. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” My eyes fluttered closed as he trailed light kisses down my neck. “Hey, lovebirds!” Marcus called over to us, waving his hands. “Come get something to eat!” I scooted out from between Trace’s legs and stood, dusting the grass and dirt off my legs. I shivered as a breeze gusted around us. Being on the water, the night’s here were cool. It was nicer than the heart attack inducing humidity I had grown used to in Virginia, but I hadn’t packed for cooler weather. Which was dumb, since we were heading all the way up to Maine. “Here,” Trace shrugged out of the plaid shirt he was wearing and draped it across my shoulders. I’d ditched the shirt I’d borrowed from him earlier and left it in the car. “Thanks,” I smiled as I pushed my arms through the large sleeves. “Can’t have you getting sick,” he kissed my forehead, placing a hand on my waist and guiding me towards Marcus. Apparently Marcus had a bonfire once a week, where he grilled and hung out with his friends and family. He was a nice guy and his wife, Rebecca, seemed sweet but I’d only been introduced to her

briefly. She was pretty with short light blonde hair and kind blue eyes. She almost seemed too calm to handle Marcus’ boisterous personality. Their two kids, Sarah and Jamie, were adorable and reminded me of their dad. Both were currently trying to climb the trees to see who could make it the highest. “Sarah! Jamie! Get down from there!” Rebecca scolded, looking like she might pass out if they climbed any higher. “Becks, they’re kids. Let them play,” Marcus waved his hand in dismissal, flipping a burger on his portable grill. “Tell me that when we end up spending the night in the emergency room,” she glared at her husband. “Tell them to get down. They’ll listen to you.” “Kids!” Marcus yelled. He didn’t have to say anything else. They immediately started climbing down. “Sorry about that,” Marcus shrugged, smiling at us. “The burgers will be ready in a minute. Buns are over there and Rebecca made some side dishes,” he nodded to the open trunk of the SUV parked behind him. I grabbed a plate and a hamburger bun, squirting a dollop of mayonnaise on it and adding lettuce and tomato. Rebecca had made macaroni salad and coleslaw. I scooped a spoonful of each onto my plate. Trace took enough to feed at least two other people. I looked his athletic body up and down. Seriously, where did he put all that food? “What?” He glanced over at me. A slow smile—the panty dropping one—lit his face. “Are you checking me out?” I snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself.” “You are,” he smirked, licking some mayonnaise off his finger. “Not for the reason you think,” I shook my head. “You mean, you’re not undressing me with your eyes? Damn.” “I heard that,” Marcus interrupted before I had a chance to retort. “Keep it clean,” he eyed Trace sternly. “My kids are here and they still think the opposite sex has cooties. I’d like to keep it that way until I’m dead.” “Sorry,” Trace hung his head to hide his laughter. “Won’t happen again.” “You bet it won’t,” Marcus laughed. “I am offering you a place to stay tonight that doesn’t look like it belongs in a horror movie.” When we first arrived at the bonfire and accepted Marcus’ invitation for a place to stay, we’d told him about the first place we’d stopped at in Philadelphia. He’d gotten quite a laugh from that. I’m happy we didn’t end up staying there. I shuddered at the thought. The place probably had roaches crawling out of the drains. “Yeah, thanks for that,” Trace chuckled. Marcus turned back to the grill, removing the burgers and stacking them on a plate. He put it in the trunk with the rest of the food. I grabbed a plastic fork and used it to lift one of the burgers onto my plate. “I can’t believe you had a cheeseburger for lunch, and now you’re having one for dinner,” I shook my head. “I need protein,” he smirked. Sobering, he added, “I didn’t really eat my lunch anyway.” That was true. After the conversation about taking over his family’s business, neither of us had much of an appetite. I hated that Trace felt … obligated to take over the business. His family—they were good people—and I knew they’d respect his decision if he chose to carry on as he was. We found a spot close to the edge of the lake and sat side by side. With the darkness the lake appeared to go on forever. The only disruption in the surface was the reflection of the crescent moon. It was beautiful. Peaceful even. Marcus had set up small outdoor lanterns and spread them around so that we weren’t completely in the dark. I wasn’t used to eating dinner this late—at home Trace and I usually ate dinner around four or five, not nine-thirty—but it was nice to do something different. Someone sat down beside me and I turned to see one of the guys from the bungee jumping group. I couldn’t remember his name though. “Hey,” he smiled at me and then Trace. “What did you think of your jump?” “It was pretty awesome,” Trace grinned. “That adrenaline rush I got when we fell—there’s nothing else like it.” “It’s addicting,” the guy agreed. “What about you?” He nodded at me.

“I’m glad I did it. It was pretty spectacular.” “Marcus said you guys were just passing through?” He questioned. “Road trip,” Trace replied. “I’ve always wanted to go on a road trip,” the guy said, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Never had the time though.” He stared out at the water for a moment and then jumped up. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone.” And with that, he sauntered off. “That was … weird,” I mumbled. Trace chuckled. “He thought you were hot and wanted to talk to you. You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type.” “Oh please,” I rolled my eyes. “He did not think I was hot.” “Trust me, he did. I’m a guy, I know these things,” he set his empty plate to the side. “He was trying not to look at your breasts. At least he didn’t look at your ass, ‘cause that’s all mine.” “You are …” I shook my head, looking out at the lake. There were no words to describe Trace. He was one of a kind and I wouldn’t have him any other way. “I’m what?” He prodded. “Sexy? Amazing? A great singer? Because I already know all of that,” he turned on his side, looking up at me. “You’re just … you,” I shrugged, wrapping my arms around my legs. “And there’s no one else I’d rather be,” he winked. Sarah, Marcus’ six year old daughter, walked up behind Trace and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hi,” she waved at him. “Hello, Princess Sarah,” Trace grinned crookedly as he rolled over to face her. “What can I do for you?” “Will you dance with me?” She asked sweetly, holding out a small hand for Trace to take. Marcus had turned on his iPod and hooked it up to a docking station. Music pumped around us and I found my head bobbing along as I smiled at the scene playing out before me. “Sure, sweetie,” he smiled at her and I swear she blushed. Apparently, even small children weren’t immune to Trace’s charms. He turned to me and whispered, “Don’t be jealous,” before hopping up and taking Sarah’s small hand. She led him away and I heard Trace tell her she was a bit too short for him. He swept her up into his arms, holding her close. Her giggle filled the air. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they swayed to the music. My heart swelled. In my mind, Trace wasn’t holding Sarah. Instead he was holding our daughter. I had always known Trace would make an amazing father, but I’d never seen him around kids before. He was a natural. I watched them closely, choked up on an emotion I couldn’t begin to describe. If it was possible, I fell a little bit more in love with him in that moment. Jamie appeared in front of me, blocking my view of Trace and Sarah. He smiled, displaying a gap in his mouth from missing teeth. “Come on,” he grabbed my hand, trying to pull me up, “they’re dancing. We should too.” I laughed, taking his hand. Jamie was eight but he was almost my height. That’s what I got for being short. “You’re pretty,” he said to me. I laughed. “Thank you, Jamie. You’re quite handsome yourself.” He beamed at that. “Dad says you’re staying the night at our house. You can sleep in my bed. I promise I don’t snore like my dad.” I laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think that will be possible.” “Why not?” He frowned, his nose crinkling. “I think my fiancé might not like that very much,” I whispered, like I was letting him in on a secret. Jamie glanced to his right, where Trace and Sarah were currently spinning in circles, and looked Trace up and down as if sizing him up. After a moment, he looked back at me. “I can take him,” he shrugged nonchalantly. I threw my head back in laughter. “I’m sure you could,” I assured him, before I hurt the little boy’s feelings with my outburst. “I’m very strong,” he boasted. “My dad says I’m going to be a fighter one day. He doesn’t like it when I fight with my sister though.” “Fighting with sisters isn’t very nice,” I told him.

“I know,” he shrugged, “but she’s always taking my stuff. Doesn’t she know my toys are for boys and hers are for girls?” He looked at me seriously, waiting for an answer. I smiled down at the eight-year-old boy. “Sometimes, siblings take each other’s stuff just to make the other one mad.” Jamie glared at his little sister in Trace’s arms. “Well, that’s not very nice. I don’t touch her Barbie’s. Those things are gross.” “I’m sure you’re not always nice to your sister.” “Well,” he shrugged, frowning, “there was that one time I colored on her dolls. But she stole my Pokémon cards. So it was only fair,” he reasoned. Ah, sibling logic. I hadn’t had to deal with that growing up, but I’d learned a few things being around Trace and Trent, as well as Avery and her brothers. Even as adults they were still picking on each other. I mean, Trace was twenty-four and Trent was nineteen, and those two were always arguing over something goofy and irrelevant. “Do you have a brother or sister?” Jamie asked me. “Not yet,” I shook my head. “But I will soon.” “How?” He tilted his head. “You’re old.” I frowned. I would’ve been better off to have told him no. Now, I was stuck explaining my complicated life to an eight year old. “It’s a long story,” I finally said, hoping that sufficed. “I like stories,” he shrugged his small shoulders. “You can tell me. I’m a good listener, promise.” “I’m sure you are,” I smiled at him. “But it’s not something I like to talk about.” “Oh,” he frowned. “That’s okay.” The music cut off and we stopped dancing. “Dad,” Jamie groaned. “We were dancing.” “Sorry, bud,” Marcus smiled at his son, “but it’s way past your bedtime. We need to get home.” “Fun sucker,” Jamie grumbled, heading towards his dad with a lowered head. “What did you say?” Marcus’ voice was stern but he was fighting a smile. “Nothing, dad,” Jamie mumbled as he climbed into the SUV. I turned to find Trace still holding Sarah, carefully rocking her in his arms. She was holding on tightly to his neck and her eyes were closed as she breathed deeply. I think my heart stopped beating for a moment before kicking into overdrive. He carried her to the car and strapped her in her booster seat. “We’ll follow you,” Trace said to Marcus. Marcus didn’t live that far from the lake, we had only driven about five minutes when we pulled into the driveway of a modest sized home. Sarah had woken up on the ride home and when she got out of the car, she came running to Trace. He immediately bent down so that he was on her eyelevel. “What is it princess?” He asked. “Will you read me a story? Mommy normally reads to me, but I want you to,” she twisted her shirt between her small fingers, looking bashfully at the ground as she waited for his reply. “Sure,” Trace smiled, “as long as that’s okay with your mommy and daddy.” “Thank you!” She hugged him tightly. Marcus held the front door open and Sarah went running inside. Trace grabbed our bags, refusing to let me carry mine. “The guestroom’s this way,” Rebecca smiled pleasantly, leading us past a homey family room and nice kitchen. Kids toys were scattered about. “I’m sorry for the mess,” she apologized. “I can never get them to put their toys away, and the minute I clean them up they drag another fifty out.” She stopped in front of a door at the back of the house and opened it. “It’s not much,” she smiled. “But it’s clean and there’s an attached bathroom.” “Thank you so much for opening your home to us. Most people wouldn’t do that,” I hugged her. “It’s not a problem, honestly.” Looking at Trace, she added, “You don’t need to read Sarah a story. I know she can be pushy.” “I want to,” Trace said quickly. “Are you sure?” Rebecca asked hesitantly. “Positive,” Trace nodded. “Well … okay then,” she smiled, heading back towards the kitchen. “I’ll get her ready for bed. There’s

shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in the shower. Feel free to use it.” I stepped into the bedroom and Trace closed the door. The carpet was plush under my feet and the room smelled of fresh linen, courtesy of one of those plug-in outlet things. I couldn’t believe we’d lucked out in meeting Marcus … even if I did end up jumping off a bridge in the process. “You can shower first,” I told him, sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress was nice and soft, nothing like the rock we’d slept on last night. “Or,” he bent down and pressed his forehead against mine, “we could shower together.” “Nice try, but we’re in someone else’s house.” “I’ll be a good boy, I promise,” he coaxed. “Mhmm, I’ll believe that when … well, never,” I smiled. “Thanks for believing in me,” he released my cheeks and backed towards the bathroom. “I’m glad you have so much faith in me.” I tossed one of the pillows from the bed at him. “Oooh, you want a pillow fight?” He waggled his brows. “No, I’d like for you to shower so that I can. I smell gross,” I frowned. He wrinkled his nose playfully. “Is it you that I’ve been smelling?” “Stop it,” I rolled my eyes, falling back on the bed. He chuckled as he gathered something to change into. “It’s a legitimate question,” he started for the bathroom. “Don’t act like you don’t smell either,” I grumbled. “That’s my natural manly musk. Don’t diss it,” he chortled, closing the door. A moment later the shower started up. I didn’t have anything to do so I figured I should be a nice daughter and call my mom so I could give her an update on our progress. Before we left, she’d told me to call her every day. So far, I was sucking at that. “Liv?” She answered on the second ring. “Hey mom,” I replied, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. “You didn’t call me yesterday. I was worried, but I thought maybe I shouldn’t call you.” “Yeah, I’m sorry about that, mom. I suck. I was so tired that I forgot,” I stifled a yawn. “You sound like you’re tired now,” she laughed. “I am.” “What have you been up to?” She asked. “Trace made me jump off a bridge,” I said nonchalantly. “He what?!” She screamed so I had to hold the phone away from ear. “We went bungee jumping. It was actually pretty fun,” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “Geez, way to give your mom a heart attack, Liv.” “Sorry. I didn’t think about the way that would sound,” I apologized. I didn’t need to scare my poor mother into going into labor early. “So, besides bungee jumping, what else did you do?” Her tone was clipped and I knew she was still fretting over the bungee jumping. I shouldn’t have told her. Lesson learned. “We went to the Heinz museum yesterday, and this morning we saw the Liberty Bell and toured Independence Hall.” “Where are you now?” “New York,” I adjusted one of the pillows behind my back. “At least you’re making progress,” she commented. “I better get to bed.” “Of course,” I looked at the time, feeling bad that I’d called her after ten. “Love you, mom.” “I love you too, Liv.” I had just put my phone away when the bathroom door opened and steam billowed out. Trace stood in a pair of low hanging pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. “Gotta keep it decent for the kiddos,” he winked, heading for the door. He turned back to me and swiped his thumb across my lip. “You had a little drool there. I didn’t know my plaid pajama pants would turn you on so much or I would’ve whipped these bad boys out a long time ago.” I blushed at his words. Curse you, traitorous cheeks! “Now that you’re sufficiently flustered, I have a story to read,” he opened the door.

“I hate you,” I spat playfully before the door closed. “Sure you do,” he called. I grabbed a clean pair of pajamas and stepped into the bathroom. It was nothing like the bathroom we’d had to use at the motel yesterday. It was fairly large to be attached to a guestroom and kept tidy and clean. I turned the water on and stripped out of my clothes, more than happy to finally wash the lake scum off of me. I pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair and let it fall down my back. I stuck my hand under the spray to test the temperature and when I found that it was perfect, I stepped inside. An embarrassing gasp of pleasure escaped my lips. I had taken for granted just how great a nice shower was. I lathered my hair with the shampoo and scrubbed my body with the blueberry scented body wash. Goodbye, lake scum! I rinsed the shampoo from my hair and then slathered it with conditioner. If I didn’t use the stuff, my hair knotted into a curly ball that was impossible to tame. When I got out of the shower and into clean pajamas I felt like a whole new person. I wiped the condensation from the mirror and gasped at the nasty bruise around my eye. It hadn’t been pretty this morning, but it was even worse now. I hadn’t brought my makeup into the bathroom because I’d forgotten about the bruise. But I knew I had to hide it. Not just for Trace’s sake, but because if Rebecca and Marcus saw it I knew they’d assume that Trace had hit me. Which was so not the case. I locked the bathroom door, just in case Trace came back, and went to work hiding the bruise. The skin around my eye was extremely tender and I found myself wincing when I applied too much pressure. Only I could fall on the floor and get a black eye from it. That took major skill. I eyed my reflection carefully, inspecting my face to make sure none of the bruise showed. When I saw that it was completely covered up, I put the foundation bottle back in my make-up bag and zipped it up. I knew it was only a matter of time until Trace learned about the bruise, but I figured the longer I could keep it hidden, the better. I ventured out of the bedroom, hoping to get a glass of water before I went to bed. I stopped in the hallway outside a door when I heard Trace singing. I pushed the door open slightly with the tips of my fingers. I bit my lip to stifle my soft sigh. Sarah was curled on top of Trace’s chest as he ran his fingers through her soft dark hair. I didn’t know what song he was singing, it wasn’t a lullaby, but it was a slow sweet song. A book lay forgotten to the side. He cracked his eyes open and spotted me in the doorway. He brought a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion. I stood there for a moment longer, watching him sing to the sleeping girl. I didn’t want to rifle through Marcus and Rebecca’s things so I was lucky enough to find them in the family room watching TV. “Hey,” I said quietly and Marcus turned at the sound of my voice. “Do you mind if I grab a bottle of water or something.” “Help yourself,” Rebecca smiled pleasantly, “you’re our guest.” “Thank you,” I smiled, backing into the kitchen. I couldn’t believe that Marcus and Rebecca were being so kind to us. I mean, they didn’t know us. I guess they thought we seemed trustworthy. I know Trace had that effect on me. It was the only reason I ended up blabbing to him about my Live List. He was one of those people that upon meeting them, you knew you could trust them with anything and they’d never judge you. I grabbed two water bottles and padded back to the guestroom. After today’s adventures, I was exhausted and the bed was calling my name. Trace had stopped singing and I stuck my head inside Sarah’s room to find him asleep. Her small body was curled against his. I hurried to bedroom and came back with my phone, snapping a picture. Seeing Trace interact with Sarah … it was too adorable for words. I climbed into the bed and fell asleep with a smile on my face. For the first time in a few weeks, I was genuinely happy.

“You made all of this?” I gasped as I stepped into the kitchen and saw the breakfast Rebecca had prepared. “I don’t normally do all this,” she pointed to all the food prepared. “But I figured you could both benefit from a good home-cooked meal since you’ve been traveling,” she explained. “Rebecca, you didn’t need to do all of this,” I shook my head. I’m pretty sure she’d made a bit of every breakfast food known to man. “Trace and I were just going to hit the road and get something to eat while we drove. We didn’t want you to go to all this trouble.” “It wasn’t any trouble at all. I love to cook, but my kids only ever want to eat Pop-Tarts so I don’t get the chance very often,” she said as she flitted around the kitchen, putting food on plates. “Grab one, help yourself,” she smiled. “Thank you for doing this,” I smiled kindly as I took a plate and glass of orange juice she’d already poured. “No need to thank me.” I pulled out a seat at the kitchen table and sat down. Trace came into the room with Sarah clinging to his back like a monkey, her giggle filling the air. He’d never come to bed last night and when I woke up, I found him in the same spot he’d been when I went to bed. Sarah didn’t appear to have moved either. It was one of the cutest things I’d ever seen. “What do you want to eat?” Trace asked her. She tightened her arms around his neck. “I want that plate,” she pointed to one that had scrambled eggs with cheese on it. “You got it, princess,” he grabbed that plate and one for himself, carrying them over to the table. He went back for orange juice and finally sat down. Sarah had released his neck, but instead of sitting in her own seat, she sat on his lap. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture of the two of them. A sleepy-eyed Jamie strolled into the kitchen. He frowned at the food. “Mom, I don’t want—” “Here’s a Pop-Tart,” she handed him a pack before he could finish speaking. He took it from her and scurried over to sit beside me. “Manners, James,” Rebecca scolded. “What do you say when someone gives you something?” “Thanks, mom,” he mumbled, ripping open the packet. “Mmm, something smells good,” Marcus rubbed his stomach as he stepped into the kitchen. He kissed Rebecca on top of the head and her eyes closed as a small smile graced her face. “Thanks, Becks,” he took a plate from her. They joined us at the table and Rebecca shook her head when she spotted Sarah in Trace’s lap. “You’d never believe that she’s normally wary of strangers,” Rebecca told me. To Trace, she said, “You’re a natural.”

Trace smiled at Sarah. “I like kids and they like me.” I snorted. “That’s because you act like a kid yourself.” “Exactly,” his eyes sparkled. “There’s nothing wrong with never growing up.” “Don’t go getting any ideas,” Rebecca warned her son when he brightened at Trace’s words. Jamie frowned, his small shoulders slumping. Being a kid though, he quickly got over it. Looking at me, he asked, “Are you going to live with us now?” I tried to hide my smile. “No, Jamie. We’re leaving today,” I explained. “Oh,” his frown deepened. “I don’t want you to leave.” “Me neither,” Sarah chimed in, hugging her arms around Trace’s neck. “Stay! Stay!” “Sorry, princess, but we can’t,” Trace tucked her small head under his chin. “No,” she began to cry. “Don’t leave.” Trace rubbed her back soothingly, looking at me with panic stricken eyes. I was more clueless than he was. I’d rarely been around small children growing up and had no idea what to do with the tear-fest. “Please, stay,” Sarah pleaded. “You can live in my room. My dolls won’t care.” Trace chuckled, and pried her arms from his neck so he could look into her wide brown eyes. “I’m sorry, princess. But I have to go home to my family.” “But,” her lower lip trembled as she fought more tears, “we can be your family.” “I know you could,” he comforted her, “but my mom and brother would miss me. You don’t want that, right?” “No,” she shook her head, dark brown ringlets brushing against her shoulders. She looked at her own parents, as if thinking about how they’d miss her. “Don’t forget about me,” she placed her head against his chest. “Never, princess,” he kissed the top of her head. “That would be impossible.”

I never knew it could be so hard to say goodbye to people you’d just met. But it was. I was sad to leave Marcus and his family. “Thank you so much for everything,” I hugged Marcus and Rebecca. “If you’re ever in Northern Virginia, call us.” “We will,” Marcus assured me. “Bye, Jamie,” I bent slightly to hug the boy. “Are you going to visit us again?” Jamie asked. I shrugged. “You never know.” “I hope you do.” “I hope so too,” I smiled, meaning it. “Bye, Sarah,” I said to the girl, but she was too busy sobbing into Trace’s shoulder to hear me. I swear I saw tears in Trace’s eyes too. Finally, Marcus pried Sarah from Trace’s arms so we could get in the car. Sarah clung to her dad as she sobbed. Trace bowed his head and ducked into the car. “Bye guys,” I said one last time. Trace didn’t waste any time in pulling away. I looked over at him. “Are you crying?” I gasped. “No,” he turned his face away from me. “Liar.” “There’s something in my eye,” he defended. I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile. “That’s the oldest excuse in the book. It’s okay to cry, you know.” “I—” He shrugged, floundering for words. “I feel bad. I didn’t think she’d be that upset by us leaving.” “She likes you, of course she’s upset. She’s only six,” I reasoned. “Yeah,” he gripped the steering wheel, “but I don’t want to be responsible for breaking a six year old girl’s heart.” I laughed. “It’s your own fault. You’re too charming for your own good. I’m pretty sure everyone falls in love with you on sight.”

“It’s the scruff,” he rubbed his jaw. “No one can resist the power of my facial hair.” “It is pretty amazing,” I reached across and rubbed his cheek. “So,” his brows furrowed as he became serious, “where do you want to go next? I’ve picked the last three places, so I think you deserve a turn.” “Hmm,” I pondered. “I really want to see the Statue of Liberty.” He grinned. “Done.”

A few hours later we parked in New Jersey and rode the subway into New York City. I didn’t like the subway. At all. There were some strange people on there, but Trace had insisted that we ride it for, in his words, “experience’s sake.” Whatever. That was one experience I could’ve done without. There was one man that wasn’t wearing any pants. When we finally got off the subway, I dug Germ-X out of my purse and drenched my hands in its gooeyness. Trace watched me with a raised brow, fighting a smile. “Here, take some,” I shoved the bottle in his hands. “Nah, I’m good,” he leaned casually against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles. “If you ever want me to touch your hands again, you’ll use it,” I warned him. “Fine,” he took the bottle from me, squirting a small amount in the palm of his hand. “More than that!” “Woman,” he groaned, adding some more. “Does this suffice?” “That’s better,” I eyed the amount in his hand. After I was sure that every germ on our hands had been killed, I followed him up the stairs, careful not to touch the railing, and outside. I dug sunglasses out of my bag and put them on. “Which way do we go?” I asked. “Give me a second,” he muttered, looking for a map. When he found one, he studied it for a moment before saying, “This way.” I had to jog to keep up with his long-legged stride. “Slow down,” I pleaded. “I’m short.” “Sorry,” he chuckled. “Thanks,” I croaked when he slowed. “My throat hurts from all the singing,” I groaned. The whole drive here, we’d been singing along, non-stop, to Trace’s road trip playlist. “That’s because you don’t sing enough. You should change that. Your voice is beautiful,” he mused. “You’re only saying that to be nice,” I rolled my eyes. He stopped, grabbing my arm to halt me. “Olivia, I would never lie to you. It’s not a part of my personality. If I thought you sounded like a dying cow, I’d tell you. I’m honest like that.” “That’s so comforting,” I snorted. “It should be,” his lips spread into a smile. “Now come on,” he took my hand, “we have to hurry so we don’t miss the ferry.” “Ferry?” I squeaked. “You mean we have to get on a boat thing?” “Um, yeah,” he looked at me peculiarly. “Is that a problem?” I gulped. “I—um—get really sea sick.” He chuckled. “You mean to tell me, that you’re not afraid of heights, but a boat is what gets your stomach in knots. Interesting.” “It’s a legitimate illness!” I complained. “One time, we went on a fishing trip when I was younger, and I spent the whole time throwing up over the side of the boat.” “Olivia,” he said my name calmly, “it’s the Statue of Liberty. It needs to be appreciated up close. Not from far away.” I shook my head rapidly back and forth. “No, no. I can’t do it.” He eyed me for a moment. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder caveman style.” “Don’t even think about it,” I warned him, walking away. “You’re not getting me on that boat—ferry thing.” “How did you think we got to the statue if you didn’t know we had to take the ferry?” He asked, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I never thought about it. But I’m not getting on the ferry.” I was already nauseous at the thought. I spotted a bench and snagged a seat, breathing deeply in and out, hoping to settle my rolling stomach. “Olivia?” Trace questioned, squatting in front of me, his hands on my knees. “Are you okay?” “Give me a minute,” I warned him, taking another deep breath. Anyone that had never experienced motion sickness of any sort would think I was crazy, but just the thought of stepping on a ferry had me feeling sick. I couldn’t do it. I slowly brought my head up to meet his worried gaze. “Are you okay?” He asked, smoothing his thumbs over my cheeks. “As long as I don’t get on the ferry.” “No ferry,” he grinned. “I would never make you do anything you absolutely didn’t want to do.” “You made me jump off a bridge!” I exclaimed. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “But that’s because I knew, in the end, that you’d love it. It’s my job to push you out of your comfort zone.” “I’m not getting on that ferry. It has nothing to do with a comfort zone.” “Woman, did you hear what I said? I would never force you to do anything. Not that I’d have to,” he grinned crookedly. “You’re so full of yourself.” I playfully pushed his shoulder. “I have a lot to be proud of,” he waggled his eyebrows as he took my hands and hauled me up. “Come on,” he slung an arm across my shoulders, “we have a statue to see.” I let him lead me to a better viewing point. The statue was quite spectacular, and I would’ve loved to see it even closer, but I wasn’t going near the ferry. “I’m sorry,” I said after we’d been standing there for a few minutes. “What for?” He looked at me questioningly. “I know you would’ve liked to have gone,” I pointed to the ferry pulling away. “You could’ve gone by yourself.” “But I didn’t want to,” he smoothed his hands up and down my arms. “I’m perfectly fine standing right here with you. This,” he motioned around us, “makes me happy.” I swallowed thickly. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m holding you back from things. Without—” He silenced me with his lips. “Why do you do that?” I gasped breathlessly when he pulled away. “Do what? Kiss you senseless?” He smirked, pleased with himself. “Yes, that,” I snapped. “Sometimes, you need to shut up and kissing you is the most pleasing way to do it.” “You have one strange thought process,” I commented, fighting a smile. “You say strange, I say spectacular. Any excuse to kiss you is a good one,” he chuckled. “But what I was going to say to you is, in no way do you ever hold me back. How could you ever think that? Look at all the crazy shit we’ve done.” I laughed, feeling lighter. “I guess you’re right.” “I’m always right. I’m a Wentworth after all,” he winked. We gazed out at the water and statue for a little while longer before he said, “Ready to go?” I nodded. “Yeah.” Since I wasn’t getting on the ferry, there was no point in hanging around here any longer. At least I’d gotten to see it. “Wanna head into Manhattan?” He questioned. I gazed up at the New York City skyline. “Would you think I was weird if I said no?” He laughed, shaking his head. “I won’t think you’re weird.” “Then no, I’m not interested. Big cities aren’t my thing,” I shrugged. “God, you’re perfect,” he grabbed me, kissing the top of my head. “I’m far from it, but I’m glad you think so,” I smiled as we started back to the subway station. I was already dreading what we might encounter on there. By the time we got back in the car, my stomach had completely settled, and I was ready to do something else. Seeing monuments and museums was interesting, but it was time for something a little more … exciting … like bungee jumping. Trace plugged his phone in and—wait … was that? No way.

Trace looked at me with wide eyes as I began to laugh hysterically. I clutched my stomach, struggling to breathe, as tears coursed down my face from laughing so hard. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you have the Spice Girls on there.” “I didn’t put it on there, I swear—” “This is too funny,” I wiped my face free of tears. “‘I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what you want, what you really, really, want. I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, really, really, really, wanna zigazig ah,’” I sang along to the song. Trace shook his head and then joined in. “‘If you wanna be my lover,’” he pointed at me as he sang along, ‘“you gotta get with my friends. Gotta get with my friends. Make it last forever, friendship never ends. If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give. Taking is too easy, but that’s the way it is.’” Then we started singing together. It was so hard for me not to burst into laughter. “‘Slam your body down and wind it all around. Slam your body down and wind it all around. Uh, uh, uh, uh. Slam your body down and wind it all around. Slam your body down and zigazig, ah … If you wanna be my lover.’” When the song ended, he turned the volume down. “The Spice Girls,” I giggled, shaking my head back and forth. “What else do you have on there?” I eyed his iPhone. “Once upon a time I had a big crush on Ginger Spice. Don’t judge me, woman,” he joked, changing the playlist. “And there might be one Britney Spears song on there.” I eyed him. “Okay, maybe two. But don’t tell me you never had a crush on one of those 90’s boy bands.” “I did,” I smiled. “Which one?” “Backstreet Boys,” I admitted. “And who was your favorite?” He asked, fighting a smile. I squirmed in my seat. “Brian,” I muttered. “‘Everybody, yeah. Rock your body, yeah. Everybody, yeah. Rock your body right. Backstreet’s back, alright.’” “I can’t believe you know that song,” I bit my lip to stifle my laughter. “I think every kid growing up in the 90’s knew that song, not to mention countless other pop songs,” he shrugged. “You couldn’t escape them. Don’t worry, my parent’s still exposed me to the classics,” he smirked. “What’s your favorite song then?” I asked. He bit his lip, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Don’t make me choose. I love all kinds of music so it’s impossible for me to pick one.” “That’s a sucky answer,” I frowned. “But I don’t think I have a favorite song either.” “See?” He grinned, finally backing out of the parking space after our impromptu Spice Girls singalong. “There are too many good ones to pick only one. I don’t even have a favorite artist or band. Picking one over another would be like …” He paused, thinking. “Like picking a favorite child. Impossible and unfair.” “Do you think your taste in music has changed since you were younger? I know mine has,” I kicked my sneakers off, getting comfortable since I had no idea how long it would be until we stopped. “Hell yeah,” he chuckled, changing lanes. “I used to sing Farmer in the Dell all the time. It drove my parents nuts. Then I moved on to the Spice Girls,” he joked. “After that, I listened to a lot of heavy rock music … I call that my angst years. Now I like pretty much every genre of music. If it has a good beat and lyrics I can appreciate then I’m cool with it.” He glanced over at me for a moment, and then said, “I like how different types of music can set a certain mood, or make something even more memorable. You know what I mean?” “Yeah, I do,” I nodded. “For example,” his eyes met mine briefly before darting back to the road, “when I took you to karaoke night, to cross singing off your list, I picked Just a Kiss for a reason. I was too scared to tell you what I was feeling, so I chose that song.” I snorted. “Then you did kiss me, and ran away,” I looked out the window, avoiding the look I knew he was bound to be giving me. “I’m still sorry about that,” he whispered. “It was a pussy move for me to make. I was scared of what I felt for you, Olivia. I had never felt that before.”

“Felt what?” I asked, curiously. “Like I’d be lost without you,” he murmured. “I know that sounds like such a chick thing to say, but it’s true. I knew you were different from the moment I met you. You’re not like other girls, Olivia. You’re just … you … and that’s why I love you. There isn’t one thing in particular that I love about you … it’s everything. You’re beautiful, and smart, and you don’t mind the random shit I say, or my crappy dancing …” “Whoa,” I breathed. “That was … deep.” “Hey,” he put a hand to his chest, his eyes on the road, “I can be a deep guy. Give me some credit, woman.” “Oh please,” I rolled my eyes. “Your ‘deep’ moments are few and far between. I need to soak this in while I can.” “I can be serious,” he frowned. “You were watching Dora the Explorer while eating Trix cereal last week,” I rolled my eyes. “I like the Backpack song,” he grinned. “Of course you do,” I laughed. “Seriously, though,” he reached for my hand, “I meant what I said.” “I know you did,” I smiled, “and in case you were wondering, I feel the same way about you.” I leaned over and kissed his stubbled cheek. His eyes were a dark forest green when he looked down at me briefly. “I love you, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.” Slowly, he brought my left hand up to his lips, kissing the top of it before grazing his lips over my engagement ring. “I can’t wait until you’re Mrs. Wentworth.” “Me either,” I laid my head on his shoulder, a smile on my face, a smile that rarely ever left thanks to him.

Rain beat down on the car and a crack of thunder roared, causing me to jump. I hadn’t seen a storm this bad in a long time. The rain was so heavy that I could barely see out the window. Trace came running back to the car, completely soaked. “They’re full too,” he groaned, leaning his head back as he stared at the car ceiling. “Apparently the storm has caused all the motels to fill up. There’s not another one for at least fifty miles and I’m exhausted. I can’t keep driving.” “I can—” “No,” he pressed a finger over my lips, shushing me. “Only I drive the Camaro.” I glanced at the backseat and then at him. “We can sleep in the car. The backseat is bigger than most.” “I don’t think we have much choice,” he rubbed his eyes, then buckled his seatbelt. “I’ll try to find a safe place to park.” I jumped again as lightning lit the sky. “I don’t like this,” I admitted reluctantly. “I’ll keep you safe,” he chuckled. “How?” “Cover your body with mine,” he smirked, “problem solved.” “I should’ve known,” I forced a smile, because not even Trace’s sense of humor could make me feel better right now. Thunder growled ominously and I prayed we made it through this storm alive. Trace drove at a snail’s pace as the windshield wipers worked overtime to clear the glass. The rain was coming down so fast that we could only see a few feet in front of us. I hoped the wind—that was currently trying to push the car into the wrong lane—would blow the storm passed … and quickly. Trace pulled the car as far off the side of the road as he could manage without crashing into one of those wire fences they used to keep cattle back and turned the flashers on. “This is g-g-good enough,” he shivered, his teeth clacking together. His hair was plastered to his head and water dripped off his chin. His clothes were soaked and if he didn’t change into something dry, he was going to get sick. Unfortunately, our clothes were in the trunk, and there was no way to get to them without getting out of the car … which would lead to the dry clothes getting wet. “There’s enough gas to let the car run,” he muttered, turning up the heat. I guess that counted for something. I unbuckled the seatbelt and climbed into the back. “Are you coming?” I asked him. “Y-yeah,” his body trembled with another shiver. He cupped his hands over his mouth, blowing hot air against them. “I’m cold,” he said unnecessarily. “I know you are, come here,” I patted the backseat.

His wet clothes made a squishing sound against the leather seats as he climbed in the back. “You need to get out of your clothes,” I told him, already reaching for his plaid shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. He grinned crookedly. “You l-l-love any excuse t-t-to get m-m-me out of m-m-my clothes,” his teeth chattered. “Right now, I’m more concerned with getting you warm before you get sick.” “Oooh, are you going t-t-to wear a n-n-nurse’s outfit and feed me by hand?” Despite the fact that he was shivering uncontrollably the man was still making jokes and there was a mischievous glimmer in his green eyes. “Sorry,” I spread my arms wide, “no nurse’s outfit here.” “D-d-darn,” he shivered, letting the plaid shirt drop to the floor. I pulled his white t-shirt over his head and it fell to the floor as well. His jeans were the next to go. When I curled my body around his, he stuck his thumb in the elastic of his boxers letting it snap against his skin. “A-a-are these s-s-staying o-o-on?” I laughed weakly. “Yeah, they are.” “A-a-and h-h-here I thought y-y-you had an u-u-ulterior m-m-motive for g-g-getting me n-n-naked.” “You are … something else,” I muttered, laying atop his chest and wrapping my arms around his neck. Only Trace would make sexual advances while freezing to death. “S-s-so I-I-I’ve b-b-been t-t-told.” I pressed my face against his chest, hoping my body heat would help him get warm. It wasn’t working though. His body was so cold that I was becoming chilled. Another loud clap of thunder had me letting out a squeal. “I-I-It’s o-o-okay,” his large hand spread across my back, rubbing up and down in comfort. I ruffled my fingers through his hair, trying to dry it. “I-I-I’m f-f-fine.” “No, you’re not. Stop trying to be Mr. Tough Guy and let me take care of you.” “O-o-okay, b-b-bossy p-p-pants.” “Stop talking,” I mumbled, moving my hands across his chest, trying to transfer my warmth to him. “M-m-maybe y-y-you s-s-should k-k-kiss me and w-w-warm my l-l-lips,” he tried to smile. “Nice try, Trace. Now seriously, shush.” I took my tank top off and his eyes widened. “Don’t even think about it,” I warned as I balled the shirt up and used it as a makeshift towel to dry his body. I dried his chest and arms first, then scooted down his body to dry his legs. I gasped in surprise when I felt the prominent bulge. “Trace,” I gasped his name in shock. A crooked smile graced his lips for a moment. “I c-c-can’t help it. It has a m-m-mind of it’s own.” I rolled my eyes but I was pleased that his teeth weren’t chattering as much. The car was quickly building in heat, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the heaters blowing full blast or us. After I dried his legs, I somehow ended up straddling his chest. He grabbed my legs, just below my butt, his fingers grazing against the edge of my shorts. “I think I’m warm now,” lust filled green eyes gazed into my own. A shaky breath rolled through my body as he sat up and I slid down until my center was pressed right up against him. “You know,” he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear that had escaped the confines of the braid I’d put it in earlier, “I’ve never had sex in a car before.” “Really?” My voice shook. Funny, how only minutes ago he’d been the one shaking. Now, with a few words he had me shaking like a leaf. “Really,” his lips brushed lightly against mine, causing a soft moan to escape me. “Are you sure we should do this?” I questioned, my eyes fluttering closed as he nipped at my neck. “Do what?” “Have sex in your car,” I gasped as he pressed kisses to the tops of my breasts. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a better idea,” he pulled down the cups of my bra. “I think this is the perfect way to warm me up.” His mouth closed over one of my nipples and I was lost. My fingers tangled in his damp hair. He unclasped my bra and tossed it to the floor of the car. With deft fingers, he unsnapped the button of my shorts and eased the zipper down. They too joined the rapidly growing pile of clothes on the floor.

He reached down for his jeans, grabbing his wallet, and pulling out a condom. “Always prepared,” I joked. “You never know,” he grinned wickedly, then reach for my panties, ripping them from my body. “Trace!” “They were in my way,” he smirked, sliding his boxers down. I took the condom packet from him and tore it open. I slowly rolled it on him, smiling in satisfaction when he twitched against my hand. “I need to be inside you,” he pushed my hands out of the way and finished putting it on himself. I squealed when he grabbed me by the waist and slowly lowered me down his length. “Oh God,” we both moaned simultaneously. His mouth descended on mine, and his tongue pressed against my lips, seeking entrance. He rocked me slowly against him, setting the rhythm. Everything except us ceased to exist in that moment. I was consumed by the feelings he was creating in me. His hand skated up my back, making me shiver. He pulled the ponytail holder from my hair and let it fall forward to conceal us. He cupped my face in his hands, kissing me deeply and making my stomach flutter in the process. Before Trace, I never thought anyone would ever make me feel the way he does … make me want to expose myself in such an intimate way. I might not have been a virgin when I met him, but my first time didn’t really count. A drunken encounter at a party wasn’t comparable to the bond I shared with Trace. What we had … was special. I knew enough to see that. I clasped the ends of his hair in my hands. Laying my head on his shoulder I rocked my hips slowly against him. Our gasping breaths filled the car. All thoughts of someone seeing us had long disappeared. “I love you,” I murmured, pressing my lips against his throat. Until I met Trace, I hadn’t understood how powerful those three words were. Some people tossed them around like they were nothing, when they meant everything. When you love someone as completely as I love Trace, you can make it through everything as long as you’re together. “Not as much as I love you,” he gasped, cupping my cheek and forcing my eyes to meet his. I closed the distance between us, kissing him deeply. There was no talking after that. Nothing else needed to be said, we only needed to feel our love for each other.

Something was brushing against my skin and it was super annoying. I swatted at it and laughter met my ears. With a groan, I opened my eyes slowly. I was sprawled on top of a grinning Trace and he was tickling the bare skin of my shoulder with a piece of my hair. “I was sleeping.” “And my body is numb. Did you know you’re kind of heavy when you’re sleeping?” He tapped my nose with the chunk of my hair he was still playing with. “Did you know that you’re annoyingly peppy in the mornings?” I rolled my eyes, reaching for my shorts and scooting off of his body. I’d put my bra, tank top, and ripped panties on before we fell asleep. After I got my shorts on I crawled over the seats and into the front of the car. “Face it, you love my cheerful personality.” I looked back to see Trace sit up and stretch. The ways his muscles flexed and rippled when he did that left my mouth watering. I never thought I’d be one of those girls constantly checking out guys— or in my case, guy—but I had a hard time taking my eyes off of Trace. He pulled his jeans and shirt on and climbed over the seats like I had. He sat in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield. I looked to, wondering what had captured his attention. A dancing cow, maybe? But there was nothing there. “Tr—” “Marry me?” He cut me off. “Uh,” I raised a brow. “Did I dream that, or didn’t you already propose? I’m kind of confused right

now.” I frowned, looking at him like he’d grown three heads. He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant. What I mean is, marry me … today.” There was no playfulness in his gaze or smile. He was dead serious and I was … shocked. “Today?” I whispered, my voice fleeing me. He nodded. “Today.” “Why?” I gasped. When he frowned, I hastened to add, “Not that I don’t want to marry you today, but our families aren’t even here. Why now?” “Why not now?” He questioned, taking my hands in his. “It’s not that I don’t want them here, but this is about the two of us and our commitment to each other. We can have a wedding with a dress and cake and all that other crap, when we get back. I’m sure they’ll insist. But I don’t want to go another day without you as my wife,” his hand glided up my arm, causing me to shiver, and then rested against my cheek. My eyes closed and a shaky breath gusted between my lips. I had always thought I’d get married with my family surrounding me while wearing a white dress, but what Trace said was making me think differently. Marriage was between the two of us everything else was just pomp and circumstance. “Your mom is going to kill us,” I eyed him. He kissed me quickly and pulled away grinning. “I don’t care.” “You know,” I glanced down at my shorts and plain white tank, “I never really imagined getting married dressed like this.” “Here,” he shrugged out of his red plaid shirt, “put this on.” I laughed as I put it on. “I didn’t picture getting married in your plaid shirt either.” “Who wouldn’t want to get married in plaid?” He scoffed, throwing a wink my way. I shook my head, fighting a smile. “Are we really doing this?” “We are,” he entwined our fingers together and brought our joined hands up to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I really hope your mom doesn’t kill us,” I mumbled. He chuckled. “I think we should be more worried about your mom. Pregnant ladies can get pretty crazy.” I snorted, gazing out the window as he pulled away. “You’re probably right.” “Now,” he smiled, slipping his sunglasses on, “we need to find the nearest courthouse.”

I let Trace lead me into the courthouse and through security. My heart was racing and my hands shook. I was nervous, but not because I was unsure of Trace. I was excited too. And scared. Yeah, definitely scared. Marriage was a big commitment, and while I was ready to be married to him, it still frightened me. So many marriages these days ended in divorce, and I didn’t want to be another statistic. But I knew in my heart and soul that what Trace and I had was special. We were the exception to the rule and I was incredibly lucky to have found him. All it took was one flat tire to completely change the course of my life. It’s quite amazing how life works like that. Trace was speaking with the security guard, asking for directions, but I was completely zoned out. In a matter of minutes, Olivia Owens would cease to exist and Olivia Wentworth would take her place. “Thank you,” Trace said to the guard as he headed for a set of stairs. I hurried behind him—actually, he kind of dragged me since he held my hand and both of us were smiling goofily. This was it. He turned right, heading a short ways down a hallway. He stopped in front of a set of double wooden doors, blowing out a breath between his lips. He put his hand on the knob but didn’t turn it. “Ready?” He looked down at me with happy green eyes. “Do you even need to ask?” I responded. With a grin, he pushed the door open and we stepped inside. There were wooden benches set up and I was surprised to see several couples scattered around. Some had friends and family with them, but most were like us and had no one. Trace sat on one of the benches and pulled me down beside him. The Justice of Peace finished performing the ceremony for one couple and they quickly left the room with huge smiles in their faces. He called another couple up and my heart raced even faster. I counted three more couples ahead of us. “Your hand is sweating,” Trace whispered in my ear. “Sorry,” I blushed, trying to pull my hand from his but he wouldn’t release it. “It’s cute. Are you nervous?” He asked. I nodded. “Aren’t you?” “Baby, I never get nervous,” he smirked. “Of course not,” I rolled my eyes, my lips twitching as they threatened to turn up in a smile. “I don’t want you to be nervous either,” he grazed his thumb over my cheek. “It’s a good kind of nervous,” I assured him. “I promise.” He smiled at that and then jumped as if frightened. I looked around thinking something in the room had caused his reaction. It would be my luck that his ex, Aubrey, would show up. Or something as equally ridiculous. But that wasn’t the case. He pulled his vibrating phone out and frowned at the

screen. I could see that it was his mom calling. He pressed a button, directing her call straight to voicemail, and turned the phone completely off. “I’ll call her later,” he whispered. “Are you going to tell her?” He nodded, releasing my hand and rubbing his on his jeans, a nervous habit of his. “Yeah. No point in waiting. She’s going to get pissed either way.” “We can wait,” I placed my hand on his forearm. The muscle was tight from tension. “No,” he shook his head. “I want to marry you today. I’m sick of putting everyone else’s happiness before mine. This is for us and no one else.” “Trace—” “I’m fine,” he assured me. “Are you?” I questioned worriedly. “I don’t want you to do this,” I motioned to the courtroom, “just because you feel it’s the only way to establish control. I love you, Trace. I don’t care when or where we get married. If you want to walk out those doors right now, that’s—” He silenced me with a kiss. Damn him. “You’ve really got to stop doing that,” I groaned when he released me. “Well, you talk too much,” he smirked. Sobering, he added, “It hurts me that you’d think that. All I want is to be married to you, I swear. No hidden agenda here. When we get back home, I’m going to make sure you get a traditional wedding with a white dress, cake, and flowers. Whatever the hell you want, it’s yours.” I fought a smile. “That’s quite a promise.” “It’s one I can keep,” he responded, biting his lip. He didn’t bite his lip often, but when he did it sent my tummy fluttering. He wasn’t even trying to be seductive, but it was working. We were quiet as the rest of the ceremonies were performed. When we were called up, I thought my heart was going to race right out of my chest. The Justice of Peace smiled pleasantly at us. “Do you have any witnesses with you?” I shook my head. “No,” Trace answered, “do these lovely people count?” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder to more couples that had come in after us. “They sure do,” the kind gray-haired man smiled. He began speaking and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to repeat after him, or Trace, or was I just supposed to say I do? Oh crap, I was panicking, and therefore sweating in places no one should ever sweat. When the Justice of Peace paused, waiting for me to respond, I shouted, “I do!” Trace threw his head back in laughter and the other couples in the room joined in. I was sure my face was red as a tomato. Lovely. Stifling his laughter, Trace said to the Justice of Peace, “At least she’s excited to marry me.” The man chuckled, one of those hardy belly laughs that always made me think of Santa. “That’s for sure.” And I officially wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Could you die from embarrassment? If you could, I was sure I was a few seconds away from being cosmically struck by lightning. “It was my turn to say, ‘I do,’” Trace winked. My face reddened even more. “Oops,” I shifted my eyes guiltily to the floor. “Would you like me to start over?” The man asked. “No need,” Trace smiled pleasantly. My eyes were still downcast and he grabbed my chin, forcing my face up. “Don’t be embarrassed.” That was easier said than done. I nodded though, to make him feel better. “I do,” Trace said, squaring his shoulders, and holding my hands in his. I forced myself to listen to what the man was saying this time, so I didn’t say anything I wasn’t supposed to. “Olivia Camille Owens, do you take Trace Alexander Wentworth to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only to him forevermore?” “I do,” I answered softly but without hesitation. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” he clapped Trace on the shoulder.

“About time,” Trace grinned, taking my cheeks between his hands and kissing me deeply. He dipped me down and my hair skimmed the floor. He pulled away, breathing heavily. “Hello, wife.” “Husband,” I replied with a quiet giggle. He took my hand and we ran out of the room and all the way out to the parking lot. When we reached the car, he pushed me against it and caged me in with his arms. His head lowered and his lips pressed softly against mine at first, then grew more urgent. My fingers knotted in the fabric of his wife-beater as I tried to get as close to him as possible. “We’re not staying in some crappy motel tonight,” his lips fluttered over the curve of my jaw. I nodded in agreement. “Tonight is our wedding tonight,” he murmured, “and you deserve the best.” Before I could reply, he was kissing me again and all coherent thoughts disappeared. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my back pressed roughly into the car. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but I didn’t mind. His hands roamed down my body, settling beneath my butt as his hips pressed firmly into me. I gasped and his tongue flicked against my lips. He kissed the corner of my mouth and pulled away. I lowed my legs but he kept a firm grip on my waist. “I think we better find a hotel,” he winked. “I’d really hate to get arrested for indecent exposure on my wedding day.” “That would ruin the mood,” I agreed, my words coming out breathless. He kissed me lightly once more and opened the car door for me. He drove for ten minutes and pulled into the parking lot of a Holiday Inn. “It’s not the fanciest,” he shrugged, “but it’s better than a smelly motel.” I laughed in response. I loved that we were still joking about that first motel. “Be right back,” he assured me. I watched him jog into the hotel, shaking my head. Someone was in a hurry and the reason was pretty obvious. Men. He returned a few minutes later, spinning a room keycard between his fingers. He opened the passenger door and held his hand out for me to take. “Come on, wifey,” he smirked. “I take it someone’s ready to consummate this marriage,” I joked. “You make me sound like a horndog,” he frowned. “Okay, maybe I am,” he admitted. “But only for you.” “Mhmm,” I murmured, heading for the trunk, but his hold on my hand kept me from getting there. “I’ll get our stuff later,” he smiled suggestively. Before I knew what was happening, he swept my legs out from under me. “Trace!” I exclaimed, causing people in the parking lot to turn our way. “What are you doing?” “Carrying you over the threshold,” he responded, heading towards the sliding glass doors that led into the hotel. “I don’t think it counts as a threshold unless we’re home.” “Well, we’ll just have to repeat the whole process over when we get back,” he chuckled, his lips brushing dangerously close to mine as he spoke. My eyes fluttered closed at the feel of the feather light touch. He carried me through the lobby and the few people mingling stared at us curiously. He pushed the button for the elevator and I tried to get down but he wouldn’t let me go. “Trace,” I groaned, “let me down. I’ll get too heavy.” He rolled his eyes as he snorted. “Woman, you’re light. I’m fine. Stop worrying so much.” “I don’t want to break you,” I mumbled. He laughed at that. “It’ll take a lot more than that to break me. I assure you.” The elevator doors opened and a family stepped out, looking at us like we’d grown three heads. Once in the elevator he still wouldn’t put me down. Stubborn man. I wrapped my arms around his neck and laid my head on his shoulder. I might as well get comfortable. I knew he wouldn’t put me down until he was good and ready. He pushed the button for the fourth floor and the doors slid closed. My heart rate spiked with the knowledge of what was coming. I pulled back and gazed up in wonder at him. Suddenly, he wasn’t just Trace—the scruffy, fun-loving, sucky dancer I fell in love with. He was my husband—the man I’d be spending the rest of my life with. The man I knew I couldn’t live without.

“What?” He asked when he noticed my staring. “Nothing,” I whispered, laying my head against his shoulder once more. My eyes closed and a smile of satisfaction graced my lips. The doors dinged open and he started down the hallway, murmuring room numbers under his breath. “Aha,” he smiled in triumph as he stopped in front of one. He slid the keycard into the slot and it blinked with a green light. He opened the door and stepped inside, letting it slam closed behind him. He carried me to the bed and dropped me on top. I giggled, scolding him. “Trace!” He dropped on top of me, but caught his weight on his hands. I bounced from the momentum, biting my lip to stifle my laughter. “Hey,” he murmured in a husky voice, his green eyes darkening to a forest green color. “Hi,” I smiled, reaching up to trace my finger over his lips. He opened his mouth and playfully nipped at my finger. “Did we really get married?” I cupped his stubbled cheeks between my hands. He nodded. “Already regretting it?” “Never,” I shook my head. “I know we’re young,” he whispered, lowering his head to skim his nose along my collarbone and up my neck, “but I feel like I’ve been waiting for this day since the moment I knew you were the one.” “And when did you know I was the one?” I dared to ask. He pulled back slightly, gazing at me thoughtfully. “It wasn’t just a single moment that I can name. It was an accumulation of moments that added up over time and I knew that I’d never be happy with anyone else. You were made for me, Olivia.” “And you were made for me,” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Glad you think so,” he smiled crookedly. “I know so.” He placed a kiss on the end of my nose and whispered huskily, “I think we should stop talking now.” I nodded in agreement as my back arched off the bed so that I could kiss him. He cupped the back of my head, his fingers tangling in the wavy strands of my hair. I lightly bit his bottom lip and he growled low in his throat, causing my stomach to flood with warmth. His free hand skimmed over my cheek, down my neck, and over my shoulder. He pushed the plaid shirt he’d lent me off of my shoulders. It pooled at my elbows and I released my hold on him long enough to remove it. “Your turn,” I gasped breathlessly. With a raspy chuckle he pulled away and stood in front of me. He hooked his fingers into the back of the shirt and pulled it off. I stared at his beautifully sculpted body and the tattoos that adorned his skin. I couldn’t believe that he was mine. “Come here,” I crooked a finger, beckoning him forward. He wet his lips, fighting a smile, but lowered his body over mine once more. I felt so small and protected cocooned beneath him like this. I ran my fingers greedily over the hard lines of his abdominal muscles. I smiled in satisfaction when a tremor rocked his body and his eyes fluttered closed as his breath gusted between his lips. I loved that I could affect him this way. It pleased me to know that our relationship wasn’t just one way. He was as affected by me, as I was by him, and that was a beautiful thing. “Make love to me,” I breathed and his eyes opened at my words. “I thought you’d never ask,” he murmured. He eased his fingers under the edge of my tank top and I shivered at his touch, Goosebumps breaking out across my skin. He tapped a finger against my belly button ring and then his hands began to venture higher. Before reaching my breasts, his hand descended once more, and he grasped the bottom of my tank. He tugged it over my head and tossed it behind him. He unsnapped my bra and threw it behind him as well. “That’s better,” he smiled, taking my breasts in his hands, testing the fullness. “Trace,” I whined, lifting my hips slightly. “Patience,” he whispered in my ear, his voice raspy. “Good things come to those who wait, Olivia.” I mewled in protest. Waiting was torture. “Please,” I begged.

“No,” he growled, pulling my earlobe between his teeth and nipping it. I whimpered, not because it hurt, but because he wasn’t giving me what I wanted. I grasped his dark hair between my fingers and gasped when one his fingers delved into my shorts. Now we were getting somewhere. But when I was close to an orgasm he pulled his hand away. I cried out in displeasure. “Trace, please,” I cried. “Not yet,” he kissed my belly, “not until I’m inside you.” “Then hurry up,” I demanded. “Not yet,” he repeated, kissing his way up my stomach, over my breasts before finally reaching my lips. My mouth opened beneath his and his tongue flicked against my own. My hands found his belt and undid it with ease. I popped the button and slid the zipper down, brazenly running my hand over the curve of his erection. Two could play this game. “Olivia,” he gasped my name, the sound of it filling my body with warmth. He kicked his jeans off and grasped me by the waist, moving me so that my head was on one of the pillows. “You’ll be the end of me,” he whispered, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I could say the same about him, but all coherent thoughts had gone out the window. His lips glided over mine before nipping at my chin and down my neck. I was getting impatient, but I knew from past experiences that if I complained too much about his slow pace, he’d only go that much slower. I think he liked torturing me. He moved down my body, hooking his thumbs into the sides of my panties and pulling them down. When they reached my ankles I kicked them off. “I think you’re a bit over dressed,” I pointed to his boxers. “Not yet.” Ugh. If he said that to me one more time I might lose my mind. He kissed the sides of my thighs, spreading me open. “Trace,” I gasped. “Olivia,” he chuckled my name as his tongue flicked out. My back arched off the bed and I reached up, gripping one of the pillows tightly in my hand. Just like before, when I was close he pulled away. I groaned in protest, squeezing my eyes shut in frustration. When I finally opened my eyes, he was braced above me, staring. The tip of him nudged my entrance and I whimpered. I wanted to beg, but I bit down harshly on my lip to keep any words from leaving. He adjusted his weight and lifted a hand to pull my bottom lip from between my teeth. “You’ll make yourself bleed,” he whispered and then tenderly kissed the lip I’d almost injured. He stared at me for a long moment, his gaze causing a tremor to shake my body, and slowly slipped inside me. “About time,” I gasped, causing him to chuckle lightly. He sat up, bringing me with him. He cradled me against his chest, looking into my eyes. It was extremely intimate but I didn’t shy away. I trusted Trace. He knew the real me. He kissed me deeply, sucking on my bottom lip, as I rocked my hips against his. I ran my hands over his muscular chest before settling them around his neck. “I love you,” he said fiercely as he stared into my eyes and straight down to my soul. “I love you too.” I knew what we had was a special kind of love. You have to love someone at their worst, to truly love them at their best. Trace had seen me at my worst, my best, and everything in between, and he still loved me. That’s true love. The kind that lasts for eternity.

After round three we were both exhausted and unable to move. My body was curled around his, our legs entwined together, and my head rested on his shoulder with my long hair fanning around us.

“Is it just me, or is it even better now that we’re married?” He panted. I lightly traced my finger over his chest in a random design, mulling over what he said. “I think you’re right.” He chuckled at that. “Maybe living in sin was weighing on me.” “Hardly,” I snorted, moving my index finger over the tattoo on his heart that he’d gotten in memory of his dad. “Eh, you’re right. I didn’t care.” He placed his hand over mine to cease its movements. “It’s still better though, because now I know you’re really mine and you’re not going anywhere.” “I wasn’t going anywhere before. Besides, if I had run away … again,” I added, thinking of the times I’d become insecure because of his ex, “you wouldn’t have let me get very far.” “Damn straight. If you’re not by my side, I will chase you down, woman,” he grinned, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear and gliding his fingers lightly over the curve of my cheek. “I would go to the ends of the earth for you, because I love you and when someone owns your heart, like you do mine, you don’t let them get away.” “Whoa.” “What?” He rolled over so that he was above me. “It’s the truth. My life was ‘okay’ before you came along. But from the moment I met you, I finally understood what it meant when people said someone ‘owned you’. It’s not necessarily about ownership. It’s about caring more for that person than you do for yourself. When I saw you standing by your car, with those big sad brown eyes, I knew the sadness had nothing to do with your tire and that something else was eating at you. I wanted to get to know you and unravel your secrets so that I could slay your dragons and be your Prince Charming.” I giggled, covering my face with my hands. “I’m never going to live that one down.” “Your stuttering about Prince Charming was adorable,” he assured me, pulling my hands from my face, “especially since you were referring to me. Although, most princes aren’t as ruggedly handsome as I am,” he ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. “You got lucky.” “I know.” “I’m glad you agree,” he smirked, rolling off of me. “You’re something else,” I laughed, rolling onto my side and propping my head in my hand. “Something spectacular,” he waggled his brows. “Stop talking,” I mumbled, laying my head on his shoulder once more. “I can do that.” “Yeah, right,” I snorted. He mimed zipping his lips. My eyes grew heavy and surrounded by his body heat I found myself being lulled into a peaceful sleep.

My hand reached out, patting against the sheets as I searched for Trace. When my hand kept connecting with cool sheets I finally forced my eyes open. Early morning light filtered in through the flimsy hotel curtains. I peeked at the clock, groaning at the time. Six o’ clock was too early for me. I sat up, holding the sheet over my chest, and looked around the room. Trace wasn’t anywhere to be found and there were no sounds coming from the small bathroom. I slipped from the sheets and showered, changing into my clothes from yesterday since our bags were still in the car. I chose to forgo the tank top, opting to wear his plaid shirt open over my bra. I had just sat down on the bed and was turning on the TV when the door opened. He came inside with our bags slung over his shoulders and two cups of coffee from Starbucks. “My hero!” I exclaimed, reaching out with grabby hands for one of the cups of coffee. “Cinnamon Dolce Latte,” he smirked, handing it to me. I took a tentative sip of the liquid, fearing it might be a scalding temperature, but it was perfect. “If I’m going to be up early,” I pointed at the clock, “I need my coffee.” He shook his head, laughing under his breath at me. “Why do you hate mornings so much?” “Because,” I drew my knees up to my chest, cradling the precious coffee close to me, “I like my sleep. You, on the other hand, seem to be fine with no sleep.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ve never needed much sleep. Much to my mother’s dismay. I’m sure if you asked she’d tell you stories of how I used to keep her up all night as a baby.” “I’m sure you were a very interesting child.” “Is that your nice way of saying weird?” He questioned, his lips twitching into a smile. “You are weird. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He frowned at his cup of coffee. “I hate these stupid cups they give you. Who wants to drink coffee with a lid? I want my Yoda mug.” “Of course you do,” I laughed, scooting back in the bed so that I could rest against the headboard. It may have been a Holiday Inn but the room was clean and didn’t smell. The walls were painted a buttery yellow with maroon carpet. The covers on the king-size bed were in a similar color palette and the pictures on the walls were the typical floral ones all hotels seemed to have. “Yoda makes everything better,” he joked, sitting down beside me and stretching his long legs out. “Your mom tried to call me.” “She did?” “Yeah. I—uh—had turned my phone off yesterday after my mom called, so I didn’t see it until now.” “She probably wonders what happened,” I laughed. “I still can’t believe I dropped my phone in the glass of water.” “That was hilarious,” he chortled, setting his coffee cup on the bedside table. “It was funny,” I agreed. “Except, now I don’t have a phone.”

“We’ll get you one today,” he assured me, “before your hormonal mom tries to track us down. Our road trip isn’t quite over yet.” “Where are we going next?” He shrugged, looking away from me. It was evasive behavior from him and it piqued my curiosity immediately. “Trace,” I probed. “I thought we’d stay here for another day,” he mumbled, plucking at the white sheet. “Then head out.” “M’kay,” I eyed him. “What are you hiding?” “Nothing,” he insisted. “I just want to hang here with my wife.” He batted his eyes innocently. “Yeah, right. Come on, spit it out. I’m not dumb, Trace. What do you have up your sleeve? You’re not going to make me jump out of a plane are you? ‘Cause I’m definitely not doing that.” He laughed at that, shaking his head. “No planes,” he promised when he had regained the ability to speak. “So, what is it then? And don’t you dare say, ‘nothing,’” I mimicked his tone. “It’s a surprise,” he admitted, glancing towards the window so he didn’t have to look at me. “Be patient.” “Fine,” I reluctantly agreed. I knew there was no point in pushing him. If Trace said he had a surprise for me, then his lips were sealed. “I’m gonna head down and get some breakfast,” he said after we’d been quiet for a few minutes. “Do you want to come with me? Or would you rather I brought food up here?” I stretched out, letting the plaid shirt I was wearing fall open. “I think here sounds like I pretty good idea to me.” His eyes widened, scanning over my stomach and up to my breasts concealed behind a lacy black bra. “Oh, fuck the food.”

Two hours later we were sitting in bed, finally eating breakfast. I was starving. By the time I was full, there wasn’t a single crumb left on my plate. “Uh,” I placed the plate on the end table and laid my head down on the pillow. “I’m so full.” “You were hungry,” he chuckled. “That happens when you burn a lot of calories.” I smacked his arm lightly. “I’m sleepy now,” I crooked an arm over my eyes, shielding them from the sunlight streaming in through the window. “No,” he pried my arm away. “We don’t have time for sleepiness. We should go explore the town. This place seems … cute.” “Uh,” I groaned. “I don’t think I can move for at least five hours.” “You can do it. I believe in you,” he winked, beaming at me. Damn him and his cheerfulness. I wish I felt that peppy. But I was exhausted and my muscles were sore. He kept smiling at me, willing me to cave, and eventually I did. I never could resist his charms. “Fine,” I sat up, smoothing my hair back. “I knew you’d eventually agree,” he hopped off the bed, riffling through his duffel bag. “You’re hard to resist,” I grumbled, forcing my tired body from the bed. “Impossible, actually,” he smirked over his shoulder at me. “Your cockiness will be your downfall,” I muttered, unzipping my duffel bag and looking for something clean to wear. I couldn’t wait to get to the lake house in Maine so we could wash our clothes. I knew the hotel probably had a laundry area guests could use, but I was weird and kept imagining some strange bacteria ending up on my clothes from them. “Not cocky, just confident,” he reminded me. “You keep on telling yourself that,” I retorted. “Is this our first martial spat?” He looked over at me, pulling clothes from his duffel bag. “Oh, please,” I shook my head. “This is hardly a fight.” “Good to know,” he chuckled, changing into clean jeans and yet another wife-beater and plaid shirt. I

swear he had an endless supply. I grabbed a clean pair of shorts and shimmied into them. Then put on a plain white v-neck t-shirt. Simple was my way. I had already brushed my teeth earlier, but I did it again since I’d eaten breakfast. My hair was a wavy mess, and since I didn’t want to take the time to make it look presentable, I pulled it to the side in a fishtail braid. I had put on foundation when I got out of the shower. I was still continuing in my efforts to hide the slow fading bruise from Trace. I added some mascara to my lashes and deemed myself ready enough. I put on my favorite pair of old converses and said, “I’m ready.” Trace was reclined on the bed with his hands crossed behind his head. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering over my mostly bare legs. “Yes, you are,” he wet his lips. “Trace,” I scolded. “Don’t look at me like that or we’re never going to leave this room.” “Why did I want to leave? That was a dumb idea. I should’ve kept you chained to this bed all day,” he shook his head and heaved himself off the bed. “I think I might break apart if you keep at it,” I warned him. “I’m sore.” “Sorry,” he strode over to me, grasping my elbows. “I’ll try to keep myself under control.” “Good luck with that,” I patted his chest condescendingly as I backed away. “Oh, is that a challenge,” he wrapped an arm around my waist, hugging me against him, and swiped the room key off the dresser with his free hand. “Nope, no challenge. I’ll end up being the one that gets burned then,” I tried to wiggle free from his hold but he was too strong. He opened the door and we stepped into the hallway. Before I had walked two steps, he was hauling me over his shoulder. “Trace!” I shrieked, beating his back. “Put me down.” “If my wife is so sore,” he smacked my butt, “I’ll have to carry her.” “You’re embarrassing me.” “A little embarrassment never hurt anyone,” he laughed and I heard the elevator door ding. “Are you going to put me down now?” I asked as the doors slid closed. “Not a chance.” “They’re so going to kick us out,” I pouted. “Don’t be such a Debbie Downer,” he adjusted his grip on me. “How am I being a downer? I’m simply stating the obvious. Now, please put me down. I’m getting light-headed.” “Fine,” he lowered me to the ground, but didn’t release his hold on me. He kissed my forehead, a small smile on his face. “I swear,” I grumbled, pulling my shorts down, “I think you get some kind of sick enjoyment out of embarrassing me.” “You’re so adorable when you get pissed,” he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “The fact that you think I’m cute when I’m angry says a lot about our relationship,” I couldn’t help laughing. The elevator doors slid open and I followed him out to the car. “Where are we going first?” “To get you a new phone,” He answered, unlocking the car, as his own cellphone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “It’s my mom. I better answer it. Your mom probably told her that she couldn’t get ahold of you.” “Yeah, go ahead,” I replied, buckling my seatbelt. “Hey mom,” he answered. “Yeah, we’re good. Really? No, I haven’t talked to him. I’ll call him later and check up on Ace. Nothing much, just got married—” He held the phone away from his ear and I flinched at his mother’s shrieks. I couldn’t tell if they were good or bad. He clicked the button to put it on speaker and said, “Mom? Are you okay? Should I alert the paramedics of a possible heart attack?” “Married?” She asked breathlessly. “Yeah,” Trace replied, looking at me guiltily. “When?” She gasped for breath. He must have really shocked her. “Yesterday afternoon. It was a lovely ceremony in a New Hampshire courthouse. You should’ve been

there, mom,” he joked. “Trace Alexander Wentworth, now is not the time for your smart mouth remarks. I can’t believe you got married without your family there. Your grandpa is going to be so mad when I tell him.” “How is Gramps?” Trace questioned, swallowing thickly. “Is he okay?” “He’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be?” “No reason,” Trace stared out the window. “I’m really sorry, Lily,” I spoke up. “There’s no need for you to apologize, Olivia. I know this wasn’t your idea.” “Hey,” I said, looking at Trace questioningly, “we didn’t exchange rings, so maybe when we get back home we can have a ceremony at the mansion for everyone. We can even make Trace where a tux. Think you can plan something nice on short notice?” I asked her. Trace had said I could have a traditional wedding ceremony. Hopefully he hadn’t promised that just to sweet talk me into getting married yesterday. “I’ve been throwing parties since I was twenty. I can put together a nice wedding ceremony in no time. Are you thinking the end of the month? That would give you plenty of time to get home,” Lily said. “Sounds good to me.” “Do I really have to wear a tux?” Trace asked. “Yes,” Lily and I said simultaneously. “Great,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look mom, we’ve gotta go. I love you.” “Love you too. And Olivia, keep your phone on. I’ll be calling you to ask for details. Okay?” “Uh—” Trace snorted. “Olivia drowned her phone. We’re going to get her a new one now. She’ll call you with her new number.” “Oh, okay! I love you guys! Bye!” She chimed and then the line went dead. “I can’t believe we just agreed to that,” he mumbled. I punched his shoulder. “You’re the one that said we could have a real wedding when we got back. This way, we can exchange our rings, and still have the typical ceremony with our friends and family there. I hope your mom doesn’t go all out, though,” I frowned, wiping my hands on my legs in a nervous gesture. “I’d prefer to keep it simple.” “Don’t worry,” he leaned over and placed a tender kiss on my cheek, “my mom knows our taste.” I giggled. “There better not be any plaid.” He scoffed. “Plaid is delightful. You looked beautiful in it yesterday when you said, ‘I do.’” I shook my head, at a loss for words. Finally, I said, “Do you think Gramps is going to be upset with us?” When Trace had come up with the brilliant idea of getting married yesterday, I hadn’t thought at all about what Gramps would think or feel. But Gramps was dying and he deserved to be there. What we had done was selfish; there was no other word for it. Trace’s hands tightened around the steering wheel as he pulled out of the hotel parking lot. A muscle in his jaw twitched and I wasn’t sure if he was going to answer me, but after a minute he said, “Yeah. He’ll be pissed. He—uh—” His gaze flicked towards me. “He told me, before we left, that he hoped we might consider getting married before,” he swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “before he dies.” He bit his bottom lip and I knew he was fighting tears. I reached out and placed my hand on his thigh, hoping to offer any comfort that I could. “Well then,” I forced a smile, “I guess it’s a good thing your mom’s going to plan a ceremony for when we get back.” “Yeah,” he nodded stiffly, turning into the parking lot of a strip mall. He parked and sat there for a moment, staring out the windshield as if he was searching for something. After a few minutes he shook his head and got out of the car. I did the same, following him into a Verizon Store. He gave his name to one of the techs working there and then sat on a bench to wait. “Trace—” He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Not talking about it doesn’t make it go away,” I whispered, rubbing a hand soothingly up and down his back. “I know that,” he mumbled, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. “But I’d

prefer not to think about it.” I could understand and respect that. After what Aaron did to me, I’d preferred to push it to the back of my mind. Thinking that if I convinced myself that it hadn’t really happened then somehow that would eventually be true. It was an unhealthy way of thinking, but a coping mechanism that many clung to. “Trace, we have to face reality. Gramps is dying. Not thinking about it doesn’t stop it from happening. We have to brace ourselves for the inevitable. I know what you’re feeling is ten times worse than what I’m feeling,” I whispered, trying not to cry. “But I love him too, Trace. He welcomed me into your family like I was of his blood. He never treated me differently or looked down at me. Not many people are as … exceptional as Gramps is.” “Stop making me feel bad,” he mumbled, looking away from me. I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m just trying to get you to understand.” “I do understand. But it’s easier not to feel,” his voice shook. “Maybe that’s weak of me, but it’s what I have to do. I need to be numb.” I shook my head. He was being a stubborn idiot. But I didn’t want to piss him off so I shut my mouth hoping the opportunity would present itself and I could bring it up later.

A few hours later, we left the store and I was the proud new owner of the latest iPhone. My previous phone had been a cheap touchscreen that didn’t at all compare to this. “I think I’m in love,” I gasped, playing with the settings. Trace chuckled, starting the car. “Should I be jealous?” “Maybe,” I smiled, setting a picture of us as my wallpaper. “So,” he started, “I was thinking …” “Yeah?” I prompted, when he trailed off. “You agreed to sing with me at the bar the other night, but since … well … you know,” he growled, “that fucker pushed—” “He didn’t push me,” I interrupted. “Well, he might as well have,” Trace snapped. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat, softening his tone, “I thought you might sing with me tonight. There’s a coffee shop not too far from here that has live music and patrons can sign up to sing.” “How do you find these places?” I asked incredulously. “I saw it this morning when I went to get you Starbucks. Soooo? What do you say?” I frowned. I didn’t really want to sing. But the jerk was pouting and giving me puppy dog eyes. Besides, I had agreed the other night. “Fine,” I tossed my hands in the air. “I’ll sing.” “That didn’t take much convincing,” he smiled, pleased with himself. “Yeah, well, don’t make me regret it,” I crossed my arms over my chest, taking in the small town as we drove through. It was cute and quaint, kind of reminding me of home. “Are we going back to the hotel?” “Nah,” he shook his head. “Thought we’d drive around for a bit. Get some lunch. See the sights.” “What sights?” I replied sarcastically. “There are unique things in any place,” he poked my cheek to annoy me. “You just have to know where to look.” “And somehow you know how to find these places? Does Dora teach you how to find them?” He threw his head back in laughter. “First off, Dora is highly educational and I like to brush up on my Spanish. Secondly, I can sing the backpack song better than anyone. Thirdly,” he held up three fingers, “I happen to be a very awesome explorer.” “You—ugh,” I groaned, at a loss for words. Trace truly was one of a kind. When we had kids one day, they were going to have the coolest dad ever. “Have I rendered you speechless?” He scratched his stubbly jaw. “It’s okay. It happens to a lot of people. They don’t know how to handle all of this,” he motioned a hand to his body. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a minute to compose yourself,” he smiled boyishly.

I put my hand over my mouth to hide my smile. A few minutes later he found a parking spot along the street and parked the car. He hopped out, rifling through the pocket of his ratty jeans for some change to put in the meter. When the meter was full, he took my hand and we started down the street, ambling in and out of the little shops. “Let’s go in there,” I pointed to a unique looking little store that had quote plaques in the window and handmade paper stars. When we stepped inside, I looked up in awe. More paper stars, in varying sizes and color, adorned the ceiling. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. My neck began to hurt with the craning I was doing but I couldn’t stop looking. They were mesmerizing. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” A voice said, snapping me back to reality. I straightened my neck and found myself gazing at a kind older lady. Her gray hair hung to her shoulders and her blue eyes were kind with crinkles at the corners. Laugh lines wrinkled her mouth. She smiled sweetly at me, waiting for me to reply. “Amazing,” I gasped when I finally found my voice. “My son and I made every single one of those. He’s gone now though,” she said sadly. “I find origami very relaxing. Have you ever tried?” She asked, clasping her hands together. “No,” I shook my head. “I don’t think I’d have the patience. And I’m sorry about your son,” I added. She waved her hand in dismissal. “Ah, but maybe it would teach you to have some,” she laughed quietly. “I could teach you, if you’d like. Or I have some instruction books and starter kits,” she pointed to a far corner of the room. “The starter kits have precut strips of paper to make it easier.” “I’m not sure,” I frowned. “We’ll take one,” Trace said, appearing at my side, draping an arm over my shoulder. “I think Olivia would be good at origami.” The woman’s smile widened. “What a pretty name. I always liked that name.” “Thank you.” “I’m Margaret,” she held out her hand. “My husband and I own this store.” “Well, it’s lovely. You already know I’m Olivia, and this is my husband, Trace.” My heart stopped beating for a moment when I said ‘husband’. It was strange to think that I was actually married, but wonderful at the same time. “Nice to meet you both,” she shook each of our hands. “Look around, take your time. If you need anything, I’ll be here,” she smiled kindly, moving behind the register where she appeared to be organizing something. I scanned down the aisles, picking up things here and there. I came to a small plaque, about as long as my hand and not very wide. It was wood and painted blue on all the sides except the front, where a Volkswagen Beetle was painted. But that wasn’t what had caught my eye. It was the quote. “‘Life is but a breath—live it well,’” I whispered, reading it off the plaque. “What’s that?” Trace asked, appearing over my shoulder. I held it up where he could see and he read the quote aloud as well. “Huh. That makes you think.” I nodded, thinking of how my own life had almost been snuffed out and Gramps’ was coming to a close. Nothing guaranteed that we’d get to live to be old and gray. Each of us was only allotted so much time here on earth and it was up to us to decide how to live it. I wanted to make every moment count. I didn’t want to have regrets. “I’m buying this,” I informed him, holding onto the small plaque. “No,” he took it from my hand, “I’m buying it for you. I’m your husband now,” he kissed the corner of my mouth, “so you better get used to me spoiling you. I know you don’t like it and I let you off the hook while we were dating. But now we’re married. So, it’s my job to take care of you.” “Fine,” I agreed, “but only because it’s cheap.” “It wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t. I’d still buy it,” he sauntered off, investigating another part of the store. I laughed under my breath at him. I came to the book Margaret had been talking about. I picked it up, flipping through the pages. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to turn pieces of paper into art, but a part of me wanted to try, so I tucked the book under my arm and grabbed one of the kits she’d also told me about. I didn’t think a kit was actually necessary, but if it could help me not suck at origami, then I’d give it a shot. After all,

I needed a hobby. With school over, and no permanent teaching position, I needed something to distract my mind. I met Trace at the register and he paid for the items. “I’m glad you decided to try the origami,” Margaret commented as she bagged our stuff. “Me too,” I smiled kindly at her. “Hopefully I won’t suck at it.” “Origami isn’t that hard, but it does take patience. It’ll take you a couple of tries until you get it right. Just don’t give up.” “I’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Trace assured her, taking the silver bag from her. “If you live nearby and have any trouble, feel free to swing by and I’ll help you. I’m here every day,” she leaned her elbows on the counter. “Sorry,” I frowned, “but we’re not from here.” “I didn’t think you looked like locals,” she laughed. “Enjoy your time here,” she smiled. “Thanks,” I waved lamely at her as I started towards the door. I looked up at the paper stars one more time before exiting onto the street. There was something about looking at them that made me feel at peace. Trace’s hand wound around my waist and his lips brushed against my forehead as we continued down the street. “Did you bring a dress with you?” He asked. “No,” I shook my head. “Why? Do I need one?” “Not necessarily,” he shrugged. “I thought if we were going to sing tonight you’d look beautiful in a dress.” I glanced down at my tank and shorts feeling underdressed. I didn’t want creepy old guys staring at my legs and chest. At least a dress would cover more. “A dress would be nice,” I admitted. “Good,” he grinned. “I’m glad you see things my way. I was expecting an argument.” “Am I really that argumentative?” I questioned curiously. “No,” his nose wrinkled in thought. “But you’re very stubborn.” “And you aren’t?” I raised a brow. “Baby, I’m a go with the flow kind of guy.” I laughed, heading inside a clothing store. I scanned through the clothes, pondering what I’d like to wear. “Hey, look at this!” Trace called from across the store, earning us a glare from the woman working there. “Trace, keep your voice down,” I scolded, heading his way. “Sorry,” he grinned so I knew he really wasn’t all that sorry. “What did you find?” I stopped in front of him, waiting for him to show me. He pulled out a hanger, showing me a floral corset. I paled. “No way. I’m not wearing a corset,” I shook my head adamantly. “Aw, come on, Olivia. You have the body for it. Please,” he pouted, “for your husband?” I closed my eyes, willing myself not to give into his demands. “What would I wear with it?” I argued. His smile was triumphant. “This,” he pulled out a blush colored high waisted skirt. It kind of reminded me of a tutu, but not as poufy. “And tell me, how did you come to pick this out? You’re not exactly the most fashionable guy,” I pointed at his plaid shirt. “It was on one of the mannequins in the window,” he admitted with a small shrug of his lean shoulders, “and I thought it would look hot on you. Especially with those shoes,” he pointed. I turned to see the mannequin he was talking about. It was dressed in the corset and skirt with aqua blue high heels. “I’ll die in those,” I stated. “They have to be at least four inches.” “I would never let you fall,” he sighed, in exasperation. “Will you please wear it?” It was pretty cute. “Fine,” I agreed, after making him sweat it for a moment. “I’ll wear it.” “Good,” his eyes darkened and his voice grew husky, “because as much as I want to see you in it, I’m going to enjoy taking it off of you even more later.”

I shivered at his promising tone. “Go grab the shoes and I’ll meet you at the register,” he said, already striding away. “If you see anything else you want, get it,” he called. I shook my head, chuckling at his bossiness. I found the shoes in my size and tucked the box under my arm. The store had a lot of cute clothes that kept catching my eye, and while I knew Trace would buy me anything I desired, I didn’t want that. I didn’t like being spoiled. It made me feel … dependent. I knew Trace was only being sweet, but I liked working and having my own money to buy things. I understood he had the money to blow, but I’d rather he buy himself something, not me. “Didn’t see anything else?” He asked, when I met him at the register. “No,” I smiled. The look he gave me told me that he didn’t believe me. “Honestly,” I added, leaning against the counter. “Alright,” he shrugged, smiling at the sales girl who was currently checking him out. I was used to girls swooning over Trace, so it didn’t really bother me, but it was annoying when they stood there gawking instead of doing their job. “We’d like this,” Trace pointed to the items on the counter when she didn’t move. She shook her head harshly, snapping herself out of a daze. “Oh, right. Of course. I’m sorry.” Trace ignored her, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He smiled at me sheepishly. “This is all?” She asked, ringing up the items. “We have some perfumes on sale,” she pointed a finger at a round table set up near the door. “Olivia?” Trace prompted. “I don’t want anything else,” I assured him. “You heard the woman,” Trace laughed. The sales girl’s gaze flicked my way and jealousy sparked in her eyes. I wondered if Trace was wearing his I Heart Ketchup shirt if she’d still feel that way. She totaled the items and rattled off the price. Trace handed over his shiny black credit card and let her swipe it. The receipt printed out and she put it in the bag along with the other items. “Have a nice day,” she forced a smile as she handed me the pale pink shopping bag. “You too,” I said, trying to be polite. When we stepped outside, Trace grabbed his phone from his pocket, looking at the time. “Let’s head back to the hotel and get ready. That way, we can grab a nice dinner before we head to the coffee shop. I’m sick of fast food.” “Sounds good to me,” I shrugged, turning in the direction to head back to the car. Luckily, when we made it back to the hotel, he didn’t try to carry me inside. I dropped my shopping bags on the bed, kicking off my sneakers. “I’m gonna shower,” he pointed over his shoulder at the bathroom. “Care to join me?” He grinned cheekily. “I already showered,” I replied, pulling off my socks and knotting them into a ball. “Alright, fine, your loss,” he shrugged as he entered the bathroom and closed the door. I knew it wouldn’t take Trace long to get ready, he was a guy after all, so that meant I better get a move on. There was a floor length mirror hanging on the wall beside the dresser. I stood in front of it, pulling my hair out of the braid and trying to tame the wavy strands by running my fingers through it. I knew from experience that brushing it would only make it turn into a poufy mess. When it was smoothed out I parted it in the middle and took two sections, which I braided and pulled back, securing it with a ponytail holder. I let the rest of my hair hang down past my shoulders. I added some gloss to my lips and some more mascara before touching up the foundation around my eye. When that was done, I stripped out of my clothes and cut the tags off of the outfit Trace had bought me. The corset was black with varying shades of pink roses. The leaves on the flowers were an aqua blue that matched the shoes. I knew I was going to have to forgo a bra so I really hoped my boobs didn’t fall out. That would be mortifying. I put the corset on, zipping it closed in the front, and slipping on the skirt. The corset ended above my belly button and since the skirt didn’t come up that far I was left showing more skin than I was used to. I assessed my appearance in the mirror, my belly button ring shimmering in the light. I chewed nervously on my bottom lip.

“A bathing suit shows more skin, Olivia. Calm down,” I told myself, fisting my hands at my sides. “Are you talking to yourself?” Trace asked as he opened the bathroom door and stepped into the room. Steam billowed out behind him and his dark hair was damp. “No,” I said a bit too quickly, causing him to smile. “Okay, yes,” I admitted. “But only because this is a bit … revealing,” I frowned at my reflection. “I don’t want people gawking at me.” I had thought I’d get a dress that covered a lot more. Leave it to Trace to pick out something that left me feeling naked. He strode up behind me and wrapped his arms around my chest, resting his chin on my shoulder. “You’re beautiful, Olivia. Don’t ever doubt that. Besides, if anyone starts staring at you, I’ll take care of it. You’re mine,” he growled huskily, nibbling on my earlobe, “and I’ll make sure they know it.” He skimmed his nose along my neck and murmured, “Your boobs look really good in this.” “Trace!” I giggled his name. “What? It’s true,” his hands skimmed over my stomach and up to cup my breasts. He gave them a light squeeze and stepped back. “Hungry?” “Yeah,” I nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed to slip the heels on. “We didn’t eat any lunch.” “I think there’s an Italian restaurant not too far from here. Sound good?” He asked. “Mhmm,” my stomach growled. “I love pasta.” “It’s settled then,” he smiled, grabbing his keys and spinning them around on his finger. “Let’s go,” he held the hotel room door open for me. I wobbled unsteadily in my heels and he grasped my forearm. “Careful there,” he chuckled, releasing me when he was sure I wasn’t going to fall over. “Sorry,” my cheeks colored. “But these are really high.” “I guess I have the perfect excuse to hold you all night,” he winked, letting the door slam closed behind us and setting his large hand above my waist. “Since when has that stopped you?” “Good point,” he pushed his hair out of his eyes. He was in need of a haircut but I kind of liked his hair shaggier so I hadn’t said anything. Feeling my eyes on him, his gaze flicked down at me. “Why are you staring at me? Do I have toothpaste on my mouth or something?” He scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, stepping into the elevator. “No,” I laughed. “That’s not what it is.” “Then what is it?” His hand fell away from his mouth. “Nothing,” I shook my head, fighting a blush. “Tell me,” he coaxed in a raspy voice, pushing me against the wall of the elevator and skimming his hands up the bare expanse of my arms. My eyes fluttered closed and I swallowed thickly. “Olivia,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my cheek. “I just …” “You just what?” He prompted when I lost my voice. “I like your hair longer,” I admitted. I opened my eyes to see him smiling. “See? Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I shook my head. He chuckled, sweeping his fingers over the curves of my breasts. I shivered in response. My mouth fell open slightly and a breathy gasp escaped. “I love how,” his fingers glided back over my chest, “even after all this time, you’re still affected by everything I do to you.” I bit my lip to hold back a moan as the elevator doors opened. I opened my eyes to find a family of four standing in the lobby looking at us with disgust. Oops. Stifling a laugh, I let Trace lead me out of the elevator and to the car. “I’m really glad I didn’t have you pinned against the wall, screaming my name. I don’t think they would’ve approved,” he mused. I punched his stomach and he grunted from the impact. “What was that for?” He asked, trying to regain his breath. “What do you think it was for?” I countered. “Can’t you make things sound … not so sexual?” I squirmed. He grinned boyishly, unlocking the car and holding the door open for me. “Come on, Olivia. Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I totally and completely meant that in a sexual way.”

“You are something else,” I smoothed my skirt down and buckled the seatbelt. “If by, ‘something else’, you mean wickedly sexy and hilarious, then yeah, that sounds about right,” he chortled. I didn’t have a comment for that, so I chose to steer the conversation in a different direction. “What song have you picked out for us to sing?” He squirmed in the driver’s seat, taking an extra-long time to put his blinker on and turn. “I know you’ve picked one. Tell me,” I coaxed. “I agreed to sing. You don’t need to worry about me running away. Besides,” I pointed to the heels I was wearing, “I don’t think I could run in these if I tried.” He chuckled at that, scratching his jaw. “I—um—actually was hoping you’d sing by yourself.” My jaw dropped open and he hastened to add, “I’ll play guitar and I’ll be right beside you. It’s not like you’ll be alone.” “No,” I crossed my arms over my chest. “No way. That’s not happening. I agreed to sing with you. Not by myself. I won’t do it,” I glared out the window, fighting an internal panic attack. He knew I hated singing in front of other people and it was completely unfair for him to try to trick me like that. “Olivia,” he coaxed, “your voice is amazing. There’s nothing for you to be insecure about.” “I’m sorry,” I shook my head. “But I won’t do it. We can’t all be as self-assured as you.” He sighed deeply. “It’s not like I’m going to force you to do it, but I’d really appreciate it if you did,” his voice was soft. His tone of voice tugged at my heartstrings and made me feel bad. I could do it, couldn’t I? He’d be there. It wasn’t like I’d be alone. “I’ll think about it,” I said quietly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear me. “Thank you,” he put his hand over mine and squeezed it. “Yeah, well, I haven’t agreed yet. So don’t get too excited,” I warned. “Noted,” he laughed, turning into a parking lot. Since it was still a bit early, the restaurant wasn’t packed and we could be seated right away. “Want any wine?” Trace asked. I rolled my eyes and set my menu aside. “Do you think I want any wine?” His lips quirked. “No.” “Then why’d you ask?” I cupped my chin in my palm. He shrugged, scrutinizing the menu. “I thought if I could get you drunk, you’d be more likely to sing.” “If you got me drunk, that would result in making me more likely to throw up on you,” I warned, taking a sip of water. “You’re not going to throw up if you sing. Once you start singing, all your nerves disappear. I don’t know why you make such a big deal out of it,” he put his menu down so he could look me in the eyes. I fidgeted under his gaze. “I don’t like people staring at me.” “It’s not like they’re staring at you,” he argued. “They’re … listening to the music.” “They’re staring.” I took another sip of water to have something to do with my hands. He shook his head back and forth, chuckling under his breath. “Only ‘cause you’re hot.” I unrolled the cloth napkin, fanning it across my lap. “I told you I’d think about it. Can you drop the subject?” He chuckled, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his water glass. “I know your ‘thinking about it’ entails you coming up with ways to get out of it. Just. Do. It.” He leaned across the table, gazing at me from beneath long lashes. “Are you a Nike sponsor now?” I retorted. He laughed at that, leaning back in his chair. His tongue flicked out, moistening his pink lips. Gosh, why did he have to be so freakin’ kissable, even when he was irritating the crap out of me? “That was a good one,” he drummed his knuckles on the tables. “I can be witty,” I responded. “I must be rubbing off on you,” he winked. The waitress chose that moment to stride up to the table. “Have you decided what you’d like?” She smiled pleasantly, looking between the two of us. “I’ll have the seafood Alfredo,” I handed her the menu. “Same,” Trace handed her his menu as well. “I’ll put that in. It shouldn’t take too long. I’ll bring you some breadsticks while you’re waiting,” she

smiled and headed over to another table. “Do you like your new phone?” He asked me. “I love it, but—” I bit my lip, not wanting to continue. “But what?” He prompted with a wave of his hand. “Spit it out.” “It was expensive,” I squeaked, knowing I was in for a lecture. “Olivia,” he growled my name, rubbing his hands on his jeans, “why does it bother you so much when I buy you things?” I swallowed thickly, looking away from him. “Because I can’t do the same for you.” “Do you think that matters to me? I want to buy you things. It brings me joy to see you happy,” his green eyes seared into me. “It’s just that,” I took a deep breath, bracing myself, “Aaron used to buy my mom stuff and then hold it over her head. I know you’re not like that, Trace. I do. But that’s what I grew up with and—” “I love you, Olivia. You’re my wife, for God’s sake,” he smacked his hand against the table, causing me to jump. “When I get you something, there are no strings attached.” “I know—” “Obviously you don’t know,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. Breathing deeply to calm himself, he said, “You need to let go of that silly notion. Aaron was a bastard and he shouldn’t have been allowed to breathe,” he seethed. Not caring that other people were around, he added, “If that fucker hadn’t hung himself I would’ve killed him. No one like him deserves to live.” His hands were fisted on the table and his breathing was ragged. “I hate that he treated you and your mom the way he did. I hate that I couldn’t do anything sooner. And most of all, I hate that because of him, there’s a part of you that’s always going to be broken.” My bottom lip trembled as I fought tears. “Please, don’t cry, Olivia,” he begged. A single tear slid down my cheek and I hastily swiped it away but more replaced it. “Ah, fuck. I’m such an ass,” he muttered under his breath as he pushed his chair back. He squatted in front of me, taking my face between his large hands and forcing me to look at him. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” “But you’re right,” I sobbed. People were staring and I did my best to ignore their gazes. “No, I’m not,” he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said that.” “But you did,” my voice cracked. “And you were right,” I repeated. “You’re not broken, Olivia. I was wrong to say that. I—” “But I am,” I placed a hand over his, taking a deep breath. “You should be able to buy me things without it making me feel guilty or sending me into a panic. I need to let go of what he did, but I haven’t gotten to that point yet. What if I never get there, Trace?” “Then I’ll continue to love you just the way you are,” he swiped his thumb over my lips. “I don’t deserve you.” It was the truth. I didn’t deserve Trace. No one did. He was far too good, even though he didn’t see himself that way. His eyes closed. “Olivia, it’s me that doesn’t deserve you.” “How about we agree to disagree?” I forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Sounds good to me,” he laid his head in my lap. “Um, Trace,” I cleared my throat. “Yeah?” “People are staring at us,” I mumbled, glancing around in discomfort. Couldn’t people mind their own business? “Let them. What they think of us doesn’t matter, Olivia. This is only a blip in time, something they’ll all forget about in a few hours. You need to stop worrying so much about what people think of you,” he raised his head, looking into my eyes as he let his words soak in. “You’re right,” I whispered, my fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m always right,” his lips twitched as he fought a smile. “Now, can you please get up off the floor,” I begged. “I can do that,” he chuckled, rising slowly. Before returning to his seat, he kissed my forehead. He glanced around at the people in the restaurant who were still watching us with curious eyes. “Go on,” he waved his hand in dismissal, “continue on with your regular scheduled activities. Nothing more to see here.”

I snickered, pretending to cough into my hand to hide it. The waitress breezed by our table, setting down a tray of food. “Seafood Alfredo,” she announced. “The plates are hot so be careful,” she warned, setting them on the table. “And here’s your breadsticks,” she sat them in the middle. “I—um—brought them by earlier but I thought I’d be interrupting something.” “It’s okay,” Trace assured her. With a small smile she picked up the tray and left quickly. “I think we’ve frightened our waitress,” I informed him, swirling my pasta around. “Don’t worry,” he ripped a breadstick in half and took a huge bite of one end, “I’ll give her a big tip.” “I think she deserves one,” I laughed. “Mmm,” I hummed. “This is really good,” I pointed at my bowl of pasta. “You know,” I started, mulling over what he’d said about this being a blip in time, something everyone would forget in a matter of hours, “I think I’m going to sing … by myself,” I clarified unnecessarily. A huge smile spread slowly across his face. “Are you serious?” I nodded. “Just one though,” I held up a finger. “I might sing more than that, but don’t push your luck.” “God, I want to kiss you so bad right now,” he gritted his teeth, “but I think these people have had enough of a show for one night.” I nodded in agreement. Since we were so hungry, it didn’t take us long to finish our meal and get out of there. My knee bobbed up and down nervously on the drive to the coffee shop. Trace didn’t say anything, probably scared to push his luck. But I wasn’t going to back out now. This road trip was about recapturing our spark, and I couldn’t do that if I didn’t branch out. I hadn’t realized we’d made it to the coffee shop, but suddenly Trace was saying, “Ready?” I swallowed thickly as my heart picked up speed in my chest. I could do this. This wasn’t a big deal. All I had to do was sing. I took a shaky breath and nodded as I opened the car door. I forced my stiff body out of the car. “You’ll do great,” Trace assured me, kissing my cheek. “You have absolutely nothing to be worried about, okay?” I nodded again since my voice had temporarily fled me. “I have to grab my guitar,” he said, jogging around to the trunk. I stood rooted in my spot. I stared at my feet, willing them to move, but they were frozen. “Move,” I whispered as I glared at them. “Olivia?” Trace questioned with a raised brow. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” I took his extended hand and let him drag me inside. The coffee shop was large but not quite packed with people … at least yet. Trace found a table near the stage and plunked down. I took the seat beside him and wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt. “Breathe, Olivia,” he whispered in my ear. Oh, right, I was holding my breath. It probably wouldn’t be good if I passed out before I got on stage. I exhaled loudly, giving him a shy smile. “You’ll do great,” he assured me with a hand on my cheek. I was glad one of us thought so. “I don’t even know what to sing,” I chewed on the edge of my fingernail, looking around at the coffee shop. It was decorated like most, with warm colors and pictures of steaming hot cups of coffee. Trace grabbed my hand, pulling it away from my mouth. “Don’t do that,” he scolded. “Why don’t you sing Starry Eyed by Ellie Goulding?” I looked at him in disbelief. “How do you know that song?” “First off, I don’t live under a rock. I know who she is. Secondly, I came into the apartment one day while I was working and you were in the shower singing it,” he waved two fingers in front of my face to further drive home his point. “Okay,” I played with a piece of my hair, “I’ll sing that.” “Good,” he grinned and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “What are you going to sing?” “You’ll see,” he tipped the chair back on two legs and crossed his arms behind his head. “Ugh,” I groaned. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He countered. He smacked his hand on top of the table and stood. “I better go sign us up before all the slots fill up.” He had walked a few feet when he turned back to me. Pointing to his empty chair, he warned, “Try not to let anyone steal my seat this time. I’d like to refrain from punching someone and enjoy my evening.” “If anyone comes along I’ll keep them away with your light saber,” I joked, pointing to the keychain on his key ring that laid on top of the table. “Excellent,” he chortled, disappearing into the crowd. We’d only been there a few minutes and at least twenty more people had arrived. I kept my eye out for any potential creepers. I wanted to avoid having another situation like the one that occurred in Philadelphia. Trace returned a few minutes later with two bottles of water. “I thought you might be thirsty,” he handed me one. “Thanks,” I took it and twisted the top off. I didn’t dare ask him how long it would be until I took the stage. It would only serve to make me more nervous. I was definitely better off not knowing. There was a clock hanging on the wall beside us and my gaze flicked its way every few seconds. I needed to stop. “Hey,” Trace leaned towards me, “there’s nothing to freak out about.” “That’s easy for you to say,” I frowned. “You don’t get nervous.” “I don’t care what people think of me,” he reasoned. “Good or bad. Their opinion doesn’t matter to me. I do care what you think of me, and my family of course. But these people,” he gestured to the crowd, “they’re not important, Olivia.” I absorbed his words, letting them soak in as I repeated them silently. “Why do you always have to be right?” “I’m not always right. But I’m glad you think so. That makes my life easier,” he chuckled, fighting a smile. He took a sip of water and pointed to the stage. “My turn.” He grabbed his guitar from the case and hoped up on stage. Gripping the microphone in his hand, he smiled out at the crowd. “How are y’all doin’ tonight?” The crowd, mostly high school and college kids, hollered in response. “I’m going to sing a couple of songs for you before my lovely wife takes the stage,” he pointed at me. I blushed profusely as all eyes turned towards me. “Hi,” I squeaked, waving. “This first song is one you’ve all probably heard. It’s a big hit right now, but I’m going to slow it down,” he lowered the microphone and sat down on a plain wooden stool. “This is Wake Me Up by Avicii.” He strummed the guitar, a smile on his face, and began to sing. “‘Feeling my way through the darkness. Guided by a beating heart. I can’t tell where the journey will end. But I know where to start,’” he pointed at me. “‘They tell me I’m too young to understand. They say I’m caught up in a dream. Well life will pass me by if I don’t open up my eyes. Well that’s fine by me.’” The crowd was getting into it, swaying to the beat. Trace had some kind of magnetism that seemed to capture everyone. “‘So wake me up when it’s all over. When I’m wiser and I’m older. All this time I was finding myself and I didn’t know I was lost,’” his eyes closed as he felt the music and the lyrics. “‘So wake me up when it’s all over. When I’m wiser and I’m older. All this time I was finding myself and I didn’t know I was lost,’” he sang the chorus again. “‘I tried carrying the weight of the world but I only have two hands. Hope I get the chance to travel the world. But I don’t have any plans. Wish that I could stay forever this young. Not afraid to close my eyes. Life’s a game made for everyone and love is the prize.’” I sat riveted for the rest of the song, my mouth agape. He was so good and I wondered why he’d never pursued a career in music. When the song ended, I clapped along with everyone else, jumping enthusiastically to my feet. “I’m going to do a faster song with this next one,” he adjusted the guitar in his lap. “Feel free to dance and sing along. Look at the person next to you and make friends. Tonight is about making memories that will last a lifetime. This is Here Ya Say by Tony Lucca.” I propped my chin on my hand as I watched him in fascination. He was so amazing up there, closing his eyes with a smile on his face, and just … letting go. When he sang, he was free. I wanted to feel that freedom too, but I wasn’t sure I could let myself.

The song ended and I clapped along with everyone else, still in a trance. He cleared his throat and said, “I have one more song to sing before my wife gets up here. This is a song, that every time I hear it, I think of her.” A chorus of “awws” echoed around the coffee shop from the girls. He scooted the stool a bit closer to the microphone. “This is Mirrors by Justin Timberlake. Olivia, this one’s for you,” he looked into my eyes and began to sing. Everyone else disappeared and it was only us. “‘Aren’t you somethin’ to admire? ‘Cause your shine is somethin’ like a mirror. And I can’t help but notice you reflect in this heart of mine. If you ever feel alone and the glare makes me hard to find just know that I’m always parallel on the other side,’” his eyes closed for a moment and he bit his lip. “‘Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul I can tell you there’s no place we couldn’t go. Just put your hand on the glass. I’ll be tryin’ to pull you through. You just gotta be strong. ‘Cause I don’t wanna lose you now. I’m lookin’ right at the other half of me. The vacancy that sat in my heart is a space and now you’re home. Show me how to fight for now. And I’ll tell you, baby, it was easy comin’ back here to you once I figured it out. You were right here all along. It’s like you’re my mirror. My mirror staring back at me. I couldn’t get any bigger with anyone else beside of me. And now it’s clear as this promise that we’re making two reflections into one. ‘Cause it’s like you’re my mirror. My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me.’” He stared into my eyes for the whole song. But it wasn’t like he was just looking at me. He was seeing me and there was a big difference for those that understood it. I don’t know if he knew it would have that affect, but the love that shown in his eyes as he sang erased all my fears. When he finished the song, I didn’t hesitate to stand and stride towards him. “That was beautiful. Thank you,” I bent, placing a light kiss on his lips. I wasn’t one for public displays of affection, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Glad you enjoyed it,” he smiled. I grabbed another stool and sat down beside him. He lowered the microphone so it was at my height. “Hi,” my voice cracked as I addressed the crowd. I took a deep breath. I could do this. I might not have had the charisma on stage that Trace possessed, but I could do it. I could. In a minute. Okay, no more stalling. “I’m going to sing Starry Eyed by Ellie Goulding,” my voice shook and I prayed that it didn’t shake when I sang. The last thing I needed was to sound like a dying cow. I glanced at Trace and he smiled reassuringly, giving me a thumbs up. I closed my eyes and placed my hand around the microphone. I needed something to hold me up. “‘Oh, oh, starry eyed,’” my voice was soft and hesitant at first. “‘Hit, hit, hit, hit, hit me with lightning. Handle bars, then I let go, let go for anyone. Take me in, and throw out my heart and get a new one. Next thing we’re touching, you look at me and it’s like you hit me with lightning,’” my nerves vanished as I got into the song. “‘Oh, everybody’s starry-eyed and everybody glows. Oh, everybody’s starry-eyed. And my body goes. Whoa oh oh ah ah. Whoa oh oh ah ah. Whoa oh oh. So we burst into colors, colors and carousels. Fall head first like paper planes and playground games. Next thing, we’re touching. You look at me and it’s like you hit me with lightning.’” I grew more confident and by the time the song ended, I was grinning like a fool. I was always so scared to get up on stage and sing, but after I actually did it, I felt like I was unstoppable. It gave me a rush and nothing else could compare to it. The crowd applauded us and I said, “Thank you.” A slight blush stained my cheeks at the attention. “You were great,” Trace assured me, taking my hand and kissing my cheek. He’d already put his guitar back in the case and it was slung over his shoulder. “Thank you,” I told him. Shaking my head, I hastened to add, “Not for the compliment, but for convincing me to do that. There’s nothing else quite like it,” I explained, letting him lead me out of the shop. “And you,” I gasped, shivering as the cool night air touched my skin, “you’re so amazing, Trace. Why have you never pursued music?” He shrugged, popping the trunk open. “It’s a hobby. It’s something I enjoy doing, but not something I want to make a living at.” “But cars—” “Cars are my passion,” he finished for me. He rubbed the finish on the Camaro affectionately. “Fixing something that’s broken and making it beautiful again … it’s amazing. When my dad and I fixed this together … it was one of the best times of my life. Watching this piece of junk get a new life, seeing it

shine again, brought me joy.” I turned away from him, chewing on the edge of my fingernail to hold back a lecture. His eyes had lit up when he was talking about cars. That was where his passion lay. I knew he still felt like it was his responsibility to take over his family’s company, but don’t we owe it to ourselves to be happy? Isn’t that more important than the feeling of duty? I didn’t want to argue so I opened the car door and slipped inside. I would bring it up again, eventually, because I loved him and I wouldn’t sit back and let him be miserable for the rest of his life.

It was well into the afternoon by the time we started on the road. We’d lounged around in bed for most of the morning and eaten a late breakfast before packing our bags. I smiled fondly as we drove through the town one last time. This would always be the place where we got married, and therefore, it would always hold a special place in my heart. “What are you smiling about?” Trace’s gaze flicked my way as he pushed his aviator sunglasses further up his nose. My smile widened further. “I was thinking about how this will always be the place where we got married.” “We’ll have to come back … if you’d like that,” he suggested. “I would,” I nodded, pulling the bottom of my tank top down. We were fairly close to the town where I had grown up but I didn’t feel bothered by that. My life had been far from perfect, and anyone looking from the outside in had been oblivious to what was happening behind closed doors, but it had still been my home. While I had no desire to see the house I’d lived in, it didn’t bother me being here. It was … nice … and I knew that this wasn’t my home anymore. I’d been in Virginia for so long, that sometimes it felt like I had always been from there. Trace turned down a street and I looked from side to side. “Uh—this doesn’t look like the way to the highway.” I hated to sound like a nagging wife, but I didn’t want to spend an hour getting lost either. “I know,” he answered simply. “Where are we going then?” I looked at the houses surrounding on us each side. “Are we buying a house or something?” “No,” he chuckled, scratching his stubbled jaw. “Trace,” I groaned, “what’s going on?” I hated being kept in the dark, but Trace was always trying to surprise me. “I’m not telling,” he mimed zipping his lips. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as we passed even more houses. I racked my brain, trying to figure out what he was up to, but I kept coming up empty. He parked in front of a cute cape cod style home. The siding was gray and the shutters were painted a dark green. The front door was wood with two lights beside it. Flowers and bushes lined the walkway. It was a comforting friendly-looking home. “Why are we stopping here?” I asked, still staring at the home. “You’ll see,” he climbed out of the car. I pushed the door open and stood staring at the house. “Are you coming?” He asked as he started up the walkway. “Yeah,” I shook my head. “So, who lives here?”

“You’ll see,” he reached behind him for my hand. I reluctantly let him lead me to the front door. He pushed the doorbell and we waited. After a minute, I said, “No one’s home,” and tried to walk away. He tightened his hold on me. “Nuh-uh, stay here.” I opened my mouth to protest but the door was opening. The man pushed the storm door open, glaring at Trace, and then his gaze flicked to me. Those eyes. That nose. That face. I was staring at Derek Wynn, the man who was my real father, and the one my mother had told me was dead. “Dad?” I gasped and everything went black.

My head was pounding and I couldn’t seem to get my eyelids to open. I heard murmuring in the background but couldn’t make out what the voices were saying. A warm hand pressed against my face. “Olivia? Wake up,” the voice coaxed. I wanted to tell the person that I was trying, but I couldn’t open my mouth to speak. A cool cloth was spread across my forehead. The feel of it soothed me. “Olivia,” the voice started again. “Wake up. There’s someone that would like to meet you.” Oh, holy shit! The moments before I blacked out came rushing back at me. “Dad!” I exclaimed, sitting straight up. The wet cloth plopped in my lap and Trace’s tan arm snaked out to grab it. My dad squatted in front of me, laughing under his breath. “I’m not your dad, kid.” “You’re lying,” my brows furrowed together and I glared at the man. “You’re Derek Wynn. You’re my dad. My mom told me so. We look alike.” I couldn’t believe I was looking at my dad. My mom had told me he was dead, but here he was in front of me alive and well. I wondered if she’d lied to me or if— “I’m not Derek,” the man shook his head. “I’m his brother, Dexter. But call me Dex,” he held out a hand for me to shake. “So, Derek really is dead?” I squeaked, staring at his hand. After a moment, I took it. “He’s been six feet under for twenty-two years. He’s dead. Very dead. As in not coming back, dead.” Trace laughed, pointing at Dex. “I like this guy.” “So, you’re my uncle,” I stated. “Seeing as how I was your dad’s older brother, yes, that makes me your uncle,” Dex rubbed a hand over his light beard. His dark hair and beard was speckled with gray. “I-I-I-” I stuttered, looking at him. Finally, I forced my eyes to Trace. “How?” I had meant to ask him how he’d found Dexter, but I’d only managed to get the one word out. He pretended to pick dirt out from under his fingernails. “I hired a private investigator. It didn’t take them long to track down the Wynn’s. The problem was in figuring out how to get you here, without telling you.” My mouth fell agape. “This whole road trip was a ruse, wasn’t it?” I demanded. Trace had the forethought to appear sheepish. “Yeah, kind of. I was going to wait and do it later, but after what happened with Gramps,” he cleared his throat, “I needed to get away.” “I—uh—need some air,” I stood shakily with a hand against my throbbing head. I shuffled to the door and turned to find Trace behind me. “Alone,” I added in a harsh voice. Pain flashed in his green eyes, but he nodded, ducking his head. I pushed open the storm door and sat on the steps, breathing deeply in from my mouth and out from my nose. There was a harsh pain in my chest and I grasped at my heart. Panic was rising from my stomach, up through my chest, clawing to get out. I hadn’t had a panic attack in a year, but one was hitting me now. I fought desperately to regain control of my body, but I couldn’t breathe. The screen door slammed closed and Trace rushed around me, squatting in front of me. He took my

face between his hands. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe.” I tried to even out my breathing but it wasn’t working. Tears escaped the corners of my eyes and he wiped them away. “It’s okay, Olivia,” he said soothingly. “Everything is okay. All you have to do is breathe.” My gasps began to quiet and my chest didn’t heave near as much, but the panic attack hadn’t passed yet, and if I didn’t get myself completely calmed down it would start up again. “I’m so sorry, Olivia,” he brushed my hair away from my eyes. “I should’ve told you. I thought you deserved to know about them. They’re your family. I wanted you to find that part of yourself. I didn’t want you to feel like you had no one. I know how often you look at your dad’s pictures and I know how much you wish you knew him. But he’s gone, and if you can’t know him, then I was going to be damned before I kept you from your grandparent’s and uncle,” he spoke fiercely. “I really thought I was doing the right thing,” he pleaded with me to believe him. “I didn’t tell you because I know how shy you are with meeting new people and that you’d get yourself too worked up to meet them. Clearly, I was wrong,” he chuckled humorlessly, “you got upset anyway.” He quieted after that, breathing slowly with me in an effort to keep me calm. His hands soothed up and down my back. He watched me with worry in his eyes. Once, I’d woken up from one of my nightmares, and had such a bad panic attack that he had to take me to the hospital. I didn’t like scaring him like that. “I’m okay,” I said after a few minutes. My voice was hoarse, almost sounding like a smoker. “Are you sure?” He asked hesitantly. I nodded. He took my hands and helped me to stand. “Dexter probably thinks I’m so weird,” I frowned, glancing at my reflection in the glass door. I looked horrible. My hair was sticking up wildly, my skin was deathly pale, and my brown eyes were wide like a frightened rabbit. “No, he doesn’t think that,” Trace chuckled. “Of course he does,” I grumbled. “First, I called him dad and fainted. Then I ran out of the house having a panic attack. Did he—” I paused. “Did he know were coming?” “Not at all. After you passed out into my arms I explained who you were and he let me inside. I was actually surprised to see him. This is your grandparent’s house. He said your grandpa was gone to the hardware store and your grandma is working,” he put a hand on my waist and I leaned heavily against him for support. Panic attacks always left me feeling drained and exhausted. “What if they hate me?” I whispered. “What if they tell me to get out of their house?” “Silly girl,” he brushed my hair away from my forehead so he could see my eyes, “how do you not see how incredibly lovable you are?” “Lovable has nothing to do with it. I’m their illegitimate grandchild. My mom never even told them about me. Why wouldn’t she tell them? What if they’re horrible people?” I frowned, staring inside the door at the homey living room. Surely horrible people wouldn’t have such a sweet looking home? “They were grieving,” Trace reasoned, “and your mom was married to another man. I can understand why she didn’t tell them. She was scared of Aaron and she’d lost your real dad. But don’t you think they deserve to have you in their lives, as much as you deserve them? You’re both missing out on something special.” Tears pooled in his eyes and he swallowed thickly. I knew he was thinking of Gramps. I laid my hand comfortingly against his jaw. “You are one of a kind, Trace Wentworth.” “Well,” he shrugged, fighting a smile, “I’ve never seen the benefits in being normal.” I rubbed my hand against his stubbled cheek. “I love you,” I whispered. “Even when you pull stupid crap like this,” I pointed at the house, “I still love you.” He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to, and bent his head so he could press his lips against mine. Heat ignited in my belly at the feel of his lips. He lightly nipped at my bottom lip and a moan escaped me. The harsh clearing of a throat had us pulling away. “Feeling better?” Dex asked. I nodded, untangling my fingers from Trace’s shirt. How had they even got there? It was like they had a mind of their own. “Much better,” I smoothed my hands on the jean fabric of my shorts. Dex held open the storm door and nodded his head for us to go inside. Trace and I sat side by side on the old floral couch. I looked around the living room, memorizing

everything. The yellow walls, the scratched coffee table, the piano in the corner. Every single piece revealed a little bit about the family living there. “So … did you and my dad grow up here?” I asked Dex, finally venturing to speak. He leaned back in the matching floral chair. “Yeah.” “Do you live here now?” I asked. Dex laughed, his eyes crinkling. “No. I live about ten minutes from here. I’m here today helping my dad. He had this silly notion to build a bird house … and he has no tools.” “Married?” I continued the inquisition. “No,” he ran his fingers through his wavy dark hair. “Why not?” The words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them. “I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I’m not trying to be nosy. I just—” “I understand,” he smiled. “You want to get to know me. I was married, but turned out she was banging my boss as well. Real stand up lady. We have a daughter together. Here, I have a picture,” he tugged his wallet out of his back pocket and opened it up. I smiled at the girl’s picture. She appeared to be about five or six, with straight dark brown hair that reached her shoulders and bangs straight across her forehead. A dimple indented each cheek. She was absolutely adorable and she was my family … my cousin. Holy crap, I had a cousin. “She’s beautiful,” I handed his wallet back. “What’s her name?” “Ella,” he answered. “Do you see her often?” I ventured to ask, praying it wasn’t a sore spot for him. “Every weekend,” he smiled sadly. “I wish it was more. She’s such a joy. Can’t say the same for her mother though,” he laughed humorlessly. “So,” he pointed a finger to Trace and me, “you two dating?” “Married,” Trace answered. Dex narrowed his eyes at Trace’s left hand. “I don’t see a ring.” “That’s because we got married two days ago,” I supplied. “We’ll exchange rings when we get back home.” “Mhmm,” Dex hummed in disbelief, sizing Trace up. “Don’t hurt her,” he warned. It secretly pleased me that Dex was putting on a father act. I had grown up believing Aaron was my father, but he’d never been very … fatherly. I didn’t know what it was like to have a normal father/daughter relationship. Heck, my relationship with my mother had been far from normal with the constant fear she lived with. The sound of a garage door going up had me on edge. “Showtime,” Dex waggled his brows. Trace’s hand sought mine, entwining our fingers together. “It’ll be okay,” he said confidently. I held my breath, waiting for one of my grandparents to enter the room. “Dex? Where are you?” A man’s voice called out. “That little punk at the hardware store was less than helpful. Honestly, America’s youth. What are they teaching those kids in school these days? Obviously not manners,” he grumbled. “And did you see that Camaro parked out front?” He continued to rattle as the sound of plastic bags being set down met my ears. “I haven’t seen a ride that nice in forty years.” “Dad?” Dex called out. “Why don’t you come into the living room, there’s some people I’d like you to meet?” “What are they selling? Tell them I’m not interested. I might be old but I’m not stupid.” “Dad,” Dex said a little more sternly. “They’re not selling anything.” “Then why’d you let them in? Are they holding a gun to your head or something, son? Where’s my shotgun?” He muttered and I heard his feet shuffling against a tile floor. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. “Dad, just get in here,” Dex rolled his eyes and mouthed, ‘old people.’ “Alright, alright, I’m coming. You don’t need to be so demanding. What happened to treating your elders with respect? I did give you life, don’t forget that.” An older man with a slightly stooped back and white hair appeared in the doorway. His face was heavily lined but there was a light in his eyes that made him seem much younger. The breath left my lungs in a gust as his eyes met mine. This man … he was my grandpa.

He studied me with a look of puzzlement. “Dexter, you have a kid I don’t know about? Or am I getting senile and Ella’s older than I remember?” “Dad,” Dex stood, putting an arm around the older man. “This is Olivia. She’s Derek’s daughter.” The man—my grandpa, I corrected myself—crumpled to the ground sobbing. My mouth fell open and I looked up at Trace hoping he would tell me what to do, but he was as stunned as I was. “Dad?” Dex knelt on the floor in front of him. “Dad, are you okay?” He continued to sob and his tear filled eyes met mine. Reflected in his orbs was delight and wonder. “I never—” He shook his head. “I can’t believe this.” Dex helped him to his feet and I stood, hesitantly making my way to him. He looked me up and down in disbelief. “You … you’re beautiful … and you look so much like your dad. I can’t believe you’re real. I thought after he died—” He choked, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his face free of tears. “Can I hug you?” I didn’t answer him. Instead, I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face against his robust chest. “Olivia,” he said my name softly, like he was testing the sound of it, and patted my head like one would a small child. I pulled away and my eyes roamed over his face. He had thick brows and a strong jaw. He was handsome, and I’m sure back in the day he’d broken many hearts. I found that my cheeks were stained with tears and I hadn’t even realized I was crying. I wiped them away, laughing slightly in embarrassment. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I don’t know yours.” “Douglas,” he smiled. “But you can call me Dougie.” “Can I—” I stopped myself, scared to ask, but finally I forced the words out. “Can I call you grandpa?” He started crying again. “I would love for you to call me grandpa,” he wrapped his arms around me in another bear hug. “In fact, I’d be honored.” He took my hand and led me back to the couch. I ended up sandwiched between my grandpa and Trace as Dex plopped in the chair once more. “I’m Trace,” he held out his hand to my grandpa. “Olivia’s husband.” My grandpa let his hand drop. “Husband? You’re married?” He asked me. When I nodded, he said, “You don’t look older than twenty.” “Twenty-two,” I blushed. “You’re a tiny thing,” he chuckled. “Stay around here long and your grandma will have you fattened up,” he patted his round stomach. “She’s an excellent cook.” I knew there were a thousand and one questions I should have been asking him, but at the moment all I could do was sit and stare at my grandpa in awe. “Your grandma should be here any minute,” he glanced at his watch. “She always comes home for a late lunch before going back to the shop.” My heart skipped a beat in excitement. In a matter of minutes, I had gained an uncle, cousin, and grandparents. I had been content to carry on my life never knowing them, figuring they wanted nothing to do with me. In all honesty, it was unfair for me to have believed that. After all, my mom had confessed to me that she’d never told them about me. “I’ll call her and see where she is,” he patted my knee. “And then you can ask us any questions you want to know and we can get to know you better.” He heaved himself up from the couch and shuffled out of the room. “Well,” Dex smacked his hands against the arms of the chair, “my day got a whole lot more exciting. This is like one of those bad soap operas that’s always on TV.” I giggled at his words. How often in the last two years had I compared my life to a soap opera? A lot, that’s for sure. “You don’t even know the half of it,” I told him. Douglas came back into the room a few minutes later. “Maggie should be here in a few minutes. She’s going to be beside herself,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe you’re Derek’s daughter. He’s been gone for twenty-two years. When someone’s been dead for that long it gets kind of difficult to remember that they were ever even alive.” “That’s just because you’re old, dad,” Dex chimed. Douglas eyed his son. “Even after all these years you’re still a smart mouth.”

“It keeps life interesting,” Dex winked. “To be honest,” he laughed, scratching his beard, “when I opened the door, I thought you were my kid or something and that I’d knocked some girl up back in the day. Then you called me ‘dad’ and I thought, ‘Holy shit! She really is your kid, Dex!’” “Sorry,” I giggled. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” “Nah,” he waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m just happy to know that good ole’ Derek didn’t die a virgin. He was always a goody two shoes. He was their favorite,” he whispered conspiratorially, pointing at his dad. “They think I didn’t know, but it was obvious.” “That’s not true,” Douglas’ face grew red. “We loved you both equally. Derek never caused all the trouble you did though. If I could get back all the hours I lost bailing your sorry as out of jail, I’d be a young man again.” “You’re exaggerating,” Dex chuckled with a roll of his eyes. “Twelve times. Does that sound like an exaggeration?” Douglas countered. I smiled at their familiar banter. “Okay, so I was a bad kid,” Dex shrugged. “At least I’ll have some kick ass stories to tell my grandkids one day.” “I’m home!” A female voice called out. I hadn’t heard the garage door open since I’d been so caught up in listening to my grandpa and Dex bicker. I held my breath, bracing myself to meet my grandma for the first time. Heels clacked against the floor and when they stopped I slowly brought my eyes up. My mouth fell open and I’m pretty sure I choked on my saliva. Why? Because, I was looking at Margaret, the lady that owned the store with the origami stars. My eyes widened further as I recalled her mentioning a son that had died. Margaret looked between Trace and I with a bewildered expression. “What are you doing here?” “You know each other?” Douglas looked from Trace and I to his wife. “I don’t know them, but they came into the shop yesterday.” Trace began to whistle the tune to ‘It’s A Small World” under his breath. I smacked my fist against his thigh to get him to stop. “What’s going on?” Margaret asked. I couldn’t seem to get my voice to work. I sat frozen, staring at her like a weirdo. I hadn’t noticed yesterday, simply because I hadn’t known to look, but we had the same slender nose that was upturned on the end. The same heart shaped lips and slightly rounded cheeks. “Mom, meet Olivia,” Dex swept his hand from Margaret to me, “your granddaughter. Oh, and she’s Derek’s daughter, not mine, FYI.” Margaret’s mouth fell open and she looked at me with shock. For a moment, she didn’t move, then suddenly she was in front of me sobbing hysterically. Gosh, I was making everyone cry today. “You? You’re? Oh my God!” She pulled me off the couch into a hug, swaying us back and forth. My arms wrapped around her, holding her close, and inhaling her scent of lavender and juniper. She patted my cheeks, tears streaming down her face. “Derek’s daughter? I-I-I didn’t know.” I didn’t know what to say, so I chose to say nothing. “You’re so beautiful,” she fingered one of my curls. “You look so much like him.” She shook her head, gazing at me in disbelief. “I can’t believe this.” “Me neither,” I admitted. “How did you find us?” She asked as we scooted around to make room for her on the couch. Trace cleared his throat and her gaze flicked his way. Rubbing my back, he said, “I hired a private investigator. I wanted Olivia to know her family.” “Well, thank you,” Margaret wiped her face with the backs of her hands. “This is very forward of me, but can I ask who your mother is?” “Her name is Nora. If you knew her, you would’ve known her as Nora Owens.” My eyes flicked away from hers guiltily. If they knew who my mom was, then they would know that she was married to Aaron when she got pregnant. “I remember her,” Margaret smiled and my stomach plummeted. “She was very sweet but she always seemed so sad. She was married, wasn’t she?” I nodded reluctantly. “Aaron, I believe his name was?”

I nodded again and Trace squeezed my hand in reassurance. “Derek told me about him. He said he wasn’t …” She paused, unsure if she should continue. “He was a bad man. I know,” I sighed. “Is your mom still married to him?” “No,” I answered. “Good for her,” Margaret smiled. I swallowed thickly, debating on whether or not to tell them what had really happened to Aaron. In the end, though, I decided against it. They didn’t need to know what I went through. I wanted them to look at me, and see me, not the girl who was traumatized by the abusive father figure who’d tried to kill her. “Are you hungry?” Margaret asked us. Before we could answer, she went on to say, “I’m starving. Why don’t I make us all a nice lunch and we can catch up some more?” “Sounds good,” I smiled. “Would you like to help me?” She asked with a wide smile as she stood. “Of course,” I pushed myself up off the couch to help her. Before I left the living room, I turned to look over my shoulder at Trace, fearing he might be mad that I was leaving him alone. But he was already carrying on a conversation with my grandpa, completely at ease. The kitchen was bright and cheery with cabinets painted a pale green and a white tile countertop. It needed some updating, but it was cute and well maintained. “I thought we’d make some sandwiches, nothing fancy,” she opened the refrigerator, laying different items on the countertop. “Bread is over there,” she pointed to a pantry. I opened the doors and located the loaf of bread. Margaret was already getting out plates so I undid the twist-tie and counted out the right amount of slices. “Are you in college?” She asked, trying to make small talk. “I recently graduated,” I replied, taking the mayonnaise jar from her and untwisting the lid since she was struggling. “Good for you,” she smiled, clapping her hands together in excitement. “What’s your degree in?” “English,” I supplied. “I’m going to be a teacher.” “That’s really wonderful!” “Really?” I questioned. She frowned. “You don’t think so?” “No, it’s not that. I’m excited to be a teacher. Some people tend to be really negative about it though.” “People … like?” She probed. “Just people in general,” I shrugged. “My mom’s supportive and so is Trace but …” “But what?” She asked, spreading the mayonnaise on the bread. “It’s nothing.” I opened the baggie full of deli meat and started pulling out slices of turkey. “You can tell me, Olivia. I know you don’t know me that well. But I’m a good listener and I am your grandma,” she smiled kindly. “Well, I once told Trace that I wanted to write a book. He’s afraid that if I start teaching I’ll never do it.” “Is he right?” She began laying slices of cheese on the bread. “Probably,” I admitted. “If you want to write one, why don’t you?” “I don’t know what I’d even write about,” I groaned. “Why do you have to have a story mapped out? Why can’t you sit down and just … do it?” Trace had said basically the same thing the first time I’d ever mentioned writing a book. He’d brought it up several times over the years, especially in the months before I graduated. I think he was as concerned about me being stuck doing a job I hated, as I was about him. She looked at me, waiting for me to respond. “I don’t think I could do that,” I finally said. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?” She had me there. “Maybe one day,” I shrugged as she put the food items away. I helped her set the plates on the table and she grabbed five water bottles.

“Lunch is ready!” She called and the three men joined us. Trace took the seat across from me, letting my grandma and grandpa sit beside me. “After we eat, Trace, is going to drive me around in that Camaro,” my grandpa announced proudly. “That’s a nice car.” Trace chuckled. “I’m glad you approve, sir.” “Dougie. Not sir. Sir sounds like … well, I better not say what it reminds me of,” my grandpa chortled. My cheeks flamed and Trace snorted, turning it into a cough to cover himself. “What do you do for a living, Trace?” My grandma asked. “I’m currently working as a mechanic, but my grandpa is grooming me to take over the family business,” he replied. “And what exactly is your family’s business?” Oh, God. This was getting embarrassing. These people may have been my grandparents, but they didn’t know me, and they were already giving my boyfriend the third degree. Husband! Not boyfriend! Hopefully, in a few days, I’d be used to the fact that Trace was now my husband. It still seemed surreal. We’d gotten engaged and then married so quickly that none of it had quite sunk in yet … maybe it never would. “We make ammunition,” he answered. “Ammunition,” my grandpa mused. “You hunt?” “Some. Not as much as I used to,” Trace shrugged. “I like you,” my grandpa announced, enthusiastically pointing a finger at Trace. Turning to me, he added, “You did good.” I smiled over at Trace, my body flooding with warmth. “I think so too.” “So,” Margaret started, “I remember you saying yesterday that you weren’t from here. But you grew up here, right?” “Yeah,” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, “I lived close to here. When it came time to go to college I … I needed to get away.” “Where are you living now?” “Virginia,” I answered. “That far away?” Her eyes widened. I frowned. “Yes.” Her lower lip trembled with the threat of tears. “You mean, I’ve only just met you and I’m going to have to say goodbye so soon?” I nodded sadly. “Please say you’ll stay with us for a few days. We have a spare room ready for guests and I’d love to get to know you better before you leave,” she pleaded with me. I looked across at Trace and he nodded. “We can do that,” I answered. “You know,” I ventured hesitantly, “when we get back home, we’re going to have a wedding ceremony, since we didn’t have a real one here. Our moms want to see us … you know … actually get married. You should come.” Margaret looked at Douglas and they seemed to communicate silently, a lot like how Trace and I did. “We’ll try to make it, sweetie,” she assured me. “But we can’t make any promises. It’s a long way.” “I understand completely. No pressure.” “We want to,” she added. “We definitely want to. But Doug isn’t in the best shape for traveling by car and we can’t afford plane tickets—” “Say no more,” Trace interrupted. “I’ll get the tickets. One for you too Dex and your daughter, if that’s okay.” “I’m sure I can get out of work for a few days,” Dex shrugged. “Ella will be dying to meet you once I tell her,” he told me. “She’ll think you’re her sister.” “I would love to meet her. I’ve always wanted a little sister,” I confessed. I smiled at Dex, and then smiled at each of my grandparents. I had only met them today, but already the overwhelming sense of family was impossible to ignore. I felt … loved. But most importantly, I felt like I belonged.

“I closed the shop so we’d have all day together,” Margaret announced when I stepped into the kitchen. “Thank you, grandma,” I smiled widely, excited at the prospect of getting to know her and my grandpa even more today. She burst into tears, sobbing, “You called me grandma! Doug! Doug! Did you hear that? Olivia called me grandma!” My eyes widened and I backed into Trace’s chest. His hands snaked out to grab me and keep me from falling. I hadn’t expected me calling her grandma to cause such a reaction. If I’d known, I probably wouldn’t have said it. “Um …” I paused, unsure of what to say. Did I apologize? Or hug her? Or run the other way? Running seemed like a good option at this point. “I’m sorry,” she fanned her face. “I didn’t expect you to call me grandma.” “I don’t have to,” I mumbled, growing red in the face from embarrassment. She scurried across the room and stopped in front of me, taking my hands in hers. “No, I want you to.” “O-o-kay,” I stuttered. “Maggie, stop scaring the poor girl,” Doug chuckled, coming into the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee. “I haven’t been this emotional in a long time,” she explained, ripping off a paper towel and using it to dry her tears. “It’s understandable,” Trace gently nudged me in the back so I’d stop standing in the doorway. I willed my legs to move, since they were currently frozen, and took a seat at the oak kitchen table. Margaret had made a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and buttered toast. Maybe I was crazy, but I thought they were the best scrambled eggs I’d ever had because my grandma had made them. My grandma. I had a grandma. And a grandpa. An uncle. Even a cousin. I had a family. Being close to my mom and Trace’s family, I hadn’t known I was missing out on anything, but I had been. So many people took their family for granted, not realizing how lucky they were. I had finished eating my breakfast when my cellphone began ringing. I smiled bashfully and pushed away from the table. “I better take this. I’m sure it’s my mom.”

“No problem,” my grandma said as she gathered up the dirty dishes. I unlocked door and stepped onto the front porch, sitting down on the steps before pulling out my phone. I frowned at the caller ID. It wasn’t my mom, like I had expected. Instead, it was Avery. “Hello?” I answered hesitantly. “You bitch!” She shrieked venomously into the phone. I startled at her tone. “What do you mean? What did I do?” I hesitantly brought the phone back to my ear, in case she had another outburst. “You got married, that’s what! How could you get married without me, Olivia?” Her voice softened and I could tell that she was genuinely hurt. “It sorta just happened,” I explained, squinting up at the blue sky and fluffy white clouds. She snorted. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me and I had to find out from Trace’s mom this morning. She called me asking for my dress size. I, of course, said, ‘Why the fuck are you asking me for my dress size?’ She told me that y’all got married and are having a ceremony when you get back. She assumed I knew and that you’d asked me to be your maid of honor. All I can say is, after being so rudely left out the first time, I better be your fucking maid of honor.” I pushed my hair out of my eyes, fighting laughter. “Of course I want you to be my maid of honor. And I’m sorry I didn’t call to tell you. I haven’t even told my mom,” I whispered the last part like it was still some kind of secret. “She’s going to be pissed,” Avery stated in a matter of fact tone. “You better call her before Traceypoo’s mom beats you to it. “ “Ugh,” I groaned, “I’ll call her when I hang up from you.” I chewed on my fingernail, already dreading that conversation. “So,” Avery’s tone brightened, “I think, that as your maid of honor, you shouldn’t subject me to one of those hideous fluffy gowns that look like they’re the color of puke. I mean, I know it’s your wedding day … or whatever, but why should I have to look ugly?” I laughed. “Avery, I would never make you wear an ugly dress. Besides, you’d probably slit my throat if I tried.” “You know it,” she said. “As your maid of honor, it’s also my duty to give you a kick ass bachelorette party. We need male strippers and—” “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I stopped her. “No way. No party. And definitely no strippers. After all, I’m already married.” “God, do you have to be such a fun sucker!” “Someone has to keep your crazy ideas reigned in,” I commented. “They’re not crazy,” she whined. “Don’t even think about it,” I warned. “We’ll see,” she sing-songed and hung up. I looked down at the phone screen and shook my head. Avery was a out of her mind if she thought I was going to let her drag me to a bachelorette party—a lonely one at that, seeing as how she was my only friend—then she was going to see a side of me she hadn’t seen before. I brought up my contacts and pressed the button to call my mom. I felt nauseous at the thought of telling her. “Hello?” She answered. “Hey mom,” I stood, pacing the walkway. A light breeze ruffled my hair. “What happened the other day? It was really weird. And why are you calling me from a different number?” “Um, well, you see,” I bent down and picked a dandelion out of the yard and twirled the stem between my finger, “I kinda dropped my phone in a glass of water.” “Honestly, Olivia,” she laughed, “I don’t know how this stuff happens to you.” “Me either,” I mumbled. Deciding that stalling wouldn’t help me, I said, “I have so much to tell you.” “Really? What have you guys been up to?” Oh crap. This was it. I had to tell her. I thought I might be sick. “We got married,” the words tumbled from my mouth and I slapped a hand over my lips. Silence. Then …? Was she laughing?

“Mom?” “Oh my God, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard! Married?! I know you’d never get married without me there—” “Well, we did.” “You’re being serious?” She quickly sobered. “As serious as the marriage certificate in Trace’s duffel bag,” I mumbled. She started crying and I toed the ground uncomfortably. I didn’t know what to say to make this better. “Mom—” “I can’t believe you guys would do this to me! To his mom! His grandparents! It’s selfish, Olivia!” “It’s what we wanted. We’ve already decided to have a ceremony when we get back. We haven’t exchanged rings yet. It will still be a wedding, mom,” I hastened to explain, hoping to make her feel better. “It’s not the same,” she sniffled. “Yes, it is, mom,” I pinched the bridge of my nose. I could feel a headache coming on. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m upset but I’m not that upset. I’ll be okay. I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she rambled. “It’s okay, mom,” I sighed. “I understand.” She continued to sniffle and I added, “There’s something else I need to tell you.” “I don’t know if I can handle anymore,” she forced a laugh. “It’s nothing bad, I promise,” I sat back down on the porch steps. “Okay,” she said hesitantly, not believing me. I traced my finger on the skin of my legs, creating random shapes. “Trace found my grandparents.” “What?” She gasped. “Yeah. We stayed with them last night. I’m still in shock.” “Are they being nice to you? They’re not angry are they?” She rambled nervously. “They’re wonderful, mom. I met my uncle too, Derek’s older brother. He’s funny, and I have a cousin too. Her name is Ella. I haven’t met her yet, though.” “Wow,” she breathed. “I know,” I propped my elbow on my leg and let my head drop forward into my hand. “Are you enjoying yourself?” She asked. “I am,” I breathed. “They’re wonderful people and if it wasn’t for Trace I wouldn’t have met them.” “I-I-better go,” she stuttered. “Okay. I love you, mom.” “Bye, Liv,” the line disconnected. I was a bit hurt by her abrupt departure from our conversation but I knew she was probably getting emotional over Derek. Even though she had moved on with her life, I knew a part of her would always love Derek and wonder what could have been. I tucked my phone back into my pocket and opened the storm door. It creaked closed behind me. “Is everything alright?” Trace asked as he sauntered into the living room from the kitchen. “You were out there for a while.” “Avery called,” I explained, “fussing about how I didn’t tell her we got married and she had to find out from your mom. I think she was more upset that she thought I might not want her to be my maid of honor.” He chuckled, shoving his hands into the pockets of jeans. “I bet that was an interesting conversation.” “It was,” I nodded. “And then I called my mom, to tell her before someone else did.” “How did she take it?” He asked hesitantly, looking at me beneath his long lashes. “She was mad at first, but I calmed her down. Then I told her that we were here,” I sighed. “I think she’s happy that I’ve gotten to meet them, but she doesn’t really like to talk about Derek. I know she’s moved on with Nick and she’s happy, but I think there’s a part of her that will always miss Derek and wonder what her life would have been like if he had lived.” “That’s understandable,” Trace shrugged. “I’m going to take your grandpa out in the Camaro.” I laughed. “Is he still bugging you?” “He’s not bothering me, and I can understand why he loves it so much. I mean, it is a ‘69 Camaro.” “You and your cars,” I smiled as my grandpa stepped into the room. “You ready?” Trace asked him.

“I’ve been ready since yesterday,” he shuffled to the door and outside. “I take it that’s my cue to leave,” Trace chuckled. He kissed me quickly before hurrying after my grandpa. I found my grandma in the kitchen and helped her finish washing the dishes. When that was done, she turned to me with a smile. “Would you like to help me make more stars? I need some more for the store.” “I’d love to,” I replied giddily. She squeezed my arm lightly as she passed me on her way out of the room. There was a small loveseat with a coffee table in front of it in her attic workspace and that’s where we ended up sitting. She had to show me how to make the stars again and after a few tries mine looked almost as good as hers. “This is relaxing,” I said after we’d been silent a few minutes. “It is. Your grandpa doesn’t quite understand why I love it so much,” she shrugged, dropping a completed star into a jar. She grabbed a pen, writing a message on the piece of paper before turning it into a star. I read what she wrote over her shoulder, ‘“Leap and the net will appear—Zen Saying.’” “You can write something too,” she smiled at me. “Whatever you want. It can be a quote from someone else or something you come up with. Anything, really.” I thought for a moment and took the pen. Regret nothing. I scrawled on the piece of paper. I laid the pen aside and made my star. “Why did Der—” I stopped and corrected myself, “Why did my dad want to be a doctor?” “Oh,” Margaret’s eyes filled with warmth, “he loved helping people. He was the kind of person that wanted to save everyone.” “I—uh—” I bit my lip, afraid I might be stepping over a boundary. “I would like to get flowers and visit his gravesite.” Her eyes filled with tears and she patted my hand. “That would be wonderful. I know,” she took a deep breath, “that Derek is in heaven smiling down on you. He’d be so proud to have a daughter like you.” “You think?” “I know so,” she looked away, finishing the star she was making. “I don’t like going there … to the grave. But I’ll give you directions and you can go there on your own or with Trace.” “Thank you,” I whispered. “Hang on,” she stood, going to the same bookcase where she’d gotten the jar full of origami stars. She heaved a heavy looking book off the shelf and dropped it on the coffee table. “It’s a photo album,” she explained. “Oh,” my eyes widened. I reached out and stroked my fingers along the black leather cover. Margaret sat back down and opened it up. “That’s Derek as a baby,” she pointed to a picture of a cute baby with dark hair and chubby cheeks. “Wasn’t he precious?” “Adorable,” I agreed. “There we all are,” she pointed to another picture. In it, she was holding a baby Derek with a hand on Dex’s shoulder to keep him from running away, and Doug had his arm around her shoulder. They stood in front of this house, smiling proudly. “That was the day we moved into this house,” she smiled wistfully. “You all look so happy,” I commented, studying the picture. “We were. I’m not saying we didn’t have our moments and boys will be boys, but we were always so happy. We still are … but even this many years later we still feel Derek’s absence like it was yesterday.” She gazed at the photo sadly and turned the page. “Oh look, here’s Derek in his first grade spelling bee. He won,” she chuckled. I grinned at the photo of my father as a small boy. He smiled triumphantly at the camera as a teacher put a medal around his neck. Hours passed as we went through even more photo albums. When my grandpa and Trace arrived back home, they joined us in the attic. My grandpa chimed in with even more stories and details of my father as a young boy. It was only bits and pieces, but I felt like I was getting to know my father a little bit better. I would never have the chance to meet him in person, as much as I might hope and wish for that impossibility, but it was nice to hear more about him.

I didn’t know it would be this difficult to say goodbye to people I’d just met. But they were my family and that bond was impossible to ignore. “I’m going to miss you so much,” Margaret held me close, nearly suffocating me, but I didn’t care. After all, I held her as tightly as she held me. “I’m going to miss you too,” I replied honestly. “But you guys are going to fly out for the ceremony, right?” She smiled down at me, patting my cheek. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I hugged her again, feeling like a small child. I didn’t want to let go, because a part of me was convinced that if I did I’d never see her again. Finally, I had to release her and hug my grandpa and Dex. “We’ll see you soon, kid,” Dex ruffled my hair. I smoothed my fingers over the top of my head to fix my hair. “Bye,” I frowned, backing away. My eyes flickered over their faces, trying to memorize every detail. “Bye,” they waved. Fighting tears, I forced myself to turn around and get in the car. “Are you okay?” Trace asked. “We can stay longer if you want.” “Two days was enough,” I forced a smile. “I know we still have to get to Maine. Maybe we can stop by on our way back?” I asked hesitantly. “We can do that,” he assured me, taking my hand. A few minutes later he stopped in front of a flower shop. “Would you like to pick them out?” He asked. At first, I wanted to say no. But if I was visiting my dad’s grave, then I should be the one to pick out flowers, not Trace. I nodded slowly and slipped from the car. He followed me inside, not saying anything, but his presence alone kept me calm. I picked out an arrangement of all white roses and lilies. It was simple and beautiful. I didn’t know what Derek would have liked, but I hoped wherever he was that he was happy with what I had chosen. We paid for the flowers, and using the directions Margaret had given him we drove to the cemetery. He parked the car and looked over at me. I bowed my head, staring at the flowers. I knew I needed to get out of the car and face this, but I didn’t want to. Seeing his grave would make it even more real. I knew he was dead, but that didn’t mean I wanted to believe it. “Olivia,” Trace said my name softly, like I was a small frightened rabbit that might run away at any moment. “I need a minute,” I whispered, taking deep breaths. I could do this. “Do you want to go alone? I don’t have to go with you. I’ll stay here.” I looked up then and shook my head. “No, I want you there with me. I … I can’t do this alone.” “Okay,” he smiled and sat patiently waiting for me to get out of the car. I watched the clock in the car, counting as five minutes passed. I shook my head roughly and grabbed the door handle. “I’m ready,” I whispered unnecessarily. He waited for me to get out of the car before he joined me, not wanting to push me. I stood at the cemetery gates for a moment, gazing at the intricate design of vines. Trace took my hand and waited for me to give the cue that I was ready to move forward. Taking a shaky breath, I placed my hand on the gate and pushed it open. It squeaked loudly on its hinges and I flinched at the shrill sound. We made our way down the path with slow steps. The sun shined brightly in the sky, warming my skin. I felt like the sky should have been gray and

dismal to reflect my mood. I repeated Margaret’s directions in my head and veered off the path. I counted the headstones and came to stop when I got to the fifth one. DEREK ALLEN WYNN I hadn’t even known his middle name until I read it on the grave marker. How horrible was I that I hadn’t even asked what his middle name was? I sank to my knees and placed my hand against the cold stone. I was trying desperately to feel something. But I was empty. The man that lay beneath the ground I sat on was my father. But I didn’t know him. And I never would. That fact broke my heart. So many people took their family for granted, but up until a few days ago all I had was my mom. Trace’s family was great, I loved them completely and I knew they loved me too. But it wasn’t the same. Trace’s dad was dead now too, but at least he’d known him. I didn’t have that luxury. All I had was this headstone and a few pictures … the jar of origami stars too, but that wasn’t enough to ever let me get a feel for the kind of person he was. People could tell me stories about him, and I could listen, but they weren’t my memories. I would never get to hold his hand. Or have him walk me down the aisle. I’d never hear him say my name or call him dad. These were all simple things, but they were powerful moments in a person’s life. Moments I would never experience. I lowered my head, letting my hair fall forward to conceal my face, as a pain filled sob escaped my throat. Trace didn’t say anything as I cried. I think he knew I didn’t want to hear it. I placed my hand on the stone, rubbing my fingers over his name. The flowers lay forgotten at my side. I clutched my stomach in one hand as my sobs threatened to overwhelm me. I didn’t even know why I was crying. Was it possible to mourn someone you’d never met? The answer was yes. Because somehow, in this messed up world, we’re all connected. Trace let me cry until all my tears were shed then helped me up and back to the car. He turned the car on and sat there. After a moment, he looked over at me and there was pain in his eyes. “I don’t like seeing you like this,” he admitted. “I’m okay,” I tried to reassure him, but since my eyes were swollen and I barely had a voice, it didn’t do much to make him feel better. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed loudly. “Maybe it was a bad idea coming here,” he pointed to the cemetery gates. “No,” I bowed my head, “I needed this.” He reached over and cupped my cheek, turning my face towards his. “Are you sure?” He swiped his thumb over my lips. “Because this doesn’t seem very beneficial.” I rubbed my swollen eyes. “I needed to see the grave. I guess a part of me didn’t want to believe he was really gone. Silly, I know.” “No, not silly. It’s understandable,” his gaze was sad. “All the time, I want to think that what happened to my dad was a really bad nightmare. But it’s real and I’ll always have to live with his loss.” I scooted over and draped my leg over his, so that I was straddling him. I laid my head against his chest and closed my eyes, listening to the steady beating of his heart. I counted the beats, letting the rhythmic sound calm me. His arms wrapped around me and he rested his chin on top of my head. “Thank you,” I murmured. “For what?” His fingers tangled in my hair. “For this. For everything that you do for me,” I whispered “It’s not much,” he chuckled. “It is,” I pressed my lips against his forehead and his eyes closed. I slid off his lap and buckled my seatbelt. “I’m ready to go.” “You sure?” I nodded, braiding my hair and securing it with a ponytail holder. “It’s time for our honeymoon.” He chuckled, pulling out of the cemetery parking lot. “I like the sound of that.”

“You know, when you said lake house somehow I envisioned a cottage. This,” I eyed the palatial house, “is definitely not a cottage. It’s huge.” I craned my neck back, staring at the house. “It’s seven thousand square feet … a lot smaller than the mansion,” he reasoned. “Yeah, but way bigger than the one house that most people own. It’s a second home for Pete’s sake. Why does it need to be so big? I might get lost,” I frowned as he opened the garage door and pulled inside. “You’re not going to get lost.” “You don’t know that,” I argued. “I don’t have a very good sense of direction.” “There’s nothing wrong with your sense of direction,” he snorted. “Stop making excuses. I know you’re really going to love it here.” With that, he slipped from the car and I was forced to follow. Once we got on the road, it hadn’t taken us long to reach the house in Maine. Like with the mansion, the house was located off the beaten path. There didn’t appear to be any other homes anywhere near here. Just the woods. And a lake, I assumed. Why else would they call it the lake house? He grabbed our bags from the trunk and I followed him up the steps into the house. We entered a darkened mudroom and he flicked a switch, bathing the room in light. The walls were covered in paneling, but not the cheap kind, this was definitely expensive. I kicked my sneakers off and he did the same with his boots. “I’m going to take these to our room,” he shook the duffel bags, “and then I’ll give you the grand tour,” he winked. “Okay,” I smiled. He left the room and I heard his feet smacking against wooden stairs as he headed to the second level. Since I had no desire to stand in the mudroom and wait for him, I ventured further into the house. All of the rooms were dark, but it didn’t have that unlived in smell that some homes got. I figured the Wentworth’s had someone stop by periodically. I turned on a light and looked up. A bloodcurdling scream escaped my throat and I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Olivia?!” Trace called from upstairs as his feet thumped against the floor in his haste to reach me. “I’m okay!” I called out to calm him. “Then why were you screaming?” His voice grew closer as he descended the steps. He stood in front of me with a raised brow, waiting for me to reply. “Because, um, I looked up and saw that,” I pointed to the giant moose head hanging above the fireplace. “I really hope that’s fake,” I wrinkled my nose. “It is,” he chuckled. “We may hunt, but do you really think Grammy and my mom would allow us to hang a real one?” “No,” I giggled, ashamed of my reaction, but that thing was really scary looking. “I want to show you something,” he said softly, placing a hand on my waist and guiding me to the back of the family room. The whole back wall was windows and French doors opened onto a deck. He opened the doors and stepped back so I could go first. “Wow,” I gasped. The deck led straight down to a dock and there were even jet skis. But that wasn’t what left me breathless. It was the view. The forest surrounded the house, cocooning it like a blanket, but the back was open and for as far as I could see there was water. “That doesn’t look like a lake,” I breathed, placing my hands on the railing of the deck and leaning forward. “It’s not. It’s the Atlantic Ocean. We just call it the lake house, because it doesn’t really look like a beach house, so that seemed weird.” “Of course, because that makes so much sense,” I laughed. The water lapped against the muddy shore. There was some sand, but not much, mostly mud, rocks, and grass.

Birds chirped incessantly and squirrels ran around the yard. It was peaceful, as if the chaos of the outside world hadn’t touched this place. “I’m glad you brought me here.” “You are?” He chuckled, leaning his hip against the railing. “It’s not too country for a city girl like you?” He faked a deep southern drawl. “I’m hardly a city girl,” I rolled my eyes. “Besides,” I placed a hand on my hip, smiling in challenge, “I do know how to shoot a gun.” He chuckled at that. “And you learned from the best.” “Really?” I raised a brow. “Because I didn’t think he was all that good.” “Oh,” he grinned mischievously, “now you’ve done it.” I squealed as he tossed me over his shoulder and jogged down the deck steps. “Trace!” I screamed. “You’ve got to stop doing this!” “Never! It’s too much fun!” He smacked my butt. “You. Are. Ridiculous,” I spat as he jogged straight for the water. When I saw what he was about to do I pleaded with him to stop, but to no avail. He tossed me straight into the chilly ocean water and I sank below. I came up sputtering, holding my nose. “You jerkface!” I screeched. “Water went up my nose!” He chucked from the shore, the bottoms of his jeans were wet from where he’d walked into the water to throw me. He shrugged and held his hands out to his side. “You shouldn’t have questioned my teaching techniques. I assure you babe, you couldn’t have learned from anyone better. And not only am I a beast with a gun, I’m also proficient with a cross bow, as well as a plain old bow an arrow. I’m a jack of all trades.” “What are you? Katniss?” I growled, rubbing my eyes as I trudged out of the water. “Who’s Katniss?” He questioned. “You know, from The Hunger Games,” I stopped in front of him. “Surely you’ve heard of it.” “Oh, yeah.” He smiled. “But I’m a lot cooler than Katniss.” “And why is that?” Only Trace and I would argue over a fictional character. If there was an award for weirdest fight between a couple, we’d surely win. “Just look at me,” he plucked at his shirt. “I’m way hotter.” I glanced down at the muddy shore, fighting a smile. “Not as hot as Peeta.” “Peeta is a pussy, I am a man,” he pointed to his chest. “If the Hunger Games were real, I could protect you … even with my bare hands.” “Really, now?” I tilted my head. “Please, explain exactly how you would do that.” “I’d snap their neck of course. But I’d also use my hands for more important things,” he grinned. “Like what?” “Well, first,” he stepped in front of me and bent his head, “I would take your face in my hands like this …” His hands came up to cup my cheeks. “Then I would lower my head like this …” His head came closer to mine. “And then, when I knew you were sufficiently breathless, I would graze my lips lightly against yours …” And he did. A small gasp escaped my lips and I shivered. “Then, when I knew you were good and ready I’d kiss you, and it would be the best kiss of your entire life.” Before I could respond, he was kissing me. His tongue pressed against my lips and my mouth opened in response. My body curled against his and my hands pressed against his toned stomach. He didn’t seem to mind that he was getting wet. His hands left my cheeks and he grasped my waist, lifting me up so that I could wrap my legs around his waist. I clutched his stubbled cheeks between my hands and deepened the kiss. Salt from the ocean water clung to my lips, mingling with our kiss. I lightly nipped his bottom lip with my teeth and he growled low in his throat. The sound sent warmth straight to my belly. He gently lowered me down his body and kissed the end of my nose as he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. His chest heaved with labored breaths. “Woman,” he whispered, “you’ll be my undoing.” “I think I could say the same for you,” my voice was as breathless as his. “That was some kiss.” “I’m very skilled,” he murmured huskily, lowering his head to press his lips against my neck. My pulse jumped in response. He chuckled and bit the skin there. “Ow!” I jumped, grabbing my neck. “That hurt!” I smacked his solid muscular chest. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“Oh, baby,” he gazed at me with lust-filled green eyes, “the moment isn’t over. It’s only beginning.” With that, he tossed me over his shoulder once more and carried me into the house and into the bedroom. I guessed I’d get the grand tour later … and I was perfectly okay with that.

I padded into the state-of-the-art kitchen and opened the refrigerator doors. My mouth dropped open as I marveled at all the food. It was fully stocked with anything you could possibly want. “Trace!” I called. “Are you hungry?” “Um, yeah,” he called back from the laundry room, “you helped me work up quite the appetite, woman.” “I don’t know what to make,” I responded. A moment later he stepped into the kitchen with a puzzled expression. “Is the fridge not stocked? It’s supposed to be.” “Oh, it is,” I assured him. “There’s a lot to choose from.” He peered into the refrigerator and pointed to a packet of hotdogs. “I’ll grill those. Why don’t you make some mac n’ cheese?” “Sure, I can do that … do you mind telling me where everything is?” I motioned to the large kitchen. “If you leave me on my own it might take me a while.” He chuckled, striding across the room and opening a door. “Macaroni will be in here and—” he opened a cabinet and pulled out a small pot, “—here’s this. Think you can find the sink?” “You’re such an ass!” While my words weren’t very nice, I couldn’t keep the laugh from my voice. Chuckling, he said, “You know you love me. I’ll finish with the laundry and start the grill.” I stared at the industrial grade stovetop, wondering why anyone needed something so fancy in a vacation home. In fact, everything in this kitchen was a chef’s dream. Shaking my head, I grabbed the pot and filled it with hot water, placing it on the stovetop I turned the knob and the blue flames sparked to life. Trace came back a few minutes later and grabbed an apron, tying it around his body. “Man Bib?” I read the slogan printed on the apron in red letters. “Really, Trace?” I arched a brow, trying not to snicker at the ridiculous piece of fabric. “Yes, really. I thought I’d go for the less offensive one. There’s another one,” he pointed to the back of the pantry door where more aprons hung, “that says, ‘“It’s all fun and games until someone burns their wiener’ … On second thought,” he removed the apron he’d put on, “that one is much more appropriate.” Grinning, he grabbed the hotdogs, a plate and fork, and sauntered outside onto the deck. The water started boiling and I dumped the macaroni noodles into it. I realized that I had a problem in the fact that I hadn’t asked Trace where bowls were. I looked around at all the cabinets, knowing it would take a while to find them. By the time I found a large enough bowl to stir the macaroni in, it was ready. Luckily, in my search for a bowl I’d also found a strainer. I drained the water and dumped the noodles in the bowl, adding butter, the powdered cheese, and a splash of milk. It took another minute, but I found a spoon to stir it with. When it was ready, I carried the bowl outside, along with forks, and placed it on the table. Trace was already taking the hotdogs off the grill. With a smile, he set them on the table and headed inside. He returned with two plates, hotdog buns, as well as ketchup and mustard. The grill was part of an outdoor kitchen, complete with a refrigerator, which Trace grabbed two bottles of water from. “Eat up,” he smirked, pulling out a chair to sit down. “You don’t need to be so bossy,” I smiled, fixing my hotdog, and sliding the ketchup bottle over to him. “Oh,” he eyed me, “I think you like it when I get bossy.” “Puh-lease,” I rolled my eyes, scooping some macaroni onto my plate. He propped his elbows on the table, raising a dark brow as he watched me closely. “What?” I asked when he continued to stare. “Is there something on my face? My hair?” I looked down to see if I

dropped something on myself, it really wouldn’t surprise me, but there was nothing there. “No,” he murmured, “just looking at my wife.” A slow smile spread across his face and he repeated, “My wife. You have no idea how much I love the sound of that.” “I hope you still like the sound of it ten years from now,” I laughed, spearing some macaroni. For some reason, I’d always hated eating it with a spoon. “Ten. Twenty. Fifty years from now, it doesn’t matter,” he spread his arms wide. “I will always be happy to call you my wife.” “Good.” “Will you be happy to call me your husband that many years from now?” “Do you even need to ask?” I raised a brow. He chuckled, scratching his chin. “No, I guess not. How could you ever get sick of me? I’m the coolest person ever.” By the time we finished eating and cleaned up, Trace had given me very detailed reasons why he was the ‘coolest person ever,’ some of which made me blush. After everything was cleaned up, and darkness was beginning to fall, I found myself mesmerized by all the fireflies in the yard. I had never seen so many at one time before and I watched in awe as their lights blinked on and off, illuminating the sky like little fireworks. “They’re beautiful,” I breathed. “That’s one of my favorite things about this place.” Trace stood beside me, his hands in his jeans pockets. “When I’m here, it’s like I’m a part of nature. The animals aren’t scared of us and they’re free to roam around undisturbed. Do you know,” he turned to me, “one time I was standing right here,” he pointed to the spot where he stood on the deck, “and a bear walked right by, stopped and looked at me, then went on its way.” “A bear?” I squeaked, looking around in fright. “There are bears in these woods?” He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course there are bears. Those are woods, and that’s typically where they live.” “Still,” I shuddered, “I don’t want to encounter a bear.” “Live a little,” he reached for my hand, guiding me down the deck steps. “Where are we going? You’re not going to dunk me in the ocean again are you?” I tried to pry my hand from his. “No,” he chuckled. “Nothing like that.” He stopped in the middle of the yard, and surrounded by all the fireflies and the chirping of the crickets, he pulled me against him and began to sway us to the music of nature. I closed my eyes and laid my head against his chest, breathing in the moment. The salty ocean air swirled around us, and the fireflies blinked cheerily. I smiled to myself as his warmth soaked into me and I knew that I’d be enjoying many more moments like this for the rest of my life.

“And this is the guestroom,” Margaret concluded the tour of the cape cod home. She flicked a light switch and the room was bathed in light. “You’ll use the bathroom I just showed you, since this room doesn’t have one connected. I hope you like it.” “It’s great. Thank you,” I smiled, stepping into the room and looking around. The walls were painted a periwinkle color and the furniture was all white. A quilt covered the bed and I glided my fingers over the surface. “Did you make this?” I asked her, pointing at the quilt. “I did,” she smiled. “It’s beautiful.” I studied the different patterns. Some were floral, other stripes, and even circles. It shouldn’t have gone together, but somehow it worked. “I have plenty of quilts I made lying around. If you see one you want, let me know, you can have it.” “Oh, I couldn’t take one of your quilts,” I said, glancing out the window at Trace and my grandpa. Douglas was looking over the Camaro and gesturing wildly with his hands. Trace threw his head back in laughter. “I insist. I have too many anyway. Doug has threatened to burn some,” she shrugged. “Take as many as you want.” “If you’re sure,” I turned away from the window to face her. “I’m positive,” she smiled. “You know,” she shook her head, laughing lightly, “I can’t believe you’re real. This seems like a dream. I’m afraid to go to sleep because I don’t want to wake up and find you gone.” I stepped towards her and wrapped my arms around her. Her gray hair hung down her back and it was surprisingly soft. “I’m not going anywhere.” “I’m sorry,” she said when I pulled back as she wiped away more tears. “Today has been really emotional.” “It has been,” I agreed. I’d probably be crying again too if I hadn’t already cried so much. “There’s one last room to show you. If you’re interested,” she shrugged. “Of course,” I smiled. I knew I couldn’t stay here forever and that we’d be leaving in a few days. But while I was here, I wanted to get to know my family. She crooked a finger and led me back into the upstairs hallway. She opened a door at the end that had a narrow staircase leading up to the attic. “This is where my craft room is. It used to be downstairs, but it started taking over the whole house, so Doug told me I needed to move it somewhere else. I like it up here. It’s quiet. And since Doug is too lazy to climb the stairs I can get a lot done.” The stairs opened up into a spacious attic. The sides of the room were sloped but you could move freely around the middle of the room. There were lots of storage organizers and a desk with paper spread across the top.

“I guess I’ll have time to show you how to make those stars,” she laughed, bumping my shoulder lightly like we were friends. “I guess so.” “You know, they call them lucky stars,” she mused. “I need all the luck I can get,” I joked. “Come here,” she led me to the desk where there were pre-cut strips of paper. “Sit down,” she insisted, pulling out a chair. I did as she said and listened intently as she described the process of making the small paper stars. It didn’t seem too difficult, but knowing me it would be impossible. After giving me the instructions, she grabbed a strip of paper and I watched as she turned it into a star. “Now you try,” she handed me a piece of blue paper. I made the knot and began to do the folds. When I finished, I glared at the monstrosity I had created. “Mine looks nothing like a star,” I grumbled. “Try again,” she coaxed. “It’s not that difficult once you get the hang of it.” I tried again, watching her carefully as she folded her own small star. My second attempt was far better than my first, but still not perfect. “See,” she smiled, “you’ve almost got it.” Almost wasn’t good enough. Turns out, third time was the charm. “Beautiful,” Margaret clapped her hands together excitedly like I was a child that accomplished something mesmerizing. She grabbed a piece of pink paper and began making another star. “You know,” she tapped her finger against the paper, “you can write a message on the paper before you turn it into a star.” “Like what?” “Anything you want,” she shrugged, pinching the points of the star. “Usually it’s exchanged between couples,” she winked and I blushed. “I have something I’d like to give you,” she said softly, moving away from the desk and to a far corner of the room. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching for something on the top shelf of a large bookcase. She cradled a large mason jar in her hands. It was filled to the top with brightly colored origami stars. “Here,” she held it out for me to take. “I want you to have this.” “Thank you,” I smiled, gazing at all the stars as I turned the jar around in my hands. “Your father made those,” her voice grew quiet and she looked away from me as tears pooled in her eyes. “I can’t take this,” I tried to hand the jar back to her, but she refused. “No,” she shook her head hastily. “I want you to have it.” “I can’t take this,” I whispered. I wanted them, after all it was something my dad had made, and all I had to remember him by were the photos my mom gave me, but it didn’t seem right to take them. They obviously meant a lot to her. “I insist, honestly,” she forced a smile. “I have plenty. I don’t need these and you should have something of his.” I glided my finger over the metal top. “Tell me about him. Please.” Her gaze grew wistful. “He was the youngest child and he was always so … happy … and he wanted other people to be happy too. He was kind and giving. He would go without, so someone else could have. I remember one time,” she smiled sadly, “where he came home from school, starving to death, or so he said, because he’d given his lunch to a boy in his class who didn’t have one. He worried more about everyone else, than himself. He was just that kind of person.” “He sounds like a remarkable man,” I whispered. “He really was. He wasn’t like most people, and he left the world much too soon.” She laid a hand against my cheek and looked down at me, studying my face intently. “He would have loved you so much, Olivia. I want you to know that. I’m sorry you never got the chance to know him.” Both of us were crying freely now. She reached for a box of tissues, handing me one and taking one for herself. “I’m so sorry,” she dried her face. “I don’t have much time with you and here I am crying again.” “Tell me more,” I pleaded. “Did he play any sports in high school?” “Does the chess club count?” She chuckled. “Derek was always the studious one while Dexter was the

rebel. Dexter used to try to get Derek to cover for him. But poor Derek,” she shook her head, laughing lightly, “the boy couldn’t lie to save himself.” “I think I got that trait from him then,” I giggled around my tears. It hurt to hear about him since I would never have the chance to know him but I needed this. “Have you seen any pictures of him?” She asked, already spinning around her office in search of one. “Yeah. I have some that my mom gave me,” I replied. “I-I look like him.” “You do,” she stopped in the middle of the attic space. “You really do,” she whispered the last part wistfully. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice the similarities when you came into the shop the other day. I guess, since I didn’t know to look for them, you were just any other girl. I can’t believe,” she looked at the ground, fighting tears again, “I can’t believe you could have left here, and I would’ve gone on, never knowing that I had you as a granddaughter.” I stood and went to hug her. “I guess we both have Trace to thank for that.” “We definitely do,” she led me out of the room and down the narrow steps. “I have to get back to the store,” she frowned. “I know you would probably love a home cooked meal for dinner since you’ve been traveling but would you mind terribly if we ordered pizza tonight? That way we can spend more time catching up.” “That would be great,” I smiled, dropping off the jar full of stars in the guestroom before going downstairs. I hugged her again before she left. I had a feeling we would be doing a lot of hugging the next day or so. I watched her drive away and the men slowly made their way back into the house. “I couldn’t talk him into letting me drive that sweet ride out there,” my grandpa informed me when he shuffled back into the house, tossing a finger over his shoulder at Trace. “Dad,” Dex chuckled, “that’s because you’re not a very good driver.” Douglas cleared his throat as he took a seat on the couch. “He didn’t know that until you told him!” He exclaimed. “You blabbermouth!” Dexter laughed, shaking his head at his father. “You’re a mess, old man.” “Old man?” Doug scoffed. “You have almost as many gray hairs as I do!” “Don’t remind me,” Dex grumbled, grabbing a piece of his curly hair and tugging on it. “How are you?” Trace whispered in my ear as he came to my side. “I’m okay,” I assured him. He swiped beneath one of my eyes and I flinched at the tenderness still present from the bruise. “What the..?” He muttered, staring at the makeup now coating his thumb. He looked down at me and his eyes widened. He started to say something but then shut his mouth, a low growl emanating from his chest. Oh, crap. “We’ll be right back,” he said through gritted teeth, taking my hand and leading me upstairs. “Which room are we staying in?” He snapped. I startled at his tone and pointed a shaky finger at the room. He dragged me inside and closed the door. “What the hell, Olivia?” He growled, hands on his hips as he paced the length of the room. “Why didn’t you tell me about that?” He pointed at my black eye. “I knew you’d get mad,” I whispered, my eyes darting to the ground. “Fuck yes, I’m mad,” he stopped in front of me, breathing heavily. “I wondered why it didn’t bruise. Turns out it did and you were hiding it from me.” “It’s just a bruise,” I mumbled. He shoved his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick up wildly around his head. “It shouldn’t have happened,” he growled. “I should have—” “You should have what, Trace?” I interrupted his tirade. “Stop and think for a second. There was nothing you could do to prevent this,” I pointed at my eye. “It wasn’t even really that guy’s fault. I fell, so what? Lots of people fall and scratch themselves or worse. I don’t know why you feel the need to make such a big deal out of it,” my voice grew heated. “I’m going to get hurt, Trace. You can’t bubble wrap me and send me out into the world.” His lips quirked as he fought a smile. “I can try.” “Let it go,” I sighed, letting my hands fall to my sides. “I have a black eye. You can’t wave a magic wand and make it disappear, so there’s no point in getting so worked up about it.” “I’m sorry,” he took me into his arms, holding me close. His lips grazed the top of my head. “I

overreacted and I shouldn’t have.” “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” My voice was muffled against his shirt. Kissing the end of my nose, he told me, “Stay here. I’ll go get our bags and you can do what ever it is you’ve been doing to hide that,” he swirled his finger in front of my eye. “It’s called makeup, Trace,” I laughed. “Yeah, that,” he chuckled, backing out of the room. I sat on the bed as I waited for him to return. I looked around, still not quite believing that I was in my grandparent’s home. After my mom told me about my real dad, I’d never once thought about finding my grandparents. My mom had said they knew nothing of me, and since I was never one to put myself out there, it had never bothered me very much. Sure, I’d wondered about them, but I would’ve never had the guts to track them down. Leave it to Trace though. He came back into the room and sat our bags down. “I’m sure Dex and my grandpa wondered why you dragged me out of the room and upstairs,” I laughed. “They probably thought I couldn’t control my animalistic male tendencies a minute longer and brought you up here so that I could ravish you,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Trace!” I giggled. “I’m sure they were surprised when I came back down,” he continued. “With my pants on,” he added. I laughed, not having a comment for that, and grabbed my makeup bag. I headed across the hall to the bathroom and Trace followed me, leaning against the doorway. He didn’t say anything as he watched me apply the makeup to hide the bruise. When I was done, he said, “Damn, that stuff is magical. I could use that to hide some of my scars,” he held his arms out. Pointing to one, he explained, “I got this one when my dad was teaching me how to ride a bike. He didn’t teach me how to brake, so when he let me go I had no clue how to stop.” “Aw,” I frowned. “It’s okay,” he chuckled. “I was a tough kid. Although, my dad wasn’t happy when I cussed like a sailor when he dabbed my cuts with alcohol. That stuff burns.” I laughed heartily as I imagined a smaller version of Trace cussing at his dad. “Yeah, most parents wouldn’t be happy about that.” I turned the light off in the bathroom and carried my makeup bag over to the bedroom. When we made it back downstairs, Dexter and my grandpa were in the same spots we’d left them. “Weren’t you going to build a birdhouse?” I asked my grandpa when I sat down beside him. “I was,” he chuckled, “but now I have a granddaughter to get to know.” He began asking me similar questions to the ones Margaret had asked when we made sandwiches. I answered every single one with a smile and asked him questions too. I found out that my grandparents were high school sweethearts and he’d fought in the Vietnam War. Once the war was brought up, he began telling different stories from his time in the war. Trace listened intently, his mouth hanging open in wonder. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed, but suddenly Margaret was home again, carrying in three large pizzas. “I wasn’t sure what you and Trace would like,” she explained. “So, I got a bit of everything.” “Trace will eat anything,” I laughed, grabbing a plate. “Like most men,” she squeezed my arm lightly as she passed by me to grab drinking glasses from the cabinet. Dinner was much more relaxed than lunch had been. The newness of the situation had worn off and we were beginning to talk like we’d known one another forever. By the time we cleaned up from dinner and said goodbye to Dex, I was exhausted and ready for bed. I had taken a shower this morning before we left the hotel, so I didn’t bother with one now. I changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed. Margaret had been kind enough to let us use their washer and dryer so Trace had taken our dirty clothes to the laundry room, muttering that he hoped they had, “Mountain Spring fabric softener.” It was his favorite and he complained that his clothes didn’t smell right if he used anything else. He was crazy, but if it meant he washed the clothes and I didn’t have to bother with them, I’d let him have his quirks. He returned a few minutes later, stripping down to his boxers, and climbing into the bed beside me. It was a full size bed, so once he was in it I ended up sprawled on his chest.

He tucked my head under his neck and began to hum under his breath. I was beginning to drift off to sleep when he asked, “Are you mad at me?” I sat up abruptly, banging my head against the underside of his chin. “Ow!” We both exclaimed. Rubbing the sore spot on the back of my head, I replied, “Why would I be mad at you?” “Well, I did track down your biological grandparents without telling you,” he smiled sheepishly, “and planned a whole road trip around it.” Lying back down, I said, “I couldn’t be mad at you if I wanted to. I understand why you did it and I understand why you kept it a secret. I was surprised, that’s for sure. But thanks to you, I know my grandparents and my uncle now. I can’t thank you enough for that. They’re my …” “Family?” He supplied. “Yeah,” I croaked. “I didn’t know what I was missing out on until I met them.” Tears leaked from my eyes onto the bare skin of his chest. “Olivia,” he murmured my name, “please, don’t cry.” “They’re happy tears, Trace. I promise.” I reached up to wipe them away. “I guess those are okay, then,” he chuckled. “I’m so happy I have you,” I mumbled as I fought the sleepiness threatening to take over my body. “I’m the lucky one,” he whispered and it was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep.

“Mmm,” I hummed, stretching my legs and arms, but keeping my eyes closed. I didn’t want to wake up. “Wake up,” Trace coaxed and his lips skimmed over my bare stomach where my t-shirt had ridden up. “I have somewhere I want us to go.” “I don’t wanna,” I tried to roll away from him, grasping onto the pillow. “Trust me, you don’t want to miss this.” “What time is it?” I mumbled. “Early,” he chuckled, his breath skimming against my bare skin and I shivered. Slowly, I cracked open one eye and peered at the sexy man hovering above me. “How early?” “That’s not important,” he grinned. “It is,” I threw an arm over my eyes. “I want to sleep.” He swirled a finger around my belly button and my back arched off the bed as a small moan escaped my lips. “Quit it,” I warned. “Nope,” he jostled the bed as he climbed off. I rolled over, thinking I had won, and curled my body against the other pillow. But my victory was short lived. Trace threw the covers off, grabbed one of my ankles, and pulled me from the bed. I shrieked, thinking I was about to fall from the bed onto my face, but he caught me. “You jerk!” I smacked his chest and pried myself from his arms. He laughed heartily, clutching his stomach. “I know I’ve made you mad when you start calling me names.” “Yeah, well,” I smoothed my shirt down, “I want to sleep.” “And I told you that I want to show you something. We have to hurry or we’ll miss it.” “Maybe I don’t want to see it,” I grumbled, heading back to the bed. “Nuh-uh,” he grabbed my arm, halting my steps. “Get dressed and be downstairs in five minutes. I mean it,” he pointed at me sternly like a father scolding a child. “Put a bathing suit on under your clothes and be sure to wear sneakers.” “I hate you so much right now,” I stared longingly at the plush king-sized bed where I’d been dreaming so peacefully a few minutes before. “You won’t be saying that soon,” he grinned, releasing me as he backed towards the door. “Remember, five minutes,” he held up a hand, wiggling his fingers. I glared at him as he left the room. A part of me was tempted to climb in the bed and go back to sleep, but I knew Trace would only wake me up again so it was pointless. I scurried into the bathroom, brushing my hair and braiding it to the side. I brushed my teeth but

didn’t bother with any makeup since I was running short on time. I changed into my bikini. It was pale blue with a floral design and the bottoms had ruffles on the side. I’d been looking to buy a one piece but Avery had talked me into this one and I was actually happy I’d gotten it instead. I pulled shorts on over the bottoms and grabbed a plain t-shirt, figuring the morning air would be cool. Trace was starting back up the steps when I rounded the corner. “Coming to get me?” “I thought you fell asleep standing up,” he smiled, waiting for me on the second to last step. “No,” I shook my head. “You might have spanked me if I did.” “Any excuse to touch your ass,” he smirked, reaching for my butt. With a screech, I lurched away from his clawing hand. “Nice try,” I narrowed my eyes at him. “There’s always later,” he winked. “Now,” I looked around, “what was so important that I had to get up while it’s still dark?” I pointed to the window where the sky was black and stars still twinkled. “Come on now, I can’t tell you that. It would ruin the surprise.” He opened the doors that led to the deck and waved me over. “Outside?” I asked. “With the bears?” “Yes,” he rolled his eyes. “And the moose, squirrels, deer … shall I continue?” I marched forward and out the door. He jogged down the steps and waved for me to follow him. Shaking my head, and grumbling unintelligibly under my breath, I reluctantly followed him. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and turned it on. “We need a flashlight because?” I prompted. “We’re going into the woods.” He quickly grabbed my hand so that I couldn’t make a run for it. “The woods? In the dark? Are you crazy?” “No,” he stopped, looking at me seriously, “I’m a boy scout.” I stared at him a moment before laughter burst out of my throat. “You can’t be serious?!” I cried, wiping away tears. He frowned, like I had offended him. “I was a boy scout until I was twelve. I was so awesome I didn’t need to continue after that.” “Oh please,” I continued to laugh, trying to catch my breath. “You don’t believe me?” “Hardly,” I bit my lip to hold back more laughter. He puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips. “I was the best boy scout ever, I’ll have you know.” “So if a bear happens to wander by, what will you do?” “I’ll wrestle it to the ground, of course,” he flexed his arm muscles. “No bear can withstand these.” Shaking my head, I said, “Your confidence never ceases to amaze me.” He chuckled, placing a hand to his chest. “Never doubt my bear fighting abilities.” He nodded his head towards the woods, coaxing me to follow him. I was still a bit wary, but I knew Trace was bound to know these woods like the back of his hand and the chances of being eaten by a bear were minimal. There didn’t seem to be any discernable trail, and while I was an outdoorsy girl, hiking had never been my thing. Trace helped me over fallen trees and always made sure he held my hand so I didn’t fall. We’d been hiking for about fifteen minutes when I asked, “How much farther?” “A lot farther.” “How much is a lot farther?” I skidded around a stick I was convinced was actually a snake. “A lot farther,” he repeated. “You’re not going to tell me?” “Absolutely not,” he replied. Another fifteen minutes later he said, “Almost there.” The sun was beginning to rise and bits of brightness peeked through the tree branches. Trace stopped and turned to me. “Ready?” “For what?” I questioned hesitantly. Lord only knew what Trace had up his sleeve.

“To have your mind blown,” he grinned crookedly. Nodding his head, he led me further into the trees. I was looking down at the ground, so I didn’t see what was in front of me. He slammed his arm against my chest to halt my progress and I momentarily panicked, thinking there really was a bear or something. With my heart racing, I looked up and my mouth fell open. “Holy crap,” I gasped. The ground stopped suddenly, dropping straight into a small river. I didn’t know how I had missed the sound of rushing water, but it could probably be explained away by my thinking a snake, bear, moose, or other woodland creature was going to attack me. The sunrise reflected on the crystal clear water, igniting it with oranges and reds. I had honestly never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life. I wished I had a camera so I could take a picture and remember this moment exactly as it was. I didn’t want to tell Trace, but this was definitely worth getting out of bed for. He turned to me with a smirk. “Glad I woke you up?” I reluctantly nodded. There was no point in lying. He could tell from the awe on my face that I was mesmerized. “How did you know about this place?” I gasped, looking around me. “Exploring,” he shrugged, bracing a hand against a tree trunk. “Trent and I found it.” I toed the ground, kicking a rock and watching it fall into the water. I looked below and wondered aloud, “How far down do you think it is?” He shrugged. “Twenty feet maybe … but I’m not really sure.” Before my brain could process what he was doing, he tossed his shirt off and started working on the belt of his pants. I noticed he was wearing swim trunks and it began to click as to why he had told me to wear a swimsuit. “What are you doing?” I asked, hoping I was wrong. He looked at me like I was the crazy one. “Jumping.” “Jumping … as in jumping down there?” I pointed to the water below. “Yeah,” he kicked his jeans off. “Is that safe?” He chuckled. “Olivia, I’ve done this every summer for practically as long as I can remember.” “That still doesn’t make me feel better about you jumping.” “You’re jumping too,” he grinned. “What? No way,” I looked down at the water churning below. “That water looks really rough.” “I’ll hold your hand.” I swallowed, gazing at the water uneasily. “I don’t think you holding my hand is going to save me from drowning,” I gulped. “Olivia,” he took my face in his hands, forcing my stare away from the water, “it’s the things that scare us that are the most worthwhile. Like falling in love,” he rubbed his thumbs over the curves of my cheeks, “it scared the shit out of me, but it’s been the best rush I’ve ever experienced. This is a memory I want us to make together. Please.” I closed my eyes, repeating his words. When I first met Trace, I had been desperate to live, make mistakes, be wild and spontaneous. Why did that have to suddenly stop after the list was complete? I opened my eyes and smiled slowly. “I’ll do it.” “I knew you’d see things my way,” he kissed me leisurely, purposely trying to make me forget what I was about to do. He more than succeeded. I removed my shorts, lifted my shirt off, and kicked off my shoes. Before I could let myself think about it a second longer, I took his outstretched hand. “One, two, three—” He counted. With a scream, I jumped. I hit the water feet first and its cool depths surrounded me, blanketing me. Somewhere along the way I’d lost my hold on his hand. I kicked for the surface and came up gasping for air. The water wasn’t nearly as choppy as it looked from above. Trace surfaced a few feet away from me and flicked his dark hair out of his eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, his shoulders rising and falling with labored breaths. “Great,” I smiled as he swam towards me. He wrapped an arm around me and my legs automatically found his waist. My fingers tangled in his wet hair as I gazed at him with heated eyes. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to have to kiss you,” he confessed as my eyes greedily watched a water droplet that clung to his kissable lips. “Then do it,” I challenged. So he did. The kiss was intense and passionate, but sweet at the same time, a lot like us. He nipped at my lip and my mouth opened beneath his, welcoming him. The water sloshed against our shoulders, moving us with the current, but we didn’t care. I clung to his shoulders, tightening my legs around his waist. His lips moved to my chin and he sprinkled small kisses down my neck. “Was it worth the fall?” He asked huskily with warm green eyes. “Yes,” I answered, knowing he wasn’t referring to the jump. “Good,” he kissed me again. By the time we extracted ourselves from each other’s arms and made it to shore, my fingers were wrinkled. Shivering, I said, “I’m not looking forward to walking back up there with no shoes.” “Stay here,” he pinched my side as he passed me. “I’ll throw your stuff down and then you can walk up.” The twigs on the ground didn’t seem to bother his feet as he walked back up to the cliff. Maybe he really had been a boy scout. He threw my shoes down and I ducked to avoid them. “Sorry!” He called. “Uh-huh, sure you are,” I laughed, retrieving my shorts and t-shirt. Once my shoes were tied I made my way back up to the top of the cliff, luckily I managed to avoid falling and skinning my knees. The trek back to the house went a little faster, but I was still on the lookout for critters that might be determined to take a bite out of me. I knew I was small and defenseless looking, the perfect target for a hungry bear. When we stepped into the yard, I breathed a sigh of relief that I’d made it through alive. Trace made us breakfast and we ate outside before settling on the big leather couch in the family room. He didn’t turn the TV on, but he did turn the gas fireplace on low. It was completely unnecessary, but I loved it nonetheless. It would definitely be fun to visit this place in the winter and see all the snow. We didn’t usually get much snow where we lived in Virginia and I actually missed it. I curled myself against Trace’s side but soon found myself sprawled on my back with him hovering above me. “What are you doing?” I giggled. “Nothing.” “You’re up to something,” I remarked. His lips quirked at the corners. “That may be so.” Suddenly, he rolled off the couch, taking me with him. I landed against his chest and the air gusted out of my lungs. “What was that for?” I gasped. “I thought the rug looked mighty comfortable, of course,” he spread out his arms and legs like one would if making snow angels. “I’m sure it’s very comfortable,” I commented, going to move off his chest, but he rolled over again and pinned me beneath him. “Seriously,” I laughed, “what are you doing?” “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Playing, I guess.” “What are we, five?” My body shook with laughter. “Yeah,” he grinned, “wanna wrestle?” I snorted. “Yeah, because I’m really going to be able to take you on,” I gripped his muscular arms. “I’ll go easy on you,” he smiled boyishly. “Fine,” I smiled.

“One, two—” Before he said three I brought one of my legs up and wrapped it around his waist. Levering my weight, I flipped him off of me. He landed on his back with me straddling him. His eyes widened in surprise. I grabbed his arms, forcing them above his head where I held them down. Bending my head, and letting my hair fall around us like a curtain, I closed the distance between us like I was about to kiss him. When my lips grazed his, I breathed, “I win.” He growled low in his throat. “You tricked me.” “I’m small, I have to use something to my advantage,” I sat up, smiling down at him. He narrowed his eyes. He reached up and placed his hand against my neck, caressing me. My eyes closed and before I could take another breath, gravity tilted and he had me beneath him. He lowered himself so that his whole body was pressed firmly against mine and I had no chance of escape. I tilted my head up, pressing kisses against his collarbone and neck in the hopes of distracting him long enough to gain control of the situations. His lips found mine, and his fingers pulled at my hair, but not so hard that it hurt. All thoughts of the game we’d been playing left my mind. My hands skimmed under his shirt, over the smooth skin of his toned stomach. He sat up long enough to remove the shirt and then he was on top of me again. My hands greedily memorized every curve and dip of his muscular chest and stomach. God, he was like a work of art. He raised my shirt over my head and kissed the dip between my breasts. His tongue flicked out, licking a wet trail down my stomach. My back arched off the rug. “Trace,” I moaned his name as his tongue circled around my belly button ring. He continued down my body, undoing the button on my shorts. I raised my hips so that he could tug them off. He kissed the skin of my stomach, just above the top of my bikini bottoms. My heart rate accelerated in the anticipation of what was to come. His fingers began to tug on the string holding my bikini top in place. Before he could undo the knot, both our phones began to ring at the same time. He pulled back slightly and from his expression I knew he was tempted to ignore them, but when both calls ended the phones started ringing again. “Fuck,” he groaned, rolling off of me and into a standing position. He reached down to haul me up. “And just when it was getting to the good part.” He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and answered it. I found my phone on the kitchen counter and puzzled as to why Trent would be calling me. What if something happened to Ace? “Hello?” I answered. “Olivia,” Trent sounded breathless, “you guys have to come home right now.” “Why?” I questioned, my gut telling me I didn’t want to know the answer. “It’s Gramps,” his voice was tense. At his words I lost my hold on the phone and it crashed to the ground. I watched it shatter apart, exactly like my insides. I looked up into Trace’s pale face. While we’d been happy and joking around, Gramps had … “Trace,” I crashed into his arms, both of us crying. My heart hurt as it broke. This wasn’t fair. Why did Gramps have to die? He didn’t deserve this. He was a good man, better than most people. Why did he have to get sick and suffer like this? “I didn’t get to say goodbye,” my voice was muffled against his chest. “There’s still time,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the top of my head. “There is?” I tilted my head back, looking at him with wide eyes, scared to hope. “That was my mom,” he wiped away his tears with one hand. “Gramps is in the hospital … things are bad, Olivia. Real bad. He only has a few days left.” “We’re not going to make it back in time, are we?” I began to cry harder. “I’m going to make sure we’re there,” he took my face between his hands. “My mom’s getting us plane tickets now. I’ll pay someone to drive the car back to me.” His words relieved me. We’d get to see Gramps again. There was so much I wanted to tell him … but none of it mattered. All I wanted to do was hug him. “We need to pack,” Trace whispered, “and get to the airport.”

I nodded. “You get our stuff from the laundry room and I’ll head upstairs and get a head start there.” He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me close. “I need you,” he said softly. I realized then, that sometimes those words were even more powerful than I love you.

Trace’s leg bounced up and down restlessly as we waited to board the plane. I kind of wished I had some drugs to knock him out with. He was that worked up. “Why aren’t they boarding yet?” He asked through gritted teeth. “I don’t know,” I placed my hand on his knee to stop his shaking. “We still have a while until we’re supposed to leave.” He buried his face in his hands and growled, causing more than one person to look our way. “God,” he groaned. “I should be there! Not here!” I went to place my hand on his back, but he stood abruptly, pacing in front of the seats. “Trace, you need to calm down. This isn’t solving anything,” I said in as soothing of a voice as I could manage. I was stressed and it was giving me a tension headache. It wouldn’t be long before I snapped at him and he didn’t need me giving him a hard time right now. What we needed was each other. He paced back and forth in front of me a few more times before sitting down. He leaned his head back and stared at the plain white ceiling of the airport. “This isn’t fucking fair,” he snapped. “I know it’s not,” I took a deep breath, fighting tears as images of Gramps filled my mind. “But it’s life and life is never fair.” “I feel like I need to smoke or something,” Trace announced. “And I don’t even smoke. I just …” “You need something to take your mind off what’s happening. I understand,” I crossed my legs. “What I need is to be there,” he whispered. “I should have never talked you into that fucking road trip. But I needed it … you know?” He waited for me to nod before he continued. “And I wanted you to meet your grandparents.” “Trace,” I placed my hand over his where it rested on his leg, “we can’t dwell on the things we wish we could change. Besides, would you really want to undo our whole trip? We had some really great times.” “No, I wouldn’t,” he admitted. I cupped his cheek in my hand. “We’re going to get there in time.” “How do you know?” He asked, tears swimming in his eyes. “Because, he’s a Wentworth,” I forced a smile, repeating the words Trace told me often, “and he’s stubborn. He’s going to wait to say goodbye.” “You’re right,” he forced a small smile. About that time they called for us to line up for boarding. Trace heaved both of our duffel bags onto his shoulders. He handed the lady our tickets and she motioned us through. “First class, really?” I eyed him upon entering the plane. “My mom bought the tickets,” he shrugged, taking the seat by the window.

I sat down beside him, buckling the seatbelt even though it would be awhile before the plane actually took flight. Trace was still on edge, but he had calmed down a little bit since we got on the plane. I knew he wouldn’t feel better until we saw Gramps, and even then it wouldn’t ease the burden of knowing that Gramps was going to leave us very soon.

When we landed in Dulles it was almost ten at night. Trace’s mom was waiting for us in her white BMW SUV. She got out, hugging each of us. Her blue eyes were bloodshot with bags underneath. She kissed Trace’s cheek, but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much that anyone could say to make this situation better. Once we were seated in the back of the car, Lily said, “We’ll go straight to the hospital. He’s in a private room so no one can complain about it being too late for visitors.” “How is he?” Trace asked shakily, reaching for my hand. “He’s … he’s dying, Trace. So, not good,” she pinched the bridge of her nose as she pulled away from the curb. “He’s laughing and joking, but it’s not good.” “He—he told us, a few weeks before we left, that—that he had cancer,” Trace admitted. Lily’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “He told you, but not anyone else? Why would he do that? Your grandma is beside herself, clearly he hadn’t told her.” “I guess he didn’t want you and Grammy fussing over him.” He rubbed his free hand nervously on the fabric of his jeans. “Of course we would have fussed over him!” Lily exclaimed and I saw tears begin to stream out of her eyes. “He shouldn’t have been working so hard! He should have been home relaxing and trying to get better!” “Mom,” Trace leaned forward from the backseat and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Gramps. Didn’t. Want. That.” “I don’t care,” she wiped her eyes free of tears and looked over her shoulder before changing lanes. “I know he’s not my dad, but I feel like he is. He and your grandmother have always been there for me. Especially after Trey died.” Trace looked at me and back at his mom. “I know none of us want to face reality, but the truth is, he’s going to die. Everyone dies. It’s not a matter of if it’s when. That doesn’t make it any easier to accept, but it’s the truth. I don’t want to lose Gramps,” his voice cracked. “But it’s inevitable.” We all grew quiet after that. It took an hour and a half to make it to the hospital and when Lily parked the car my stomach plummeted. This was it. I had never had to watch someone I loved wither away and die. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough for this, and I knew I needed to keep my head together for Trace. We followed Lily into the hospital with our hands clasped together like we were the only things keeping the other person from falling apart. I inhaled the sickening scent of alcohol and disinfectant, and images of my time in the hospital came flooding back to me. I pushed them aside though. I couldn’t think about that right now. We ended up on the top floor of the hospital and Lily came to a stop in front of a closed wooden door. “He’s probably sleeping, but at least you can see him,” she said. She hugged each of us and headed down the hall to where the waiting room was. Trace looked down at me questioningly. I nodded and he opened the door. Gramps wasn’t sleeping. Instead, he was sitting up in the bed smiling widely at us. His skin was pale and gray in color. He’d lost weight since the last time I saw him and more wrinkles lined his face. But his eyes were exactly the same and the happiness that shone there almost brought me to my knees. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite person in the whole world and my shitty grandson.” I laughed, despite feeling like I’d rather curl up in a ball and cry, and leaned my head on Trace’s shoulder. “He’s not that shitty. I kind of like him,” I smiled at Gramps as we stopped at the end of his bed. “Come here, the both of you,” he opened his arms, “I’m not contagious. It’s not like you can catch cancer if I breathe on you.”

Only a Wentworth would crack jokes as he faced death. Trace and I separated, standing with one of us on each side of the bed. “I’ve missed you,” Gramps looked at us both. “I’ve missed you too,” I started to cry, because I knew that in a matter of time I’d be missing him for the rest of my life. I would never forget Warren. I looked up at Trace, and my heart broke at the look of hopelessness in his eyes. One day, when we had kids, I was going to make sure they knew how remarkable their great-grandfather and grandpa had been. I had never met Trey, Trace’s dad, but I knew if he was anything like the rest of the family he was a special person and the world wasn’t nearly as beautiful of a place because he was gone. “Don’t cry,” Gramps reached up shakily to wipe my tears away. “An old man like me doesn’t deserve your tears.” “You deserve everything,” I sobbed, reaching down to hug his small frame. I never wanted to let him go. A part of me was convinced that I could keep him alive by sheer will power. I pulled away, wiping at my wet face. I don’t think I had ever cried this much or this hard in my whole life. Gramps looked at me sadly and I blurted, “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, sweetie.” He looked up at Trace and took one of his hands as well as one of mine. “I hear you two went and got married without me.” “Sorry, Gramps,” Trace mumbled, bowing his head in shame. “Don’t be sorry,” Gramps repeated the same words he’d spoken to me. “I’m happy this one,” he squeezed my hand lightly, “is finally a true Wentworth … But I do have something to ask of you both.” “Anything,” I gasped. “We’ll do anything you want.” With a shaky breath, he explained, “I only have a few days left to live, and if it’s not too much to ask —” He became overwhelmed by a coughing fit and couldn’t continue for a moment. When he recovered, he said, “All I want is to see you walk down the aisle, Olivia. I want to watch you and my grandson exchange vows as you embark on the next step in your life. I know you were planning to have a ceremony where you exchanged rings in a few more weeks, but I won’t be around for that,” his hand tightened around mine. “Please, this is all I want.” I glanced up at Trace and we both had the same look in our eyes. How could we not grant Gramps’ dying wish? “Of course,” we said simultaneously. “I’ll talk to Lily and see if we can move things up,” I croaked. You’d think eventually I’d run out of tears to cry but they kept flowing. “We’ll do whatever it takes,” I promised. “I know you will, sweetie,” he craned his neck, trying to kiss my cheek. I lowered my head and his papery lips pressed softly against my skin. I was surprised by how cold his lips were. “Gramps, there’s something I need to tell you,” Trace started. I looked over at him and released Gramps’ hand. “I’ll step out and talk with your mom.” “No!” He cried. “No,” he said in a softer tone. “I need you here too. You should hear this.” “What’s going on?” I tilted my head to the side as I looked at him. “Let’s sit down and get comfortable.” Trace was already pulling a chair up to the side of Gramps’ bed. I eyed him nervously, but sat down. I took Gramps’ cool hand into mine once more. “What is it?” Gramps asked, eyeing Trace questioningly. “You look like you’re going to throw up. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is. Spit it out, boy.” Trace took a deep breath. “I don’t want to take over the company, Gramps. I can’t be a CEO. It won’t make me happy and I refuse to be miserable for the rest of my life. I’m sorry. I really am. I tried. But it’s not for me. I hate to disappoint you,” he wiped away tears, “but I have to do what’s right for me.” Gramps let out a sigh of relief and then began to laugh hysterically. “It’s about damn time you grew a pair and told me,” he chortled. “I would’ve never let you take the company, knowing you hated it. But I wanted you to come to that decision yourself.” “You mean—” Trace started but Gramps cut him off. “Yes, I knew you hated it. I’ve known this life wouldn’t be for you since you were a small boy. No matter what you do, I’ll always be proud of you. When I’m gone, I’ll be smiling down on you from above, proud to call you my grandson … even if your hard headedness drives me crazy.” “I love you,” Trace sobbed, standing and kicking the chair back as he hugged Gramps. I watched them hug each other, two generations of Wentworth’s, and it killed me that Gramps was

leaving us. Why did he have to get cancer? Why did he have to die? It wasn’t fair! I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to get out of the hospital room. I opened the door and fled down the hall as far and as fast as my feet would carry me. I hadn’t made it far when I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing hysterically. I rested my back against the wall and drew my knees up. Burying my face in my hands, I let myself cry. Not just a few tears, but a torrent of them. I let them cleanse me and try to heal the pain I felt inside. But I knew I could never really be healed. There would always be a hole in my heart where my love for Gramps was held and so brutally cut out. Someone sat down beside me and arms wrapped around me. Trace’s scent enveloped me and I grasped his shirt in my hands. My tears were waning and anger was replacing sadness. “It isn’t fair,” I smacked his solid chest as hard as I could, like this was his fault. “Why? Tell me why, he has to die. This isn’t right. He doesn’t deserve this,” I cried, hitting him repeatedly with the sides of my fists. I had never felt anger like this before, not even after Aaron tried to kill me. Trace didn’t say anything as I hit him. When my fists fell to my sides, he pulled me onto his lap and rested his chin on top of my head. “Life is never fair,” he whispered, “and it really fucking sucks.” I clung to his shoulders, getting tears on his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He ran his fingers through my hair in an effort to soothe me. When I was calmed down, I laid a hand over his heart. “I’m sorry for hitting you,” I whispered, ashamed of myself. “I shouldn’t have done that.” My hair fell around me to conceal my face. “It’s okay. I understand. I feel like punching a wall, so I get it,” he pressed his lips lightly against my forehead. “Did you really mean what you told Gramps? You’re not going to take over the business?” “Yeah,” he sighed, “I meant it. You were right … God, you’re always right,” he leaned his head against the wall and gazed at the ceiling. “I need to do what makes me happy. Being a mechanic does that for me … and there’s something else I need to tell you …” He paused, taking a deep breath. “What is it?” I cupped his stubbled cheek in the palm of my hand. “A week before we left,” he swallowed thickly, “Pete called me into his office to talk. He’s older and not in the best shape, and he wants to sell the shop … to me.” “To you? Like … to own?” “Yeah,” he nodded. “Pete said he trusts me to take it over. He doesn’t have any kids and he wants it to go to someone who really cares about cars. Apparently, I’m his only choice. If I tell him no, he’ll close down the shop for good.” Despite the situation we were currently surrounded by, I found myself smiling. “I’m so proud of you,” I kissed his chin. “Proud? Why?” “For being the man I love and a person I can respect,” I traced a finger over his collarbone. He kissed me lightly and stood, pulling me up with him. “Let’s go find my mom and get this wedding figured out.” We turned down the hallway and a nurse directed us to the waiting room. Lily was asleep in one of the chairs, her neck tilted at an uncomfortable angle. She’d definitely be feeling that later. “Mom,” Trace shook her knee. She came sputtering awake. “What? What? Did something bad happen?” She looked around hastily. “No, nothing like that, mom,” Trace crouched in front of her. “What is it, then?” She rubbed her eyes. “You ready to go?” Trace didn’t hear her. Instead he was looking around the large waiting room. “Where’s Grammy?” “I had Trent take her home. She was tired and wanted to stay here, but being in this place isn’t going to do her any good.” “Right, of course,” he nodded. “Anyway, we need to talk to you about something,” Trace explained as I took the seat beside Lily. Before she could question him, he continued, “We need to move the ceremony up … do you think you can have something ready in three days?” “Three days?” She gasped, startled. “Trace, are you crazy? Three weeks is pushing it. Three days is impossible.” “Make it happen.”

Her mouth gaped open. “Mom, he doesn’t have much time and Gramps wants to be there. Move it up. I know you can put together a beautiful wedding for us,” he reached for me and took my hand. “The whole family needs to be there.” Rubbing her face, she eyed each of us tiredly. “You two better love me a lot.” I knew asking Lily to plan a wedding so quickly was unfair, especially with Gramps in the hospital, but it needed to be done. “Thanks, mom,” Trace hugged her tightly. “You’re the best mom anyone could have,” he planted a loud kiss on her cheek. “Now, can you do me another favor and take Olivia home and go home yourself? I’ll stay with Gramps.” “Are you sure?” She asked. “You have to be tired from your flight.” “I’m fine,” he assured her. “If I go home all I’ll do is worry and keep Olivia awake.” “Okay,” she stood and hugged him. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be here as quick as I can.” I kissed Trace goodbye and followed Lily outside. We were both quiet as she drove me to the apartment, but when we reached the parking lot and she parked, she said, “Promise me you’ll be there for him through this. Since Trey died, Gramps has been like a father to Trace. I’m worried about how he’ll react. He needs you.” “I’ll be there for him, no matter what,” I promised, even though I wasn’t sure I could do it. “Thank you,” she patted my cheek. I dug the key to the apartment out of my purse and grabbed our bags from the trunk, hobbling up the steps. When I opened the door, a streak of black ran at me, knocking me to the ground. A long pink tongue flicked out and swiped over my cheek. “Ace!” I cried in delight. “I missed you, buddy!” I hadn’t been expecting Ace to be here, but sweet Trent had brought him home since he knew we were back. He was getting a big hug for this. Now, I didn’t have to be at home alone and I had my fur baby to comfort me. After Ace had thoroughly licked my face, he looked over my shoulder for Trace. “Sorry, Ace, but daddy isn’t home yet,” I scratched his ears. It’s just you and me tonight. Are you going to keep me safe?” At my words the large lab ran over to his basket of dog toys, grabbed his Jabba the Hutt squeaker toy, and ran into the bedroom. A second later I heard the thump as he jumped on the bed. Shaking my head, I got to my feet, and carried the bags into the room. After a quick shower I climbed into the bed. Suddenly, I was exhausted. I’d been running on adrenaline since the moment we got the phone call and the day’s events had finally caught up with me. Curling my body against Ace’s, I promptly fell asleep.

A banging on the front door had me sitting up and instantly alert. “What the hell?” I groaned, looking at the clock. It was after nine in the morning, but after everything I’d been through yesterday, I wanted to sleep till noon. I grabbed a jacket and tugged it on as I headed to the door. I opened it to find Avery standing there, her hair blowing in a slight breeze with sunglasses holding the long strands back, and there was a huge smile on her face. “I missed you!” She hugged me. “I missed you too,” I hugged her back, a bit surprised by her exuberance since she’d been such a downer before we left. She stepped away from me and I took a moment to study her. Her hair was more vibrant and her skin had a rosy hue. “You seem … happy,” I commented as I closed the door. “Luca and I are back together,” she beamed. “We had a heart to heart, and I told him that I couldn’t live without him. He’s it for me, Livie. I was being stubborn and fighting what I felt for him. But I realized that he and I … we’re perfect for each other.” I rolled my eyes. I’d known that since the moment they met each other. I couldn’t believe it had taken her three years to figure that out. My eyes landed on the shirt she was wearing and I began to laugh. “What? You don’t like it?” She plucked at the red garment. “It’s very you.” I’m the Maid of Honor B*tch, I read the shirt over again. “I thought so too,” she smiled, doing a little twirl. “You need to get dressed. We have to go dress shopping. Lily knows a place in Tysons that should have something beautiful and in your size so we don’t have to worry about alterations.” I hurried into the bedroom and changed out of my pajamas into clothes. Avery stood in the doorway, looking at her bright red fingernails. “You know,” she said, “I should really still be mad at you for getting married without having me there. I mean, I’m your best friend, Livie. But I’m so happy to be back with Luca that I don’t care.” “It’s not like everyone else was there and you weren’t invited,” I shimmied into a pair of shorts. “It was only Trace and me.” “Do you think that matters?” She fluffed the ends of her hair. She smiled slowly, “I’m sorry, I’m not mad … anymore. I just like to give you a hard time.” “I know you do.” I opened a drawer and grabbed a shirt. Before I could put it on, Avery yanked the fabric from my hands. “Avery!” “Seriously, girl, we’re going into the city. You can do better than this,” she held up the black tank top, “and shorts.” “You’re wearing shorts and a t-shirt!” I accused.

“But I’m the Maid of Honor. I can’t outdo the bride,” she reasoned, going through the closet. “Isn’t that just on the wedding day?” She turned to me, rolling her eyes. “If I tried to look my best, I’d outshine you.” My mouth fell open. “I’m kidding, Olivia. Geez, I’m not that much of a bitch. Honestly. Haven’t you known me long enough to know when I’m being serious and when I’m not?” “Yeah, sorry,” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m going to go brush my hair and what not while you pick out my clothes … you know, since you seem to think I’m your doll or something.” “Damn straight, and you’re a pretty little doll.” Shaking my head, I wandered out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. I put on makeup, still having to hide the slightly yellow colored skin around my eye, and let my hair hang down instead of braiding it out of the way. When I came back into the bedroom Avery had a peach colored dress laid out on top of the bed with a pair of brown cowboy boots. I’d swear neither were from my wardrobe. “Where’d you get those?” “Your closet, duh,” she looked at me like I was stupid. “Where else would I have gotten it?” “I don’t know,” I shrugged, fingering the soft fabric of the dress. “I just don’t remember this.” Avery shook her head, fighting a smile. “That’s because you wear the same thing all the time.” “I don’t like getting dressed up,” I frowned. “It’s not comfortable.” “You’re ridiculous,” she put her hands on her hips. “Now get dressed and meet me in the car. We’ll stop for breakfast on our way.” With that, she flounced out of the room and outside. The front door slammed closed behind her. It wasn’t the first time I was glad we didn’t have neighbors. I got dressed and grabbed a cereal bar before joining her outside. Knowing Avery, she would forget to stop for breakfast and I’d be left starving. At least the cereal bar would be something. “Hurry up, biotch,” she called from inside her red Volkswagen Beetle convertible. She slid her sunglasses on and waved me forward. I reluctantly made my way down the steps and slid into her car. “Ready to have some fun?” She asked. “Yes,” I said, even though inside I was screaming no. “Let’s find you a wedding dress,” she grinned, speeding out of the parking lot. “How about you drive like a sane person so I don’t throw up on all the pretty dresses when we get there?” I retorted. Her foot eased off the gas pedal. “You’re such a party pooper. First, no strippers, and now you won’t even let me speed.” “You’ll thank me when you don’t have a speeding ticket,” I eyed her. “Oh, whatever,” she turned the blinker on, making a hasty turn, “you’re still a fun sucker.” She grabbed a pack of gum from the center console and unwrapped the stick, tossing the wrapper into the back of her car. “You want a piece?” She held the pack out to me, already snapping away. “No thanks.” “So, besides getting married, what else did you do while you were gone?” She asked, getting on the interstate. Make memories. “Oh, you know,” I shrugged, “Just had fun.” “Come on, girl. You’ve got to give me more detail than that.” “We went bungee jumping,” I replied, looking out the window. “Bungee jumping? Like, where you jump off a bridge?” “Yeah, that.” “You’re insane,” she gasped in disbelief. “I would never do that. I’d be afraid I’d die.” “I didn’t want to, but it was worth it,” I shrugged. I knew there was no point in keeping the information from her, after all they’d be at the wedding, so I found myself saying, “Trace found my grandparents.” “What?!” She exclaimed. “Like, Derek’s parents?” I nodded. “Yeah, they’re … great. I met my uncle too. He looks so much like Derek that for a moment I thought my mom had lied and he was still alive.” “Wow … that’s intense.” “They’re coming to the wedding,” I explained. “I hope my mom doesn’t get mad.”

“Why would she?” “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “You worry way too much, Livie,” Avery shook her head. “Just chillax.” Straightening her shoulders, she said, “I’m excited to meet them.” “They’re really amazing,” I smiled proudly. “Margaret, my grandma, and Douglas, my grandpa, own a store in their town. It’s the cutest place ever. She loves to make things, especially origami. She taught me how to make origami stars and even gave me a jar full of ones made by my dad. It’s like I finally have a piece of him.” After I’d showered last night, I’d taken the jar out of my bag and sat it on the coffee table in the living room so I could look at it every day. “Wow, that’s really amazing,” Avery smiled at me and I knew she truly meant it. “I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am that you’ve met them.” “Thanks,” I fiddled with a piece of hair to busy my fingers. “So, where exactly is this place in Tysons?” I asked. I’d lived in Winchester for four years and had only been in the city area a few times. Tysons was close to Washington D.C. and had a bunch of fancy shops. It was a nice area, but not exactly my cup of tea. I preferred simplicity. “I’m not sure. Lily gave me good directions so I doubt we’ll get lost, plus I have a navigation system if that happens. I think it’s near the mall though.” “Is it going to be super fancy?” “Um … we are shopping for a wedding dress so probably,” she laughed. I wrinkled my nose. “I’m warning you now, Avery. I do not want some fluffy dress that looks like it belongs in a museum, not on an actual bride. I want something simple and flowy, since the wedding will be outside at the Wentworth mansion. Understand?” She frowned. “At least try one on.” She waved a single finger in front of my face. I smacked her hand down. “Not happening,” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not wasting my time trying on a dress I’ll never wear.” “You suck,” she stuck her tongue out at me. Wanting to get the topic off of me, I asked, “So what happened with Luca?” “I decided to stop being an idiot and tell him how I really feel … I told him everything.” “And by everything, you mean?” I prompted. “Olivia,” her hands tightened on the steering wheel, “this is something difficult for me to talk about. It’s why I push people away, and it’s why I fucked random guys for like … ever.” “Okay,” I swallowed thickly, preparing myself for what she had to say. “God, I don’t want to tell you this,” she kept her eyes on the road and away from me. “Avery,” I spoke her name softly, “you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m not going to hate you if you keep secrets.” Even this many years later I had never told Avery about my Live List. Before I met Trace, I had been embarrassed about it and I knew if I told her she’d try to cross everything off in one night. But once I met Trace and confessed my list to him, it sort of became our thing and I didn’t want to share it with anyone else. “No,” she shook her head. “I need to tell you. But you have to understand something … no one but Luca knows this. It’s taken me a long time to admit that what happened to me was real. But it happened and it sucks. But you move on. Talking about it … makes me feel better,” she sighed deeply. “My only hope is that you don’t look at me differently once I tell you.” “Gosh, Avery. Look at what I went through with finding out about my real dad and then after Aaron tried to kill me. I can handle it,” I told my best friend with the utmost sincerity. “It seems weird telling you this in the car,” she forced a laugh. “But I don’t have a choice now.” “You always have a choice, Avery. You can wait.” She took a deep breath to steady herself and continued like I hadn’t said anything. “You remember how I told you growing up that my parents were gone a lot?” “Yeah,” I nodded, my brow furrowing. “When my parents left on their extended business trips and whatnot, my dad’s sister and her husband would stay at the house with us. They couldn’t have kids so they said they didn’t mind,” she began to tear up and my heart clenched. “One time, when I was eleven, my uncle said he was going to take me up to bed and read me a story. They always read a story to me, but that night Ray didn’t read me a story.” “What did he do, Avery?” I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

She turned her head towards me slightly before her eyes flicked back to the road. “He pushed me on my bed and he raped me. I screamed and tried to fight him, but he held me down and nothing stopped him.” She was crying now and her teeth were clenched. “Didn’t your aunt hear you scream? Your brothers?” I gasped, horrified by what she told me. I had known there had to be something to make Avery the way she was. But I’d always assumed it had to do with abandonment issues from being left by her parents all the time. Never, in a million years, had I ever suspected something like this. She shook her head. “They were all in the basement, watching a movie. No one heard … unfortunately.” I didn’t know what to say. Frankly, there was nothing I could say. I didn’t understand how anyone could do something like that another person, let alone a child. “Avery,” I started and words failed me. “It’s okay,” she looked over at me. “For a long time I blocked it from my mind. After that, I put up a fit and my parents didn’t ask them to watch us anymore. Actually, shortly before graduation I saw them. It was the first time I had seen Ray since he’d—” She paused, then forced the word out through clenched teeth, “—raped me. Up until then, it had been easy for me to pretend it hadn’t happened. But seeing him sent all those memories rushing back at me and I felt so helpless. I lashed out at you and Luca, because you’re the two people I care about the most,” she swallowed thickly. “I was really mean to him and so we broke up. He told me he’d be waiting when I decided to tell him what the fuck my problem was. So … I finally told him. If I expect to have a future with him, he needed to know everything.” She glanced over at me and it was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders by telling me. “Oh, Avery.” I desperately wanted to reach over and hug my best friend but since we were driving that wasn’t exactly the best idea. “It’s okay, Livie. I knew I needed to tell you, so you would understand why I was being so distant. Seeing Ray made me want to close myself off from everyone and I’m sorry about that. It’s the only way I know how to deal with things … that and fucking guys. But I’m a new woman now,” she squared her shoulders, turning into a parking lot. I looked up, surprised to see that we were already in Tysons. I guessed we’d been talking longer than I thought. “Luca changed me … no, that’s not right. He didn’t change me. But the love I feel for him did.” She parked the car and I could finally hug her. “What was that for?” She asked when I pulled away. Wiping my tears away, I answered, “You needed a hug.” “I did?” “You definitely did,” I forced a laugh. “I don’t want me telling you this to change things between us,” she stared at her hands so she didn’t have to look at me. “I’m still me, Livie.” “I know you are,” I took her hand, trying to offer as much comfort as I possibly could. “I’m glad you told me, but I’m sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to suffer through a tragedy like that alone. I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine, but if it ever gets too hard you know you can come to me. I love you, Avery.” I hugged her again. “You may be slightly crazy,” I laughed, wiping away a few stray tears, “but you’re my best friend.” “I love you too, Livie.” Her chest shook as she fought tears. Shaking her head, she said, “Let’s find you a wedding dress.” Leave it to Avery to be the one to change the subject. I put on a brave face, knowing I needed to be strong for her … besides she’d kick my ass if I ever looked at her with pity. I followed her into the fancy upscale store. Everything was white with shiny chrome accents. It kind of reminded me of a museum, where you could look but not touch. I frowned, wondering if I was really going to be able to find a dress I liked here. I mean, I knew they had loads of beautiful dresses, which was obvious from the mannequins scattered about. But would any of them be me? I stopped in front of a dress that looked so heavy a crane probably had to be used to lift it. And oh my goodness, it had feathers coming out of the back. Feathers! “Uh, Avery,” I called out, “I think we should go somewhere else.” A hastily cleared throat had me turning around to face Avery and a saleswoman. Oh crap. “Oh, um, I mean, the dresses are lovely, but you know … a bit much.” I blushed, wishing I could ram my fist in

my mouth so I’d stop talking. “Lily told me you’d be coming,” the sales woman said. Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun, reminding me of a schoolteacher from many years ago, and I feared she might pull out a ruler to smack me. “She mentioned you wouldn’t like some of the more … outlandish dresses we sell. I have a room set up for you with some dresses I’ve already pulled.” “Oh … great. Are they …” I looked over my shoulder at the feather Cinderella style ball gown, “not so … big and feathery?” She laughed and it softened her features. “You’re funny,” she reached for my hand and began pulling me along behind her. “I wasn’t trying to be,” I mumbled. She dragged me into a large room and once Avery was inside she closed the door. “I also have some dresses laid aside for your Maid of Honor,” she wrinkled her nose at Avery’s shirt. “As well as your mother and Lily.” “Are they coming?” I looked between the saleslady and Avery. “Later,” Avery answered. “Oh, and how rude of me. My name is Louise,” the saleswoman held out a hand. “Olivia,” I took it, giving it a light shake. “I hope we can find the perfect dress for you and make all your wedding dreams come true,” she smiled. I tried to hide my laugh at her words. Avery shot me a glare, which made it even harder not to snicker. “Come, come,” Louise took me over to a rack of gowns. “Browse through these and see if anything catches your eye.” I flipped through the dresses, surprised that most of them were fairly normal looking. Lily definitely did tell her what I liked. I would have to thank her for that later. “Let’s try this one,” I pulled out a dress with a small train with antique lace and short sleeves. “Seriously, Livie, that’s the one you choose?” Avery wrinkled her nose, glaring at the dress. “It’s pretty and I like it,” I held the dress close to my body. “It looks like something my great-grandma would have gotten married in,” she scoffed. She pushed herself up from he chair and began to look through the rack. She pulled out a tight fitting mermaid style gown with a low neckline. “You should wear something like this. It’s sexy.” I rolled my eyes. It amazed me that Avery could confess something to traumatizing to me one second, and be talking about sexy wedding dresses the next. I wanted to talk to her about it more, but I knew that would probably never happen. Avery had never been one to sit around and talk about her feelings. “Yes, so while we’re saying my vows my boobs can pop out and Trace can get a preview of what’s to come,” I said sarcastically. Avery rolled her eyes and put the dress back on the rack. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen them before.” “And I’m sure the rest of the guests would enjoy the peep show as well?” “Whatever. Don’t try it. But at least pick something not so … grandma-ish. You’re twenty-two, Livie. Act like it.” “I’m trying it on,” I turned my back on her and handed the dress to Louise who was currently pretending that she hadn’t been listening to our conversation. Louise helped me into the dress and onto a raised platform. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, marveling at the fact that I was wearing a freakin’ wedding dress. I knew we were already married, but seeing myself in a dress made it even more real. I smoothed my hands down the lacy fabric and turned so I could see the back of the dress. It was beautiful and I loved it, despite Avery frowning in the mirror’s reflection, but I knew it wasn’t the one. I wanted to take Trace’s breath away the first time he saw me in my wedding gown, and I knew this dress wasn’t the one to do that. “This isn’t the one,” I shook my head at my reflection and stepped off the platform. Louise unzipped the dress and hung it back up. I tried on an A-line style next but thought it was a bit too fancy and big for an outdoor wedding. Oh gosh—I really hoped I didn’t get as hot as I did at my mom’s wedding. That had sucked. “Do you have anything … really simple … but pretty?” Louise laughed at my vague description. “Let me go check the stockroom and see if we still have the one I’m thinking of. I’ll be right back,” she excused herself from the room.

“If I was getting married, I’d wear something like that,” Avery pointed to a dress in the corner of the room on a mannequin. It was on the risqué side with a low-cut top and high slit on the side. “That’s an interesting dress,” I replied. I wanted to tell her it was slutty, but I thought that would be rude so I kept my mouth shut. Besides, she wasn’t getting married … yet. I could talk her out of something like that when the time came. Louise returned, closing the door behind her. “We still have it and it’s in your size. We might need to shorten it a bit if you like this one.” “Let’s see it,” I smiled kindly. Louise held the dress up and my jaw dropped. It was exactly what I had seen in my head. Everything about it was me. “Oh my,” I gasped, reaching out to finger the fabric. “Do you like it?” Louise dared to ask. “It’s beautiful,” I gasped. She smiled widely and helped me into the dress. When I looked in the mirror, tears sprung to my eyes. “This is my dress.” I spun around giddily. It fit my curves perfectly and didn’t swallow me whole like some dresses. It was flowy with a small train and strapless. It had a sweetheart neckline that showed off a little bit of my chest but I didn’t feel like I was going to fall out of it. The top also had really pretty beaded detailing. I felt like a fairy princess in it. “Excellent!” Louise clapped her hands together. “Let me go grab one of the seamstresses so we can bring this up a bit,” she pointed to the hemline I was bound to trip over. “Would you like a veil? Headband?” “No,” I shook my head. Louise hadn’t been gone long when the door cracked open. “Mom!” I exclaimed, hopping off the platform and running towards her. I hugged her tightly. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “Look at you!” I gasped at the size of her stomach. She placed a hand over the bulge. “Four more months until little Abigail joins the family.” I paused, repeating her words in my head. “Abigail?” I said hesitantly. “The baby’s a girl?!” “Yeah, another little girl,” she smiled as I hugged her again. “I can’t believe this,” I gasped. “Abigail is such a pretty name too.” “We’re going to call her Abby,” she explained, hugging a teary eyed Avery. Obviously this was news to her too. “Hi, Lily,” I smiled at my mother-in-law as she entered the room. “Hey gorgeous,” she chuckled. “Oh my God! That dress is beautiful!” Lily exclaimed, looking the dress up and down, and then forcing me to turn around so she could see the back. “Please tell me this is the one you’re getting. It’s exquisite.” “Yeah, this is the one,” I spun around in circles so the dress fanned around me. “It’s so gorgeous, Liv,” my mom gasped. “You couldn’t have picked a better dress.” Avery would probably have liked to argue that I could have found something better, but she kept her mouth shut, resolving to the fact that I wasn’t going to wear anything scandalous. Louise joined us once again, wheeling in another rack of dresses. A seamstress breezed in behind her and over to me. I stood on the platform and let her measure me and begin to place pins where adjustments needed to be made. “Olivia?” Lily asked, shuffling through the dresses on the new rack. “What color were you thinking for Avery’s dress?” “I don’t really have anything specific in mind … something light colored though.” “I think this will be perfect.” Lily pulled a dress out and held it up. “Do you like this one?” It was a short blush colored dress with flower detailing on the side and a black ribbon around the waist. “That’s perfect!” Louise took the dress from Lily and helped Avery into it. I thought the dress looked absolutely gorgeous on Avery. It hugged all of her curves and the color looked pretty with her pale skin and red hair. “What do you think?” I asked her, hoping she didn’t turn into a total diva. “It’s perfect … as long as you like it,” she replied, looking at her reflection wistfully. “I do love it. We’ll take it,” I told Louise. The seamstress finished marking the alterations and informed me I needed to change. Once I was out of the dress, she took it and hurried from the room. “I’ll have the alterations done in an hour or so,”

she called before the door closed behind her. Since we’d found a dress for Avery and me, that left Lily and my mom. I hoped they had something my mom would like and still be comfortable in. Louise pulled a few dresses for Lily. The first two were horrible and so I decided to intervene. “Do you have anything that isn’t so … frumpy?” I asked. “Lily isn’t old, and even if she was, she doesn’t need to dress like it,” I explained, hoping I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. But honestly, the current dress she had on looked like a box. I never knew fabric could look so … square. Lily laughed. “Oh, Olivia, I love you so much.” I blushed. “It’s the truth.” Louise left the room and returned with a floor length amethyst colored gown. I knew as soon as it was zipped that it was the one. “What do you think, Olivia?” Lily asked as she assessed her appearance in the mirror. “I think we’ve found a winner.” Finding a dress for my mom took a longer amount of time, but Louise finally found a maternity gown that fit and looked good on her. The Kelly green color looked amazing with her glowing complexion and the Grecian style fit her growing belly. I was so relieved that in a matter of hours we’d managed to find dresses for everyone. I’d been really worried that planning something so last minute would result in less than satisfactory dresses. Thank goodness for Lily and her connections. By the time we’d left, all the alterations had already been made and we were able to take the dresses with us. We all stopped to eat a late lunch together before heading our separate ways. When Avery dropped me off at the apartment, I left my dress with her so that Trace wouldn’t see it, and headed inside. I called out for him but there was no answer. It didn’t look like he’d been home to shower or anything. I hated to think he’d been stuck in the depressing hospital all night and day. I tended to Ace and grabbed my car keys. Twenty minutes later, I walked into the hospital and up to Gramps’ room. Gramps wasn’t lying in his bed. Instead, he was sitting in a chair and they were using the bed as a table. “What are you two doing?” I laughed as the door clicked closed behind me. “Playing chess,” Trace chuckled. “I’m going to win.” “Not a chance,” Gramps warned. I pulled up a chair and sat down to watch them finish their game. I wasn’t surprised when Gramps won. “What are you doing here?” Gramps asked me as Trace helped him back in the bed. “Surely you’re not just here to see me. I’m not that handsome to look at anymore.” “I think you’re very handsome. I know where Trace gets all his looks from,” I poked my husband’s cheek. “Yeah, well, he certainly didn’t get his smart mouth from me,” he chortled. “Oh, please, Gramps. Don’t act like you aren’t a smartass,” Trace chuckled, adjusting the blankets around Warren. “Can you believe my grandson talks to me like this? I don’t know why you married this fool,” he shook his head. “You could do so much better.” “Thanks, Gramps. Way to make me feel loved,” Trace put a hand to his heart. Ignoring them, I gripped the footboard of the bed in my hands and leaned forward. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” “Oh,” Warren cleared his throat. “Of course.” Trace eyed me, wondering what was going on. “I know you’re sick and probably aren’t up to it but …” I took a deep breath. “I don’t have a dad to walk me down the aisle and I was wondering if you would …?” I bit my lip nervously as I waited for him to reply. He pushed himself up in the bed. “I don’t care if it takes me ten whole minutes, I will walk you down that aisle, sweet Olivia.” There was a determination in his eyes that had been missing before. “Thank you,” I swallowed thickly, Having Gramps walk me down the aisle meant the world to me. It was a memory I would be able to

hold close to my heart and cherish for the rest of my life. Looking at him now, it was difficult to believe that the doctors didn’t think he’d live past the end of the week. I didn’t want to say goodbye. In fact, I refused to. Saying goodbye implied that something was ending, and I knew that Gramps’ life was really just beginning. “Don’t cry,” Gramps frowned at me. I reached up and felt my cheek. My fingers came away damp. I hadn’t realized I was crying. Maybe my body had become so used to the emotion that it didn’t even register it anymore. “Sorry,” I mumbled, taking the tissue Trace handed to me. “I don’t mean to cry. I want you to know that it means a lot to me that you’re going to do this.” “I’m honored that you’d ask me, Olivia.” His words ended in a cough and when he pulled his hand away from his mouth, blood stained his lips. “Gramps!” Trace exclaimed, jumping up and cleaning his mouth free of the red stain. “Are you okay?” “Yeah,” Gramps waved his concern away. “That happens sometimes. It’s normal.” “That doesn’t seem normal,” Trace said. “What’s normal about cancer?” Gramps countered. Neither of us could argue with that, but Trace still told me to find a nurse. The nurse I found was quick to come and check on Gramps. She assured us that he was fine and we had nothing to worry about. I wanted to argue that the man was dying so we had plenty to worry about, but that would’ve been rude. “Trace,” I rubbed his arm, “you should really go home and get some rest.” He took a deep breath and let his head fall forward into his hands. “I can’t.” “How about this, go home and shower, eat, take a nap, and then come back in a few hours? I’ll be here. You know I’ll take care of him,” I assured him. Trace looked between Gramps and me. “I don’t know.” “Trace, the last twenty-four hours have been extremely stressful. Go home and relax for a little bit. You’re no good to anyone if you’re dead on your feet,” I eyed the dark circles under his eyes. I hated seeing him this tired and stressed. “Fine,” he reluctantly agreed. “I’ll be back tonight.” He hugged Gramps goodbye and gave me a soft kiss. I handed him my car keys and he chuckled. “I get to drive the purple chick car?” “Don’t diss my car. It’s cute,” I laughed. “Kittens are cute. Cars are meant to be sexy.” “Whatever,” I laughed, taking the seat he had vacated so I’d be closer to Gramps. “See you guys soon,” he called as he left. Once the door was closed, Gramps let out a pent up breath, and said, “Good, he’s gone. I thought he’d never leave.” I snorted at that. “Was he driving you nuts?” “Are you kidding me? He was like a silly little nursemaid.” Miming Trace’s voice, he continued, “Gramps, are you thirsty? Are you hungry? Can I fluff your pillow? Do you need anything? I was tempted to ask the nurse if she could give him a tranquilizer so he’d shut up.” “Gramps,” I laughed, “that’s not very nice.” “At least you’re pretty to look at!” He exclaimed. “I’m glad I can be of some service to you,” I leaned forward. “Are you thirsty?” I asked to mess with him. He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t start now.” “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” I giggled. Crossing my legs, I asked, “Are you really okay walking me down the aisle? If it’s too much just say so.” “I’m walking you down that aisle, sweetheart. Don’t even try to talk me out of it now that you’ve asked. I don’t even know why they still have me in here,” he pointed to the bare white walls of the hospital room. “There’s nothing more they can do for me,” he looked at me sadly. “We can hope,” I reached for his hand. “When you think there’s nothing left, there’s always hope.” “I wish that was the case, Olivia. But my time has come to an end. I’m not ready, but I’ve accepted it. I am going to see you and Trace get married, though. I will make it through that.” I scooted the chair closer to the bed, so that I didn’t have to reach so far for him. “How can you be so sure?” I asked, my eyes roaming over all of the wires hooked up to him.

“Because I’m a Wentworth, and we’re a stubborn breed of male. I may be dying, but I’ll go when I say I’m ready.” “You’re something else,” I shook my head. “My grandson is a lot like me,” he chuckled. “Are you prepared to handle that for the rest of your life?” “Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “Good … I do have one request of you … okay, actually two,” he coughed. “What is it?” I asked. “First off, I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t name your firstborn son after me. Warren is a really bad name and I’d hate for the poor fellow to be stuck with it just because I had to go and die before my time. Don’t name him Trey either. Give the kid his own name,” he said gruffly, shaking a finger warningly at me. “Trace will want to be sentimental and that isn’t fair to the kid.” I couldn’t help but laugh at him. “What name would you suggest for this future firstborn son?” He pondered that for a moment. “Dean,” he finally said. “Dean Wentworth has a nice ring to it.” “I like that,” I smiled. “Dean is a good name.” “Glad you like it,” he smiled and there was a twinkle in his eye that had been missing earlier. “The second thing I need you to do, is take these,” he reached over to the opposite nightstand and grabbed two letters in envelopes. He handed them to me and I saw that one had my name on it while the other had Trace’s. “I want you to read these when … when I’m gone,” tears pooled in his eyes. “I’m giving them to you, because I knew Trace would rip them up if I gave them to him.” I stared down at the letters in my hands and my heart felt even heavier than it had before. “Gramps,” I choked, overcome by emotion. “I don’t mean to make you cry.” He pressed a shaky hand against my cheek. “But I had to give them to you.” I nodded my head in understanding. I tucked the letters away in my purse and wiped my eyes. “No more talk about dying or babies,” I cracked a smile. “Let’s do something fun … but not chess. I suck at that.” “There’s a room down the hall where the nurses have board games for patients. If you ask one of the ladies at the desk they’ll take you to it.” “Okay,” I stood. “Anything in particular you want?” “See if they have Clue,” he smiled, pushing the button on the railing of the bed to raise it. I stopped at the nurse’s station outside the room and one of them led me down the hall to a storage closet full of odds and ends. On the top shelf I spotted Clue, but since I was so short I had trouble reaching it. I found a stepstool and even with that I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach the box. I grabbed it off the shelf and headed back to Gramps’ room. “Look what I found,” I sing-songed, waving the box in front of me. When I lowered it, I saw that Gramps had fallen asleep. “Well,” I set the box on the table, “another time then.” I settled in the chair, hoping Trace had made it home and was actually relaxing like he needed to. But knowing him, I was sure that was the last thing he was doing.

“Olivia.” I hadn’t been in a very deep sleep and I jolted awake at the sound of my name. I looked around the darkened hospital room, rubbing my eyes and smearing my makeup. “Trace,” I yawned. “What time is it?” “Three,” he shrugged. “I meant to be back by midnight but I slept longer than I wanted.” I glanced at Gramps’ sleeping form and then up at my husband. “I’m too sleepy to drive back,” I stood. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” I pointed to the couch covered in plastic in the corner of the room. I knew it wouldn’t be comfortable, but I didn’t want to leave. My reasoning had nothing to do with driving, like I’d told him. It was because he looked so sad, and no one that looks like that should ever be left alone. “I can take you home and come back,” he started to pull the car keys from his pocket. “No,” I shook my head hastily, “that’s silly. I’ll be fine here. Besides, Gramps and I are going to play Clue.” “Oh, are you now?” “You wanna play?” I asked, grabbing a pillow and blanket. “You can be Colonel Ketchup.” “Isn’t in Colonel Mustard?” He chuckled. “Well, yeah, but I figured you’d like Colonel Ketchup better,” I reasoned, lying down on the couch. “That does sound like a wicked cool name. Think my mom would mind if I changed my name to Ketchup?” “I think she might be a bit mad.” “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he stretched his legs out, tapping the heels of his boots against the tile floor. He looked better than he had earlier, but I knew he was still tired. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes were heavy as he fought sleep. “Trace,” I called. “Yeah?” He looked over at me, massaging his temples. “I know this isn’t the biggest couch, but come lay down. Gramps is sleeping and you’re no good to anyone if you’re tired.” He looked over at Gramps and back at me. “Fine, but only because I’m really sleepy.” He climbed behind me on the small couch and spooned my body against his. “I missed you last night,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss to the back of my neck. “You didn’t have fun worrying the crap out of Gramps?” I giggled. “What did he tell you?” Trace groaned. “Whatever it was, he exaggerated it. I swear.” “Just that you were fussing over him.” “Of course I was. Silly old man. He acts like no one should be worried about him,” he breathed deeply.

“You know how you Wentworth men are,” I wiggled against him, trying to get comfortable, “stubborn and unwilling to take help from anyone.” “You have us all figured out, don’t you?” He chuckled softly. “In all this time I better know a few things.” Trace cleared his throat and I knew it was a classic stall tactic of his. “What is it?” I prompted. “I’ve been thinking,” he brushed my hair away from my face with a sweep of his fingers, “about our vows for the wedding.” “And?” “I think we should write our own.” It took every ounce of energy I had left in me not to yell. “Trace,” I groaned, “you know I’m not good at that kind of thing.” “We already did the traditional vows at the courthouse. I think this would be more special. Think about what it would mean to Gramps,” he pleaded. “We’re getting married in two—tomorrow,” I corrected myself, realizing that it was now morning time. “How do you expect me to come up with my own vows by then?” “You’re an English major, Olivia. This should be easy for you. Or … you could do what I plan to do, which is speak from the heart.” Ugh, when he said sweet things like that it was really hard for me to argue with him. “Fine,” I found myself agreeing. “You could sound more excited about it,” he chuckled, brushing his lips over the curve of my ear and sending a shiver down my spine. “Woohoo,” I feigned enthusiasm. “I’ll be fine as long as I remember to speak when it’s my turn, not yours.” He laughed openly at that. “That was the most adorable thing ever.” “I’m glad you think my mistakes are adorable,” I grumbled, still embarrassed about my outburst in the courthouse. “I think everything about you is adorable.” “That’s what every twenty-two year old woman wants to be told, Trace,” I said sarcastically. “My bad. How about beautiful?” His voice grew husky. “That’s better,” a small laugh escaped me. “Sexy?” He questioned, leaning up to look down at me. He swiped a thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes warm and full of love. “Even better,” I smiled, my eyes falling closed. “Goodnight,” he finally whispered, his lips brushing against my ear as he settled back down. “Night,” the word left my lips as my body succumbed to sleep.

“It was Professor Plum, in the kitchen, with the knife,” I announced proudly, knowing I’d solved the ‘murder’. Gramps and Trace looked at their cards, shaking their heads. “Here,” Trace slid the yellow envelope my way. I grabbed it, pulling out the three cards I had correctly guessed. “I win!” I cheered. “And you’ve also won the last five games,” Trace grumbled, shuffling the cards. “Aw, someone sounds like a sore loser. Does this make it better?” I kissed his stubbled cheek. “A little,” he grinned crookedly. There was a knock on the hospital door and then Lily stepped inside. She smiled widely when she saw the three of us. “Having fun?” She asked, setting her purse down. “Yeah,” Trace smiled, “except Olivia keeps winning.” “That’s because women are smarter than men,” Lily quipped. “Thanks mom,” Trace chuckled, pretending to be wounded by her words. “You wanna play?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I actually need to steal Olivia for a bit.” “Steal her?” Trace put an arm around my shoulders and tugged me towards him. “I kind of like her mom.” “You’re so full of it,” she rolled her eyes at her son. “What do you need me for?” I asked, not wanting to leave Gramps. “You have to pick the cake today and get your nails done.” I wrinkled my nose in distaste. Picking out a cake would be fine, but I hated getting my nails done. “Do I have to?” Lily laughed. “Yes, I’m sorry.” I frowned, looking for any excuse not to go, but came up empty. “Looks like I have to leave,” I apologized to Gramps. “I’ll be back later if I can.” “Don’t worry about me,” he assured me, opening his arms for a hug. I wrapped my arms around his body, wishing I never had to let go. “I love you, Gramps,” I kissed his soft wrinkled cheek. “I love you too, sweet girl.” I said goodbye to Trace and followed Lily out of the room. Trent was coming down the hall as we left and I waved to him. Lily drove us to a small bakery in Kernstown. I wasn’t picky when it came to cake, so I was more concerned with getting something Trace would like … but I knew he was like me and didn’t really care which made my job more difficult. How was I supposed to pick one flavor when we’d like any of them? “I don’t know,” I frowned at the half-eaten samples in front of me. I had to make up my mind fast so they could get the cake ready for tomorrow evening’s reception. On the way over, Lily had told me that we would exchange vows at sunset with the reception taking place right after. “What do you think, Lily?” I asked my mother-in-law. “They’re all really good,” she agreed, “but I’m thinking the chocolate.” “Chocolate sounds good to me,” I quickly replied. Next we had to pick out the type of frosting and decorations for the cake. We settled on a white buttercream frosting with flowers going down one side. “You got it,” the baker jotted some notes down on a piece of paper. “I have everything I need. If I’ve forgotten anything I’ll be sure to call you.” We shook hands with her and headed to the nail salon next. I was tempted to climb out of the back of the car and run away, but Lily probably wouldn’t appreciate that, so I was stuck having to tough it out. Avery and my mom were already in chairs starting their pedicures. Lily and I headed over to join them. “You look tired,” Avery commented as I took the chair beside her. “I am tired. Sleeping on an uncomfortable hospital couch will do that to you,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “You need to get some sleep tonight, you know, with tomorrow being the big day and all,” she wiggled her toes under the water, watching the bubbles foam around her feet. “Um, the big day has already passed,” I shrugged. “Yeah, but this is like the real wedding,” she reasoned. “Oh shit!” I exclaimed suddenly, causing Avery, my mom, and Lily to turn my way. Their eyes were wide as they stared at me in shock. I wasn’t one to cuss and had taken them all by surprise. “I don’t have a ring for Trace,” I exclaimed, fighting tears. How had I forgotten to get him a ring? I was the suckiest wife ever. “It’s okay,” Avery assured me. “I’ll take you to Marcy’s when we leave here.” “Thank you,” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Wait, where is everyone?” I looked around the eerily empty nail salon. “Aren’t there normally more people getting their nails done?” I gulped, imagining that people had contracted some strange nail fungus, never to return to this place again. Lily laughed at the expression on my face. “I rented it out for a few hours so it would only be us. You have nothing to be worried about.” “Oh,” I wiggled in the plush seat, feeling silly. “That was nice of you.” “Avery said you hate getting your nails done so I thought this might make it a little more tolerable.” It warmed my heart that Lily had taken that into consideration. I was lucky to have married into her

family and I was glad that we didn’t have a relationship like some daughters and mother-in-laws. It took a few hours to get our nails and toes done. I ended up choosing a sheer pink color. As we left the nail salon I followed Avery to her red car. On the way to Marcy’s store, I told her about Trace wanting us to make up our own vows. “I think that’s a great idea,” she beamed. “It’s really sweet and romantic.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Where’s my best friend that would normally gag at something like this? I think I want her back.” “I’m in love too,” she laughed. “I understand it now, and I think you should.” “I don’t even know what I would say,” my head dropped forward into my hands. “Speak from the heart,” she replied. “You make that sound so easy,” I glanced at her between my fingers. “But you know how I am, and I don’t like the idea of expressing my feelings in front of a bunch of people.” “You’re not,” she shrugged. “You’re telling them to Trace. He’s the only one that matters in this situation. You need to get up there and forget that everyone else exists. Look at him and tell him how you feel. That’s it, Livie.” “When did you get so smart?” I laughed. “I’ve always been this smart,” she replied with a wicked smile, “you prefer not to take my advice. Which is ridiculous, because it’s really good advice.” “Like not wearing a sweatshirt?” “I can’t help it that Trace is immune to the sweatshirt rule. You must be really good in bed or something. I don’t understand it.” We ended up giggling at her words. I was so happy to have my best friend back. Before we left on our road trip I’d feared that the Avery I knew and loved was gone forever. She had never been so … depressed before. I was glad that she’d told me why and we were able to move past it. I hated what happened to her, but it really did explain so much about her personality. “I’ve missed you,” I reached over to hug her once she parked at Marcy’s shop. She hugged me back. “Missed me? I’ve always been right here, Livie.” I shook my head. “No, for a while there you weren’t, and I really missed you.” “Don’t make me cry, Livie, this took a while,” she pointed to all the makeup on her face. I rolled my eyes and opened the car door. Alba was working in the front of the store and when she saw me she called for her mom. “You’re back!” Marcy exclaimed, coming around the counter to hug me. “I’m so sorry that this is so last minute but I need a ring for Trace … by tomorrow,” I bit my lip nervously, worried that she might be mad. “Tomorrow?” She raised a brow. “Yeah,” I nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “You see, Trace’s grandpa is dying … and we kind of got married while we were gone, but we’re having a ceremony tomorrow so the whole family can be there. I want you and Alba to come, of course. There wasn’t time to send out invitations. I’m sorry. Please, don’t be mad at me,” I rambled uncontrollably. “Silly girl,” she patted my cheek like an affectionate mother. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” “I feel bad.” “Nope,” she shook her head, “no feeling bad.” “Do you think you’ll be able to make a ring that soon?” I asked, wringing my fingers together. “I hope you don’t mind,” she smiled bashfully, “but when Trace got your rings I—uh—felt inspired and I kind of already made one for him. If you hate it, I’ll make a new one today. Don’t be worried about hurting my feelings,” she took my hand, dragging me to the back of the store. Avery followed behind me, gawking at all the unique pieces of jewelry. Marcy opened one of her desk drawers and pulled out a black box. She took the lid off and dumped the ring into the palm of her hand. “Here,” she handed it to me. I gasped when I looked at the ring in my hand. It was perfect for Trace. It was so unique, I had never seen anything else like it, but that was Marcy’s specialty so I shouldn’t have been surprised. “It’s made of pure titanium, that’s what gives it that brownish gray color, and those stripes there are rose gold,” she explained. “It’s beautiful, Marcy,” I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug. “Thank you, it’s perfect,” I

stared down at the ring in awe once more. “Are you sure?” She questioned, eyeing me. “If you don’t like it, say so. You’re not hurting my feelings.” “Honestly,” I smiled widely, “it’s exactly what I would have wanted him to have.” “Good, I’m glad,” she clapped her hands together. “Now,” she leaned a hip against her desk, “what do you expect me to wear to this last minute wedding?” I frowned, feeling bad that everything had to be so rushed. “I don’t care,” I said in all sincerity. “Wear that if you want,” I pointed to her rainbow colored hippie skirt and white top. “I’m just messing with you,” she squeezed my arm. “I have a dress somewhere that will be suitable, and I’ll drag Alba with me kicking and screaming if I have to.” “You won’t have to drag me,” Alba spoke up from behind me. “Good, then maybe you’ll see their wedding and decide it’s time for you to have one of your own,” Marcy eyed her daughter. “Mom,” Alba groaned, “I’m not even dating anyone.” “My point exactly. You’re not getting any younger and neither are your ovaries.” “Mom!” Alba exclaimed, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “My love life is none of your business.” “Well,” Marcy put her hands on her hips, “I wouldn’t have to fret over it so much if you had one. Then I’d leave you alone.” “Oh, please,” Alba rolled her eyes, “I doubt that.” “Get a man, then we’ll see who’s right,” Marcy smiled triumphantly when Alba rolled her eyes and left the room. “So, Trace’s grandpa isn’t going to make it?” She turned back to me with sadness in her eyes. “No,” my lower lip trembled as I fought tears. “Aw, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” Marcy hugged me. “Y’all will get through this just fine. I know it.” “I know we will.” But how long would it be before we were okay again?

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening at the hospital with Gramps, Trent, and Trace. The doctor didn’t want to let Gramps leave tomorrow, but he was adamant. “I’m going home, walking this beauty down the aisle, eating cake, and then getting in my bed to die. Don’t mess with my plan,” he warned the doctor with a steely gaze in his eyes. “Mr. Wentworth, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. You need—” “You have no right to tell me what I need. I’m dying and I refuse to do that in this bed that sounds like it’s breathing. Forget tomorrow, I want out tonight,” he started trying to pull the IVs from his arm. “Gramps,” Trent tried to restrain him. “You can’t do that.” “I can do whatever the hell I want and I want out of here,” Gramps demanded. “I don’t want to be in this place a second longer. We all know I’m dying, so why must I be stuck here. I’m going home, and going to bed.” The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll see what I can do.” “And while you’re at it, can you get someone to take this needle out of my arm?” The doctor shook his head and left the room. I was sure they’d never had a patient quite like Warren. “Gramps, stop that,” Trent pried one of Gramps’ arms away from the other. “You can’t do that.” “I want this out and I want to go home,” he tried to push himself into a sitting position. The door opened to the room, yet again, but instead of the doctor, it was Ellie. I knew from Trace that she’d been here this afternoon. I kept missing her when she was here and I wondered how she was holding up. The look on her face told me she wasn’t taking this well. She looked like she’d aged ten years in a matter of days. She strode over to her husband and kissed him, despite the audience. “How are you feeling?” She asked, looking him over. “Like I want to go home,” he coughed. “And I really want this stupid thing out of my arm,” he tugged on the IV wire.

“I’ll get you out of here,” she smiled at her husband, her eyes roaming over every feature like she was trying to memorize him. An hour later, all the paperwork had been signed and we wheeled Gramps out of the hospital. Trent said goodbye and headed over to his own car. Trace and I helped Ellie get Gramps into the car and then watched them drive away. Trace draped an arm over my shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Let’s go home and get Ace, then stay the night at the mansion.” I nodded. “Sounds like a good idea to me.” Once we were home, we showered and packed a change of clothes. Ace watched us curiously as Trace gathered up his food bowl and toys. “We’re going on a short trip,” Trace explained to the dog, and I watched him while trying to hide my laugh. “What?” He asked, when he noticed me snickering by the door. “Nothing … I just think it’s cute when you talk to the dog like that,” I shrugged. He shook his head, fighting a smile. “The dog deserves to know what’s happening.” Ace looked between the two of us, tilting his head, like he knew exactly what we were saying. “You got everything you need?” Trace asked, carrying his bag over to the door, along with the stuff for Ace. “Yeah, that’s why I’m standing by the door ready to go.” “Oooh, someone’s being sassy, maybe I should spank you for that,” he curled his body around mine, grabbing my butt. “Down boy,” I pushed a hand against his chest. “Aw, you ruin all my fun,” he nuzzled my neck “Just trying to keep my virtue intact until tomorrow night,” I joked, wrapping my arms around his neck. He chuckled, nibbling on my chin. “Baby, I’m pretty sure I ruined you a long time ago.” “It was worth it,” I whispered, my eyes falling closed as he pressed his lips lightly against mine. “Everything with you has been worth it.” “Everything?” His lips skimmed down my neck and his stubble scratched my skin. I nodded. He grabbed my legs and forced them around his waist. “I really wish you were wearing a skirt right now, so I could take you against this door.” I shivered at his words, instantly turned on. “When has that ever stopped you?” “Good point,” he claimed my mouth with his. It really hadn’t been that long since he’d held me and kissed me like this, but it felt like forever. My body craved his like flowers needed the sun to survive. We were both frantic, clawing at each other’s clothes like wild animals. We’d never been like this before … I kind of liked it. We were so desperate that most of our clothes stayed on. He yanked my shorts and panties roughly out of the way and before I could get my bearings he was thrusting inside of me. “Oh fuck,” he groaned against my neck, steadying his hold on me so that we didn’t go tumbling to the floor. “You feel so good.” He kissed me and whispered against the skin of my neck, “I’ve missed you so much.” “Why?” My breath came out raggedly. “I’ve been right here.” “I know … but with … everything … going on …” “I understand,” I interrupted, wishing he’d shut up. He seemed to get the message. Minutes later, or maybe it was hours, we found ourselves slumped on the floor, exhausted. I was cradled on his chest, with my head tucked beneath his chin. I was so tired that I didn’t plan on moving until I absolutely had to. “That was …” He started. “Amazing,” I finished. He chuckled. “I was going to say ‘different’ but that works too.” He brushed his fingers through my hair and my eyes closed sleepily. “We should probably go,” he announced. “I’m not moving,” I locked my arms around his neck. “You can’t make me.”

“Oh, I can,” his fingers inched under my shirt and he began to tickle me. “Trace! Stop!” I giggled, squirming and falling off of him. “Get your pants on, we have to go,” he chuckled, standing and pulling his pants up with him and fastening the belt. “I did have my pants on … until you took them off,” I pouted, still on the floor. He grabbed my shorts and panties from where they’d been tossed and dropped them on top of me. “Thanks, you’re so nice,” I said sarcastically as I put my clothes back on. He smiled boyishly and held out a hand to haul me up. “I am nice. I counted three orgasms.” “What does that have to do with you being nice?” I raised a brow, prying myself from his arms before we got carried away again. “You know,” he leaned against the wall, “it proves that I’m a very generous lover.” “God,” I rolled my eyes, “you are so full of yourself.” “That’s what you like to tell me,” he opened the door and picked up our bags. “Does your mom know we’re coming?” I asked. “No,” he shrugged, stopping outside the door to look at me. “But it’s technically my house, so it’s not like I need to call and ask for permission. I’ll text her if it makes you feel better.” “It would,” I nodded. “I don’t want them to think someone is breaking into the house, and we didn’t mention to your grandparents that we were coming so it’s not like they told her.” “Take a breath,” he chuckled. “I’ll let her know. You have nothing to worry about.” “Sorry,” I forced a laugh. “I’m being silly, aren’t I?” “Kind of,” he started down the steps. “Get Ace and meet me at the car.” I turned to find Ace watching me with curious eyes. The poor dog had watched everything that had went down between Trace and me minutes before. “Sorry, bud,” I shrugged, “but he’s hot and I can’t seem to help myself around him.” I squatted down and scratched behind his ears. “Let’s go.”

I cracked my eyes open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. We’d stayed at the mansion a few times in Trace’s childhood room, but it still seemed strange to be here, surrounded by high school memorabilia and trinkets of his past. I sat up, shoving the sheets off of me, and drawing my knees up to my chest. I was getting married today. Okay, that wasn’t right. We were already married, but I had no idea what the proper term for this would be. But I was giddy, knowing that this time our families would be present. I really hoped Gramps would be okay to walk me down the aisle. I hated to think that he might be pushing himself. I knew he was stubborn though, and nothing, not even his cancer, would stop him from walking me down that aisle. “What are you doing up?” Trace asked groggily, lying on his stomach. “I’m excited,” I shrugged. He cracked a smile and eased his eyes open. “It would probably be a bad sign if you weren’t.” “Yeah,” I laughed, “especially since I already married you,” I trailed a finger down his bare back and he shivered. “Good point,” he rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling with a serious look on his face. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Nothing,” he shook his head. But then explained, “I was thinking about how … before I met you, I never thought about getting married or anything like that. But once I met you,” he rolled to his side and pulled me down beside him, “all of that changed.” “Why do you think that is?” I asked, staring at his chest so I could avoid his intense gaze. “Maybe,” he rolled on top of me, staring down at me as I squirmed beneath him, “there are certain people that are meant to be together. If that exists, I know we are,” he cupped my cheek. “We were waiting for each other.” “Like … soul mates?” He shrugged. “I don’t know … that sounds a bit too far-fetched, but … maybe.” “I believe we were meant to be, too,” I told him. “And I’m happy that we didn’t rush into a relationship. We got to know each other as friends first, and that’s made us a stronger couple. Don’t tell Avery,” I grinned, “but you’re my best friend. I know I can tell you anything and you won’t judge me. You’ll listen to what I have to say and give me your honest opinion. A lot of couples don’t have that, but we do. We’re lucky, Trace.” “I know,” he kissed me, “believe me, I know.”

After we’d all eaten breakfast together, Lily insisted on separating Trace and me. It wasn’t long until Avery, Luca, my mom, and Nick arrived. “Hi,” I greeted Luca, hugging him. “Hey.” “I’m glad to see you two got things worked out,” I whispered in his ear, so Avery wouldn’t overhear, and let him go. “Me too,” he nodded. “Trace is in his room,” I pointed at the stairs. “Lily told him he had to stay in there until she told him he could come out.” Luca chuckled, running his fingers through his wavy light brown hair. “Is he in trouble or something?” “I think she’s afraid he might try to see me in my dress. But the wedding isn’t until tonight, so I don’t know why she’d be so worried about that,” I shrugged. “I’ll go hang out with him,” Luca started for the stairs, but turned around and kissed Avery. My heart melted at the look he gave her. Luca was … weird, but he was a nice guy, and I knew he loved Avery. If she messed up their relationship again I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from kicking her. “Why are you guys already here?” I addressed Avery, my mom, and Nick. Nick held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me.” “We’re here to help you get ready,” Avery rolled her eyes. “Why else would we be here?” “It’s ten in the morning, the ceremony isn’t until eight-thirty tonight,” I looked at my watch, calculating the hours. “It’s not going to take me that long to get ready.” “Oh yes, it is,” Avery took my hand, dragging me upstairs. “How do you know where you’re going?” I asked. As far as I knew, Avery had never been here before … at least not with me. But maybe she’d come with Luca. “Who do you think has been helping Lily with everything? Honestly, Livie, you can be so dumb,” she shook her head. She opened a set of double doors that led into a guestroom. The bag my wedding dress was in already laid on the bed, along with Avery’s garment bag. There was even a hair and makeup station set up. “Go shower,” Avery pushed me towards the bathroom, handing me a robe to put on. “The hairdresser will be here within the hour.” She closed the doors behind me and I was left alone in the massive bathroom. I looked around at the expensive touches, wondering why on earth anyone would spend so much money on a guest bathroom. I guess when you had billions of dollars you didn’t think about those things. When I’d found out about Trace’s family, I’d wondered why he didn’t live so elegantly. An apartment above a garage was hardy the typical billionaire bachelor pad, but that was Trace for you. There was nothing typical about him. The whole family didn’t act any different because they had money and you had to respect them for that. So many people let money go to their heads, but not the Wentworth’s. In fact, they were some of the nicest most caring people I had ever met. I think they understood that money isn’t everything. For them, family was the most important thing. Once I was clean and my whole body smelled like vanilla, I stepped out of the shower, dried myself off and wrapped myself in the fluffy robe. When I opened the door, Avery stood there with her fist raised and ready to knock. “‘Bout time,” she flounced away. I shook my head and smiled at the woman I assumed was there to do my hair. My mom and Lily lounged on the bed, looking at jewelry. “I’m Nikki,” the woman held her hand out to me. “I’ll be doing your hair and makeup, as well as theirs,” she motioned to the others in the room. “Do you have anything in particular in mind?” I sat down in the chair, facing my reflection. I hadn’t given it much thought. “Um …” I stalled. “Could you do something with a braid, but leave some of it down?” She nodded. “Sure.” She went to work drying and curling my hair. I kept my eyes closed so I wouldn’t overthink what she was doing and freak out. She began to twist my hair to the side, braiding it, and left a few pieces to frame my face. “Open your eyes,” she said a few minutes later. “Oh, wow,” I gasped, turning my head from side to side. She had done an amazing job and I knew my

minimal details had been less than helpful. “It’s beautiful, thank you.” “I’m glad you like it. Now what about for your makeup?” “Something soft and romantic,” I answered before Avery could spit something out. She sent a glare my way for ruining her plan. “Nothing dramatic,” I begged. I closed my eyes once more and let Nikki go to work. The more time that passed, the giddier I felt. It didn’t seem like we were getting married again, it felt like the first time, which made me both excited and nervous. Nikki finished with me and then started on Avery’s hair and makeup. I sat on a chair in the corner, nervously tapping my fingers on the arms. The door to the room cracked open and I gasped. “Grandma!” After the news of Gramps being in the hospital, and having to plan a wedding in a few days, I’d completely forgotten that Trace said he’d fly them out. I couldn’t believe with everything he’d been dealing with that he’d been the one to remember. I hugged her tightly. I was so happy to see her and I hoped she knew that. “Everyone, this is Margaret, my grandma. Grandma, this is my best friend Avery,” I pointed at my best friend who was currently getting false lashes glued on. I was glad I hadn’t had to do that. “Lily, Trace’s mom. And lastly, that’s my mom, Nora.” Margaret surprised me by striding right up to my mom and hugging her. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. My mom’s eyes widened but she was quick to return the hug. “It’s nice to meet you, Margaret.” “Call me, Maggie, please.” I smiled, pleased to see my mom and grandma getting along. I had feared there might be some animosity there, since my mom had kept me a secret from them. “Your grandpa and Dex are with Trace,” Maggie turned to me. “And Ella is here too. Cecilia, I believe her name was, took her to the kitchen to get something to eat.” “I can’t wait to meet, Ella.” I thought of the cute little girl in the picture Dex had shown me. “She’s very excited to meet you,” Maggie smiled. “I need to go find, Trace. I’ll be right back.” “Why do you—” The door closed behind her and it was too late for me to finish my question. “I wonder what that’s about,” I shrugged. Deciding not to dwell on it, I sat back down, glancing at the clock. It was close to lunchtime, and there were still hours until the wedding, but suddenly I wished I could make time go faster … even though I was going to have to say my own vows. I still didn’t have any plan for what I would say, but I wasn’t nervous about it anymore. Once I got up there and saw him it would come to me then. The door opened again and Cecilia entered with a tray of food for everyone and a small girl clinging to her legs. Wide dark brown eyes met mine and I crouched in front of the girl. “Hi,” I said softly, “are you, Ella?” She nodded her head slowly, looking up at Cecilia for reassurance. I held out a hand and she placed her smaller one in my palm. “I’m Olivia. Do you know who I am?” She nodded again and let go of Cecilia. “Daddy says you’re my cousin,” her voice was quiet. She was the cutest kid I had ever seen. She couldn’t have been much older than five. “That’s true,” I smiled warmly. “What does that mean?” She asked. “It means,” I ran a finger over her soft cheek, “that my daddy and your daddy were brothers.” “But daddy’s brother isn’t here,” she tilted her head questioningly. “No, he’s not.” I didn’t elaborate, since I was unsure of how much Ella knew about Derek. “You’re pretty,” she touched the side of my face with her small hand, then touched a piece of my hair. “I want to look like you when I grow up.” “Well, thank you,” I laughed. “That’s a very nice compliment.” “Do you know where my grandma is?” She looked around the room. “She left for a bit but she’ll be right back,” I explained. “Would you like to wait with me?” She nodded, clutching my hand tighter. She looked over at Avery as Nikki pulled her hair into a bun with braids on each side. “Can she make my hair pretty?” Ella asked me. I looked to Nikki for confirmation before I said anything. “Sure sweetie.”

“I want my hair to be pretty like yours,” she gently grabbed one of the springy curls. “I can make that happen,” Nikki smiled at the little girl. “Thank you,” Ella squeaked, hiding shyly behind my legs. “You want to meet my mom?” I asked her. She nodded and let me lead her over to the bed. “That’s my mom, Nora, and Trace’s mom, Lily.” “Hi, Ella,” my mom smiled kindly at the little girl. “Ella is such a pretty name,” Lily said. “Thank you,” Ella poked her head out from behind my legs. “Who’s Trace?” “Trace is going to be my husband,” I explained. “Oh,” her small lips formed an O. “Can I see your dress?” “Sure,” I helped her onto the chair. I unzipped the garment bag and held up the dress for her inspection. “What do you think?” “You’re gonna look like a princess,” she clapped her hands together. “I want to be a princess when I grow up and live in a biiiig house just like this … Are you really a princess? Is this a castle?” She looked around in awe. “Nope, not a princess,” I shook my head. “And this house is really big, but it’s not a castle.” She frowned. “It would be cool if you were a princess.” “That would be cool,” I agreed. “I like your shoes,” I tapped the end of her toes, covered by shiny pink sandals. “My mommy got them for me.” Maggie came back into the room and smiled when she saw Ella and I together. “Look at my two girls,” she beamed. “Grandma, that lady is going to make my hair pretty like—” She looked at me questioningly, unsure how to say my name. “Olivia,” I supplied. “Like Olivia’s,” Ella nodded proudly, pleased that she said my name correctly. “Isn’t that nice,” Maggie clapped her hands together. “What did you need to see Trace for?” I asked, still curious. “Oh nothing,” she ignored me. I sighed. I should have been used to the fact that no one ever wanted to tell me anything. I had forgotten about the sandwiches Cecilia had brought into the room, but when my eyes landed on them I was suddenly ravenous. “Do you want a sandwich, Ella?” She nodded her head, pushing her thick bangs out of her eyes. I grabbed a plate for each of us and sat down on the floor beside her. Nikki did my mom and Lily’s hair and makeup then they left to help set up for the wedding. I wanted to see how everything was coming together, since I really hadn’t had much part in anything, but Lily insisted on it being a surprise. Even Trace didn’t know what it would look like, which made me feel a bit better about being left out of the loop. Nikki braided Ella’s hair to the side and added some pale pink gloss to her lips so she didn’t feel left out. She even took the time to work her magic on my grandma. I tried to keep my eyes away from the clock, but it was hard not to. Especially when the sounds of guests arriving echoed through the large home. My mom and Lily returned to get in their dresses and before I knew it, it was time to put mine on. They buttoned the back of the dress and I eyed my reflection. I looked like a bride … that was kind of the point, but seeing the whole look come together left me breathless. Lily handed me a bouquet of orchids and said, “Showtime.” I swallowed thickly, trying to gather my breath. “Gramps will meet you downstairs,” Lily took my arm, guiding me out of the room. Maybe I looked faint or something and that’s why she felt the need to hold onto me. I didn’t feel like I was going to pass out, but my stomach was definitely upset. Lily handed me off to Gramps, and Avery was the only one left behind. “Ready, baby girl?” Gramps asked me, smiling proudly at me. I nodded. “Trace is going to piss his pants.”

That got me to laugh, which was what he was aiming for. I threaded my arm through his and said, “I’m glad you’re the one doing this. I wouldn’t want anyone else.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His skin was still unusually pale, but he actually looked healthier than he had in the hospital. “I’m honored,” he kissed my cheek. “You look nice,” I took in his light gray suit. An orchid that matched my bouquet was stuck in the lapel. “Not as nice as you,” he chuckled. “All eyes will be on you.” That’s what I was afraid of. I gulped at his words as we followed Avery to the open French doors. We stepped outside onto a walkway made of white rose petals, it snaked around the property, and when we reached a certain point Avery stopped, waiting for our cue to continue forward. Luca sauntered up and offered her his arm. “Breathe,” Gramps whispered. The air gusted out of my lungs at his words. I had nothing to be nervous about. I took a deep breath, raising my chin. The music started up and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I was glad I had Gramps at my side. He was the one dying, but he was also the one keeping me strong. We followed the flowered pathway and I gasped when we rounded the trees. Jars, covered in different colored tissue paper, had little candles lit inside them. They were everywhere, casting the yard with a pretty glow. The chairs had flowers wrapped around them and at the end of the aisle, Trace stood on the steps of a wooden gazebo. The gazebo was wrapped in twinkling lights and flowers. But my eyes were glued to Trace. He was looking at me with his mouth slightly open. He wore a pair of black dress pants and a white button down shirt. Even though I’d joked about him wearing a tux, I was glad he was more casual. His hair was slightly damp and brushed away from his face. Stubble still dotted his cheeks, but not as much as had been there this morning. “Told you,” Gramps chuckled at my side. We walked slowly down the aisle as Gramps struggled to put one foot in front of the other, but I didn’t mind. I wanted Gramps to be the one to do this and if it took us ten minutes to reach Trace, so be it. Luca stood beside Trace and leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Trace punched him roughly in the arm for whatever he’d said. Luca’s lips quirked up into a smile as he shook his head Finally, we reached the gazebo, and since there was no need to have anyone officiate the wedding Gramps kissed my hand before placing it in Trace’s. “I love you both,” Gramps coughed, a single tear falling down his cheek. “I love you too,” I whispered, kissing the tear away. “Love you, Gramps,” Trace kissed his other cheek. Cameras snapped somewhere, capturing the moment. I stepped up beside Trace and Gramps sat down. “You look beautiful,” Trace murmured, his eyes gazing over my whole body. “You’re not too bad yourself,” I whispered. He chuckled, shaking his head. He glanced out at the crowd and back to me. “I guess we better get on with it. You know, since they’re waiting and all.” “Oh, right,” I blushed, glancing out at the guests. Geez, did we really know all those people? “Olivia,” Trace spoke loudly so that everyone gathered heard his words, “when I met you, I didn’t know I was going to fall in love with you and make you my wife, but I did know that you were going to change my life,” he squeezed my hands. “You were so shy when I first met you, and I loved making you blush,” he released one of my hands and rubbed his thumb over my cheek. “I still love making you blush. I love making you smile and laugh. It makes my life worthwhile. You make my life better, Olivia. I didn’t know what I was missing until you came into my life. I know you think that I’ve taught you how to live, but it’s the other way around,” he swallowed thickly. “You own my heart, keep it safe.” He took my left hand and slipped a ring on. It was beautiful and elegant, with diamonds going all the way around it. His words were still sinking in and my emotions were getting the best of me. “You made me cry,” I released his hands to dab at my face. The guests laughed at my words, but I didn’t care. “Sorry,” he smiled, and I was surprised to see tears in his eyes too.

I took a deep breath and let the words spill out of me. “There’s not much I can say after that,” I took his hands once more, “but I’m going to try.” I closed my eyes and wet my lips. “I believe that fate brought us together, because we both needed each other. You intimidated me at first with your cocky flirtatious remarks,” I laughed, “but I saw past that to the guy underneath and I fell in love with him … with you. I was scared of the things I felt for you, since I’d never experienced anything like it before. But I let myself fall, and it’s been the most exhilarating ride of my life. I love that you push me to try new things. I love that you listen to me, trust me, and respect me. We’re equals in every way. And today, I vow to love you with my whole heart, for the rest of my life.” I took his ring from Avery and slipped it onto his finger. It filled me with satisfaction and love to see that symbol of our union on his finger. “God, I love you,” he grasped my face between his large hands and kissed me passionately. Claps, catcalls, and laughter echoed around us, but in that moment it was just the two of us. He pulled away and placed a soft kiss on the end of my nose. Taking my hand, we started back down the aisle. “She’s Mrs. Wentworth now!” He yelled, raising our arms in the air. Everyone cheered at his words and I, of course, blushed at the unwanted attention. “Wasn’t I already Mrs. Wentworth?” I looked up at him. “Yeah, but now you have my ring on your finger, so it’s official,” he reasoned. We didn’t make it very far before we were confronted by a photographer, eager to begin taking pictures of us and the rest of the family. I smiled and posed as directed. Lots of pictures were taken with Gramps, and it made me sad knowing the reason why. But at least when he was gone, we’d be able to look back at these pictures and smile at the fact that we got to share this moment with him. After nearly an hour of photo taking it was time for the real party to begin. Tables were set up on the expansive property and more jar lanterns covered the tables and grass. I gasped at the all the silver origami stars adorning the tables. “Did you get my grandma to do this?” I asked Trace, clinging to his hand as he led us to the largest table. “Of course,” he grinned. “I thought it was appropriate.” “There’s so many,” I eyed all the tables. “It must have taken forever.” “A few hours,” Maggie said from behind me. “Thank you,” I hugged her. “They’re beautiful and special.” “I had fun making them,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “Plus, it makes me feel like a piece of your dad is here with us.” I smiled at that and sat down in the chair Trace pulled out for me. He took the seat beside me with Gramps and the rest of his family beside him. My grandpa was on my other side, then my grandma, mom, Nick, Dex, and Ella. I knew I did the right thing having Gramps walk me down the aisle, but I felt bad for my grandpa. I mean, he was my own family and I hated to think I might have hurt his feelings by not asking him. “Grandpa?” I leaned over and whispered in his ear. “What, sweetie?” He smiled kindly, leaning back as servers set plates on the table. I clasped my hands together, my fingernails digging into my skin. “I hope you aren’t mad that I didn’t ask you to walk me down the aisle.” I looked down, avoiding his eyes. “Of course I’m not mad,” he forced my chin up with a finger. “I understand. Now, if you don’t dance with me tonight, I might get mad then.” He chuckled so I knew he was messing with me. “I think I can manage a dance,” I assured him. “I’m looking forward to it,” he patted my cheek affectionately. I spotted a family at a nearby table and elbowed Trace in the side. He choked on a bite of food and glared at me. “Woman, couldn’t you have waited for me to finish?” “Sorry,” I laughed as he took a sip of water. “But is that Marcus and his family?” I pointed to the man that looked suspiciously like the one that had helped talk me into jumping off a bridge. “Yep,” Trace smiled proudly. “I flew them in.” Shrugging, he explained, “I know they’re not family or anything, but meeting them on the road and connecting with them was nice. I wanted them to come.” “You’re a good man, Trace Wentworth,” I grasped his knee and leaned over to kiss him softly. “Because of you I’ll always try to be a better man,” he whispered, gazing at me thoughtfully. I leaned my head on his shoulder, unconcerned about eating my meal. All that mattered to me was

this moment that we were surrounded by everyone we loved.

The cutting of the cake went about as well as I expected. Trace shoved cake in my face and I got mad and tried to climb on his back. We both ended up falling on the floor, much to the amusement of the guests. But hey, that was Trace and I for you, and we definitely weren’t normal. After we cleaned our faces of cake, and Trace changed his shirt since cake got smeared on that, it was time for our first dance as a couple. When they announced us as Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth, my heart skipped a beat. I still wasn’t used to the fact that I was married and he was my husband. It seemed so surreal. How had I gotten so lucky? I guessed the fact of the matter was I wasn’t that lucky. I hadn’t had the best childhood, the man I’d believed was my father tried to kill me, and there had been plenty of other bumps in the road. Despite everything I had been through, I still felt blessed, and it was because of the man that stood at my side. “Shall we?” He held out his hand for me and guided me onto the dance floor that was made of more white rose petals. Lily had done an amazing job of making the wedding simple but elegant. Wedding planning might be her superpower. He swayed us to the music, looking into my eyes. His gaze sent a shiver down my spine. “You know,” he whispered, his lips brushing over the curve of my ear, “now that we’re married, there’s something I should probably tell you.” “Tell me what?” I eyed him worriedly. He smiled crookedly. “I lied.” “You lied,” I repeated. “About what?” My heart raced in my chest. What could he have possibly lied about? “When I said I can’t dance, that was a lie,” he whispered. I snorted, relief flooding my veins. “I’ve seen you dance and it looks like you’re having a seizure.” “Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “I like to dance like that because I can. But growing up here,” he gestured behind me to the mansion, “we were always having fancy parties so Trent and I had to know how to dance.” I laughed, shaking my head. “So, all this time you wanted me to believe you couldn’t dance?” I asked him. “No,” he shrugged. “I enjoy dancing like I’ve lost all control of my body,” he chuckled. “It’s freeing. Formal dancing is boring, but I can do it.” “Any other secrets you should let me in on?” I tilted my head as he swirled me around. He shook his head. “You know all my secrets now.” His fingers found my wedding ring and he twisted it around my finger unconsciously, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You like that, don’t you?” I suppressed a laugh. He nodded, looking down at me. “Even more than this,” he took my hand off his shoulder and kissed my wrist where the tattoo of his name was emblazoned. He’d said the same thing when we’d gotten engaged. It pleased me to know that he was happy to be married to me. “I have to agree with you,” I smiled, laying my head against his chest as more couples began to join us on the dance floor. “Good.” His chest rumbled against my ear with the word. We danced to two more songs and then my grandpa was tapping on Trace’s shoulder. “May I have a turn?” He asked. “Certainly,” Trace handed me off and left the dance floor. “Hey, grandpa,” I smiled. “I’m really glad you guys could make it.” “That husband of yours is pretty amazing,” he shook his head. “He made sure we got here okay.” I looked over my shoulder at Trace, smiling as I watched him introduce himself to Ella. “I love him.” “And he loves you,” my grandpa said. “It’s obvious in the way he looks at you.” “So,” I smiled sadly, “when are you guys heading back?” “Our flight leaves tomorrow,” he frowned. “Maggie can’t be away from the store too long.” “Of course. I understand. I hope we can see each other soon,” my grip on his shoulders tightened. I

hated to say goodbye to them again. It seemed so unfair to finally have them in my life, only to live so far apart. “I hope so too.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. I was then passed off to Marcus, who I was really happy to see. “How did Trace talk you guys into coming?” I asked him. He chuckled. “Free plane tickets and a place to stay are pretty convincing,” he winked. “Plus, I really like you guys. And Sarah wanted to see Trace, so there was that.” I laughed, looking to my right where Trace was dancing with the little girl. Ella had moved on and was dancing with her dad. “Should I be worried that she’s trying to steal my man?” I joked as the little girl batted her eyelashes at Trace. “I think she’s a bit too young, so you’re safe,” Marcus laughed. Next, I danced with Dex. His graying dark hair hung in his eyes and he hadn’t bothered to shave. “I feel like I need to give you the talk,” were the first words out of his mouth when we started dancing. I blushed, looking at the ground. “I think you’re a bit late for that.” “I was afraid you’d say that,” he shook his head. “You know, you might be Derek’s daughter, but I … feel protective of you … and I don’t even know you that well,” he admitted sheepishly. “I guess it’s the bond of family,” I shrugged. “Maybe so,” he smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “At least you picked a good guy,” he tilted his head in the direction where Trace was dancing with both Ella and Sarah. Sarah didn’t look very pleased at having to share, which made me giggle. “That way, I don’t have to punch him and threaten him to treat you right.” “You have nothing to worry about,” I assured my uncle. “I’ve still gotta scare him a bit,” Dex glared over my shoulder, I assumed at Trace. “There’s no need for that,” I shook my head. “Sorry,” Dex chuckled, shaking his head as he fought a smile. “I feel like I have to stand in for your dad.” “You don’t think he would’ve approved of Trace?” I frowned. Dex laughed. “He would’ve liked him alright, but you’d be his little girl. Daddies with daughters are very overprotective. Ella isn’t dating until she’s dead,” he added. “Poor Ella,” I laughed. “If any guy tries to come near her, I’ll beat them away with a baseball bat, don’t doubt me.” About that time, we were interrupted by Gramps sauntering up to us. He grumbled, “It’s about time I got to dance with the bride. I am dying you know.” “Of course,” Dex bowed out of the way. Gramps took my hands, easily picking up on the beat of the song. “I hadn’t forgotten about you,” I told him. “I know you’d never forget about me, sweetie,” he smiled. “Regardless, I didn’t want to miss my chance to dance with you.” My lip began to tremble with the threat of tears and I bit down on it, drawing blood. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I wanted to be happy and smiling, but it was hard when I looked at Gramps and knew his days were limited. Forgetting that we were supposed to be dancing, I hugged him, letting him sway us to the music. “You have the letters, right?” He whispered in my ear. I nodded my head against his chest. “I hid them so Trace won’t find them.” I had stuffed the sealed envelopes in the bottom of the drawer of the table beside our bed. I knew he’d never look there. “Good girl,” he hummed. “I want you to know,” his voice grew thick, “that no matter where I am, I’ll always be thinking of you and Trace. You can be sure of that. My body might be leaving this world, but never my spirit. I’ll always be close to you, Olivia.” “Gramps,” I sniffled. “No tears,” he rubbed my dampened cheeks. “Only smiles.” “I don’t feel like smiling,” I mumbled. “Silly girl, a smile and laughter can cure anything. It doesn’t benefit anyone to dwell on the sad or bad things,” he reasoned.

“But it’s hard not to,” I sighed, my grip on his shoulders tightening. Maybe if I held on tight enough he couldn’t be taken away from us. “I know,” he nodded sadly. “Stay strong, my brave girl,” he kissed my forehead. With that, he bled into the crowd. I wasn’t left alone for very long as Trace appeared in front of me. Trace took my hand and pulled me off to the side. “Are you okay?” He asked, noting my bloody lip. “Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m sad, but I’m fine.” He took my face between his hands. “I don’t want you to be sad today.” “I’m trying not to be,” I took a deep breath. “But it’s hard.” He pressed his forehead against mine and his eyes fluttered closed. “I understand.” He held me for a moment and his presence alone calmed me. Around us, everyone chatted and danced, having a good time. Some of the kids ran around with sparklers, adding light to the night around us. It was late and I was tired, but I never wanted to leave. Right now, my whole family was together for the last time. “Olivia,” he said my name warningly. “Sorry,” I looked up into his green eyes. His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips and his eyes darkened like clouds when a storm was rolling in. “Tonight is about you, me, and our family. We can’t worry about what tomorrow might be bring, okay?” “Okay,” I agreed. We were heading to a table when his mom stopped us. “It’s time to release the paper lanterns,” she clapped her hands together, smiling giddily. “What?” My brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s the final event of the night,” she explained. “Everyone will release a lantern and then the party’s over.” “Oh,” I gasped, not realizing how late it was. Everyone grabbed a lantern and we began lighting the candles inside them. One by one they lifted into the sky. “Make a wish,” Trace whispered, watching me closely. I closed my eyes, wishing for the impossible … that I would be strong enough for the both of us. Once my wish was made, I let it go, watching as it lifted into the air and was carried away.

We hugged everyone goodbye, spending extra time with Gramps. I think I told him I loved him at least twenty times. He probably wanted to strangle me, but I felt it was important that he know how much he meant to me. Trace and I didn’t bother changing out of our formal clothes. In fact he’d mentioned something about him being the one to get me out of my dress. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and opened the passenger car door for me. His mom had wanted to get us a limo, but I said that was silly and refused. Trace slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “So …” He said slowly. “Yes?” He cleared his throat. “Do you—uh—want to go to a hotel?” “Trace Wentworth, are you blushing?” I giggled, poking his stubbled cheek where I swore I saw the skin stained pink. “No,” he bashfully turned away. “Why are you blushing?” I asked curiously. “You do realize you did me against the wall the other day, right?” “I don’t know,” he squirmed in his seat. “It feels … different.” I decided to put the poor guy out of his misery. “I don’t want to go to a hotel. I want to go home.” He smiled at that. “Home sounds perfect to me.” By the time we made it to the apartment, my stomach was turning in knots. It was silly, Trace was my husband and we’d been intimate many times, but something told me that tonight would take our relationship to a whole new level. He opened the apartment door and before I could step inside he was lifting me up and carrying me. “The real threshold,” he winked. He kicked the door closed behind us and carried me straight to the bed. He lowered me down and pressed his lips softly to mine. “I’ve been turned on since I saw you in this dress,” he tugged on the side. “Who knew a fucking dress could get me so excited?” “You don’t look too bad yourself,” my fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt and my hands splayed across his heated skin. I sat up and he took his time undoing the buttons on the back of the dress, pressing kisses against my skin. I pulled my hair out of the way, shivering at his touch. I let the dress drop to my waist and my heart beat rapidly in my chest in anticipation. He pulled the sheets back and made sure my head was cradled on the pillow. He tore his shirt all the way off and tossed it behind him, along with his pants. He slipped the dress off of me and it joined the rest of the garments on the floor. I closed my eyes, my breath faltering as his lips skimmed over my chest, down my stomach, and

lower. My fingers grasped his hair as the muscles in my body tightened. He kissed his way back up my body. His lips connected with mine, kissing me thoroughly. It was like he was devouring me, body and soul. “I love you,” he breathed against the skin of my neck as he sank inside me. I couldn’t reply. The only sound that escaped me was a soft moan. I clung to his shoulders, scared that I might float away and needed him to keep me anchored here. I couldn’t seem to figure out where I ended and he began. For now, at least, we were one person, connected by our love for each other. “Look at me,” he breathed when my eyes closed and I was reminded of our first time together. We’d come a long way in a few years. My eyes opened and the look in his eyes, of such pure love, was my undoing. Everyone should be looked at that way. Like they’re special. Like they’re loved. Like the other person is incomplete without them at their side. I raised my head and brought my lips against his. His stubble scratched the palms of my hands and my mouth opened beneath his as I gasped. He lightly nipped my bottom lip with his teeth, grabbing onto the top of the headboard. Sweat dampened his skin and I placed my hands against his muscular stomach, my eyes never leaving his. I wanted him. I needed him. I craved him. I loved him. And I was lucky enough to call him my husband. “Trace,” I gasped his name, clawing at his back with my fingernails. Both of our breaths accelerated. He peppered my face with kisses before laying claim to my mouth. I thought I might explode from the feelings building inside me. I found myself gasping his name again in-between kisses. He grasped my hips, lifting mine to meet his. “Oh, God,” I moaned, fighting the urge to shut my eyes. His teeth clenched together as he sped up his movements. “Olivia,” my name was barely a whisper uttered from his lips. “Olivia,” he said my name a bit louder. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, no longer able to hold back. He slipped from my body, but held me tightly in his arms, our dampened skin sticking together. He pulled my hair away from my neck and kissed it where my pulse raced. “Finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me,” he breathed. “You didn’t find me. We found each other.”

I woke up groggily, something having awoken me. It took me a moment to realize it was a phone ringing. Trace was sitting up too, rubbing his eyes. His hair stuck up around his head and he looked at me with sleepy eyes. “What the fuck is that?” He growled, the sheet falling to his waist. “Phone,” I answered, looking around to see if it was his or mine. It was five in the morning and I was too exhausted to figure out why anyone would be calling us at this time. He slipped his boxers on and searched the room for the annoying thing. He found it on the floor, under the dresser. “Hello?” He answered, scratching the back of his head. I watched the color drain from his face. He didn’t say anything to the person. Instead he took his phone and threw it against the wall. I watched as it shattered into pieces. He lowered his head into his hands and his sobs filled the room. I had never seen anyone look so completely and utterly broken before and I hated that it was Trace of all people. He didn’t deserve to go through this. No one did. I slowly rose from the bed and approached him like one would a frightened animal. “Trace,” I whispered his name so I didn’t startle him. His chest heaved with desperate breaths and he refused to look at me. “Trace,” I repeated. When he didn’t lower his hands, I responded by wrapping my arms around him. That got him to move. His hands left his face and he hugged me against him. My tears dampened his skin. I tried to dam the back, to be strong, but it was pointless.

“He’s dead,” Trace murmured unnecessarily. “Gramps is dead,” his voice was flat with no emotion. I knew he was processing the news and wishing it wasn’t true. His sobs increased and I didn’t know what to do to fix this. I was pretty sure there was nothing I could do, but that didn’t keep me from wanting to try. Trace was always so strong and never the one to get so emotional. I had never seen him quite like this … so broken and helpless. It tore me apart. I loved him and wanted to heal everything that hurt. But I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I was clueless. So, I held him. And he held me. Maybe, somehow, we could keep each other together.

“Fuck this!” Trace yelled from the bedroom. I came running into the room to see what the problem was. He stood in front of the mirror and the tie he’d been trying to put on had been thrown on the ground. It lay there in a heap looking sad and pathetic … sort of how I’d looked ever since we’d gotten the call about Gramps. I picked the tie up off the floor and smoothed it out. “Here, let me help you,” I forced a smile, draping the tie around his neck. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate this.” “What? Your tie?” I joked, feeling the need to alleviate the tension in the room. “He shouldn’t be dead. It’s not right,” he opened his eyes to look at me. “I agree,” I tightened the tie and fixed it into place. “There,” I stepped away. He was dressed in a black suit with an emerald tie that brought out his eyes. “I don’t want to go to this,” he stared at his reflection, fiddling with his collar like it was restricting his oxygen even though it was loose. “Trace,” I grabbed his hands and held them in my own. “We have to. You’d hate yourself if you missed your grandpa’s funeral. It’s okay to be sad and angry. It’s even okay to cry. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.” “You know how my mom wants us all to speak about Gramps?” He waited for me to nod before continuing. “I don’t want to,” he admitted, looking at me with sad eyes partially concealed by his thick-framed black glasses. I hated seeing him like this, but it was understandable. “Then don’t. She’s not going to be mad if you don’t. Do what you need to do.” I caressed his face with the back of my fingers, trying to offer him as much comfort and support as I could. The past two days had been hard on the both of us, but Trace was handling things better than I’d imagined. He’d had a few outbursts of anger, like with the tie, and he’d broken down crying last night … but I knew he’d be okay with time. He glanced at his guitar case leaning against the bedroom wall. “What if I sang a song?” A genuine smile met my lips for the first time in days. “That would be wonderful and I know it would mean more to Gramps than a speech.” He swallowed thickly, glancing down at the watch adorning his wrist. “We better go.” He grabbed his guitar case and left the apartment, not bothering to see if I was following. All I wanted to do was make him feel better but I didn’t know how to do it. There wasn’t an instruction book for something like this. All I could do was love him, no matter what. With a sigh, I opened the drawer in the nightstand beside the bed and pulled out the letters Gramps had written to Trace and me. I tucked them into my purse, planning to give Trace his after the funeral. I was sure I’d end up reading mine then too, but a part of me wanted to leave it unread. I didn’t want to know Gramps’ final words to me. If I didn’t read them, then it was like he wasn’t really gone. “Bye, Ace,” I petted the dog affectionately on the head and closed the apartment door, making sure it was locked. Trace was already in the car and he didn’t say anything as we drove to the cemetery. Even though Gramps had known lots of people, we’d chosen to keep the funeral private. My mom, Nick, Avery, and Luca would be there, but that was it outside of the immediate family. I followed Trace through the grass, around the headstones, to a spot under a large oak tree. Gramps’ casket was closed, on a platform above the freshly dug ground where it would soon be lowered. I was glad they’d chosen to keep the casket closed. I didn’t want to see Gramps like that. I wanted to remember him like I knew him when he was alive … smiling, laughing, and strong.

Trace set his guitar case down and his mom eyed it with a question in her eyes, but didn’t ask. Everyone else soon arrived and a man I’d never met before began to speak about Gramps. It was clear the man hadn’t really known Gramps, so I found myself tuning him out. After he was finished speaking, we each took turns saying a few things about Gramps. When it was my turn, Trace stood up with me. He entwined our hands together and I knew then, that we were united, and we’d really be okay. Greif had a way of making you forget that in time you’d heal. You live. You love. You lose. You heal. You move on. I held my head high as I spoke. “Gramps, is one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met. He welcomed me into the Wentworth family with open arms. He made me feel comfortable, but most importantly he made me feel loved. And I loved him back, like he was my own grandpa. I spent a lot of time with him over the years and he became not only my family, but a friend as well. When I say I’m going to miss him, it doesn’t encompass the magnitude in which I’ll feel empty. There will always be a part of me missing because of his loss. But I won’t dwell on his death. Gramps wouldn’t want me to do that. I’ll remember him often and I’ll always love him.” I squeezed Trace’s hand, letting him know I was finished speaking. I expected us to sit down, but he tightened his hold on my hand so that I couldn’t move. He swallowed thickly and a heavy breath gusted between his lips. “Gramps was more than a grandpa to me. After my dad died, he helped fill that role. I was in a bad place for a long time after my dad died, but Gramps never gave up on me. I put my family through hell, but they stood by my side, and with Gramps’ help I found my way back home … and I eventually found the love of my life. Without Gramps, there are so many things I wouldn’t have today. I’m not going to lie, I’m angry that he’s gone. Really fucking angry. But that’s life, sometimes bad things happen and we have to decide how to deal with them. I’m not the same person I was when my dad died,” he stopped, taking a moment to compose himself. “I was a boy then, but now I’m a man. I’ve grown a lot since then, and I won’t let this break me. Like Olivia said, I’ll always remember and love him.” We sat down together and everyone was silent, soaking in our words. Grammy began to cry beside Trace and he released my hand to hug her. “It’s okay, Grammy,” he rubbed her back. “We’re all here for you.” When he turned back to me, I said, “I thought you weren’t going to say anything?” “I wasn’t,” he shrugged. “But after you spoke … it would’ve been wrong not to say anything.” After Trent gave a short speech, Trace opened his guitar case. “I’d like to sing a song to honor Gramps’ memory,” he cleared his throat. His mom smiled. He pulled his chair out and turned it around so he was facing everyone. He strummed the guitar lightly, closing his eyes as his teeth bit into his bottom lip. “‘Oh, oh, oh, oh,’” he began. “Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, and the dreams that you dream of once in a lullaby. Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly, and the dreams that you dream of. Dreams really do come true. Some day, I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemondrops high above the chimney tops. That’s where you’ll find me.’” I closed my eyes, listening to the song and soaking in the words. When he finished singing, I heard Grammy sniffling and even his mom was crying. There was a lone tear on my cheek and I swiped it away. “That was beautiful,” I told him as he packed his guitar back up. “That was different that the original,” I stated. “Did you change it yourself?” “No,” he shook his head. “That’s Jason Castro’s version.” “It was perfect,” I placed a hand on his arm. “Very fitting.” We stood, standing by the casket. “Yes, it is,” he skimmed his fingers over the mahogany top. “Gramps is with the rainbows now.” Everyone was hugging and saying goodbye. I managed to keep Trace from leaving, saying I wanted a moment longer. When everyone was gone, I pulled his letter from my purse. Trace watched my movements carefully, eyeing the letter with apprehension. “Here,” I handed Trace his. “Gramps gave me this when he was in the hospital.” His hands gripped the envelope tightly and I feared he might rip it. “I don’t know what it says, but I think you should read it. There’s one for me too,” I pulled the second letter from my purse.

He took a deep breath, staring at his name scrawled on the envelope. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he confessed. “I don’t know I can either,” I admitted. “Maybe we should do it together?” I suggested. He nodded and we sat beneath the tree. The leaves cast shadows over us and we both stared at the sealed envelopes, reluctant to open them. He looked at me and I looked at him. At the same time, we ripped the envelopes open. I pulled the piece of paper out carefully, like it was a precious artifact I was worried I might damage. Tears leaked out of my eyes as I began to read. Olivia, If you’re reading this then that means I’m dead. Sorry about that. Some things cannot be helped. I held out for as long as I could. I fought hard, I promise you that. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stay longer, but my time has come to an end and I must say goodbye. I love you very much. I know you know that, but I felt the need to say it again. I couldn’t have picked a better woman to steal my grandson’s heart. You bring out a side to him that’s been missing since his dad died. You make him smile and laugh. You’ve shined a light into all his darkest places and driven away his demons. I can’t thank you enough for that. You don’t know what he was like after his dad died … I feared he lost his way. I worked hard to bring him back, but you didn’t have to work at it. You’re his soul mate, Olivia. Soul mates are hard to find, but I managed to find mine in Ellie. Hold him close, and never ever let go. Live your life, Olivia. Don’t dwell on the bad things. Move past them, together. That was one of the most important things I learned while married to Ellie … together, we could solve any problem and conquer any hurdle. I want the best for you and Trace. I know you’re both bound for great things. I’m proud of Trace for following his dream and choosing not to take over the company. He should be admired for making the less easy choice. If he ever doubts his decision, remind him of this. As for you, my sweet Olivia, write that book. Don’t let life get in the way of your dreams. Our dreams can take us anywhere as long as we let them. So, spread those wings and fly baby girl. All my love, forever, Gramps.

A few weeks later … “What do you think?” Trace took a step back with his hands on his hips, assessing the new sign on the garage. WENTWORTH WHEELS “It’s … interesting,” I eyed the name now emblazoned on what was once Pete’s Garage. “You don’t like it,” he frowned, his brows furrowing together. “No, I do.” Actually, I thought it was ridiculous, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I kept my mouth shut. Two weeks ago, Pete had handed the business over to Trace. It had been shut down since then as Trace prepped to open the garage under its new management. Pete had left him all of the equipment since he didn’t need it, but the place had been in need of a serious makeover. Now, it sparkled with a renewed life. The last few weeks had been hard, since we were still mourning the loss of Gramps, but Trace was better since he’d been putting so much time and energy into opening the garage as his own. It was a welcome distraction for him. “Don’t lie.” “I’m not lying,” I laughed. “I wasn’t expecting that though,” I shrugged, pointing at the sign. “I thought it was catchy,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “Better than Trace’s Garage, at least.” “Yeah, this is better than that,” I admitted. “I’m really proud of you,” my voice brightened as I smiled at him. I knew it had been hard for Trace to admit that taking over the family business wasn’t for him. He wanted to please his family, but he would’ve been miserable leading his family’s company. Instead, his mom had stepped up to the plate and filled Gramps’ shoes. She had worked for the company after she married Trace’s dad and after he’d died she’d continued to put in hours. “Thanks,” he slung his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a kiss.

After looking at the sign for another minute, we made our way into the apartment. Trace stopped in the kitchen, leaning a hip against the counter. “I noticed you canceled your job interviews.” “Yeah,” I bit my lip, remembering the words Gramps had written in his letter. As for you, my sweet Olivia, write that book. Don’t let life get in the way of your dreams. Our dreams can take us anywhere as long as we let them. So, spread those wings and fly baby girl. After reading Gramps letter, I knew taking a job teaching wasn’t what I really wanted to do. Writing a book would be hard, and I might not ever do it, but I wouldn’t know until I tried. So, for the time being I’d continue to work at Marcy’s store and write in my spare time. Who knew where it would go, but at least I’d be happy, and happiness was the key to everything. “So … does this mean you’re going to write that book?” He paused waiting for me to respond. When I didn’t say anything, he grabbed an apple and bit into it. He arched a brow as he eyed me from across the counter. There was no point in not telling him my plan. I knew he would support my decision. Besides, this is what he’d wanted me to do all along. I strode forward and grabbed my laptop. I plopped on the couch and opened the lid of the computer. “Yeah, I am and I’m going to start right now,” my voice shook nervously with fear. Admitting this was a big step for me. “And what story are you going to write?” His eyes sparkled and his lips threatened to turn up in his signature cocky grin. “Ours.”

A year later … I stared out the window of our new home, smiling at the white picket fence and the idyllic setting. The new house was close to the garage, but we wanted to get an actual house so Ace would have room to run around a yard. Plus, with the baby due any day now, he kind of needed his own bedroom. The apartment would not have been a great place to bring a baby home to. I turned, picking up the picture on the side table. It was of Trace and me, kissing Gramps’ cheeks at the wedding. I couldn’t believe he’d already been gone more than a year. His loss still felt fresh but we were moving on and we were happy. We had everything we could ever ask for and more. “Done!” Trace called from the nursery. I waddled inside, my hand on my rounded stomach. I closed my eyes, stifling a laugh. “Really, Trace? This is what you’ve been doing in here all afternoon? Now I know why you told me to stay out,” I shook my head, fighting a smile. “What?” He frowned. “You don’t like it.” “‘I am a Jedi like my father before me,’” I read the decal he’d affixed to the wall. Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Starting him young, aren’t you?” “You’re never too young to have a love of Star Wars,” he defended. I wrapped my hands around the bar of the crib, smiling at the mobile my grandma had made the baby. It was made of pale blue and white origami stars. I was happy the baby would have something made by family to look at and not something from a store. Trace lowered to his knees in front of me and I gazed at him quizzically, wondering what he was up to. He lifted my shirt up and placed his hands on my stomach. “Buddy, it’s daddy,” his breath tickled my bare skin, “I really want to meet you, so I wish you’d come out already. Plus, mommy’s getting really tired and cranky,” he grinned up at me. “Hey,” I laughed. “You’d be tired and cranky too if you had to carry this around all day,” I pointed at my large stomach. “Come on, buddy, it’s time for you to come out,” he coaxed and the baby kicked against Trace’s hand. “Nice try,” I sighed. “But I gave this kid an eviction notice a week ago and he has yet to vacate the premises. He’s stubborn, like his daddy,” I smiled down at Trace, running my fingers through his hair. “I’m ready to meet him. I want to know if he looks like you or me. I bet he looks like you,” he smiled wistfully, rubbing my stomach. I laughed, placing my hand against his to still his movements. “Trace, he’s not a genie in a bottle. You can’t rub him out.” “I can try,” he grinned boyishly. About that time, I felt a gush and my eyes widened.

Trace looked up at me and his eyes were full of panic. “Is that what I think it is?” I nodded. He rushed out of the room, grabbing the bag with baby clothes and ran down the hall to our bedroom. He came back with the baby bag slung over one shoulder and my overnight bag on the other. “Baby time,” he smiled, but there was fear in his eyes too. I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t scared. “Do I need to carry you?” He looked at me skeptically. I rolled my eyes. “I can walk.” “I can carry you if—” “Just get me to the hospital,” I said calmly, because I knew one of us had to stay calm in this situation and it definitely wouldn’t be Trace. He helped me to the garage and into the large SUV he’d insisted on buying the day after I told him we were going to have a baby. “Did you have to get a SUV that was so high,” I grumbled, as I tried to scramble my way into the car. I was having trouble between my short legs and the boulder that was currently my stomach. “This was the safest car for the baby,” he defended. After some help from Trace, I managed to get seated and stretched the seatbelt across my stomach. I think he broke at least ten traffic laws in his haste to make it to the hospital. By the time I was admitted into a room and my doctor came to check on me, I had dilated six centimeters. “More than halfway there. Things are moving really fast. You’ll have a baby to hold soon,” the doctor smiled as she left the room. Trace was pacing nervously back and forth across the room as he called our family. When he hung up, he continued pacing. I was tempted to shuck something at him to get him to stop. He was making me more nervous than I already was. “Please, for the sake of my sanity, sit down,” I begged. “Sorry,” he took the chair beside me. I reached my hand out to him and he took it. With his long fingers, he spun the hospital band around my wrist. He stopped, focusing on something. “Is that little man’s heartbeat?” “Yeah, it is,” I smiled at the sweet sound. Nothing was as precious to me as our baby’s heartbeat. “It’s beautiful.” Tears welled in his eyes and I reached out to cup his cheek. “You’ve heard it before,” I stated. “I know,” he bit his lip. “But it gets to me every time … it’s our baby.” I knew what he meant. When I’d found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t even begin to describe how elated I was. When I saw the baby on a sonogram for the first I cried for ten minutes. Hearing the heartbeat … there was nothing else like it. “I never could have imagined that a year ago that we’d be here,” he looked around the room. “It seems so surreal that we’re here … that you’re having my baby.” “Believe it,” I rubbed my stomach, grimacing as a contraction rolled through my body. “I hate you for this,” I hissed, so overcome by the pain that I forgot how happy I’d been a few moments ago. “I’m sorry,” he sat up to kiss my forehead. “If I could switch places with you, I would.” I evened out my breathing as the pain faded away. From that moment on the contractions quickly escalated. Apparently little man had decided it was time for him to make his grand entrance. I begged for drugs but there was no time. Trace brushed my hair away from my face, murmuring sweet words. Gripping Trace’s hand, I pushed our baby into the world. Tears leaked out of both our eyes as we saw our son for the first time. Even covered in goo he was the cutest thing I had ever seen. “I love you so much,” Trace murmured and kissed me deeply. “I love you too,” I sobbed, watching as they cleaned my son. I held my arms out weakly, desperate to hold the small bundle they were wrapping. He was a part of me, of us, and I needed him. The nurse placed him in my arms. “Congratulations you two,” she smiled. My breath left me as I gazed down into the eyes of my son. Dark hair poked out beneath the knit blue cap they’d stuck on his head, and his eyes, although the blue babies were born with, held a hint of green. His nose was rounded on the end, exactly like Trace’s, and he even had his dad’s pouty lips. I think I’d given birth to Trace’s clone. Little man would be breaking hearts all over the place. “He’s real,” Trace gasped, reaching out to rub the baby’s head. “Of course he’s real,” I laughed. “What did you think had been growing inside me the last nine

months?” He chuckled. “It doesn’t seem like this should be possible … that he’s ours.” “He is one-hundred percent ours. Crying, screaming, and dirty diapers included,” I smiled up at him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you? For what?” My brows furrowed together in puzzlement. “For giving me this gift,” he ran a finger over the curve of the baby’s cheek. “He’s perfect.” “I have to agree with you there,” I smiled as the baby yawned. I was sure there had never been a cuter baby. His eyes closed and he opened his mouth in a small yawn. I didn’t want to let go of the baby, but I knew Trace deserved to hold his son. “Here, take him,” I held my arms out so he could take the baby. Family would be arriving soon to meet the baby and I wanted Trace to have time with him first. The baby looked so small in Trace’s large hands. He stood, rocking the baby in his arms. Slowly, he lifted the baby up and leaned his forehead against our newborn son’s. “Hey buddy, I’m your daddy,” he whispered to the sleeping baby. “I’m new at all this so you’ll have to bear with me,” he continued. “But I want you to know I love you and I’ll always protect you. No one will ever hurt you.” He kissed the baby’s nose and murmured, “I love you, Dean.” Tears welled in my eyes once more as I watched Trace with Dean. My son had the best dad in the world, I was sure of that. Cradling Dean in his arms like a small football, Trace grinned. “Well, what are we going to do now?” His eyes strayed back to Dean, then to me again as he waited for me to answer. I thought for a moment before answering, smiling at my husband and newborn son. I had everything I wanted right in front of me, so in my eyes there was only one answer. “Anything we want.”

Tempting Rowan Copyright © 2014, 2015 Micalea Smeltzer  All rights reserved.  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher.  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Cover design and photography by Regina Wamba at Mae I Design  Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

I’m drowning in the numbness. It’s pulling me under and I can’t see the surface. It’s easier to pretend I can’t feel. And the longer you pretend, the easier it is to believe. But he wants to save me. Only he can’t. I have to save myself… and I don’t know if I want to. Rowan Sinclair’s life has been anything but easy. With an alcoholic mother and a sleazy stepfather, it’s been her responsibility to raise her younger siblings. At twenty-one she’s chained to a life she doesn’t want, but sees no other alternative. After all, what would happen to her brother and sister if she were to leave? Trenton Wentworth sees the pain behind Rowan’s eyes. He wants nothing more than to make it disappear. To hold her. To love her. Except Rowan keeps everyone at a safe distance. But if there’s anyone that can break down the walls she’s built around herself, it’s Trent. So she avoids him at all costs. But Trent isn’t one to be easily evaded. He’s stubborn and determined. He’ll save this girl even if it costs him everything. Love, lies, and deception. That’s the name of the game when you’re Tempting Rowan.

To anyone that’s ever felt worthless or unworthy of love.

I stare at the reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the girl I see. The fancy dress, the shoes, the hair, none of it’s me. But take that away and I still don’t recognize myself. Who am I? I don’t know. If I don’t know then no one does. I glare at the girl in the mirror, hating her. The hate consumes me and I watch helplessly as my fist flies out, connecting with the glass. It shatters around me, crumbling to the ground just like my life. Pain radiates from my hand up my arm. I look down and all I see is blood and all I feel is pain. For a moment I’m reminded that I’m alive and I welcome the pain. But it’s not enough. It won’t be long until the numbness consumes me, swallowing me whole. It’s all I know. It’s all I am. A shell. A ghost. I don’t exist. I used to be okay with that, but I don’t know if I am anymore, and that’s what scares me the most.

“Hey,” my best friend Tatum poked my side. “Hey,” she hissed a little bit louder. When I still ignored her, she exclaimed, “HEY!” “Shhhh!” Hushed a guy with his nose buried in a textbook. “What?” I glared at her, mad that she was disturbing the peace in the library. I mean, honestly, I thought she could at least respect the obvious need to stay quiet in the library. Apparently not. “Over there,” she nodded her head at something over my shoulder, “is Trenton Wentworth, and his eyes are all over you,” she whispered, smiling excitedly. I wasn’t surprised she knew who Trent was, in this town the Wentworth’s were practically famous—with the kind of wealth they had it was surprising that they still lived in this small town. “What?” This time I gasped the word. “No.” Her words had poured a bucket of ice-cold water on me. It was like I couldn’t escape the guy. No matter where I hid he always popped up. I refused to turn and look, but I felt his eyes boring into my back. Those blue eyes had once twisted my stomach into knots and with one bat of his lashes I would’ve come running. Even girls like me weren’t immune to the charms of a guy like Trent. “I have to go,” I stood hastily, grabbing my books, and pushing my glasses further up my nose. I didn’t care if I had two more hours worth of studying to do and would never be able to finish it at home. My desperation to get away from Trent was more powerful than my need to study… and that was saying something. I stumbled around the chair and Tatum watched me with a dumbfounded expression. The chair I bumped into crashed to the floor. “Sorry,” I mumbled, not bothering to stop and pick it up. I had never told anyone about that night. The night I gave into my desires. The night I let Trent take a piece of me. The night I ran from him. The night my life was irrevocably changed. I bumbled towards the exit and in my haste one of my books slid from my arms, landing on the floor. I was tempted to leave it, glaring at the treacherous book, but a tan hand was already snaking out and picking it up. The person placed it back on the stack in my arms and I swallowed thickly, refusing to look up. I felt his stare and I knew it was Trent standing before me. Slowly, I looked up and my hazel eyes connected with his. Looking at him was like taking a punch to the gut—leaving me breathless with a pain I couldn’t understand. “Rowan,” he beamed, and the way he said my name made me squirm… and not in bad way. But oh how I wished I didn’t enjoy hearing my name leave his kissable lips. I tucked a piece of light brown hair behind my ear. “Trenton,” I stared at his shoes. They were black motorcycle boots with heavy silver buckles. I wondered if they were real motorcycle boots or designer

ones just for show. “My face is up here,” he said in that deep husky voice with a slight chuckle. I forced my head up and met his eyes. His dark hair was longer on top and shorter on the sides. His chin was dotted in a light dusting of stubble like he’d forgotten to shave this morning. Beneath his leather jacket he wore a navy t-shirt and his jeans looked well worn, even though I knew he could afford new ones. “What are you doing here?” I stuttered, looking around for a means of escape. I needed to get away from him before I did something stupid… like give into the temptation of Trenton. Brilliant question, Rowan. I scolded myself when I realized what I’d asked him. Sometimes, words seemed to fly from my mouth without me thinking through what I was about to say. I really needed to work on that. He chuckled, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. “It’s a library. There’s usually only one reason to be here.” “Usually?” I questioned with a raised brow. What other reason would one have for coming to the library? His smile widened. “Well,” he leaned towards me, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, “if you’re really quiet you can always have sex.” He pulled back, laughing at my wide-eyed expression. “I always did have a naughty librarian fantasy.” He looked me up and down and a blush stained my cheeks in what I was sure was an unflattering shade of red. My hair was pulled back, my tortoise shell glasses perched on the end of my nose since my contacts had been bothering me today, and I was wearing a pencil skirt and button down top. It might not have been naughty, but I was dressed like a librarian since I worked here after classes and studied before going home. “I really need to go,” I explained, realizing that I was still standing in front of him like an idiot. I tried to push past him, but he ceased my efforts with a hand on my arm. His sweatshirt was rolled up, displaying the tattoos that covered his one arm. Tattoos I had been very intimately acquainted with once upon a time. I wondered if he even remembered. “How could I forget?” He asked. Oh, no. Had I said that out loud? “You didn’t have to,” he answered my unspoken question. “I could see it in your eyes that you were thinking about that night.” I swallowed, my heart beating a mile a minute. “You were the one that left,” his voice held a tone of irritation. “You never gave me a chance to prove myself to you.” His thumb rubbed circles on my arm, still refusing to let me go, and it was like he thought I was an animal he could calm with a soft touch. “You didn’t have to,” I yanked my arm from his grasp and glared at him. “I know what guys like you want from a girl like me. You got it, okay? There’s no need to keep up the farce of a good guy.” He stared at me with a look of shock. His mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish. He was at a loss for words and Trenton wasn’t the kind of guy to be left speechless. I took this opportunity for what it was, and all but ran out the doors of the library. I had to get away from him. If I stood there a second longer I wouldn’t be able to resist him. From the moment I first laid eyes on Trent, when I moved to Winchester my freshman year of high school, I’d been under his spell. “Rowan!” He called after me, but I kept walking like I hadn’t heard him. “You’re the one acting like a player! So, what?! I was good enough to fuck once but I’m not good enough to give a chance?!” Those words hit me like a slap in the face. Not because they were true, but because they were so very wrong. Trent didn’t know the real me. No one did. If he found out about me, about what I had done, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I knew that, so I was only trying to spare him. It had been five years since we lost our virginity to each other on a school camping trip our sophomore year. I’d have thought by now he would’ve forgotten about me, but Trent wasn’t like most guys. He actually cared. He was real. And he was perfect. I didn’t deserve him, frankly no one did. But for some reason, he thought I was someone worth caring about. But if he knew the kind of person I really was he’d run as far away from me as his feet would take him. I reached the sidewalk and turned to see him standing on the steps staring at me. “Answer me,” his voice was raised, but not angry. He sounded hurt and that broke my heart, because I was the one causing him pain. If he’d leave me alone, he wouldn’t have to feel that way. But Trent wasn’t the type of guy to give up. Whenever we ran into each other it was like… he still cared about me, and I couldn’t understand it. I ran away from him after we had sex and ignored him through the

rest of high school. On the rare occasions when I was forced to interact with him, I was less than friendly. He needed to stay away. I couldn’t afford to let him get close. “Girls like me don’t end up with guys like you,” I told him and he flinched like I had slapped him. “Guys like me, huh?” His jaw flexed. “Funny,” he descended the remaining few steps and stood in front of me. He stared at me for a moment, anger and sadness stormed in his eyes. “Because somehow, in this situation,” he pointed to him and then me, “it seems like I’m the one that got used. Not you.” I glanced down at the gum-covered sidewalk. It was much easier to look at it than Trent’s hurt face. I never meant to hurt Trent, but that’s what I was doing. I wanted to keep him safe from the cruel world that I called home. He didn’t deserve to have his view of life tainted. “I wanted one night. That was it. And I didn’t mean that the way you took it,” I explained with a defeated sigh. He grabbed my chin and forced my gaze to his. “Then explain what you meant!” His intense blue eyes held me captive. I swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by his demand. I swallowed. “Look at you!” My voice rose as my anger increased and tears threatened to leak from eyes. “You’re—ugh—perfect and I’m—” I pointed to my librarian-esque clothes, mousy hair, and glasses, “nobody.” His jaw clenched as he glared at me. “You’re nobody? For someone that’s so smart, you’re incredibly stupid,” he spat, shoving his fists into his jean pockets. “Whatever,” he shrugged, turning and walking away. He shook his head back and forth, muttering under his breath. I knew he was pissed and a part of me wanted to run after him and tell him everything so he’d understand why we couldn’t be together. Instead, I let him leave, just like I always did. I watched until he turned the corner and let out a deep breath I’d been holding in. He was gone… for now. But I’d known Trent long enough to know that he wasn’t finished with me. He’d pop up again, and based on this conversation, I’d say sooner rather than later. A moment later the library doors opened and Tatum came running down the steps with my backpack clenched in her hands. I’d completely forgotten about it. She stopped, looking quickly left and right for me. When she spotted me, she jogged my way and handed me my backpack. “Where’s Trenton?” She looked behind me, like maybe he was hiding there. “He left,” I stared at the last spot I saw him. A motorcycle roared to life somewhere, the only sound in the otherwise quiet town. “Did he leave… peacefully? Or did you make him leave?” She asked, tilting her head to study me. I rolled my eyes. “You make me sound like a bitch.” “When you get around Trent, you sure act like one. Why do you hate him so much?” “I don’t hate him,” I whispered, watching the little clouds my breath made in the cool air. I wished I hated him. It would make things so much easier. “Really?” She tilted her head, pushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. “Because you sure act like it. I would kill to have Trenton look at me like he does you. Heck, I’d like for any guy to look at me like that.” I shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “He doesn’t look at me in any particular way.” She snorted. “Are you fucking blind? He looks at you like he wants to lick every crevice of your body.” My eyes widened. “That’s…” I had no words. She took a step back. “I love you, Rowan. I really do. But sometimes I feel like I don’t really know you at all. You’re so strange sometimes.” Her words didn’t hurt my feelings. No one knew the real me… not even myself. If I were an outsider observing myself, I’d think I was strange too. “My mom’s going to be here in a few minutes to pick me up since my car’s still being fixed, so you don’t need to give me a ride,” she backed away further. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I waved weakly, watching as she disappeared inside the doors of the library. I adjusted my books so I could sling the backpack onto my shoulders and headed to my car. Normally, after I finished working at the library I stayed past closing time to study. They knew me and didn’t mind me using it, but Trent had messed with my plans. This also meant I hadn’t had a chance to change out of my work clothes. I always changed back into my school clothes once my shift was

over, so I’d be more comfortable. I knew my mom wouldn’t have done anything for my siblings. Everything always fell on me. I was like Cinderella, only Prince Charming was never going to put a glass slipper on my foot and take me away to his castle. I unlocked the door to the old silver Honda Civic. It was a piece of crap, but it ran, so that was good enough for me. I tossed my bag and books into the back and slid into the driver’s seat. I sat there for a moment, counting my breaths and heartbeats. It calmed me for some reason. I put my hands on the steering wheel but I didn’t pull away. I didn’t want to go home… I never did. But that didn’t stop me from doing it anyway. Maybe I could have left… gone away… had a different life. But I wouldn’t leave. I was chained to that house and a life I didn’t want. I was trapped and I was slowly being suffocated by all of it. Sooner or later everything would catch up with me and I’d willingly let it consume me.

“Hi, mom,” I said when I walked into the house. I closed and locked the door behind me. I turned, glaring at her passed out form. Every single day of my life it was the same routine. I was always talking to the equivalent of a corpse. She was here in body, and that was it. Even when she was awake she was drunk. “Row! Row!” I dropped my bags down as my little siblings came running at me. “Hey,” I opened my arms wide, hugging them tightly. They were the only two things in this world that kept me going. “How was school?” I asked them, smoothing my fingers through Ivy’s light brown hair and then ruffling Tristan’s. “It was okay,” Ivy’s pale pink lips turned down in a frown. “I got a gold star,” Tristan pointed proudly to the sticker adorning his chest. “Awesome!” I gave him a high five. “What did you do to get that?” I tickled his stomach lightly, making him giggle. “I got an A on my spelling test!” “Well, Tristan,” I hugged him again, inhaling the scent of his shampoo, “you’re the smartest kindergartener I know. Have you guys eaten?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. They shook their heads no and I sighed in disgust. If my mom didn’t have me… I feared what would happen to Ivy and Tristan. “Come on then,” I stood taking each of their hands. “I’ll make us dinner. You guys can help me.” “I like helping,” Tristan beamed up at me. His smile always managed to break my heart. “I know you do,” I lifted him onto the counter and then did the same with Ivy. She was only three years older than Tristan, and getting a bit too big for me to be lifting her, but I didn’t mind. Most days, I felt more like their mother than their sister. I fed them. I bathed them. I packed their lunches. I looked after them. I loved them. It was more than my mom had ever done for them or me. There wasn’t much food in the house so our options for dinner were limited. “How’s macaroni sound?” I pulled out a box of Spongebob shaped noodles and shook the box. “Yay!” They cheered. I was lucky that they were such easy to please kids. I put water on to boil and crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned against the counter. “Who’s going to pour the macaroni into the pot?” I asked. Tristan enthusiastically raised his hand. “It’s Tristan’s turn,” Ivy agreed with a sad shake of her head. “I did it last time.” “That’s nice of you, Ivy,” I smiled at the little girl. “You can stir the cheese in. Would you like that?” She brightened, smiling widely. Several of her baby teeth had fallen out, making her adorably awkward looking. “I’m a good stirrer.” “Yes, you are,” I leaned over, kissing the top of her head. “Row! Row! The water!” Tristan pointed enthusiastically at the water beginning to boil. I opened the box of macaroni and removed the packet of powdered cheese. I handed him the box and lifted him onto my hip so he could pour the noodles into the water. He watched in fascination as the bubbles hid the noodles from sight.

“How long till it’s ready? I’m hungry,” he pouted as I sat him back on the counter. “Not long,” I assured him. “We’ll eat and then I’ll give you a bath and you can take a shower, Ivy.” “I don’t want to,” Tristan groaned. “Baths suck.” “You don’t want to be dirty, do you?” I tweaked his nose. “I’d rather be dirty than wet,” he grumbled, crossing his small arms over his chest. His too small shirt rode up, exposing his stomach. I was going to have to start picking up some new clothes for him whenever I had some extra money. “Stop whining, Tristan. You know it doesn’t work with me,” I warned him with a steely gaze. His arms lowered and he let out a pent up breath. “Fine. Will you read me a story tonight?” “Don’t I read you a story every night?” I countered with a raised brow. “Yeah, but sometimes you fall asleep,” he giggled. “Sorry about that,” I hung my head shamefully. I tried my best to be a parent for my siblings, but it was hard. I had school and work. When I got home it was late and I was exhausted. I wished I could afford for a babysitter to watch them, but I didn’t have the money… not if I wanted to buy food. I already had to pay for Tristan to stay in after school care since he was only there for half a day. My stepfather was just as bad, if not worse than my mom. He didn’t drink, but he constantly smoked in the house, had a lousy job, and was just plain creepy. “It’s okay, Row,” Tristan opened his arms for a hug. I held him close. It amazed me that two kids that had nothing could be as sweet as Tristan and Ivy. I let him go and stirred the macaroni. When it was done, I strained it and put it in a bowl. I dumped the ingredients in the bowl and handed Ivy a spoon. “Stir, sweetie.” She mixed it as thoroughly as she could, but in the end I had to help her. “Ivy, why don’t you get the plates?” I nodded my head at the cabinet that housed them. “Sure,” she smiled, eager to please me. She grabbed three plates, hopped off the counter, and scurried over to the card table that served as our only eating surface. I helped Tristan down and carried the pot over to the table where I loaded our plates with macaroni. “Wash your hands before you eat,” I warned them. With heads bowed, they did as I said. I cleaned the pot and washed my hands before joining them at the table. “It’s good, Row,” Tristan smiled at me with trusting eyes. It broke my heart every time I saw that look in his eyes. He and Ivy trusted me completely… to love them… to protect them… but how could I ever do those things when I wasn’t a whole person? I was shattered… broken… unimportant. “Thanks, Tristan,” I ruffled his hair, hoping the innocent little boy couldn’t see the darkness inside me. “You’re the best sister,” he leaned into my touch, like a dog begging to be petted. “Hardly,” I laughed. They helped me wash the dishes and then it was time to give Tristan his bath. After a lot of grumbling I finally got him into the warm water. I really wished I’d had time to change my clothes. Giving Tristan a bath in a pencil skirt wasn’t practical. Damn Trenton Wentworth. I let Tristan splash around for a few minutes before I washed and shampooed his hair. “Pull the drain plug,” I pointed to the stopper. He pulled it and the water began to whoosh out. He stood and I helped him out. I wrapped a towel around his small frame, drying his body, and then his hair so it stuck up around his head like a bird’s feathers. I led him down the hall to the room he shared with Ivy. Ivy was reclined on her bed, playing with her dolls. “Shower, Ivy.” “I wanna play,” she whined. “Ivy. Shower. Now.” I snapped. “I’m tired and I don’t have the energy to argue with you.” “Fine,” she slipped out of the bed, grabbing pajamas to take with her to the bathroom. “Hurry back and I’ll read you both a story,” I said in a softer tone. I hated snapping at the kids, knowing they got enough of that from our mom—on the rare occasions she was awake—and step-dad. “Okay,” I heard her say as the bathroom door closed. I grabbed the lotion and rubbed it into Tristan’s body. “Which pajamas do you want to wear?” “The dinosaurs!” I shook my head. I should’ve known.

I pulled out the pajamas with different colored dinosaurs on them. “Lift your arms,” I instructed. Once he was in his pajamas, he climbed into his bed. “Which story do you want tonight? It’s your turn to pick,” I rubbed my eyes. “Um…” He thought, placing a small finger against his lips. “The Lion King!” I grabbed the Disney book and climbed into his bed, leaving room for Ivy on my other side. She came into the room a few minutes later. “Ivy,” I groaned at the wet stringy pieces of hair framing her face. “You didn’t brush your hair!” “But it hurts!” She argued. I sighed, slipping out of the bed even though it felt so good to rest my tired body. I grabbed the detangler and a comb from the bathroom. Sitting down on the floor of the bedroom, I motioned with my hand for Ivy to sit in front of me. After a moment of hesitation, she reluctantly took the spot. “You have to brush your hair or it will only get more knotted,” I told her, spraying her damp hair with the detangling solution. “I hate brushing my hair too,” I worked the comb through the ends. “You do?” She sounded surprised. “But your hair is so pretty and long, Row.” “I like it long,” I shrugged, trying not to pull her hair, “but brushing it is a pain.” “Ow!” She grabbed her head when I brushed through a knotted strand. “Sorry,” I told her, kissing the spot in apology. “Better now?” “A little.” “There,” I patted her back when I was done. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” “No,” she admitted reluctantly. I returned the comb and detangler to their spots in the bathroom, before climbing back into the bed to read their story. When I finished reading the story, Tristan looked up at me with wide eyes and Ivy snuggled closer to my side. “Row,” Tristan started, “I wish you were my mommy.” His words turned my stomach inside out. Both he and Ivy deserved better than my deadbeat mom, but they also deserved more than me. “Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Because,” he shrugged his small shoulders, “you do everything for me.” Even at five years old, Tristan was aware that our mother did nothing. It broke my heart that he and Ivy had to grow up with this. But I had too, and I didn’t have anyone to look after me. That’s why I did what I could for them. “I love you, Tristan,” I kissed his forehead. “Love you, Ivy,” I kissed hers as well. “Goodnight.” “Night, Row,” Ivy scurried over to her bed on the other side of the room. I hugged Tristan and I slipped out of the bed. I hugged Ivy too and closed their bedroom door behind me. I leaned my head against the closed door. I was so exhausted, but I needed to shower and I had homework to finish since I hadn’t done it at the library. Trent had ruined my whole evening. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? Choosing not to waste my energy dwelling on it, I pushed myself forward and into my room. It wasn’t much of a room to be honest. It was more like a closet. My full size bed took up most of the space and the closet door was always open because it was impossible to close it. The walls were painted a bright aqua blue and the bedspread was purple. It was nothing special, but it was mine and that’s what mattered to me. I grabbed a pair of loose sweatpants and a sleep shirt. I showered as quickly as I could, but took more time than I meant to because the hot water felt so good on my tense muscles. I never seemed to relax. Before I headed into my room for the night I checked on my mom. She was still passed out on the couch. I hated her so much, but she was my mom, and nothing could change that. I watched her for a few minutes, noticing the steady rise and fall of her chest. I wondered how someone that drank so much was able to breathe like a normal person. It seemed like her breaths should falter or something. I wanted to yell and scream at her to get off her lazy ass and be a mom. But I knew that was pointless. I’d yelled and screamed at her more times than I could count and it never did any good. It usually resulted in me getting slapped in the face. With a scowl, I pushed myself away from the wall.

I closed my bedroom door, locking it behind me. I slipped beneath the covers, glaring at the textbook laying on the bed. I wanted to put off my homework till tomorrow, but it would only bug me and result in even more lost sleep. I pulled the textbook onto my lap and began to read the assigned pages. Thirty minutes later, when I finished reading, I had to write a short essay to summarize what I’d read. Honestly, you’d think professors would have better things to do than grade stupid papers like this. We were supposed to type this, but I didn’t have a computer, so I had to hand write it. I always did my typed assignments at the library before I went home. Hopefully I’d have time to type this up tomorrow, but tomorrow also meant even more homework. It was a vicious cycle. Once the short paper was written, I tucked it into the pages of the book and dropped the book beside my bed on the thin strip of floor that served as the walking space in my room. I reached over and turned the light off, bathing the room in darkness. I lay in bed, unable to go to sleep even though I was exhausted. I heard the front door slam closed and jumped. My step-dad Jim was home. I hated Jim with every fiber of my being, maybe even more than I hated my mom. I listened to his heavy footsteps echo through the small house. When they started down the hall, I closed my eyes for a moment to ground myself. Turning on my side, I forced them open, staring at the darkened shadow stopped outside my door. I held my breath, counting in my head. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Jim smacked me around some, but nothing too bad. What I couldn’t handle was when his eyes roamed up and down my body like I was piece of meat he wanted to devour. Even worse than that was when he touched me. Sometimes, when I was wearing a skirt, if I passed by him while he was sitting his hand would skim under the fabric and up my thigh. Other times his fingers would graze my butt or my breasts. He liked to play with my hair too. I’d thought about cutting it more than once, but my hair was the only thing I liked about myself and I refused to let him take that piece of me. I held my breath, waiting for him to leave. When he finally did I was red in the face and black spots floated across my eyes. I wondered how much longer he’d be satisfied with simple touches and standing outside my door. I rolled onto my side, away from the door, and squished my eyes shut. Behind my lids, Trent’s image filled my mind. I couldn’t escape him no matter how hard I tried. He was always there. Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes I let out a groan. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? Didn’t he see that I was no good for him? I would never be able to love him when I couldn’t even love myself.

I had the same dream that night that I’d had at least once a month since I was sixteen. The twigs snap beneath my bare feet and my heart races in my chest as I try not to make a sound. It’s pointless though. My heavy breathing is bound to give my location away to the teachers. If they catch me sneaking over to the boys’ tents, they’ll send me home, and home is the last place I want to be right now. For one night I want to be a normal teenager. I don’t want to have take care of Ivy. I push all thoughts of my crappy home life away—for the night at least—and stop outside the tent I know is Trent’s. I swallow thickly, counting to ten. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. And then again. I know that behind the fibers of the tent Trent is waiting for me. Wetting my lips with a flick of my tongue, I reach out, grabbing the zipper between my thumb and index finger. I slowly pull it up, easing the zipper open. I’m positive my heart is about to beat out of my chest. I count its beats, but not even the counting can calm me tonight. When there’s a hole large enough for me to fit through, I slip inside. A hand reaches out and grabs my arm. I shriek as I begin to fall but the hand holding my arm releases me and comes across my mouth to stifle the sound. “Shhh, Row,” Trent whispers and the sound of his voice makes me shiver. “Sorry,” I mouth when he moves his hand. He eases his weight off me and closes the tent. “I didn’t think you would come,” he admits, biting his lips adorably. His teeth are slightly crooked and there is a space between the front ones, but I think it only makes him more handsome. I’d never been attracted to a guy before I laid eyes on Trenton. He turned my insides to mush, but more than that, he was my best friend. When I moved here earlier this year, I’d been so scared. I’d never been the new girl before and I was shy. Making friends had never been easy for me. But Trent had taken me under his wing. I’d questioned his motives at first. After all, why would a guy as gorgeous as Trent want to be my friend? I quickly learned though, he didn’t have any friends. He was a loner… an outcast like me… and we clicked. Since I transferred to this high school in November, we’d grown closer every day. Our friendship blossoming into more… he wasn’t my boyfriend… that was too simple of a word. He was my everything… my air… my gravity… he kept me centered. It was spring now, and with the blossoming of the first flowers, we’d decided to take our relationship to the next level. His home wasn’t an option for what we had planned and neither was mine. In fact, I’d only been to his house once, and he’d never been to mine. I didn’t want anyone to know what I had to deal with at home. Some things were better left in the dark. “Row,” he flicks his finger against the end of my nose, “what are you thinking about?” “You,” I whisper.

“Me?” He grins crookedly. “Good things, I hope.” His blue eyes sparkle when he talks. I like that he’s always so animated. He’s not like other guys that try to hide their feelings. He’s real. “Always,” I reach up, cupping his face in my hands. A light dusting of stubble covers his cheeks. “Are you scared?” He asks. “Yes,” I admit. I have no secrets with Trent. “We don’t have to,” he assures me, pulling away. “I know that,” I grab onto his blue sweatshirt, holding on tight. “I want to. I promise.” He stares at me, unsure of if I’m lying or not. “If you want me to stop what I’m doing at any time,” he closes his eyes as if his words pain him, “tell me and I’ll stop, Row. I mean it. I don’t want to pressure you.” “I want this,” I tell him, wondering how many times I’ll need to say it before he believes me. He swallows thickly as a slow smile spreads across his face. Normally, the darkness would make it hard to see him, but his face is so close to mine that I see him perfectly. “Here,” he reaches for a pillow and lifts my head up to place it beneath me. “Is that better?” “I was fine before,” I giggle quietly from nervousness. “I want this to be perfect for you, Row.” “It will be perfect,” I grasp his arms, “because I’m with you. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.” Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach up and undo the zipper on his jacket. His eyes close as his breath falters. Once the jacket is unzipped, I push it off his wide shoulders. He’s left in a thin black t-shirt and my fingers greedily trace the lines of the tattoo on his arm. I’ve seen him without his shirt so I know that it starts at his shoulder and stops at his elbow. If you see it from a distance, it looks like an ocean scape, but up close you see that it’s really different shades of blue in a water color design so it looks like it’s dripping off his arm. I think it’s beautiful, just like him. “Row,” his eyes open and his voice is shaky. “Yeah?” I blink up at him. “You’re beautiful,” he traces a finger over my rosy cheek. I smile, knowing I’d been thinking the same thing about him. I push my hands beneath the edge of his t-shirt and place my hands flat against his warm stomach. He’s muscular, but not overly so. I ease my hands back out and grasp the fabric in my hands, pulling it over his head. His baseball cap falls off his head and we both laugh. “I feel like you’re excited to get me naked,” he chuckles. “Maybe,” I squirm at his gaze. I hate being stared at. “I want to kiss you,” he warns, his mouth lowering. “Then do it,” I challenge. A quiet moan escapes me when his soft lips touch mine. I’m positive that no other guy out there is as good of a kisser as Trent is. It’s just not possible. His tongue presses against my closed mouth and I open to let him plunge inside. My fingers pull at his hair, drawing him closer so his whole body is pressed against mine. Warmth zings through my body at his touch and my hips rise to meet his. I gasp in surprise at the feel of his large length pressed against me. I honestly don’t know why I’m so surprised. This is why I came here. So we could lose our virginity together. “Trent,” I gasp his name. “I need…” “What do you need, Row? Tell me. I’ll give you whatever you want,” he nips at my neck. “You.” “You have me, Row. You’ll always have me,” he promises and I know he means it. I ease out of my t-shirt so I’m left in my bra and jeans. “God, Rowan,” his eyes heat as he stares at my breasts. “Who knew you were hiding those under all those baggy superhero t-shirts?” “I like those shirts,” I defend. “I do too,” he winks, kissing me again. His tongue snakes inside my mouth, flicking against my own. My heart is still racing in my chest, even faster than earlier if that’s possible. His large hand grasps my right breast and I gasp. I need more. I need him to make me feel alive. I need him to give me my freedom. His hand moves over my stomach, stopping when he feels my belly button ring. “You’re pierced?” His eyes are wide as he looks down at me.

“Why are you surprised? You have tattoos and gauges,” I comment. “I don’t know,” he smiles crookedly. “I thought you were a good girl, Row.” “I’m far from a good girl,” I admit. “I like it,” he slides down my body, flicking it with his tongue. My back bows off the ground in response. His breath is hot against my bare stomach and Goosebumps begin to coat my skin. His fingers find the button on my jeans and he flicks it open. With his eyes on mine, he eases the zipper down and pulls them off of me. “God, you’re fucking amazing,” he eyes my long legs. “I want to be inside you so bad.” “Then hurry up,” I whine. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he bites his lip. “I’m a virgin,” I state. “It’s going to hurt.” God, boys could be so dumb. “Still,” a wrinkle mars his brow. “I don’t want to cause you pain.” “It can’t be avoided,” I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him flush against me. “I want this with you, Trent.” He swallows thickly at my words. “Maybe this was a bad idea—” “It’s not. This is the best idea we’ve ever had. You’re my best friend, Trenton. I want us to experience this first together.” I reach up, cupping his cheek in my hand and rubbing my thumb over his plump bottom lip. He playfully nips at my finger and I smile in response. That seems to get through to him. “Together,” he repeats. He kicks his jeans off and removes the rest of my clothes. I’m a bit embarrassed, being completely naked in front of him, but it doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. He stares at me for one-hundred and sixteen seconds—I counted—before he finally removes his boxers and puts the condom on. “Are you sure, Row?” He asks one last time, his jaw clenched and his arms stiff as he holds himself back. “Positive.” He eases slowly inside me. My eyes pinch close and I grit my teeth at the feeling of tightness and pulling below. It hurts… a lot… but I know I can’t make a sound for fear of the teachers discovering us. Plus, Trent would stop if he knew he was hurting me so badly. “Almost there, Row,” he kisses me as he thrusts inside the rest of the way. I guess he knew he’d need to muffle my small cry. He holds himself above me, not moving, giving me the chance to adjust to the foreign feeling. “Are you okay?” He asks. I’m holding my breath, so I can’t answer at first, but I nod slowly. “Tell me when I can move.” “Not yet,” I plead, my fingernails digging into his arms. “Not yet,” he agrees, kissing me slowly to ease my anxiety. My body begins to relax and pleasure replaces pain. My hips wiggle and he groans. “Row,” he warns, his forehead pressed against mine. “I’m ready. You can move.” He swallows thickly. “Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.” I nod, biting my lip as he eases out a bit and then back in. It feels so good being connected to him like this. I never want it to end. Sweat dampens our skin, making us stick together. I watch the muscles in his stomach clench as he thrusts in and out of me. His breathing accelerates and I know he’s close. I am too, although, my mom always told me to never expect any pleasure my first time. She lies though. It’s the only thing she’s good at… well, she’s good at getting drunk too. “Row,” he gasps, his thumb pressing against the throbbing nub. He rubs it in circles and my muscles tighten. “Trent. Trent. Trent.” I say his name over and over again. When I come apart, his mouth silences my cries. A moment later, he twitches inside me and I know it’s over. I’m not a virgin anymore. He presses kisses to my neck before falling to the side. He wraps his damp body around mine and I close my eyes, smiling. It feels so good to be held like this. He brushes my long hair away from my neck. “I love you,” he breathes, pressing tender kisses to the skin behind my ear. Those three words drench my body in ice cold water. It’s a shock to my system and there’s only one thing I know to do.

Run. I sit up, grabbing at anything that might be my clothes. “Row?” He questions and I refuse to look at him. I can’t see his eyes right now. I won’t be able to leave if I look at him. “Row? What did I do?” He presses a hand against my bare skin. “You don’t have to say it back, but I thought you should know.” I don’t say anything as I put my clothes back on. “Row, where are you going?” He asks when I begin to unzip the tent. I pause. “I can’t stay the night here. The teachers will find me and we’ll get in trouble. I’ll see you in the morning.” But we both know it’s a lie. From this moment on, I vow to do whatever it takes to erase myself from his life. I sat up in bed, clutching at my chest as I struggled for air. My skin was damp with sweat and my hair stuck to my forehead. The dream—memory, I corrected myself—always did this to me. I wondered if there would ever be a time it didn’t affect me. I pushed the covers off and drew my knees to my chest. Why couldn’t I escape him? Even when he was nowhere around, he still managed to weasel his way into my subconscious. Damn Wentworth. I started to count—it was the only thing that seemed to calm me. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. The back of my neck was sticky with sweat, like the rest of my body, and I lifted my hair up to cool myself. I looked over at the clock and groaned. It was only five in the morning, but I was the kind of person that once I was awakened I couldn’t go back to sleep. I flicked the light on, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness. “Ugh,” I groaned, rubbing my temples. I felt a headache coming on and that was the last thing I needed. I had a prescription for my headaches, so I pulled the bottle out of my bedside drawer, popping one of the pills onto my tongue. With the stale water I’d brought to bed with me I swallowed it down. I placed my head in my hands, letting my long hair fall around me. I was a mess. There was no other word to describe me. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. It hurt too much to think about Trent. Everything had been perfect until he said those three words and ruined it all. Why couldn’t he keep his big mouth shut? I knew it was wrong to blame him. He didn’t understand that those words didn’t mean the same thing to me as they did to everyone else. Anyone that had ever told me they loved me was being deceitful. My mom. My grandparents. Everyone. It was all a lie. No one loved me. I was nothing but a burden.

I wanted to give Ivy and Tristan a decent breakfast, but there was barely any food in the refrigerator or small pantry. I got my paycheck from the library today and I’d use it to buy some groceries— hopefully something I could use to make a decent meal out of. “Sorry, guys,” I frowned. “Looks like it’s toast with butter for breakfast.” “I want Frosted Flakes!” Ivy cried. “We don’t have any,” I sighed, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “Fine,” she grumbled, “toast is fine.” She pouted for a moment, but it didn’t last long. Unfortunately, all three of us were accustomed to not having proper meals and often going hungry. It broke my heart that I couldn’t do more. But my paycheck wasn’t large, since I spent the majority of my time at college trying to build a better life for us. No one knew, but my hope was to get a stable job, save enough money to buy a house and better car, then fight for custody of my siblings. I wouldn’t leave them in this hellhole. I handed each of the kids a piece of toast with butter. They ate it like it was the most delicious thing

to ever pass through their lips. I checked that their backpacks had everything in them. When I was sure they weren’t missing anything, I set the bags on the table. “Ivy, you needed to brush your hair,” I said sternly. She opened her mouth to argue but I pressed a finger against her lips. “No, Ivy.” Rolling her eyes at me she stuffed the last of the toast in her mouth and sauntered out of the kitchen. I feared the teenage years with that one. “Row, can you brush my teeth for me?” Tristan asked, wiping his hands on a paper napkin. “Sure,” I ruffled his hair. Raising Ivy and Tristan had been a lot to take on, but they were worth it. I didn’t understand how anyone could abandon their kids the way my mom had. But alcohol would always be the most important thing to her. After I helped Tristan brush his teeth it was time to get them in the car and drive them to school. Since I was either in class or working I was never able to pick them up, but I felt it was important that I at least drive them there. “Ooh! Ooh! Turn it up, Row! I love this song!” Ivy chanted, bouncing in the back seat. I sighed and turned the volume up. Royals by Lorde began to play and I was tempted to plug my ears. They played that song all the time and it was annoying. Why did radio stations insist on playing the same song over and over again? I mean, really? “And we’ll never be royals,” Ivy sang along to the song. I had to agree with the lyrics though. I didn’t see how we’d ever be anything other than lower class, no matter how hard I might be trying to get to the top. I pulled into the school’s parking lot and circled around to the drop-off line. “Have a good day!” I forced a cheerful tone as they got out of the car. They said goodbye and then I was pulling away and driving across town to the university campus. It was nothing fancy, but it sufficed, and it was certainly expensive enough. I had the school loans to prove it. I was taking classes that might help me get into their nursing program. I was banking on getting accepted into it. If I didn’t—well, I’d rather not think about it. I parked in my usual spot in the back of the parking lot. I liked the walk. It allowed me to clear my head. “Hey!” I turned and found myself smiling as Jude jogged towards me. I didn’t know how we’d ended up friends, but somehow we clicked. He was tall with brown eyes and light stubble dotting his jaw. His straight brown hair fell messily over his forehead in a way that was effortlessly sexy. His long-sleeved green shirt hugged his muscular chest and jeans hung dangerously low on his hips. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to Jude, but what I felt for Trent was so much more—even if I insisted on denying it. Jude wrapped his muscular arms around my torso and spun me around. “Put me down!” I shrieked, beating his solid chest with my mitten covered hands. “I missed you, Row,” he grinned crookedly and planted a kiss on my cheek. “You saw me yesterday,” I replied, running my fingers through my hair after he’d set me down. “So? I still missed you,” he smirked, striding beside me. “I didn’t miss you,” I looked up at him, fighting a smile. “What?” He gasped, putting a hand to his chest. “How could you not miss me? Most women wished I missed them, and here you are wounding me for professing my feelings. Nice, Rowan. Real nice.” “Oh please,” I laughed, adjusting the straps of my backpack as we crossed from the parking lot onto the sidewalk. “We both know you were banging some girls brains out last night.” “True,” he winked. “Could’ve been you,” he chuckled. I pretended to gag. “No thanks.” “Are you a lesbian or something?” He joked. “I’ve never met a straight female that didn’t want to hop on this and take a ride,” he stopped walking and rolled his hips in a vulgar manner. “Not a lesbian,” I shook my head, “just not into man whores.” “Baby, for you I’d change my ways,” he threw an arm over my shoulder and hugged me against him. A girl passed us and glared at me. She had to be one of Jude’s many conquests. “And ruin our wonderful friendship? I think not,” I removed his arm from my shoulders. “That’s true,” he scratched his stubbled jaw. “I really value our friendship.”

“Sure you do,” I rolled my eyes, heading into the building. “I do,” he assured me, his voice suddenly serious. We headed into the same classroom and he sat down in the seat beside me. It amazed me that Jude— womanizer, playboy, Jude—was studying to be a nurse. I’d think he’d be too selfish for that. But while I might joke about his slutty ways, Jude was a nice guy… to me at least. He was also caring and compassionate. Once, when we’d been working at a hospice, I’d seen him spend an hour just talking to one of the older ladies. Jude propped his legs on the empty chair in front of him, crossing his legs at the ankle. Our classrooms were auditorium style, which I hated because that meant that the table attached to my chair was less than adequate workspace. “Professor Hamilton is going to be pissed if he comes in here and sees your shoes on the seat,” I warned. “I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged, eyeing one of the girls in the classroom. When she caught his gaze he licked his lips suggestively. I kicked the legs of his chair and he glared at me. “What the fuck, Rowan?” “Sorry, I couldn’t control myself,” I shrugged innocently. “I have muscle spasms.” “Yeah, right,” he rolled his eyes and let his feet drop to the ground. “You disturbed my mojo.” “Your mojo?” I raised a brow. “Yeah,” he grinned. “Are you jealous or something?” “Hardly,” I propped my head on my hand, wishing the professor would hurry up and get here already, “I was trying not to throw up in my mouth.” He leaned back in the chair, his eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter. “You amuse me.” “Is that why you keep me around?” I replied. I was used to this banter with Jude. It’s how our strange friendship worked. “I keep you around because you’re hot and it makes other guys think I’m not checking out their girlfriends,” he said with a straight face and I knew he was being serious. “Thanks, that makes me feel really good,” I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “Aw, Row,” he brushed my long hair over my shoulder, “you know I love you.” “I know,” I smiled at him. “Good,” he leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the table. Jude was the kind of person that couldn’t sit still to save himself. Sometimes that really irritated me since I was a quiet person by nature. I honestly didn’t understand how we’d become friends. We’d met our freshman year at the university. He’d sat down beside me, flirting shamelessly, and I—of course—shut down his advances. From that moment on, he became my only other friend besides Tatum. “We should go out tonight,” he suggested. I glared, so he added, “As friends of course.” “I can’t. I’m working, you know that,” I sighed. “You’re always working,” he grumbled, “when do you have time to just… chill?” “Never,” I answered without hesitation. “That fucking sucks,” he rubbed his hands over his face and stifled a yawn. “It’s called life.” “You deserve a break, everyone does,” he commented. “I don’t have time for breaks,” I shrugged, pulling a pencil out of my backpack and a notebook. “It is what it is.” He opened his mouth to argue but the professor finally decided to make an appearance—ten minutes late I might add. I turned away from Jude and set about taking notes.

I was running late and I hated being late, but I had gotten stuck in traffic thanks to a train passing through town. I ran into the library bathroom and locked myself in the wheelchair accessible stall. I changed out of the clothes I’d worn to class and into my work clothes, stuffing my jeans and sweater into my backpack so I could change into them again after my shift ended.

I opened the stall door, washed my hands, and jogged down the hall to the backroom where we stored our stuff. I ran back up to the front—winded at this point—and stopped in front of Mary, the head librarian. She was an older lady, in her sixties, with short gray hair. She was one of the kindest people I knew, but I hated to disappoint her by being late, especially since she was the one who had hired me. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I gasped. She looked at me for a moment and her eyes flicked over to the clock on the desk. “You’re two minutes late,” she stated. “I know, and I’m really—” “Shush, child,” she lowered her reading glasses, “I hardly constitute this as late, besides, you’re usually early. Don’t worry about it.” “But—” She raised a brow and the look in her eyes silenced me. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Rowan. Now quit wasting my time with your apologies and put those books back on the shelves,” she pointed to a cart full of books. “I’m on it,” I assured her, taking the cart and grabbing the first book. “And Rowan?” She called before I was out of earshot. “Yeah?” I turned to look at her. “If you’re late again, don’t apologize. Just get to work,” she smiled kindly. “Sure thing.” I started the mindless job of replacing the books on the shelves. I loved being surrounded by books. They were the only thing in my life that always managed to make me happy. Reading allowed me to escape from my shitty life, even if it was only for a few hours. It was nice to… disappear for a while. Before I knew it, the cart was empty. I rolled it back and there was another waiting for me. By the time I finished the library was closed. “Are you staying to study?” Mary asked, handing me the envelope with my check in it. Technically I wasn’t allowed to stay after hours, but Mary trusted me and didn’t mind. “No,” I shook my head, frowning. I really needed to study and get my homework done since I had trouble doing it at home, but I needed to stop by the grocery store and get some food. I knew my mom wouldn’t have bothered to make Tristan and Ivy anything to eat—even if she tried there wasn’t any food in the house. “I have to go to the store.” “Oh, okay then,” Mary smiled and patted my arm as she flicked off the light on the desk. “I’m going to change,” I told her, already heading toward the backroom to grab my bag. “I’ll wait for you, sweetie,” she shrugged into her winter coat. “No, no, you go on ahead,” I assured her with a wave of my hand. “Don’t be silly,” she pulled on gloves. “Mary,” I stopped with a hand on the door. “I leave here by myself a lot of nights. You don’t need to worry about me.” “Don’t be stubborn now, young lady,” Mary warned. “Alright,” I sighed, “give me a minute.” I changed out of my clothes in record speed and met Mary at the front. She closed the large library doors behind us and locked them. The library was located in a historical part of town and first opened it’s doors in nineteen-thirteen. It was massive and one of the most beautiful buildings I’d ever seen. Mary and I walked down the sidewalk and over to parking lot. I waved goodbye and got behind the wheel of my ancient—but reliable—Honda Civic. I was exhausted, but my day was far from over. I still needed to stop by the local Wal-Mart to get groceries before I went home. I’d have to deposit my check first thing in the morning so I didn’t get a bill for overdrawing my account. That would majorly suck. The parking lot was packed, even at six in the evening. I ended up having to park all the way in the back of the parking lot, which sucked since it was so cold out and my lightweight coat did little to protect me from the frigid wind and snow flurries. My long legs carried me quickly into the store. I grabbed a shopping cart and pulled the grocery list from my pocket. My first stop was to get frozen lasagna. I would have rather gotten the ingredients to make it homemade, but it was far too expensive. I was used to living on a budget. I swung by and grabbed a package of deli turkey before heading down the bread aisle. I scanned the prices, looking for whatever was cheapest. Ivy and Tristan had learned early on that we couldn’t afford to be picky.

Whatever was the lowest price was what we ate. I bent down and scanned the lowest shelf. “Aha,” I mumbled under my breath when I found what I wanted. “I never knew bread was so interesting.” The hairs on my spine stood on end. No. Freaking. Way. I stood slowly, the plastic bag that held the bread was clasped tightly in my hand. I turned, shaking slightly, and my eyes connected with Trent’s. “Evening, Row,” he smiled cockily, tilting his head. He was dressed casually in jeans and a black leather jacket with a baseball cap perched on his head. “What are you doing here?” Shit. I’d said the exact same thing when he’d shown up at the library. I really needed to stop talking around him. “Getting bread, obviously.” Looking at me, he reached out and grabbed a random bag of bread. Several other loaves tumbled to the floor, but neither of us moved to pick them up. “Obviously,” I whispered, at a loss for words. I looked behind me, hoping for a means of escape, but running away—again—would have been childish. “Mind if I walk with you?” He asked, smiling crookedly. My stomach did a somersault. Why did he have to affect me like this even after all these years? “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” “Why not?” He stepped closer to me, so close that I could clearly smell his cologne. “Because…” I faltered. Using my hesitation to his advantage, he moved around me and began pushing the shopping cart. “Hey!” I called after him. He totally just stole my shopping cart, where my purse currently resided, like it was no big deal. Ugh. I wanted to punch the little cart caper. “Come on, Row,” his lips quirked. “What do you need next?” He nodded at my list. “Pasta noodles,” I found myself saying as I trailed behind him. Trenton smiled and turned down the correct aisle. I should’ve taken the cart from him and told him to get lost, but I couldn’t make myself do it or form the words. Instead, I walked beside him, gripping the shopping list so tightly in my hand that it began to tear. “How’ve you been, Row?” He asked stopping in the middle of the pasta aisle—not caring that he was blocking people. I swallowed thickly. “Is that what you tracked me down to ask me?” I countered. “Tracked you down?” He chuckled, gazing down at me with those blue eyes that sent warmth flooding through my body. “That implies I wanted to find you.” I turned my face in the opposite direction so he couldn’t see the heat infusing my cheeks. “Hey,” Trent stopped and grabbed my arm. “I was kidding, Row. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” “You didn’t,” I said too quickly. “Liar,” he eyed me, his jaw set. “What are you even doing here?” I asked, trying to deflect the conversation from myself. “Aren’t you off at UVA?” “It’s Thanksgiving break,” he smirked. “Oh.” How had I been completely oblivious to the fact that Thanksgiving was this week? I had no idea what I was going to do for the kids… I needed to do something. Surely I could find a cheap turkey? Or maybe Mary would help me out? She loved the kids, and while she didn’t know the details of my home life, she knew it wasn’t the greatest. “Row? Rowan?” “What?” I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. “Where’d you go?” He asked. “What do you mean?” “You were completely lost in your thoughts. You couldn’t even hear me,” he frowned. “I have a lot to think about,” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared down at my worn shoes. Trent shook his head and pushed the shopping cart forward. “What kind of pasta do you need?” He asked, changing the subject, and I was incredibly thankful. Trent was good like that. He pushed me

more than I liked, but he always knew when to back off. Maybe that’s what scared me the most about Trenton. He knew me better than I knew myself. “Whatever is cheapest,” I muttered under my breath. I knew Trent had never had to live on a budget. His family was worth billions—they certainly didn’t act like uppity rich people though so you had to give them credit there. In fact, they were the nicest people I’d ever met—even if I’d only met them briefly years ago. Years. Funny, it felt like a lifetime. Trenton surprised me by reaching for the Wal-Mart brand spaghetti noodles and placing it in the cart. We continued through the store, shopping for groceries together. I’d read something off the list and Trent would twist the cart in whatever direction we needed to go. I hated to admit it, but despite the fact that we barely spoke, I was really enjoying his company. “So,” I started, nervously fiddling with the buttons on my jacket, “what are you doing here? This isn’t exactly the most glamorous place.” I swirled my finger in the air for emphasis. “I needed some ferret food,” he shrugged, pushing the cart forward and reaching up to push the brim of the baseball cap out of his eyes. “Ferret food?” I questioned in disbelief. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I have a ferret and he has to eat.” “Do they even sell ferret food here? And there’s a Pet-Smart right down the road, why wouldn’t you go there?” “So many questions, Row,” he sighed, grabbing a container of orange juice and heading for the eggs. “Yes, they have ferret food here. I don’t go to Pet-Smart because if I did that, then I’d want to bring home every furry creature I saw while I was there.” “You seriously have a ferret?” I continued to drill him. “Yes, I seriously have a ferret. His name is Bartholomew and he’s really cute. You should come over and play with him sometime. He needs friends,” Trent grinned at me. “How are these?” He held up a carton of eggs. “Those are great,” I answered his question. “You know, I could see you with a snake or a lizard, but not a ferret.” Trent shuddered. “Don’t tell anyone, because it’ll ruin my street cred, but I hate reptiles. I’m not saying I’m going to go out and kill a snake because I hate them, I’m all for saving any little creature, I just don’t want one living in my house.” I cracked a smile at that. “You’re an interesting guy, Trenton.” He gazed down at me, studying my features. I found myself squirming at the intrusive stare. “Why did you stop talking to me?” Shit. I brushed past him and grabbed the handle of the shopping cart. I walked as fast as my legs could carry me, but Trent jogged after me. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he reached out, bringing the cart to a halt. “You’re not getting away that easily. You don’t want to answer the question? Fine,” he shrugged like it was no big deal, “but I’m not going anywhere.” “Of course you’re not,” I grumbled under my breath. Trent would stick around and fester under my skin. He’d find a way into my heart, and when he did I’d have to tell him all my secrets. And when he found out what I had done… he’d hate me, and I wouldn’t blame him. “I’m a Wentworth,” he bumped me aside with his hip and took over with the shopping cart, “and we’re incredibly stubborn, so get used to it.” “Believe me, I’m well acquainted with your stubbornness,” I grumbled under my breath. Trent glanced at me over his shoulder, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Uh-oh. What had I said? “I like that you’re admitting just how well you know me. This might not be as difficult as I thought.” “What might not be difficult?” I ground my teeth together. I swear, only Trent seemed to know what buttons to push to piss me off. “Getting you to see that we’re perfect for each other.” He pushed the cart forward, and I had to force my gaze to the ground so that I didn’t study the way his shoulders flexed beneath his leather jacket. “We are not perfect for each other,” I said vehemently. “So stop wasting your time.” “It’s okay to fight what we have, Rowan. I like your spunkiness,” he winked. Ugh. “Why now?” I asked. After what we did on the school camping trip, I’d avoided Trent. Yeah, he’d tried

to pursue me, but eventually he gave up and moved on. When we returned for our junior year of high school we’d both changed a lot, and he’d left me alone. But for the last year or so, whenever Trent was home from college, he was constantly popping up when I least expected him. It was quite a talent he had. “Now is our time. We weren’t meant to be together back in high school, but now we’re both older and ready.” He stopped in the middle aisle and reached out to caress my cheek. I hated how good it felt to be touched by him. I didn’t want to admit it, but I had missed him. “Trent…” I couldn’t seem to make myself say the words to tell him he was wrong. Being with Trent had always been effortless. He had been my best friend, and I knew if I let him he’d easily step back into that role… as well as lover… but I wasn’t sure I could let him. We’d both end up broken in the end. “I—never mind.” He grinned crookedly. “I’m so happy you see things my way.” “Whatever,” I rolled my eyes. Arguing with Trent was futile. “What’s left on the list?” He nodded at the piece of paper still clenched in my fist. I unclasped my hand and looked down at the wrinkled paper. I could barely read my own handwriting I’d crinkled it so much. “I need to get coats for Ivy and Tristan,” I mumbled. Trent raised a brow. “My siblings,” I muttered, casting my eyes to the ground. “Yeah, I remember Ivy. But Tristan?” He questioned. I kicked the toe of my worn shoe against the linoleum tile floors. “Yeah, he’s my brother. He’s only five. Apparently my mom has never heard of condoms or birth control,” my cheeks colored. “Huh,” he clucked his tongue. “So, let me guess, you’re the one taking care of them?” “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner,” I said in a flat voice. I’d confessed years ago to Trent that my mom was an alcoholic. I wasn’t sure if he knew how bad she was though—that she had basically been comatose since Tristan was born and that when she was awake she was violent. “God, Row, you’re not their mom. You have school, and a job… how do you do it?” He looked at me like he was really seeing me for the first time. “You do what you have to do to survive. My mom doesn’t take care of them, so I do.” His stare was penetrating and I found myself squirming from the scrutiny. He shook his head and the muscle in his jaw ticked, but he chose not to say anything. He pushed the cart into the kid’s clothing section and began scanning racks of coats. “How about this one?” He held up a blue coat with green dinosaurs on it. I smiled at his effort. “Tristan likes dinosaurs, it’s perfect.” Trent beamed at that. Trenton really did like helping people—particularly me it seemed. I grabbed a coat in the right size and dropped it into the cart. I found a pretty purple coat for Ivy and deemed this shopping trip complete. “Alright, I’m done,” I forced a small smile for Trent. “Should you go grab that ferret food you need?” “Who said anything about ferret food?” He winked, heading towards the checkout. I groaned, tilting my head back to look up at the ceiling. “You little liar. Do you even have a ferret?” “Yeah, he just doesn’t need any food right now,” Trent shrugged, looking for a line that wasn’t too long. “Then why’d you tell me you were here for ferret food?” I continued to fire questions at him. “It would be creepy if I said I came here because I saw your car. Ferret food seemed like a safe excuse,” he chuckled. “You’re ridiculous,” I shook my head, letting my long hair hide my face. “Hey, I got to spend time with you, and you got to spend time with me. So, I’d say it was a win-win situation, wouldn’t you?” He raised a brow as he reached into the cart to begin placing items on the conveyer belt. “Who said I ever wanted to spend time with you?” I snapped. His eyes flicked up to mine and hurt flashed briefly in the blue depths before being replaced by mischief. “You don’t have to say it, Row. Your body does all the talking, and your body is attracted to my body.” “Keep dreaming,” I mumbled, wrapping my arms protectively across my torso. “Oh, I don’t have to,” his lips quirked up in a smile, “it won’t be long till you see things my way. I’ve

been told that I’m very persuasive.” “I’m guessing that you were the kid that was never told ‘no’ as a child,” I quipped. “Oh, I was told no plenty of times. Everyone knows my brother is the favorite. Personally, I don’t get it. The guy dresses like he’s going into the woods to cut down some trees, he says the weirdest things, and he’s a pain in the ass.” Shrugging, he added, “Don’t worry though, the lack of attention didn’t ruin my childhood. I’m perfectly okay,” he spread his arms wide. “There’s no need to feel sorry for me, but if you’d like to kiss me and make it all better, I won’t complain.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not kissing you.” “You’ve kissed me before,” he smirked. Leaning in, so his lips brushed my ear, he whispered, “In fact, we’ve done a lot more than kiss.” My cheeks flamed and I put both of my hands against his muscular chest, giving him a shove. He chuckled. “You can’t deny the facts, Row.” I chose to ignore him, shoving the cart forward so I could start loading the plastic bags. The cashier announced the total, and I reached for my wallet, but Trent was already pulling out a credit card. “Nope, no way, put that thing away,” I warned. I was not letting Trent buy my groceries. I didn’t need his charity. “Row, don’t be difficult,” he went to swipe his card. “Don’t even think about swiping that card, Trenton.” My voice was icy cold. I was pissed. “You mean like this?” He blinked his eyes innocently and swiped the card. “Cancel that!” I pointed at the cashier. She looked at me like I had lost my mind… maybe I had. “Uh…” She looked from me to Trent and back again. “Don’t listen to her,” Trent waved a hand dismissively. “My girlfriend likes to assert her independence by buying the groceries. But I’m a man, and that’s my job. She really needs to stop getting her panties in such a bunch.” My mouth fell open as the cashier handed him the receipt. “I’m not your girlfriend.” I don’t know why those were the first words to leave my mouth. “Oh honey, you always say such hurtful things when you’re on your period. I should’ve gotten you a brownie,” he smirked, throwing a smile over his shoulder at the cashier. We sure were giving her an entertaining evening. Trent pushed me aside and rolled the cart out into the night. He headed straight to where my car was parked and I wasn’t surprised to see his shiny black car beside it. “Open the trunk,” he demanded, already grabbing up bags. “I don’t need your help.” He looked at me peculiarly. “I never said you did need my help, but I want to help you, and there’s a big difference. Besides, Row, accepting help doesn’t make you any less of an independent person. I know you’re all for girl power and doing things by yourself, but it’s okay to let someone else step in and take care of you.” I swallowed thickly, looking down at the ground so he couldn’t see the tears in my eyes. I opened the trunk and stepped back, hoping he didn’t see how upset I was. No one had ever taken care of me. I was raising Ivy, Tristan, and myself. Nobody cared about me, and if I let Trent in I’d get spoiled to having him, then he’d leave and I’d be even more shattered than I was now. He got all the groceries in the trunk and reached up to close it. My breath fogged the chilly air as I forced myself to thank him. “Thank you,” I finally squeaked after an awkward silence. He laughed—and oh my God how I loved his laugh, it was husky and masculine, and perfect like him. “It really killed you to say that, didn’t it?” I shrugged. “No one ever helps me, so I’m not used to thanking people.” “That’s really sad,” he frowned. “It’s the truth,” I pushed my hair out of my eyes, heading for the driver’s door. “I’ll see you… sometime.” “Row?” “Yeah?” I turned back around and he was right there. He reached out, caging me between his arms, his hands resting on the rusted hood of my car.

“Goodnight,” he whispered huskily, and then he kissed me. It wasn’t really a kiss, more a brush of his lips, but it was enough to ignite a fire in my body. I found myself leaning in, wanting more, but he was already gone. I opened my eyes, which I hadn’t realized I closed, and saw him getting into his car wearing a proud smirk. He drove away and I still stood there in the cold. I was in a daze, shocked by his brazenness and how much I’d enjoyed the barely there touch of our lips. My heart raced against my ribcage and I reached up to place shaking fingers against my lips. I was so screwed.

My car wouldn’t start. It was completely dead. No lights. No clicking. Zilch. I had stopped at the drugstore close to school before heading to class to pick up a few things and now I was stranded in the parking lot. If I had to I could walk to campus from here, but it was a particularly windy day and my backpack probably weighed fifty pounds. I tried to comfort myself with the fact that today was a review day, but I still hated to miss a class. I prided myself on perfect attendance and grades. I grabbed my phone, calling the insurance company so they could send for a tow truck. I was told to wait with my car and that a tow truck would arrive within thirty minutes to an hour. Great. It was too cold for me to stay in my car, so I grabbed my backpack and headed inside Walgreens. I spoke to the cashier, explaining the situation, and asked if she minded if I worked on some homework while I waited. It wasn’t an issue, so I picked a spot close to the door so I’d see the truck when it came, but far enough away that I wouldn’t freeze every time it opened. I had most of my homework done, only a review sheet left to fill out, so that took me no time at all. I pulled the book I was reading out of my bag and propped it on my knees. One of the perks of working at the library was the convenience of getting a new book to read. I couldn’t afford a new book all the time—and I read fast—so it was nice to be able to check one out whenever I wanted. Every time I read a page, I’d glance up in the hopes that the tow truck had arrived. But it wasn’t here yet, and I’d been sitting here for close to an hour. It would be my luck that it would take closer to two hours to arrive. Just when I was starting to get really pissed off, the truck pulled into the lot. I shoved my stuff in my backpack and slung it over my shoulders. I stopped just as the automatic doors swooshed open. You had to be kidding me. Wentworth Wheels, read the name on the side of the truck. It figured my insurance company would pick the one repair shop run by Trent’s older brother. I took a deep breath and forced myself to step outside and face this like a big girl. “I believe I know you,” Trace said as he climbed out of the truck. Trace was Trenton’s older brother. They both looked alike with their dark hair and build, and both always seemed to forget to shave. The big difference between the two was Trent had blue eyes and Trace had green. “I haven’t seen you in a long time. Rowan, right?” I nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Hey, Trent!” He called. “Come here! It’s Rowan!” My eyes threatened to bug out of my head as Trent rounded the front of the truck. Even when he wasn’t trying to find me he was there. I couldn’t escape him—and who was I kidding? I kind of liked seeing him. He smiled an easy grin, casually leaning against the side of the truck. He didn’t approach me like expected. Instead he hung back, like he was waiting for me to make the first move. I had news for

him, he’d have to keep waiting. “Looks like you’re in need of some help, Row,” Trent nodded at my dead car. “Yeah,” I grumbled. “Luckily,” Trent took a few steps forward, “my brother here knows exactly what he’s doing, so you’re in good hands.” He clapped Trace on the shoulder. Trace reached up to push his hair from his eyes and a wedding ring glinted on his left hand. I wondered when that had happened. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you fixed up in no time. The Wentworth brothers know exactly what they’re doing.” Something about the way he said it made me think he wasn’t just talking about cars. “You work on cars too?” I asked Trent. He nodded, smiling crookedly. “Only when I’m home on breaks and during the summer.” “I didn’t know that.” Trent stepped forward until we were so close that when the wind blew my hair brushed his chest. He grabbed a piece of my flying hair and rubbed it between his fingers, then reached up to tuck it behind my ear. “Remember, Rowan, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” “I know plenty,” I snapped, taking a step back to distance myself from him. The scent of his cologne was making me dizzy as memories of last night—his lips pressed so tenderly to mine—flickered through my thoughts. I wanted to deny enjoying the kiss, but I had. After I went home, it had been all I could think about. “Ah,” he reached out, running the back of his fingers along my cheek, “but a person does a lot of changing in five years.” “You might have changed, Trent,” I pulled my hair back so it wasn’t blowing in my face, “but so have I. I’m not the girl you remember from high school. She died a long time ago.” Trent frowned, a wrinkle marring his forehead. “I don’t care who you were or who you’ve become. You’re still you.” I shook my head. “I don’t know who I am anymore, so how do you expect to ever know the real me?” “I’ll find her,” he said triumphantly, “I always did like a challenge.” “Don’t you see? I don’t want to be a challenge for you—something to conquer and brag about.” My eyes darted to the ground as I wrapped my arms around my body to protect from the searing wind. “I never said I wanted to conquer you,” he shook his head. “How do you always manage to misconstrue what I say?” I shrugged, kicking a pebble with the toe of my worn shoe. “It’s a talent.” He stepped forward again, grabbing my wrist so I couldn’t get away. “I don’t care what you say, I know you feel whatever this is that we have. Don’t think for a minute that I haven’t noticed the way your breath falters when I get too close or how your eyes flash with desire. I definitely can’t forget the way you responded to me last night,” his voice lowered to a husky whisper that had desire filling my belly. “You can’t deny that you liked it when I kissed you.” He was right. I couldn’t refute it. I had liked kissing him. “That doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again,” I countered. “Why do you insist on denying what we have? Are you really that stubborn?” He narrowed his eyes. “I know you feel it,” he whispered, stepping so close to me that my nose was pressed against his chest and his warmth enveloped me like a cozy blanket. His hand found mine, entwining our fingers together. “Don’t fight it.” I jerked back, wrenching my hand from his. Disgust coated my tongue like a sticky syrup. “I can’t do this, Trenton.” “What is it exactly that you think you can’t do?” He pressed forward. He wasn’t going to let me escape. I wished Trace would rescue me, but he was occupied in looking my car over. I swallowed thickly, my pulse jumping. “I don’t think you understand what I’ve been through,” my voice was hushed with shame. “I’m… incapable of loving. Not just you, but anyone. The only people I love is my little brother and sister. It’s like some fundamental piece of me is missing,” I spoke fiercely, getting heated. “I’m. Not. Whole.” He took my face between his two large hands, staring down at me with a determined glint in his blue eyes. I swallowed thickly, my pulse fluttering in my throat. I thought for sure he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. “Then let me make you whole.” I was saved from answering by his brother calling us over. Thank goodness I hadn’t had to reply. I don’t know what I would’ve said, probably something not very nice.

“Bad news, it’s not the battery,” Trace frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your starter’s gone out. It’s going to be about two-hundred dollars to have it fixed.” Tears stung my eyes and I promptly closed my eyes so neither of the brothers could see how upset I was. I counted to ten, breathing deeply. When I had myself under control again I opened my eyes and said, “Tow it. It has to be fixed. I don’t have any other choice.” “Row—” “I’m fine,” I snapped, cutting Trent off. “It’s fine.” He appeared skeptical, but didn’t say anything. I went back inside the store while the brothers got my car hooked onto the back. I couldn’t help and I was freezing anyway. When they had it hooked up I was forced to get in the truck with them. I sat in the middle, caged in, and I began to feel extremely claustrophobic. “Can you drop me off at the university?” I asked. “Sure,” Trace shrugged. “Will you have a ride home?” “Yeah.” I knew I could get either Tatum or Jude to drive me to work and pick me up. “I’ll try to have this done tomorrow. I have everything I need to fix it, it’s just a matter of how much time I have,” he explained. “If you could have it done today it would be so helpful. I always take my little brother and sister to school in the mornings, and we don’t have a spare car,” I rambled. “It’ll be done today,” Trent assured me, leaning forward to eye his brother. “Today,” he repeated. Trace didn’t say anything, he merely leaned his elbow against the window, and a small smile played on his lips. Clearly his brother amused him. Trace pulled into the parking lot and I directed him to where I needed to be dropped off. Trent hopped out of the truck and reached up to give me a hand to help me down. A part of me didn’t want to accept his hand, but I didn’t have much choice if I wanted to get out of the mammoth truck without breaking an ankle. I finally placed my hand in his, after an awkward hesitation. I forced myself to ignore the tiny zings coursing through my body at his touch. I jumped down, stumbling to the side. “Whoa,” he grabbed my waist to steady me. “You okay?” I nodded, embarrassment causing my cheeks to flush. He reached inside the truck for my backpack and handed it to me. “I’ll make sure he gets it done today. Even if I have to hold a gun to his head,” he winked. “Thanks,” I forced a smile, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “I really have to go. I’m already late.” “Of course,” he climbed back in the truck. “See you later.” “See you later,” I whispered, standing there and watching the truck disappear.

Tatum’s car was still being fixed, so luckily Jude was nice enough to be my chauffeur for the day. He pulled into the parking lot of Wentworth Wheels, and I took a deep breath as I prepared to see Trent again. This many times in only a few days was getting to be a bit much—especially since I hated how much I enjoyed seeing him. “I’m gonna head out,” Jude said, already putting the car in reverse, “if for some reason it’s not ready, just call me and I’ll come back.” “Thanks,” I told him, slipping out of the car. I headed into the shop through the open garage door. “Hello?” I called out, looking around. The place looked deserted. “Hello?” I ventured further into the shop. “Hey!” Trent called from somewhere in front of me. “I’ll be there in a second!” I stopped where I was and waited for him. I looked around and found the garage to be oddly neat and tidy. Don’t get me wrong, it was a repair shop so there were plenty of tools and the occasional grease spot on the ground, but it looked nicer than most. Trace had done a good job with the place. I remembered what a dump it had looked like before. “Here’s your keys,” Trent grinned, appearing in front of me. He dangled them in front of my face, but when I went to grab them he lifted them too high for my reach. “Not so fast,” he wiggled a finger in front of my face. “What do you want?” I rolled my eyes, a disgusted breath whizzing past my lips. “Well,” he clutched my car keys in his fist, “since I was a good guy and stood over my brother all day

to make sure he got this fixed for you, I think I deserve to be rewarded.” “Rewarded, huh?” I raised a brow in disbelief. “Mhmm,” he nodded, smiling crookedly. “Go to dinner with me.” “Yeah, um, no. I don’t have time. I have to get home to take care of Tristan and Ivy, which means no time for dinner. Now, please, give me my keys,” I held my hand out. “Fine. Say no. Crush my dreams,” he wiped away a pretend tear. “I think you’ll live,” I rolled my eyes again, taking the keys from him. “How come you didn’t fix it?” I questioned. He smirked. “I would have, but my talents are more useful elsewhere.” “Talents?” He shrugged. “Okay, that’s a lie. I’m not very talented, at least when it comes to cars, Trace has got me beat there. All I can do is change oil and rotate tires. I assure you, though, I’m extremely talented in many other ways and if you’d like me to show you I’d be more than happy.” He smirked, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips. “Uh… no thanks,” I shook my head. “I don’t need a demonstration.” “Aw, too bad,” he bit his bottom lip. I shook my head. I really needed to stop being distracted by Trenton. “How much do I owe you guys?” “I already paid him,” Trent shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why would you do that?” I asked through gritted teeth. “Because I wanted to,” he answered simply. “Did you think for a second that maybe I didn’t want your help?” My temperature was rising as anger filled me. “I don’t need you to take care of me.” “Think of it as a friend doing a friend a favor,” he shrugged casually. “Don’t worry about it.” I don’t think Trent understood how guilty I felt. I knew he had the money to blow, but that didn’t matter to me. I didn’t like being seen as a damsel in distress. This princess could take care of herself. I didn’t have time to stand there and argue with him, so I found myself saying, “Fine, but don’t do it again.” He smiled triumphantly. “Your car’s parked out front to your right,” he said, backing away. I couldn’t tell if he was angry that I’d turned him down or what. “And Rowan?” “Yeah?” I turned back to face him. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

I tucked Tristan and Ivy into bed, kissing each of their foreheads. I closed the door behind me and set about cleaning the kitchen. I was supposed to pick up Tatum in thirty minutes, so we could hopefully get some homework done. I didn’t know what went on at Tatum’s house, but I got the impression that her parent’s didn’t get along at all. I hated leaving the kids once I got home, but they’d be asleep and never know I was even gone. If they woke up and needed me, I wouldn’t be here, and that worried me. Only my mom was home, who was currently passed out in her bed, the floor littered with various bottles of alcohol. I had no idea where Jim was, or if he was even coming home. Once the kitchen was wiped down and the dishes were clean, I checked to see if the kids had fallen asleep. Both were snoozing peacefully and I knew I could make my escape. As much as I hated to leave them, I needed to get out of the house more. My mom had been unbearable when I arrived home and didn’t shut up until she passed out. I needed to get away from this toxic environment for a while. It was killing me, but I wasn’t ready to escape yet. I grabbed my backpack and purse from my room. I scribbled a note explaining where I was and shoved it under the kid’s bedroom door in case they awoke. When I pulled in front of Tatum’s house she was already waiting outside. She hopped down the front steps and hurried to my car. “It’s freezing,” she shivered. “Then why were you waiting outside?” I questioned as I pulled away. “I couldn’t get out of that house soon enough,” she grumbled under her breath, looking out the window. “I hate it there. I just want to get away.” I didn’t bother asking her about her home problems. It wasn’t my business, and besides, I knew all about how easy it was to become trapped. I drove to a local coffee shop that was open all night and that we’d often used for homework nights before. I ordered a latte and a muffin. I normally didn’t indulge in such frivolous things, but since Trent had bought the groceries for me the other night I had the extra cash to treat myself. I sat down at the table in the corner and Tatum left to order herself something. I pulled my books out of my backpack, sighing heavily at the amount of work I had to do. It never seemed to end. For once, I wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted to be able to sleep in and go out with friends. I wanted to let myself be with someone. But I couldn’t do those things. I had to focus on getting through school and making high enough grades that I got accepted into the nursing program. I had to be able to take care of Ivy and Tristan. My mom and step-dad didn’t do it now. It was all on my shoulders, and I was beginning to bow under the pressure. I was one person and I could only handle so much. I removed the lid from my coffee so it could cool down. Tatum returned, pulling her blonde hair into a ponytail. She looked exhausted, with bruise like shadows under her eyes. A part of me wanted to ask her if everything was okay, but I knew how much I hated being asked the same thing, so I kept my mouth shut.

I opened one of my books, flipping to the right page. I felt too tired to do homework, but I didn’t have a choice. I only hoped we’d both be able to finish in two hours. I needed to get some sleep before class tomorrow. It was our last day before break and while we weren’t starting anything new, I was sure they’d give us plenty to do for the few days we got off. I had learned early on that there was no such thing as a break. I took a tentative sip of coffee, not wanting to scald my mouth. It was the perfect temperature though. Griffin, the owner of the coffee shop—that was really a coffee shop, restaurant, and a place for local musicians to perform—always got everything just right. I had never really talked to the guy—he was older and always pretended to be grouchy—but he seemed like a cool guy. He kept the place open round the clock. He and his wife mostly ran the place, with the help of a few employees. They did a really good business with all the local college kids. An hour later I was out of coffee, had eaten my entire muffin, and thought if I read one more word I might fall over. “I’m getting more coffee,” I told Tatum as I stood. She nodded in acknowledgement of my words, but didn’t look away from her laptop. “Same thing?” Griffin asked as I approached the counter. I nodded. “No muffin this time, it was delicious though.” He punched something into the register and gave me the total. “Yeah, my wife makes them from scratch. Best muffins in the whole world.” I handed him the money and took my cup of coffee. As I was turning I bumped into someone. “Shit,” I cursed, doing a little dance to avoid spilling my hot coffee all over the person. Some sloshed on the floor, but I managed to miss the guy. “I’m so—you’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned. “Do you have a tracking device on me or something? This is so not cool.” Trent smirked, tilting his head as he studied me with those piercing blue eyes. “Maybe you’re following me.” “I was here first,” I responded, cringing at my words. I sounded like a whiny child. “Anyway,” I moved around him, backing towards the table, “sorry for almost spilling coffee on you,” I ground the words out. “Apology accepted,” he smiled, his eyes sparkling. He turned to Griffin to place his order and once he wasn’t looking I ran for the table, falling into my seat. “What the hell?” Tatum exclaimed, surprised at my abrupt arrival. “No more coffee for you if it makes you that hyper.” “It’s not the coffee,” I whispered, letting my hair fall forward to shield me. “Then what—” She looked over her shoulder to see what I was staring at. She smiled. “Ah, I see now,” she laughed. “I don’t know why you don’t face facts, y’all so want to do each other, so get it over with already.” I spat out my coffee, surprised at her words. She ducked to avoid the spray, but some still landed on her shirt. “I can’t believe you said that,” I grabbed a napkin, wiping up droplets of coffee. “Hey,” she shrugged, “you two are the ones who have sex with your eyes.” “Who’s having sex?” I closed my eyes, my whole body flushing in embarrassment. Trent grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the table. “Please, don’t stop talking on my account. It sounded like you were getting to the good part.” Tatum sat forward, propping her head on her hand. “I was saying that clearly you’re both attracted to each other,” she pointed from me to Trent, “so you might as well do it and get it over with. It’s going to happen eventually.” “Tatum!” I shrieked. “It’s true!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands dramatically in the air. “Well,” Trent tipped his chair back on two legs with a smirk gracing his full lips, “I’m happy to hear I have someone on my side. Not that I only want to do the lovely Rowan,” he nodded in my direction, “I want much more than that.” I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please.” “What?” He raised a brow. “It’s not possible that a guy might want more than sex? Come on, Row, you

know I’m not some player looking to get in your pants for one night.” He eyed me, daring me to refute him, but I couldn’t. I did know Trent, and I knew he wanted much more from me than sex, and that’s what scared me the most. Trenton wanted all of me, specifically my heart, and it wasn’t something I could give away. I couldn’t deny my attraction to him though. I did yearn for him, but he wanted more than I was willing to give. “Go on a date with me,” he pleaded. “You, me, and a delicious dinner. I’m not asking for anything else.” Tatum kicked my shin from beneath the table, willing me to say yes. “No.” Trent stood, replacing the chair he’d sat in back to the table it belonged with, and grabbed his cup of coffee. Pointing a finger at me, he said, “I knew you’d say that. But it won’t stop me from asking you again and again, until one day you do say yes. See you later, Rowan.” With that, he turned sharply on his heel, and headed out the door. The bell dinged above the door, signaling his departure. “Why won’t you go on a date with him?” Tatum asked, her mouth agape with shock. “He’s hot and he’s nice, that’s a winning combination in my book.” “I don’t date,” I stated bluntly. “I don’t have time for a relationship. It wouldn’t be fair.” “Excuses, excuses,” Tatum shook her head, a few strands of blonde hair escaping her ponytail to frame her face. “I know you’re busy with school, and taking care of your brother and sister, but you have to find time to do something for yourself. What’s so wrong with letting yourself have some fun?” “It’s complicated.” “I don’t see anything complicated about it. You like him. He likes you. Go for it. Live a little,” she smiled as she started packing her stuff up. Live a little. I pondered those words, wondering if I could do it—if I could branch out and let myself give in to my desires.

Jude and I walked across the parking lot towards our cars. Today had been the last day of classes before our short break. Unfortunately, the professors hadn’t been kind enough to cut us some slack so I had plenty of homework to occupy my time—which I had been sure would happen. “Wanna grab something to eat before you go to work?” Jude asked me. “I’m starving and I’d really like to have a pretty girl to sit with me.” “Jude,” I grumbled, “I really don’t have the time.” “You have an hour before you need to be there,” he bumped my shoulder with his as we stopped beside my car. I stared up at him. “The fact that you know my work schedule is mildly disturbing. Don’t you have better things to do to occupy your time than take me to dinner?” “That would be a no,” he grinned, adjusting the beanie he wore. “Come on, Row. I’ll even buy your meal.” I was hungry, and while I’d been planning to use my spare hour of studying, I decided what the heck. I did deserve to have some fun now and then. “Okay,” I agreed. Jude appeared taken aback. “Excuse me, can you repeat that? I don’t think I heard you right.” He turned his ear towards me. “I said okay,” I shrugged. “It’s a miracle folks,” Jude began to clap like we had an audience. I rolled my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” “And you’re always turning me down. This is a moment that should be documented in history.” “Oh, whatever. You know I’m busy,” I told him. I did feel bad though, that I tended to ignore my friends, but I had so much going on and they didn’t even know the half of it. “Yeah, I know,” he reached up and removed his beanie, twisting it in his hands, “but sometimes you need to be a normal twenty-one year old for a while. Otherwise you might go crazy.” He tweaked my nose. I pushed his hand off of me, glaring at him. “We haven’t even gotten dinner yet, and I’m already regretting my decision to say yes.” “Oh, Row, straight to the heart,” he put a hand against his chest, dramatically acting like he’d been shot. People were beginning to stare. “Quit it, Jude,” I grumbled under my breath, not liking the unwanted attention. “Aw, come on, Row, don’t get so worked up,” he slung an arm over my shoulders. I shrugged his arm off. “Are we going to eat or not? I do have to get to work,” I warned him, grabbing a clip off my bag and using it to pull my hair out of my face. “Alright, bossy pants. Let’s get some food in you. You get grumpy when you’re hungry,” he smirked.

“I’ll follow you,” I opened the driver’s door of my car. “I knew you liked looking at my butt, Row,” he winked, sauntering away. “Your truck! I’ll follow your truck! Who said anything about looking at your butt?” I called after him. He threw his head back and laughed, completely ignoring me. Ugh. Jude could be so irritating sometimes. I got in my car, tossing my purse and backpack onto the passenger’s seat. I followed his truck out into the traffic and through the town. He parked on the street and I was lucky to grab a spot not too far away from his. He jogged over to where I was, blowing air into his hands. “Fuck, it’s cold,” he groaned. “It’s not that bad,” I shrugged. “There isn’t even any snow.” He rolled his eyes, jumping in place. “It’s cold,” he stated. “You’re crazy and feel nothing.” I chose to ignore his statement. “Lead the way. I don’t know where we’re going.” Jude shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked both ways before jogging across the street. I did the same, letting my long legs carry me to the sidewalk. He led me up a set of steps and in through the back of the restaurant. We passed a formal dining room and bathrooms, before it opened up into a large bar. I saw a door leading to a deck and outdoor patio, but of course it wasn’t open in the winter months. Jude picked a booth in the back corner. I took the seat across from him, looking around. “You’ve never been here?” He asked. “No,” I shrugged, running my finger along the shiny lacquered tabletop. “I don’t have extra money to go out to eat at nice places like this.” “Row…” I looked up and flinched when I saw the pity in his gaze. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t ashamed that I was poor. Lots of people were. But I hated when people looked at me like I was missing out on stuff because of my lack of money. I already knew I was and I didn’t need to see the reminder in their eyes. “Just the two of you?” A waitress appeared beside our table, glaring at Jude. Geez, I couldn’t go anywhere with guy. Had he slept with everyone? “Yeah, just the two of us,” Jude replied, leaning back in the booth with an easy grin. She dropped the menus on the table and the plastic made a smacking sound as it hit the table. “What can I get you to drink then?” “Water,” I answered. “Same,” Jude replied, smiling at the waitress. She rolled her eyes and turned sharply on her heel. “She’s so going to spit in my drink,” I grumbled. Jude chuckled, pulling off his beanie and running his fingers through his hair. “Nah, she won’t bother you. It’s me that’ll be drinking her spit.” “Ew,” I wrinkled my nose. “Anyway,” I picked up the menu, “what’s good here?” “Everything,” he replied. “That’s real helpful, Jude.” “Hey, it’s the truth,” he chuckled, scratching his stubbled jaw. Since I was starving and running out of time before I had to get to work, I ordered a turkey club sandwich. Jude ordered the same and cheese fries for an appetizer. “Uh… Rowan?” He leaned forward with both his hands on the table, looking at something over my shoulder. “Yes?” I responded, inspecting my water for any foreign substances. “Do you have a boyfriend?” “God no, Jude! You know that! And no, I’m not going to date you!” “Hey,” he raised his hands in defense, “I know you’re not interested in me, that’s why we’re friends. But that dude over there is glaring at me like he wants to rip my balls from my body.” “Thanks for that disturbing visual, Jude,” I groaned. I looked over my shoulder to see who he was talking about, but couldn’t see anything, because the top of the booth blocked my line of sight. “Did he leave?” I asked. “Nope,” Jude picked up the wrapper from his straw and began playing with it, “he’s still staring. I

think he’s planning to kill me and trying to figure out the best place to hide my body so no one finds me.” He reached across the table and took my hand. “If I don’t make it out of this alive, please tell my mom I love her.” “Are you sure you’re not studying to be an actor?” I pulled my hand from his grasp. “Oh, fuck,” Jude paled, sitting up straight, “he’s coming over. I think he’s pissed that I held your hand.” “Hello, Rowan.” Both words were said through gritted teeth, telling me the person who spoke them was beyond mad. A shiver danced down my spine as I recognized the voice. “Hi, Trenton.” I tried to keep my tone light and sound unaffected, even though my whole body was humming with pleasant zings at his close proximity. “You know this guy?” Jude asked me, his mouth falling open in shock that I might possibly know someone other than him that possessed a penis. I nodded. There was no way I could deny it, and I didn’t want Trent to cause a scene. Well, an even bigger scene. “Oh, she knows me better than I’m sure she knows you,” Trent smiled—and there was nothing pleasant about it—as he slid into the booth beside me. “Who are you?” “You don’t have to say anything,” I warned Jude, taking a sip of water. Trent glared at me. Jude swallowed thickly, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “I’m Jude.” “And are you on a date with my friend here?” Trent tilted his head towards me. “No-o-o.” Jude’s voice shook. Scaredy-cat. “We’re just grabbing a bite to eat.” Jude was a tough guy, and I found the fact that he was scared of Trent to be hilarious. I’m sure with the way Jude got around he’d run into plenty of jealous boyfriends, and had to fight his way out of a sticky situation, but something about Trent had him shaking in his boots. “Yeah, and I bet you’re trying to figure out how you’re going to get her to go back to your place, aren’t you? I bet she’s just another conquest to someone like you. I know your type. You’re always looking for an easy fuck. So, I suggest you look elsewhere.” My eyes widened and my jaw dropped at Trent’s words. I punched his arm as hard as I could, forcing him to acknowledge my presence. I could tell Jude was pissed too, and opened his mouth to say something to Trent, but I didn’t need Jude to fight my battles. “I can’t believe you just said that to him,” I spat at Trent, keeping my voice hushed so we didn’t disturb the other people in the restaurant. “Yeah, well,” Trent reached up and ran his fingers nervously through his hair, obviously ashamed of his behavior, “I’m a bit pissed off that you keep wanting to brush me off, but you’re out with this guy. You turned me down for dinner last night, but here you are with him,” he pointed a forceful finger at Jude. “This guy,” Jude pointed to himself, “has a name, and it’s Jude. J. U. D. E.” “Do I look like I care?” Trent glared, his nostrils flaring with anger. “I’m not on a date, so stop being rude to him,” I told Trent. I was tempted to kick him, but since he was beside me, that would’ve been quite difficult. “Then what are you doing?” Trent looked from me to Jude. “Why should I tell you? You’re the one that came over here like a dog pissing on its territory,” I seethed. “Oh, this is good,” Jude chuckled. I turned in his direction to see him shoving cheese fries in his mouth. “Please, continue.” I ignored Jude and went back to glaring at Trent. I was embarrassed by his behavior and I knew I’d have a lot of explaining to do, because Jude would want to know what was going on between Trent and I. I’d do my best to avoid that conversation for as long as possible. I didn’t want to go into details with Jude about my past with Trenton. “And you’re the one that acts like you hate me, then I kiss you, and it’s obvious you do want me,” Trent countered, referring to the night after we shopped for groceries. “You can keep denying this as long as you want, but as long as your body continues reacting to me, I’ll keep coming back.” “You kissed him?” Jude asked, dipping three fries in ranch. Of course, out of all of that the only part Jude noticed included kissing. “He kissed me,” I argued, glaring daggers at the two guys. “And it hardly was a kiss at all.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel better,” Trent smirked in my direction. “Can I have some of those?” He asked Jude, pointing to the fries. “Sure, as long as you promise not to kill me and cut me up into tiny pieces,” Jude shrugged, sliding the plate closer to where Trent and I sat. I guessed they were best friends forever now thanks to the magical bond of cheese fries. “Now, tell me about this kiss,” Jude probed Trent for answers. “There’s nothing to tell,” I spoke up before Trent could open his big fat mouth. “It was a simple kiss goodnight,” Trent shrugged, taking a fry as he talked over me. “You naughty girl. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Jude winked. “Why would I tell you?” I muttered under my breath. “You’re a guy. Besides, it wasn’t worth talking about.” “Burn,” Jude coughed, eyeing Trent warily in case he decided to jump across the table and strangle him. “Well, then,” Trenton turned to face me, a challenge glimmering in his blue eyes, “I guess I’ll have to give you something to talk about then.” “Huh?” In a lightning fast move, he grabbed my face between his large hands and pressed his lips against mine. The kiss was demanding and forceful, but somehow still passionate. It was the kind of combination that left your world spinning. I found my traitorous body responding to the feel of his tongue against my lips. I felt insecure and unsure what to do. I hadn’t been with anyone since Trenton and that had been five years ago, so I was clearly out of practice. I found that my body seemed to know what to do though, despite my lack of knowledge. I grasped his sweatshirt between my fingers, curling the fabric into my fist. His tongue flicked against mine and a soft moan escaped me. My mind had gone completely blank and all I could do was feel. My lips followed his in a passionate dance. Cold water flicked against my face and I pulled away from Trent. We both wiped our faces and looked in the direction the water had come from. Jude sat there grinning, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Y’all looked like you needed a cold shower. Seeing as how we’re a little low on showers at the moment,” he looked around the restaurant, “I thought this would suffice,” he pointed to his glass of water. My cheeks flamed. I couldn’t believe I’d just let Trent kiss me like we were making a porno in the middle of a restaurant. I pushed Trent’s shoulders and he looked down at me. “What?” “Get out,” I pushed him harder. “I’m not leaving.” He refused to budge and he wasn’t a little guy, so I was making no headway with my efforts to dump him on the floor. “I need to go to the bathroom.” That got him to move. As soon as I was free, I ran to the bathrooms. I didn’t want either of them to see me upset. I turned the water on, lightly splashing my face. I counted to ten in my head—but it did nothing to calm me down. Trenton was the only person that had the ability to mess with my emotions. Normally, I was calm, cool, and collected. Trenton Wentworth turned me into some weepy, weak, little girl. I prided myself on being strong and not needing anyone. But being around Trent made me question what it would be like to have someone. Well, not someone. The only person I could ever see myself with was Trent. I knew it would be unfair to let myself be with him, even if it was only for a little while. Once upon a time he’d told me he loved me, and I knew I could never return that emotion. The only people I loved were Tristan and Ivy. I knew they’d never leave me, but Trent? He would, eventually. Like all other guys, he’d get bored and move onto another plaything. I couldn’t allow myself to get attached. Oh, who was I kidding? I was already attached. I’d belonged to Trenton since I was sixteen years old. The bathroom door creaked open and I looked up. In the mirror my eyes connected with Trent’s. My heart raced in my chest, thumping harshly against my ribcage. I didn’t want to, but I did care about him. Maybe it was some silly teenage crush still lingering, or maybe it was just Trent, but I knew if he kept hanging around I wouldn’t be able to ignore the temptation. He was dangerous for me, like a sweet intoxicating drug, and I was too dumb to tell him to leave—not that it would work anyway. I was sick and tired of fighting my primal desire to own him. I was done denying myself what I wanted, and oh how I wanted Trent. For so long, I’d put everyone else before me, and wasn’t it time I did something that I wanted?

I licked my lips, my breath echoing against the tile walls. Neither of us said anything. We simply stared, chests heaving, waiting for the other to make the first move. I swallowed thickly and forced myself to turn around and face him. My eyes connected with his once more and butterflies took up residence in my stomach. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and tried again, knowing these very words could change my life. “I want you.” His eyes flashed with desire and he stalked towards me. I found myself backed against the bathroom counter. He grasped my hips in his large hands and stared down at me. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.” One hand stayed planted on my hip, while the other tangled in my hair, pulling my face towards his. His lips were against mine again for the second time in a matter of minutes. But this was nothing like the kiss we’d previously shared. While that one had been hot and demanding as he tried to prove a point, this one was a slow boil, simmering in my veins. I found my legs wrapping around his waist and suddenly my back was pressed against the tiled wall and my fingers were wrapped around the silky strands of his dark hair. His tongue twined with mine in a sensual duet. He groaned low in his throat and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. My legs wrapped tighter around his waist and his arousal pressed against me. Holy shit. He nipped at my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and letting it go with a pop. I swore my temperature had risen ten degrees. Sweat broke out across my skin from the heat we were creating. He dotted kisses down my neck and back up, latching his lips onto mine. I knew I wasn’t just being kissed—I was being devoured—and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it. Being kissed like this was an all-consuming thing. I couldn’t think about anything except the feel of his lips on mine and his body pressed against me. He broke away, panting, and rested his head against the curve of my neck. He stayed where he was, holding me against the wall, with my legs still around his waist. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Why’d you stop?” I panted, my fingers curling into his hair. He pulled his head away from my neck to look at me. “I think it’s pretty obvious that I want you,” he pressed his hips into me and I gasped, “but not here and not like this. You deserve better than a public restroom and I…” He swallowed thickly, his eyes briefly closing. “I deserve to know that you do actually want this. I won’t be able to handle it if you tell me you do and the next day you’re back to ignoring me.” It hit me then that Trent was actually a pretty sensitive guy. What I had done to him—what I’d been doing—had hurt him. But I’d been hurt too and my heart was shattered beyond repair. I wanted him, though. That much was true. However, I didn’t think I could give myself to him completely. I had to hope that what I had to offer would be enough for both of us—for now at least, because I knew Trent would eventually find someone better suited for him than me. Besides, I’d never be able to let him in all the way. I couldn’t tell him everything. It was wrong of me to want him for whatever time we could have. We’d both be better off if I spoke up and told him that I couldn’t do this—that I had lied and I didn’t want him. But I couldn’t make myself form those words. Instead, “I do. I want this. I want you,” came tumbling out of my mouth. A huge grin lifted his lips and he kissed me again. Dread began to fill my stomach. I knew I’d just signed our death sentence, because there was no way my secrets would ever be able to stay buried, and when they surfaced we’d explode like a supernova. After that, it would be the end of Trent and me. No banter, no running from him, no kissing, no nothing, because I would never see him again. He’d remove himself from my life and it would all be over. Despite what I tried to tell myself, I did enjoy Trent’s random popups. Seeing him made me feel alive when I was dead inside. Without those brief moments of aliveness I’d become nothing. I was already nothing, but I’d cease to exist all together. It was too late though. I couldn’t take back my words. I had sealed our fate and all I could do was enjoy this exhilarating ride until it came to an explosive end.

The library door clicked closed behind me. It was late and I knew Tristan and Ivy were starving. I needed to get home and make them dinner. I hoped they both had their homework done so I wouldn’t have to bother with that. I started down the steps when a dark shadow to my right caught my eye. I was starting to get scared when the person stepped fully into my line of sight. “Jesus, Trent!” I put a hand to my racing heart. “What are you doing creeping around here at night?” He bit his lip, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. His breath formed foggy clouds in the cold air. “I’m sorry for showing up here like this… although I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” he chuckled, biting his plump bottom lip as he eyed me bashfully. “I needed to see you though.” “You saw me at the restaurant,” I remarked. I was still shocked that I told him that I wanted him. When we’d returned to the table he’d worn a proud smile and been the happiest I’d seen him in a long time. I still wasn’t sure if it was the best idea to explore whatever this was between us. I felt we’d both end up hurt in the end. “I needed to see you again,” he repeated, taking a deep breath as his eyes briefly closed. “Are you okay?” I questioned, my gaze carefully sliding over his body to make sure he wasn’t harmed. “Has something happened?” “Everything is fine,” he assured me. “I needed… I needed to see you before I went to bed. I have to make sure you’re okay with this… whatever this is,” he ran his fingers through his hair. “I won’t be able to handle it if I wake up tomorrow and you’re back to pretending I don’t exist. I’ve waited five years for you to come back around. I can’t…” He stopped, gritting his teeth like he was unsure if he wanted to continue with what he had to say. “I can’t handle it if all you’re doing is messing with me.” “Trenton… I… I don’t pretend to know everything and I certainly have no idea where we might be headed,” I swallowed, “but I’m yours.” His blue eyes flared brightly at my words. I don’t think he understood how much he owned me. Even at sixteen years old he’d ruined me for anyone else. He was all I knew and all I wanted. No one else could ever compare. I’d been through a lot over the years, and even then I’d known I wasn’t worthy of his love. I could never say the words back to him. I didn’t know what it was to love someone that wasn’t family. Regardless, that didn’t stop my attraction. Although, many times I’d wished it had. Even after our night in the tent, when I’d started ignoring him, every time I saw him I’d been attacked by a major case of the butterflies. Over the years that feeling never went away. Trenton was the only man that was able to tempt me. He was like an intoxicating drug that I couldn’t get enough of. I tried to stay away from him—because he might not know it, but we were bad for each other—but like any addict, I could only stay on the bandwagon so long. I was done being good. I wanted what I wanted, and that was Trent. He obviously wanted me too, so why deny myself anymore? It would end, I knew that, but at least I’d have experienced what it was truly like to be with Trent, and I’d be able to look back at those memories

with fondness. “Say it again,” he breathed, reaching up to run his thumb over my bottom lip. “I’m yours,” I whispered. For now and forever. “I’m done running. I’m done fighting what I feel,” I spoke passionately. “I’m doing this for me.” “And what is this, Row?” Trent asked huskily, leaning so close to me that if I moved an inch my lips would be on his. “What are we?” “I-I don’t know,” I answered honestly, “why does it need a definition? Why can’t we just be… us?” “Just us,” he mused. “I like the sound of that,” he grinned crookedly. I liked the sound of it too—almost too much, but I wasn’t telling him that. “As much as I’d like to stand here and chat, I’ve really got to go,” I told him, already walking away. He was quick to catch up to me, falling into step beside me. “We can walk and talk.” “What do you want to talk about?” I adjusted the strap of my purse on my shoulder. “How about we figure out where we’re going on our first official date?” He suggested, jogging in front of me and turning around to face me as he walked backwards. “Surprise me,” I rolled my eyes as he began to balance on the edge of the sidewalk. “Hmm,” he did a little hop, coming back to my side and throwing an arm over my shoulders, “I do love surprises. Whatever will I come up with?” “Nothing too crazy, please?” I begged. “And don’t drag me to another state. I do have to be home.” “I think I can come up with something in those parameters,” he chuckled, reaching for my hand. I skidded out of the way and pretended to be messing with my hair. Trenton raised a brow in puzzlement. “You don’t want me to hold your hand,” he stated. I swallowed thickly and nodded. There was no sense in denying it. I found there to be something oddly intimate about holding a person’s hand, you were connected, twined together… and that scared me. “Why?” He questioned. “I don’t know,” I lied, starting forward. The parking lot was in sight and I could make my escape from this uncomfortable conversation. “I just don’t.” “Oookay,” Trent drew out the word, his legs carrying him quickly back to my side, “no hand-holding. I’m still allowed to kiss you though, right?” “Since when do you ask for permission?” I sighed, stopping beside my car. “Good point,” he whispered gruffly, stepping so close to me that our bodies lined up. He cupped the nape of my neck in one of his large hands and drew my face towards his. “This is me not asking for permission.” My eyes closed at the first touch of his soft lips. My body melted against him and I grasped his forearms for support. I had always prided myself on having little to no reaction to the things surrounding me, I was closed off and proud of it, but Trent managed to make me feel. He barreled right through the cinderblock walls I’d built around myself. He’d never get my heart, that was too well guarded, but I knew he’d try. I forced myself to stop thinking so much and enjoy the feel of being in his arms. He backed me up against the car, towering above me. I wasn’t short, but in Trenton’s arms I felt small and dainty. His strong arms wrapped around me, protecting me from the cool wind. I kissed him back with fervor. If I was doing this, whatever this was, I was certainly going to enjoy myself. My skin began to feel heated and I forced myself to pull away. He rested his forehead against mine and we both breathed like we’d run a marathon. “I really have to go,” I told him reluctantly. For a moment, while he’d been kissing me, I’d forgotten everything I was. I’d just been a girl—Rowan Sinclair. I didn’t have all these strings tying me down. The moment his lips lifted from mine though, reality came crashing back down. I wasn’t a normal girl. I couldn’t hang out with friends and spend time with my boyfriend—if you could even call Trent my boyfriend. I had children depending on me and a future to think about. I hated it. I wanted nothing more than to stay here in his arms in this warm bubble he’d created, but I couldn’t. “Not yet,” he breathed. “Please, not yet.” “I have to,” I stared up at his handsome face. He nodded and took a step back. “What are your plans for tomorrow?” “Uh…” I paused, thinking. The kids were home from school and I had to work in the evening, so I had been planning to spend time with them. “I’m busy.”

“What about the next day?” “That’s Thanksgiving,” I sighed. This thing between us, it was going to be impossible. I could see that, and yet I wasn’t leaving, or telling him that it wouldn’t work out. Clearly, there was something wrong with me. I think maybe I was becoming a masochist. “Friday, then?” I bit my lip, thinking it over. I didn’t have anything I had to do, but I’d have to find someone to watch the kids—I wasn’t leaving them alone with my drunk mother. “Friday should work,” I nodded. Trent brightened. “I guess I better come up with something to wow you then.” “I don’t need to be wowed,” I shook my head. “Yes,” he cupped my cheek, “you do.” He slowly backed away from me, his eyes never wavering from mine. “Friday.” He stated. “Don’t even think of backing out on me. I’ll hunt you down if you do,” he winked, smiling in jest. “I don’t doubt your finder skills,” I called after him as I opened my car door. I slid inside and gripped the wheel in my hands. I didn’t pull away. I sat there thinking. There was a… giddiness fluttering through my body. It was a feeling I hadn’t felt since… well, since the night Trent and I were together in the tent. Snow flurries began to fall on the windshield and I knew I couldn’t stay here any longer. I had to get back home… back to reality.

“Row! Can I have that?” Tristan pointed enthusiastically at a bar of Hershey’s chocolate as we stood in the checkout line at the grocery store. Since I’d forgotten about Thanksgiving, I hadn’t picked up anything to make a meal while I was here with Trent. Shopping with Ivy and Tristan was exhausting. They wanted everything. “Tristan, you know what the answer is going to be, so why do you keep asking?” The little boy frowned, lowering his head. I hated always being ‘the bad guy’ and saying no, but I knew we couldn’t afford special treats. Heck, I would’ve loved some Rice Krispie Treats, but that was a luxury, and we couldn’t have those. Looking down at Tristan’s sad face, as he said nothing, threatened to crack my resolve, but I stood strong. I needed to save as much money as I could, because hopefully in a year, I could fight for custody of the kids. I needed to show the court that I was responsible. We checked out and headed to the car. The chilly air seeped through my thin coat. If this weather kept up we were going to have an unusually harsh winter. “Do we have to go home?” Ivy whined from the back of the car. I frowned. Boy, did I know the feeling of not wanting to be at home. No matter how hard I tried to make it seem like a comforting place, the kids still didn’t want to be there. When my mom and stepdad were home, you couldn’t help but feel an icy chill like they wanted you out of the way. “Uh…” I pondered. It was cold so I couldn’t take them to the playground and there wasn’t much else to do. “Do you want to go to the library and pick out some new books? It’ll be warm and Mary should be there.” “Yes!” Ivy smiled widely in excitement. “Will she have cookies?” Mary always made the best cookies and often brought them into work so we could all have some. “Cookies!” Tristan exclaimed, hopping up and down in his car seat. “I want cookies!” “Don’t get too excited guys,” I warned, “she might not have any.” “I hope she does,” Ivy licked her lips, “I love cookies.” “Me too!” Tristan piped in. I shook my head and pulled out into traffic, heading downtown to the library. I wasn’t worried about the groceries since I didn’t have anything that would melt… not that it would with how cold it was. I parked and helped Tristan out of his seat. Ivy bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet. As hyper as she was today, I wasn’t sure she needed any cookies. “We have to hold hands when we cross the street,” I warned them both. Tristan was already at the age where he didn’t want to hold my hand, but I wasn’t about to let them go running out into the road.

We crossed the street and bound up the steps. Inside, Tristan looked around in awe. “Are we in a m-m-muzum?” I laughed. “I think you mean a museum,” I ruffled his sandy hair, “and no, this is the library.” “Oh. I knew that,” he smiled up at me. “I forgot.” “It’s been a long time since you’ve been here,” I bent down, helping him out of his bulky coat—the coat Trent had picked out. I draped the coat over my arm and stood up straight. “Come on, let’s go find Mary and then we’ll go to the kids section.” “Cookies?” Tristan brightened, his little hand finding mine. “Maybe,” I shrugged. Ivy was already at the information desk, hounding Mary. “Ivy,” I scolded, “manners.” “Sorry, Ms. Mary,” she stepped back from the counter, “but do you have any cookies? I’d really like one.” I eyed her and she added, “Please.” Mary leaned on the counter, pretending to think. “I might have some cookies I can spare.” She bent down behind the counter and rummaged around. “Aha!” She placed a large metal tin on the counter. “Here’s the cookies, they’re peanut butter chip.” “I love peanut butter!” Tristan exclaimed. “Shh,” I hushed him. “We’re in a library which means you have to be really quiet,” I whispered. “Oops.” Tristan looked around. “Sowwy.” “It’s, sorry,” I corrected. “Use your R’s.” “Sorry?” He tilted his head. “Did I say it right?” “Yep, you’ve got it right.” “Does that mean I can have a cookie now?” He questioned. “Yeah, you can have a cookie,” I smiled at him. “Yay!” He said in a hushed whisper, waving his arms in excitement. “Thank you,” I told Mary. “You’re welcome,” she placed the lid back on the tin once each kid had two cookies in their hands. Whispering, she said, “Grab this on your way out. I made way too many and don’t need them.” “I can’t take your cookies,” I shook my head. “Thanksgiving is tomorrow, sweetie, my house is going to be full of sweets. I don’t need them.” “Well, thank you.” “You know you’re welcome to bring the kids and come to my house for Thanksgiving,” she offered. Mary was one of the nicest people I’d ever met and she always wanted to help. “Thanks for the offer, Mary, but I’m going to make dinner for them.” She smiled, glancing over at the kids who were sitting at one of the tables munching on their cookies. “What you do for them… it’s remarkable, Rowan.” “Hardly,” I shrugged, brushing off her comment. “No, really it is,” she continued. “Most people your age… they would’ve abandoned them, saying they have parents to look after them, but not you. You stayed.” “I have my reasons,” I murmured, staring off into space. “Regardless,” she waved her hand in dismissal of my statement, “I’m proud of you.” I looked up at her in surprise. Proud of me? No one had ever told me they were proud of me before. I’d always been told I was worthless, useless, and a pain in the ass. I wasn’t called nice things, and unfortunately I was used to it. Kindness wasn’t something I experienced often, and when I did I clung to it with strong fingers. I let her words warm me all over. I didn’t know it could feel so good to have someone tell you they were proud of you. It seemed like such a simple thing to say, but it could have such a profound effect. “I-I… thank you,” I finally said. “For what?” She tilted her head. “Nothing,” I muttered. I couldn’t explain to Mary how much her words had meant to me. I sat down at the table with Ivy and Tristan as they finished their cookies. I cleaned up their crumbs and led them to the kids’ section. “There’s so many books, Row,” Tristan looked around in awe. “There are so many books,” I corrected. “How do you expect me to choose just one?” He frowned. “I want all of them,” he put his hands on his small hips.

“Well,” I bent down, keeping an eye on Ivy, “you pick one now, we read it, and then we bring it back and you get to choose another.” His lower lip jutted out. “Can I get two? Please?” “Yes, you can get two.” It had been relatively easy to deny him a chocolate bar, but a book? No way was I telling the kid he couldn’t have two books. “Yay! I love you, Row,” he wrapped his tiny arms around my neck. I squeezed him tight, inhaling the scent of his baby shampoo. I wished he could stay this little forever —naïve of all the bad in the world. “You’re the bestest big sister,” he kissed my cheek. “Let’s get your books picked out. The library is closing early,” I told him, pulling his shirt down to cover his stomach. I let the kids each pick two books and play in the kids’ area for a little while. I sat against a shelf with my legs brought up. I draped my arms over my knees. I watched them play and talk about their books, my heart swelling with pride. I didn’t understand how someone like my mother could birth a child and not care about them. I knew there were plenty of other parents exactly like my mom, and my heart broke for those children. A child deserves to be loved, and without it, they’ll shrivel into nothing—I think that’s what happened to me. Without the love of my mom or any parental figure, I’d missed out on some fundamental development. I was closed off and emotionless. I knew it, and yet I could do nothing to stop it. Maybe one day I could learn how to feel, but I didn’t see it happening any time soon. I watched the clock, giving Tristan and Ivy a five-minute warning that we needed to leave. Neither was ready to go back home. Like me, they found solace in the peaceful library. “Alright, guys,” I stood, dusting lint off my jeans, “we have to go.” Neither gave much protest, but they did frown, their heads slightly bowed. I let them hand their books to Mary for her to scan them. She handed them back and thrust the tin of cookies at me, lest I forget it. “Have a good Thanksgiving,” she smiled pleasantly, “and the offer’s still open if you want to come to my house.” “Thank you,” I told her as I took Tristan’s hand. “We’ll be fine though.” We headed straight home and I cringed when I saw my step-dad’s truck sitting in the driveway. The last thing I needed was to deal with him. The kids helped me carry the groceries inside. When I passed Jim his hand shot out grazing the side of my butt. I cringed, bile rising in my throat. I wanted him gone from my life—him and my mom. I wanted to erase all the bad. “You been to the grocery store?” He asked, spitting into a can and scratching his round beer belly. I bit my tongue to keep from correcting his grammar. “Obviously,” I said instead, my tone short and clipped. He tilted his head, his hairy brows furrowing together. “Don’t sass me,” he warned. “You know how I feel about that,” he said in his thick southern drawl. I think Jim was from Alabama—I didn’t really know, and frankly didn’t care. I said nothing, heading into the kitchen and sitting the bags on the counter. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I took deep breaths in and out, trying to calm myself. I felt like I was suffocating under the stress of being stuck in this house. I wanted out. I wanted to break down the walls and run away, never to return. It wasn’t that easy though, nothing ever was. I wouldn’t stop trying to get away. My eyes landed on Tristan and Ivy. They deserved more than this shitty house and life. They deserved to have toys like other kids, and chocolate bars, but most importantly they deserved a future my mom could never give them. I didn’t want them to have to work as hard as I did. I wanted them to have the chance to be kids and normal teenagers. “Row?” I shook my head clear of my thoughts and looked down to see Tristan tugging on my sweater. “What?” I asked. “You did it again,” he whispered, like he was letting me in on a secret. “Did what?” I asked puzzled. “You left me…” He shrugged his small shoulders. “Sometimes you leave, and I’m scared you’re not coming back.” “But I didn’t leave,” I lowered, wrapping my arms around him, “I would never leave you, Tristan.” “He’s talking about when you zone out,” Ivy piped in, removing a box of stuffing from one of the

plastic bags. “You do it a lot,” Tristan nodded. “I don’t like it.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was doing it,” I took his small face between my hands, looking into his blue eyes. “I’ll try not to do it again,” I assured him with a light kiss to the end of his nose. “Stop babying the boy,” Jim said loudly as he entered the kitchen. “If you want him to grow up to be a man you’ve got to treat him like one.” He reached into the refrigerator for a beer. He took several long gulps and let out an obnoxious burp. “I don’t need your advice,” I snapped. “I certainly don’t want him turning out like you.” Jim’s eyes flashed with anger. “I might not be the boy’s father, but treatin’ him like a fucking fairy princess isn’t helpin’ him.” I bit down on my tongue to keep from saying anything else. I knew if I ran my mouth it would only serve to get me in trouble later. With his beer in hand, Jim headed back to the living room and to his beloved recliner. My mom was already passed out on the couch. One of these days she wasn’t going to wake up—I was sure of it, and I didn’t care. I don’t know what that said about me. With Ivy’s help I got all the groceries put away. “Can I help you make dinner tomorrow?” She asked, bashfully looking at the ground. “Of course,” I said brightly, “I’d love your help.” “Can I help too?” Tristan piped in. “Yep,” I lightly poked his tummy, making him giggle. “I like it when you guys help me. You’re the best helpers I know.” “We are?” Tristan asked with bright round eyes. I nodded. “The best.” His small lips turned down in a frown. “Shouldn’t we get a sticker? My teacher always gives me a sticker when I’m a good helper.” That got me to laugh. “Sorry, I’m fresh out of stickers, but not kisses.” I grabbed him before he could run away and smacked my lips against his cheek. “Ew, Row! You got lipstick on me!” He tried to wipe off the pink imprint left behind on his chubby cheek. “It looks good on you,” I joked. “It’s gross.” He sent me the meanest glare he could muster, which was hardly a glare at all. I didn’t think Tristan had a mean bone in his body. “Fine then, I’ll wipe it off,” I stood and led him over to the sink. I wet a dishtowel and wiped the lipstick from his cheek. “All gone.” “I wish y’all would shut up!” Jim yelled. “I can’t hear the damn TV!” Tristan looked at me with wide eyes. “He said a bad word. He should get soap in his mouth,” he whispered. I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Since Jim is cranky, why don’t we go do something in your room,” I suggested. “I can play a game with you guys,” I looked up at Ivy so she’d know I wasn’t only speaking to Tristan. “Can we build a fort?” Tristan asked excitedly. “I love forts!” “We can build a fort,” I replied, smiling at his jubilance. Little kids, I had learned, didn’t need much to make them happy. Some parents thought tossing a shiny new toy at a kid was what they wanted. That wasn’t true. All a child wanted was someone to love them, to play with them, to make them feel special. I knew that from watching Ivy and Tristan. I’d also learned from my own experience. As a child, all I had wanted was for my mom to notice me. To be more than a nuisance. It never happened though. I was always in the way. That’s what made me determined to make Tristan and Ivy’s childhood better than mine. I never wanted them to feel unloved or uncared for. I wanted them to know they were special, because it was true. Every child is special. A gift. Tristan held out his small hand and led me to the bedroom he shared with Ivy. I spent hours making forts and playing with dinosaurs beneath them. I understood the appeal to building a fort. You could pretend you lived in a different world, a world where nothing could touch you, and bad guys didn’t exist. The blankets served as a cocoon, protecting you from everything evil. You couldn’t stay hidden forever though and eventually the bad guys would find you. They always did.

“This dinner looks tasty,” Jim patted his round stomach as I leaned over to place the turkey on the table. As I pulled back his fingers grazed my breasts. I shuddered in response, revulsion clinging to me like the tendrils of vines. I started counting in my head so that I didn’t do or say something that would get me in trouble. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. After the numbers flitted through my mind I felt calmer and more centered. Since a card table served as our dining table, I chose to stand by the counter with my plate of food after I’d helped Ivy and Tristan with theirs. Besides, I didn’t want to be near Jim anyway… or my mom. I was surprised she was actually eating something and not already passed out. We all ate in silence. We didn’t have anything to talk about, so there was no point in making idle chat. Even Ivy and Tristan said nothing. My mom’s fork clattered to the ground. “Fuck!” She exclaimed, her face going red with anger. She always got so angry over the dumbest things. “Rowan! Get that!” I sighed, sitting my plate down. I wanted to tell her to get it herself, but I’d rather avoid an argument. I got down on my hands and knees, crawling beneath the table to retrieve the fork that was right beside her foot. I grabbed the fork and started to back out. My movements halted momentarily when Jim’s hand landed firmly on my butt, squeezing. Oh, hell no. I was tempted to pierce his bare foot with the fork in my hand for that one. “Ew! Jim has his hand on Row’s butt!” Tristan exclaimed. I hastily scooted all the way out and jumped up, tossing the dirty fork in the sink and grabbing a new one for my mom. She snatched it out of my hand so quickly that the prongs scratched my skin. “You little whore,” she seethed, “always enticing the men, even my husband.” Her hazel eyes—the exact same shade as mine—were full of hate. Of course she’d consider Jim touching my butt my fault, instead of seeing that the guy was a scumbag. Her thought process was so twisted. I preferred her when she was too drunk to cause trouble. She was ridiculous. I knew better than to say anything. It would only serve to make her angry, and I didn’t feel like hearing her spout hateful comments at me. If she got really mad her fists would start flying, and I didn’t want the kids to see that. She’d never hit Ivy or Tristan, only me and even that was occasionally. If she laid a hand on one of those kids though… I don’t know what I might do. Whatever it was, it would probably land my butt in jail. “I don’t know why the fuck you still live here?” She continued, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She took a long drag and continued, “Ain’t you eighteen now? I shouldn’t have to pay for your sorry ass.” Anger simmered in my veins at that comment, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “For starters, I’m twenty-one, and mom,” I said in a condescending tone, “you haven’t paid for my ‘sorry ass’ in a long time. You don’t work, and he barely makes enough money to buy a loaf of bread. So, who’s money keeps this roof over your head?” I glared at her, hatred for the woman that birthed me ate up my insides. “Me,” I pointed at my chest, “I pay for this. All so you can blow your welfare check on booze and cigarettes. So don’t preach to me about values and certainly don’t call me a whore.” I let out a lengthy breath. She shook with anger, her stringy blonde hair falling into her eyes. It looked like she hadn’t washed it in a week, which was probably the case. I knew I shouldn’t have spouted off the way I had. This wasn’t going to be pretty. She let out a roaring scream and knocked her plate to the ground. The glass shattered and food splattered against the walls. “Do not talk me that way!” She screamed. “Don’t forget everything I’ve done for you!” I swallowed thickly, anger rising inside me to match her. “What you’ve done for me?” I yelled back. I hated that the kids were seeing this, but I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. I’d retreated into the shadows, never saying anything, for all my life and finally something inside me had snapped. “What you’ve done for me is ruin my life! You’ve taken everything from me!” “You’re nothing but an ungrateful bitch,” she spat, shoving the table. It toppled over and food went everywhere. Ivy and Tristan began to cry. I couldn’t do anything to comfort them right now. My mom

stalked towards me, her hand raised to slap me. She didn’t though. “Thanks to me you have a life.” I shook my head. “You’re wrong. What life I had thanks to you was destroyed a long time ago.” My voice wasn’t angry… mostly defeated sounding. “You really hate me, don’t you, Rowan?” She stared up at me—I was at least a head taller than her. “I suppose I loved you once, like all children love their parents, but I lost respect for you a long time ago. And after everything you’ve said and done to me…” I paused, lifting my shoulders in a small shrug, “I guess I do hate you. How could I not?” Her lips twitched into a smile. A freakin’ smile. God, she was weird. “At least you own it.” “I am what I am. I feel what I feel. There’s no sense in denying it,” I stated. “You really are my daughter.” Her lips spread up into a wide smile, revealing her rotted teeth. Hearing the word daughter come out of her mouth, repulsed me. I didn’t belong to her, and I didn’t like her staking claim to me. “I’m nothing to you.” Something about those words made her snap. Her hand shot out, smacking sharply against my cheek, pivoting my head to the side. I raised a shaking hand to my stinging cheek. Tristan and Ivy’s cries grew louder. “Try that again,” I warned through clenched teeth, “and you won’t like what happens. Me, them,” I nodded at the kids, “we’ll be gone and you’ll lose all this,” I spread my arms to encompass the house. “Don’t push me, mom.” Her nostrils flared but resignation shone in her eyes. She knew that without me she’d have nothing. What she didn’t know was that I was nowhere close to being ready to leave. The rent for this place was hardly anything—seeing at it was a dump and all. I couldn’t afford a nice place yet and I knew legally I couldn’t take the kids. I’d end up arrested for attempted kidnapping. But she was dumb and didn’t know that. For now, threats were my only real weapon and I planned to use them to my full advantage. Finally, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the room. The front door slammed closed behind her. “Fuck,” Jim groaned, pulling at what little hair he had left. “Ronda!” He hopped up, running after my mom. I didn’t know he could move so fast. I guessed he knew he needed to do damage control for groping my ass. I sighed, looking at the mess of food covering the floor, the walls, and the kids. This was not going to be fun to clean up. I bent down on the floor to start the process of cleaning up, but didn’t get very far. Tristan launched himself into my arms and wrapped his around my neck. “You and mommy fighted. I don’t like it when you fight. She said bad words. I don’t like bad words,” he looked at me with wide innocent blue eyes. “She hit you. She not nice. I don’t like her. Why does she have to be my mommy? Why can’t you be my mommy, Row?” My eyes closed at his words, my throat clenching. His small hand gently rubbed my sore cheek. “Hold still. I kiss it and make it better.” My stomach tightened painfully at Tristan’s words. I held him in my arms as his soft lips touched my cheek—trying to take away my pain. If only sweet little kisses could make everything better. The world would certainly be a vastly different place.

Hey. I stared at the text message flashing on the screen of my phone. It was from a number I didn’t recognize and I wasn’t sure whether I should respond or not. It’s Trent. The text came through a minute after the first. How’d u get my #? I typed back. I knew I hadn’t given it to him and I was curious to know who had. Ran into my new best friend, Jude. Cool dude. Glad I didn’t have to fight him for u. I would’ve though. I rolled my eyes; slightly pissed that Jude had given Trent my number. Wasn’t that breaching some kind of friend code or something? I mean, I’d been asked by more than one of Jude’s conquests for his cellphone number and I never gave it away. I was nice like that. Apparently Jude didn’t return the same favor. Don’t be macho. I typed back. U went through all this trouble to get my # so what do u want? My phone began to buzz in my hand and I lifted it to my ear. “I didn’t feel like typing on that ridiculous keyboard any longer. It changes everything I type, so then I have to double check it before I click send so I don’t say penis when I mean pens,” he rambled without a breath in-between. “Do you text about pens a lot?” “I like pens,” he stated, and I knew he was smiling that crooked grin that made my insides squirm. “Anyway, I didn’t call to discuss the merits of a good ball-point. I wanted to discuss our date… that’s supposed to happen in three hours… if you haven’t backed out on me,” his voice grew slightly sad sounding. “I haven’t forgotten,” I mumbled, staring at the clothes strewn about my room. I had never cared how I dressed before. Even when we’d dated in high school, I hadn’t cared what Trenton thought of my clothes. Suddenly, though, I wanted to be worthy of being seen with him. Pathetic, I know. Over night I had turned into one of those girls. Irritated with myself I turned the phone on speaker and grabbed a pair of black leggings, shimmying into them. “I’ll pick you up at one—” “No,” I protested, clutching a loose teal sweater in my hands. Trent huffed in exasperation. “I’ve been to your house before. I know the rules, stay in the car, and do not go inside. I’ll be a good boy.” I swallowed thickly. “Okay,” I agreed reluctantly. “I’ll see you then.” With that, the line went dead. I flopped on my bed. Why the hell had I ever agreed to this? Stupid Trent and his annoying knack for being persistent. Why couldn’t he have left me alone? He knew even after all these years I still had feelings for him—it was pretty obvious in the way my body responded to him and the fact that I

always ran away from him like a child with a schoolyard crush. I knew we would never make it as a couple though. We were too different and there was so much he didn’t know—that I couldn’t tell him. Keeping my distance had been the only way, but he had to constantly pop up, and chip away at the icy shield that blocked my emotions. I knew this was bad, but I had agreed, and I couldn’t stop myself now. I wanted Trenton for as long as I could have him. Especially since no one else could ever replace him. Despite our differences, our connection was deep, it was the kind of connection most people never experienced. We understood each other better than anyone else did. Trenton had always been able to read my emotions when most couldn’t. I covered my face with my hands and let out a quiet scream so I didn’t worry the kids. I had gotten myself into a sticky situation and there was no way out—not until the both of us shattered completely. I forced myself off the bed and pulled on my sweater and boots. I picked up the mess of clothes strewn about my small room and returned them to where they belonged. I dabbed on a bit of pink gloss and some mascara—it’s all I usually wore. I opened my bedroom door and jumped back when I saw Tristan standing there, peering up at me with curiosity shimmering in his blue eyes. “You were in there for a loooooooong time. Who were you talking to?” “I was getting dressed,” I told him, tugging on the bottom of my sweater, feeling like I was about to get in trouble for something—funny, considering he was five. He tilted his small head, taking in my words. Finally he shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” At his age, he didn’t need more of an explanation, and he’d probably already forgotten that he’d heard me talking to someone. “What do you want for lunch?” I asked him, closing my bedroom door behind me. “Sammy!” He exclaimed excitedly, running towards the kitchen as fast as his feet could carry him. “What kind of sandwich?” I asked when I reached the refrigerator. “Do you want a sandwich, Ivy?” “Mhmm,” she responded from where she sat at the table drawing a picture. “Turkey, please.” I set about making the sandwiches, and made one for myself as well. I didn’t want to assume Trent and I would be getting a late lunch, so it was better to eat. I sat down at the table with the kids. Tristan droned on and on about his toy cars and Ivy listened patiently to everything he had to say. I stared off into space, my eyes focusing on a stain on the wall I hadn’t been able to remove after yesterday’s disastrous Thanksgiving dinner. Jim had gone after my mom and hadn’t returned last night or this morning. My mom had come back, and she was currently passed out in her bedroom, a trashcan full of vomit beside her. I didn’t understand how someone wanted to live like that? I guessed that was the thing though, you weren’t really living. The kids finished eating and I looked down to see that I’d only eaten half of my sandwich. I wasn’t very hungry anymore. I cleaned up, wiped down the table, and looked at the clock. I still had a good two hours to kill before Trent arrived. I needed to get the kids to the babysitter, but I wouldn’t have to do that for another hour and a half. Time had become my greatest enemy. If I allowed it, I’d end up talking myself out of this date… or whatever it was. I decided to kill the hour left by cleaning. Unlike most people I actually enjoyed doing household chores. It allowed me to keep busy. Once the whole house was spotless I checked the clock again. I had enough time left to run the kids down the road to Colleen’s—a nice older lady that occasionally kept the kids for me when I was in a pinch. She’d seen my mom in action and agreed with me that the kids shouldn’t be left with her. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about the after school time they were stuck with my mom. She was usually already passed out by that time and didn’t bother them. I didn’t know how long I’d be gone today with Trent and didn’t think it would be all right to leave them home, basically by themselves. I packed a small bag with toys and snacks. Ivy had a book under her arm and waited by the door for me. I buckled Tristan in his car seat and drove a block over to Colleen’s. She opened the door when she heard me pull in the gravel driveway. Tristan hopped out and gave me a big hug before running into Colleen’s house. Ivy hugged me as well, her eyes sad. I knew last night had really upset her and she still wasn’t over it. “Thank you for doing this,” I told Colleen, handing her the bag. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back,” I frowned. “I’ll call you when I know something.” “No rush, sweetie,” she took the bag from my hands and set it inside, using her foot to hold the glass storm door open. “I know you don’t get out much. Have fun!”

It was pretty sad that everyone seemed to notice that I rarely got out. What was wrong with that? I liked being at home with my siblings. I wasn’t missing out anything. “Thanks,” I forced a smile, and backed off the porch steps. I drove the short distance home and was getting out of my car when Trent’s black car came speeding down the road. He didn’t pull into the driveway; he parked on the street, like he had when we were teenagers. A part of me missed those days, when I’d been young and naïve. Trent had been the greatest thing to ever happen to me, but also the worst. Like an idiot here I was back for more. He rolled down the passenger window and lifted his black Ray Bans from his eyes. “Get in.” The words were slightly demanding in tone, like he thought I’d run away and he needed to be bossy, but they were softened by the easy grin he wore. I slung my purse over my shoulder and zipped up my jacket. Today wasn’t as cold as it had been in the last few days and the sky was a bright clear blue. I opened the car door and slid inside. My poor heart was beating so fast that I thought it might give out. I wasn’t going to let Trent know I was nervous, though. I’d act like I was perfectly fine. “Where are we headed?” I asked, buckling the seatbelt as he pulled away. “Not far,” was his vague reply. “That’s all I get?” He smiled crookedly. “Yeah, that’s all you get.” I stared out the window watching the trees and houses rush by. Familiar sights met me and I turned to him. “Seriously?” I questioned. “We’re going to the library? They’re closed.” Trent chuckled. “Oh, how you doubt me,” he scratched his slightly stubbled jaw. “We’re not going to the library, emphasis on the not. We’re going to be in the vicinity,” he said, turning down a street and into a parking garage. “So,” I drew the word out, “are you going to tell me what we’re doing yet?” He hopped out of the car without a reply. I followed him to where he stood, opening the trunk. He pulled out a small black bag and slung it crossways over his body. “Is that a purse?” I questioned. Trent let out a bellowing laugh that echoed around the parking garage. “A purse? Oh, that’s a good one,” he continued to laugh as he slammed the trunk closed. “If it’s not a purse, what is it?” I asked, walking beside him as we headed for the exit. “Well, seeing as how this is our first real date… as adults that is,” he winked, “I wanted to do something different.” “And by different, you mean—?” I probed. “I thought I’d introduce you to one of my hobbies,” he stopped on the sidewalk, tilting his head up to let the sun’s rays hit his skin. “Are you purposely being vague to irritate me? I can always leave,” I huffed, tossing my finger over my shoulder in the opposite direction. “Oh, how I love your sassy mouth,” he smirked, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “I love it even more when my mouth is on yours.” “So poetic,” I droned. “It makes me want to rip off my panties.” “Hey, whatever it takes,” he shrugged nonchalantly, unzipping the black bag at his waist. I peered closely to see what he was pulling out. “A camera?” I questioned. “What are you doing with a camera?” “Uh—isn’t that obvious?” He aimed it at my face and there was a clicking sound. “Did you seriously just take my picture?” “I seriously did,” he grinned boyishly. “I’m so confused. What does a camera have to do with this date?” I asked, pushing my hair out of my eyes as a light wind ruffled it. He held the camera up again, snapping another picture as he spoke. “I wanted to do something different for our date. Lunch or dinner, that’s too basic. Go-karts is for teenagers—besides they’re closed at this time of year,” he rambled as he continued to snap pictures of me. I resisted the urge to shield my face, letting him snap away. “I was about to give up hope when I was playing with Bartholomew—that’s my ferret, if you forgot—and I was struck by a genius thought. A photo shoot!” He grinned, clearly pleased with his so-called brilliant idea. I had to give him props, it was definitely a different date concept. “I would get to spend time with you, take your picture—you’re beautiful, so you make an excellent model—and we could just… hang out.” His expression was suddenly

vulnerable, and I hated that I was the reason for it. My constant rejections had genuinely hurt his feelings—so why hadn’t he given up on me? “It’s a great idea, Trenton,” I smiled—it was a small smile, but at least it was a real one. “Are you sure?” He asked, holding his camera at his side. “All of a sudden it seems kind of silly,” he frowned. He made like he was going to put his camera away and I stepped closer to him, reaching out and grabbing his arm to halt his movements. My hand tingled where it touched his skin. How could one person make my body feel so… shivery? Nobody else, and I did mean nobody, gave me those same feelings. “Don’t put it away,” I pleaded softly. “It really is a good idea. Way better than go-karts.” Trent still seemed unsure of his idea. That was something I liked about Trenton. One minute he seemed like the most confident guy ever and the next he wasn’t afraid to show his insecurities. “May I?” I asked, sliding my hand down his arm to grasp the camera. He swallowed thickly, watching with surprised blue eyes as he relinquished the camera to me. I took it from him, looking over the camera. It was rather fancy, beyond my basic knowledge of cameras, but I finally located the correct button. I started taking pictures and felt myself begin to loosen up now that I wasn’t the one under the scrutiny of the lens. “Smile, Trent,” I coaxed, “you should be the happiest guy alive, since you’re on a date with moi.” He laughed, and I snapped a picture. I stared at the large screen where the photo flashed for a moment. I liked seeing him like that, so carefree and happy, and knowing the reason he was like that was because of me. “Rowan Sinclair, did you crack a joke?” He grinned, playing with his sunglasses as I continued to take his picture. “I believe I did, Mr. Wentworth,” I smiled. This was actually pretty fun. Who would’ve thought? He reached for the camera, but I wasn’t ready to give it up. I started to run away, but I didn’t make it far. Trent’s muscular arm shot out, catching me around my middle. He spun me around. I couldn’t help but giggle at the motion. I felt weightless and free. None of my indiscretions clung to me. I was nothing but a girl having fun with a guy. I hadn’t realized till this moment how much I’d craved normalcy—and Trent was the only person that could give me that. He always managed to reveal the real me—the one that was normally a stranger to even myself. He was pretty amazing that way. He kept spinning me around until I found my back pinned against the stone wall of one of the many shops lining the old town walking mall. He slung the camera strap over his shoulder, staring into my eyes. My arms weaved behind his neck like they had a mind of their own. One of his hands ventured to my waist, grasping me just above the curve of my butt. My body arched against his. His other hand found the nape of my neck and slowly drew my face to his. He gave me plenty of time to pull away— his way of letting me know I was in control of this—when I didn’t pull away his lips slowly pressed against mine. I hadn’t realized it, but a part of me had been dying to kiss him—to really kiss him— without him surprising me or trying to prove something. This was all about us, and how we truly felt. His lips glided over mine like he’d done it a million times. I surrendered to the carnal feelings that always overwhelmed me when I was near Trenton. Our sexual chemistry was off the charts—I couldn’t deny it. Fire ignited in the pit of my belly as his kisses descended down my neck. My eyes were closed and breathy sighs escaped me. I had no thoughts for the fact that anyone could be watching us. When Trent kissed me, I couldn’t think about anything, I could only feel. I needed to let him kiss me more often. His lips claimed my mouth once more and my arms wrapped tighter around his neck. “Row,” he gasped, the sound of my name leaving his lips stirred my insides. “Just kiss me,” I took his face between my hands, pressing forward. We were tangled together and I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began. I let myself go and didn’t worry about anything else. For now, it was only Trent and I. His lips parted from mine and he backed two steps away from me. His chest rose and fell heavily with every breath. He pulled at the ends of his hair and looked down at the ground. I suddenly felt very unsure of myself. “Did I do something wrong?” I voiced my concerns. My lips tingled and my body was still humming from the kiss, but could it have been possible that he thought it was awful? He shook his head back and forth, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “No, not at all.” “Then why’d you stop?” I hated that my voice squeaked and I sounded like an insecure little girl. I needed him to answer my question though. “Because,” he said, his hands on his narrow hips, “if I didn’t stop, I never would, and I’m not prepared to go that far with you again just yet. We both need to be ready for that,” he said significantly, “and

when it happens, because it will,” he voiced with the utmost confidence, “you’re going to be in my house and in my bed. Not pressed against a wall out in the open.” My breath faltered as desire flooded my body. With a few words Trent had me imagining the two of us together once more. Something told me that the next time would be even better than the first. We were both older now and with our sexual chemistry… it would be explosive. Hell, we were already explosive without sex involved. “I—” I didn’t know what to say. He stepped forward again, cupping my cheek in one hand as one large thumb grazed my slightly swollen bottom lip. “Did my words scare you?” “No,” I answered honestly and without hesitation. “Good,” he grinned, lightly grazing his lips over mine. It was so quick that I wasn’t even sure it could be called a kiss. Regardless, the simple touch sent a shiver skating down my spine. Five years of avoiding Trenton had only made me crave him more. Now that I’d given into my desires there was no turning back. “As much as I’d like to stand here and kiss you all day,” his gaze flicked down to my lips, “we better get back to our date.” “Yeah, I guess so.” I forced my body away from the wall, which was currently the only thing holding me upright. “So…” I backed away, “are we only taking pictures on this date?” Trent grinned crookedly. “That’s only part of it, dinner’s involved, and kissing. Definitely more kissing.” I laughed, twirling around as he snapped pictures. “I thought kissing was dangerous for us?” “Oh, it is. Luckily for you, I’m a man that can control himself. I won’t ravish you until we’re both ready to beg for it,” he said huskily, hiding his face behind the camera lens. I swallowed thickly at his words, pleasure rolling through my body. I hated to admit it, but I didn’t think it would be long until I was begging him to devour me. “Hey, let’s go over there,” Trent grabbed my arm and we jogged across the street. “Lean against here,” he pointed to a brick wall with intricate graffiti covering its surface. “Look down a bit… yeah, like that… cross your arms over your chest… perfect.” Suddenly, Trent had morphed from laid back to business mode. It was kind of cool seeing him in action like this. I hadn’t known he was interested in photography. Back in high school his hobbies included video games and more video games. “When did you get into photography?” I inquired, turning my head at a different angle as he snapped away. “Uh…” He seemed hesitant to answer. After taking a few more photos, he said, “After what happened with us… I needed something to distract my mind. Pathetic, I know,” he lowered the camera, giving me a glimpse of his vulnerable face. “You hurt me.” Those three words were like a slap. I was only beginning to realize how much I had hurt him. When I left… I’d assumed he’d be like every other guy on the planet and would move on in a millisecond. Not Trent though. He was different. “I’m sorry,” I whispered after a lengthy silence. “I was scared,” I admitted, nibbling on my bottom lip. “You don’t… you don’t understand how I feel about love.” “It was a long time ago,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m over it. You don’t owe me an explanation.” I felt like I did though, but I didn’t know how I could ever make Trent understand that I felt like there was no such thing as real love. He had a wonderful mom and loving grandparents—his dad had already passed away when I met him. Someone that had grown up surrounded by such warmth, couldn’t possibly understand why my heart was frozen—forever an icy tundra never to be conquered. I simply nodded, taking the opening he gave me. Sometimes, it was better not to try to explain yourself. I’d only end up sounding like a crazy person. “Anyway,” he lifted the camera once more and I adjusted my pose, leaning slightly forward as my long hair whipped around me, “photography became an escape for me. It allowed me to look at the world in a different light.” “Is that what you’re studying at college?” He nodded. “Photography and graphic design. I guess neither Wentworth brother is going to take over the family business,” he lowered the camera so I couldn’t miss his wink. “I can’t imagine being chained to a desk all day. I think I’d shoot myself just to have something to do.” “What will happen to the business then?” I asked. Trenton’s family had started an ammunition business a long time ago—the business had boomed and today the family was worth billions. Trent shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll keep it, but hire a CEO or something. My mom’s running it now. When

she’s ready to retire, we’ll figure something out,” he sighed. “For now, it’s not my problem.” I frowned, a little bit surprised by the sharpness of his words. They were so un-Trent-like. Normally, he was the guy coming up with a solution, not the one shrugging it off with mutters of it not being his problem. I guessed that worry was so far down the road that he didn’t see the point in thinking about it, but… God, I thought too much. “Tilt your head up a bit,” he directed, back to the task at hand. I did as he directed, my gaze sliding towards him. He looked down at the camera screen and a grin formed on his face. “Oh, that’s a good one.” We moved on to another location—one where he had me sit on a crumbling half wall. I was afraid I might fall, but Trent assured me that if I started to tumble, he’d catch me. I reclined back, letting my long hair blow around me in the light wind. I was getting cold, but I was having too much fun to tell him to stop. I’d thought this was silly at first, but it was actually pretty fun. For the first time in five years, I was enjoying myself. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and let the sun’s rays fan across my face. A small smile lifted my lips as I reveled in an emotion I so rarely felt. Happiness.

Trent came to a stop in front of my house. We’d been gone for hours, and sadly I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet, but I had to. Cinderella’s time at the ball was up. Reality had returned. “Thank you for today,” he turned to me, his eyes reading my face. “I had a great time,” I told him, my words sounding silly to my ears. “Good,” he smiled. His blue eyes darkened to navy as he watched me. “I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered so low I wasn’t sure I heard him right. “I’m afraid,” he swallowed, looking down, “I’m afraid when I get back, you’ll ignore me again.” “Get back? Are you leaving?” He nodded. “I have to go back to school. I have a few more weeks of classes before winter break starts.” Weeks. I would have to go a few weeks without seeing Trenton. Now that I’d agreed to this relationship, I hated to think I had to wait weeks before I saw him again. Trent was the only person that made me happy. Having him around brought me out of the dark space I’d been living in for so long. Without him here, I feared I’d retreat back into my dark hole—the hole that had become a suffocating pit. In fact, I could already feel my body drawing in and my mind shutting down. I didn’t want to withdrawal into myself anymore though. I wanted to be the girl Trenton believed I was. “That’s a while,” I mumbled, picking at a loose thread on my sweater. Trenton took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I know,” his voice was deep with sadness, “but I’ll be back. I’m not leaving you, Rowan.” I closed my eyes, absorbing his words. A week ago I’d been avoiding him and now I was struggling to say goodbye. I didn’t want to be this girl though—the one dependent on someone else for happiness. That’s why I knew in the end we’d never work. I was too messed up. I was broken… splintered and fractured beyond repair. I didn’t understand why Trenton couldn’t see that trying to mend me was pointless. Once so much damage has been done, there’s nothing you can do to erase it. “Rowan,” he repeated my name, brushing his fingers over my cheek, “everything will be fine. I’ll call you… and while I’m gone, I’ll be planning something spectacular for our next date, because there will be a second, and a third, and a… well, you get the idea,” he grinned and I couldn’t help but smile in response. “Don’t panic on me now.” “I’m not panicking.” “You’re definitely over-thinking then,” he tapped my forehead. “Thinking will only get you in trouble, so don’t, just feel,” his voice dropped to a deep tone and his face was so close to mine that I could have counted every eyelash if I wanted. His breath fanned over my lips. I knew he was waiting for me to make the first move this time. I was trying to decide if I wanted to or not. I mean, that was dumb, of course I wanted to, but I wasn’t sure if it was really the best idea. Kissing always seemed to prove to be dangerous territory for us. But I did it. I leaned forward that last little bit and rested my lips against his. Neither of us moved at first, then Trenton growled low in his throat, his fingers tangling

in my hair. Both of his hands lowered to my waist and a small shriek escaped me as he pulled me onto his lap. He leaned the seat back and I landed roughly against his solid chest. Through the whole process our lips never broke contact. I grasped the fabric of his shirt tightly in my hands, needing to cling to something that would keep me grounded. His tongue pressed against my lips and my mouth opened in response. Damn, the man could kiss, and I really didn’t want to think about the reason why he was so good. I wasn’t naïve, but I didn’t want to torture myself with images of Trenton with other girls either. His hands ventured under the edge of my sweater, over my stomach, and up to my breasts. I gasped. Brave under the cover of the night sky I let him lift the sweater over my head, so I was left in nothing but my bra. Yep, we so shouldn’t kiss. It always ended up going too far, but right then I didn’t care. My center pressed against him and heat flooded my body. The light stubble adorning his chin and cheeks scratched at my skin, but I didn’t mind. “Trent.” My gasp filled the confines of the car. I clawed at his black thermal shirt, desperate to remove it—to have nothing between us. A week ago I’d been running from him—too scared to admit that I had feelings for him—but I was done being that girl. I was ready to take what I wanted for as long as he’d let me. I knew I wasn’t worthy of him, and that I’d only end up hurt in the end, but some things are worth breaking for—and let’s face it, I was already wrecked, so how much damage could one more fracture cause? He tore the shirt off and tossed it somewhere behind him. My hands splayed across the warm skin of his muscular chest, his heart beating steadily beneath the palm of my hand. My hands ventured lower into the dips and curves of his abdominals—and holy hell did the man have abs to drool over. He certainly hadn’t had those when we were sixteen. His lips descended down my neck and over my shoulder—the little kisses making my body hum pleasantly. He pushed aside one bra strap and his lips continued lower, his hot breath causing my body to arch. “Trenton, please,” I moaned, my fingers in his hair, pulling him close. “Fuck,” he groaned, his hips pressing against me. I felt him and I knew what I needed to relieve the pressure building in my body. My fingers clumsily fumbled with his belt. His hands ceased what they were doing to my body and grabbed ahold of mine. “Stop,” he gasped breathlessly. “Stop,” he repeated, and I wasn’t sure if the word was meant for him or me. “We can’t do this, not here like this. I already told you,” he stared into my eyes so I saw that he wasn’t mad, “we’re not ready for that.” Boldly, I pressed my body down on him so that he knew I was very aware of the hard-on he was sporting. “You seem ready to me.” He released my hands and clutched my hips tightly in his hands. His eyes closed as he shook his head back and forth. “I can’t. Not yet. I’ve waited years to get you back,” he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear that had fallen forward to hide my face from his sight, “I won’t ruin this by rushing things. I’ve proved how patient I can be, and I assure you, I won’t make love to you—because, yes, it will be making love, not fucking or anything like that—until I know that you’re not going to run from me the next day.” How could I possibly argue with that? Looking into his eyes, I knew a part of him—a big part—believed I’d be gone when he got back for his winter break. I’d have to prove him wrong.

I’d gone a whole week without seeing Trenton. I thought I might be relieved to have him gone— instead I felt slightly empty inside and I… I missed him. Man, that was hard to admit, even to myself. I missed the way he always seemed to pop up when I least expected him and how his smile made butterflies flutter in my tummy. I startled when someone’s arm draped over my shoulders as I walked across campus. For a second there I dared to hope it was Trent, but when I looked over a laughing Jude met me. “Did I scare you?” “You know you did,” I shrugged off his shoulder. “That wasn’t nice,” I clutched my books tightly against my chest as I headed across campus toward my last class of the day. “Are you sure I really scared you or were you hoping I was someone else?” He raised a brow as he fell into step beside me. I frowned, looking down at my black ballet flats. “I knew it!” He threw a fist in the air. “You really like him! And here I was beginning to think that no guy would ever strike your fancy. I’m relieved to know that your ovaries do indeed work.” I rolled my eyes, reaching up to adjust the hat on my head that was protecting me from the frigid air. “Trust me, my ovaries work just fine.” Jude jogged ahead of me and grabbed the door, holding it open for me. I stepped inside the warm building. “Thanks… that was rather gentlemanly of you,” I noted, unwinding my scarf from around my neck. “That’s me. Jude the Gentleman,” he grinned easily as we headed into class together. Since we were both studying the same thing, we shared most of our classes. Sitting down beside me, Jude asked, “Are you studying tonight?” I gave him a ‘duh’ look. He chuckled, rubbing his jaw. “At the library?” I nodded. “What’s with all the questions?” He shrugged. “I was wondering if I could join you. My roommate is always playing this heavy metal shit and I can’t think straight. Plus, you’re smart, so you can help me.” I rolled my eyes. “Jude, we both know you’re way smarter than me, so flattery will get you nowhere. But if you’d like to join me, that’s fine.” He smiled widely. “Thanks.” “What are you up to?” I narrowed my eyes on him. “Nothing,” he smiled innocently, crossing his arms behind his head. “Jude,” I warned. He smirked. “I heard some pretty hot girls hangout at the library. I was thinking of branching out.” “Have you banged all the sluts you can handle? Moving onto the good girls now?” I mocked. “I’ve got news for you, smart girls won’t fall for your charms. It looks like you might have to give it up, unless

you want to fuck the same girl twice,” I patted his shoulder in mock sympathy. Jude laughed at my words. “Oh, Row, you don’t know me at all. I can charm any girl I want out of her pants.” “Not me,” I snorted, searching my bag for a pencil and my notes. “Trust me, I could if I wanted to,” he assured me. “I’ve never released my powers on you.” I eyed him doubtfully. “Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? Or should I be proud that you like me enough not to ruin our friendship with sex?” “Proud,” he nodded, fighting a smile, “definitely proud.” I rolled my eyes, focusing on the professor as he strode into the room and began the lesson. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about Jude’s sex life.

I pulled my hair back, securing it with a hair tie, and shoved the book away from me. I’d been reading the same sentence for the last thirty minutes, and that wasn’t like me. I knew what my problem was. I kept waiting to feel the familiar tingles that announced Trent’s presence. But they weren’t coming. He was at school and I had at least two more weeks before I’d see him. Trent had succeeded in invading my every thought—just like he had when we were in high school. After our friendship ended I never stopped thinking about him or wishing for things that I knew would never come true. So, it was easy for me to fall for him—he already stole my heart a long time ago, and I never got it back… I think that was part of the reason I tended to feel so hollow inside. “Are you okay?” Tatum’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Yeah,” I forced a small smile, “I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes. “You are so not fine. I’m your friend, talk to me,” she pleaded. I wished I could, but I didn’t know how to open up. Expressing my feelings didn’t come naturally to me. My mom had made me feel like a worthless piece of shit—always wanting me to be invisible and never to speak. I didn’t even know how to put into words what I was feeling. “It’s nothing,” I shrugged, reluctantly sliding the book towards me so I could resume studying. Tate shook her head, her pretty blonde hair swishing around her shoulders. “Sometimes, I just don’t get you,” she mumbled. I flinched at her tone, knowing I should tell her that I missed Trent, but it wasn’t that easy for me. I felt ridiculous for even missing the guy; to voice those words out loud… it made me feel weak, like I was admitting that I needed him… which I didn’t. I was perfectly fine on my own. I wouldn’t allow myself to be dependent on someone else for my happiness, I’d only end up disappointed in the end. I knew I should say something to Tatum, apologize for my inability to talk to her, but I couldn’t. I went back to my studies and only faltered when a little while later Tate muttered under her breath, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I’d never heard Tatum cuss before, so my eyes widened in surprise. I put the book down to see what had made her suddenly so venomous and found her staring at Jude. “You two know each other?” I questioned. Tatum’s eyes were murderous. “You know him?” She countered. “He’s my friend?” I don’t know why my words came out sounding like a question. “Well, if it isn’t little Tate,” Jude smirked, his eyes lingering on her chest, which was concealed by a thick black sweater, and finally venturing up to make eye contact. “Jude,” she spat out the word like it was something sour in her mouth. “I see you haven’t changed since high school.” He chuckled, shrugging off his backpack, and dropping it onto the table. He pulled out a chair and plopped down across from Tatum. “And I see you still have that same fiery attitude,” he leaned forward. “Don’t think I won’t kick you in the balls again,” she warned. “Once was enough,” he grinned crookedly, eyeing her with mischief in his eyes, “I assure you I’ve healed though, and I’m in perfect working order if you’d like to check it out.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re a pig.” “And you,” he leaned forward, steepling his fingers, “are a tease.” I watched their back and forth banter like one would a tennis match. I was mesmerized and disgusted

all at once. “I don’t think it counts as being a tease if you’re only trying to avoid contracting some nasty disease,” she sneered, gathering up her books. “You never could handle rejection.” “What can I say? I’m not used to it,” he smirked cockily, crossing his arms behind his head as he watched her stand and sling her backpack over her shoulder. “Don’t worry though, I quite enjoy a chase, and this one is only starting,” he winked. “Ugh,” she rolled her eyes before leveling him with a glare, “I would’ve thought four whole years of rejection would have been enough for you. Don’t waste your time with me,” she pointed a finger at him, “because you’re never getting these off,” she dramatically lifted the bottom of her shirt and reached down to hook her thumb through the top of her panties. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, stealthily flashing him her middle finger, then storming away dramatically. Jude wore a funny smile—one I couldn’t quite pinpoint—then he looked over at me. “She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to marry that girl.” I snorted. “Your confidence amazes me.” “It’s the truth,” he shrugged, glancing over his shoulder as her form disappeared around the corner, “that girl… there’s something about her.” I couldn’t help it; I busted out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Care to elaborate?” “Not much to tell,” he opened his book, eyes downcast. “There’s always something to tell,” I pressed, my curiosity getting the best of me. He looked up, flicking his straight dark hair out of his eyes. “Well, you see, when I was a freshman, I kind of ended up sleeping with her brother’s girlfriend. He found out and spouted off to me, but it didn’t go any farther than that. Until little Tate there found out. I didn’t know who she was at that point,” he smiled wistfully, “she sashayed up to me in the halls one day, laying it on thick I might add, and then kicked me in the balls. She started screaming about her brother and I figured out who she was pretty quick. I liked her spunk,” he shrugged. “From that day on, I couldn’t get her out of my head.” I stared at him, mystified. “And yet you sleep around.” “Hey, while I’m waiting for her to wake up and see that we’re gonna make babies one day, I don’t see the point in not having some fun.” Boys. “That makes no sense whatsoever,” I shook my head. “It doesn’t have to,” he shrugged, his brows furrowing as he read. I let the subject drop, trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness. Tatum and Jude knew each other. What were the odds? And Tate had a brother? She’d never mentioned a brother to me. She didn’t tell me a lot, just like I didn’t tell her much. I guessed we both had our secrets. Thirty minutes later, I looked at the time and cursed under my breath. I needed to change and clock in. I explained to Jude where I was running off to and he lifted his head in acknowledgement. I ran to the restroom, pulling my change of clothes out of my backpack. I shucked my jeans and pulled on the black pencil skirt. My sweater went next, replaced with a white button down blouse that I tucked into the skirt. I stuffed my school clothes into the bag and ran for the backroom to clock in. I knew Mary and none of the others would care if I was a little late, especially after the talk I’d had with Mary the previous time I was running behind. Besides, they already knew I was here studying. Mary shook her head at me when I appeared at the desk. “Silly girl,” she muttered, before dolling out tasks. I relaxed into the tranquil monotony of replacing books on shelves. Occasionally someone would ask me for help locating a particular book and I was happy to oblige. It made me sad that the library wasn’t as busy as it once was. With computers and kindles, most people didn’t see the need to come to the library. Hours passed and soon it was time to close. I changed back into my school clothes, replaced my contacts with my glasses, and sat down at an empty table to get more studying done. The professors were going easy on us, with winter break approaching so soon, but I didn’t want to get behind. I needed to stay ahead of my studies. Since the library typically closed early, I had a good hour of study time before I had to head home to

feed the kids and get them ready for bed. The times when I stayed late like this were the only break I seemed to get. Most would probably find the large library on the spooky side if they were here by themselves. I’d turned off most of the lights, expect for the ones in the section I occupied, and there was something eerie about the large black shadows casted by the bookshelves. I was never scared, though. This place… it was the only place that truly felt like home to me. It was welcoming and it was easy to lose myself in the scent of book pages. I finished studying, but lingered for a few more minutes, letting my fingers glide along the spines of the books as I passed them by. The minute I walked out of these doors, it was back to reality, and I wanted to feel this comfort for a little while longer. Silly? Definitely. However, I didn’t care. My drive home was silent. I had no desire to listen to the radio. I knew when I walked in the door, I’d be assaulted by Tristan and Ivy’s endless chatter. I didn’t mind it though. I actually enjoyed talking to the kids. Right now, though, I needed silence—a clear head. My step-dad was back home, and my mom had been an even bigger bitch the last week than she normally was. I wondered if she’d seen me practically mauling Trent with my mouth and greedy hands in his car. If she had, she didn’t say anything. Something was off about her. Well, she was always in a mood, but more so than usual. She was a confusing person. I’d never understood why she drowned her sorrows in alcohol. Now, too much damage had been done for me to ever care to find out. I didn’t understand the lure of the bottle though. I wasn’t the type to give up. I fought. Maybe that was something I inherited from my dad—a man I didn’t even know the name of. My mom never talked about him. Supposedly he’d bailed before I was even born. With the lies she told though, my guess was that wasn’t even true. It sucked pretty bad when you couldn’t believe anything that came out of your mother’s mouth. She was the one person I should’ve been able to go to with anything, but I couldn’t. The one time I did… well, that was a story for another time. I sat in the car, parked in the driveway, my hands clenching the steering wheel. When did my life get so fucked up? Had it happened when I was born? Or had there been a time when I was a normal kid who loved her mom? I didn’t know. I’d never know. For as long as I could remember I’d raised myself. Then Ivy, and finally Tristan. I couldn’t ever remember being a kid, playing with dolls, having sleepovers. All I had ever had was this hell. I pushed my body out of the car, grabbing my stuff, and headed inside. I moved mechanically. The kids greeted me and I bent down to hug and kiss them both, holding them in my arms longer than normal as I soaked in their comfort. “You’re squeezing me too tight, Row,” Tristan squirmed his small body out of my arms. “Sorry,” I told him. “Row?” He tilted his head questioningly. “Are are you going to cry?” I hadn’t even realized my eyes were filling with tears. The tears didn’t spill over and I didn’t even know why they were there in the first place—maybe for everything I had lost and was working so hard for my siblings not to have to experience. I had a suspicion that these tears were because of Trent too. He’d surged back into my life, making me feel again, and my emotions had burst forth like water from a dam. “No, sweetie, I’m not going to cry,” I forced a smile as he gripped my face between his two small hands, looking at me in fascination. “I don’t want you to be sad,” his lips turned down in a frown. “Sometimes you have to be sad,” I told him, my voice shaky. Tristan wrapped his arms around my neck and clung to me tightly. We had a special bond—one I didn’t share with Ivy. I picked him up to carry him to the kitchen when my mom opened her bleary eyes from where she lay on the couch. “Don’t baby him.” “Whatever,” I rolled my eyes as she passed out once more. I was tired and didn’t even feel like boiling pasta noodles, so I settled on peanut butter sandwiches that the three of us dipped in milk—don’t knock it until you try it. “This is yummy,” Tristan grinned, smiling up at me. Ivy nodded in agreement to his words. Watching

the two of them, my throat clenched. They deserved more than peanut butter sandwiches eaten at a card table. I didn’t understand how a parent couldn’t want better for their children. But my mom, she wanted us to suffer like she had, while she escaped into oblivion—the coward’s way out. Ivy helped me clean up from dinner, then I gave Tristan a bath, and read them both a story. I fell asleep in Tristan’s bed, my body wrapped around his, with Ivy beside me.

The wind blew my hair in my face, several long strands getting stuck on the gloss coating my lips. I pulled my hair way, my head lowered. When I looked up, my steps faltered. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This had to be a mirage or something. Trenton stood straight ahead of me, his back leaning against a light pole with a coffee cup and something else in his hand. I was so confused. He was still supposed to be at school, what was he doing here? He looked up then, a smile spreading over his handsome face as he spotted me. He was dressed nicely in a pair of jeans and a long black button down coat. His dark hair was brushed out of his eyes. To me, he looked like he should be on the runway, not chilling on campus. He looked so sophisticated and out of my league. He didn’t jog up the steps. Instead he waited for me to meet him. I walked slowly to him, butterflies assaulting my stomach. “Hi… what are you doing here?” God, even when I wasn’t trying to I still sounded like a bitch. There was something seriously wrong with me. He chuckled, licking his bottom lip. “I brought you coffee,” he held up the paper cup. “I can see that, but why are you here on my campus,” I hissed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” He shrugged his muscular shoulders. “I finished my school work early and decided to head home. There was no point in hanging around there when I could be home.” With you, the words hung there unuttered. “Well,” I reached for the coffee, “thanks for this.” “It’s caramel,” he assured me before I took a sip. “Caramel’s still your favorite right?” He asked hesitantly. “It is,” I nodded. “I can’t believe you remembered that,” I whispered in awe, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It gave me a dose of much needed caffeine and warmth. “I remember everything about you,” he whispered. “Oh, here’s this.” My throat closed up as I looked at the shiny teal wrapper in his hands. I took the Rice Krispie Treat from him. “You really do remember everything,” I gasped. He chuckled. “Yep. You’re middle name is Elise and you hate it because you think it sounds old fashioned. I, on the other hand, love it. Your favorite color is green. Rice Krispie Treats are your favorite sweet,” he nodded at the wrapper in my hand, “you love to read anything and everything, and… shall I continue?” He raised a brow, waiting for my response. I gazed at him in awe. I would’ve thought all these years later, we’d have to get to know each other again, but he hadn’t forgotten anything about me. I certainly hadn’t forgotten him either. “No,” I squeaked as we walked side by side. I had to get to my last class of the day. Trent fell into step beside me, both of us silent. I stopped outside the door to the building that led to my next class. “I have to go, I can’t be late,” I mumbled. Trent nodded. “I know. I’ll… see you later,” he smiled, leaning in to give me a soft kiss that left my whole body humming. “Thanks for this,” I held the coffee and Rice Krispie Treat aloft. He nodded, tipping his head at me as he backed away. “Red!” I called at his retreating back. He turned around, stopping in his tracks with one brow raised. “Your favorite color is red,” I breathed. “I remember things too, Trent.”

Even hours later, I was still shocked by Trent’s surprise visit and the sweet gesture of the coffee and Rice Krispie Treat. I’d greedily slurped down the coffee, finding it to be the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. For some reason, though, I had found myself unable to devour the sugary treat currently residing in my backpack. Like a child, I wanted to hold on to it and treasure it for what it signified. Five years. One thousand eight hundred and twenty-six days. It was a long time. Yet, it was also like no time at all. Neither one of us had ever been able to forget the other. I remembered things about Trenton that I wished I could forget. It would make ignoring him so much easier. But we had a past, a past that refused to let either of us go. We were tethered together and our bond was indestructible. My years of ignoring him had proven just how everlasting it was, because here he was—here, we were—back to pretty much where we’d always been. A connection like ours—I refused to think of it as love, love was simply a fairytale—it wasn’t easily broken. It stretched, it frayed, but it did not break. I looked at the time on my phone, cursing under my breath. I had to get home, the kids were probably starving, and my “study time” had been pretty much non-existent. I packed up my stuff and locked up the library on my way out. I couldn’t get home fast enough. I felt horrible that I’d completely forgotten the time. I might have to stop staying late at the library—but that meant I’d never get any school work done. Technically, though, I shouldn’t have had to worry about rushing home. They were my mom’s responsibility, but the woman couldn’t do anything. When I walked in the front door and into the house I found the kids in their bedroom playing. “Hey,” I stopped in the doorway, a little breathless. “Are you guys hungry?” They shook their heads. “Ivy made me a sammy,” Tristan smiled up at me, from where he played on the floor with little toy cars. I frowned. “Oh. Okay.” I knew at Ivy’s age she was perfectly capable of making a sandwich, but I didn’t want her to have to do that. I wanted her to be a child, to know that I’d always be there to make everything better. I didn’t want her to have to be… me. I smiled in Ivy’s direction, and she frowned, feeling like she’d done something wrong. “That was very nice of you, Ivy,” I hastened to add. “If you two are okay without me for a bit, I’m going to shower.” Ivy nodded. “We’ll be okay.”

She didn’t know it, but those three words hurt. It made me feel like they’d be just fine without me. Maybe I was being selfish by thinking they needed me. I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt from my bedroom, locking myself in the bathroom. I leaned against the door, wondering why a stupid sandwich had made me upset. It wasn’t the sandwich, but what it represented—that life went on without me around. I sunk to the floor, resting my head on my knees. One thought lingered in my mind. Nobody needs me.

I wasn’t surprised to see Trenton waiting beside my car when I left school. I had come to expect him to pop up wherever—and why would he stop now? “Hi,” I said hesitantly. After my breakdown last night, my emotions were raw and I wasn’t ready to see him. I knew Trent would pick up on something being wrong and another day to quiet my mind would have been welcome. “Coffee, Rice Krispie Treat,” he held each out for me to take. Despite my efforts, I smiled, taking the items from him. “Is this going to become a daily occurrence?” I questioned. He grinned, flipping his nearly black hair out of his eyes. “Sure. It gives me an excuse to see you until I go back to school. Let’s not talk about that, though,” he seemed to sense my discomfort at the mention of him being away at school. “Are you okay?” I nodded. “Fine.” I brought the coffee cup to my lips and tried not to drop the Rice Krispie Treat. I was determined to actually eat this one. Since it wasn’t a very cold day I hopped up on the trunk of my car and tapped the empty space next to me. Trent quickly took the spot beside me, the car bouncing from the momentum. A small laugh escaped me. He kicked his legs out, and for once seemed unsure what to say. “Today was your last day of classes?” He asked as I set the coffee cup between us and ripped the wrapper off the treat. I nodded, taking a bite—and oh my God it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. I hadn’t had one of these in forever. I was beginning to regret not eating the one from yesterday. “I never have asked you what you’re studying,” he probed me for answers. “Nursing,” I answered around a mouthful of food, using my hand to hide my mouth. His eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t expect that.” “Why not?” I asked, finishing the last of the Rice Krispie Treat and licking my fingers clean. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “It just doesn’t seem very… you.” His statement didn’t offend me. When I’d known him I’d been convinced I was destined for bigger and better things. I’d been interested in acting… oh, how dreams change when life gets in the way. “And what seems like me?” I countered, picking up the coffee cup once more and holding it between my hands. He peered at my thoughtfully. “Teacher… yeah, I could see you as a teacher. You’re good with kids. I remember watching you with your sister once, Ivy, right?” When I nodded, he continued. “I thought I’d never seen anyone handle a little kid so well before. You’ll make a great mom one day, Row,” he looked at me wistfully. I glanced away and out to the parking lot. I didn’t want to talk about this. I brought the lid of the coffee cup to my lips and let the warm liquid heat my suddenly bone-chilled body. “Did I say something wrong?” I turned to look at him and shook my head. “You don’t seem okay,” he whispered. “Are you…?” He left the question hanging. “Having regrets? No,” I rubbed at my tired eyes, “it was just a rough night.” After my mini meltdown —minus actual tears—I’d showered and climbed into bed with Tristan. I’d needed to surround myself with the comfort of the kids. If I’d shut myself up in my room, I think I would’ve went crazy. “Well,” he started, and I swore a slight pink color stained his cheeks, “allow me to make tonight not

so rough.” I raised a brow. “Come over for dinner… please,” he tacked on, like he thought the ‘please’ would make me give in. “You know I can’t,” I frowned. “Ivy and—” “It can be an early dinner then, and I’ll make plenty, so you’ll have leftovers to take home to them. Or you can bring them with you. I wouldn’t mind. It would limit my time kissing you,” he winked, “but I’m willing to make the sacrifice.” “I’ll need to go home and change, but I can be there in two hours.” That would give me plenty of time to shower, change, and give myself a much needed pep talk, because I was going to be at Trenton’s place… just the two of us… oh, God. Trent’s grin was so wide that crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. He hopped off my car and started to back away. “I guess I better figure out what I’m making.” “I would’ve thought you’d already have a plan,” I retorted. He shrugged. “I figured you’d say no.” With that, he turned on his heel and jogged down the lot to where his black car was parked. I continued to sit on the trunk of my car, drinking the delicious caramel coffee, and wondering what the heck I’d gotten myself into.

My hair was clean and dry, hanging in a straight sheet down my back. I wore a pair of jeans, a loose black sweater that hung slightly off my shoulder, and an old pair of boots that had certainly seen better days, but were so comfortable I refused to get rid of them. The kids Christmas break didn’t start for another week, so there was still a good hour before they’d be home, and they were used to being here alone anyway. Not that they were technically alone, since my mom was here, but still. I brushed my teeth for the fourth time since I’d been home and forced my fingers through my hair. My heart was racing in my chest, at the possibility of what might be about to go down between Trent and I. I sort of felt like a cocky dude, assuming sex was on the menu, but after the kiss in the car… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want more. That didn’t mean I wasn’t scared though. I hadn’t had sex, except that one time so long ago. I was sure Trent had had plenty of practice and knew exactly what he was doing. I, on the other hand, was pretty clueless. One time hardly made me a master. Sure, there were times over the years when guys had expressed interest in me, but I couldn’t even make myself kiss them, let alone have sex. In the back of my mind, there was always… well, there was always Trent. “Stop it, Rowan,” I glared at my reflection in the mirror. “Stop this right now. It’s only dinner. That’s all.” Oh, God. Now I was talking to myself in the mirror. I was destined for the loony bin. Shit. I forced myself out of the bathroom, shrugged on my coat, and grabbed my purse. I was almost out the door when I looked back and saw my mom passed out on the couch—sans trashcan. I rolled my eyes, and strode back inside, grabbing the waste bin and sitting it beside her. I didn’t want to come home and have to clean up her vomit. I guessed the sound of the trashcan being sat down woke her, because her groggy hazel eyes opened to meet mine. “What the fuck are you doing leaning over me like that?” I pointed to the trashcan. I didn’t owe her an explanation. I didn’t owe her anything. “You’re a worthless piece of shit! You know that!” She called after me. I turned around, flipping her off. “Only because I’m your spawn,” I spat. “So, you would know.” “You little bitch,” she snarled, her greasy hair hanging limply in her eyes as she struggled to get off the couch and come at me. I slammed the door closed and ran for my car, speeding away before she could make it outside. A part of me hoped she’d come outside and be so drunk she’d forget how to get back inside, then maybe she’d freeze to death. Fuck. I was a horrible person. What kind of sane person wishes their mother would die? The sick kind, that’s who. I was so going to hell. Trent had texted me directions to his place, since he no longer lived at his family’s mansion. As big as

that place was I was surprised he hadn’t stayed. Surely he had plenty of privacy there. I drove through town and turned into a nice neighborhood lined with brick three-story townhomes. My mouth gaped open. What kind of twenty-one year old guy needed a place like this? I pulled along the road and checked my phone to make sure I’d remembered the right house number. When I was sure I had it correct, I drove forward and pulled into the driveway. I sat for a moment, a bit scared to get out and knock on the door. “You have nothing to be scared of, Rowan,” I mumbled to myself. Great, not only did I talk to myself in the mirror, but now I did it in the car too. I stepped out and locked my car—although, in this nice neighborhood, I doubted anyone would want to break into this jalopy. I bound up the steps to the front door with a pep I didn’t really feel. I reached out and hesitantly knocked on the door. No sounds greeted me, and when more than thirty-seconds had passed without Trent appearing, I pushed the doorbell. I heard Trent talking, but no one answered, so I was a bit confused about what was going on. “Stay away from there, Dean!” He yelled as the door swung open. “Hi,” I said, but he wasn’t looking at me, but over his shoulder. That’s when I saw the baby. Holy shit. Trent had a kid. A fucking baby. My throat closed up. He had a kid with some girl that was probably a whole lot prettier and nicer than I was. I wondered why he wasn’t with her and why he was wasting time with me. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but I turned around and ran towards my car. Trent called after me, but I didn’t stop. I went to unlock my car, but I couldn’t find my keys. Where the hell were my keys? I patted my pockets, looked in my purse, and they weren’t there. So much for my quick escape. The door to his townhouse was opening again and I turned to see him running down the steps with the drooling little monster in his arms. Normally, I went gaga over a baby, but seeing Trent’s offspring from some whore was making me so angry I couldn’t see straight. “Stay away from me!” I seethed, ready to punch him in the nose if he took one step closer. “Row, I don’t know why you’re freaking out. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Dean. I forgot I was supposed to watch him.” The baby—which was really more a toddler—blew spit bubbles at me and waved. I hated to admit it, but he was pretty cute. “You should’ve told me you had a kid!” I exclaimed, pointing at the child in his arms. “I deserved to know!” Trent’s brows furrowed in puzzlement. “You think Dean is my kid?” I gave him a ‘duh’ look, and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not dumb, Trenton.” “No, not dumb,” he laughed, “but jumping to conclusions can get you in trouble. Dean isn’t my kid.” “He’s not?” I hated the fact that those words made me breathe easier. “No,” Trent chuckled. “He’s my nephew.” “Nephew…?” Oh. I’m a colossal idiot and just made a fool of myself. “Yeah, this is Dean,” he pointed to the baby, outfitted in a red plaid jumper, “Trace’s son.” I blushed profusely, embarrassed by my overreaction. “Oh… I’m sorry… I thought…” “I know what you thought,” he laughed, clearly amused by my humiliation. “Anyway, when I invited you to dinner, I’d forgotten I told Trace I’d babysit so he and Olivia could have a night out. I hope you don’t mind…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head. Dean started making a buzzing noise with his lips. “No, I don’t mind. Can I… Can I hold him?” I reached my arms out. My demeanor had completely changed once I knew the child wasn’t his. Trent quickly deposited the baby in my arms. “Maybe I can cook now. This little gremlin,” he smacked Dean’s butt, “keeps trying to break Bartholomew out of his cage.” I laughed. “The ferret?” “Yep,” Trent nodded, heading back inside, assuming I’d follow—which of course I did.

The townhouse was really pretty, with shiny wood floors and light blue walls. It was airy and welcoming. There was a formal living room to my right, but it was empty. I followed Trent towards the back of the house, past a set of stairs, to where it opened up to a kitchen, dining room, and family room. The furniture was dark and manly, but everything was surprisingly neat and clean. There was nothing lingering out in the open that shouldn’t be there. I didn’t know why I expected a mess. “So… where’s Bartholomew?” I asked. At this point, a part of me still believed he’d made up the pet ferret thing. He pointed to a cage in the corner, which was obscured by the large entertainment center. “I keep him in there when I’m down here, and he has a cage in my room.” “He gets lonely?” I laughed. “I get lonely,” he said with a straight face. “You wouldn’t believe what a good snuggling partner a ferret is.” “You’re a strange guy,” I continued to laugh as Dean squirmed in my arms. I finally was forced to put him down before I dropped him. He immediately toddled over to Bartholomew’s cage and tried to undo the latch. Trent hadn’t been lying, the kid really wanted the ferret out. “Now that you’re here,” Trent said as he looked through the refrigerator, “you can get Bartholomew out if you want and let Dean pet him.” “Uh…” I didn’t know why, but I felt a bit frightened of the furry brown and white creature peering lazily at me from a hammock in its cage. “Oh, come on, Rowan,” Trent goaded me, as he closed the refrigerator door, setting items on the granite counter, “don’t tell me you’re afraid of him. He won’t bite… if you’re nice.” I took a deep breath and stepped forward. I moved Dean behind me and opened the cage. The furry creature hopped out of the hammock and hurried to the open door. I grabbed him before he could jump out. He was surprisingly light and his fur was soft. I looked down at his face, and he was actually pretty cute. “Come on, Dean,” I called to the toddler as I took a seat on the couch. I held Bartholomew in one hand and reached down to help Dean up with the other. “Mew Mew,” Dean smiled up at me, displaying small white teeth as he pointed at the squirming creature in my hands. “He can’t say Bartholomew,” Trent called, “just go with it.” I rolled my eyes and didn’t reply. Did he really think I couldn’t figure out what the kid meant by Mew Mew? “Soft.” Dean petted Bartholomew with a surprising gentleness. “Kiss.” He lowered his head and kissed the furry critter on top of his small head. Bartholomew seemed used to the attention and didn’t move. He’d stilled in my arms and I thought he might have fallen asleep. When I woke up this morning this was so not how I’d seen my day going. I mean, who expects to cuddle with a ferret? I still felt a bit bad about jumping to the conclusion Dean was Trent’s son without asking questions. They looked so much alike though. Dean had thick dark hair and his smile had Wentworth written all over it. I guessed Trace and Trent had some strong genes. There wasn’t anything about Dean that didn’t look like a Wentworth… except maybe his slightly upturned nose. He was a cute kid with expressive green eyes… he did seem to drool a lot though. Dean crawled onto my lap and continued to pet Bartholomew with his chubby little hand. “Mew Mew,” he whispered again. Looking up at me, he asked, “Who you?” Dean seemed to realize for the first time that I was a stranger. He was still burrowed against my chest though, and seemed to have no plans to leave. Unlike most kids, he obviously wasn’t afraid to get cozy with a stranger. “My name is Row,” I answered him. “Row?” He repeated, looking up at me with big green eyes. “That’s right,” I smiled, lightly tickling his stomach and making him giggle. I looked up and my gaze connected with Trent’s. He was looking at me wistfully, and my heart raced in my chest knowing what he was seeing and probably imagining. I quickly looked away. “Me, Dean,” Dean pointed at his chest. “You, Row,” he poked my breast. Definitely a Wentworth. “Dat, Mew Mew, and he Rent!” He twisted to point enthusiastically at Trent. Trent chuckled, shaking his head as he covered some kind of fish in a seasoning. “Good job, Dean. Thanks for making the introductions.” “Welcome,” Dean beamed, turning back to me. The little boy quieted, and went back to petting Bartholomew. I stretched my legs out on the ottoman,

adjusting my hold on both the ferret and the toddler, since my arms felt like they were seconds away from falling asleep. When I knew Trent was occupied with what he was doing, I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was reading something off his phone. A recipe maybe? He kept flicking his head to keep his dark hair out of his eyes. His thumb scrolled the screen on his phone and his tongue stuck slightly out of his mouth as he concentrated. He muttered under his breath and began opening cabinets as he looked for something. He finally located it and added it to a bowl. As he worked he hummed under his breath. I didn’t recognize the song—and wasn’t even sure it really was a song, or just something he was making up as he went along. He turned on two of the gas stove eyes and set something across it… it looked like he’d be grilling the fish… at least I thought it was fish. Feeling like a creeper for spying on him as he cooked, I glanced back down at the warm bundles in my arms. Both the ferret and the toddler were sound asleep. It didn’t look like I’d be moving anytime soon. For once, I was okay with that. I didn’t feel the need to run. I was actually enjoying myself, and I wasn’t even really hanging out with Trent. But I was here, in his house, and I didn’t have an urge to leave. I was… comfortable. “You okay?” Trent asked as something sizzled on the stove. “Mhmm,” I hummed, “I’m great.” Trent turned to look at me over his shoulder, and at his grin, I couldn’t help but smile in response. “Good,” he said, his eyes devouring me the way one would their favorite piece of chocolate. Goosebumps broke out across my skin as he stared at me. That look… it turned my insides to mush. It felt good to be desired. With a wink Trent turned back to what he was doing. I wondered if he was aware of the delicious feelings coursing through my body from a single glance. The boy was good, and he didn’t even have to try. It was quite a talent he had. I must have dozed off as well, because some time later I was awakened by Trent gently shaking my shoulder. Bartholomew was gone, and I started to panic, but I immediately glimpsed him snoozing in his hammock. Dean was still curled in my arms, his body providing warmth to mine. His tiny lips were pursed in sleep. “Dinner’s ready,” Trent told me. I nodded, stifling a yawn. Trenton picked Dean up off my lap and the little boy came awake with a start. “Rent?” He asked quizzically, looking at Trent with sleepy eyes. “It’s Uncle Trent,” he assured the toddler, carrying him over to a highchair by the dining table. “You have a highchair for him?” I tilted my head, taking in the sight of Trent tending to Dean. “Well, I didn’t buy it,” he chuckled. “I watch Dean as much as I can when I’m home. Trace works a lot and Olivia’s home with this goober all the time,” he affectionately kissed Dean’s cheek, making a loud smacking sound with his lips. “Sometimes they need a break, and I’m happy to help. I like kids,” he shrugged. “I even have a pack n’ play for when we have sleepovers,” he winked, ruffling the toddler’s hair, and sauntering into the kitchen. I sat down at the table in front of a steaming plate of deliciousness. My stomach rumbled as I inhaled the scents of rosemary and garlic. It was official, the man could do anything, he was perfect. “Do you drink wine?” He asked, looking at me over his shoulder. “I’m legal if that’s what you’re asking, but no, I’ve never drank any…” After what I saw at home, how could I want to? I didn’t want to become my mother. “This is really good with our dinner,” he held a bottle aloft. “Would you like to try some?” I frowned, prepared to tell him no, but he was already pouring a glass. I didn’t see how one glass could turn me into a raging alcoholic. Besides, if I hated it, I didn’t have to drink it. Trent set our glasses down and went back to the kitchen, returning with a plate of food for Dean. He took the seat beside the highchair and fed Dean a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “If I let him feed himself, he throws his food at me,” Trent explained. “I’m really sorry about this,” he tilted his head to Dean, who was making a humming sound as he ate a gob of mashed potatoes. “This wasn’t at all what I had planned for tonight.” “And what did you have planned?” I ventured to take a bite of the grilled salmon—and holy shit, it was the best thing I had ever tasted. “Dinner,” he nodded to our plates, “talking… kissing…”

“Always with the kissing,” I laughed—the sound surprising me. I was laughing, and if I recalled correctly, there had been other times when Trent had made me laugh… a real genuine laugh, not one I had to force. The man had superpowers. “I like kissing you,” he winked, feeding Dean a piece of roasted chicken. “Did you have anything else planned?” I questioned as I took a hesitant sip of wine. It was actually pretty good and went well with the fish. “Nope.” Mischief danced in his eyes when he looked at me. “Really?” I raised a brow. He nodded, finally taking a bite of his own food. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks in an unflattering shade of red, because I had been imagining more. Much more. What was wrong with me? I should’ve known Trent wouldn’t expect that yet, he wasn’t that kind of guy. A part of me was disappointed though. I felt like maybe he was doing this on purpose—dragging it out until he knew I was so desperate with want that I’d jump his bones. No, it wouldn’t be like Trent to think that way. More than likely, he wanted me to be sure that I did actually want this. Right now, though, I didn’t want him to be a gentleman. There wasn’t anything I could do though. Dean was here, and I couldn’t exactly pull Trent away to have my wicked way with him. It was okay though. Clearly, now wasn’t the right time for our relationship to move in that direction. After five years though, I felt like I was about to explode. It would be worth the wait. Trent was worth the wait… I just hoped that finally admitting that I did have feelings for him wouldn’t blow up in my face. Who was I kidding? It would. Once all my lies and deceptions were out in the open, he’d hate me. I had to tell him what I’d done. I should open my mouth up and let it all out. But I couldn’t, and I was selfish anyway, wanting to spend more time with him before I didn’t have him at all. “How’s your mom?” I asked him. I’d only met Lily a handful of times, but she was a lovely woman and had raised her sons well… especially after their dad died. She was the kind of woman I could admire. She was beautiful, but strong and independent. She didn’t take shit from anyone. “Your grandparents?” “Mom’s good,” he shrugged. “She’s busy a lot now, running the business and all, but we have family dinner’s once a week. I always come home for them.” His eyes grew sad, and he added, “Gramps died a few years ago… cancer. It’s been hard losing him. He became like a dad to Trace and me, after ours died. Gramps’ death has been harder on Trace than me, but I miss him every day.” My heart broke seeing the pain in his eyes. Even two years later it was obvious he still missed his grandpa and that the wound would probably never quite heal all the way. I’d only met Warren once, but he was a nice man, and went out of his way to make me feel comfortable. “I’m so sorry, Trenton,” I whispered. He shrugged, his lips turned down in a frown. “It was his time.” “That might be true, but it doesn’t make his loss any easier.” Trent nodded, cooing to Dean. I knew he didn’t really want to talk about his grandpa, and that was fine. I knew what it was like not to want to talk about things. I wouldn’t push him. We moved the conversation to more comfortable topics, like school and friends. I laughed and smiled easily, something I seemed to only do around Trenton. He had some kind of magical spell over me that melted my icy exterior. He refused to let me help clean up from dinner, instead putting me in charge of Dean once more. The little boy had renewed energy after dinner and I had to chase him down. He was a quick little thing. “Do you need to go yet?” He asked, putting food into plastic containers. I shook my head. “I still have time.” “Want to put a movie on?” He asked, stacking the containers one on top of the other. “That’s fine with me,” I grabbed Dean up in my arms before he could crawl up the steps, “I probably won’t be able to stay for the whole thing though.” “Any extra time I get with you, I’ll take,” he smiled. Pointing to the containers, he said, “These are for your brother and sister. I figured they wouldn’t like fish, so I gave them the chicken I got for Dean.” Tears pricked my eyes. I hadn’t believed him when he said he’d have food for Ivy and Tristan. But he did. He was remarkable.

I turned away from him so he wouldn’t see the moisture building in my eyes and pretended to be playing with Dean. “You can pick out the movie.” I jumped when his hand pressed against my waist. “O-okay,” I stuttered. He took Dean from my arms and led me to the entertainment center. He brought up something on the TV and said, “Scroll through until you find one you want.” I gaped. I had never seen such a fancy TV. It was like a spaceship. I was a quick learner though; so it didn’t take me long to figure out how to work the fancy remote. “Thor?” He chuckled, when I had made my selection. “I always did have a thing for muscular superheroes,” I winked. Oh my God. Was I flirting? I was totally flirting. Trent chuckled. “I remember all those superhero shirts you used to wear. Do you still have them?” “I sleep in them.” He made a noise in the back of his throat, causing heat to rise to the surface of my cheeks. “I like those shirts. A lot.” “Me too,” I squeaked. Jesus Christ, the man was making me hot and bothered just by talking about my old ratty superhero tshirts. The movie started and Trent turned off the lights. “You want some popcorn?” He asked before he sat down. “No thanks.” He picked up Dean and plopped down beside me, depositing the little boy in his lap. The couch dipped with his added weight and I slid towards him, stopping when my left side was firmly pressed against his right side. I so didn’t want to watch a movie right now. I forced myself to focus on the screen, and not on the way his warmth felt beside me, or how I really wanted to tilt my head up and kiss his jaw, then his lips, then… You knew you had it bad, when even the sight of Chris Hemsworth couldn’t distract you. I found my eyes growing heavy, and my head fell to Trent’s shoulder. I wasn’t falling asleep. I wasn’t. Okay, I totally was. But he felt so good, and he kept humming, the sound calming me. Eventually I couldn’t resist it any longer, and fell asleep with my head rested on his shoulder, and a small smile on my lips.

I was being jostled awake, rather rudely I might add. I blinked my eyes open to find Trent’s brother hovering above us. “Trace, stop it, that’s not nice,” a female voice piped in. “Dude, wake up,” he smacked Trent’s cheek. Trent woke with a start. “What the—” “Tsk, tsk,” Trace waggled a finger in front of Trent’s face, holding Dean, “sleeping on the job, baby brother, that’s not allowed.” “Sorry,” Trent stood, reaching his arms above his head to stretch. His shirt rode up exposing his smooth and toned stomach. I itched to reach out and have that skin beneath my hands. Trace cuddled Dean in his arms, the child completely undisturbed, his eyes still closed and his small thumb stuck in his mouth. A woman, who didn’t appear to be much older than me, peered around Trace. “Hi, I’m Olivia,” she reached her hand out to shake mine. Her voice was light and pleasant, and there was something so sweet about her… she was the kind of person you couldn’t help but instantly like. She was also beyond gorgeous with long dark brown wavy hair, pouty lips, and an adorably upturned nose. It was obvious this was Trace’s wife, and Dean’s mother. “Rowan,” I replied, taking her hand and shaking it. “Oooh,” she drew out the word, her eyes flicking to Trace. “I’ve heard about you.” “Why am I not surprised?” Trent grumbled under his breath. I blushed at Olivia’s words. They’d talked about me? That was embarrassing.

Olivia peered around Trace, who seemed to stand in front of her like a bodyguard, to see Trent. “We’ll get out of your way.” “You didn’t have sex in front of my kid did you? That would be traumatizing for him,” Trace asked Trent. I knew he was teasing, but I couldn’t help the blush that only kept getting redder. “Fuck, no.” “Oh, so you only cuss in front of him? Good to know. Uncle of the Year award right here,” Trace pointed at his brother. “Get out of my house,” Trent grumbled, reaching down to grab the remote and turn the TV off. “Who pays the bills? Oh, I do, that makes it my house,” Trace retorted. Olivia rolled her eyes and looked at me. “They argue all the time. I think they find it fun.” I didn’t really know what to say to her. She was a stranger, and I wasn’t the type to make friends easily. “Come on, Trace,” she put her hand on his muscular arm and lightly tugged. “Let’s go home. I’m tired.” “You better not be too tired,” he grinned, letting her lead him towards the front door, “I’m not done with you yet.” “Trace!” She scolded, looking back at Trent and I with an embarrassed smile. “See you guys another time,” she waved, pushing Trace out the door. As soon as the door was closed and the headlights of their car fanned across the front window, Trent whistled, giving me a funny smile. With his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, he said, “That was awkward.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “You could say that again.” “That was awkward,” he grinned impishly. Noting the time, I frowned. “I have to go.” “I know,” he headed for the kitchen, grabbing up the plastic containers. “I’ll walk you out.” He didn’t bother putting on a coat, and as soon as the cool air greeted us Goosebumps broke out on his skin. He jumped up and down trying to keep his body moving. I unlocked my car and he handed me the food. I leaned inside to set it on the passenger seat. When I straightened, I could’ve sworn his eyes had been glued to my ass. I raised a brow at him and he smirked, not at all ashamed at having been caught. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, leaning in to press his lips to mine. He ended the kiss quickly, before things could progress to a dangerous level, but I was no less affected. I got in my car and watched him jog back into his house. With a shake of my head, I forced myself to back out of the driveway and return to reality.

I woke up early, determined to make the kids a hearty breakfast and spend some time with them. I scrambled eggs and made some of that microwave bacon. I popped three slices of toast into the toaster and gathered the plates. After I’d placed everything on the table I looked up to find Tristan standing there rubbing his eyes. “Good morning,” I told him cheerily. “That smells good,” he pointed to a plate. “I hope it tastes just as good,” I bent, kissing the top of his head. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close. Tristan and Ivy were the only people I’d ever truly loved. Something told me though, that if I let myself, I could love Trent too. I didn’t know if I’d ever be ready for that though. I released Tristan and he climbed onto the chair. Ivy came out of the bedroom next, sniffing the air. “Mmm,” she hummed. Based on their reactions, I was glad I had taken the time to make them a decent breakfast. Most mornings, I either didn’t have the time, or we didn’t have the ingredients. I sat down with them, taking the time to talk to them. Tristan was excited about learning the Alphabet, and Ivy kept mentioning a boy’s name. I was going to have my hands full with that one. I loved these moments I had with them where we were like a family. I really hoped I didn’t have to wait much longer before I could take custody of them away from my mom. As if conjured by my thoughts, she appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Her hair stuck up wildly around her head and there were bags under her eyes. “Give me that!” My mouth dropped open when she snatched Tristan’s half-eaten plate from him. What kind of mother takes food from her child? Tristan’s bottom lip began to tremble with the threat of tears. I stood slowly, glaring at my mom. “Give. That. Back.” “What?” She gasped, not because she hadn’t heard me, but because she couldn’t believe I had spoken. “You heard me.” A piece of egg clung to her bottom lip. Everything about the woman was disgusting—even me, because I was a part of her. Her taint clung to me, and it was something I would never be able to shake. She set the plate down on the counter, not in front of Tristan. “This is my house,” she seethed, the stench of her breath threatening to knock me down, “and the food in it belongs to me. I’ll eat whatever the hell I want.” “I bought that food and I made it,” I pointed to my chest. “You have no right—” My head snapped to the side with the impact of her hand landing against my cheek. My teeth had bitten down on the sensitive inside of my mouth and I tasted blood.

Tristan began to cry, and when I looked at Ivy her mouth hung open in shock. “You ungrateful brat!” She screamed at me, hatred filling her eyes. I wasn’t going to let her think that a slap would silence me anymore. I was done being passive. My mouth filled with blood and I wondered if it was possible to need stitches in your mouth. I really hoped not. “You’ve taken everything from me!” I couldn’t seem to stop shouting. “I’m not your little bitch anymore! I’m not going to sit back and let you rule me! I’m done!” She seemed shocked at my comeback. I always took her shit and never fought back, but she had done one too many things to me in the past, and I had finally snapped. She didn’t seem to have a comeback, so she grabbed the plate of food, glaring at me, and marched back into her bedroom. She slammed the door closed hard enough to rattle the whole house. “Tristan,” I whispered, bending down to take his small face in my hands. His cheeks were wet with tears and I hated that I’d been part of the cause for them. “It’s okay, Tristan.” “You-you-you,” he hiccupped, “bleedin’.” I reached up to my mouth and my fingers came away with a slight red mark. It wasn’t bad, but to Tristan it seemed like the end of the world. “I’m fine,” I assured him. He shook his head, his sandy hair falling into his eyes. “Not okay. You’re bleedin’.” I took him into my arms, rocking him back and forth as he cried. No kid should have to witness what went down between my mom and I. Tristan was probably wondering when she was going to hit him and when I’d yell at him. I had to get them out of here. I just had to. When Tristan’s cries had stopped, I slid my plate towards him. “Here, eat mine.” He was hesitant at first, but eventually hunger won out and he started eating what was left of my food. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off my cheek stung and the inside of my mouth was throbbing. I needed some Advil. I went to the sink and filled a cup with water. I used it to swish out the lingering blood coating my mouth. The day had barely begun, and I already wished it were over.

Let’s go to Griffin’s. I’ll pick you up in an hour. The text was from Trent. A part of me felt like responding to him and telling him that I couldn’t. My cheek and mouth were still sore, and I had a headache that didn’t seem to want to leave—one that not even my prescription medicine could relieve. After I took the kids to school, I’d come back home and shut up in my bedroom with the curtains drawn. I wanted to block out the world. Leave it to Trent to make that impossible. K. I typed back. A moment later he sent a smiley face. I hadn’t done anything after the showdown with my mom, so I knew I looked horrible. I took the quickest shower of my life, towel-dried my hair, and applied more make-up than I normally would to hide the red mark on my cheek. He said he’d pick me up in thirty minutes, so I tugged on a pair of worn jeans and gray sweater. It had dropped into the teens, so I grabbed my warmest coat, black mittens, and my infinity scarf with the words BAM! and POW! on it with drawings of superheroes. I knew Trent would like it. The door to my mom’s room was closed. I didn’t bother telling her where I was going or checking on her. I didn’t care. I’d stopped caring a long time ago. When I reached the front of the house and looked out the windows Trent’s black car was parked by the mailbox. I hurried outside to him, excitement filling my belly. A short amount of time surrounded by Trent was turning me into a completely different person. I opened the car door and slid onto the warm leather seat. When I looked over at him and saw him watching me, my heart skipped a beat, just like they always talked about in romance books. The sound of my breathing filled the car and I couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed by it. Our eyes connected and neither of us moved. The silence swirled around us and I found myself desperate to shatter it. “Why are we going to Griffin’s?” Jesus, Rowan, of all the things you could ask him, that’s what comes out of your mouth? Brilliant.

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. “I’m not telling. You’ll see soon enough.” He turned the radio up and Goodbye by Glenn Morrison sounded through the speakers. We didn’t really talk along the way. We didn’t need to. That was something else I liked about being with Trent. There was no awkward silence, only comfort. He parked across the street from Griffin’s and hopped out to put change in the parking meter. He opened my door for me and held out a hand for me to take. I stared at it with unease. “It’s just a hand, Row,” he said, “you can let go as soon as you get out if you want. There’s no obligation for you to hold my hand.” I placed my hand in his and he closed his fingers over mine. He helped me onto the curb, and went to release my hand, but I tightened my hold. He glanced down at me in surprise. I smiled up at him and he grinned in response, a dimple popping out in his cheek. I liked that dimple. A lot. I itched to stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to the indent, but I didn’t. I wasn’t brave enough yet. I’d take it one step at a time, starting with handholding. Traffic zoomed by and we waited for the crosswalk to flash our turn. I itched to pull my hand away from his, but I forced myself to keep it where it was. There was nothing wrong with this. When it was our turn we jogged across the street, our breath fogging the cold air. The sky was gray with the promise of snow. Trent held the door to Griffin’s open for me and I stepped inside. It was packed and I was taken aback by all the people. “Come on,” Trent took my hand again, reaching up to adjust his maroon colored beanie with the other, “back here.” He pushed through the crowd and I didn’t know how he got his body to fit through such small spaces. In the back area of Griffin’s there was a stage where musicians could perform. Someone was up there now. A hand shot up, waving us towards a table. I was trapped behind Trenton and couldn’t see who it was. It turned out to be Trace and Olivia. Trace was grinning from ear to ear, and Olivia bounced Dean on her lap. “I’m so happy you guys could make it,” she smiled, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. There was a nervousness to her demeanor as she bit down on her bottom lip and glanced nervously at Trace. “Are you okay?” I asked her, pulling off my black mittens and shrugging out of my coat. She nodded. “I always get nervous before I sing.” She began chewing on the side of her fingernail. Trace grabbed her hand, pulling it away from her mouth, and twining his fingers with hers. He looked at her with so much love that even I couldn’t help but be affected… especially when I’d seen Trent look at me in a similar way. “You’re singing?” I asked her, a bit surprised. “We’re singing together,” Trace clarified as Olivia tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, then proceeded to cover the top of Dean’s head with kisses. She looked like she was going to be ill, poor girl. “Do you sing?” I turned to Trent, who’d taken the seat beside me. “No,” he replied quickly. “I’ll leave the singing to those two.” “Are you bad?” I asked. His brows furrowed together. “I don’t know. I’ve never actually tried to sing.” “Maybe you should try,” I pointed to the stage. “Um, yeah, no. If I ever sing, the first time will not be on a stage in front of a bunch of people,” he shook his head rapidly. “No way.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “Would you guys mind watching Dean while we sing?” Olivia asked, holding tightly to the toddler. “Isn’t that why you asked me to come?” Trent retorted. “Well, yeah,” Olivia shrugged. “We have to use you while you’re home. Dean doesn’t like to be left with anyone else, but you. Not even your mom or my mom.” “That’s because Dean has good taste in people,” Trent joked. Griffin appeared by our table, asking if we wanted to order anything. Trent asked for a beer, and I asked for water. This was seriously the weirdest coffee house around. I mean, how many coffee shops have menus like a restaurant, a stage, and they serve beer? I think Griffin strove for uniqueness.

“They’re calling our names. Oh God,” Olivia mumbled, looking like she might throw up. “It’ll be fine,” Trace assured her. “You’ll be fine,” he reinforced, taking her face between his hands and giving her a kiss that shouldn’t be legal in public. I found myself turning away, feeling like I was witnessing something that was best kept private. Trace stood, as did Olivia, who reluctantly handed Dean to Trent as they headed for the stage. “Row?” Dean asked, finally spotting me. His arms reached out for me as he tried to climb out of Trent’s hold. I took the baby into my arms and he smiled goofily up at me. I held Dean in my arms as I looked towards the stage. Trace picked up a guitar and sat down on a stool, scooting the microphone towards him. Olivia grabbed another stool and sat down. Her eyes were closed and she was taking deep breaths. Trace said something into the microphone, no doubt charming the crowd, but I couldn’t pay attention because Dean had grabbed a strand of my hair and was currently yanking on it as he tried to shove it in his mouth. Trent noticed and began to laugh, but he was quick to help untangle me from the tight hold. I’m pretty sure Dean ripped out a few hairs. “That’s not nice,” Trent scolded, tapping Dean on the nose. My heart surged with an emotion I couldn’t begin to describe. Seeing Trent with Dean… it was amazing and heartbreaking all at the same time. Dean held his arms out for Trent and then proceeded to yank Trent’s beanie off his head. “He’s about to hit the terrible twos,” Trent explained. “Trace and Olivia are in for it with this monster,” he tickled Dean’s stomach. I laughed, ruffling the baby’s hair. My ears finally seemed to register that Trace and Olivia were singing. Both of their voices were incredible, but together they sounded phenomenal. My mouth dropped open in surprise as they covered Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran. “Wow,” I gasped. “They’re unbelievable.” “I know, right,” Trent grinned, wrangling a squirming Dean. I listened closely to the song and watched their interactions, how they sang to each other and not the crowd. It was a beautiful thing to watch. I was in awe, and I wasn’t afraid to show it. When they finished and sat down across from us once more, I bit down on my tongue to keep from gushing. I didn’t want to embarrass them or myself. Trace took Dean and deposited the squirming child in his lap. I began to laugh when I realized the father and son were wearing matching blue plaid shirts. I wondered how they’d ever found a child’s shirt to match. “Mew Mew,” Dean protested, reaching for Trent. “That’s Uncle Trent. Mew Mew isn’t here,” Trace told his son. “They don’t let carpet sharks run around restaurants.” I spat out my water. Thank God none of it landed on Olivia. It just splattered on the table. “Carpet shark?” I asked. “That’s what he calls Bartholomew,” Trent explained. “He thinks he’s so clever.” “I am clever,” Trace grinned, “among other things, like the most amazing kisser in the universe, and the best sex you’ll never have.” I blushed, but the stain in my cheeks in no way compared to the one infusing Olivia’s. “Ow,” Trace groaned, and I figured Olivia had punched him in the leg. “We’re going to head out now,” Olivia said, standing and pulling on her camel colored leather coat. “Now that my husband has made me feel thoroughly uncomfortable, that’s the cue that it’s time to go home.” “Shit,” Trace mumbled. “I’m in trouble.” “Oh, yes, you are,” Olivia stared him down. It was funny though, because despite her obvious mortification, I didn’t think she was actually really that mad at him, and more that she was putting on a show to scare him into never doing it again. They grabbed up their stuff and disappeared into the crowd, but not before saying goodbye. I really liked those two, and they were cute together. I also felt that given time I could end up being friends with Olivia. “Do you want to stay? Or head out?” Trent asked. I thought for a moment. “I’m ready to leave, but I don’t want to go home yet.”

He grinned at my words, clearly pleased with them. He finished his beer and slapped some bills on the table. “Let’s go.” It took me a moment to get my coat buttoned and pull my mittens on. Trent grabbed my hand again and we made our way outside. I’d grown hot in Griffin’s and the cool air felt like heaven against my heated skin. “It’s snowing!” I exclaimed, smiling at the large snowflakes falling from the sky. I spread my arms out wide and stuck my tongue out in the hopes of catching one. “Rowan, what are you doing?” Trent laughed as he watched me act like a little kid. I continued to spin around, marveling at the sound escaping me. I was giggling. I don’t know if I’d ever giggled in my entire life. “I’m living,” I finally answered as the snow swirled around us. I had never allowed myself to let go and be so free. I was finding that I really liked it. I felt like a weight was being lifted from my shoulders as I danced down the street, the snow falling into my hair, and sticking to my clothes. The cold didn’t touch me though. I was oddly warm, Trenton’s gaze heating my body. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing and suddenly I started to fall right into the street, straight into oncoming traffic. Trent darted forward, wrapping a solid hand around my arm and yanking me against his chest before I could go splat. My body thudded against his with the impact and we stumbled back. “Whoa,” he said, one hand on my waist, trying to balance us and keep us from falling. I clasped the soft fabric of his coat in my hands. I looked into his eyes and I was overcome by the one emotion I fought so hard to keep dormant—desire. “Row—” I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I took what I wanted. I was tall, but Trenton was taller, so I brought myself up to my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his. My heart raced in my chest at the intensity. The hand that was at my waist came up to cup the nape of my neck, his fingers gathering my long hair in its grasp. He lightly bit my bottom lip and growled against my lips, “I can’t deny this much longer. I want your legs wrapped around my waist, and I want to bury myself deep inside you.” I gasped at his words. Boldly, I leaned up and whispered in his ear, “Then do it.” “Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my hip. His eyes scanned my face, searching for something. A shiver passed over his body and he closed his eyes. Opening them, he bit his lip, and it had to be the sexiest thing I had ever seen. “Are you sure?” “Do you even need to ask?” I gasped, looking up at him as snowflakes stuck to my lashes. He didn’t answer. Instead, he took my face between his two large hands and kissed me until I forgot about everything except him. My cheeks warmed from the heat of his hands and my lips moved against his like they had a mind of their own. This was it. This was our now.

I had thought maybe Trent was going to stand on the sidewalk and kiss me in the snow all day. Finally though, he’d torn his lips away and pressed his forehead against mine. His chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths. Kissing the end of my nose, he’d asked, “Come home with me?” I hadn’t hesitated to take what I wanted and said yes. He opened the garage door, parking outside since a sleek black motorcycle occupied the space. As soon as I was out of his car I found my back pressed up against it with his lips assaulting mine. My legs wrapped around his waist and he gripped me just below my butt. His hips pressed against mine and my lips wrenched from his as I gasped. He carried me into the garage, hitting a button to close the door. He fumbled for the keys to unlock the door that led into his house. I placed my hand over his to steady him. He finally got the door open and we burst inside. He kicked the door closed with his booted foot. My mouth never left his as he carried me up two flights of steps and into the master bedroom. All the while we were tearing each other’s coats off. He sat down on the end of the bed with me straddling his lap. His stubbled cheeks rubbed against the

palms of my hands. I kissed him deeply—with every ounce of passion that possessed my body. I had to show him with my actions how I felt, because words could never compare. My hair was slightly damp from the snow melting in it and he brushed the strands away from my face as he rained kisses down my arched neck. I was sure, even with the only the slight pressure of his lips, he had to feel how fast my heart was beating. He tugged my sweater off and tossed it behind me. Scooting farther back on the bed he pulled me with him. I placed my hands flat against his chest and gave him a slight push. He toppled onto his back and I lowered over him, kissing him deeply as my hair fell forward to create a shield. His tongue played with mine and a soft moan escaped me. I thought I’d wanted Trent at sixteen years old, but my feelings then in no way compared to how I felt now. His hands were all over me, just as mine were with him. Both of us were feeling, tracing, and exploring the other’s body. I didn’t feel shy or hesitant like I thought I would. My hands skimmed his chest, pushing up the shirt he wore until he sat up to tear it off. He flipped over so he was above me and kissed over my naked stomach. His fingers found the button of my jeans and he stopped. He looked up at me and his blue eyes met mine. He braced himself above me, his eyes flicking to my lips and back to my eyes as his fingers lifted my chin. “Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes closing as if the question pained him. “Are you sure you want this?” He swallowed thickly. “Say the word, and we’ll stop. But if this goes too much further… I don’t know if I’ll be able to. I need you to stop me right now if you’re not okay with this.” “You’ve tempted me this far, why stop now?” That was answer enough for him. His lips descended to touch mine as his fingers easily found the button of my jeans. He pulled them down my thighs and I helped by kicking them off. “You. Are. Beautiful,” he enunciated each word while staring at a different part of my body. My lips, my breasts, and finally the skin peeking out above the top of my panties. When he looked at me like that, I believed him, in fact I would’ve believed anything he told me in that moment. “I want to love you in so many ways,” he confessed, kissing his way down my stomach. I couldn’t control the shiver that rocked my body. “But I’m scared I’ll end up pushing you away.” His blue eyes lifted to meet mine, stealing my air, my heart, my very soul. “I can’t survive losing you,” he admitted, and I could see how much it killed him to confess those words. “You’re not the one that got away. You’re the one.” It wasn’t until the words had left his lips that I understood how much I had needed to hear them. A part of me that I fought hard to silence had wondered if that’s all I was—the one that got away. He told me I wasn’t though. A weight was lifted off me, a weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying, and I could breathe. He looked at me, like he was waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t know what. I reached up and my fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Show me how much you love me,” I swallowed thickly, shocked that the dreaded L word had passed my lips. But neither of us were declaring anything—we were simply showing—and there was a difference, right? Trent’s eyes closed and when they opened… what I saw there scared me. That kind of look… it consumes you, it changes you, it ruins you. Oh yes, I was definitely ruined. “Kiss me,” I pleaded. A part of me hated that my voice sounded so breathless with want, but the bigger part didn’t care. I did want him, and I had nothing to be ashamed of. He was more than happy to oblige. He kissed me. He touched me. He loved me. He didn’t have to say the words, but I knew how he felt. I could see it clearly in his eyes. Unlike most girls, I didn’t want to hear those three words—they’d only send me running again. In my opinion, there was something so much more… magical, about seeing his love, rather than hearing it. Words are lies, but actions speak the truth. He kissed me thoroughly, his lips exploring every crevice of my body, and eventually the last of our clothes fell on the floor. Just when I thought I’d explode with want, he stopped.

“Trent?” I gasped his name, on the verge of begging. Jeez, since when did I beg? “There’s no turning back now,” he growled low in his throat, his teeth lightly biting the skin of my neck. “We reached the point of no return a long time ago,” I breathed, closing my eyes as he leaned over me, grabbing a condom out of the drawer of his nightstand. He fixed it on, and then pressed into me. A gasp escaped my parted lips and my hands sought something to hold, settling on the bed sheets. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he gritted his teeth. With a joking smile, he took my cheek in his hand, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a virgin.” He braced his hands on either side of my head, easing into me a little bit further. I tried not grimace, but I couldn’t help it. “Rowan…” He paused, unsure if he should continue with his question. After a brief hesitation, he found the courage. “How long has it been for you?” “Five years,” I admitted. “You mean…?” I nodded. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he lowered his head, kissing me so deeply that I couldn’t think about anything else as he inched the rest of the way inside me. His fingers entwined with mine and he pinned my arms above my head as he gently rocked in and out. There was nothing rushed about his movements. Everything was slow, sweet, and sensual. It was perfect. Somehow, even more perfect than the tent. He didn’t make me feel like I was just another girl beneath him. He made me feel like I was the girl as he worshipped my body. “You’re mine, Rowan,” he breathed against the skin of my neck, “one day you’ll see that.” “I already know,” I gasped, my hips lifting to meet his. “Good,” his lips crashed against mine, drawing a long moan from me. His lips left mine, as he trailed kisses down my body, his mouth closing over my breast. His hands still clasped in mine as he continued to slowly rock into my body, my legs falling open. What I saw in his expression scared and exhilarated me all at the same time. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for this,” Trenton confessed, his lips brushing against mine. “Please, don’t run from me this time.” In that moment he was so… vulnerable, and vulnerable certainly wasn’t one of the words that came to mind when you thought of Trent. I didn’t say anything, because I wasn’t sure that I could make that promise. I tilted my head up and kissed him, hoping that would suffice. He kissed me back, his tongue brushing my open lips before caressing my tongue. He released my hands and they skimmed down my body, making me shiver. His thumb found my clit and I clenched around him. “Trent,” I gasped, clawing at his back like a wild animal. His eyes were dark with pleasure as he watched me. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” A blush dotted my chest, running up my neck, and over my cheeks. “Your hair fanned out around you like this,” he picked up a long strand, “the desire in your eyes, and those kissable lips,” his thumb brushed over my bottom lip and slightly into my open my mouth. “I never want to let you leave.” He shut up then, kissing me deeply, as his thumb found that special spot again. I gasped beneath him, my hips jerking. “Trent, I’m gonna—” My words ended on a gasp, and my arms wrapped around him, holding him tight like I was scared I might float away and he was the only thing keeping me anchored. My muscles were coiled tight, but I’d also never felt so relaxed. Trent pumped into me a few more times and then his release stole over him. He kissed me deeply, sucking on my bottom lip. He released it with a pop and rolled over. I didn’t think I could move, but I didn’t want to either. I closed my eyes, fighting a smile. That had been… amazing. I hadn’t expected him to be so sweet and tender. I should’ve known though, it was Trent after all… it wasn’t like him to be rough, although something told me he could be when he wanted to, and that excited me. The bed creaked and I knew Trent had gotten up. It dipped again a minute later, and he pulled me

against his body. With his other hand he pulled the covers up over us. He brushed my hair away from my neck, pressing kisses to the area where my neck met my shoulders. “I don’t deserve you,” I whispered so low I was sure he couldn’t have heard it. “Why do you say that?” All of my lies clung to me like a dirty, sinful, second skin that wouldn’t wash away no matter how hard I tried. Trent couldn’t see it, but once he did he’d never look at me the same. I had lived this lie for so long that it felt like the truth. It wasn’t though. And once it was out in the open, none of our lives would ever be the same. “No reason,” I finally said, letting his warmth wash over me. “You’re just too good for me.” “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, his lips gliding over my shoulder. “You’re unable to see the goodness that resides right here,” he placed his hand over my heart and it sped up at his touch, “you’re one of the kindest, most giving people I know. I wish you could see that. Until you do, I’ll have to remind you every single day,” his words were punctuated by light kisses to my arm. “I should go,” I mumbled, trying to pull out of his arms. “You’re not going anywhere,” he tightened his hold. “You’re staying right here until the last possible second.” I closed my eyes, clasping my hands under my head. “You’re bossy, you know that right?” “Not bossy,” he snuggled close, burying his head into the curve of my neck, his breath tickling my skin pleasantly. “I just know what I want.” I rolled over, so we were face to face. I lightly traced my finger over his cheek and around his lips. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but when I opened my mouth no sound came out. He tucked my head under his chin and I decided that it wasn’t time to say any of those things. Unfortunately, there probably never would be a good time.

I closed the door to the library and eyed the stack of books I still had to put away. I’d been unusually slow working today, my mind distracted with a million and one thoughts. I hadn’t seen Trenton in three days. We’d talked on the phone and texted, but the kids Christmas break had started and it made it nearly impossible to get away. I didn’t want to leave them home with my mom if I didn’t have to, and I couldn’t bug Colleen every day. I hated to admit it, but I missed him. Damn Wentworth. He was impossible not to succumb to. He was just so… Trent. I changed into my favorite loose gray sweater and jeans, before I grabbed the cart of books and began putting them away. Since we were on break, I obviously wouldn’t be staying to work on homework, but I had hoped to get some personal reading time in. It didn’t look like that would happen now. I hummed a song I’d heard on the radio this morning, inserting a word here and there. Somebody laughing had me jumping out of my skin. Everyone was supposed to be gone and I hadn’t heard anyone approach. I turned sharply, a book clutched to my chest in case I needed to use one of the sharp edges as a weapon. “Trent,” I gasped, unable to hide my smile. I rarely smiled, but Trent seemed to always be able to make me happy. “How’d you get in here?” “Some idiot left the door unlocked,” he eyed me. “Shit,” I cursed. “I normally lock it. I forgot,” I shrugged, still holding tightly onto the book for some reason. “I was planning to text you to let me in, but since the door was conveniently left unlocked,” he stalked towards me, lowering his head, “there was no need.” His lips brushed against my jaw. “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you,” he placed a hand against my neck and grinned crookedly when he felt my pulse jump. “So… you thought you’d just stop by?” My fingers grasped his leather jacket, drawing him closer. “Mhmm,” he nodded, his eyes hooded. “To talk…?” “I just wanted to see you,” he said huskily, his breath tickling my neck. “But now that I’m here,” his fingers dug into my hips, “I want to do a whole lot more.” My heart skipped a beat. “You mean—” He didn’t wait for me to finish. He claimed my lips with his, asserting his dominance and control. He lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and he braced one of his hands against the bookshelf my back was pressed against. It certainly wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it was hot as hell, and frankly I didn’t care. It felt so good to be in his arms again. “I want to take you right here,” he growled, nibbling on my earlobe.

“Do it,” I pleaded, desire filling my body at his words. He didn’t have to be told twice. He had us undressed in under a minute and put a condom on. My body was already buzzing with want and need. He lifted me up again and I sank down on him, both of us moaning in response. I took his face between my hands and lowered my mouth to his. I never would’ve thought I’d be into something like this, but the spontaneity had me feeling like this was pretty damn hot. For once, I wasn’t thinking. I was letting myself go and doing what I wanted, not what I felt like I should do. Being in Trent’s arms felt so good—better than I wanted it to. I had been trying so hard to guard my heart all these years, but there was nothing I could do to prevent Trenton from staking claim. I belonged to him. He pressed my back against the shelves and the books began to rattle. I might have laughed if I hadn’t been enjoying myself so much. This was definitely… rougher, than the other day, but with Trent there was always an underlying sweetness. He sped up his thrusts and—“Oh my God!” My head fell back as a soft cry escaped me. “Trent!” Trent watched me with lust filled eyes, smiling at what he was doing to me. “I like it when you scream my name,” he whispered, lightly biting my neck before placing a kiss there. “You have no idea what seeing you like this does to me.” His eyes were dilated, only a thin ring of blue showing. “I think I have some idea.” My voice was breathless as I wiggled my hips, my fingers finding the soft strands of his hair. “Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” Trent gasped, his hands on my hips as he guided me up and down. My eyes closed as I let myself succumb to the pleasure coursing through my veins. Trenton holding me like this, it was like he filled every part of me, and our eyes rarely strayed from each other’s—creating an intimate bubble. He grasped my thighs in his hands, and said, “Hold on.” I held on tightly to his muscular shoulders as he started carrying me, and I soon found myself lying on a table. The wood was cool and my sweat dampened skin wanted to stick to it. Trent pushed into me and I gasped, my nails digging into his arms. “Did I hurt you?” He stilled. I shook my head. “No, it feels really good. Do it again.” He did, and my back arched off the table as he reached down and took my breasts in his hands. “You have no idea how happy it makes me that this,” he stared at my body, “hasn’t been seen by anyone but me.” I didn’t answer, because I didn’t have anything to say except, you own me, and there was no way I was saying that out loud. “I never want anyone else to see you like this, spread out beneath them,” he continued. “I want you to belong to me and only me,” he growled, lowering his lips to mine as he staked his claim. He didn’t need to though. I had been his from the moment I met him. There were too many other circumstances standing in our way, keeping us from a happy life together. I had made so many mistakes and my regrets continued to pile up, slowly suffocating me from the inside out. “What’s wrong?” He asked, gazing down at me with a puzzled expression. “You look upset.” I shook my head, reaching up so my fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. “Rowan…” He pressed. “Make me forget,” I whispered in his ear. “Forget what?” He questioned, looking at me worriedly. “Everything.”

Trent had definitely been able to make me forget. After the table, we’d sunk to the floor and started the whole process over again. Now, we lay spread out on the floor, still naked, and my body was wrapped around his. I never wanted to move, because once I did I’d have to return to my messed up life.

His lips pressed against my forehead. “I have something I want to ask you… and please, don’t get mad, hear me out.” “Okay…” I ventured hesitantly. “Usually when someone says ‘don’t get mad’ it’s because you’re going to get mad.” He swallowed thickly, looking up at the ceiling of the library. “Come to New York with me.” I was not expecting that to come out of his mouth. “Trent, you know—” “I know, you have to look after your siblings. But can’t you find someone else for a week? We could go over Christmas,” he tucked my hair behind my ear, “and return in time to go to my family’s annual New Year’s Eve party, then I would reluctantly take you home,” he chuckled. I bit my lip, chewing on it nervously. Since I’d been able to drive, I’d been taking the kid’s to our grandma’s and spending a few days to a week there for the holidays. That’s what I had been planning to do this year, but… I could always drop them off and go with Trent. I knew they’d be in good hands with her. I wouldn’t have to worry, and I could enjoy myself. I deserved to do something for myself, right? “I… I need to think about it,” I whispered, tracing my finger along his chest and down his abs. “Well,” he sighed, “thinking about it is certainly better than a flat out no.” I really did want to do it—even though the thought of being alone with Trent for a full week scared me. I knew that winter break would end soon and he’d be gone for a while. His University was only two hours away, but when you have classes and homework, it could be hard to find time to visit. I certainly didn’t want to be one of those clingy girls begging him to come home every weekend. I would miss him though, and I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. “Why New York?” I asked, truly curious. “We have a place in the city, and it’s spectacular this time of the year. Plus, I’d like to spend more time with you, and New York City seemed like a good place. We’re far enough away that you can relax and enjoy yourself without worrying about your brother and sister, but close enough to get back quickly if we need to.” “You’ve really thought this through.” I glanced up at him as he twirled a lock of my hair around his finger. He nodded with a grin. “I understand if you can’t… or even if you don’t want to.” “I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” I sat up a bit to look at him, my hair falling forward to conceal my breasts. “I need to think about it though… okay?” “Take your time, but if we’re going to do this, we leave in four days,” he held up four fingers like I couldn’t count. My heart was already beating wildly at the thought of spending a whole week alone with Trenton. I wasn’t sure it was the best thing for us—at this point, I didn’t want to let myself get anymore… attached—but if I didn’t go, I’d always wonder what might have happened. “I need to see if my grandparent’s are okay with keeping Tristan and Ivy that long. The three of us normally spend Christmas with them, and come home a few days before New Year’s,” my eyes studied the unique tattoo on his arm, “so they’d need to keep them longer than normal…” “Don’t be worried about disappointing me,” he reached up, cupping my cheek. “I want to go,” I assured him, putting my hand overtop his. “If you can’t go, maybe… maybe you’d come over to my family’s place, and bring your siblings?” He suggested, biting on his lip, and giving me a look that didn’t have me thinking about what he just said. I lowered my head and pressed my lips to his. His fingers tangled in my hair as he kissed me back. “What was that for?” He asked, panting slightly. “You looked so kissable that I couldn’t resist,” I admitted, looking down shyly. I wasn’t one to spout my feelings or to admit to such things. “I like this side of you,” Trent remarked, watching me steadily. “What side?” I questioned with a raised brow. “The free one,” his thumb rubbed over my bottom lip. “You’re always so closed off, but lately you’ve been opening up more… laughing, smiling, being… free,” he repeated. “I’ve been through a lot,” I whispered, shame causing me to look down at the carpeted floor. “I know you have,” he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, “and I hope one day, you’ll trust me enough to tell me everything. Until then, I won’t push you, but I will be here for you. I will always be here.”

I closed my eyes, wishing his words were true. I knew he meant them, in this moment at least, but if he knew the truth of what I had done he’d leave and never come back.

I finished cleaning up from breakfast and ran around trying to get ready. Before she left last night, Mary had offered me more hours today. More hours meant more money, and I needed all the money I could get. I pulled on a red button down jacket to brighten up my black skirt and white top. I opened the door to the kids’ room and kissed them on top of their heads. “I have to go in to work, but I’ll be home early today. Be good.” Tristan clung to my neck. “Don’t go, Row.” “I have to,” I told him, unwinding his arms from their stranglehold. At Tristan’s age he couldn’t understand that I was doing this for him, for them, in the hopes of giving them a better life. I was doing the best I could, but most times it seemed like I wasn’t trying at all. I kissed his small hand and ruffled his hair. “I’ll be home before you know it.” His sad face made it hard to push myself out the door but I had to. Outside, the cold air whipped around me, blowing my hair in my face. I pushed the strands away and got in my car, rubbing my hands together for warmth as I waited for heat to pour into the frigid vehicle. I backed out of the driveway, wondering where my step-dad was. He was gone more and more lately, and I was sure yet another divorce was in my mom’s future. I parked and hurried into the library, ready to be out of the cold. I was headed to clock-in when Mary called out for me. “Yes?” I turned, searching for the older woman. When I spotted her she crooked her finger, motioning me to her. “Yeah?” I asked, when I stopped in front of her. The way she was looking at me had me breaking out in a nervous sweat. “Honey, I have some bad news,” she patted my arm. It was obvious she didn’t want to continue to speak further, but had to. “We have to let you go.” “What?” I gasped, stumbling back. I needed this job. Without it, I was screwed. “Why?” I couldn’t understand. Was this some cruel joke? I was a hard worker and I never caused trouble. “Honey,” her voice was hushed, “there was… something on the security tapes.” I closed my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. “We can’t have someone working here that would do something like that,” she looked at me sadly, not with disgust, which surprised me. I nodded. “I understand.” I cringed at the fact that Mary, someone I respected, had seen me like that. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to look at her ever again. I walked away from her and out the door, straight to my car. My posture was stiff and I was completely stunned that that had just happened. I couldn’t seem to process the fact that I had just gotten fired. I knew what Trent and I had done in the library was wrong, and I had to pay the consequences. I leaned my head against the headrest. Unlike most people, I was more upset over losing my job than I was about them having watched Trent and I have sex. Without a job, I was screwed. Simple as that. I picked up my phone, my fingers clumsy with my anger. “Hello?” Trent answered and he sounded half-asleep. “I got fired,” I seethed. “I need that job, Trent! I don’t know what I’m going to do!” “Whoa, slow down,” he sounded slightly more alert, “why’d you get fired?” I frowned, staring up at the ceiling of my car. “They saw us, Trent… on the security tapes.” “A library has cameras?” He asked in disbelief. “Yeah,” I said slowly, angry with myself. “I have to have a job, Trent.” My head fell against the steering wheel, honking the horn. “Did you just honk your car horn?” He chuckled. “It was an accident,” I mumbled.

“So… they seriously have it on tape?” He cleared his throat. “Us having sex?” “No, they fired me because I let a bunny loose around the library!” I was getting pissed now. “Of course they have it on tape!” “Think they’d let me buy it?” His voice was serious. “Trent!” I exclaimed. “What? I didn’t say I was going to watch it,” he said, and there was rustling in the background. “But I’d hate for something like that to get out. I can tell you’re upset. Let me fix this.” “I don’t care about the sex tape! All I care about is the fact that I’m jobless!” Trent chuckled. “You are such an unusual woman. As for your ‘jobless’ problem, I think I have a solution for that.” “You do?” For the first time since Mary had said they’d have to let me go, I could breathe again. “Yeah,” he mumbled and there was more shuffling. “Meet me at Trace’s.” “Uh… I don’t know where he lives.” He laughed at that. “I meant at his shop.” “Oh, okay. I’m pretty close,” I muttered, already backing out of the parking lot. “Just wait in your car until I get there,” he told me. “I can do that,” I breathed, relief flooding my body. Wentworth Wheels was only about five minutes from the library. I parked on the street, instead of the lot. I didn’t want Trace coming out and asking me why I was there before Trent arrived. I stayed alert, watching for Trent’s black car. When it pulled into the lot across the street, I got out of my car, braving the cold. He was already out of his car and grinning as I jogged across the street. Thank God I’d worn flats today. “I can’t believe the librarians watched us have sex,” he laughed with a smirk. “Stop talking about it,” I gagged, “and don’t you dare say anything to your brother about this,” I pointed a warning finger at him. “Trust me, I won’t,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I’d never hear the end of it from him. Come on,” Trent waved for me to follow him into the garage. In my skirt and button down jacket, I felt extremely over dressed. Plus, my legs were cold. “Trace?” Trent called out. “Where are you?” Something metal clanged to the ground, and then we heard, “Over here,” coming from our right. “What are you guys doing here?” Trace asked, sliding out from under a car and scaring me half to death. “I have a solution to your problem,” Trent smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. “What problem?” Trace slid out even further so he could sit up. “The one where the phone’s always ringing and you have to stop working to answer it.” Trent’s grin widened further if that was even possible. “And how have you solved it?” Trace pushed his dark hair out of his eyes before draping his arms over his knees. “Rowan,” he pointed to me. “Me?” I gasped. “She needs a job. You need someone to answer phones and check inventory. It’s a win-win,” Trent shrugged. “Feel free to thank me and shower me with your affections.” He bowed dramatically. “Why do you like this guy?” Trace looked up at me. “He’s really dumb.” “Remember,” Trent leaned against the side of the car Trace was working on, “we both came from the same sperm and egg.” “And that was unfortunate,” Trace jumped up and ruffled Trent’s hair, “I got all the good looks. Sucks for you.” Trent shook his head. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel better.” Ignoring his younger brother, Trace eyed me. “Can you handle answering the phone and setting up appointments, plus keep track of parts I need to order?” There was a challenge in his eyes, like he didn’t think I could really do it. “That’s easy,” I said sassily. I was the kind of person who always rose to the challenge, and this was no exception.

Trace smiled crookedly. “Welcome to Wentworth Wheels,” he held out his hand for me to take. “Just don’t have sex in the office and we’re good.” My eyes threatened to bug out of my head. How did he know? He was making a joke about Trent and I in the library, right? “I’m kidding, Rowan. Relax,” he laughed easily, “have all the sex you want, as long as I don’t have to walk in on it. That’s happened one too many times with Avery and Luca, and let me tell you, that’s something no one wants to see.” With that, Trace sat back down and slid under the car. “Can you start tomorrow?” He slid back out so just his head poked through from beneath the car. “Absolutely.” Then he was gone again. Trent and I walked back outside. “What was with the sex comment?” I asked him. “Did you tell him what happened at the library?” I’d thought he’d said as we came in that he didn’t want Trace knowing, but he seemed to be aware of something to make that sort of remark. I was about ten seconds away from being pissed if he’d told his brother what happened. I’d never be able to look Trace in the eye ever again. “What? No, of course not,” he stopped walking. “Why would you think that?” He asked, his thick brows furrowing together. “Um, because of the no sex in the office comment,” I tossed my thumb over my shoulder, pointing at the garage. “Oh, that’s because of Luca and Avery,” he shrugged as he started walking towards his car. “They’re real people?” “Yeah,” he laughed, stopping by his car and crossing his arms over his chest. “Luca is Trace’s best friend, which I seriously don’t understand since the guy barely speaks, and Avery is his fiancé… wife,” he shook his head, scolding himself for the mistake. “They’re gone on their honeymoon now.” “And they both work here and have sex in the office?” I was so confused. Trent laughed, clearly amused by me. “Luca does. He helps Trace. Avery’s just hornier than a guy and can’t leave him alone.” “That’s not very nice of you to say,” I frowned. Trent shook his head, giving me a small smile. “Once you meet Avery, you’ll see what I mean.” I wasn’t so sure I wanted to meet this Avery. She sounded like she’d get on my nerves. “I’ll see you later.” I wasn’t sure if I should kiss him, or hug him, or I don’t know what, so I turned and walked away. That seemed to be the safer option. “Wait!” He called, the gravel crunching beneath his boots. “Why don’t we go to lunch?” “I should really go home,” I mumbled. “But if you were working you wouldn’t be home,” he peered down at me. He was right. “Fine,” I relinquished without any fight. “I’ll follow you.” Ten minutes later I found myself sitting at the same booth in the same restaurant I thought Trent might kill Jude in. I couldn’t help but feel a bit nostalgic when I thought of it, and what had then happened in the bathroom. I also couldn’t believe I’d just gotten fired. I couldn’t care less about the ‘sex tape’ as Trent kept calling it. Did it really count as a sex tape if it was caught on a security camera? Probably. “I’ll have the club sandwich,” I told the waiter, handing over the menu. Trent placed his order and eyed me over his glass of water. “Didn’t you get that last time?” “I did,” I nodded, “and it was delicious. That’s why I got it again.” “Why not try something new?” He suggested, his smile widening so that I caught sight of the small dimple in his cheek—it didn’t always show, but when it did, it was adorable. I squeezed the lemon, dropping it into my water before taking a sip. “If I like something, I don’t see the need to try something else.” Trent cleared his throat and wiggled in his seat, like he was unsure if he wanted to ask something. “Is that why you… uh… haven’t been with anyone else… since me?” His voice was hushed so it didn’t carry through the restaurant. I traced my finger over some words carved into the table. “I guess you could say that,” I shrugged. “If you… had feelings for me all these years,” he ventured, “why did you stay away?” His eyes were

truly inquisitive and I knew he genuinely didn’t understand why I had avoided him. “I had my reasons,” I answered vaguely. “Your mom?” He pressed me for more information. “She was part of it,” I sighed, swirling my finger around the condensation shimmering on top of the table from my water glass. “You can talk to me about her, Rowan.” I looked up at him and his eyes pleaded with me to open up to him. I couldn’t do it though. I wasn’t the kind of girl to confess her feelings and seek comfort in the arms of another person. I preferred to fight my demons on my own. I didn’t need Trent to slay my dragons and be my knight in shining armor. I could save myself… I didn’t know if I wanted to though. “Rowan?” He repeated my name when I didn’t say anything. With a sigh, I said, “I know I can, but I don’t want to. It’s not something I like to talk about.” I stared down at my water glass and away from his eyes that always saw too much. “Fine,” he sat back, “I won’t push you.” Tapping his fingers along the back of the booth, he asked, “Have you thought anymore about going to New York with me?” He questioned. “You asked me last night! This morning I lost my job! So, no, I haven’t thought about it,” I snapped. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “I really want you to go.” “I want to go too,” I admitted, crossing my arms over my chest, “but I have to work things out with the kids.” “I understand,” he nodded. “No, you don’t,” I muttered. “You don’t get it at all.” “Why are you in such a mood today?” He eyed me. “Is this a PMS thing or something?” “No, it’s called a ‘you’re being annoying’ mood,” I countered, looking around the restaurant. I began to feel bad though. I shouldn’t have been taking my anger out on him. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t get much sleep, and getting fired was the icing on the cake for this craptastic day.” Trent grinned. “Why are you smiling?” I asked. “Because, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that you’re sorry.” “Well, there’s a first time for everything.” I sat up straighter. “There most certainly is,” he smirked.

“I don’t want to go to grandma’s without you!” Tristan protested, stomping his foot. “You love grandma’s,” I kneeled on the ground so that we were eye level. “You’re going to have so much fun and bake cookies for Santa!” “I want you to help me,” he pouted. “I’m sorry, Tristan,” I ran my fingers through his sandy hair, “but I need to do this.” Watching the tears brim his eyes was tearing me apart. Maybe I could tell Trent I had changed my mind. I knew he’d understand. “Okay,” Tristan finally agreed as he hugged me. Just as I was beginning to talk myself out of it, he’d finally agreed. He was such an easygoing child, and so easy to love. I kissed his cheek and he squirmed. “Ew, Row! Don’t kiss me!” “Get in the car,” I told him. “Grandma is waiting for us.” I checked the trunk again to make sure I had all their stuff and the gifts from Santa that I had carefully hidden. My grandparents lived over an hour away in a much nicer neighborhood than the one we lived in. We didn’t visit them much. My mom didn’t like for them to help us. I’d been bringing Tristan and Ivy to their house for Christmas since I could drive, and our mom always stayed behind. I knew Ivy still remembered previous Christmas’ we’d had with our mom, and it never ended well. Tristan was lucky enough to have never experienced it. I pulled into the driveway of the nice two-story home. I wasn’t surprised when the door opened and my grandma appeared, her arms spread wide to welcome Tristan and Ivy into her embrace. I grabbed their suitcases, watching her chat happily with them as they beamed up at her. I didn’t have a very good relationship with my grandparents. It was nothing like what I had with my mom, but I didn’t really know them. I’d never allowed myself to. My mom had made me wary of other people, and because of it I’d shut off my emotions. If you didn’t feel, the things people did to you could never hurt you. As my mom got worse, I had reached out to my grandparents for Ivy and Tristan’s sake. I did enjoy being here though, it was peaceful, and I didn’t have to worry about my gross step-dad or my drunk mother. I wheeled the suitcases up the pathway, the bag with the presents slung over my shoulder. Tristan and Ivy had gone inside, but my grandma waited, holding the door open for me. “I’m sad you won’t be staying,” she smiled kindly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I was looking forward to spending time with all of you.” “I’m sorry I can’t stay.” I placed the suitcases and bag by the steps, shoving my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. The house was clean, warm, and welcoming. The scent of cinnamon hung in the air. “Are you baking something?”

She nodded. “Cookies. Would you like some?” I started to say no, but instead I found myself nodding. “Come on then,” she closed the door and waved for me to follow her down the hallway to the kitchen. I ran my finger along the marble countertops, smiling at the kids as they devoured the cookies. Being in this house, and seeing how nice my grandparents were, made me question how my mom had become such a monster. “Here,” she held out a baggy filled with snickerdoodle cookies. I gladly accepted them as she patted my cheek. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman. I wish we saw you more often. All of you,” she smiled at Tristan and Ivy. “Please, don’t let your mom keep you away from us.” I frowned. It wasn’t my mom that kept me away, it was my fear of abandonment. Keeping at a safe distance meant you couldn’t be disappointed by someone’s actions. I’d given Trenton a chance though, so why not them? “We’ll try to visit more often,” I smiled. “I have to go,” I looked over at Ivy and Tristan. “Give me a hug.” They dove at me, getting cookie crumbs all over my shirt and on the floor. “I’m so sorry,” I lowered, stretching my arm out to pick up the crumbs. “Don’t worry about it,” my grandma reached down, grabbing my arm and helping me up. Stray pieces of gray hair fell into her face. “Can I… can I hug you goodbye?” “Yeah, of course,” I mumbled, as I hugged the woman. Was I such a horrible person that my grandma felt like she had to ask for my permission to hug me? “I love you, Rowan,” she smiled as she led me back to the front door. Love. There was that word again, the word that made me cringe and feel like my insides were curling in on themselves. Love was nothing but a lie in my mind. “Mhmm,” I mumbled. Pointing at the bag I’d dropped on the floor earlier, I said, “Their presents are in there. Be sure to hide it.” “I will,” she assured me, standing in the doorway as I headed to my car. “Have fun!” I waved my hand and got in my car. I sat there for a moment, staring at the house and the happy picture it made. When had I gotten so messed up? When had my childhood innocence transitioned me into this hardened shell of a person? Would I ever be able to break free of myself?

Back home, I still had an hour before Trent was picking me up for our evening flight. I hadn’t packed yet. I had stared at my closet, willing the clothes to magically appear in the open suitcase, but so far that wasn’t working. Everything I owned didn’t seem like it was enough, but it would have to do. I didn’t have the money to go out and buy a whole new wardrobe. I packed what I had that I felt would be acceptable for a city like Manhattan and zipped the luggage. “Where are you going?” I jumped at the sound of my step-dad’s voice. I hadn’t heard him come home. I guess since he’d been gone for a few days I expected him not to come back. “I’m leaving for a week,” I answered. “That’s not what I asked you,” he stepped further into my room and it felt like the aqua walls were closing in around me. “I don’t see how where I’m going is any of your business,” I stood up straighter. I would not be intimidated and I would not act afraid. I was a strong woman and I wouldn’t let this insignificant piece of shit frighten me. Jim preyed on the weak, and I certainly wasn’t that. He reached out, wrapping a strand of my hair around his finger and tugging—hard. My teeth ground together as I fought to control the wince that so desperately wanted to twist my face. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” The words were hissed between my teeth and they barely sounded human. I was sick of being afraid in my own house. Jim clucked his tongue. “You can’t talk to me like that.” He pushed me onto my bed, and all the air left my lungs as his body fell on mine, pining me to the mattress.

Panic shook my body. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. The counting calmed me and helped to clear my head. Jim pinned my wrists down and despite the fact that he was a scrawny man he was still strong. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I counted again and then again. His lips were sucking on my neck as he ground his hips into me. I knew screaming was futile. My mom was passed out drunk in bed, and the neighbors would never hear. I was on my own. “Stop,” I tried to wriggle my arms free. “Stop it!” “Shh, I know you want it,” he continued to suckle my neck. I was going to throw up. “You asshole, last time I checked ‘stop’ didn’t translate to somebody wanting something!” I squirmed some more, but his hold didn’t lessen. “Let me go!” I’d given him the perfect opportunity for this. Tristan and Ivy were gone, and he knew my mom would never wake up. If only I had already been gone. A part of me had been anticipating something like this happening for a while. Disturbing, I know, but the guy was a creep. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I prayed it was a text from Trent, saying he was here. Counting on Trent to be outside waiting, I kneed Jim in gut. He grunted, releasing my wrists. His face was red with anger. He pulled his fist back to punch me, but I head-butted him in the face first. Blood spurted everywhere, and he fell to the ground, clutching his broken nose. “Bitch!” He spat. My heart racing, I grabbed my suitcase and ran out of the house. Trent wasn’t parked outside, like I had expected. I felt myself beginning to panic. I turned around, looking behind me to see if Jim was coming after me. He wasn’t. I knew he wouldn’t, but I was still scared. I was out in the open, where any of the neighbors would see him attack me, and Jim wasn’t stupid. My head throbbed painfully where I’d bashed my head against his nose, and I knew I’d end up with a killer headache. As I pressed my hand against my head, I happened to look down and see blood—his blood—on my shirt. My panic escalated, making my heart race painfully in my chest. I needed it off. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I dropped to my knees, my hands shaking as I wrenched off my shirt and tossed it somewhere in the snow covered yard. I didn’t care if one of the neighbors looked out and saw me in the yard in only my bra. I had to be rid of that shirt. I opened my suitcase and pulled out a sweatshirt, yanking it on. I had just zipped my suitcase closed when I looked up to see Trent’s black car coming down the street. Thank God. I wheeled my suitcase down to the end of the driveway. Trent was quick to hop out and take it from me, putting it in the trunk. “Are you okay?” He asked, as he got in the car and looked over at me. My knee was bouncing restlessly and I couldn’t stop my hands from wringing together. I knew I couldn’t play this off like it was nothing. This wasn’t my normal behavior and Trent wasn’t stupid. “Just drive. I want to get away from here.” “Row—” “Please, Trenton,” I begged, my lower lip trembling with the threat of tears—tears I was determined to never let spill over. He nodded and didn’t say anything as he put the car in drive. I let out a sigh of relief, relaxing against the seat as we left my house and the horrendous people inhabiting it, behind. A few minutes had passed before Trent spoke. “Now that we’re a safe distance from your house, can you tell me what happened?” I scrubbed the palms of my hands on the fabric of my ripped jeans. I knew I had to tell him something, but I didn’t know what. If I opened up and told him what Jim had done, I knew Trent would turn around and go back to my house, most likely killing the man. Trent ending up in jail because of me, wasn’t something I was willing to let happen. “It was nothing,” I waved my hand dismissively. “I got in a fight with my step-dad.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before turning onto the interstate. The muscle in his jaw

ticked and I knew he was contemplating what to say next. “Did he… hurt you?” “It was nothing I can’t handle,” I mumbled, propping my head on my hand and looking out the window. “Rowan,” his hands landed on my knee, “you can tell me.” “It was nothing,” I repeated yet again. Maybe if I said the words enough I’d start to believe them. He sighed, scratching his jaw. “I know you’re not telling me something. I’m not dumb, Row, but I’m not going to push you for information either. I want you to open up to me because you trust me, not because I’m pressing you.” He sighed, turning down the music in the car. I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the cold glass. I couldn’t love. I couldn’t trust. And without those two very important factors, how could I ever live? “Rowan?” I opened my eyes and lifted my head to look at him. “Yeah?” “I want us to have fun on this trip, okay?” He waited for me to nod before continuing. “I understand that there’s things you don’t want to tell me, and I’ll respect that… for now,” he eyed me. “Whatever happened with your step-dad, let’s just put that behind us.” I wanted to kiss him. That was how thankful I was to know he was dropping this. I knew Trent had to be itching to ask me more, but for the sake of not pushing me too far, he was going to let it go. “Thank you,” I smiled at him gratefully, reaching for his hand. His eyes flickered down to where I had entwined our fingers together. I knew he was a bit shocked by the gesture since I wasn’t the biggest fan of handholding. He gave my hand a slight squeeze, his eyes watching the road ahead of us. “Have you ever been on a plane before?” He asked. I couldn’t contain my laughter at his very poor change of subject. “Never,” I answered, choosing not to call him out. “So, I’m taking it you haven’t been into the city either?” “No,” I shook my head, looking out the side window at the farmland rushing past us. “This is going to be fun,” he laughed, sounding like an excited little boy. “Something tells me I should be afraid of your excitement.” I couldn’t help but smile. Now that so many miles were between my home and us, I was feeling looser… more free. It helped that Trent wasn’t pressing me for information. I was happy that, for now at least, he was respecting my privacy. “I promise you have nothing to be afraid of,” he winked. “Mhmm,” I mumbled doubtfully. “We’ll do some sightseeing, but in all honesty, I’m really not that interested in showing you the city,” he grinned. “Oh, really… and what is it you’re so excited to show me, then?” “The bed.” “The bed?” I laughed. He nodded excitedly. “It’s a big bed. With fluffy pillows.” “And are we just going to lay on this bed?” “Hmm,” he pretended to think, “I might kiss you… if you’re nice to me.” “Is that it?” I smiled, liking this game. “If you appreciate my kisses, and you’re really nice to me, I might take your clothes off.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “What about your clothes?” I countered. “Oh, they’ll come off in time, if you’re really, really nice to me. I have to make you work for it,” he chuckled. “This,” he took his free hand off the steering wheel for a moment to wave at his body, “is a work of art, and only special people are allowed to feast their eyes upon its magnificence.” “So, what happens once we’re both naked?” I bit down on my lip to stifle my laughter. He bit his lip. “I might touch you, but only if—” “I’m really, really, really, nice?” I interrupted. “You’re catching on,” he winked. He released my hand, his skimming up my thigh and resting dangerously close to where I needed him

most. “I’d really like to touch you here,” he whispered huskily, his fingers skimming over the seam of my jeans and making me squirm. My legs snapped together and he chuckled. “Open your legs.” Slowly, I did as he asked. His fingers brushed against there again and my eyes closed as my breath faltered. After another stroke, his fingers were gone. I opened my eyes and looked over at him. He wore a smug smile. “Don’t worry, there’s more where that came from, but you’re going to have to wait.”

The Wentworth’s had a private plane. I mean, of course they had a private plane. But I hadn’t been expecting it. I had been nervous for the flight, having never been on a plane before. Trent was an excellent distraction though. Well, his lips were. We departed the plane and a sleek black car was waiting for us. I felt like I had stepped into a dream or something. Surely this wasn’t real life. One man placed our luggage in the trunk of the car, while the driver got out to open the door. Trent slid inside and I followed him. I looked around the dark inside of the car like it was the coolest thing I had ever seen. Trent watched me, a smile playing on his lips that he tried to hide behind his hand. “To the Penthouse Mr. Wentworth?” The driver asked, driving towards the exit. “Yes,” Trent smiled at my wide-eyed expression. Penthouse. This was too much. I didn’t belong in this kind of world—of fancy houses and cars. I was certainly wowed by the luxury surrounding me, but it also served as a reminder as to how different we were. My mouth dropped open as we drove into the city. The skyscrapers, the lights, the people… all of it didn’t seem real. “Wow,” I gasped, turning in my seat to see better. “Are you happy you came?” Trent asked, brushing my hair off my shoulder. I nodded. “Thank you… this is amazing.” “Don’t thank me yet,” he grinned, twisting the leather bracelet around on his wrist, “the fun hasn’t even started.” The driver made a sharp turn and suddenly we were descending into darkness. I hadn’t even noticed the parking garage I’d been so absorbed by everything else. The driver parked beside an elevator and hopped out to get the door for us. He offered me his hand and helped me out. “I’ll have someone bring up your bags, Mr. Wentworth,” the man said, smoothing his fingers down his emerald green tie. He appeared to be in his fifties with graying hair and kind brown eyes. “Thank you, John,” Trent said, shaking the man’s hand. I wasn’t sure, but I was positive I saw Trent slip some money into his hand. “Come on, Row,” his hand touched my waist, guiding me to the elevator. “Let’s get settled before I show you the city.” He pushed the button for the elevator and I looked over my shoulder to see John pulling away. The elevator doors opened and my jaw fell. I never knew an elevator could be so fancy. The floors were covered in marble and the walls and ceiling were covered in a dark wood paneling. “Based on how fancy this is,” I remarked, looking around the elevator in awe as we stepped inside, “I’m a bit scared to see what the penthouse looks like.” Trent chuckled, inserting a key into a slot and turning it, then pushing a button. The elevator began to ascend and with each floor we got higher, my heart raced faster. It finally stopped on the very top floor and I held my breath as the doors opened. I let out a gasp as Trent grabbed my hand, leading me inside. The foyer area had marble floors, similar to what was in the elevator, and a round table sat in the middle with a large flower arrangement.

He pulled me through an archway and I gasped at the view. Windows spanned the whole back wall, and it felt like the skyscrapers were inside the room. “This is stunning.” I walked up to the windows, placing my palm against the glass. There was a small terrace with a fancy table and chairs set. “So, you like it?” Trent asked, stepping up beside me. His eyes were on the view as well, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “How could I not like it?” He chuckled. “You’re not like other girls,” he shrugged his wide shoulders. “I thought you might hate it.” “This view is incredible.” My eyes took in all the cars and people bustling below, trying to get somewhere. “It’s my favorite part about this place.” I looked over to find that he had his arms braced above his head, leaning against the glass. A month ago, I never would have thought I’d be standing here with Trenton, but now there was no place I’d rather be. For the first time since we’d entered, I took in the décor. I had been so distracted by the spectacular view of the city, that I’d been unable to appreciate the beauty inside. It wasn’t white and sterile looking like I had expected. There was a comfy looking sectional couch with heavy wooden tables and a leather ottoman. There were built-in wood shelves with tons of books covering the available surface. Of course, there was also a large TV. The floors were a dark hardwood, carrying into the kitchen that was surprisingly large with black cabinets and shiny white countertops. Everything was beautiful, but didn’t give off the vibe of ‘look but don’t touch’. Trent’s fingers brushed against my cheek, bringing me back to reality. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he breathed. “Me too,” I whispered, my eyes closing as his thumb grazed my bottom lip. It was hard for me to admit how good it felt to be here with him. Being with Trenton was effortless—as easy as breathing— and if I let myself, I’d never want to let him go. His lips brushed lightly against mine—the touch so soft I wasn’t sure it could even be considered a kiss. “I really want to show you my bedroom now.” His voice was husky with want and I found a quiet whimper escaping my throat as he pushed the collar of my sweatshirt over so he could kiss the bare skin of my shoulder. “I’d like to see it.” I sounded breathless, like I’d just run a mile, but it was simply the power Trent’s lips had over me. “Let me show you then.” He picked me up, carrying me like a groom would carry his bride. He pushed open the third door in the hallway and kicked it closed behind him. He laid me down on the soft surface of a massive bed. “I’ll show you around the room later,” he growled against the skin of my neck, “for now, I’d like to acquaint you with my bed.” His fingers found my hips and he slowly inched my sweatshirt up, exposing my stomach, and then my breasts hidden behind a plain black bra. I sat up and lifted my arms in the air so he could pull the garment off of me. “I could never get tired of looking at you, Rowan,” he confessed, his blue eyes filled with an emotion I refused to define. I swallowed thickly. “I—” I silenced his next words by grabbing him by the neck and kissing him. I knew what he was going to say and I couldn’t hear it. I wasn’t ready. I’d never be ready. He kissed me back, his large hands grasping me around my sides. One hand slid up the skin of my back and landed on the strap of my bra. With a flick of his fingers he had it unhooked and sliding down my arms. His eyes feasted on my naked breasts and I refused to be embarrassed. I slid away from him, propping back on my elbows and giving him a look. “Your turn.” He chuckled, the sound low and raspy, making my body fill with pleasure at the promise of what was to come. He hooked his thumbs in the back on his long sleeve shirt and yanked it over his head, musing his hair. My tongue flicked out to moisten my lips as I greedily eyed the sight of his defined chest and the dark smattering of hair that disappeared below the belt holding his jeans up. “Happy?” He asked. “Not quite,” I smiled seductively. I wasn’t as shy now in the sex department, and I wasn’t going to let

him completely be in control this time. “I can make you very happy,” his eyes narrowed, the blue turning to black with desire. “Then do it.” He grinned at the challenge in my tone. I squealed as he grabbed my hips, pulling me down the bed towards him. In a matter of seconds he had my jeans and panties off. His eyes lingered on my lower body and I counted to ten in my head, hoping that the gesture would keep me from blushing. “I’m going to touch you, Rowan, and kiss you, and you’re going to like it,” he growled low in his throat. I let out a small mewling sound as his fingers traced my folds. “Trent,” I whimpered. “Shhh,” he hushed. “The best is yet to come.” I gasped as his fingers plunged inside me. “Oh. My. God.” My eyes closed and my fists grasped the soft white bedspread. His free hand landed on my stomach, holding me down so my hips couldn’t buck. “Hold still,” he commanded, and something about his bossy tone only served to turn me on more. His fingers pumped into me as he kept his thumb pressed against my clit. Just when I was about to come, he moved his thumb, and—“Holy shit.” His tongue was on me and I had never felt anything like it. I whimpered as the pressure built in my body. His tongue flicked against me and I thought I might burst into tears it felt so good. His fingers continued to toy with me as he sucked and it wasn’t long before I found myself gasping as pleasure roared through my veins. He stood above me, grinning at what he had done to me. Then he held out his thumb. “Suck.” “Wh-what?” I gasped, my chest rising and falling sharply. “Suck,” he repeated, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. I finally understood what he wanted, and opened my mouth. He stuck his thumb in my mouth and my lips closed around it, my tongue swirling around. I tasted myself on him, and surprisingly, it didn’t gross me out. He pulled his thumb from my mouth, his eyes dark with desire. “Fuck,” he whispered. I sat up slowly, reaching for his jeans. “My turn.” I undid his belt and had his jeans off before he realized what I intended to do. “Whoa, you don’t need to do that,” he pushed gently at my shoulders, trying to stop me. “I know,” I smiled at him. “But I want to.” He swallowed thickly, his eyes closing briefly. “I’m serious. I don’t expect you to return the favor.” “I know,” I repeated as I stood and then knelt. I looked up at him, suddenly feeling shy. “You have to tell me if I do it wrong. I’ve never… I’ve never done this.” “Trust me, Row, I don’t think you could ever do anything wrong.” I hated it when he said things like that. Trenton put me up on a pedestal like I was this great person who never did anything wrong. He had no idea just how mistaken he was. I eyed his thick length, carefully hidden behind his black boxer briefs and swallowed thickly. I could do this. I wanted to do this. I pulled the fabric down and gasped as he sprang free. I had never been this close before, and he was just as beautiful here as he was everywhere else. I took him in my hand, stroking slowly. “Fuck, Row,” he groaned, throwing his head back, “you don’t have to do anything but that and I’ll be a happy man.” “I doubt that,” I smiled, then took him into my mouth. I felt uncomfortable at first with my lack of knowledge in situations like this. I swirled my tongue around the tip and then took him deeper into my mouth. He let out a growl, his fingers winding into my hair as he held it away from my face. I felt his eyes on me and it spurned me on. “You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now,” he murmured. My eyes flicked up to look at him watching me. “It feels so good,” he whispered, his eyes briefly closing as he swallowed thickly. It pleased me that I seemed to be doing it right. I stroked him and he threw his head back. “If you keep doing that with your hand and your mouth, I’m

not going to last long, and I really want to come inside you.” I pulled away and climbed onto the bed. I lay down, my hair spreading around me. “Then do it,” I repeated my words from earlier. His eyes roamed over my body like he was memorizing what I looked like. “With pleasure,” he grinned crookedly with a fire lighting his eyes. He grabbed a condom, rolled it on, then grabbed my hips again. He pulled me until my bottom was hanging off the bed and he was holding onto me. “You’re not coming up here?” I asked. He shook his head. “No, I think I’ll stay right here,” he winked. He thrust inside me and I gasped as he filled me. He slid out and back in quickly. Now I understood why he was standing. He rolled his hips against mine and I bit down on my lip to stifle the cry that threatened to escape me. “Harder,” I pleaded. “You want it rough?” One brow rose in disbelief. I nodded, trying not to whimper. “Well, then…” I couldn’t quiet my cries after that. His thrusts were quick and powerful, shaking the bed. The veins in his arms stood out and his fingers dug into my skin. “Trent!” I screamed his name as I came. I’m pretty sure I screamed some other things too, and maybe even in another language, because nothing I said made sense to my own ears. Trent growled and I felt him twitch inside me with his release. He collapsed on top of me, careful to hold his weight off of me. He pressed sweet kisses to my face, neck, and across the tops of my breasts. “That was fucking incredible,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face into the curve of my neck. I nodded in agreement. I had no words. “I promise I didn’t bring you here for sex,” he continued, “but I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was worth it.” He chuckled, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Rowan?” He paused. “Are you okay?” I nodded. “Can you… speak?” I nodded. “Rowan?” “Give me a minute,” I finally managed to force words from my lips. He laughed. “Was it that good?” Good was the understatement of the century. That had been… mind-blowing. “Can we do it again?” I asked, turning my head to look at him. I was breathing heavily and my body was covered in sweat, but I didn’t care. He laughed. “We most certainly can. Just give me another five minutes.” “You don’t need longer?” I questioned. He laughed. “With you? No. Trust me, it won’t be long until I’m ready again,” he wiggled his hips and I gasped, realizing he was still inside me. “Especially if I don’t move.” I wrapped my hands around his neck, lacing my fingers together. “Don’t move, then.” “Trust me, if you told me I never had to, I wouldn’t,” he said seriously, brushing my hair away from my eyes. “I want nothing more than to stay here with you forever.” “And by here, you mean inside me?” I joked. He laughed heartily. “I wouldn’t complain about that.” I glanced down at our joined bodies. “I think you’re ready,” I whispered. “How about that?” He chuckled. “I told you it wouldn’t take long. Now, lie back and let me love you.” And he did. Again. And again. And again.

My whole body was sore, but in the best way possible. I stretched my toes, pointing them down, then raised my arms above my head. Sunlight streamed into the bedroom from the floor to ceiling windows. Last night I’d been occupied by more important things and hadn’t noticed any details about the room. It was painted a medium gray color and all the furniture was black. The bedding was white and fluffy. It was so soft that I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about returning to my own sheets. “That makes your breasts look more amazing than usual.” I startled, lowering my arms, as I looked over to see Trent standing in the doorway. A pair of navy sweatpants hung loosely off his lean hips and his hair stuck up wildly around his head from sex and sleep. He held two cups of coffee in his hands. He padded across the room and climbed into the high bed. “Here,” he handed me the coffee. I took a sip, unable to contain my moan. “This is delicious.” “It’s caramel,” he winked. He leaned back against the mountain of pillows, looking out the windows. His gaze was thoughtful and I knew he was contemplating something. “Whatever it is, just spit it out,” I told him. He laughed, ducking his head. “Am I that predictable?” He smiled and his dimple showed. “I know you,” I shrugged. “You don’t have to be predictable for me to pick up on your body language. Now, out with it.” I blew on the hot coffee, eyeing him over the rim. “Can I take your picture?” He asked. I laughed. “Trenton, I’m pretty sure you’ve already taken my picture plenty of times.” “No, not like this,” he shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “Not like what…?” “You, naked, in my bed,” he bit his lip. “And then I want to take your picture while I make love to you.” I shivered at his tone. “You can say no, if you don’t want me to,” he assured me, “but I’d really like to.” “I…” I drew my knees up to my chest, contemplating. Finally, I met his unwavering gaze. “Okay.” “Okay?” He repeated, smiling slowly like he was afraid at any second I’d scream that I was only kidding. I nodded. “It’s okay with me.” He set his coffee cup on the table and then reached for mine. “You want to start now?” I asked, reluctantly handing over the cup. He nodded with a small grin. “I thought I better get started before you change your mind.” “I won’t.”

“I don’t care,” he laughed, picking up his camera. I realized that our suitcases were now in the bedroom. Someone must have dropped them off last night and he’d brought them in this morning. He aimed the camera and started taking pictures. “Lay down,” he said huskily. I did as he asked. Before taking another picture, he reached down and spread my hair around, then lifted one of my arms above my head. “Don’t move,” he warned me like one would a child. My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I was sure he could see its thumps. “These are beautiful,” he whispered, looking down at the screen of his camera. He posed me in a different position and snapped my picture again. He continued that way for a good thirty minutes. “Now,” he lowered, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and then releasing it, “I’m going to make love to you.” He held tight to the camera and kicked off his sweatpants. He was hard and completely ready for me. He slid a condom on and climbed on the bed. His fingers found me and when he felt that I was wet, he grinned. “I’m glad that turned you on as much as it did me.” “How could it not?” I breathed. “Good point.” He kissed me, as he took ahold of his length and slowly slid it inside me just a bit. I squirmed, letting out a small shriek from the soreness left over from yesterday. “Are you okay?” His brow creased with worry. “Do I need to stop? You know I will,” he assured me. “Just go slow,” I warned him. “I-I’m sore down there.” “Trust me,” he kissed me deeply, making my head spin, “this is going to be slow, and you’re going to love every second of it.” My heart sped up even further at his promising tone. He inched inside me ever so slowly, and when he was all the way in he stopped, taking a picture. I’d completely forgotten about the camera, but seeing it in his hand as he was braced above me made me excited. “You can move,” I whispered. “Not yet.” He took another picture. He slowly inched back out, taking my picture again as my mouth fell open in an O. He rocked his hips in and out at a leisurely pace that somehow managed to drive me crazier than what we’d done last night. I also found that there was something extremely erotic about having him above me, taking my picture as he made love to me. I couldn’t hide my emotions. They were plain for him and the camera to see. I was baring my soul to him, and I hoped he knew that, and understood the gift I was giving him. I was letting him see me. Sweat dampened my body as I edged closer and closer to that cliff I was desperate to fall off of. “Come for me,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me see you.” He drove into me with shallow thrusts and I clawed at the blankets as I felt my orgasm begin to take over. All the while, he took my picture. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful and you don’t even know it,” he growled. I wished I believed him. I had never been a person concerned about my outward appearance, but I knew on the inside that I was ugly… scarred… disfigured. I was diseased. Poison, known as lies, ran through my veins, suffocating me. “Rowan?” He questioned, noticing the look of disgust on my face. “What’s wrong?” His movements stilled as he gazed down at me questioningly. “What did I do? What’d I say?” “It’s nothing,” my voice cracked. “Row,” he cupped my cheek in his hand. “Did I hurt you? Is it the pictures? You have to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” His eyes pleaded with me to speak, to tell him what was going on in my head, but it was so hard. “You didn’t hurt me,” I assured him. “But I’m not beautiful, Trent.” “Yes, you are,” he said sternly. I shook my head. “I’m not talking about what I look like,” I spoke fiercely. “I’m talking about what’s in here,” I placed a hand over my heart. “If you knew who I was, what I had done,” I croaked, “you’d know I wasn’t beautiful.” “Don’t say such horrible things about yourself,” he whispered, tracing his fingers over his lips. “I don’t know who has planted these lies in your head,” he tapped my forehead, “but they’re wrong.”

“No one had to tell me anything,” I whispered with a frown. “I can see my own darkness.” “Row…” I knew he didn’t know what to say to me, and that was perfectly okay. I didn’t need to hear him try to convince me that I was good. He didn’t know what I had done, so in his eyes I was good. Eventually, I’d have to tell him—he deserved to know—and then he’d see how bad I was. I couldn’t hide the evil residing in my heart forever. I pushed his shoulders, rolling him onto his back, so that I was on top. “Take your pictures.” I took his chin in my hands, pressing my lips to his, sealing us together. Because soon, those pictures will be all you’ll have left of me.

“And this is Times Square,” Trenton said, like as if I hadn’t already figured that out. I twirled around, my jaw hanging open in awe. The lights, the sounds, the people… none of it was like home. It was easy for me to believe that Trent and I were in a whole new world. One where only the two of us existed. Somebody bumped into me, propelling me into Trent. He wrapped his arms around me to keep me from falling on the sidewalk. “Well, that was rude,” I glared at the retreating back of the man that had pushed me. “That’s New York City,” Trent laughed. “Get used to it.” He didn’t release me, if anything he tightened his hold. The air was cold and there was a slight wind. I was thankful for my heavy black coat, yellow scarf, and hat. Trent was dressed similarly, only his scarf and hat were red. “Let’s get a picture,” he pleaded with me. At this point, I was used to Trenton and his pictures, so I obliged. He positioned me in front of the jumbotron and stood beside me. He held his arm out with the camera. “Smile,” he warned me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave the camera the biggest, cheesiest smile I could muster. Then I kissed his cheek. In the last photo he took, he kissed me squarely on the mouth, his tongue finding its way past my lips. I took his face in my hands, the scruff on his cheeks rubbing against the soft cotton of my mittens. He nipped my bottom lip and I couldn’t help but giggle. He kissed the end of my nose, his breathing unsteady. “I know I wanted to show you the city, but I’m beginning to think leaving the penthouse was a really bad idea.” “How about this,” I grasped the collar of his coat, “take me to see the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, then we can go back there and take a really long shower… together.” “That’s a really good idea,” he grinned. “I wish I would’ve thought of it.” “Come on,” I took his hand. “The sooner we get a taxi, the sooner we see the tree, and the sooner we see the tree…” I trailed off, letting him finish my thought. “The sooner I can have you wet and pinned against the shower wall,” he winked. “I do love showers.” “And cameras,” I muttered. He laughed. “Pictures are worth a thousand words, but those… something tells me they’re worth a million.” A taxi finally stopped and I slid inside. Trent told the man where we wanted to go and I stifled my cough. The taxi reeked of cigarette smoke. I crinkled my nose in displeasure at the nasty smell. I’d never understood the appeal to smoking. I mean, who wants to suck on a death stick? Obviously our cab driver. He dropped us off and Trent handed him cash. “Thanks,” Trent called and the cabby simply grunted in response. “Such a lovely fellow,” I joked. “I think he wants to be your new best friend.” Trent’s arm wound around my waist. “Hardly.” The crowd around the tree was thick, but not as bad as Times Square had been. I didn’t think we’d be able to get very close to the tree, but I was okay with that. It was lit up with multi colored lights and the ornaments were huge. I wondered just how tall the thing was. I had to crane my neck back to see the top of it. “Excuse me,” Trent said, stopping a man passing by. “Would you mind getting a picture of me and my

girlfriend?” My heart stilled. Girlfriend. Trent had called me his girlfriend. We had never defined what we were, but obviously Trent had his own idea, and I liked the sound of him calling me his ‘girlfriend’ a bit too much. I should’ve told him I wasn’t okay with him calling me that, but it would’ve been a lie. I did want to be his girlfriend. In fact, I wanted to be even more than that. But I knew it would never last, so I didn’t see the point in defining what we were to each other. The guy seemed pissed that Trent had stopped him, but agreed. Trent handed him the camera and brought me close against his side. The guy held the camera up and I smiled. “Thanks,” Trent nodded, taking the camera from him. Without a word the man left. “Can I see it?” I asked, pointing at the camera. Trent nodded, handing it over. On the screen was the picture with the tree sparkling behind us. I smiled at the camera, but Trent was smiling down at me like… like I was his whole world. It was a beautiful picture, one that I wished I could imprint in my mind so I could look back on it years from now and remember how he’d felt. I handed the camera back, swallowing down the sudden lump that had taken up residence in my throat. “Are you ready to go?” Trent asked. “Or do you want to stay a little while longer?” We’d already been gone from the penthouse for a while, I was chilled, and while the tree was pretty I didn’t see the sense in staring at it any longer. “I’m ready to head back,” I answered, wiggling my chilled fingers. The black mittens did little to warm them, so I shoved them in the depths of my coat’s pockets. Trent hailed cab and we headed back to the penthouse. He dropped us off at the front of the building and we entered that way. I hadn’t seen the lobby area yet, and I was stunned. Everything was so shiny and expensive looking. I didn’t want to know how much their penthouse must cost. “You’ve got a little drool there,” Trent joked, wiping my lip for affect. “This place is so amazing,” I gasped, turning around and around to take in everything. “I like it here,” Trent shrugged. “The city vibe has always suited me, but I’d have a hard time leaving home. It’s nice to have this place to get away to, though.” “How many other places do you have like this?” I questioned as we waited for an elevator. “A few,” he answered vaguely. “Something tells me it’s more than a few,” I laughed, stepping into the elevator. He pulled out the key again, inserting it in the slot and twisting. “So maybe it is more than a few,” he shrugged casually. “I can’t tell you what they are, because I have to have something to keep you interested.” “You know I don’t care about your money, Trent,” I said seriously, “or how many cars and houses you own. None of that matters to me.” “I know,” he cupped my cheek, lowering his mouth to mine. “It’s one of the reasons why I—” The elevator doors opened into the penthouse and I grabbed his hand, pulling him after me. “About that shower?” I smiled seductively, and what he had been about to say was forgotten.

There was a library in the penthouse. Every wall was covered with shelves filled with books of every genre. On one wall there was a window with a built-in bench seat covered in a fluffy white cushion and pillows. I had grabbed a blanket from the family room and I draped it over my legs as I looked out the window, brushing the wet strands of my hair. Trent was making us dinner. I’d offered to help, but he’d declined, telling me to relax. Since I hadn’t gotten much of a tour yesterday, I had taken it upon myself to look around the penthouse. When I’d come across this room, I’d been delighted. I’d always found comfort in a library. It made me sad to know I wasn’t going to be working at the library anymore. I probably wouldn’t be welcome there to study either. It looked like I’d be stuck studying at the University’s library. I’d have

to come up with something creative to tell Tatum as to why I was fired. She was my friend, but I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to tell her the truth. Luckily, I’d gotten a few days of work in at Trace’s car shop before Trent and I left. It certainly wasn’t the library, but it was nice. He was easy to work for and he paid well, so I had nothing to complain about. The guys that worked for him in the shop could get a little rowdy, but he was quick to shut them down and order them back to work. For being so young, Trace was handling being a business owner very well. I tapped my fingers on top of my knees and laid the hairbrush aside, letting the long damp strands hang down my back. I was overcome by a sudden sadness, knowing that in a matter of days we’d have to return home and this bubble surrounding me would burst. Being here alone with Trent made it all too easy for me to hope for a future with him—a future that I knew could never be. I vowed that when we got back home I’d end things. I’d walk away before it got messy. When he dropped me off, I’d lie and tell him that this week with him had shown me that my interest wasn’t there. I’d lie, because it was easier. They always say the truth can set you free. In my case, the truth was my prison. One day, when I was older and wiser, I would find him and explain to him why we would’ve never worked out. It wasn’t that day yet though, and for now, I’d enjoy myself. A patter on the open library door had me looking up. Trent stood in the doorway, his dark hair had dried from our shower and he was shirtless, just those same low hanging sweatpants on his hips. “Why am I not surprised to find you here?” He grinned crookedly, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door. “I like this room,” I forced a smile, wrapping my arms around my knees. “It’s… peaceful. I find it so easy to seek comfort in books,” I murmured, looking around at the packed shelves, “the books… they can’t hurt me, not the way people can.” Trent frowned at my words. “Rowan,” he whispered my name as he took a step into the room, “I know there’s a lot you’re not telling me.” He crouched in front of me, looking into my eyes. “I understand what it’s like not to want to talk about certain things, so I’ve respected your space, but I want you to know that I’m here anytime you need to talk to someone.” “I know.” There was so much that I did want to tell Trent, but I knew once I opened up I’d have to tell him everything, and I couldn’t tell him all my dirty secrets yet. “Dinner’s ready,” he said, and I was thankful for the change of subject. I knew Trent was curious about the demons that haunted me, but he respected me enough not to force my secrets out of me. That right there showed me how much he cared for me—more than I wanted to believe he did. “I’m not very hungry,” I muttered, laying my head on my knees. “You need to eat,” he looked at me with worried eyes. “Are you getting sick?” No, not unless you could grow sick from lies. “I feel fine,” I assured him. “Just tired.” He frowned. “That’s my fault. I’m sorry.” He stood, holding out a hand for me. “Eat some dinner and go to bed. Please?” I nodded, placing my hand in his outstretched palm. There was no reason to argue with him. He grabbed the blanket, draping it over his arm. Out in the open living and kitchen area I saw that he had dimmed the lights and set the table. He’d even lit candles. It was beautiful. He didn’t take me to the table though. He guided me to the couch and told me to sit. He draped the blanket over my lower half and pushed a button on a remote, which ignited a roaring fire. I hadn’t noticed the fireplace yesterday. It made the room seem cozy. He pushed another button, which closed the large blackout curtains. He blew out the candles and brought our plates of food and glasses of wine to the couch. He raised his glass for a toast, so I mimicked. “To us,” he smiled. “To us,” I echoed. To our demise, I thought.

“Trent, where are you taking me?” I groaned as he held onto my hand, running down the street. He grabbed a door, pulling me into a fancy upscale store. “Shopping,” he grinned like a small boy, a little bit of his excitement rubbing off on me. My mouth fell open as I got a look at the clothes. “No,” I wrenched my hand from Trenton’s. “This place is too expensive, I don’t even want to look at anything for fun.” “Rowan,” Trent said my name in a calming tone, “I want to buy you a dress.” “A dress? Why do you want to buy me a dress?” I asked, my eyes shifting around me, taking in all the people dressed in fancy clothes. I didn’t belong here in my leggings and gray sweater. I looked like a hobo, and Trent wanted to buy me a dress? Was he crazy? “Remember the New Year’s Eve party I mentioned?” When I nodded, he continued, “Well, it’s formal, so you need a dress.” “I have a dress,” I mumbled, even though I so didn’t have a formal gown. I hadn’t even gone to prom. “Rowan,” he warned, “I’m buying you a dress, a new dress, and you’re not going to say anything about it.” “You’re so bossy,” I grumbled. “It’s the only way I can get anything done with you,” he chuckled. “Now, please don’t make this difficult.” I frowned. I didn’t want Trent spending his money on me, but I knew that determined glint in his eye all too well, and there was no way I was getting out of this. “Fine,” I reluctantly agreed. He grinned, pleased to have gotten his way. He didn’t take my hand, probably scared I’d slap it away, and nodded for me to follow him. It was obvious Trent had been here many times before. He led me to the ladies section, or did they call it something else in fancy stores like this? A woman greeted him and they shook hands. “Row, this is Sherri. Sherri, this is my girlfriend, Rowan, and she needs a dress for a party.” Sherri shook my hand, her eyes starting at my feet and roaming up my body as she sized me up. “Hmm,” she grunted. I took it she didn’t think I was good enough for Trenton. That made two of us. “What kind of party?” She asked Trent. Her voice was oddly nasal sounding, like she had a cold. “A New Year’s Eve party. My family has one every year and it’s very formal.” Sherri tapped her chin in thought. She was a petite woman with fiery red hair that was in no way natural and aqua colored glasses. Her lips were plump and shimmered with a cherry red gloss. Her clothes were nice and probably cost more than what I paid for rent in six months, and she worked here. “I think I have some things that might work.” It didn’t escape my notice that she addressed Trent, not me, like I was nothing. She turned briskly on her heel, flicking her hand over her shoulder for us to follow. “I don’t think she likes me,” I muttered under my breath to Trent. “I’m not sure she likes anyone,” he replied with a shrug. “She likes you!” I exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “I can’t help it that I’m so charming,” he winked, his eyes scanning the racks of clothing warily. “I know this was my idea, but I hope this doesn’t take long. Shopping is not my thing.” “It’s not my thing either,” I assured him. “Wait here,” Sherri pointed to a fancy couch that was covered in amethyst colored velvet. Trent and I took a seat while she went to pull some dresses. I looked up, noticing an intricate crystal chandelier hanging above us. I wasn’t sure what store he’d dragged me into, and looking around at all the fancy finishing’s and clothing, I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know. My stomach was already churning at the thought of what this dress would cost, and I’d have to let him buy it. I certainly wasn’t spending the money in my savings account on a dress —that money was going to be used to get me and the kids away from my mom and step-dad. Sherri returned with a rack of dresses. They were all in different styles and lengths, but most were shiny. She crooked a finger at me and I stood to inspect the dresses she had pulled.

“Do you see any you like?” She asked, her voice full of false sweetness. Someone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. I reached for a long black evening dress that was strapless. It had jeweled detailing on the top and the bottom was plain. “I like this one,” I said. “Alright then, try it on,” she led me down a hall and opened a door into a dressing room. She closed the door so she was left in the small room with me. “Uh…” I eyed her warily. “I don’t need any help. I’m fine on my own.” “Okay,” she nodded, leaving me to myself. I stripped out of my clothes and shimmied into the black dress. Once it was on I decided I didn’t like it as much as I had on the hanger, but I knew Trent would want to see. So, I forced myself to leave behind the comfort of the dressing room and venture out to the waiting area. Trent sat up straighter when he saw me. “I don’t like it,” I declared quickly, “but I knew you’d want to see.” I turned, brushing my hair over my shoulder so he could see the dress at all angles. “It’s pretty, but not you,” he commented. “Try this one,” Sherri pulled a dress off the rack and handed it to me. She didn’t even look at it, maybe she knew what she’d pulled that well, or maybe she didn’t care to help me. Regardless, I really didn’t like the woman. I held the new dress in one hand, and lifted the hem of the one I was wearing in the other. I didn’t like this dress either. It was skin tight and silver. It wasn’t me at all. When I showed Trent he was quick to shake his head in disapproval. I skimmed through the dresses Sherri had chosen, lingering on a short champagne colored dress. It was covered in sequins, which wouldn’t normally be something I’d like, but it worked. I also liked that the neck came up higher and it had three-quarter sleeves, so despite the short length I wouldn’t feel like I was naked. I took the dress back with me and as soon as I looked at my reflection I knew I had found the one. It was tight, but not glued to me like the other dress had been, and I felt comfortable in it, not like a little girl playing dress up. When Trent saw, he sat back, a grin lighting his face. “That’s the one.” “I love it,” I said, unable to keep the slightly giddy tone from my voice. Trent stood, his hands falling to my waist. “It’s perfect.” I smiled, pleased that he liked it as much as I did. “We’ll take it,” he told Sherri, not even bothering to look in her direction. “While you’re at it, get her some shoes to match.” Sherri asked me what size I wore and I told her. “I’ll change and then we can get out of here,” I said to Trent. “I’m ready for lunch.” I don’t know if it was the fact that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, or what, but I was hungry all the time. I closed the dressing room door behind me and reached around to undo the zipper. It started to fall off my shoulders and I gasped when I looked into the mirror and found Trenton standing behind me. “Trent, what are you doing?” He didn’t use words to answer me. He picked me up and my legs automatically wound around his lean waist. He backed me against the wall, using it to support me as his lips ravished mine. “You look fucking gorgeous in this dress and I wanted to be the one to get you out of it,” he growled against my lips. He sucked on my neck and a gasp escaped me. “Trent,” I breathed, pushing against his shoulders, “we can’t do this here.” “Yes, we can,” he kissed his way over my collarbone and to the other side of my neck, “but you’ll have to be really quiet.” “What if someone finds us?” I protested. “So what?” He countered, covering my lips with his and effectively cutting off any further protests. He undid his belt buckle and pushed his jeans down, careful to hold me up. “This is going to be hard and fast,” he warned. “Are you okay with this?” He cupped my cheek tenderly in his hand. I knew if I told him to stop, that this wasn’t okay, he would, but I didn’t say that. I nodded, giving him permission, unable to ignore the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I knew we could get caught at any moment, but that only added to the excitement.

“Hold on tight,” he chuckled, pushing the dress up and ripping off my panties. Like, he literally ripped them off. I didn’t know guys did that in real life. It was kind of hot. Once he had fixed a condom on, he was inside me in one smooth hard stroke and I gasped. I reached up, covering my mouth with my hand to stifle any sounds I made. He hadn’t been kidding when he warned that this was going to be hard and fast. I kept one hand over my mouth, and clung to him with the other. Knowing that we could be caught at any moment had my excitement building. I held my breath as my orgasm grew closer, it was so hard not to make any sounds, but there was something intoxicating about it too. Trent’s gaze found mine and I knew he was close too. Looking into his eyes, I let myself fall off the edge, knowing he’d be there to catch me. He came too, his fingers digging into my hips to keep me from falling. Slowly, he brought his head up, kissing me deeply, and braced one hand beside my head. “You’re the only one I want,” he whispered, nibbling on my chin. My eyes closed as I swallowed thickly. And the only one you can never have.

Kisses were tenderly pressed against the skin of my neck, down over my breasts, and then a hand eased my shirt up and even more kisses were pressed against my stomach. “Trenton,” I groaned, trying to roll away, clinging to the soft pillows. I had been sleeping so well and I didn’t want to wake up, even with such sweet kisses. “I’m tired.” He pinched my waist and pulled my body back over to the edge of the bed. “We need to go,” he whispered in my ear. “We’re going to miss our flight.” Flight. Shit. I’d completely forgotten we were heading home today. My heart stopped in my chest for a second before resuming its beat at a frantic pace. If we were going home, that meant tonight was the New Year’s Eve party, and tomorrow I’d have to tell him that this was over between us. I couldn’t keep doing do this to him—to myself—the longer we were together, the more it created a false hope for a future we could never have. I suddenly never wanted to leave New York, because as long as we stayed, I could pretend the outside world no longer existed. “I don’t want to go home,” I mumbled, burying my face in the pillow. I didn’t see how I could force myself out of this bed to get ready and have to act normal. I had less than twenty-four hours with him, and I knew I needed to make every moment count, but I wasn’t sure I could do it. It would be easier to resort to how I had always been in the past when things bothered me. Withdrawn. Emotionless. Broken. I took a deep breath and rolled onto my back, cracking my eyes open. Trent was smiling above me. “We have an hour to get packed and to the airport.” An hour was plenty of time for me. I wasn’t one of those girls who had to do her hair and pile on gobs of makeup. I didn’t care what I looked like. Trenton headed out of the room and I was left alone. I forced myself to stand, reluctant to leave behind the comfy bed, and I hated to shed the borrowed t-shirt of Trent’s that I was wearing. I yawned, stretching my arms above my head. This had been the greatest week of my life, but also the worst. This had given me a taste at what life with Trent would be like, and I liked it a bit too much. Being with him was so easy. He was well aware of my flaws and he could see past them. He brought out the best in me, something no one else had ever been able to do. Without him in my life, I’d become a drone, simply going through the motions on a daily basis—just like I had done before he came back into my life for a second time. I padded into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and hair, and packing things into my toiletry bag. I pulled my hair into a bun on top of my head and secured it with a hair tie. I took a quick shower, washing my body with the sugar scented body wash.

I dropped the shirt of Trent’s that I’d been wearing on top of his bag. I dressed casually for the plane ride in leggings and sweater. I slipped my feet into a pair of flats and checked the bedroom to make sure I’d packed everything before zipping the suitcase closed. Since Trenton hadn’t returned I took the time to pack his bag too and wheeled them both out to the foyer. Trent was in the kitchen making us breakfast. I smiled, taking a seat at one of the barstools. “You know,” I smiled, taking a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice from the glass he’d had waiting, “a girl could get used to this.” “Well,” he smiled, handing me a plate with scrambled eggs and toast, “if I had my way, you would.” Guilt threatened to suffocate me. Here I was, smiling and joking with him about a future I was well aware I was about to extinguish. After that thought hit me, I found it nearly impossible to eat my breakfast. “Hey,” Trent bumped my shoulder with his, “are you okay?” I felt like he was always asking me if I was okay, and I almost never was. “Just tired,” I replied, using my fork to push the scrambled eggs around the plate. “I guess that’s my fault,” he winked, taking a bite of toast. Besides the near constant sex, Trent had shown me different places around the city nearly every day. He was familiar with the city, so he didn’t waste much time on the touristy things, instead showing me the heart. He’d also taken me to one or two different restaurants every day. I was sure I had probably gained ten pounds in the last week, but I didn’t care. I had enjoyed myself too much to regret even a single moment. Trent finished eating, and when he saw that I wasn’t going to force anymore down my throat he cleaned my plate as well. “I want to warn you,” he said, his words instantly making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, “that this party can be a bit… stuffy… if you know what I mean. Just stick with me, okay?” I nodded, too relieved to know his warning had been about the party and not anything else. “Trace and Olivia will be there with Dean, so of course you know them,” he shrugged, bracing his hands on the counters. I couldn’t keep my eyes from the way the muscles in his arms flexed with the motion. “But if it gets to be too much, you can tell me, Row.” Row. I loved it when he called me by my nickname, treasuring the way it sounded leaving his lips. “I know,” I answered, sliding from the barstool. I don’t know what made me do it, but I found myself wrapping my arms around his middle and hugging him. He seemed shocked at first but his arms eventually wound around me as well. I felt his lips press tenderly against the top of my head. He grasped my arms so I couldn’t pull away, and looked down at me, studying my face like he was searching for something. Finally, he said, “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.” There was everything that I wasn’t telling him. “You must be imagining things,” I laughed, schooling my features into a mask that even he couldn’t see through. I hated lying to him, I really did, but I didn’t have a choice. One day, I hoped he’d see that. Trent nodded, and it was obvious he didn’t believe me, but he wanted to. He looked at the shiny silver watch adorning his wrist and muttered, “We have to leave or we’ll miss our flight.” “Can you actually miss a flight when you own the plane?” I joked, hoping to distract him. “Good point,” he chuckled, heading for the foyer, and running his hands nervously through his dark hair. “We’ll simply be delayed then.” He wheeled our suitcases into the elevator and I looked around the penthouse one last time. I wouldn’t be returning, I knew that, and I wanted to take this moment to remember everything. “Row, come on,” Trent called, his arm keeping the elevator door from sliding closed. I took a deep breath and stepped in beside him. The doors closed and I was overcome by sadness as the penthouse disappeared from my sight. I had created some really great memories in that place—memories that would last a lifetime. When the doors opened, the lower garage appeared, and the same car and driver that had dropped us off waited. The driver opened the car door for us and then deposited our suitcases in the trunk. I leaned my head against the leather seat, wishing I didn’t feel everything. I wasn’t talking about physical touch. No, I

was referring to the emotions I felt at the moment. I had so many emotions rolling through my body that I felt dizzy. It seemed impossible to feel so happy, sad, angry, and a billion other things all at one time. “Are you getting sick?” Trenton asked and I turned to look at him. I knew I needed to get my act together or he wouldn’t leave this alone. “Like I said, I’m just tired.” I rested my head against the cold glass window as the driver pulled out of the garage and into the busy traffic. Trent and I didn’t speak on the way to the airport. I pretended to be sleeping and he read something on his phone. The flight back was almost as quiet. I knew I should make use of every moment I had left with him, but it would only remind me further that our end was near. Once midnight struck, and the New Year began, I’d have to say goodbye. Damn. I really was like Cinderella. Only, instead of two wicked stepsisters, I had the kindest, sweetest, kids waiting for me back home. They’d hold me together through my grief, they wouldn’t understand what had upset me, but they’d be there to offer their quiet comfort. When we got off the plane one of the crewmembers loaded our bags into Trent’s car. I couldn’t quite get used to the fact that Trent had other people to do such simple tasks. I felt like I should help the man with my suitcase, but I knew that would only offend him, and I didn’t want that. “Something’s wrong with you,” Trent stated once we were driving home. His jaw was stiff and his knuckles had turned white where he gripped the steering wheel. I opened my mouth to assure him that I was fine, but he spoke over me. “Don’t you fucking dare say you’re okay,” he reached up, adjusting his sunglasses. “I know you, and you can’t lie to me. You’re hiding something from me. I wish you could see that you can trust me. I’d never betray you, Row, never,” he beat his fist against the steering wheel. “I can feel you pulling away from me again, and I fought so hard to get you back. Don’t fucking do this to me again,” he pleaded. I didn’t know what to say as he ranted. I didn’t think there was anything I could say. If I opened my mouth, only lies would spill out, and there was already an ocean of them between us. “I know you don’t want me to say it, Rowan, but I love you. Do you hear me?” He glanced at me. “I love you! I love you! I. Love. You. Whatever is going on with you, you can tell me and we’ll work through it together. Nothing could ever change my feelings for you.” I swallowed thickly, choking on the sudden lump that had lodged itself in my throat. “I know you think that now, but there are some truths about me that you don’t want know.” Tears filled my eyes, but they didn’t spill over. Trent’s mouth fell open in shock as he noted the shimmering in my eyes. He knew me well enough to know that I never cried, and rarely came even close to it. “I want to know everything about you, damn it!” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “The good, the bad, everything. None of it will change how I feel about you.” “That’s where you’re wrong,” I whispered, looking down at my shaking hands. He thrust his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in uncontrollable directions. “Just tell me. Whatever it is, just tell me,” he pleaded with me, but it was to no avail. “I can’t!” I screamed. “Do you understand what I’m saying? I can’t! I didn’t say I won’t, I said I can’t,” my voice lowered to a softer tone, but my breathing was accelerated, my loud breaths currently the only sound in the car. “What…” He paused. “What does that mean?” “It means,” I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at the side of his face as he drove, “that I was a naïve child and I put my trust in the wrong fucking person,” I growled, and he stiffened at my use of foul language. I wasn’t one to cuss, at least out loud, and I never spoke this passionately. “I signed my fucking life away, Trenton!” My lower lip trembled with the threat of tears, tears I had refused to cry for five years. “I gave up everything for no reason! I’m legally bound to my silence! I gave up my entire life for nothing!” My breath was coming out in short shallow gasps. “Pull over,” I gripped the door handle tightly in my fist. “Pull over!” He did, watching me with shock on his face as I broke down. As soon as the car was stopped I was out, pacing the side of the busy road. I couldn’t believe I’d told him all of that. I should’ve never opened my mouth.

Oh. My. God. I sunk to my knees, gravel digging into the thin cotton of my leggings, and let my head fall forward into my hands. None of my tears fell, even though I willed them too. I clutched my stomach, letting my head fall forward as a scream tore through my throat. I couldn’t do this. This lie was suffocating me. It was going to kill me. And I was going to let it, because I had no choice. Everybody thinks they have a choice in life. Not me. All my choices were taken from me at sixteen years old. I wished I had been strong enough to stop it, to stand up for myself, but I hadn’t. The one person I should’ve been able to trust, took my powers and my choices away from me. I wished I had done things differently, but I hadn’t, and now I’d have to spend my whole life suffering for one wrong decision. “Rowan?” “Leave me alone!” I screamed at him. “Just leave me alone!” A part of me wanted to stand up and run into his arms, to let him comfort me, but he was the last person I deserved comfort from. I leaned my head back, looking up at the blue sky, wishing I could disappear into the clouds so I didn’t have to deal with this pain. “Rowan,” he said my name softly, placing his hand on my shoulder, “please get back in the car.” “I can’t,” my voice cracked. I don’t deserve to. I don’t deserve you . “Yes, you can.” He was so calm with me. There was no anger in his tone, only concern. If he knew what I had done he wouldn’t be talking so sweetly to me. He’d leave me here to let my sins eat me alive. “Please, come back to the car,” he pleaded, like he was talking to someone who was about to jump off a building to their death. I inhaled the cold air, letting it sear my lungs. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. “Okay.”

I refused to look at Trenton or even speak to him as we drove to his family’s home. When he asked if I wanted to go home and skip the party, I shook my head no. It was selfish of me, but I wanted this last night with him. I would need it to carry me through the rest of my lonely existence. My fingers twisted together as he turned down the unmarked road that led to his family’s mansion. “Rowan?” He said my name hesitantly, like he was afraid I’d start yelling again. I had news for him, I was too tired to scream and yell. My breakdown had drained me of energy. I nodded, letting him know he could continue with what he had to say. “Whatever happened to you, we can fix it,” he whispered, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “There is no fixing this.” I stared straight ahead, biting down on my tongue. “This isn’t something that can just be undone, Trenton.” “I don’t know that though!” He raised his voice. “You refuse to tell me what it is, so I have no way of knowing what I can do!” The trees disappeared and I saw the mansion up ahead, its large lawn covered in snow, but the driveway clear. “Let it go, Trenton,” I warned. “I mean it.” He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pushed a button and pulled his car into the garage. “How do you ever expect us to have a lasting relationship if you’re keeping secrets?” I don’t. I didn’t say anything. I simply opened the car door and got out. I wrapped my arms protectively

around my chest. Trent got out too, slamming the car door closed. He crossed his arms and rested them on the hood of the car. He watched me carefully, not saying a word. With a sigh, he shook his head, looking away from me. He grabbed our suitcases and wheeled them to the door. “Come on,” he flicked his hand for me to follow. I could feel him pulling away, and it hurt. I knew it was for the best. I was already planning to end things. But the last thing I wanted was for Trenton to hate me. I guessed I was delusional, because of course he’d hate me. “Hey mom!” He called out and I stilled. I hadn’t seen Lily Wentworth since I was a teenager. “Trenton,” she smiled at her son. She was beautiful with long dark hair and pixie features. “Hello, Rowan,” she greeted me brightly, and surprised me by opening her arms for a hug. “Did you enjoy New York?” She asked me. I nodded. “It was lovely.” Why the heck did I sound so formal? It must have been the mansion giving me the impression that I needed to be more proper. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she smiled, stepping away. “Well, I have a lot to do before the party, so I’ll leave you two alone.” Her heels clicked on the shiny floors as she disappeared down one of the many halls in the mansion. Seriously, how did nobody get lost here? Or maybe they did… and they were never heard from again. Trent picked up our suitcases up and started up the steps. I knew the luggage had to be heavy, but he acted as if they weighed nothing. “Do you want to get ready in a guestroom, or my room?” He asked, walking ahead of me. “Your room is fine,” I shrugged, looking around. “I mean, after this past week, I don’t think either of us have anything to be shy about.” He chuckled and the sound of it relieved me. “I guess you’re right about that.” He bumped his shoulder against a door, and muttered, “This is my room.” The only time I had been here before, I hadn’t seen his bedroom. The walls were red, a stark contrast to the yellow walls in his bedroom at the townhouse, but I knew this was his favorite color. The bedspread was a charcoal gray and all the furniture was black. Posters for different bands plastered the walls. It definitely suited the teenage Trenton that I remembered. “So…” He sat down on the end of his bed, making it bounce, “this is home.” “I like it,” I smiled. He shrugged, looking around the large room. “It’s okay. I prefer my place, this room seems like it’s stuck in a time capsule, but it’s nice to still have a place at home,” he chuckled. “It makes me feel like that no matter what happens, I’ll always have this place.” “I’m sure you will,” I glanced around, noting a bookcase in the corner, there was a picture sitting there and something about it drew me closer. I reached out, wrapping my hand around the frame. I gasped as I recognized the people in the photo. It was Trent and I on our school trip, the one where we lost our virginity. We were both sitting on a log. I was smiling and he was laughing at something I had said. It was raw and beautiful, and completely unexpected. I studied my face, the happiness shining there. That day was the last day I had felt true happiness. “I can’t believe you have this,” I gasped. “Who took it?” “One of the teachers,” he stepped up behind me, his body almost touching mine. “Mr. Jones, I think. He gave it to me, he thought I’d like to have it.” “And you’ve kept it for this long…” I breathed. “Trent…” I placed a shaking hand to my mouth. He took the picture frame from my hand and replaced it on the shelf. “Of course I kept it. Just because you stopped speaking to me doesn’t mean I stopped having feelings for you. Emotions aren’t something you can turn on and off, Row. Although, I wished many times that I could.” I closed my eyes, unable to look at him and see the hurt in his eyes. I hated that I had hurt him, but it was what I had had to do. At first, it was because he told me he loved me and that scared the shit out of me then. It still did. But then other things had happened and I’d pushed myself even farther away from him. “Trent,” I swallowed thickly, “I know you probably don’t believe me, but I am sorry for how I treated

you.” “It’s okay.” He picked up a strand of my hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “We were young and foolish, and I scared you with my words. I meant them then though,” he bit his lip, “and I mean them now.” I took a shaky breath. “I don’t deserve your love.” I didn’t want to believe in love. Hell, I’d spent most of my life not believing in it. I had seen so much bad that it made it hard to see the good. But I did love Tristan and Ivy. I also knew that there was only one word to describe the look in Trent’s eyes, and that was love. Love, the very thing I had been running from five years ago when I left that stupid tent. Now that I was ready to accept love, to let myself be free, I knew I had to end things. Trent would think I was running again. Maybe I was. But I had to. “I don’t know why you think no one could love you,” he whispered, taking my cheek in the palm of his hand and caressing my lips with the pad of his thumb. I placed my hand over his. “My own mother doesn’t love me, if she can’t, why would anyone else?” His eyes filled with sadness. “No one should ever feel unloved.” I shrugged. “I did… I do.” His eyes closed and pain flickered across his face. “That breaks my heart,” his blue eyes shimmered with tears. His arms caged me against the bookcase as he stared unwaveringly down at me. “I want you to know that you’re not unloved. I know your brother and sister must love you very much. You’ve been the only mother they’ve known and your heart is so good and pure how could they not?” He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath tickling my face as he spoke. “And I love you, Row. More than my next breath.” I cracked a smile. “That’s really cheesy.” He grinned. “That’s me, a giant cheese ball,” he chuckled. Pressing his lips tenderly to my forehead, my eyes closed, and he said, “I meant it, though.” I grasped the soft fabric of his blue sweatshirt in my hands. “Don’t we have a party to get ready for?” “Why, yes, yes we do.”

Hours later, I stood at the top of the grand staircase, grasping Trent’s elbow. I had washed my hair, and styled it in an up-do. I had put on more makeup than usual, but nothing overly dramatic. “Ready?” Trent asked, tilting his head to look down at me. I nodded, wishing my heart would slow its frantic pace. I was beyond nervous. I was downright terrified. This was way out of my comfort zone, and knowing that tomorrow I’d have to sever all ties with Trenton left a sour taste in my mouth. “Breathe,” Trent warned as we descended the steps and made our way to the ballroom. Yes, a legit ballroom. What kind of house has a ballroom? Apparently this one. The doors were open and I gasped as I glimpsed my first sight of the expansive space. Everything seemed to shimmer and sparkle with the light from the chandeliers. There was a live band playing orchestra music in the corner, and many couples danced, while more sat at one of the numerous round tables occupying the space. Waiters came around with food and laughter filled the air. My mouth fell open in shock. This was straight out of a movie. “Would you like to dance?” Trent asked. I nodded. He led me onto the dance floor, and gave me a little spin, before holding me in his arms. He easily led me, like a proper dancer, so I didn’t look like an incompetent fool. “I didn’t know you could dance like this,” I commented. He laughed, bashfully glancing at the ground for a moment and then met my gaze. “My parents made us learn when we were boys. It doesn’t keep Trace from dancing like a fool though,” he winked,

nodding in his brother’s direction. I looked where he indicated and couldn’t contain my laugh as I spotted Trace shaking his hips in a wild circle and his arms flailing above his head. Dean giggled as he mimed his father, and Olivia simply shook her head, obviously used to this behavior. Lily watched in horror, embarrassed by her oldest son’s actions. She finally waved her hand in dismissal and went to speak to someone. My heart stuttered in my chest as a realization rocked me. I loved this family. Most importantly, I loved Trent. Somehow, Trenton had shown me how to love. Love wasn’t meant to come with strings; it was free and uncomplicated—as easy as breathing. That’s what we had, and I’d tried so hard to fight my true feelings, but they were there. He taught me how to love, and now I didn’t know how I would survive breaking our hearts for a second time. “What’s wrong?” He asked, falling out of rhythm to grasp my chin and force me to look at him. He was so in tune with me and my body that he always knew when something was wrong. I wished I were capable of hiding my emotions from him like I could everyone else. “Nothing’s wrong,” I lied. Knowing that wouldn’t suffice with him, I hastened to add, “It’s just… your family… they’re amazing Trent.” He smiled. “Yeah, they are. I’m lucky.” He had no idea how lucky he was. Most people didn’t have families like his. I hoped, when I broke his heart again, that they’d be there for him to help him heal. As much as it killed me to think of Trent with another girl, I hoped he moved on, fell in love, and built his own amazing family one day. We danced to one more song, then he led me to the table Trace and Olivia currently occupied. Dean was trying to climb up Trace’s shoulders and yank on his hair. “Dean,” Trace scolded, “pulling hair isn’t nice.” He grasped the boy’s small fist and removed it from his hair. Dean then proceeded to smack Trace’s cheek. Those two definitely had their hands full with that kid. Lily came breezing up to the table and sat down just as a waiter came by with a tray of food, depositing plates in front of all of us. Everyone talked and chatted easily with one another. Except me. I was retreating into myself once more, and I felt like an outsider looking in. I didn’t belong here. I liked all of them, I really did, but they were so different from me. “You okay?” Trent leaned over to ask. “Yeah,” I replied with a small shrug, trying to figure out how to eat the lobster I had been presented with. “Since we’re all here,” Trace took a sip from his wine glass, waving his hand at his family gathered at the table, “there’s something I’d like to tell all of you.” We all perked up with interest at whatever the oldest Wentworth brother had to tell us. “I’m so happy to tell you guys that Olivia has once again let me plant my sperm inside her and have the joy of watching a baby grow.” “TRACE!” Olivia exclaimed, her cheeks a bright red. “Congratulations,” Trent raised his glass, as his mom and grandma squealed in delight. “Another baby will be exciting… especially if it’s anything like that little devil,” he pointed to a grinning Dean who was clapping his hands together and blowing spit bubbles. “I’m so embarrassed,” Olivia muttered, hiding her face behind a napkin. Lily wiped away a tear from her cheek. “I can’t wait for another grandbaby,” she sniffled. “Oh shit,” Trent muttered under his breath. Turning to me, he grinned crookedly, “Next she’s going to expect me to get you pregnant.” I spat out the sip of wine I had just taken and maroon colored droplets of liquid stained the pristine white tablecloth. “I was just kidding, Row,” he chuckled, beating my back as I struggled to breathe. I managed to recover in time to see Trace’s grandma hugging him and then Olivia. I couldn’t remember her name though. “That’s Grammy,” Trent said, pointing to the older woman. It was like he could read my mind or something. “Her name’s Ellie, but she’ll prefer for you to call her Grammy.” About that time, I heard someone behind us call, “Hey, bitch!”

Olivia’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned even redder than they had been. Poor girl. “And that,” Trent said without turning around, “is Avery.” The woman appeared at our table, draped over a tall brawny guy. She had pretty red hair, styled in waves, and her red dress was beautiful but skin tight. I was surprised her boobs didn’t fall out. The man beside her—Luca, I assumed—was tall with wide shoulders and shaggy dirty blonde hair that fell over his forehead. A black fedora was perched on top of his head. “How was the honeymoon?” Olivia asked as the couple pulled up two chairs to the already crowded table. “I didn’t realize you were getting back today.” “It was beautiful!” Avery exclaimed loud enough that people at other tables heard her. “I didn’t want to come home! It was so nice to be at the beach, and now we’re back home to this crappy snow,” she frowned. Noticing me, she leaned over the table and raised a brow, “Who the hell are you?” Olivia let out a sigh. “Avery,” she muttered, “manners.” “It’s fine,” I smiled at Olivia. “I’m Rowan. Who the hell are you?” I mimicked her words and tone. She smiled. “I’m Avery, this one’s wife, so don’t get any ideas,” she grasped Luca’s shoulder in one hand, and let the other venture territorially over his crotch area. Ew. Luca, who sat beside me, gave me an apologetic smile but didn’t speak. “I wasn’t planning on it,” I assured her. “Good. We can be friends then,” she flipped her hair so that it cascaded over her chest, and went back to talking to Olivia. “Sorry about her,” Trent murmured. “That’s just how she is. Don’t take it personally.” “I didn’t.” “This is Luca,” Trent pointed to the man beside me, who I’d already figured out the identity of. “He doesn’t talk much, so don’t expect him to introduce himself. I think I’ve only heard the guy speak a total of twenty words since he and Trace became friends.” “Uh…” That was strange and I had no comment. I scooted my chair a little closer to Trent’s and he chuckled. They all continued to chat effortlessly, and while Trent tried to engage me in conversation I just wasn’t feeling it. I felt so disconnected and out of place. “Where’s the bathroom?” I asked Trent, interrupting whatever he had been saying. He gave me directions and I muttered, “Thanks,” as I pushed my chair away from the table. I walked briskly out of the ballroom and down the hall. Luckily, the bathroom he’d given me directions to was empty. I closed the door behind me and started counting. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. The counting didn’t calm me the way it normally did. So, I counted again and again and again, until I thought I might go crazy. I paced the length of the bathroom, muttering under my breath. Finally, I stopped, grasping the pedestal sink in my hands. I glared at my reflection. I didn’t recognize the girl I saw there. The dress. The hair. The shoes. None of it was me. I was an imposter. I didn’t belong here. This life wasn’t mine. I didn’t deserve to be surrounded by these people—to laugh and smile with Trent. I was tainted. I continued to glare at the girl in the mirror. I hated her. I hated me. Before I could stop myself, my fist cocked back and flew into the mirror. It shattered everywhere, slicing my knuckles painfully and making me scream.

I crumbled to the ground, some of the shattered mirror shards digging into the bare skin of my legs. My knuckles were on fire and blood dripped from my fingers onto the floor. Oh God. What had I done? “Rowan!” Trent pounded on the door. Of course he’d come to check on me. Someone had probably heard the mirror break and my scream. “Rowan! Open the goddamn door!” I couldn’t move if I wanted to. I sat there, cradling my injured hand in the other. “I’m going to break down this fucking door if you don’t open it!” I shook my head, despite the fact that no one could see me, my throat constricting painfully. He pounded on the door and then silence fell. I stared down at the blood dripping from my knuckles and down my fingers. The pain filled me with an odd sense of satisfaction. The physical pain drowned out what I felt inside. I liked it. The door burst open, splintering from the hinges. Trent stood there, cradling his shoulder, his chest rising heavily with each breath. His mouth fell open as he caught sight of the shards of mirror littering the black and white tiled floor and my bleeding hand. “Row,” he gasped, dropping to the ground and reaching for my hand. I whimpered as he inspected my bloodied knuckles. “We need to get you to a hospital.” I shook my head rapidly. “No. No hospital. Please.” My words came out short and clipped as I winced from the stinging pain in my hand. “You might need stitches. You should go to the hospital,” he pleaded. “I’m not going.” I pulled my hand away from his hold and cradled it once more. He sighed, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair and then wincing from the pain in his shoulder. “Fine,” he relinquished, “but at least let me clean you up.” After thinking it over for a moment, I nodded in agreement. “Okay.” He grasped my arms and hauled me up. He eyed the mess on the floor and then my hand. “What were you thinking?” That I hated myself. “I don’t know,” I said instead. He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and helped me stumble out of the bathroom. My legs were shaky from the leftover adrenaline. We made our way slowly up the steps and some guests lingering in the hall and foyer eyed us with curiosity. Once in his bedroom he pointed at the bed. “Sit.” The tone of his voice told me not to argue with him. He shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and tossed it on a chair in the corner, then proceeded to undo the first three buttons on his crisp white shirt. He eyed my hand, which had stopped bleeding, and a frown marred his face. He muttered something under his breath and strode into his bathroom. I heard him rummaging through a drawer and when he found what he was looking for he came back into the room, kneeling in front of me. He opened the first aid kit, pulling out a set of tweezers, and laying a towel to the side. “I need to get the shards out of your skin before I clean it,” he murmured, holding my hand up and twisting it in the light so he could search for the small pieces. I winced as he began to pick them out. My skin was raw and tender and the metal points of the tweezers hurt as they pinched at the debris. “I don’t understand,” he whispered. “You don’t understand what?” I asked, my voice hoarse as if I had been crying. “Why you would do this,” he answered. I looked down, letting the stray hairs that had fallen loose from my up-do hide my face. “I guess you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Why do I feel like I’m losing you?” His eyes flicked up to meet mine and those pretty baby blues rooted me to the spot. “Can you lose something if you never really have it?” His teeth smashed together. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” I whispered as he lay the tweezers aside. He picked up the rubbing alcohol and dabbed it on a cotton ball before cleaning my knuckles. I winced from the burning sensation. “Why are you so fucking scared of us?” He pointed at his chest and then me. “We’re good together, we’re happy. Why would you run from that?” I’d been scared the night I left the tent, but that wasn’t my reason for running now. “I’m not running, Trent,” I shook my head as he cleaned the blood from my hand. “That’s exactly what you’re doing,” he spat, reaching for the gauze to tape around my wound. With my hand that wasn’t injured, I reached for his face, rubbing my fingers against the slight stubble on his cheek. “I’m not running,” I repeated. “I’m protecting you.” “Protecting me?” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “From what?” “From me.” “I’m pretty sure I can handle you, Row,” he tenderly lifted my hand as he secured the gauze in place. “It’s not about handling me,” I retorted. “I think you know after what I said today that there’s a lot I can’t tell you. I can’t allow you to…” My gut clenched painfully. “I can’t allow you to love me with these secrets standing between us.” My voice cracked painfully. I hated doing this to him again. I felt like my insides were curling in on themselves. “Why can’t you tell me?” He looked at my quizzically, wishing I would spill my secrets to him. “Does it really matter if you do?” I closed my eyes. I wanted to tell him. There had been several times where I had come close to spilling the beans, but I always stopped myself, because I was protecting him from the repercussions of my sins. It had been selfish of me to give in to my desires. No matter how much I had wanted this time with him, it wasn’t fair to either of us. I was ruined for anyone else and he’d never understand why I had to do this. “Yeah, it does,” I finally answered. “I wished it didn’t, but it does matter. One day,” I rubbed his cheek softly, “I’ll be able to tell you, but until then, I can’t say anything. I wish I could.” “Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes closing as he swallowed painfully, “did you sign some contract or something?” I nodded. His eyes widened in surprise at having guessed right. “What the hell did you get yourself into?” “I didn’t kill anybody,” I joked pitifully, “and I’m not in the witness protection program.” “I don’t understand,” his eyes pleaded with me to speak the truth. “Good,” I responded. I lowered my head to his level, where he was bent, and tenderly kissed him. Sadness clung to both of us, as we both knew this was goodbye. He knew me so well that I didn’t even need to tell him. Trent kissed me back fiercely as he climbed onto the bed. “I’m not okay with this,” he whispered, his lips caressing the skin of my cheek as he spoke, “but because I love you, I’m going to set you free.” A sob threatened to escape me at his words. He kissed me as his hands found the zipper on the back of my dress. Cool air hit my back as it became exposed and he drew away from me as he pulled the sleeves off my arms and then the dress down my hips. Once it was off I was left in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties and a bra. His eyes feasted hungrily on my body. “If this is our last night together,” he murmured, gently tugging on my bottom lip with his teeth, “then I’m going to make every second count.” My heart clenched painfully. A part of me was happy that he had accepted that this was it, that there could be nothing more between us, but another part of me was immensely sad. Trenton Wentworth had ruined me for all other men. He owned me, heart, body, and soul. I loved him, I did. I knew that now. But I couldn’t tell him, or he’d never stop fighting for me, and I needed him to let me go. He took his time kissing me all over and undressing the rest of my body. My fingers shook as I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his lean shoulders. His arms wrapped around me, protecting me with their warmth and security. “I love you,” he whispered in between kisses, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” I wondered if he thought by saying those words he could change my mind. I wished it was that easy. He rolled on a condom and slowly eased inside me. Our fingers entwined together, and he rested his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes and straight down to my soul as he made love to me. His lips placed tender kisses along my face, down my neck, and over my shoulders and breasts.

Everything was so sweet and tender. It was the perfect goodbye. If only goodbyes lasted forever…

When I woke up Trent’s arms were wrapped around me and our legs were twisted together. It was like in his sleep he’d thought I might escape and he needed to bind me there. His face was pressed into the crook of my neck and his forehead was wrinkled as if he was dreaming of something unpleasant. I watched him sleep, studying his features—the elegant arch of his nose, his pouty lips, the nearly invisible scar on his cheek, even the light freckles on his nose that you couldn’t see unless you were up close to him like this. They were all such simple things, but they were a part of him. What I loved the most about Trenton though, wasn’t what he looked like, it was his heart—he was the kindest, most giving person I knew. He cared so deeply, it was a rarity to see that in a man—I would know with all the men my mother had brought around as I grew up. Despite the distance in our social classes, Trenton understood me. At a time when I’d been the scared new girl, he’d taken me under his wing and made me feel comfortable. He’d been my best friend. I had trusted him more than I ever had anybody. He’d tried to claim my love before I was ready to give it, and it sent me running. Because of it, I had made some horrible decisions I could never take back. Regret is funny and it does terrible things to you. It robs you of happiness. As if he felt me watching him, his eyes cracked open and he smiled sleepily. His smile quickly turned to a frown though as memories of last night flooded him. “I’m ready to go home,” I whispered sadly. I had to force myself to say the words. I didn’t really want to go back to that place, back to my shitty mom and my sleazy step-dad. I wanted to stay right here with Trent. However, I knew if I let myself linger much longer, the pain I’d feel later would be even worse. The sooner I got away, the sooner I could grieve this loss and move on. Well, there never really would be any moving on for me. Every day I’d be reminded of what I had done, and what I had lost because of it. Trent swallowed thickly and nodded. He clearly didn’t want to let me go, but he knew he had no choice. He extracted his body from mine and stood, pulling on his boxer briefs and then rummaging around his suitcase for a pair of jeans. “I’ll take you home.” His voice was thick, whether from still being sleepy or emotions he was fighting, I didn’t know. I held the sheet to my chest and sat up, looking around his room for my own suitcase. He glanced over his shoulder and saw what I was searching for. He grabbed my suitcase, which had been hidden from my sight by the mountain of blankets on the bed, and deposited it in front of me. I dressed as quickly as possible and pulled my hair back in a messy ponytail. My eyes were bothering me from having fallen asleep in my contacts, so I went to the bathroom and removed them, perching my glasses on the end of my nose. My hand hurt like a bitch this morning, but its constant throb helped diffuse the other pain inside me. I eyed my tired reflection for a moment. My eyes were sunken in with dark circles beneath them and

my mouth was turned down in a frown that I couldn’t force into a smile no matter how hard I tried. Yesterday had been a trying day for me. I still couldn’t believe I’d had that meltdown in the car, and then again in the bathroom. It wasn’t like me, but everything was catching up with me and I didn’t know how to process my feelings. I finished in the bathroom and found Trent waiting by his bedroom door with both our suitcases. “Let’s go,” he muttered without looking at me. It killed me that he couldn’t bring himself to look at me. This had to be done though. We had to end. He couldn’t find out what I had done and I wanted to tell him so bad. Some secrets have to be kept quiet and I was bound to mine. He carried the suitcases down the steps and out to the garage. All the while not saying a word to me. I wanted him to look at me, to say something… anything. Silence, ultimately, was better though. He drove me home, his jaw tight with anger, but sadness too. I knew he’d hate me for this—for breaking his heart a second time. But better he hate me for that than the truth. He parked in the driveway, not the street, and hopped out to get my suitcase. I knew better than to argue as he wheeled my suitcase up to the front door. I walked slightly in front of him and jumped in surprise when the door opened. I expected it to be my mom or step-dad, since they should’ve been the only ones home, but instead it was Tristan. “Row!” He cried my name with joy as he came barreling into my arms. My heart stuttered in my chest. They weren’t supposed to be home yet! I was supposed to pick them up tomorrow! Tristan shouldn’t have been here! “Hi,” Tristan released his stranglehold on me and turned to greet Trenton. Trent’s mouth fell open in shock as his eyes landed on the little boy. His eyes narrowed in puzzlement, then flickered to me, and back to Tristan again. Recognition lit his eyes and my throat closed up. He knew. There was no denying the resemblance. “Hello,” Trenton finally responded, his voice slightly squeaky as he stared down at Tristan. I knew what he saw. I saw it every single day. Tristan had the same light colored hair I’d had as a child, but everything else about him had Trenton Wentworth written all over it—especially his vivid blue eyes. “You need to go inside now.” I gave Tristan a slight shove. He didn’t need to be here to witness this. “Why?” He peered up at me with inquisitiveness. “Just do it,” I said, my voice harsher than how I normally spoke to him. He frowned, but finally went back inside, waving at Trent before closing the door. “That’s my son,” Trenton stated, his eyes full of anger. His face was growing red and his nostrils flared. I nodded. I couldn’t refute it. “That’s my son,” he repeated, rubbing his jaw. His face was clouded with disbelief. “My son,” his voice grew soft with shock. “Why the fuck did you never tell me?!” He suddenly roared, pointing an accusing finger in my face. His eyes were full of hatred for me. Despite knowing if he ever found out that he’d hate me it still hurt to see that look in his eyes. My voice seemed to have stopped working. I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came out. My worst nightmare was playing out before me and I was powerless to stop it. This was exactly what I had been trying to avoid for the last five years. I knew letting Trent back into my life, no matter how brief, would have lasting consequences. “I have a son,” his voice was full of wonder as he glanced at the closed door. “What’s his name?” His eyes stayed glued to the door, like he was willing the small boy to come back outside so he could see him again. “T-Tristan,” I stuttered, finally finding my voice. “You gave him a T name,” he whispered under his breath so low that I wasn’t sure I heard him right. He stared at the closed door, his jaw clenched, and his hands fisting at his sides. He seemed to be battling some internal war. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me!” He twisted back to face me, and I flinched at his harsh tone. I didn’t like him yelling at me, but I understood. This was a shock for him. He had every right to be angry and hate me.

“I couldn’t tell you,” I cried softly, itching to reach out and touch him, but knowing that was the last thing he wanted right now. I had known there was the possibility he might find out about Tristan, it was a small town after all, but I’d hoped to avoid this. I had been forced to keep this a secret, and it had slowly been killing me inside to stay silent, but I’d had no choice. I wasn’t allowed to say anything to Tristan until he was eighteen, which meant Trent couldn’t know until then either. I had always planned to tell him, knowing that he’d hate me when he found out, but having him see Tristan and find out the truth like this was horrible. I knew he wouldn’t understand why I did it. “Like hell!” He spat, shoving his fingers forcefully through his hair. “I can’t fucking believe you, Rowan! This,” he pointed at the closed door, “is what you’ve been hiding from me! This is the reason you wanted to end this! Didn’t you think I had a right to know?!” “Of course!” I reached for his arm, but he flinched, backing away from me. “I couldn’t tell you, Trent,” I pleaded with him to understand. “I wanted to, so bad, but I couldn’t.” “I can’t even look at you,” he muttered, his voice growing quiet once more. “I have to go.” “Trenton! Please, let me explain!” I screamed as he darted around me, running for his car. “Trent!” I begged. I needed him to stay and hear me out. I had to make him understand. I knew he wouldn’t want anything to do with me after this, but I deserved to explain myself. “I don’t want to hear it!” He yelled, turning to point an accusing finger at me. “I’m so fucking angry right now! Guess what?” He spread his arms wide. “You’re getting your wish! From this moment on, I’m out of your life!” He climbed in his car, slammed the door closed, and sped away. I sunk to the ground, snow seeping into my jeans and chilling me. A sob escaped me, and then tears. I reached up, feeling the wetness with timid fingers. I hadn’t cried in five years, not since I found out I was pregnant and my world came crashing down around me. I thought I had been broken before… and I was… but Trenton had managed to carefully piece together the shards of me. Now, I was breaking all over again, and this time I knew the pieces would be too small to ever be reassembled.

My hand shakes as my gaze drops to the slender white stick in my hand. I slide to the floor, my back against the bathroom door. Pregnant. Holy shit. How am I going to raise a kid? I already take care of Ivy, I don’t see how I can raise my little sister and a child of my own. Tears coat my cheeks with sticky dampness. I will the test to change to negative, but of course that doesn’t happen. I’m going to have a baby. Trent’s baby. After how horrible I’ve been to him I don’t see how I can tell him. I’ve said so many mean things to him the last few weeks. Things I’ll never be able to take back. I’m sure he already hates me, and why would he want a baby? We’re sixteen, nowhere near ready to be parents. We’re both kids ourselves. I sit up and toss the stick in the trashcan. I wash my hands and splash my face with water. I have to tell my mom. She hates me. But she’s my mom. She’ll be there for me… right? She’ll make this better. Surely she’ll know what to do. She has to. I crack open the bathroom door and venture into the living room. Ivy is asleep, but my mom shouldn’t be drunk yet. She doesn’t start drinking until late… although, in past weeks she’s been starting earlier. I’m not surprised to find her sitting on the couch drinking a beer as she speaks to her latest fuck buddy. I don’t even remember his name. John? James? Jim? I think it’s Jim.

“Mom,” my voice cracks. She looks up at me, anger causing her to snarl. “What do you want, brat?” I don’t like it when she calls me that. It makes me feel like nothing I do is ever good enough, and I try so hard to get her to love me. I know she’s going to be angry when I tell her I’m pregnant. But she had me when she was young, so I think she’ll understand. Maybe it’ll make us grow closer. “I need to talk to you,” I whisper, “alone,” I added as my eyes flicked towards the man in the recliner. “Whatever you need to say to me you can say in front of Jim,” she sits back, taking a large gulp of beer. “Spit it out. I don’t have all day.” My eyes squeeze shut. Now I’m wishing I had waited to tell her, to let it sink in more, so I could process it. I didn’t though, and if I don’t tell her something, she’ll get angry and hit me. It was foolish of me to think she’d take me into her arms and make it better. She didn’t care about Ivy or me. We were nothing to her, nothing but a burden. I decide to tell her the truth. After all, that’s why I came out here in the first place. “I’m pregnant,” I say, choosing not to sugarcoat the words. Her mouth falls open. “I always knew you’d turn out to be nothing but a slut,” she glares as she looks me up and down. Her words hurt, but I’ve learned to keep my face void of emotion. “I’ll take you the clinic and we’ll have that thing taken care of,” she points at my stomach. “What?” I stumble back, protectively clutching my stomach and the baby residing there. “For an abortion,” she says unnecessarily. “No,” I gasp. “I don’t want that. I want to keep it.” I’m shocked that she would even suggest such a thing. “Honey,” she leans back on the couch, “I’m just trying to save you from my mistake.” I flinch. She’s talking about me. She’s basically saying she wished someone had been there to tell her to get an abortion. “I won’t do that,” I say fiercely. I’ll run away before I let her kill my child. “You could put it up for adoption,” she suggests with a slight chuckle. It amuses her that I’ve made such a colossal mistake. “No. I won’t do that.” “What the fuck are you going to do with a child, Rowan?” She tilts her head. “Huh?” I don’t know. But I do know that I’d rather struggle and have my baby than kill it or hand it over to strangers. Maybe it’s selfish of me, adoption would give the baby a better chance at a happy life, but I want to keep it. I suddenly feel like I should’ve sucked it up and went to Trent. But my mom’s next words silence those thoughts. “The way I see it,” she leans forward, “you have two options. Abortion or adoption. Ain’t no way you can raise a child, you’re too dumb for that.” I want to disagree with her and tell her that I basically take care of Ivy, but I know she’ll only have a well-thought out argument for that. “No way is that baby’s daddy going to help you. Teenage boys run from commitment, Rowan. And a baby? That’s a life sentence no boy wants.” Was she right? She sounded like she was speaking from experience, and I’d basically deduced the same. Trent wouldn’t want to be a dad, and I had school to think about, and with a baby I’d need to get a job to buy it things, and what about college? I wanted to get out of here. A baby would keep me trapped in a life like this, a life just like my mom’s. “How about this,” she smiled, and I let out a sigh of relief that she was going to help me, “I’ll adopt that baby. That way, you can go on and live your dreams, without a baby tying you down. I’m doing you a favor here, baby girl, take it or leave it.” I thought it over for a few seconds. “Deal.”

I wiped my face free of tears as the memory evaporated. I’d been so silly and naïve thinking my mom could fix the mess I had made. I wanted to believe that she was helping me. She wasn’t though. She was simply manipulating me.

I’d signed my life away when I put my signature on the adoption papers. She’d added stipulation after stipulation to the contract. Basically, she wanted me to raise the baby, but he could never know I was his mother and I wasn’t allowed to speak a word to the father. I wondered now, if she knew Trent was Tristan’s dad, if she would have been different because of the money they had. Knowing her, she might’ve tried to sell them the baby. I never should have signed those papers. I knew as soon as I did that I had made the biggest mistake of my life. The contract stated that I couldn’t reveal to Tristan that I was his mother until he was eighteen, unless extenuating circumstances permitted it. So, he’d become my brother, and eventually I started to believe it was true. As long as Tristan didn’t know I was his mother, then Trent couldn’t know of his existence. If I told Tristan that I was his mother before he turned eighteen, I wouldn’t be allowed to see him. If I had gone to Trent in the very beginning, none of this would have ever happened. Hindsight was a pain in the ass. I had believed that Trent would be like every other teenage guy and not want anything to do with me or the baby. I knew that wasn’t true now. Trent wasn’t like other guys, seeing him with his nephew proved that. He would’ve owned his mistake—our mistake… and God, it killed me to even think of Tristan as a mistake. I loved that little boy with everything I had. Now, I valued Tristan too much to tell him the truth. I couldn’t imagine not seeing my son every day, so I kept quiet, refusing to breach the contract, letting my guilt and misery eat me alive. I had so many regrets, but my biggest was not telling Trent I was pregnant before I signed that contract. I’d believe he’d already hated me after the way I pushed him away, and it was believable to think that a sixteen-year-old guy wouldn’t want a baby. “Rowan?” I turned to look behind me and saw Ivy and Tristan standing in the doorway. “It’s cold,” Ivy frowned, “and you’re getting wet. Come inside.” She sounded so mature and wise beyond her years. It broke my heart and tore me up inside. I had tried so hard to give her a childhood, but growing up with a mom like ours made that impossible. I forced myself to my feet, drying my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. My suitcase still sat outside where Trent had left it. I grabbed it, bumping it along behind me. “I made some hot chocolate,” Ivy smiled, but her eyes were filled with worry. “Would you like some?” I nodded, letting my eight-year-old sister take care of me. The door to my mom’s room was closed and the sounds of her having sex with either Jim or some guy she’d picked up at a bar filled the air. I hated that Tristan and Ivy had been home listening to that. I left my suitcase by my closet door and climbed under the covers. Tristan scurried in beside me, his arms winding around my neck. Ivy came into my room a few minutes later with hot chocolate. “What’s wrong with you?” She asked softly. “Are you sick?” I knew it must have been a shock for them to look outside and see me having a break down like that. They’d never seen me cry and I was sure it had frightened them. “I’m okay,” I whispered, kissing the top of Tristan’s head and sliding our bodies over to the other side of the bed so Ivy could join us. “Why are you guys home?” I finally asked. “Mom wanted us home,” Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know why.” That woman. I hated her. I really did. She’d only wanted them brought home to punish me for leaving. “How long have you been here?” “Since last night,” Ivy climbed into my bed beside Tristan. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” I whispered. “It’s okay.” Ivy reached for my hand. “I love you, Rowan. I wish you were my mom.” “I wish you were my mommy too,” Tristan piped in. And then I began to cry again.

I was supposed to work today. Seeing as how Trace was my boss now, I wasn’t sure if I was welcome back at Wentworth Wheels. I was sure Trent had told his family by now. They were close, so why wouldn’t he? They all probably hated me and I couldn’t blame them. I wrestled with what to do, not knowing what would be the right thing. In the end, I made myself get ready and take the kids to school. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t show up and Trace expected me to be there, and I already had enough stuff to be angry at myself for, without adding something else. I dropped the kids off and drove to work. All the while, chewing nervously on my bottom lip. It was raw and sore feeling by the time I arrived. When I put my car in park, my heart was racing in my chest. I expected Trace to hear the sound of my car and come running out, yelling that I was never welcome here again. That didn’t happen though, so I was forced to get out of the car. I didn’t see Trace when I stepped into the building. I called out for him, but heard no reply. I turned to leave, thinking he was ignoring me, but the door to the office opened then and he waved. “Don’t leave,” he said, noting that I had turned on my heels to flee. I braced myself for whatever he had to say. I prepared for him to yell and tell me how horrible I was, but that didn’t happen. “Are you okay?” He asked. I was confused. Why was he asking if I was okay? “I don’t know what you mean.” “Well,” he crossed his arms and legs, leaning against the open doorway, “I’m assuming after what my brother figured out the other day, that he said some not very nice things, and so, I’m going to ask you again… are you okay?” I nodded. “Don’t lie.” “I’m miserable,” I muttered. “That’s what I thought,” he nodded. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he added, “So is he.” I flinched. I didn’t want to hear about Trent, about what my secret had done to him. “I don’t understand why you did it,” Trace pushed away from the doorway and strode towards me, “but I’m sure you had a pretty damn good reason.” I didn’t have a good reason, not at all. “I couldn’t tell him,” I whispered. “Tristan doesn’t even know that I’m his mom. He’s not allowed to know.” I bit my lip as tears stung my eyes. I was not going to cry in front of Trace. “I’ll just… leave now,” I muttered, turning to leave. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Trace said, reaching for my arm. “I never said anything about you leaving.”

“What else do you have to say?” I snapped. “Nothing,” he shrugged, “but I am paying you to work for me.” “You mean… I still have a job?” I asked in surprise, hope flooding my body. I had been sure Trace was seconds away from telling me to get off his property and never come back. “Of course you do,” his brows furrowed together. “Am I pissed because you didn’t tell my brother that he’s a dad? Yeah, I am. But I offered you a job, you’re good at it, and I see no real reason to fire you,” he shrugged, bending down to pick up something from the floor. “You’re family now, Rowan. You’re not going anywhere.” “Thank you,” I gasped, flinging my arms around him and surprising us both with the gesture. He patted my back awkwardly. When I released him, he smiled and said, “Get to work.” I grinned, pleased that I still had my job, but my heart panged in my chest with the knowledge that Trenton was hurting. I headed towards the back of the building where the office was located and Trace called for me. “Yeah?” I stopped, turning to face him. “Trent’s really pissed right now… but in a few weeks, when he cools off, I think you should visit him and explain things to him. Make him understand.” “I will.” And I would, even though it would kill me to face Trent and explain everything to him, it had to be done. Right now, all he knew was that he had a son that I had never told him about, and that was it. He needed to know why I couldn’t tell him, and understand how much I had suffered because of my decision. I would regret what I had done every day for the rest of my life, and I knew when I died, I’d burn in hell for it too.

I watched Tristan closely. I saw him with different eyes now that Trent knew the truth. I could allow myself to truly see the things about my son that were so clearly inherited from his father. Like his eyes, they were exact same shade of blue that Trent’s were. And sometimes, when Tristan was concentrating on something his nose would crinkle, and I’d often seen Trent do the same thing. It was amazing that Tristan had never even met Trent and acted so much like him. Most things really were inherited. I had always tried to force myself not to notice things about Tristan that were like his dad and me. It killed me inside to see things about him that were so clearly us when Tristan didn’t know the truth. It had been easier to make myself believe that he was my brother. It lessened the pain. “Rawr!” Tristan hollered, playing with his toy dinosaurs, having one attack the other. He played for a few more minutes before laying the toys aside. “Row?” He looked up at me with wide questioning blue eyes. “Mhmm,” I nodded for him to continue. “Who was that guy?” “What guy?” I asked, picking at lint on the carpeted floor. “The guy that said hi to me?” He questioned. I frowned, not wanting to answer. “No one. It was no one.” “But I saw him!” Tristan cried. “I know you did,” I said soothingly to calm him, “but he’s no one important.” “Oh,” Tristan frowned. “Why were you asking about him?” I pressed, wondering why the boy’s mind had ventured to think of Trenton. “I thought he might like to play dinosaurs with me,” Tristan frowned. “Or cars,” he pointed to his basket of Matchbox cars. “I think I like cars more than dinosaurs now.” I laughed. “Why is that?” “The dinosaurs always eat each other,” he complained.

“Then why do you make them eat each other?” I countered with a small smile as I crossed my legs. “They’re dinosaurs,” he looked at me like I was dumb, “it’s what they do.” Real laughter burst out of me at Tristan’s words. Leave it to the little boy to be the one to make me feel better. “Why are you laughing?” He asked, dumping the basket of cars everywhere. “Because you’re funny,” I reached over and pinched his cheek. “Don’t do that,” he rubbed his cheek, “I’m not a baby anymore.” No, he definitely wasn’t, and Trent hadn’t been able to see our son grow up like I had. He didn’t know what Tristan looked like when we was born. He’d missed out on everything—Tristan crawling, walking, talking. All of it. It was my fault. I couldn’t take back those years he’d lost with his son. But I could try to give him a glimpse. I knew I still needed to give him more time before I saw him, though. But I had to get him to understand. I was prepared to accept the fact that he hated me, but I didn’t want him to hate Tristan. I wanted him to see what an amazing kid our son was. How even at this age, he was wise like his father, and curious like I had been as a child. He was a little piece of the two of us that would always bind us together. “Wanna play?” Tristan asked, holding out a car for me. “Sure,” I took it from him. He sat on the floor, driving his car around. “Vroom! Vroom! Vroom!” I stared listlessly at the floor as I half-heartedly pushed the toy car around. “Row… Row!” I looked up to find Tristan halted in his playing. “Like this, Row,” he raced his car around in a circle as far as his little arms could reach. “Vroom!” I laughed, making the noise with him as I drove the car around the room. “What are you doing?” Ivy appeared in the doorway. “Playing cars,” Tristan answered. He laid his car to the side and grabbed one from the pile. “Here, you play too.” Ivy took the car and sat on the floor to join us in play. It tore me apart that Tristan didn’t know I was his mom. In his eyes, and Ivy’s, I was though, in all the ways that counted.

“What are you still doing here?” Trace asked, stepping in the office as he brought a bottle of water to his lips. “I thought you already left.” I shook my head. “I’m trying to organize your schedule for called-in appointments and make sure I’ve left time for emergency requests,” I pointed to the appointment book I was scribbling in. “I don’t know what I did before you came along,” he admitted, jumping up on the other desk in the corner, his legs swinging. He leaned over, opening the top drawer, and grabbed a bag of ketchupflavored chips. “Want some?” He asked, holding the bag out for me. I shook my head as my nose wrinkled in disgust. Ketchup flavored chips? Um, gross. “Suit yourself,” he shrugged, munching on one of the crunchy potato chips. “They’re delicious.” We fell into an awkward silence, and I found myself opening my mouth and asking something I shouldn’t. “How’s Trent?” My eyes raised to briefly meet Trace’s before they fell to the paper in front of me once more. “Honestly?” He asked. “I don’t know. He hasn’t talked to any of us since he went back to school. He’s ignoring our calls too. My mom was thinking about driving up to his school to check on him, but I talked her out of it. He just needs time,” he crunched on another chip. “He’ll come around.” “No, he wont,” my voice was full of sadness. “Trust me,” I swiveled in the chair to force myself to look at Trace, “I accepted a long time ago that when Trenton found out the truth he’d hate me. I’ve had five years to prepare myself. You don’t need to try to make me feel better by spouting lies.” “I wasn’t lying to you,” Trace set the chip bag aside, rubbing his salty fingers on his already dirty

jeans. “He will come around, and he will forgive you, because he loves you. Right now, he’s hurt, and he can’t think straight.” “He can’t possibly love me after what I did,” I whispered, pain clenching my insides. “What I did was horrible and I know he must hate me.” Trace shook his head. “I’m sure he wishes he hated you, but he doesn’t.” “How can you be so sure?” I questioned. “Because, love does crazy things to you. I love Olivia more than I ever thought it was possible to love another person, and if she did something like this to me, I’d definitely be angry at first. Really angry. But I’d get over it, and I’d let her explain, and we’d move on from it. Love makes forgiveness easy.” “Forgiveness is never easy,” I whispered, “especially when it isn’t deserved.” Trace hopped down from the desk and patted my shoulder as he passed. “I’m sorry you think that way, but my little brother is going to prove you wrong. Definitely not today or tomorrow. One day, though.” “What if one day doesn’t come soon enough?” I asked him. “Then that’s Trent’s loss,” he shrugged, edging out the door. “Go home. It’s late.” I nodded, closing the book and standing. I pushed the desk chair in and grabbed my purse. Trace flicked the office light off and closed the door. He locked it, and then we headed outside where he shut the garage doors and locked that as well. As he started towards his car, he suddenly stopped and looked back at me. “Give him another week.” “Then what?” I asked. “Then you explain yourself, and hope for the best.” In my life, I’d learned that the best never came, and I expected this to be no different.

I sat with my hands clenching the steering wheel. I’d spent the last thirty minutes sitting in my car unable to back out of the driveway. It had been almost a month since Trent had left and I knew it was time for me to face my fears—to face him—and get everything off my chest. I knew any chance of a relationship between us had been blown. I also knew that I owed him an explanation. I had asked Trace for Trent’s dorm information and where best to wait for him last week. Trace hadn’t pushed me to go after his brother, but he wanted me too. He was optimistic that Trent would get over this, and sweep me into his arms, but that was merely a dream. “You can do this, Rowan,” I started giving myself a ridiculous, but much needed pep talk, “there is nothing to be afraid of. It’s just Trent. He hates you, but you have to explain yourself. He deserves an explanation.” I let my head fall against the steering wheel. “I’m an idiot,” I stated. Staring down at the dark dashboard, since I hadn’t started the car, I counted. The counting calmed me and gave me something to focus on besides the thoughts in my head. “You can do this,” I said, not caring if I looked like an idiot sitting in my car talking to myself. I started the car, turning up the radio and blasting it as I made the two-hour drive to Trent’s campus. My fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel. I was scared to face him now that the truth was out there between us, but I had to. I was definitely scared that he’d refuse to talk to me, or even look at me. I had to try though—even if it crushed me. I pulled up to the campus and parked my car. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I took a deep breath and forced myself to open the car door and step out into the frigid winter air. I reached back inside for my mittens, hat, and the book I’d brought with me to give him. I slipped my hands into the warm mittens as I strode across campus, muttering Trace’s directions under my breath. I’m sure to passersby I looked like a crazy person. Maybe I was. I found a bench outside the dorm that Trace said was Trent’s. Trace had written down his schedule and given it to me, so I knew that Trent should be coming out of the dorm any minute. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I prepared myself to see him. I wasn’t sure I was ready. But this had to be done. I sat down on the bench, my eyes refusing to wander from the dorm door. I couldn’t miss him. “Hey.” I jumped, startled by the voice. I looked up to see a guy standing in front of me. He had shaggy blonde hair and he was tall with wide shoulders. He looked like a football player or something. He

was good looking, sure, but there was only one guy for me. “Hi,” I replied, knowing I had to answer him. “I’m Ben,” he introduced himself. “Mhmm,” I muttered, peering around him at the dorm. “Are you not going to give me your name?” He questioned. “No.” He chuckled. “So, you want me to work for it?” “No, I want you to move,” I snapped, looking up at him. “Are you looking for someone?” He turned to look behind him. “Yes,” I said, my tone cutting. “Mind if I keep you company?” He asked, smiling cockily. He clearly thought that if I spent a few minutes with him I’d completely forget the person I was currently searching for. I glared at him as he sat down beside me, not waiting for me to respond to his question. God, the guy couldn’t take a hint. Luckily, at that moment, I saw Trent start out the dorm doors… but he wasn’t alone. There was a girl with him. She was beautiful, with raven colored hair, olive skin, and dark eyes. She was the complete opposite of me. He was smiling down at her as she spoke, obviously engrossed in whatever she was telling him. Tears stung my eyes. He had moved on. I knew I should’ve expected it, but when I knew that there would never be anyone for me but Trent, it hurt to see that he’d been able to move on in a month. “I have to go,” I muttered to Ben. I started to jog away, but I didn’t make it far. “Hey! Pretty girl!” Ben called. I halted my steps. “What?!” I screamed, loud enough that I drew attention to myself. “Can’t you leave me the fuck alone?! I’m not interested!” “You left this,” he replied with a chuckle, not the least bit annoyed by my outburst. He jogged up to me with the book tucked under his arm. I took it from him and muttered, “Thanks.” Bowing my head, I turned to leave and ran smack into someone’s chest. “Ow,” I reached up to rub my forehead where it had clunked against the person’s chin. “Rowan, what the hell are you doing here?” Trent growled, grabbing my elbow as I stumbled. Ice slithered down my spine. “Nothing,” I wrenched my arm from his grasp. “I was just leaving. Get back to your new girlfriend,” I spat, my tone full of venom I couldn’t contain. “Rowan!” He called as I ran away. Steps thudded behind me, and then I was forcibly turned around. “Don’t run away from me,” he glared down at me. “You must have come here for a reason, so spit it out.” “Let me go!” I wrenched my arm out of his grasp. My chest heaved with angry breaths and tears stung my eyes. I was embarrassed and angry with myself for even coming here. What had I been thinking? I wasn’t ready to have this confrontation, and clearly he wasn’t ready to see me either. He raised his hands in surrender. “You’re the one that showed up at my campus,” he seethed, his eyes so full of hate that it made me feel like I was going to be sick. “I think I have a right to know why you’re here. Let’s get this over with,” he crossed his arms over his chest, his foot tapping impatiently against the ground. “Not here,” I whispered as the need to fight left me, my eyes bashfully darted to the sidewalk concrete beneath my feet. I knew we’d drawn quite a crowd, and there was no way I was having this conversation here. “Fine,” he growled. He grabbed my arm once more and dragged me behind him to his dorm. He pulled out a keycard and swiped it. Forcing open the door, he all but shoved me inside. The muscle in his jaw ticked, reminding me once again that he wasn’t happy to see me. I’d expected that, but it still stung worse than a slap from my mother.

“Follow me,” he stormed up a set of steps, his heavy boots slapping against the tiled floor. I’d come this far, so there was no turning back. I reluctantly followed behind him as I counted in my head. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. He stopped in front of a door and waited for me. He opened the door and waved me inside first. I think he thought I still might try to leave. “Sit,” he pointed at the bed covered in a navy bedspread. I assumed it was his side of the dorm, as the other was covered in dirty clothes and other junk. Trent wasn’t that messy. I perched on the end of the bed, taking a deep breath. He pulled out the chair from his desk and sat in it backwards. “Talk.” Apparently he was so angry that he could only speak to me in short curt sentences. “I don’t know where to begin,” I whispered, forcing myself to look at him. “I don’t know,” he scrubbed a hand over his face, “how about at the beginning.” I noticed that his eyes were tired, like he hadn’t been getting much sleep. His cheeks were scruffier and his hair had gotten longer, curling at the ends. “Well,” I bit my lip, “I-I got pregnant.” “Yeah, I figured out that part,” he rolled his eyes, tapping his fingers nervously along the top of the chair. “Who-who was she?” I forced the words out of my mouth. I needed to know who the girl was that he had been with before I continued. “Is she your girlfriend?” “Huh?” His brows furrowed together. “Who? Oh—” His face lit with recognition. “That was Kelsey,” his tone was soft, not harsh like it had been. “She lives down the hall. We’re friends. That’s all.” My eyes closed as relief flooded my body. It had been tearing my insides apart to think he’d moved on so quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked,” I whispered, my eyes reluctantly meeting his, “but I needed to know.” “Rowan,” he said my name slowly, “I might be angry at you right now, but I’m not that kind of guy.” I nodded. “So… I guess I better… uh… explain.” “That is why you came here, isn’t it?” He questioned, sarcasm lacing his tone. I wanted the sweet Trent back from the moment before. “Well,” I rubbed my sweaty palms over the fabric of my jeans, “I-I found out I was pregnant,” I swallowed thickly. “I’d already pushed you away before that. It scared the crap out of me when you told me that you loved me,” I admitted. “I knew you meant what you said, but I didn’t believe in love. My mom, who should love me, only hurt me. I thought if you loved me you’d only hurt me in the end too. I was scared and I wanted to avoid that.” I took a deep breath, gazing at the ceiling for a moment as I gathered my thoughts. There was a water stain there and I stared at it as I counted. “When I found out I was pregnant… I’ve never been so frightened in my entire life. I was just a kid myself, Trent, and so were you!” I exclaimed furiously. “I was already raising my little sister. I didn’t see how I could take care of a baby too.” Wetness coated my cheeks. I had never told anyone this, and it was liberating to finally tell the truth. “I had been so mean to you, after what we did and I thought you had to hate me by that point. Besides, you were a sixteen year old guy, why the hell would you want a baby?” I laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “I felt so alone. So alone,” my voice cracked. “My relationship with my mom was already pretty much non-existent, but some part of me believed she could make it all better. Boy, was I wrong.” Trent’s eyes never wavered from my face as I purged myself of my sins. “She wanted me to get an abortion,” I admitted, looking at the tiled floor. “I couldn’t do that, Trent. I couldn’t kill our baby.” Tears stung my eyes but I dammed them back. Tears were a sign of weakness, and the last thing I needed was to be vulnerable in front of him. “So, she suggested that she adopt the baby. I thought that was the best option.” I took a moment to catch my breath, counting to ten in my head before I continued. “I was so, so wrong,” I shook my head, wringing my fingers together. “Tristan doesn’t know I’m his mom.” Mom. I was his mom. I hadn’t ever allowed myself to refer to myself as his mom before, but I was. “The contract I signed for the adoption,” I paused, momentarily overcome by sadness, “he can’t know anything until he’s eighteen. Once I signed that, I knew there was no way I could tell you.”

“Why not?” He growled. “I would’ve fought for him! I would’ve gotten our son back!” He yelled, his chest heaving. “I wouldn’t have let him suffer with that wretched woman! I may not know your mother, but I know enough to understand that she is the last person that should have custody of our child!” “I know that, now,” I whispered. “I regret it so much.” I couldn’t contain my sob. “Every day for the last five years, I’ve had to live with what I’ve done. It’s killed me to live with this. You don’t know what it’s been like!” My whole body shook with the force of my emotions. “Of course I don’t,” he tore angrily at his hair, “because I didn’t fucking know!” “I can’t take back what I did, Trent,” I whispered, unable to look at him. “What’s done is done, and I have to suffer for my decision for the rest of my life.” “How did you hide it?” He asked. “Huh?” I was confused of his meaning. “We went to school together. I saw you five days a week and I never knew you were pregnant. I didn’t even suspect it. How did you hide it?” He repeated his question, looking straight at me, daring me to look away. “I-I always wore baggy shirts, and I didn’t get that big. So, it was easy to hide,” I stammered, my hands wringing together with nervousness. “When you were out with mono for like two months, that’s when you had him isn’t it?” I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip. “Did anyone else, except your mom, know you were pregnant?” He continued to fire questions at me. I had expected this, but they were still hard to answer. “Just my mom and Jim, my step-dad,” I shrugged. “And Ivy, my sister, was too little to remember.” “Were you ever going to tell me?” He asked, rubbing his face, and his voice suddenly sounded exhausted. “Of course,” I gasped, offended that he thought I’d take this secret to the grave. “I had to wait until Tristan turned eighteen, but I was going to tell you. Please, never doubt that, Trenton.” “I just… I don’t know what to think of you,” he scrubbed a hand tiredly over his face. “I can’t believe you didn’t trust me enough to tell me when you found out. I told you that I loved you! I would’ve loved our son too! Fuck,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands, “I already love him and I don’t even know him. I’ve only seen him once,” his voice grew soft, his eyes far away. “I-I want to see him again,” his gaze met mine with a steely determination. “No,” I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you see him.” His face reddened. “He’s my son, I deserve to see him!” He exploded with anger and I was surprised he didn’t jump up from the chair and storm across the small space towards me. “He can’t know. Oh God, he can’t know,” I repeated, my fight or flight senses kicking in, meaning I was about ten seconds away from running out the door. “Jesus Christ, Rowan!” He exclaimed, making me jump. “I’m not asking you to tell him that I’m his dad! I just want to see him! I want to talk to him, please,” his tone softened as he begged. “When I saw him… everything was such a shock that I don’t even really remember what he looks like.” “I don’t know,” I whispered, my hands shaking. “My mom—” “You can let me know when your mom’s gone and I can come over then,” he interrupted me. “I know you’re…” he trailed off. “Anyway, she doesn’t have to be around.” “She never leaves,” I mumbled, picking at my fingernail so I didn’t have to look at him. I’d looked at him all I could stand. It hurt too much seeing him. I’d suffered enough pain, I didn’t need to add to it. “Then meet me somewhere with him. Please,” he begged, his eyes pleading with me to give in. “I don’t know if I can,” I bit my lip. “Tristan might say something, and if it gets back to my mom…” Bad things would happen. Things Trent couldn’t, and wouldn’t, protect me from. “Fine,” he ground out through his teeth. “Don’t let me see him.” He stood, pushing the chair back against his desk with a calmness I knew he didn’t really possess. “I think you should leave now,” he whispered with his back to me. I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. I stood, laying the book on the bed. “That’s… that’s for you,” I said slowly, as he peeked around at me. He swallowed thickly, turning around fully, and his eyes landed on the photo album. “I was making it for you,” I squeaked. “It’s… it’s pictures of Tristan from when he was born, till now. I was going to fill it until he was eighteen and knew the truth, and then give it to you. But seeing as you know the truth now,” I lifted my shoulders in a small shrug, “I don’t see the point in keeping it.”

He didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t mistake the telltale glimmer of tears in his eyes. I hated that I had hurt him. I had been a naïve child, and put my trust in a woman that had never given me a reason to trust her before. I had been foolish. I couldn’t take back that fateful decision, and I was stuck living with the consequences. I always knew that if Trent ever saw Tristan he’d see the resemblance, so there was never any chance of us having a relationship. I had let myself get tangled up in him again, though, because I couldn’t help myself when it came to Trent. I took a deep breath and forced myself to put one foot in front of the other so I could leave. I stopped with my hand on the doorknob, unable to make myself twist it. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I refused to turn and look at Trent, but I had to get this off my chest. He deserved to know my true feelings, even though it was too late for us. I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood. Our breaths were the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. Time appeared to stand still as I prepared to say three very important words. I swallowed thickly and didn’t bother to look at him. I couldn’t bear to stare at his angry face as I finally spoke these words out loud. My eyes closed, and I murmured, “I love you, Trent.” He gasped. And with that, I swung open the door, tears falling from my eyes as I ran away from everything.

“Rowan, are you okay?” Tatum asked, her blonde hair falling forward as she leaned across the table to peer at my face. I didn’t answer her. Was I okay? Yes. No. I suppose. I don’t know. Did it matter if I was okay or not? “I think she’s comatose,” Jude piped in, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I didn’t blink. “Should I get someone?” Tatum whispered to Jude, but I heard her. I must have looked bad if those two were speaking civilly to one another. They bickered like an old married couple. Well, Tatum did. Jude usually just smirked at her as she went on a tirade about what a man whore he was. “I dunno,” Jude shrugged, tilting his head and squinting. “You’re the one that’s studying to be nurse,” she smacked his shoulder. “You should know if we need to call someone.” Jude grinned. “It pleases me that you know what I’m studying.” “Oh, down boy,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, “stop fluffing your damn peacock feathers. I only know what you’re studying, because it’s the same as Rowan.” Jude rolled his eyes. “Liar. You know you go home and stalk me on Facebook. I bet you lick your computer screen when you see pictures of me shirtless,” he licked his lips suggestively. “Ow!” He exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head where Tatum had swatted him. “Focus,” Tatum hissed. “I’m really worried about her.” I frowned. I hated that I was worrying them, but I had nothing to say. “Look,” Tatum pointed to me, “did you see that? She moved her face.” Jude rolled his eyes. “She’s not fucking dead, Tate, of course she can move her face.” “Don’t you ever call me Tate,” she seethed, loud enough that several people in the library shushed her. Jude raised his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t know I couldn’t.” “Only my friends,” she emphasized, “can call me Tate.” “Oh, so we’re not friends?” He grinned, propping his head in his hand and pushing the beanie he wore up his forehead a bit. “We’re not anything,” she countered, glaring at him.

“We’ll see about that,” he chuckled under his breath. Watching those two argue was like watching a really competitive tennis match play out. “Will you guys shut up?” I snapped. “Finally!” Jude tossed his hands dramatically in the air. “She speaks!” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not mute,” I muttered. “What’s going on with you?” Tatum asked, her lips turning down in a frown. “You haven’t been yourself for like two months now. I mean, it’s not like you’re normally a peppy person, but you’re not normally this… depressing either.” “I’ve had a lot going on,” I muttered, looking down at the book I should have been reading. “Rowan,” Tatum continued, “we’re your friends.” I wanted to laugh at how she reluctantly said, we’re. She didn’t like that Jude was my friend too and was hanging around all the time. “You can talk to us.” “There’s nothing to talk about,” I sighed. “Honestly.” “Did something happen with Trent?” She questioned, refusing to let up. I flinched. Even hearing his name was painful. I hadn’t heard from him since the day I left his apartment a month ago. I told him I loved him, and he did nothing. Not that I was expecting him to run after me, kiss me passionately, and take me back. I knew that was silly, but selfishly I had expected something. A call, a text, something. But I got a whole lot of nothing. He didn’t care about me. Once he found out about Tristan, that shattered anything we had or could’ve been. I’d known it would, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. “It did!” Tatum clapped her hands together. “Why are you clapping?” Jude nudged her. “Obviously something bad happened, or she wouldn’t be moping like this.” “Oh.” Tatum’s shoulders slumped. “Riiiiight.” I rolled my eyes and stood, packing up my books. “This has been… fun, but I’m going home.” “No, don’t leave,” Tate begged. “It’s late. I need to get home anyway,” I muttered, heaving my heavy backpack onto one shoulder and then the other. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Tatum said sadly. I didn’t reply. I needed to get out of there. I didn’t want to hear or talk about Trent. I wanted to file all my memories of him in a box and only peek at it when I needed to be reminded of my love for him. I wasn’t ready for that yet. For now, it was easier to pretend he didn’t exist. I got in my car, letting out a shaky breath. I missed him. It killed me to admit that to myself, but I did. I missed his smile. His laugh. His warmth. Everything. I needed to move on, though. I couldn’t live in the past forever, and that’s all he was to me. I knew I would never love anyone else, and I couldn’t see myself with another man, but I needed to move on in some way. It would help if I could focus on school and the kids, but it was impossible. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t block Trenton from my thoughts. Thoughts of him always popped up when I least expected it. I drove home, keeping the radio silent. I couldn’t remember the last time I listened to music, because even a song could trigger a painful memory that I was trying so desperately to avoid. When I stopped in the driveway, the house was dark, the only light was the one shining in the kids bedroom window. I grabbed my backpack, locking my car. I stepped inside the house and found Ivy and Tristan waiting for me. They stood in the darkened living room by the door, waiting for me. “Uh… what’s going on?” I asked, easing the door closed. I was irked by their strange behavior. “Mom’s cold,” Ivy whispered. “What do you mean?” I asked, fumbling through the dark for a light. “She’s cold,” Ivy repeated. “I think she’s sick. She won’t wake up.” Oh, shit. I finally got the light on and rushed over to the couch my mom always occupied. Ivy was right, she was cold. Too cold. Her skin had turned an icky blue gray color and her eyes were closed, giving the

impression that she was sleeping. I knew better though. It didn’t take any medical training to figure out that she was dead. I still felt for a pulse, but no fluttering met my fingers. “Ivy, bring me my phone,” I kept my tone as calm as I could. “It’s in my purse.” “Is sumfing wrong wif mommy?” Tristan asked, his words unrecognizable than from his tears. “She’s not feeling well,” I explained, not sure how to tell him that she was dead. Ivy handed me my phone. I dialed 911 and pressed the phone to my ear. “Ivy,” I took the girl into my arms, hugging her, “I want you to take Tristan to your room and play for a little while, okay?” She nodded. “She’s dead… isn’t she?” Ivy whispered in my ear. I nodded. There was no point in lying to her. She reached her hand out for Tristan’s and spoke to him sweetly as she coaxed him out of the room. “911, what is your emergency?” “Uh…” What the heck was I supposed to say? “Ma’am, what’s your emergency?” The operator asked again. “I-uh-my mom, she’s dead. An overdose, I think,” I muttered, feeling so exhausted. And shouldn’t I have been sad? Or remorseful? Something? The woman who was my mom was dead and I didn’t even feel like crying. I’d stopped caring about her a long time ago and after everything she’d done to me I felt nothing but relief at her passing. “What’s your address?” I rattled it off. “I’m sending an ambulance and a police officer to your house. They should be there in ten minutes,” the woman said. “Okay,” I said slowly, my voice sounding as dead as the woman lying on the couch. I was in shock. I hung up the phone, dropping it to the ground and crawling across the floor to the other side of the room where I sat with my legs drawn up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I couldn’t take my eyes off her body slumped on the couch. Empty bottles lay beside her. She could no longer be a pain in my ass, or smack me around, or hold those wretched legal papers over my head. I was free to tell Tristan that he was my son… but at his age, was that the right thing to do? Was he ready for the truth? I didn’t think I could live with this secret anymore, and now that she was gone, I didn’t have to. “Row?” I looked up to see Tristan standing beside the couch with Ivy behind him, looking from my mom to me. “We heard the sirens,” Ivy whispered, like she was afraid I’d be mad they left the room. I shook my head, slowly coming to my feet. Sirens? I forced myself to focus, and I could indeed hear sirens in the distance. “I need you guys to stay in the bedroom,” I slowly came to my feet. “Wait there for me, okay?” Tristan ran forward, wrapping his arms around my leg. “I don’t want to leave you, Row.” I squatted down so I was at his eye-level. “I know you don’t, but I need you to be a big boy and do this for me.” I ran my fingers through his sandy hair. “Can you be a big boy?” After a minute, he reluctantly nodded. “Good,” I kissed his cheek, steering him back to Ivy. They went back to their bedroom and I heard the door shut. At that moment there was a knock on the door, announcing the presence of the paramedics and police. I opened the door, letting them inside. It didn’t take the paramedics long to pronounce her dead. The police came inside, looking around, and asking me questions. I knew it was all standard procedure, but it still bugged me. I wasn’t a criminal, and I most certainly wasn’t a murder, so I didn’t see why they thought they needed to interview me. When they finally finished their questioning, it was beyond late. I wanted nothing more than to get in the bed, and be done with this day. I was still numb to the fact that I’d come home to find my mom dead. It didn’t seem real, and I felt like a despicable person for being happy that she was gone. She had done horrible things to me, and I didn’t have an ounce of love or even gratitude for the woman.

She’d destroyed every good thing I had in life. “We’re going to have an autopsy done,” the police officer said, heading for the door. “We shouldn’t rule out foul play yet.” In other words, I was a suspect and I shouldn’t leave the state. Good to know. I nodded. “Okay,” I forced the word out of my mouth as the two officers descended the front steps. I closed the door, locking it. I turned around, my back against the door, and bile rose in my throat. I couldn’t take my eyes off the couch where she had died. I ran for the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet as I emptied my stomach contents into it. I heaved, unable to breathe, and tears stung my eyes. I flushed the toilet and leaned against the sink, needing the support as I brushed my teeth, and then splashed my face with cold water. I needed to get out of this place and find somewhere for us to live. We couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t stay here. It already held so many unpleasant memories, and knowing she had died here freaked me out even more. But it was close to midnight now, so there was no way I could find us a place to rent this late, and a hotel was too expensive. I didn’t have class tomorrow, but I did have to work. Maybe Trace would let me off early to go house hunting. I didn’t think he’d mind, especially once I informed him of the situation. I grabbed a hand towel, using it to dry my face. I looked in the mirror and found my eyes bloodshot, my hair hanging limply, and my face gaunt. I didn’t look good at all. The police officers probably thought I was a drug addict and killed my mother for some dumb ass reason. It wasn’t drugs that had made me this way. It was my broken heart, because I’d been foolish enough to fall in love. I’d never make that mistake again. I laid the towel aside and walked across the hall to the kids room. I opened the door and they both barreled into my chest. I wrapped my arms around them, holding on tightly, and wondering how someone couldn’t love their child. I hadn’t believed it was possible to fall in love, but I had always loved my sister and son. It was a different kind of love than what I felt for Trenton, but nonetheless, it was love. “What’s going on?” Tristan asked. “Tell me, Row!” He cried, tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. I took his small face between my hands. “Tristan,” I whispered his name, “mom’s dead.” His little face crumpled and he squeezed his arms tightly around my neck. “Does this mean you’re our mommy now?” He asked, his tears soaking my shirt. I kept quiet, because I didn’t know what to say. “Can we sleep in your bed tonight, Row?” Ivy asked. “I don’t want to sleep by myself,” she whispered. “Of course,” I replied, my eyes connecting with hers as I hugged Tristan. They were both already in their pajamas so I fixed them in bed, and set about fixing them something to eat. I wasn’t hungry after everything that had happened tonight, and they probably weren’t either, but I wanted them to at least try to eat. I found some microwave chicken nuggets and the fries you bake in the oven. It would do in a pinch. As the food cooked, I carried bottles of water back to my room. I smiled when I saw Ivy speaking to Tristan, her arm draped protectively over his shoulder. I wanted so desperately to tell Tristan that I was his mom, but I wasn’t sure that was the best thing. Would it be better to let him be older before I told him? Or was now okay? There wasn’t a proper procedure for this, and I felt so clueless. I wanted someone to tell me what to do. I was sick and tired of always being the person that had to figure things out. Their food finished cooking and I fixed them plates. It smelled good, and I found my stomach rumbling, so what was left I put on a third plate for myself. “We’re having a picnic in Row’s bed!” Tristan clapped his hands. I laughed, shaking my head. The horror of our mom having been dead in the living room had already left Tristan. The woman had been awful, and children processed things differently than adults. I didn’t have a TV in my room, so the three of us sat lined up in my bed eating our food, and filling the silence with our chatter. Since the ambulance and police officers left, a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t have

to lie or worry about pissing off my mom anymore. I was beginning to feel the first inkling of freedom and I wanted to grasp onto it and never let it go. I wouldn’t be imprisoned any longer. “What’s going to happen to us, Row?” Ivy whispered once the lights were off and we’d laid down to go to sleep. “Are they going to take us away from you?” I reached over Tristan’s body, since he was snuggled between us, and grasped Ivy’s hand. “I will never let anyone take you guys from me,” I spoke fiercely. “I promise.” “I love you,” she sniffled, and I knew she was crying. “I love you too.”

After I took the kids to school, I packed up everything that belonged to us—which wasn’t much. I had no plans of sleeping here tonight. I knew it would be pretty much impossible to find a place to rent on such short notice, but if it came to it, I knew Colleen would be happy to let us stay with her. My grandparent’s lived too far away for them to be an option, because of Tristan and Ivy being in school. I packed what I could into my car, having to leave some things behind because there wasn’t room. Once I found a place to stay it would only take one more trip back here to have everything. Even though I’d showered, I felt dirty from having been in that house. Its nastiness clung to me and I wanted it off—but that wouldn’t happen until I was gone and never had to come back. I was thankful that I only had to work today and didn’t have classes. I didn’t need the added stress on top of what I already had to deal with. My mom was dead—this lone thought playing on repeat in my mind. I think a part of me was still shocked. I’d believed someone as vile and despicable as her would never die. I felt like she’d stick around, always reminding me of my sins, and what I lost. But she was gone, and I was free of my binds. I could be Tristan’s mother. I didn’t have to lie, or disappear from his life when it became unacceptable for me to be there if he believed I was merely his sister. Now that Trenton knew the truth, and Tristan would know soon, I felt… at peace. The moment I signed those damn papers, I lost my freedom. Now, thanks to a stroke of luck, I had it back. I had been stuck in a prison for so long, that I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t have to work so hard now, and hide money, because I didn’t have to fight for custody. Everything was falling into place for me. Well, almost everything. I had lost Trenton, and I was never getting him back, so there would always be damage to my heart. That was okay, though, because I no longer had to live a lie. The truth was out there and I didn’t have to hide behind the story I’d been coerced into telling. It didn’t take me long to get to work. Trace was already there, his boots sticking out from beneath the car he was working on. I inhaled the scent of motor oil—something that had become familiar to me in the short time I had been working here. “Can I ask you something?” My voice was hesitant as I stopped beside the car. “Sure,” he slid out, scaring me half to death with how quickly he did it. “What’s up?” He grinned, running his fingers through his unruly hair. Trace was always so… unusually peppy. Did the guy ever get mad? “My mom died last night,” the words slipped from my mouth. That was not what I’d been planning to

say. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he jumped up, his arms winding around me before I knew what he was doing. I couldn’t make myself hug him back, I was so in shock by the gesture. “Don’t be sorry,” I muttered. “Seriously,” I stared at the ground, frowning. “Oh…” He paused. “Was she… not a good mom?” I laughed at his awkward question. “You could say that.” “Do you need the day off?” He asked. “You could’ve called me. You didn’t need to come in.” “I know,” I shrugged, still looking at the ground. “I wanted to come in though. Work will help take my mind off things,” I forced a smile. “I was wondering if I could leave early though? I need to find a place for us to live. I can’t stay in that house.” Trace’s eyes filled with sympathy and compassion. “Of course,” he told me without any hesitation. “Wait…” He paused and for a moment I thought he had changed his mind and my stomach dipped with worry. “I might have a solution to your problem?” “Really?” I was a bit afraid as to what his solution was. There was no way I was staying with his mom and grandma at the mansion or at Trent’s townhouse. Even if he was away at school that would be beyond awkward. “Follow me,” he stepped around me, striding out of the garage. He didn’t look back to see if I was coming, he knew I would. He led me around the side of the building and up a set of steps to the floor above the shop. I didn’t know what was up here and never bothered to ask. He dug a key out of his pocket and opened the door. He reached inside, flicking a light on, then reached out and grabbed my arm to yank me inside. I stumbled, and he tightened his hold so that I didn’t fall. It was a small apartment. The kitchen was surprisingly nice and clean. I saw a bedroom and a bathroom to my right and the living room was straight ahead. “You guys can stay here,” he beamed, his hands resting on his hips. “I know there’s only one bedroom, but for a temporary thing, it’ll work. I can get some bunk beds for your sister and Tristan, and they can go here,” he pointed to the space where a dining table had probably once sat. “This is where I used to live,” he smiled, looking around the place with a fond look in his eyes. “I like it. Once Olivia got pregnant though, it wasn’t suitable for a newborn,” he shrugged. “How much?” I asked. “Huh?” His brows furrowed together. “What do you mean?” “How much do you want to rent it out for?” I clarified. He looked at me like I had lost my mind. “I don’t want anything.” “Trace,” I groaned, knowing I was going to have to fight him on this, “I have to pay you something. I won’t feel right if I don’t.” “Rowan,” he said my name slowly, staring me down with unwavering green eyes, “this place is sitting here empty and I’m not making any money off of it. You’re not paying me.” “I have to pay you,” I whispered, crossing my arms over my chest. “I won’t feel right if I don’t. You already let me keep my job, and after everything that’s happened with your brother, I won’t feel right if I don’t.” He shook his head back and forth forcibly, like a child would. “Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ as he rocked back on his heels. “Well,” I turned to leave, “I’ll find somewhere else.” “Wait!” He reached out, grabbing my arm. “Tristan is my nephew, please let me help.” His eyes pleaded with me to give in. “I want to know that you’re all safe. Not just him, but you and your sister too.” When he put it that way I didn’t see how I could say no. I’d been forced to keep Tristan from him and his family long enough. I didn’t need to do it anymore. “Fine,” I relinquished. “But if you change your mind and want me to pay, just say so.” “I won’t change my mind,” he winked, tossing his arm over my shoulders like we were old friends as we walked out the door. “Luca will be here any minute. I’ll leave him here, and we’ll get your things packed and moved in.” “I already packed everything,” I admitted, shrugging off his arm as I descended the steps. “Most of it’s already in my car, I couldn’t fit everything, but there’s not a lot left.” It was really quite sad how little the three of us had.

“Cool,” he rubbed his hands together. “We’ll get your car unloaded and you can go get the rest of your stuff.” “Thank you,” I told him, finally allowing myself to sigh in relief. I had a place to stay with the kids. We didn’t have to spend one more night in that house that haunted me. We could start over new. “You don’t ever need to thank me,” he smiled, walking towards my parked car. “Yes, I do, believe me,” I muttered under my breath. Trace didn’t understand how much his simple acts of kindness had meant to me. “It’s unlocked,” I told him, since he stood by my car waiting. I hadn’t bothered to lock the piece of junk when I arrived at work. He opened the back door, grabbing one of the clear plastic bins I’d used to pack our stuff. I hadn’t had boxes and I’d gotten crafty. “These are heavy,” he said, unnecessarily, seeing as how I’d loaded them in the car and knew what they weighed, “so let me carry them. It’s a long way to the apartment.” He was right, but I hated being useless. As soon as his back was turned, I grabbed one. I knew I wouldn’t make it up the steps without dropping it and spilling the contents, so I left it at the bottom of the steps. At least he wouldn’t have to walk as far with it. That counted for something. I unloaded the rest and found Trace waiting for me, staring at the bins as he shook his head. “Didn’t I tell you not to help?” He eyed me, a smile playing on his lips—lips so similar to the ones I missed. I forced a smile, tucking my hair behind my ears. “I’m not the type to sit back and not do anything. I have to help.” “I’ve figured that out,” he laughed, wetting his lips. “I’ll get these brought inside, why don’t you head home and get the rest?” “I can do it later,” I shoved my hands in my back pockets. “I need to work.” He shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “Take today off. Get your stuff, come back, unpack, and get yourself settled. Make a home for my nephew,” he grinned. How could I argue with that? The man knew how to guilt trip me. I nodded. “I won’t be long.” “Take your time,” he shrugged, tapping his fingers on the stair railing. “We’ll be fine here.” I didn’t reply. I was overwhelmed by Trace’s generosity, especially considering I’d kept Tristan a secret. Trace was an understanding guy, though. He didn’t hold grudges. I wished Trenton were the same way. I didn’t expect, or deserve, forgiveness for what I had done. Still, I would’ve loved to hear from him, something… anything. Hell, I would have been happy with an angry phone call at this point. I wanted him to acknowledge my existence. Selfish, I know, considering what I had done. But love made you that way. Even if the other person hated you, you still wanted them.

I packed up the last of our things. Jim wasn’t home, and I had no idea where he was, nor did I care. He was a piece of shit, and I was glad I could be rid of him and my mom. This was my chance at a clean slate. A new Rowan Sinclair was emerging. I didn’t have to lie and deceive anymore—and that was a really good feeling. I loaded the last of our things up and didn’t bother looking back at the house as I left. I was closing this chapter on my life, and starting a whole new one… I only hoped it got better.

“This is our new home?” Tristan asked as I opened the door to the apartment. He clutched his stuffed dinosaur tightly in his hand, his eyes taking in the new space. Ivy looked around, much the same way, a Barbie doll dangling from her fingers. After everything that had happened last night, I’d decided to indulge and taken them to Target to get a new toy and then out to dinner at a nice restaurant. “Yep,” I turned on the light, “this is our new home.” I gasped when I spotted the bunk bed. Trace hadn’t been kidding.

Tears pricked my eyes at his kindness. While I’d been gone, he’d bought a bed and put it together for the kids. Wow. To say I was touched didn’t even cover the way I felt. “Are those for us?” Tristan’s eyes lit up when he spotted the bunk bed. He danced excitedly on the balls of his feet as he pointed at it. “It sure is,” I smiled. Tristan giggled, running for the bed. “I get the top!” He shrieked. I knew Ivy would want the bottom bunk anyway, since she was afraid of heights. I set the groceries I’d picked up on the counter and then began un-bagging them. I hadn’t gotten much, so it didn’t take me long to put everything away. Once the food was in its proper place I scoured the bins for the kids bedding. I finally found it—in the last bin I checked—and forced them to vacate the bed. Tristan pouted, upset at being evicted from his new favorite place. “Don’t you want your sheets on the bed?” I asked when he kept staring at me with mopey eyes as I made Ivy’s bed. He nodded. “I guess so,” his fingers tightened around his stuffed green and orange dinosaur. My breath caught for a moment as I looked at him. I so desperately wanted to tell him the truth—so why not tonight? What difference would waiting make? It wasn’t like the woman he believed was his mom had ever acted as such. I was scared to tell him though. He was a child, and they could be so incredibly fragile. I didn’t want to cause him pain. I had only ever wanted to protect him, which had led to the adoption in the first place. That had been a major screw-up, so I didn’t want the same thing to happen again. I felt that waiting until he was older would only bring more heartbreak. There had been enough lies, and I’d carried them for so long. I was ending this tonight. The new Rowan Sinclair wasn’t going to keep quiet. I finished making their beds and turned on the TV that had been left in the apartment from when Trace lived here. There was also a couch, and a bed was in the bedroom. Everything else had been cleared away. As soon as I sat down, Ivy cuddled against one side, and Tristan burrowed against my other. I guessed playing on his new bunk bed wasn’t a priority anymore. I ran my fingers through his light hair and kissed the top of his head. I loved him so much—and that love had led me to make the worst decision of my life. I’d thought I was doing the right thing though. “Tristan,” I swallowed thickly as his blue eyes—Trent’s eyes—raised to meet mine. “There’s something I need to tell you,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I spoke. God, this was hard. Ivy sat up too, watching me curiously. She knew from my tone that I had something important to say. I didn’t know quite how to approach this. Shit. I should’ve googled this or read a book about it. I was sorely unprepared to have this profound conversation with my son. Finally, I reached out, lovingly stroking his cheek. “A long time ago, I had a baby,” I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, “a baby boy.” “You had a baby?” Ivy gasped. “Baby? Where?” Tristan looked over his shoulder like one was magically going to appear. “Here,” I tapped his chest. “The baby’s inside me?” His light brows wrinkled together, looking like a fuzzy caterpillar. “No, silly,” I couldn’t help but laugh, “you’re the baby.” “I’m the baby? I’m not a baby, Row.” He shook his head in disgust that I would suggest such a thing. “Not now, but once you were a baby. My baby. I carried you in my tummy,” I touched my stomach. Tristan reached out, his little fingers touching my now flat stomach through the soft cotton of my shirt. “I was in there?” He tilted his head. “Mhmm,” I nodded. “I was a kid myself,” I brushed his hair out of his eyes, “and didn’t think I could take care of you. So, my mommy became your mommy. She adopted you.” “Huh?” He questioned. I shook my head. At his age, there was no need to go into detail. He wouldn’t understand. “What I’m trying to say, Tristan, is that I’m your mommy.” I couldn’t hold back my sob. When had I turned into such a blubbering mess? I didn’t like this new development. Tristan grinned, showcasing his slightly crooked little white teeth. “I always knew you were my real mommy.” He surprised me by flying at me with open arms. I wrapped mine around him, holding on tight. I never wanted to let him go. I wanted to cling to him forever.

“Does this mean you’re my mommy too?” Ivy’s soft voice spoke up. I looked over at her, not releasing my son, and found her crying little sniffling tears. I frowned, wanting to cry harder for my sister. “No, sweetie.” Her face crumpled. “I want you to be my mommy too!” I let go of Tristan with one hand, and wrapped it around her, pulling her in for a group hug. “I am, Ivy. In all the ways that count, I am your mom. It isn’t blood that makes someone a mother, it’s how they care about you,” I dotted kisses all over the top of her head. The three of us continued to cry, clinging to each other. I was glad Tristan knew the truth, that they both did. Now, it would be easy to move on… I hoped.

“Why do we have to go?” Tristan stomped his feet as I tried to fix him in his dress clothes. I was losing my patience with him. I had been trying to get him ready for my mom’s funeral for the last twenty minutes and he was being impossible. “Because, she’s my mom and your grandma. It would be wrong not to go,” I explained, trying to get his pants on but he was wiggling too much. “She was mean! I don’t want to go!” “Tristan,” I warned. Somebody knocked on the door and Tristan scampered away, courtesy of my distraction. I groaned, rising to my feet, and striding across the small apartment to see who was there. I wasn’t surprised to find Trace standing there in a pair of black slacks and a white button down shirt. “Hey,” I ran my fingers through my hair to get the long strands out of my line of vision. “We’re not quite ready yet,” I pointed over my shoulder at the shrieking Tristan, who was running around in nothing but a pair of robot underwear. “Uncle Trace!” He shrieked, running towards the door. “Hey, buddy,” Trace bent down, scooping Tristan into his arms. “Dude,” he tickled my son’s stomach, “why are you naked?” “I’m not naked, silly,” Tristan giggled, “I’ve got my big boy underwear on.” “That you do,” Trace laughed, walking into the apartment. “I wish Dean wore those.” “But Dean’s a baby!” Tristan screamed exuberantly. “I still wish he didn’t poop himself,” Trace groaned, spinning Tristan through the air before dropping him on the couch, much to the boy’s delight. “Mommy! Uncle Trace said poop!” I dropped my head in my hands. I didn’t think Trace showing up was going to help things. “Yeah, yeah,” Trace groaned, reaching for the clothes on the floor that I’d been trying to wrestle Tristan into wearing. “It’s time to get you dressed.” “I don’t wanna!” Tristan tried to climb over the back of the couch, but Trace grabbed him. “You don’t want to dress all fancy like me?” Trace asked him. Tristan’s lips pursed in thought as he studied his uncle. “Well, okay.” “That’s what I thought,” Trace chuckled, helping Tristan into his clothes. I was already dressed and ready to go. So was Ivy. She’d been struggling with the fact that I was really Tristan’s mother, but not hers. Seeing as how I continued to treat them exactly the same as I did before the truth came out, she was coming around. Trace finally got Tristan dressed and then we had to go. After the coroner had performed an autopsy, they’d discovered my mom died from a lethal mix of

alcohol and drugs. I had obviously been ruled out a suspect then—if I really had been one. Trace’s family was paying for her funeral since I couldn’t afford it, and that pained me. I didn’t want them feeling obligated to help me, especially with something like this, but I’d had no choice but to let them. Outside, Olivia waited in their Land Rover, waving enthusiastically when she saw us leaving the apartment. I saw Dean in the back, banging his hand against the window and leaving smudged prints. “Thanks for doing this,” I whispered to Trace, “and thanks for coming here so we don’t have to go alone.” “We’re here for you,” Trace pulled me into a hug when we reached the end of the steps. “We’re your family. Don’t ever doubt that.” “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I confessed. Ever since things blew up with Trent and then again with my mom, Trace had become my savior. He looked out for the kids and me. It meant a lot to me—more than I could express, especially since I wasn’t the type to appreciate help. Trace had a way about him that made it so you couldn’t help but like him. I could see why Olivia fell for him. “We’ll see you there,” Trace smiled, getting in the Land Rover. I buckled Tristan into his booster seat and Ivy climbed into the spot beside him, buckling her seatbelt. I closed the back passenger door and stood outside for a moment. I inhaled the fresh spring hair, thankful that this late March weather was surprisingly warm. I needed that warmth on a day like today to blanket me in comfort. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I could do this. There was nothing to be afraid of. We were burying her today. That was it. Nothing bad was going to happen. She was gone. It was over. It was over; I repeated the thought. I wanted to cry out with joy. Today truly did mark the first day of the rest of my life. I got in the car, smiling at Tristan and Ivy as I looked back at them in the rearview mirror. “Everything is going to be okay,” I whispered. “I promise.” “I know,” Ivy smiled. I spoke to the kids about random things as I drove to the cemetery. I wanted to distract them from what we were about to face. They’d never had to deal with death before, and while neither of them missed the woman we’d all once called mom, I knew it would be a difficult experience full of curious questions. I hoped I was prepared. I parked behind Trace’s Land Rover and walked with the kids across the cemetery lawn to where I knew the casket would be waiting. Trace and Olivia were already there. I was shocked to see Ellie, Trent and Trace’s grandma, as well as their mom Lily. Lily held a squirming Dean, while Trace and Olivia stood a few feet away. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched Trace stare at his wife lovingly, his fingers stroking her small baby bump. I was touched by the gesture of them all being there. Trace was right. They were my family, and I needed to stop acting like an outsider. Tristan would forever be a part of their lives, which meant I would be too. My mouth fell open as disgust clogged my throat. Jim was there, dressed in stained black pants and a white t-shirt. There was nothing remotely nice about what he wore—not that it mattered, but I couldn’t believe he was daring to show his face here after what he’d tried to do to me. Besides, I didn’t think he’d ever loved my mom. They’d both used each other for different reasons, reasons I didn’t want to even contemplate. As I met the group, I refused to look at or acknowledge Jim. He was scum and didn’t deserve my time. Just looking at him was giving me the creeps. After today I’d never have to see the man again. I took my seat, which was unfortunately beside Jim, and settled the kids. The others sat down in the chairs behind us. I heard voices, and for a brief moment hope sparked and I believed that Trent had heard about my

mom and shown up. It wasn’t him, though. It was Jude and Tatum, making their way through the dewy grass. Tatum’s shoe got stuck and Jude grabbed ahold of her arm to keep her from falling. She leveled him with a glare, shouting something about not needing his help. Those two were ridiculous. “I’m glad you guys are here,” I stood to greet them, hugging each of them. I was overcome with a feeling of… completeness. Trace and Olivia were here, as were Ellie and Lily, and now with Jude and Tatum joining us, I realized that I wasn’t as alone as I’d always believed. I’d been so blinded by my mom’s hatred for me, that I didn’t think anyone else could ever care for me. I was wrong though. After about ten minutes, my grandparent’s arrived, and it was time to get the short ceremony underway. It didn’t take long. There wasn’t much to be said, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell lies for the sake of not speaking ill of the dead. The woman lying in that casket might have birthed me, but she was nothing to me. You have to earn love, and she’d never bothered to try. I’d been nothing but a hindrance to her, and then Tristan had become a way for her to trap and guilt me. She couldn’t do that anymore. It was harsh to say, but she’d gotten what was coming for her. We stood to place flowers on her casket one at a time. “Mommy,” Tristan tugged on the skirt of my dress. It warmed my heart that he’d had no hesitation in calling me mom instead of Row once I told him the truth. The little boy hadn’t even batted an eye. “What is it, baby?” I asked, looking down at him. “That man keeps staring at me,” he pointed towards a tree behind us, enough distance away that it was difficult to see, but there was no mistaking that form. My mouth parted with a gasp. Trenton. He knew and he was here. I dared to hope that a part of him still cared for me. In reality though, he was probably only here because of Tristan. “It’s okay,” I smiled at Tristan. “That’s your daddy.” Tristan’s blue eyes widened with surprise. “That’s my daddy?” He echoed my words back to me. “Yes,” my voice was soft as I played with the silky strands of his nearly blond hair. “Wow,” Tristan gasped. It was time for me to place my flower on the casket, so our conversation was cut short. When I stepped back in front of my chair I gasped as Jim’s hand found my butt. That dirty fucker— Trace cleared his throat, placing his hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Take your hand off of her now.” His tone spoke of dire consequences if Jim didn’t comply. Jim’s hand dropped from my butt and he stared ahead as if nothing had ever happened. When I looked back to where Trent had been standing, I saw his form retreating, his head bowed. I guessed he couldn’t stand to look at me any longer. I had to be okay though. I’d known this would happen and now that the truth was out there, there was nothing I could do. He knew of Tristan and he knew I loved him. I couldn’t keep fighting for something that was never going to happen. It was pointless. “Mommy?” Tristan asked. “Where’d the man go? I thought you said he was my daddy? Doesn’t he want to say hi to me?” Tristan’s words broke my already shattered heart into pieces that more closely resembled dust than shards. I bent so I was at his level—I always hated towering above him when I spoke. “I know he wants to say hi to you,” I rubbed his cheek, noting the tears shimmering in his blue eyes, “but he can’t right now. Okay?” Tristan nodded. “Is he going to live with us?” “No, sweetie,” I kissed his forehead. “He’s not. One day, when you’re older, you’ll understand this better.” Tristan tilted his head, shrugging his small shoulders and that was that. Kids could let things roll off them better than adults could. They didn’t understand the harsh sting of rejection. “Come on, Tristan,” Trace reached for the boy. “Want a piggyback ride?” “Yay!” Tristan shrieked in delight as Trace hoisted him onto his back. It should have been Trent doing that, not Trace, but I was still thankful for the gesture. Ivy’s hand clasped in mine and I glanced down at her. She looked so much older than an eight year old, more like a teenager. Her light hair was long, curling down her back, and her hazel eyes were wide and expressive. She looked like a miniature version of me. I knew we both had different dads—

like mine, hers hadn’t stuck around—so we both inherited our looks from our mom. I had seen pictures of my mom when she was younger, and she had been beautiful, but her attitude and lifestyle had turned her into an ugly person. Trace ran towards the cars, with Tristan’s arms wrapped around his neck in a stranglehold. Tristan’s giggle carried back to us with the breeze. It made me smile watching Tristan interact with his uncle. Ivy peered up at me as we walked along. Olivia was beside us with Dean propped on her hip. Ivy didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was thinking really hard about something. She was a lot like me in that way. We were both deep thinkers who rarely spoke our thoughts out loud. She stopped walking and I halted with her. She bit her lip, looking around, and I knew she was nervous to ask whatever was on her mind. “What is it, Ivy?” I prodded. “You can ask me anything, you know that.” She nodded, but still didn’t say anything. After a moment of thought, she looked up at me. “Are you really going to be able to keep me?” She squeaked. “Tristan’s your kid, but I’m not,” she frowned. “I don’t want them to take me away from you,” tears pricked her hazel eyes. “I don’t want to be a foster kid.” “Oh, Ivy,” I crushed her to my chest, “I will never let anyone take you from me,” I vowed. I knew the night my mom died that this was a thought weighing heavily on Ivy’s mind. “You have nothing to worry about,” I assured her, smoothing my fingers through her soft hair. She nodded, but the look in her eyes told me she didn’t quite believe me. That was okay, though, because soon enough I’d be able to prove her wrong. I wasn’t going to let anyone take the kids from me—not that I thought they’d try. I was an adult, I had a roof over their heads, and I made enough money to support them. The court had no reason to find someone more suitable. Trace unwound Tristan’s arms from around his neck and lowered the little boy to the ground. Tristan ran to me, jumping up and down excitedly, asking if he could ride in Trace’s car. He was completely unaffected by the fact that we’d just been by the side of a dead person. “Uh…” I looked up at Trace. “It’s fine,” he grinned crookedly. “Why don’t we all head to my mom’s place for an early dinner? Your grandparents, Jude, and Tatum can come too.” He leaned against the side of his large black SUV with his arms crossed over his chest. I thought it over for a moment. I hated to be a burden, but I really didn’t want to be alone right now. Besides, he’d extended an invitation. “Sure,” I replied. “Yay!” Tristan shrieked, running into his uncle’s arms. It amazed me how quickly Tristan had embraced Trace—but at his age, the kid never met a stranger. I removed Tristan’s booster seat from the car and put it in Trace’s. I buckled him in while Trace tended to Dean. Ivy had already gotten in my car. I let Jude and Tatum know what we were doing and that they were welcome to join us. They both seemed unsure if they should or not. They knew the truth about Tristan now. Neither had said much to me about it, but I knew it shocked them. My grandparents had been stunned when I told them the truth about Tristan. I noticed they’d already left. I knew they were hurt that I hadn’t confided in them about my son and how horrible my mom was. They’d been relatively clueless to her actions. They’d known she drank, but not that she hit me. As I sat behind the driver’s seat and prepared to leave, my eyes landed on the parking lot across form the funeral home. A very familiar black car was parked there and a shiver ran up my spine. Even though he was so far away, and I couldn’t see him through the tinted windows, I felt his eyes on me. It was like his gaze alone was a caress. “Row, they’re leaving,” Ivy warned, snapping me back to reality. I put the car in drive, following Trace’s large black SUV so that I didn’t get lost on the way to the mansion. My body hummed with a nervous energy, wondering if Trent would show up. A part of me hoped he did, and another part hoped he didn’t. I wasn’t ready to face him yet, after I told him I loved him and he did nothing. In fact, I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to face him. I felt like everything had been said between us and there was nothing left. “You look sad,” Ivy remarked from the backseat. “Is it because of mom?” “No,” I answered, probably too quickly considering it was my mom who was dead and I should feel a tiny bit remorseful. “Then what is it?” She asked.

Ivy was far too observant for her own good. “It’s nothing,” I replied. I didn’t need to go into details with her of the fuckedupness of my life. Ivy’s plump pink lips turned down in a frown and her fingers clasped together as I watched her briefly from the rearview mirror. Her gaze left me and she propped her head on one hand as she looked out the window. I knew she was mad that I wasn’t telling her what was wrong with me. But she was eight years old. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell her, but more my need to keep her a child. I’d had to grow up fast, and I didn’t want the same fate for her. Unfortunately, I was afraid it had already happened. Unless you’ve experienced it, you didn’t understand what growing up in a household like ours did to a person. You constantly had to live in fear of doing or saying the wrong thing. My mother—as far as I knew—had never laid a hand on Ivy or Tristan, but she had hit me in front of them on more than one occasion. If I had left, what would have stopped her from taking her anger out on one of them? When we turned down the narrow drive that led to the mansion Ivy sat up straighter. “Where are we?” “This is where Trace and his brother grew up,” I answered. “Why don’t you ever say his brother’s name?” She commented, peering around the seat at me. “Is it because he’s Tristan’s dad?” Since Trace was constantly hanging around, and wanted to be a part of Tristan’s life, I’d been forced to tell both of the kids about Trenton. It had been hard, especially because Tristan didn’t understand. “You miss him, don’t you?” She continued when I didn’t answer. I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “Yeah,” I squeaked. She nodded, tapping her fingers against the glass window. “Why don’t you tell him that?” “It’s complicated,” I ground out—not angry with her, but at myself, because I still cared. “When you love someone, it shouldn’t be that complicated,” her hazel eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. Leave it to an eight year old to be wiser than most adults. “Whoa!” She bounced excitedly in her seat as the mansion came into view. “This is a house?!” She exclaimed, her eyes round with awe. “Yeah,” I replied, parking the car. “It looks like something from a movie!” I couldn’t help laughing, but she was right. The large house didn’t seem like it could possibly be real, and once you got inside, that seemed even truer. It was so easy to get lost in there. As we followed the Wentworth’s inside, Tristan and Ivy both looked around with their mouths hanging open. “Wow,” Tristan gasped. “Can we live here?” I laughed, ruffling his hair as we entered the foyer, heading for the dining room. “We have a home.” “I like this one more,” he pouted. “You can visit anytime you want,” Trace piped in. “We have a pool… two actually.” “Two pools?” Ivy exclaimed, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she muttered, looking nervously at the shiny floors. Ivy had been very shy around Trace and his family—she was a cautious person—so her outburst clearly embarrassed her. “Yep!” Trace clapped his hands together, before pushing open the door to the dining room. “They’re great!” Ivy’s smile was small as she tried to hide behind me. I think Trace’s exuberance always frightened her. She wasn’t used to someone like him. We sat down at the table, and I wasn’t surprised when Tristan stole the seat beside Trace. Tristan thought he was the most amazing person ever. If only he knew his dad. I doubted Trent was going to reach out to me, and with my mom out of the picture, I knew I should contact him and let him see Tristan. I was scared he had changed his mind and wanted nothing to do with our son. So, I hadn’t done anything. Someone I didn’t recognize brought out a meal that had already been prepared in anticipation of our arrival. My eyes widened at the delicious looking grilled chicken sandwich. My stomach rumbled. I hadn’t even realized I was hungry until food was set in front of me. “This looks yummy,” Ivy smiled shyly at the people seated around us. “I hope you think it tastes as good as it looks,” Lily smiled back. It amazed me how Lily, Trent’s mom, had embraced Ivy, Tristan, and me. I thought she’d hate me for

what I did, but she never looked at me like it mattered. She was always nice and went out of her way to look after us. Despite the fact that Ivy was of no relation to her, she seemed to genuinely want to get to know her and make her feel comfortable. The Wentworth’s were truly the greatest people I had ever met. They didn’t let their status affect them, and it was a beautiful thing to see. I took a bite of the sandwich and my eyes closed. That had to be the greatest thing I had ever tasted. I wish I could cook that well. “It’s as good as it looks,” Ivy said after she’d taken a bite, causing all of us to chuckle. Her cheeks flamed pink and I bent my mouth to her ear to whisper, “It’s okay, Ivy. You didn’t say anything wrong. It was cute.” She nodded, but didn’t speak again through the rest of the meal. I kept waiting for Trenton to appear, but he never did. I wasn’t sure whether I should be relieved or disappointed. I guessed it didn’t matter.

Hours later I had Tristan and Ivy put to bed and was crawling into bed myself. I was exhausted after today. Attending the funeral and seeing Trent had really taken a toll on me. I’d tried not to show it, but now that I was alone, I let my face crumple. I didn’t cry, but I did allow myself to hurt and that counted for something. For so long I had kept my feelings on a tight leash, not allowing myself to feel any emotion. I had been dead inside. Like he had when we were teenagers, Trent had woken me up and broken down all my carefully constructed walls. He hadn’t meant to, but he taught me it was okay to feel. We’re human. It’s okay to be happy, sad, or angry. It’s a part of life. I had allowed my mom to make me into a drone —always going through the motions where nothing could hurt me. I had been wrong to let her do that, but it had been my coping mechanism. It would be easy, almost too easy, to allow myself to fall back into that destructive pattern of not feeling. I was fighting it though. I was trying really hard to let myself feel—to hurt. I was realizing that emotions aren’t a bad thing. Passion isn’t wrong. What is wrong is when you let those feelings build up and you lash out. I always thought that if I let myself feel too much I’d end up like mother. I never wanted to hurt anyone the way she hurt me—her words more cutting than her fists. I wanted to be a better person and this was me trying.

A vicious pounding woke me up. I came awake quickly, sleep slipping away like a loose blanket around my shoulders. A quick glance at the clock told me it was after one in the morning. I had no clue what kind of crazy person could be at out door at this time of night. I grabbed my phone so I could dial 911 if I needed to. Ivy and Tristan had been awakened by the noise and both looked at me blearily as they rubbed their eyes. “What’s that noise?” Tristan asked. “Why’s somebody at the door?” Ivy questioned, stifling a yawn. “I don’t know,” I frowned. “Just stay there,” I warned, holding my hand out in a gesture for her not to leave the bed, “and keep quiet.” I typed 911 into my phone and held my finger over the dial button. There was no peephole, so I would

be forced to open the door to see who was there. I suddenly wished I had some pepper spray or a gun. I was utterly defenseless and at the mercy of the person on the other side of the door. “Rowan! Open the door!” I knew that voice. I threw the door open. “Trace,” I gasped as relief flooded my lungs at hearing his voice and then seeing him, “what are you doing here?” “We have to go,” he spoke quickly, his eyes darting around. “Get the kids, we have to go now.” His body hummed with a nervous energy. “What’s going on?” I drilled him as he pushed past me into the apartment. He ignored me. “Come on, kids,” he reached for Tristan on the top bunk, “we have to go. Grab some toys. Rowan,” he called to me, “you might want to get dressed.” “Where are you taking us?” I asked, panic lacing my tone. He was so frantic—not like Trace at all— and I couldn’t begin to fathom why. He acted like the place was about to blow up or something. He finally stopped, and that’s when I saw the tears in his eyes. “What’s going on?” I repeated in a soft tone, backing away, my hands braced protectively in front of me. Something told me I wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “It’s Trent,” he sighed, his voice cracking. “Is he okay?” I asked, my breath catching as my heart clenched painfully behind my ribcage. Oh God, something bad had happened. I knew it. I could feel Trent slipping through my fingers like a fistful of sand. “Get dressed and then we’ll talk,” he turned away from me, grabbing up some of the kids toys. I rushed into the bedroom, dressing as quickly as I could. I’m pretty sure my socks didn’t even match. When I left the room, the apartment was empty. I rushed outside, my fingers fumbling as I locked the door. Trace was waiting in the Land Rover, he tapped the horn, urging me to hurry. I ran down the steps and into the empty passenger seat. Olivia wasn’t with him. “Please, tell me what’s happened,” I implored as I fumbled with the seatbelt. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” He nodded, the muscle in his jaw visibly tightening. “He confronted your step-dad and he shot Trent.” “Oh, God.” I hadn’t expected Trace to be so blunt with what he said, but I should’ve known, that was Trace—no sugarcoating. I doubled over, my stomach clenching painfully. “I think I’m going to be sick,” I mumbled, sweat breaking out across my forehead as bile rose in my throat. I had expected something like Trent had been in a car wreck, not that he’d been shot. “It’s not good,” Trace continued, his body taut with tension, “my mom just got the call, so of course she rang me, and I came to get you. He’s been in surgery for several hours,” he rubbed his stubbled jaw angrily. “And they just now called you?” I gasped. Trent, my Trent, he’d been alone this long, fighting for his life? That wasn’t right! Trace nodded. “He didn’t have his phone on him, only his wallet, so it took them a while to track us down. Our numbers aren’t exactly listed publicly.” “Is he going to make it through the surgery?” I forced the words out of my mouth, terrified of the answer he might give me. “Honestly?” Trace asked, his eyes venturing to mine before returning to the road ahead. “They said it was a fifty/fifty chance. The bullet barely missed a vital artery in his heart, and he’s lost a lot of blood.” Trace’s breath turned shaky. “We’ll know more once we get there.” In the back of the car, the kids were sniffling as they cried, but I couldn’t make myself shower them in words of comfort. I was numb once more, drowning in an ocean of pain and solitude. I was going to lose him—I already had, but this was worse, because this was forever. Everything was a blur as we arrived at the emergency entrance of the hospital. I forced myself to stay calm and follow Trace. Inside, he asked the information desk about his brother and they directed us to the correct floor—the intensive care unit. This was so fucking bad. My hands shook with panic. I couldn’t imagine a world in which Trenton Wentworth didn’t exist. Thoughts of him consumed me—his smile, his laugh, the first time he over spoke with me, every memory flitted through my mind in rapid succession.

We rushed through the wide white halls, our shoes squeaking on the tile floors. Ivy and Tristan each held onto my hands, as I all but dragged them along. We burst through the set of double doors and into the main hallway of intensive care. “Trace,” his mom breathed in relief when she saw us. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She looked horrible, and that scared me. Had she gotten bad news? Was he gone? Were we too late? I released the kids’ hands and dashed into the bathroom I spotted to my right. The door slammed closed behind me as I fell to my knees and emptied the contents of my stomach. Tears stung my eyes, one trailing down my cheek and under my chin. I felt like my whole world was crumbling around me. I’d always prided myself with being okay. I had always been able to cope with bad things, but this was something I wasn’t prepared to handle. I flushed the toilet and cleaned myself up, wiping my face free of tears. I kept making a strange stuttering gasping sound as I tried to hold back more tears. I couldn’t fucking breathe. I clutched the fabric of my shirt in my hand as I forced myself to calm down. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Calm down, Rowan, I warned myself. You need to be strong. But the last thing I could be in this moment was strong. I’d thought I’d escaped the hold of my mother and Jim, but it had all been a façade. I could never escape them. Jim had managed to take away something that mattered dearly to me. Trent might not have liked me at all anymore, but I took comfort in knowing he was out there somewhere thriving. If he didn’t make it through this… I was pretty damn sure he’d take a piece of my soul with him. I loved him. God, I loved him so much that it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest and stomped on. I reached for more paper towels, drying my still damp face. I couldn’t stop the tears. I knew I needed to get myself under control before I left the sanctuary of the restroom. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I wasn’t okay. This wasn’t okay. Nothing about the fact that Trent was here, fighting for his life, was okay. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I took deep breaths, inhaling in through my mouth and out through my nose. I needed to get my shit together and be strong. Breaking down like this wasn’t going to help Trent. I turned the water on, splashing the cool liquid onto my face. My eyes were swollen and red from crying. I didn’t care though. I no longer saw tears as a sign of weakness, but of strength. I took a few more calming breaths to make sure I was ready to face this. I opened the bathroom door and looked down the hall. Trace was waiting for me and he waved me forward. With my head bowed, like a child in trouble, I hesitantly stopped in front of him. “The kids are with my mom,” he pointed over his shoulder to the waiting room before continuing, “he’s out of surgery now.” Trace hesitated, his eyes filled with pain. I had only ever seen the guy happy and smiling, so seeing him like this was shocking. “He’s not in the clear yet though. There’s still plenty that could go wrong.” “He’s no going to make it, is he?” I forced myself to ask, my lower lip trembling. “I don’t think so,” Trace’s voice cracked and tears began to spill from his eyes. He looked up at the ceiling, clearly hating that I was seeing him break down like this. I found myself stepping forward that last little bit and wrapping my arms around his torso. My ear was pressed against his chest where I could hear his heart racing with panic and anger at the thought of losing his brother. My tears soaked the fabric of his shirt as he lifted his arms to wrap them around me. “This hurts so bad,” I confessed, my voice thick from my tears. I sniffled, trying to hold them back, but it was pointless. “I know it does,” his voice shook. “I almost lost Olivia once, so I know exactly how you feel right now, and it’s the worst feeling in the whole world.” I hadn’t known that, but now wasn’t the time to ask questions about Olivia and his past. Right now, our focus needed to be on Trent. “I fucking hate this hospital,” Trace groaned, his voice muffled by my hair.

“Why?” I asked. “This is where they brought Olivia, then Gramps passed… although, the stubborn old man made them release him so he could die at home,” I felt Trace crack a small smile but it quickly crumbled, “and now Trent’s here, fighting for his life. If it wasn’t for the fact that Dean was born here,” he said, pulling away and I let my arms drop to my sides, “this place would only hold bad memories for me.” “Your family has really bad luck,” I remarked, trying to bring some light to the situation, but it was pointless. I knew we both felt like falling apart. “Yeah, something like that,” he muttered, glaring at the tiled floor. We stood there a few moments longer before joining his mom and the kids in the waiting room. I felt like I didn’t deserve to be there. After what I had done they should’ve hated me, not embraced me like family. Tristan sat on Lily’s lap and she talked to him, forcing a smile here and there for his benefit. I settled into the uncomfortable plastic chair, figuring we’d be waiting awhile before we knew anything. Trace took the seat beside me, resting his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. Ivy was seated in the other chair next to me and laid her head on my shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Row,” she looked up at me with innocent hazel eyes, “love conquers anything, right? Even death?” God, I wished that was true. I nodded for her benefit as I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. If I slept, maybe I could convince myself that this was all merely a nightmare.

Hours later, with no sleep, a doctor finally appeared in the doorway. “He’s awake now… if you’d like to see him.” The hesitation his voice destroyed what hope was left inside me. His tone said, you might want to say your goodbyes now. “Mom and I will go first,” Trace whispered, grasping the chair arms and using it to heave himself to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head, cracking his back. He reached for his mom, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they followed the doctor. Tristan crawled into my lap, burrowing his head under my neck. “What’s going on, mommy?” He asked, lovingly stroking my hair. Even at five years old he could sense the tension in my body and was trying to relieve it. “Trent—your dad—has been hurt,” I whispered. It pained me to say those words. “Is he going to be okay? Can I say hi?” Tristan looked up at me with wide eyes. “I don’t know,” I answered, kissing the top of his head, his hair soft against my lips. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, closing my eyes as I rested my head on top of his. All my regrets were piling on top of me in this moment and I felt like I was suffocating. Because of what I had done, Trent had missed out on being a part of Tristan’s life, and now Tristan might never get to know his dad. I had been horrible and selfish to make the decision I did without telling Trent. I had been so young and stupid. Now, I was suffering the consequences. I should have been the one in there fighting for my life, not Trent. I didn’t want to lose him. Even if he didn’t belong to me, and I’d have to watch him love someone else eventually, I’d rather deal with that pain than this. I hummed under my breath, rocking Tristan in my arms. Tristan took a piece of my hair and twisted it around his finger. “It will be okay, mommy,” he whispered in his sweet voice. “I hope so.” I felt tears sting my eyes once more. I didn’t know how someone could keep crying like this. Eventually you had to run out of tears, right? Trace and his mom returned ten minutes later, their faces pale. “He wants to talk to you,” Trace said, his eyes refusing to meet mine.

My stomach rolled with nausea once more. “I’ll be right back,” I told Tristan, lifting him off my lap. He went scampering up to Trace, asking him a bunch of questions. “Tristan,” I warned, “leave Uncle Trace alone right now. He’s upset. Maybe you could give him a hug and make him feel better?” I suggested, knowing Tristan would like it if I gave him a task to perform. Tristan nodded, wrapping his arms around Trace’s legs. Trace reached down and picked him up, and his cries pained me. I wasn’t sure I could do this. If Trace was breaking down like this, things didn’t bode well for me. The doctor was waiting to lead me back. His face was grim, so I let my eyes follow the lines of the tile as he took me to Trent. He opened a door and nodded his head for me to go inside. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. I knew that once I got a look at Trent—at what was my fault—what was left of me would finally shatter completely. I was that broken vase that kept being fixed in vain, only to topple off the table and break again. Eventually, the pieces grew too small to fit back together. I took one step further into the room, then another, until I stood beside Trent’s bed. His eyes were closed and his skin was a sickish gray color. Where the front of his hospital gown dipped down I saw a white bandage over his heart. I bit down on my fist to stifle my sobs. This was my fault. All because of my stupid step-dad, I was going to lose the love of my life. My body was so full of hate at that man, and myself, that I thought it might obliterate me. Trent’s eyes slowly blinked open and I wrapped my arms around myself so that I didn’t try to touch him. He wasn’t mine and I knew the last thing he wanted was for me to be here. “Don’t.” He swallowed, wincing at the dryness in his throat. “Cry.” “I can’t help it,” I wiped the tears away, looking out the windows where the sun was beginning to come up. It pained me to see him lying there so… battered. Trent had always been full of life, and seeing that stripped away from him was heartbreaking. I had done nothing but ruin his life from the moment I entered it. He would’ve been better off if he’d never met me. “L-look at me,” he stuttered. Unable to deny him his request, I did. We stared at each other, neither of us saying a word. “Come. Here.” He forced the words out, trying to scoot over to give me room in the bed. “No,” I grabbed his hand. “Don’t hurt yourself.” His eyes closed with tiredness and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed painfully. It tore me apart to see him hurt so badly. I felt so helpless. I had no idea what to do or say to make any of this better. “I’m an idiot,” he forced the words out. “Because you got shot? Yeah, you’re an idiot,” I made myself laugh to lighten the situation. “No,” he shook his head, wincing in pain, “for letting you go.” My breath caught and I didn’t know what to say. “I should’ve gone after you that day.” His forehead wrinkled with effort as he spoke. “Trent,” I pleaded, “don’t talk. Please, don’t strain yourself.” “I need to say this,” he continued, his light blue eyes connecting with mine. They seemed so alert and alive—not like he was fighting for his life. He stared up at me and I couldn’t help but feel like he was making some deathbed confession. “I love you, Rowan,” he wet his lips. “I’ve tried so hard to hate you, but I can’t. I fucking can’t. Every time I close my eyes I see you,” his hand gave mine a light squeeze, and it didn’t escape me how weak his grasp was. “I see our son. I see the life we could have together. You’re it for me, Row. I know we have a shit ton of problems to work out, but that’s okay. We’re a family.” “Trenton,” I shook my head, tears pooling in my eyes, “you don’t mean that. It’s only the drugs talking.” I knew he had to be on some major painkillers and they’d clearly made him loopy. “It’s not—” he winced in pain. “It’s not the drugs. I was coming to see you tonight, but um,” he looked

down at his chest and the bandage winking at us. “I kinda got shot.” Only Trenton could crack jokes after a gunshot wound. “Are you sure?” I whispered, daring to hope that he loved me enough that we could move past this, and letting myself believe he was going to be fine. He nodded. “I’ve loved you since I was sixteen and nothing can ever make me stop. Once you stole my heart, it belonged to you and only you.” “You’re such a cheese ball,” I cracked a smile—a genuine one as I remembered saying something similar to him months ago. “That’s me, I like cheese,” he joked, smiling half-heartedly. “Now,” he started sliding over, “since I got shot protecting your honor and all, I think you owe me.” “I’m not having sex with you in a hospital,” I gasped, appalled that he’d suggest such a thing after everything he’d been through. “Especially after you just had surgery! You’re not in the clear yet, Trent,” my voice cracked painfully. He rolled his eyes at me. “Who said anything about sex, Row? I’m tired, but I don’t want you to go. Lay with me, please,” he begged, and when he looked at me like that I was unable to resist the temptation. I climbed into bed beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. I kept waiting for one of the nurses to bust in here and make me leave, but no one came. He reached over, wincing with the effort, and placed his hand on my stomach. I was about to ask him what he was doing when those pretty baby blues lifted to meet my gaze. “I should have been there for you. I should’ve been able to see my child grow inside you and take care of both of you.” A sadness lingered in his eyes at what he had missed out on. “I know,” I squeaked. “I understand why you did it,” his eyes never wavered from mine, “and I’m ready to forgive you. I’m ready to move past this.” I nodded. I wanted nothing more than that, but I was afraid tomorrow might never come for us. He was lying here dying. I knew he was a fighter, though, so I had to believe he’d pull through this for me —for our family. “Why the hell did you go after my step-dad, Trent?” I questioned, staring up at the crinkled white ceiling. Everything in here was white and sterile. Trent coughed, his breath wheezing with effort. “I-I saw him touch you,” he admitted, slowly turning his head to look at me. I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn’t seem to stop looking at the ceiling. “He’s a fucking p-piece of shit and I wasn’t going to l-let him get away with that,” his words ended with another strangled cough. I made myself look at him then, my brow furrowing with worry. “Are you okay?” He nodded, his hand over his mouth as he stifled the cough. “Do you know what happened to my step-dad?” I asked softly, reaching over to stroke his cheek. His eyes closed in response and he made a pleased humming noise in the back of his throat. “Did the police get him? He’s not on the loose is he?” “After he shot me he took off running and that’s the last thing I remember,” Trent said sleepily. “Don’t worry, though. Trace will take care of everything.” “Yeah,” I yawned, feeling sleepy too as the days events caught up with me, “he’s good like that.” “Should I be worried you’re falling for my brother?” Trent’s lips brushed against my forehead. “You know he’s married.” I laughed. “No,” I kissed his cheek, “there’s only one Wentworth brother for me and he’s right here.” “Good,” Trent murmured. “I love you.” “I love you, Trent,” I whispered, kissing his jaw. “Thank you for teaching me that love isn’t a myth. It’s real and we have it.”

I was awakened by a shrill noise. It pierced my eardrums, making me flinch. What the heck was that? I sat up, blinking sleep from my eyes as the bland hospital room came into view. The doors to the room burst open and someone pulled me from the bed. “He’s flat lining!” Was all I heard as doctors and nurses bustled about in a flurry of activity.

I stared in horror at the lifeless body lying in the bed. My hand came up to cover my mouth as sobs raked my body. “Trent!” I screamed as a nurse tried to pull me out of the room. “Trent!” I screamed his name over and over again—at least it felt like it. “Come back to me! Trenton! Please! You can’t leave me! Trent!” But the line stayed flat. The nurse shoved me out the door and slammed it in my face. I pounded on the small glass window in the door, which was covered in black paper so that no one could see in. I continued to shout his name until I lost my voice and felt like I couldn’t breathe. Eventually I left, unable to stay there and continue to hear the high-pitched shriek of his heart not beating. I didn’t quite make it back to the waiting room. I guess my feet decided to stop working. I sunk to the ground, my back against the wall. My wails filled the halls. I didn’t care who heard me or who saw me. I couldn’t stop them. I needed to let it all out. I couldn’t keep this pain bottled inside me as I was tormented with one thought… Everyone leaves me. I pulled at my hair, kicking my feet against the floor. My cries began to draw attention. I saw Trace come out of the waiting room to investigate the noise, and when his eyes landed on me his mouth fell open in horror. I shook my head, my throat clogged with tears, to tell him that Trent hadn’t made it. Tears streamed from his eyes as he shoved his fingers through his hair, making it stick up wildly around his head. He looked back at the waiting room and then at me. I watched as he walked a little ways down that hall from me. He reared his hand back and it shot forward, punching the wall repeatedly. His anger and sadness was palpable. A male nurse came running towards him and restrained Trace so he couldn’t do any more damage to his hand. They led him away—no doubt to clean it up, and maybe even stitch the wound closed. It made me think of the injury to my hand on New Year’s Eve—when Trent had so tenderly taken care of me. It had been our last night together. It was sweet and perfect and over far too soon. Here we were four months later. He’d found out the truth and now he was dead. Fuck. Dead. He was gone. Like, really gone. As in never coming back gone. My heart hurt and my soul felt incomplete. How on Earth could I be expected to live the rest of my life without him? I’d have to. I was going to have to take every day one step at a time. I’d live and love that much harder, because Trenton couldn’t. He’d always live on in our son. And in my heart.

Three months later… The warm summer breeze tickled my face and I couldn’t help smiling as I closed my eyes, lying back in the tall grass. It scratched my skin, making me itch, but the sun felt so good on my body that I refused to move. I felt so peaceful—something that had been rare in the past few months. I reached out, smiling as I pulled a dandelion from the dirt. “Row!” Ivy yelled and I sat up to see her running towards me. She crashed into my arms and then fell to the ground giggling. “What are you doing, silly girl?” I asked her. “Where’s Tristan?” “He’s fine,” she shrugged, looking around. “I like it here. It’s pretty.” “Mhmm,” I hummed. “It’s like a little oasis.” As if she didn’t hear me, she smiled widely, pointing to the flowers surrounding us. “Can you make me one of those braided crown thingies with flowers?” “I’ll try,” I grinned, picking the flowers surrounding us. “It’s been a long time since I’ve made one of these.” Ivy sat down beside me, crossing her legs as she watched my movements. I finished the crown and laid it delicately on top her head. “Now, you’re a real princess, Ivy,” I ran my fingers through her long wavy hair. She beamed at my words. Since my mom died, Ivy had really come out of her shell. She was always so happy and smiling. She thrived on words of praise and I tried to give them to her as often as I could. “Now, you need one, Row,” she stood, skipping around to gather more flowers. “Then you can be a Queen!” I laughed, adjusting the skirt of my dress. Once she’d gathered enough flowers she sat down once more. “Can I help make this one?” She asked. “Of course,” I carefully showed her how to braid the stems together. In no time she had it mastered and I let her finish it. When it was done, she placed it on my head in the same manner I had done hers. “All hail Queen Rowan!” She squealed, jumping up and running in circles around me. I laughed, turning my head to watch her run. I marveled at how much a few months of not being in a toxic environment had changed her. She wasn’t as timid and shy anymore. She was blossoming, and so was I. For the first time in all my life I finally felt like… me. I was no longer a ghost, drifting through the shadows. Trent had given me that gift, and I was thankful for it every day. I’d done a lot of growing since New Year’s when Trent found out about Tristan. With the loss of my mom, it had been easy for me to become the person I was always meant to be. She couldn’t harass me

anymore, and Jim was serving life in prison for what he’d done to Trent. Life wasn’t perfect for me, not by a long shot, but it was getting there. Ivy skipped through the field, picking wildflowers and arranging them into two bouquets. When she deemed them perfect, she returned to my side, handing me one. “For you, my Queen,” she giggled, her cheeks rosy with happiness. “Thank you, Princess,” I took the flowers from her, inhaling their scent—then trying not to sneeze. She twirled some more, her dress fanning out around her legs. “Oh, look!” She pointed towards the back of the Wentworth mansion. “Here comes the King and Prince now!” I smiled, enjoying her little game. All I had wanted for so long was for her and Tristan to have the opportunity to be children. I’d finally gotten my wish. “Mommy!” Tristan cried, running straight for me, much like Ivy had when she’d found me hiding out back here. I liked the shade and privacy that the tall grasses provided. When I was here, in this spot, I felt like I was in a new place all together. There was something magical about this place. Once the weather had warmed I’d claimed this area as mine since I had been spending so much time with the Wentworth’s. Lily and I had grown close, and she was beginning to feel like the mother I never had. Tristan collapsed onto the ground beside me, his chest heaving with every labored breath from his long run. “What’s that you’ve got there?” I pointed to the leather bound book in his small hand. “Daddy told me to give it to you,” he smiled proudly, holding out the book for me. My eyes raised, connecting with Trent’s as he approached. God, he was beautiful. He wore a pair of long tan colored pants, and a white t-shirt. He grinned as he caught me staring at him. I stared at him a lot. I had almost lost him that day in the hospital. I always had to remind myself that he was here and he was alive. Trent reached us and sat down beside me. He draped an arm over my shoulder, kissing my cheek. I took the book from Tristan’s outstretched hand. Ivy reached for him, and the two took off running through the field, their laughter dancing through the air. “Open it,” Trent murmured, his lips grazing my ear. I shivered at his touch, my body humming. I opened the book to the marked page, a breath escaping my lips. The emerald green ribbon that had been used as a bookmark had a ring tied around it, and written on the page in Trenton’s scrawling handwriting was: Will you marry me? “Trent,” I gasped, my hand flying up to cover my lips. I was shocked, to say the least, but I should have seen this coming. After Trenton was released from the hospital, we had talked through things, and pieced ourselves back together. It hadn’t taken long for us to become a family. Trent and I already loved each other— and after countless hours of talking, of me telling him everything I’d been through since I was a child, we’d been able to move past what I had done by keeping Tristan a secret. Things had settled into normalcy for us the past few months and it felt like we’d always been a family, not like this was anything new. Trent showered Tristan and Ivy with love and a father’s affection, even though Ivy wasn’t his. He was the greatest man there ever was, I was sure of that. After he’d been shot, things had been touch and go for a few weeks, but he’d healed. He’d had to drop out of college since he wasn’t fit to go back. He said that he didn’t need his degree; he had enough schooling to open his own photography studio and go from there. “Rowan,” his voice was hesitant. “Say something, please.” “Yes,” I gasped, my cheeks flushed with happiness. “Yes, yes, yes!” I let the book fall off my lap, and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. His tongue found the seam of my lips, slipping inside. I moaned in pleasure as my fingers grasped the soft strands of his hair. “Ew!” Tristan exclaimed. “That’s disgusting! Bleh,” he made a face, “kissing is gross!” With a laugh, Trent pulled away, swiping his thumb over his lips. He reached down, untying the diamond engagement ring from the ribbon. I held my hand out for him and he slipped the ring on.

His eyes filled with satisfaction as he stared at the ring glimmering on my finger. His fingers tangled into my hair, cupping the back of my neck as he pulled my lips to his, kissing me sweetly. Breathing rapidly, he rested his forehead against mine as he stared straight into my eyes so that I was powerless to look away. “You’re mine now, Rowan Sinclair,” his voice was husky and his eyes sparkled with mischief. I brought my hand up against his where he cupped my cheek. “Always.”

COMING SUMMER 2014 from Micalea Smeltzer Beauty in the Ashes

SAVING TATUM © Copyright 2014 Micalea Smeltzer All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover design and photography by Regina Wamba at Mae I Design Formatting by Inkstain Interior Book Designing

I JOLTED AWAKE at the sound of someone trying to beat down our front door. I sat straight up, the blankets pooling at my waist. My head twisted to look at the blinking orange numbers flashing on the clock beside my bed. Three in the morning.  Fear slithered down my spine like a serpent.  Nothing good came from someone at your door that early in the morning.  I heaved my tired body out of bed. My muscles were stiff and overworked from a rigorous cheerleading practice the night before.  I opened my bedroom door and poked my head out. I saw my mom and dad coming out of their bedroom. A baseball bat was clutched in my dad’s hand. What did he think he was going to do to an intruder with that? Knock them out? Besides, if someone was trying to break in, why would they be knocking on the door? “Stay up here, Tatie,” my dad warned in a stern voice, quietly tiptoeing down the steps. My mom followed him even though he warned her to stay put as well. I kept watch on the door.  My dad looked through the peephole and muttered, “What the hell?” Swinging it open, I saw red and blue flashing lights and an officer stood at our door. I rolled my eyes. The neighbor’s kids were probably vandalizing again.  I was about to close my door and get back in bed when I heard the officer speak.  “Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor?” He asked. He was young and nervous, obviously new to the police force. “That’s us,” my dad answered, “is there a problem?” The officer shifted nervously, clearly not wanting to talk.  Finally he found the courage to speak—to deliver the most devastating news I could imagine. “It’s about your son, there’s been an accident. I’m so sorry to tell you this, but he didn’t make it.” His face was somber, eyes downcast. My mom let out a piercing, soul-crushing wail, and started to fall. My dad’s arm held her upright. But there was no one there to hold me up.  I crumbled to the floor, clutching at my chest.  I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating under the pressure. He didn’t make it. He was dead. My big brother—my best friend—was gone.  “I’m sorry,” I heard the officer say one more time before my dad closed the door. His cries soon joined the sound of my mother’s.  Tears streamed down my face, but my sobs were silent.  Graham was gone. In a matter of hours he’d been ripped from my life forever. I’d just seen him at dinner and we’d been talking about school and how I’d be cheering at the football game on Friday. He was telling me how proud he was of me. Everything had been perfect. The way it was supposed to be.

Something like this wasn’t supposed to happen. I felt like my whole world had been tilted on its axis. I felt lost and afraid. I didn’t know which way was up or down.  This was Graham’s last year of high school. He was supposed to leave for college and study to be a lawyer like our dad.  He. Wasn’t. Supposed. To. Die. None of this was supposed to happen. My perfect life wasn’t supposed to explode like this. But it did. Over night, I went from having it all to having nothing. I watched my mom close herself off from everybody. I watched my dad spend his every waking hour slaving over his job so he didn’t have to think about Graham, or mom, or even me. I watched myself slowly spiral from a carefree happy girl, into a complete and utter cynic.  And I knew exactly who was to blame for everything. Jude Brooks.

I SMILED GIDDILY AS the Professor explained our final assignment. As he talked an idea formed in my mind. I knew exactly what I wanted to write about. As a journalism major, we were always writing papers and doing interviews, but this one was to count for fifty percent of our final grade. I wanted to make sure mine stuck out. “The next time I see you, I’d like for you all to have an idea for your paper. Come to me for final approval before you leave class Wednesday.” When the professor dismissed us, I calmly made my way down the steps to his desk. “Professor Taylor?” I asked, my voice soft and hesitant.  He looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Yes, Ms. O’Connor?” I rocked back on my heels, clasping my books tightly in my hands. “I already know what I want to write about.” My fingers nervously tapped against the books in my hands. “Alright,” he steepled his fingers, “what is it?” I swallowed thickly, praying to the journalism gods that he approved of what I wanted to do. I was already getting exciting about it. “I have a friend here who’s studying to be a nurse, I thought maybe I could shadow her and learn more about the process of going into the medical field. I want it to be more than a question and answer session. I want to delve into all the hard work these students go through to become our health care providers.” With a sigh, I waited patiently for him to think it over. He nodded slowly, mulling it over. “It sounds interesting. Go for it.” My eyes widened in surprise. I couldn’t believe he’d agreed so readily. I’d been preparing a speech in my head to argue my case.  “Thank you!” I exclaimed. Sobering, I said in a calmer tone, “Thank you so much. I’m really excited about this.” He chuckled. “Ms. O’Connor, I think you’re always my most excited journalism major. It’s refreshing. It reminds me why I wanted to do this job in the first place.” “Thank you again,” I told him, resisting the urge to hug him, because that would be majorly awkward. Before he could change his mind, I jogged up the steps and out the door. I headed across campus to the cafeteria. It was a crisp March afternoon. Some days were down right freezing, while some held the promise of spring. I let the small amount of sun filtering between the tree branches warm my face. I smiled, my blonde hair swaying around my shoulders. I couldn’t believe that in a few short months I’d be graduating. It didn’t seem real. Once college was over, it was time for real life. While I was mostly excited, there was a small part of me that was terrified. I’d never liked the unknown. Once in the cafeteria I got my food and sat down at the usual table I shared with my best friend Rowan…and sometimes Jude. God, I hated that guy with every fiber of my being. Unfortunately, he was also friends with Rowan, which meant I was kind of stuck with him.  Rowan took the seat across from me, dropping her bag on the floor. With a heavy sigh she poured

dressing on her salad and used a fork to swirl the leafy pieces around the bowl. “I’m so tired,” she propped her head on one hand and took a bite of her salad. “Between classes, and wedding planning, on top of the kids, I’m beat.” I frowned. “I’m sorry.” “It’s my own fault,” she huffed, pulling her long light brown hair into a ponytail. “I should’ve told Trent that I wanted to wait longer to get married. But he was adamant on not waiting more than a year.” She scrubbed a hand over her eyes. “At least he’s been helpful, but there’s only so much a guy can do when it comes to wedding planning,” she rolled her eyes.  With a clatter Jude dropped his backpack on the table. I glared up at him. “Can you not put your stuff down gently like a normal person?” I asked him. “No.” He grinned, backing away to go get his food. Everything Jude did got on my nerves. It was like he had a special talent for irritating me. Rowan and I fell into silence. I itched to ask her if she’d help me with my project, but I wasn’t sure if I should in her current mood. Jude finally joined us again and I couldn’t stand it any more. “Row?” I cleared my throat. “Yeah?” She looked up, wiping a piece of lettuce from her lip.  I explained my paper and what I wanted to do. Her face fell. “Oh, Tate, I wish I could help you but I’m far too busy.” She frowned, looking at me sadly. I groaned. “But I already got my paper approved! Come on! I won’t be in your way!” I begged, desperation overtaking my tone.  “I can’t, Tate. Not with all I have on my plate. I’m really sorry.” I knew she was, but it didn’t make me feel any better.  I buried my head in my hands. Great, now I had to start from scratch.  “You can shadow me.” “What?” My head snapped up and I glared at Jude. “No way.” He sighed heavily. “Don’t be stubborn, Tate—” “Once again, you are not allowed to call me Tate,” I interrupted him. Grinning, he said, “Tatum, I can help you with your project. Now be a good girl, nod your head, and accept my help.” Why? Why did Jude have to be studying to be a nurse too? Life was cruel and unfair.  Nibbling on my bottom lip, I did what I had to do. “Okay.” I couldn’t believe I was agreeing to this. I was willingly going to be spending time with Jude Brooks—the guy who singlehandedly ruined my life.  Monday’s sucked. So did desperation.  “That was easier than I thought,” Jude smirked, crossing his hands behind his head. “This is going to be fun.” “No, it’s not fun,” I spat the word. “It’s my final paper. I need a good grade for this, so don’t screw with me,” I pointed a finger at him.  “You need to chill,” he eyed me. “You’re too stressed. You know what’s an excellent stress reliever?” “What?” I asked, even though I knew I shouldn’t. “Sex.” My eyes widened. “Oh, really. Are you suggesting I have sex with you?” His grin became even bigger. “I mean, if you’re interested I could always show you a good time. I promise to make it worth your while,” he winked. “Keep dreaming,” I muttered, returning my attention to my lunch. “I don’t have to dream. I’m not giving up on you Tate.” I looked up then, choosing to ignore him calling me Tate again. “There will never be an ‘us.’ Besides,” I leaned closer and lowered my voice like I was letting him in on a secret, “it’s not like you’re hurting for a little fun between the sheets.” I nodded towards all the girls that had their eyes on Jude. I might hate the guy, but he was hot—in that All-American sort of way. With his brown hair and eyes, and that grin, he drew women to him like a magnet. Everyone on campus knew he was a player, but most girls didn’t care. They were more than happy to be a notch on his bedpost. Not me, though, and I knew that was the real reason Jude wouldn’t leave me alone. I was the only female on campus that posed a challenge. I wished he’d leave it alone, though. It was annoying. If he wasn’t friends with Rowan I’d

kick him for all his schoolyard antics—like right now, he was trying to play footsie with me. What were we? Five?  He gasped dramatically and put a hand over his heart, like he was offended by my words. “I deserve to have some fun while I wait for you to wake up and realize that we’re perfect for each other.” I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to my food. I wasn’t wasting any more of my time on Jude. I couldn’t believe I was going to be stuck shadowing him…hours of just the two of us. It was like my own personal hell.  “Well, ladies, this has been nice and all, but I need to go,” Jude mumbled, standing up and grabbing his backpack. He shoved his phone in his pocket and grabbed an apple off his tray, sticking it in his mouth. He gave us a salute and headed out the double doors. Rowan looked across the table at me and sighed. She did that a lot. “I really am sorry I couldn’t help you, but at least there’s Jude. I mean, it won’t be that bad, right?” I glared at her. “That bad? I hate him.” “But why?” She asked. “He’s not a bad guy at all, Tate. He’s really nice once you get to know him. I wouldn’t be friend’s with him otherwise.”  “You don’t understand,” I squirmed in my seat. “You don’t know him like I do.” “You’re right,” she grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “I know him better.” I was over this conversation. I knew even if I told her the truth, I’d never be able to make her see.  We finished our lunch in silence and went our separate ways.  When classes were over I met Rowan for our almost daily study session in the library. A lot of time Jude joined us, but today wasn’t one of those days. When my homework was done I knew I couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. I had to go home, back to the place I dreaded the most. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told Row, shrugging my backpack on. She barely nodded at me as I left. Even though she had her fiancé, Trenton, to take care of her now, she still wanted to get her degree and have a job. I couldn’t blame her. I craved my independence too. There was something satisfying about knowing you could stand on your own two feet without anyone else’s help.  I made the drive home blasting the radio and singing along. I enjoyed the noise because once I got home there would be nothing but silence.  Once upon a time we’d been a happy family. We’d laughed and talked and sometimes even fought. But that was before Graham died. Now we were broken, merely a fragment of the family we’d once been. We lost the glue that held us together.  My dad buried himself in work, and when he was home he was always angry, yelling at me and telling me to do better.  Mom retreated into herself. Her eyes now held a vacant, lost look. She stared listlessly for hours out the window, and it was like she was always watching for Graham to return.  I worked hard to be the perfect daughter, to be noticed by them, but it did no good.  I didn’t know why I kept trying.  I parked in the driveway and headed inside.  The house was dark. Not a single light on. Unfortunately, that was normal. “Mom,” I called out. No answer. “Mom?”  I found her standing in the kitchen by the sink, looking out the window. She didn’t move as I approached.  “Come on, mom,” I whispered, taking her hand in mine and pulling her away.  I led her to the living room and forced her to sit on the couch. I turned the TV on, but it wasn’t necessary. She wouldn’t watch it.  “I’ll make dinner.” I kissed her forehead.  She did nothing to acknowledge my words. It was like I didn’t exist…or maybe she was the one that didn’t exist. Watching someone you loved wither away to nothing was hard. She’d lost a lot of weight since Graham died seven years ago. I swear, she couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. She was skin and bones.  I really hated the look that was always in her eyes now. Like she was lost and didn’t know where she was. It hurt that she couldn’t be strong enough to be there for me. At the same time, I understood. Graham was the golden boy. He was the perfect son and brother. I loved and admired him. He was my best friend growing up and unlike other siblings we never drifted apart. I missed him every day, but I refused to shut down like my parents. Graham might be gone, but I sill deserved to live my life. I made dinner, took a plate to my mom, and then sat by myself at the kitchen table. 

It didn’t matter if my mom or even my dad was here, I was always alone when I was home.  The moment Graham was buried we stopped being a family.  I knew in the amount of years that had passed I should be over it, but I wasn’t. I missed my mom and dad, but there was nothing I could do to fix the mess we’d become.  I was torn about leaving. Most people had already moved out of their parent’s place, but I was scared of what would happen to my mom if I left. I was starting to crave my independence, though. I felt trapped by the memories here. I wanted a fresh start, but I wasn’t sure I was going to get one.  I guessed only time would tell.

“TATUM!” I jumped and fell out of my chair. “Dammit Jude!” I exclaimed, glaring up at his laughing form. “Shhhh!” Hushed a girl at the table beside me in the library.  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he chortled, reaching a hand down to help me up. I refused his hand, getting up on my own. I would never need Jude’s help—you know, except for with my paper, but that didn’t really count…right? “Don’t you ever do that again,” I glared at him, wiping my jeans free of lint and Lord knows what else that coated the library floor. “No promises,” he grinned, taking the seat beside me. “What do you want?” I asked, returning to my computer. “I thought I was helping you with your paper, or have you changed your mind?” He scooted the chair back and propped his legs up on the table, crossing his hands behind his head. He was the picture of ease. “I wasn’t planning on working on it today.” I tapped my fingers against the wood table with irritation. I felt his eyes staring a hole into me. I wanted him to go away.  “Come on, don’t be a party pooper. I’m on my way to the nursing home now.” He bumped my shoulder lightly with his hand and I flinched. “I don’t bite, Tate…” He lowered his feet and leaned towards me, his grin wicked, “unless you want me to.” “No, no, no, no way,” I stood, gathering my belongings. “I knew this was a bad idea. Forget I ever agreed to this. I don’t need your help. Not now, not ever.” I knew I wouldn’t be able to put up with Jude for an entire month. I’d have to come up with a new idea for my paper.  Before he could reply, I hauled ass out of there. I heard his footsteps pounding behind me, but I refused to turn around and look at him.  It didn’t take him long to catch up to me. His hand wrapped around my arm and he pulled me against his chest.  “Let me go!” I cried, trying to wiggle free. His whole body pressed against mine and I didn’t like how good it felt. Jude was the last person on the planet who should turn me on. He released me and I whipped around to glare at him. “Why won’t you leave me alone?” “What can I say? I’m very determined.” Crossing his arms over his chest, we ended up in a stare down. “I said I’d help you with your paper, and I intend to keep that promise.” Lowering his voice, he said, “I’ve never been able to figure out why you hate me so much.” I rolled my eyes. “The fact that you don’t know says a lot.”

I started to walk away again, but he grabbed my arm to halt me.  “Jude,” I warned, only he didn’t release me this time. He stepped up behind me, his long lean body adhering to my shadow. “Come on, Tatum,” his free hand skimmed over my shoulder, “you know you don’t want to change your project, just let me help you. Hell, you might even find that you actually like me.” His voice was low and coaxing.  “Not likely,” I wrenched my arm from his hold. Taking several deep breaths, I tried to calm myself down. Realistically, I needed Jude’s help with this, and being stubborn would get me nowhere. Squaring my shoulders, I did the responsible thing. “Thank you for offering to help me with this. I know you didn’t have to.” Tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind my ear I mumbled reluctantly, “I’d be happy to accompany you to the nursing home.”  “Good,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with victory. “By the way, I appreciate the fact that you’re trying to be nice and all, but drop the formalities. It’s weird.”  He reached for my hand and started pulling me along. “Whoa buddy,” I dug my heels into the sidewalk, “where do you think you’re dragging me off to?” “My truck,” he looked at me like I was stupid.  “I can follow you,” I declared. “I veto that idea.” He stared me down. Jude could be intimidating when he wanted to, but I was not one to cower. Life had been cruel to me the last few years and I’d become tough because of it. “I think you need to get to know me. The real me, since you insist upon hating me, you should at least know exactly what it is you’re hating.” What the hell? “Who are you? Yoda?” I looked at him incredulously. “I want to make a bet with you,” he grinned impishly. “A bet? What kind of bet?” Now I did start to squirm. This had ‘bad news’ written all over it. “How long do you need to shadow me for your paper?” He asked.  I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but I answered anyway. “A month.” His smile widened. “I bet that at the end of four weeks you’ll find that I’m really a nice guy.” “Oookay,” my brows furrowed, “what do you get if you win?” I was scared to ask, but I had to know what he could want so bad that he’d be willing to make a bet. “A date.” He waggled his eyebrows and licked his lips suggestively. If I were a meaner person I’d push him off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic. It was the least he deserved for being such a perverted jerk. “If I win and still hate you in a month, what do I get?” I tilted my head slightly, waiting for his response. His eyes widened in surprise, like he couldn’t believe I might actually agree to this. I wasn’t as much of an uptight bitch as he believed.  “If you win, I will gladly kiss the stick up your ass,” he chuckled, scratching his jaw. He held out his hand to me. “Deal?” “Deal.” We shook on it and my fate was sealed. I started to head towards my car, but he stopped me once more. Since I wasn’t in the mood to argue anymore, I let him lead me to his truck. It was an old beat up blue Ford. It was nothing special, but I knew Jude loved that truck more than he loved pretty much anything. Even though it was old, it shined like it was brand new.  He opened the passenger door for me. I rolled my eyes at his pathetic effort to be a gentleman. I wasn’t fooled.  He slid into the driver’s seat and I noticed for that first time that he was no longer wearing the jeans and t-shirt he’d worn earlier. Instead he’d changed into a pair of blue scrubs. He looked professional and capable in them—two things I never thought I’d associate with Jude Brooks. I wondered what had made him decide to get into nursing, but figured that was a question better left for later.  “Let’s play a game,” he suggested, starting up the truck. The engine roared and I resisted the urge to cover my ears with my hands.  “What kind of game?” I was hesitant to play any game Jude would come up with. “How about each day I help you with your paper I get to ask you a personal question and you have to answer it honestly? If it makes you feel better you can ask me one question too.”

I sighed, figuring this was all a part of his ploy to get me on his side. He didn’t know it, but there was nothing he could do to ever make me like him. So, I agreed. After all, what could it hurt?  “Fine. Ask me whatever you want,” I shrugged, looking out the window. He grinned widely, reminding me of a little kid when you gave them a toy. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to this. He’d probably either ask me something sexual, or why I hated him so much. Neither of which I would answer. “What’s your favorite candy?” I swiveled towards him, my mouth parting in shock. “What?” “What’s your favorite candy?” He repeated, smiling like he knew exactly what I had expected him to ask. “It’s a simple enough question.” Flabbergasted, I was unable to answer him for a moment. Finally, I opened my mouth and replied, “Twizzlers. The cherry kind.  That’s my favorite.” “Twizzlers,” he mulled that over. “I would’ve never guessed that.” “What’s your favorite candy?” I asked, since I really didn’t care to ask him any personal questions. I did not want to get to know Jude.  “Hmm,” he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he thought. “Probably gummy bears.”  “Gummy bears?” I laughed. His face fell. “What’s wrong with gummy bears? They’re delicious!” “Nothing,” I said, fighting a smile, “I just didn’t expect that to be your favorite.” “What did you expect then?” He questioned, eyes on the road. I thought for a moment and answered, “Airheads or Sour Patch Kids.” “Bleh,” he made a face, gagging for extra effect, “I don’t do sour. Only sweet. That’s why I like you.” I shook my head and looked out the window once more, my bad mood instantly returning. I didn’t like it when Jude said stuff like that. I didn’t want him to pursue me, or even actually like me as a person. I hated him, so I didn’t deserve his attention.  I started to laugh to myself, because up until a moment ago, Jude and I were having a civil conversation. I hadn’t been thinking about what he’d done to me—how he ruined my life—and he’d just been any other guy. I wished he could stay that way. I didn’t like all this hate bottled up inside me. Anger was like a poison, slithering through your veins and tainting the things you did and said. He deserved my hate for what he did, for what he caused, but the hate was only hurting me and not him. I’d lived with it for so many years I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to let it go. We arrived at the nursing home and I followed him inside. He pulled an ID badge out of his pocket and fixed it to his shirt. The doors slid open and the smell that accompanied every medical building assaulted me. It was one of my least favorite smells—sterile and lifeless. “Hi Trudy,” Jude greeted the older woman behind the desk. “You’re looking more beautiful than usual today. Did you do something to your hair?” She immediately turned into a swooning and blushing teenager. My God was I the only female that was immune to his charms? Get it together people. He wasn’t that good-looking and he was downright annoying. “I did,” she batted her eyelashes, “I curled it.” “It looks good,” he grinned. “Who am I seeing today?”  She handed him a chart and then looked at me. “Who are you?” “Oh, uh, I’m here with him. He’s helping me with a, uh, paper,” I stammered. It wasn’t like me to act that way but I didn’t want this woman to get the impression that I was his girlfriend and we’d be sneaking off to the nearest broom closet. She looked to Jude. “Is this true?” Jude grinned and leaned against her desk so he could talk to her and watch me at the same time. “Look at her face, Trudy. Does that look like the face of someone that would lie to you?” “Um…” “Don’t worry,” he continued, “sadly, she is telling the truth. I wish I could tell you that she’s here because she loves me so much she can’t bear to live a moment without me in her sight. But Trudy,” he frowned, putting a hand to his heart and fake tears pooling in his eyes, “sweet Tatum here does not feel that way about me. No matter how hard I try, she does not want to be my lover. It has left me broken hearted and I’m only left with the hope that helping her with this paper will somehow make her see that she’s the girl I’m going to marry.” “Oh, you poor thing,” Trudy reached out, patting his hand. Her gaze swiveled to me and she glared like I was an evil wench for breaking Jude’s heart. I had news for her; he didn’t have a heart to break.

If he did, he wouldn’t have destroyed my life. To me she said, “Don’t get in any trouble.” Me? Trouble? That was laughable.  “See you later, Trudy,” Jude leaned over and kissed the older woman’s cheek before scampering away. Her blush from earlier deepened and she reached up to touch her cheek. “Come on, Tate.” “Don’t call me that,” I grumbled, trailing after him as I dug a pen and paper from my backpack.  “If I can’t call you that, can I at least call you Tater Tot? Or maybe just Tater?” I kicked the back of his knee and he stumbled. “I assume that’s a no then,” he chuckled, straightening his scrubs. “You bet your ass that’s a no,” I muttered. I scribbled the date in my notebook and then pointed to the clipboard he held as we walked down the hall. “So, I’m guessing you visit different patients when you’re here?” He nodded, suddenly becoming all business. “It’s a rotation and they mix it up. They want us to get a feel for different issues patients face, since there’s such a wide variety.” He glanced down at his chart and stopped in front of a door. Looking over his shoulder at me, he waggled his brows. “Showtime.”

BY THE TIME Jude dropped me back off at school to get my car, I had a new respect for nurses and all medical personnel. They had to deal with some crappy stuff, all with a smile on their face. Remembering the Jude I’d known in high school—yes, I’d been subjected to attending the same high school as the douchebag—I couldn’t believe he was willingly taking care of people. It didn’t seem like him. If someone had asked me back then what I thought Jude would be when he grew up, I probably would’ve replied with gigolo. I hated to admit it, but Jude was surprising me. It didn’t mean I was starting to like him though. It would take far more than his career choice to change my opinion of him.

I HATED WEEKENDS. Weekends, for most college seniors, probably meant studying with a little fun time thrown in. There was no fun time for me—hadn’t been in a long time. I was stuck in this hellhole and the most exciting thing that ever happened to me was the rare late night study session at the local coffee shop/restaurant Griffin’s, with Rowan.  I used to be okay with that, but not anymore. I wanted a life, not…whatever this was.  I lay across my bed with my head propped against my hand. I’d finished my homework hours ago and had nothing else to do. I wondered how different my life would have been if Graham had lived—if he hadn’t wrapped his car around a tree.  I’d never know though.  My phone chirped with a text and I rolled over to retrieve it from the table beside my bed.  I opened the text from Rowan. Get your ass out of bed. We’re going to a party. No way. I typed back.  Yes u r. Don’t be stubborn. I need u 2 go so I’m not alone. I sighed. Parties weren’t my thing and I knew they weren’t Rowan’s either. I needed to get out, though, and this looked like the only way. With a huff, I typed, Ok. I’m sure Rowan was surprised I caved so easily. I wasn’t the most agreeable person in the world. We’ll be there in 5. Was her reply. Since I was chilling in my pajamas, I scurried around to change. I didn’t have the wardrobe for a party, so I had to make do. I shimmied into my favorite pair of jeans and put on a plain black longsleeved t-shirt. It was nothing fancy, that was for sure, but I didn’t care. At least I’d be comfortable. I dabbed on a bit of makeup, not much, but enough to not look like I’d rolled out of bed, and braided my hair. My dad wasn’t home, and since my mom was practically comatose it wasn’t like I had to worry about sneaking out. Besides, I was twenty-two so technically I was free to do what I wanted, so why did I feel so caged?  A familiar black Dodge Challenger was parked by the mailbox. It was Trent’s—Rowan’s fiancé—car.  As I approached the parked car, Rowan hopped out and moved the seat so I could slip in the back. “Evening, lovebirds,” I commented.  I might joke about Rowan and Trent’s deep love for each other, but those two had been through a lot and I truly was happy they’d been able to work it out. Rowan used to be so anti-love but after she almost lost Trent she turned into such a sap. If they weren’t so perfect for each other I would miss the old Rowan.

“Nice to see you too, Tate,” Trent chuckled, pulling away.  Like I always did, I looked back at my house. I didn’t know why, but I felt like one day it might not be there to return to. It shouldn’t have even mattered to me, since it hardly felt like a home.  “So,” I swiveled forward, “where’s this party?” Rowan looked back at me, sweeping her long sandy hair over her shoulder. “Well, it’s at Jude’s.” “Are you fucking kidding me?” Rowan flinched at my words and tone. I rarely ever cussed, and when I did it usually involved Jude in some form. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew it was at his place,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. My lower lip threatened to jut out like a pouting child. “I already spent all afternoon with the guy, and now you expect me to spend the night with him too?” “Not the whole night…unless you want to.” Trent winked as he looked back at me from the rearview mirror. Rowan smacked his arm. “It’s a party, Tatum,” she sighed, exasperated with my behavior. “You might not even see him.” “Why are you guys going?” I asked. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like sit around and stare into each other’s eyes? Or plan a wedding?” “Jude invited me and I wanted to get out for a bit,” Rowan shrugged. “This is my last chance to do something like this.” I guessed she was right, what with taking care of two kids. Rowan and Trent had a son together, a son Trent didn’t even know he had until a little over a year ago. In fact, I hadn’t even known Rowan had a son. She’d claimed he was her brother, and no one had a reason to doubt her. After her mother died, she also got custody of her little sister Ivy. I didn’t say anymore, because I didn’t want to ruin tonight for Trent and Row. They didn’t get out enough as it was. At least they were happy unlike most people. I didn’t know where Jude lived, but when we turned down a street lined with cars, I knew this must be where the party was. The townhouse was close to campus and I figured other college kids had to occupy the neighborhood to put up with all the people hanging around and the loud music. Trent parked the car along the street and we all hopped out. I suddenly felt very nervous. I hadn’t been to a party since high school and it hadn’t ended well.  I followed behind Trent and Rowan. I kept my head low—afraid of being recognized. To this day, some people still only saw me as Graham’s little sister—he’d always been popular and people older and younger than us knew who he was—and I couldn’t handle the looks of pity. He’d been gone for seven years now. I would always miss him, but I was no longer grieving. But when people looked at me with such sadness it always brought back memories better left buried. I stepped into the townhouse and was shocked by the amount of people inside. I really regretted agreeing to this now. I hated mingling and I refused to be Trent and Row’s third wheel all night.  “I’m the designated driver,” Trent turned around to tell me, “so feel free to drink whatever you want.” “I don’t drink,” was my response. I had never taken one sip of alcohol, not since Graham got drunk and crashed his car. Trenton’s brows drew together. Before he could say anything more, I separated myself from them. I heard Rowan call my name but I didn’t turn back. The three level townhouse was packed with fellow college students. I didn’t recognize most of them. Probably because I’d never made the effort to get to know anyone besides Rowan. I pushed through the crowd of bodies, heading to the second level. I hoped it would be less crowded. Wrong. There were buckets of ice, overflowing with bottles of beer. That wasn’t what I wanted. I sauntered over to the refrigerator, pushing people out of my way when I needed to, and searched for a bottle of water.  Mountain Dew. Coca Cola. Dr. Pepper. And beer. Lots of beer. Was this all college guys drank? They were going to have liver failure before their thirtieth birthday.  I grabbed a bottle of Dr. Pepper, it might not have been water but at least it wasn’t alcohol.  Some heavy rock song played from an iPod dock sitting on the counter. I was tempted to replace it with mine—which was filled with country, but I wasn’t in the mood to get in a fight with Jude or

anyone else for that matter. I didn’t even want to be here. I wanted to go home. Was it acceptable to stay five minutes and leave? I totally would if I had my car. You know, it was just my luck that the one time I wanted to get out and agreed to go to a party it would have to be at Jude’s. I couldn’t escape him no matter how hard I tried.  I spotted a couple making out on the couch. A part of me was disgusted by their display, but a small piece was jealous. I’d never had a relationship like that. I wasn’t saying that I was the Virgin Mary, but I’d never been in love. There had never been a guy I pined for from afar. I hadn’t kissed someone in the rain. Or fought and made up. I hadn’t found someone worth sharing the darkest parts of myself with, or even the good parts.  I turned away from the couple before I got overly emotional for no reason.  I moved through the people gathered in the middle of the living room, looking for a place I could hide out until Rowan and Trent wanted to leave.  I spotted a door leading out onto the deck. No one was out there, since it was such a chilly night, so I decided to make my escape there. I was almost to the door when I spotted a bowl of gummy bears on the coffee table. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling as I recalled Jude telling me he loved them. Feeling devilish I reached out for a handful, then decided to take the whole bowl. They were my gummy bears now. Nobody paid me any attention as I slid open the deck door. I’d long ago realized that even though Graham was the one that died, I sort of became a ghost too. I’d allowed that to happen by avoiding people, and refusing to get to know new ones, so it was my own fault. The deck was small with two chairs. I picked one of the plastic Adirondack chairs and looked up at the shining full moon and twinkling stars. It was such a pretty night. I thought people didn’t appreciate the beauty of the night sky enough. There was something breathtaking about its simplicity.  I propped my legs up on the railing and popped a gummy bear in my mouth. It tasted so good that I ended up eating another, and another, until half the bowl was gone and my stomach was starting to feel upset.  I laid my head back, my eyes feeling heavy. I would be the person to fall asleep at a party.  To keep myself awake, I chewed on some more gummy bears—probably not my most brilliant idea since I was already feeling sick. At least it would give me an excuse to leave. I shivered from the cold, but I wasn’t desperate enough to go back inside and deal with that mess. I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my jeans, checking for a text from Rowan. Nothing. Grrreat. We had to have been here for at least an hour already. Surely that was enough time and we could leave. My bed was calling my name. I sent her a text, asking her when they’d be ready to leave. When I didn’t receive a response in five minutes, I was tempted to chuck my phone off the deck out into the dark void.  I didn’t. The deck door slid open and I jumped at the grating sound. Relief flooded my system. Rowan hadn’t text because she was coming to find me. Only it wasn’t Rowan walking towards me. I didn’t have good enough luck for that to be the case. Instead, it was Jude. He wore a pair of jeans and a plain white tee. His feet were bare and he was the picture of ease. He sat down in the chair beside me, smiling crookedly. “I was looking for you,” he said simply. “Me?” I questioned with a raised brow. “Why?” He shrugged. “When Rowan said you came, I was surprised. This doesn’t seem like your type of thing,” he nodded towards the door that kept us barred from the craziness inside.  “It’s not,” I agreed, looking away from Jude, “that’s why I’m out here. By myself,” I added, hoping he’d get the message and leave. He didn’t. Jude never did what you wanted him to. He always had to go against the grain. If there was ever anyone that I’d saddle with the label of REBEL it was Jude. Some of the things he’d done in high school were borderline illegal. He was always looking for something stupid to do and a girl’s pants to get into. He was charming and never had a problem with accomplishing either of those things. Except with me.  “You know you prefer my company to being alone,” he joked, his eyes twinkling with laughter.  “I’ve had my fill of you for the day,” I grumbled, propping my head up. I was really starting to get nauseous. I knew I shouldn’t have continued to eat those dang gummy bears. Jude’s presence was

also adding to my upset stomach. I could only handle so much of the crazy things that came out of his mouth. “I’d like to fill you up.” My eyes bugged out. “You did not just say what I think you said.” His smirk widened, and he scratched at his jaw—almost as if he hoped the gesture would help mask his smile. “I did, and I meant it.” Leaning towards him with my eyes locked on his I spat, “Never gonna happen. Get that through your thick skull, Brooks.” That’s when I got a whiff of his cologne and my gag reflex kicked in. “Oh God,” I slapped a hand over my mouth. I stood quickly, forgetting about the gummy bears in my lap. The bowl fell to the ground and the gummy bears littered the surface. Jude’s eyes flicked from the gummy bears to me and back again. “Shit. How many of those did you eat?” “A lot,” I replied when I had control of myself. “Shit,” he repeated, thrusting his fingers through his hair so that it stood up wildly. “Those were soaked in vodka.” “What?!” I shrieked, my voice so high that Jude flinched from the sound. “Who the hell does that?” I cried.  His laugh echoed around us—the kind of laugh that shakes your whole body and leaves tracks of tears down your cheeks. “It’s a party, what did you expect?” He asked when he had control of himself. “Not this,” I pointed to the mess on the deck. “You forgot to mention the vodka part when you told me you liked gummy bears.” Still laughing, he said, “I only soak them in vodka for parties.” “I can’t believe this,” I muttered, burying my face in my hands. He stepped towards me and his cologne hit my nostrils once more. I gagged and dove for the door.  I ran through the house, looking for a bathroom. A line had formed outside a door of what I assumed was my destination. I was so screwed. I did not want to get sick all over the floor of Jude’s townhouse. That would be enough ammunition for him to make fun of me for the rest of my life—or at least until college was over and I never had to see him again. A hand reached out for mine, before I could wrench it away I saw that the hand belonged to Jude. “This way,” he said, guiding me through the hallway and up a third set of steps. His pace was quick, trying to get me to a bathroom before I got sick. I had news for him, he better have me there in seconds if he wanted to avoid that. He stopped at a door, pulled a key out to unlock it and shoved me inside.  It was obviously a bedroom, but bless his heart there was a bathroom. I ran for it, collapsing to my knees. My stomach heaved, trying to rid itself of those dang bears.  I startled when Jude’s fingers gently coasted against my neck, but then he was pulling my hair back and I was sick again, so there was nothing I could do to stop him. Jude was the last person I would ever want to see me like this, so of course I was stuck in a bathroom with him. That’s just how my life worked. And the most ironic part of it all was the fact that I was drunk on gummy bears. I didn’t even drink! How did stuff like this happen to me?  Once I was done emptying my stomach, Jude let go of my hair. I hoped he was going to leave me alone, but my luck wasn’t that good.  He grabbed a washcloth from under the sink, dampened it, and knelt in front of me. I blinked heavy, shock-filled, eyes at him as he gently cleaned my face. I knew he saw the surprise in my eyes. Jude Brooks was taking care of me. The only words to describe this situation were: what the fuck? Clearly, I was drunker than I thought and I’d stepped into some parallel universe. This was not good. I did not want to start liking him. He was the reason my brother was dead, and that was enough ammunition to hate him for the rest of my life. “Gummy bears are the devil,” I muttered, causing him to belt out a deep, throaty laugh. Taking a deep breath, I told him, “I’m fine.” I stood shakily, using the bathroom wall for support. “You’re not fine, Tatum,” he growled, using his body to close me in so I couldn’t edge towards the door. “You’re clearly not used to drinking and those gummy bears will really get to you.” “I don’t need you to look out for me.” I groaned. “I’m fine on my own. I don’t need you or anybody else to try and save me.”

I put a quivering hand against my forehead, feeling dizzy from my outburst.  “Tate,” he grabbed my shoulders to keep me from wobbling. I collapsed against him, unable to hold myself up anymore. His strong arms wrapped around me. I was never going near a gummy bear ever again. Those things were dangerous.  Jude swept my legs out from under me. Before I could protest he laid me down on the softest surface imaginable. Maybe I wouldn’t argue with him.  I curled my body around the pillow and smiled. “This feels nice.” He chuckled in response. He laughed at me a lot. I didn’t know why. I wasn’t very funny. “Is this your room?” I asked, crooking my elbow over my eyes to block out the glow of the light. It hurt my eyes. “Why’d you lock the door?” “So no one can get in.” His tone of voice told me exactly what he thought of that question. “No one is allowed to have sex in my bed that isn’t me.” “Does this mean you want to have sex with me?”  I don’t know what made me ask the question. I guessed I’d blame it on loose lips courtesy of gummy bears. I felt the bed dip down beside me. For a moment, my heart stopped, as I feared he’d taken my words as invitation. I rolled my head to the side to look at him but found that he was staring at the ceiling. I looked up to, and noticed the ceiling was decorated with those peel and stick stars and moons lots of kids have on their bedroom ceiling. I wondered why he had them here. He wasn’t a kid anymore and I wouldn’t think Jude, being a twenty-two year old male would want something like that in his bedroom. I hated to admit it, but maybe I was wrong about him. I really didn’t know that much about him as a person. Everything I knew was based on assumptions from what I saw and heard. I did know one thing, and that was that he was responsible for my brother’s death. I wondered if that fact weighed heavily on his shoulders. Probably not. Based on what he’d said about not being able to figure out why I hated him so much, I’d bet he wasn’t even aware of the damage he’d caused.  I wished I could be more like him—not caring what other’s thought of me and doing whatever the hell I wanted. I’d stopped being carefree a long time ago. “I want to have sex with you.” I startled at his voice. He’d taken so long to answer that with my foggy brain I’d completely forgotten that I’d asked him anything. “But I know you don’t want that.” He turned his head slowly to look at me. His warm brown eyes caused something to stir in my stomach that I didn’t even recognize. Despite my hatred of Jude there had always been something between us, and I’d always tried my hardest to squash it. The last year, having to share my best friend with him, had somehow managed to soften my heart towards him—and I hadn’t even realized it was happening. It didn’t mean I actually liked him, though. That would never happen. “When I touch you like that,” he reached out with his index finger to graze my lips, “you’re going to beg for it. You’re going to want it, and you’re going to scream my name because it’s the only word you can remember.” My breath faltered. “You’re crazy.” “No, I’m not.” He rolled onto his back once more, crossing his arms behind his head, looking up once more at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling.  I was too tired to move and my heavy eyes soon closed. I was asleep within minutes.  I really hoped I still hated Jude when I woke up.

SUNLIGHT WARMED MY SKIN. I blinked open my eyes wondering why I’d fallen asleep with the blinds open. Only they weren’t open and the heat wasn’t from the sun. A very heavy, manly arm was draped over my chest and I was pulled against a body where I was cradled like a teddy bear. What the hell happened last night? I tried to lift the arm off me, but it was futile.  I really hoped I hadn’t done something stupid, but since my clothes were still on chances were good that I was safe.

Since I couldn’t move, I looked around at the room. That’s when the memories flooded me. With a strength that I didn’t know I had, I scrambled from the bed and fell on the floor. The noise caused Jude to stir. I hopped up in time to see him stretching his arms above his head and yawning loudly. I kept backing up until I ran into the wall.  This had to be a really bad dream or a cruel joke.  There was no way I slept all night in a bed cuddled against Jude.  “Morning darlin’,” he chortled, running his fingers through his already mused dark hair.  “Why am I in your bed?!” My voice was shriller than I intended. I was in shock, to be honest. I grasped at my shirt, trying to pull it down from where it had ridden up to expose my stomach.  “You fell asleep,” he rolled over and stood, cracking his back. “You were too cute to wake. Don’t worry, I didn’t fondle you in your sleep,” he waggled his fingers innocently. “I’m not that desperate.” “You’re not desperate at all,” I stated, knowing just how many girls he had probably ‘fondled’ in this room. “I can’t believe Rowan abandoned me,” I muttered, anger filling my body. Some friend she was.  “She didn’t,” he shrugged easily, opening a dresser drawer. He pulled out a fresh shirt and removed the one he wore. I forced my eyes to the ground so that I didn’t stare at his chest. I couldn’t help wondering how he was so muscular. Between school and his volunteer hours I doubted he had very much time to work out. “What do you mean she didn’t?” I asked once he’d put on the clean shirt. “I let her know what happened. She checked on you, and since she trusts me, she left you alone.” Shrugging, he added, “To be honest, I think she would’ve had Trent carry you out of here but she said something about not knowing how to get you into your house. Are your parents strict or something?” He asked. “You still live with them, right?” I wanted to laugh. My parent’s strict? They didn’t care what I did. Not anymore.  “It’s complicated,” I answered, tucking a piece of blonde hair behind my ear. I felt extremely uncomfortable and I wanted nothing more than to get out of here, but I didn’t have a car, which meant I was dependent on Jude. Something told me this situation had played out exactly as he wanted. “Since you’re here,” he crossed his arms over his chest and his shirt rode up a bit, exposing his smooth stomach and the small patch of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans, “maybe we should go somewhere.” I cocked my hip to the side and stared him down. I was not going to play games with Jude. I wasn’t in the mood. “If you’re taking me anywhere, it’s home.” “Alright,” he grabbed his keys off the top of the dresser and spun the ring around on his finger, “let’s go then.” I was surprised he agreed so easily. Maybe he knew the chances of me spending the day with him were slim to none.  As we walked through the townhouse I noticed more than one person passed out in the hallway. One guy raised his head and gave Jude a thumb’s up. My mouth fell open in shock as I realized what the guy believed had transpired between Jude and I. There was no need to correct him, he’d only think I was lying. I was stuck looking like I was doing the walk of shame. This sucked. Once in Jude’s truck I gave him the directions to my parent’s house.  As soon as he parked in the driveway, I hopped out with no intentions to look back. “See you later, Tater Tot.” I whipped around, that nickname grating on my nerves. He started to back out of the driveway and when he looked back at me I waved my middle finger at him.  He simply laughed at the gesture, so something told me I hadn’t proven anything. 

I SLID INTO THE truck, glaring at the driver.  “I don’t understand why you need to drive me. I’m perfectly capable of driving my car and following you. There’s no need for this.” I waved my arms around wildly to encompass the truck. Jude chuckled, shifting the truck into gear. “Yes, there is Tater Tot.” He smirked like his ridiculous nickname for me was so clever and cute. I wondered what he’d think of it when I stabbed him with a pencil—or whatever other sharp object I could get my hands on. “If you didn’t ride with me, we wouldn’t get to have such enlightening conversations. And remember our bet?” I nodded reluctantly at his question. “This is the perfect time for each of us to ask our one question.” Buckling the seatbelt I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. “I deserve a giant bowl of ice cream for dealing with you.” “With gummy bears on top?” I gagged at the mention of those devilish little creatures. “Never. Again.” I assured him. He chuckled. “I really am sorry about that, just so you know.” “I’m sure you’re very apologetic,” I muttered, my voice laced with sarcasm as I looked out the window.  “Let me put it this way, I’m sorry you got sick, but I’m not sorry I got to spend the night with you.” I looked over to find him watching the road, his expression serious. There was no crinkling of his eyes or smirk on his lips. He was serious.  I chose not to comment on that. I’d probably only end up getting in an argument with him if I did and frankly, he wasn’t worth it.  As silence stretched between us, he asked, “What’s your favorite color?” Once again, I was surprised by the simplicity of his question. I didn’t look at him as I answered. “It always changes, depending on my mood and where I’m at, but right now it’s orange.” “Why?” I decided to answer instead of telling him he’d already asked me one question. Sometimes, I just needed to talk to someone—about anything—it just really sucked that I was stuck with Jude. “Because of that,” I nodded out the truck window at the setting sun. “It’s beautiful, warm, vibrant…” It was everything I wasn’t. “It comes every evening, but it’s always slightly different—the colors brighter and more vivid, or dulled depending on the weather. It’s always pretty though.” He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t expecting that detailed of a response.” I shrugged. The answer was more for myself than him, anyway. Even if he did ask. “What’s your question for me?”  I ignored him for a moment, so I could gather my thoughts. I rolled the window down and let it whip my hair around. It was really still too cold outside for this—winter was only beginning to melt away—

but I didn’t care. The cold air helped to calm me.  “Why did you help me?” I don’t know why that was the question that popped into my head. It wasn’t even really the one I wanted to ask, but apparently my mouth had different ideas. “What do you mean?” His gaze flicked briefly my way—long enough for me to see his thick brows furrowed together across his forehead like a caterpillar. “Why did you help me the other night, when I was sick? You didn’t have to do that. I’m sure you had more important things to do than hold my hair back as I puked confetti.” I said the words quickly, desperate to get them out. I felt antsy since Friday night. I’d spent most of my weekend pacing my house, and when I couldn’t take that any longer I hung out at Griffin’s and got buzzed on coffee. He chuckled at my confetti comment but quickly sobered. “I don’t know why you hate me,” his voice softened and when his eyes briefly connected with mine I was shocked to see hurt shining so clearly in them. “I’m actually a nice guy. Yeah, yeah,” he waved a hand dismissively, “I know I’ve been with a lot of girls, and never in a relationship, but…it’s easier not to get attached.” His voice had quieted so much with the last bit that I wasn’t even sure I heard him. I really wondered what he meant by that comment, but I’d already asked my one question and I didn’t want to push my luck.  We fell into silence for the rest of the drive to the nursing home.  I was cursing myself for not getting something from the vending machine at the library before we left. It was already five o’clock and I was used to eating dinner at this time. I didn’t dare tell Jude I was hungry. Not even when we passed a McDonald’s and my stomach rumbled like a jumbo jet. “Was that—?” “No,” I quickly cut him off. “I don’t know what that was. Maybe a plane.” I proceeded to look out the window, totally playing up the plane thing. He laughed, banging his fist against the steering wheel. I was surprised tears weren’t streaking his cheeks at this point, since he was laughing so hard. Like the kind of laughter that shakes your whole body. “I will never understand why so many girls won’t admit they’re hungry.” I hated being compared to anyone else, especially lumped into a category as ambiguous as girls. Honestly, what did that even mean? “Fine, turn around and take me to McDonald’s so you can watch me devour a Big Mac.” He looked at the clock on the dashboard and shrugged lightly, immediately executing a very dangerous U-turn that had illegal written all over it. “We’ve got time,” he said when he saw my open mouthed expression. “You could have killed us!” I cried in shock at the Duke’s of Hazzard move he’d pulled. “And before you got your Big Mac?” He joked. “That would’ve been a shame. But you’re okay, so it’s all good.” “You infuriate me,” I seethed, glaring out the window. After Graham’s wreck I was always scared to be in a car. For a long time I wouldn’t even drive. The stunt Jude had pulled startled me. I didn’t like not being in control.  I didn’t stay mad for long though once I saw the McDonald’s. I was too hungry to care.  Jude pulled his truck around in the drive-thru and placed our order. I slid over beside him and yelled into the speaker that I wanted a Hi-C and an Oreo McFlurry. When I returned to my previous position he shook his head, a small almost boyish smile lifting his lips. “What?” I prompted, pushing stray pieces of hair out of my eyes. It was honestly too long now, but I refused to cut it.  “You’re going to have a severe sugar rush in an old folks home. I’m really looking forward to watching this play out.” His smile grew wider and I was sure he was probably imagining something silly—like me singing, dancing, and spinning around in wheelchairs.  “I’m hungry,” I responded, “and no meal is complete without desert.” “That doesn’t explain the Hi-C,” he countered, sitting up a bit to grab his wallet out of his back pocket. “That drink is for five years old, and doesn’t it turn your tongue blue or something?” “Red,” I answered, “and you’re not paying for my food.” My protests went unheard as I dug through my backpack for the money I kept stashed there.  He handed the lady working at the window his credit card and tilted his head to look at me. “Last time I checked, it was the gentlemanly thing to do.” “Last time I checked,” I countered, smiling despite the fact that I shouldn’t be enjoying this at all, “there was nothing gentlemanly about you.” “Touché,” he chuckled heartily, scratching his chin as he waited for her to hand him his card and the

receipt. Once he had it he pulled up to the next window where they handed us our food.  He busted out in laughter at the sound I made upon smelling the food. I was starved and the smell of a greasy cheeseburger was calling my name. I didn’t think I had ever wanted anything more than I wanted that burger.  I set my food in my lap and handed Jude his so he could eat as he drove. He promptly shoved a handful of fries in his mouth, chewing loudly. The fries stuck out of his mouth like the tentacles of an octopus. I couldn’t help laughing. “What?” He asked around the mouthful. He took a large sip of his soda and said, “Isn’t this how everyone eats their fries?” “No,” I shook my head, eating one single fry to make a point. He shrugged. “I’m a man and that’s how we eat fries.” “Maybe if you were a caveman,” I mumbled under my breath, but he heard me even over the music blasting from the radio.  “Cavemen didn’t have the convenience of drive-thru’s or the salty deliciousness of French fries.” At his words I realized I would never win in an argument with Jude. Well, more like neither one of us would win. We were both far too argumentative and neither of us would back down.  I took a bite of my burger, unable to hold back a moan. I really needed to stop forgetting to eat. It wasn’t healthy.  As I chewed, I watched Jude out of the corner of my eye and noticed him squirming in his seat. “What are you doing?” I asked, and then when he explained I really wished I hadn’t. “I’m a guy, and when you make noises like that I can’t stop my reaction.” My eyes flicked down and then away. “Oh,” was all I could say. I could have come back with something rude, but then I would’ve looked like an idiot and I didn’t want to argue with him anymore. Especially since I still had to spend the majority of my evening with him.  Jude parked in the back lot of the nursing home and we finished our meal in silence. He looked longingly at my Oreo McFlurry, and I told him, “You should’ve gotten one.” “And maybe you should share.” He suggested with a coy smile, like if he flirted with me it would make me willingly give up the most delicious substance on Earth. I was pretty sure ice cream could solve all the worlds’ problems. I always had the freezer stocked with it. “Come anywhere near my ice cream, Brooks, and I will not hesitate to bite you.” “Biting makes things interesting,” he smirked. “Not if I bite your hand off,” I replied easily. “Whatever will you do then?” I eyed the noticeable bulge straining against his jeans.  “Guess you’ll have to help me with that, Tater Tot.”  “I’ll gladly help you to an early grave.” My words shut me up, and Jude too. I wasn’t sure if it was for the same reason though. I thought of Graham. Of that twisted sheet of metal wrapped around a tree. How we had to bury him in a closed casket because there wasn’t much left. I shouldn’t have had to bury my brother at that age. He was far too young with his whole life ahead of him. My parent’s shouldn’t have been around to watch their oldest child lowered into the ground. From the moment Graham died, my life was filled with shouldn’t. I hated that word now. I hated a lot of things. Mostly myself. “I’m sorry,” Jude whispered. I’m sure he’d guessed where my mind went.  “Don’t fucking apologize when you don’t mean it,” I snapped. My tone was icy calm, but my words were more heated than normal. I didn’t normally get upset over much, but Jude and anything involving Graham always got my temper stirring. “I do mean it.” His words were almost a plea, trying to get me to believe that he was a good guy. But he wasn’t. He killed my brother and he didn’t even know it. My anger got the best of me and I threw the half-melted McFlurry at him. Ice cream splattered everywhere. All over him, his clean scrubs, the cab of the truck, and even me.  I got out of the truck slamming the door behind me. I started walking in the opposite direction. I wasn’t sure where I was going. It didn’t matter. I had to get away.  But Jude had other plans.  “Tatum!”  He was right behind me and there was no escape. I whipped around so fast that he stopped in his tracks. I was crying, I felt the tears now, but I hadn’t even known they were there a moment ago. All my anger, all my frustration bubbled out of me. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. That’s what I’d been

doing for seven years. I had to crack eventually and now was that moment. “I hate you!” I screamed at the man in front of me with vanilla ice cream and Oreo’s caked into his hair and scrubs. “I hate you so fucking much that it eats me up inside! I can’t stand to look at you, knowing what you did! That it’s your fault! It’s not fair that you get to parade around like you own the place, fuck every girl you see, and my brother is dead because you couldn’t keep your fucking dick in your pants!” Jude’s mouth formed a perfect O of shock as I yelled at him. “You destroyed my life! You stomped all over it and you didn’t even care!” I couldn’t breathe I was so worked up. I clutched at my chest. Now that I was yelling I couldn’t seem to stop. I needed to get it all out in the open. I was sick of holding everything in and pretending I was okay when I wasn’t. I was always the person plastering on a brave face when inside I was breaking apart. I didn’t care what Jude thought of me, and since he was the source of every ounce of hatred I felt, I guessed it was appropriate that I lost my cool with him. “I lost not only my brother, but my best friend! One day he was there and the next he wasn’t! My mom won’t even look at me anymore! Did you know that?! It’s like I’m a ghost in my own house! My dad’s barely even there! When you killed Graham you killed them too! And you might as well have killed me, because I’ve never been the same!”  “Tate, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was deceptively calm. I could see the storm brewing in his eyes. He was pissed, but he was trying not to show it. If I wasn’t mistaken there was some fear too. He should be afraid.  “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what you did,” I spat. “I really don’t.” I wanted to punch him in the face. Maybe it would knock some sense into him, but probably not. The fight was leaving my body and I turned to leave once more. I wanted to forget about Jude, this stupid project, and definitely how nice it had been to be snuggled in his arms. At sixteen years old I had vowed to hate Jude Brooks for the rest of my life for the damage he’d caused. I was not about to break that promise. 

AFTER I WALKED AWAY from Jude, Rowan was kind enough to pick me up and drive me back to school to get my car. Then she insisted on following me home and she hadn’t left yet. She sat beside me at the bar that extended from the island in the kitchen. I had a bowl of vanilla ice cream with three Twizzlers in it. After all, I hadn’t really gotten to eat my McFlurry. I propped my head up with one hand and slowly ate the ice cream with the other. Normally, ice cream always made me feel better. Not now though.  “You have to tell me what happened,” Rowan pleaded, looking at me with wide hazel eyes.  “No.” “It’s in the code of Best Friends,” she continued. “So, you have to tell me.” “Then don’t be my best friend, I really don’t care.”  “Tatum.” The way she said my name was the tone of a mother scolding her child.  “Rowan.” Her lips pursed and we ended up in a staring contest. She caved first and I ate a Twizzler to celebrate my small victory. “I just want to understand why you hate him so much. I think I deserve an explanation. I’ve been dealing with you two for over a year now. And I don’t care what you say, but there’s definitely chemistry between you guys. Oh my God,” she gasped, “is that why you hate him? Did he screw you over in high school or something?” “Absolutely not.” I was appalled that she’d suggest such a thing. “I have never, and will never, be one of his play things.”  “Then explain it to me.” She eyed me, waiting for me to cave. She reached for the spoon that lay in my bowl of ice cream but I swatted her hand away. “Get your own.” “Fine, I will.”  Rowan made her own bowl of ice cream and sat beside me once more. I was lucky that when we got here my mom was nowhere to be seen. Usually, when I got home and she wasn’t downstairs it meant she was in Graham’s room. I always knew not to bother her when she was in there. In all the time that I’d been friends with Rowan this was the first time she’d ever set foot in my house. I’d never wanted to explain my family to her and she didn’t know about Graham. She was the only normal thing I had in my life. “I’m not leaving here until you give me some answers, Tate,” she eyed me and her look was determined. Rowan was a woman of her word, so I knew I better spit it out or she’d be sleeping on the floor of my bedroom. I started from the beginning, telling her about Graham and his girlfriend and how Jude slept with her. I told her about Graham’s supposed accident, and how I found a suicide note in his bedroom and

knew it was no accident at all. “Jude mentioned that to me a long time ago,” she whispered, “he said you kicked him in the balls for sleeping with your brother’s girlfriend.” “I did,” I confirmed. “I wanted to do a lot more than that, actually,” I muttered, looking away. “Graham wasn’t even dead yet then. That happened a week later.” “I still don’t see how Graham killing himself has anything to do with Jude.” “It has everything to do with Jude,” I glared at her. “Wait here.” When I was sure she wasn’t going to follow me, I jogged upstairs and opened the drawer in the table beside my bed. I pulled out the folded piece of paper. It was yellow now and ripped in places from the many times I’d held it.  When I passed Graham’s room on my way down, sure enough my mom was in there. She sat on the edge of his bed, clutching his pillow. I hated hearing her cry. She’d cried every day at least once since the police showed up at our house. You’d think by now she would’ve run out of tears. But as long as you have something to cry about, they never dry up. Back in the kitchen I handed Rowan the note.  I’d read it so many times I had it memorized. Hi Tatie. I know you’ll be the one to find this. I don’t have any words right now other than I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better brother and son. I’m sorry I couldn’t be perfect. Now, Tatie, stop looking like that—I’m sure right about now you have your face screwed up in disbelief. But you know better than anyone else that I’m not perfect. I try so hard to be, but it’s an impossible mission and I’m sick of trying. What happened with Kaitlin broke my heart. I loved her, but apparently not enough. What she did showed me that life is a bunch of bullshit and I don’t want to deal with this anymore. Yeah, yeah, I know. This is the coward’s way out. But Tatie, we both know that’s exactly what I am. I’ve let mom and dad plan out my whole life and I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy in a long time.  I’m sick of living a life that doesn’t feel like mine. Maybe I’ll get lucky and I’ll come back as someone else.  If that happens, I hope you’ll be my sister in every life. I can’t say it enough, but I’m sorry. Don’t hate me. Please. And whatever you do, don’t let mom and dad dictate your life like they did mine. Live your dreams, not theirs. —Graham Tears swam in my eyes when Rowan put the note aside. “Tate,” she said my name slowly, like it was a grenade she was afraid might detonate the moment the vibrations registered as sounds in my ear. She set the letter down and scooted closer to me, reaching for my hand, which I did not give her. “This doesn’t sound like it has anything to do with Jude.” “It has everything to do with him!” My voice rose and my body with it—one second I was sitting and the next I was standing, glowering down at Rowan like she was the source of all my problems. “Read it again! You’ll see!” I pointed at the letter like it held the answers to everything, which to me it did. “Tatum.”  I couldn’t stand to hear the sadness in her voice. I wanted to cover my ears like a child and start humming so I didn’t have to hear whatever she was going to say next. “It sounds to me like,” she picked up the letter, scanning it once more, “Graham had more of a problem with your parents than with what happened with his girlfriend.” “That’s not true,” my bottom lip quivered. “It’s there, read it again. You have to see it. I’m not crazy. This is Jude’s fault! It’s his fault! If he hadn’t fucked Kaitlin, Graham would be here right now! He wouldn’t have killed himself! Please, read it again!”  “Sweetie,” I flinched at the name. I didn’t want Rowan or anyone else calling me sweetie. It had such a condescending tone to it. “It sounds like that was a part of it, but in this letter he seems more pissed about your parents. Like they’re the source of his problems.” “My parent’s are good people.” My voice was quiet, no more than a whisper. “Good people do horrible things.” She bowed her head, her lips turning down in a frown. I knew she was thinking about how she kept her son a secret from Trenton.  I picked up the letter from where it had been left on the counter and flattened it against my chest.  “I think you should go now,” I whispered, unable to meet her gaze.

“I know you don’t care what I have to say, but you need to realize that your brother’s death is no one’s fault. Not yours. Not your parent’s. And certainly not Jude’s. He made his choice, Tate. Stop living in the past, it’s holding you back. You deserve to be happy and not…this,” she waved a hand at my morose expression. She didn’t say anything more, just walked out of the kitchen and then out of the house. The sound of the front door closing felt like a slap to my face. With a sigh, I looked towards the bowl of ice cream.  It was completely melted now.  Apparently today was not my day for sweets—or anything for that matter.

I FELT HIS EYES on me before I saw him. It was like my body was always acutely aware anytime Jude was near. I didn’t like it one bit. I looked up from where I pushed my lunch around on the tray.  “Mind if I sit?” He asked, reaching up to adjust the beanie he wore. “Something tells me that if I say no you’re going to sit anyway.” I mumbled, not bothering to lift my eyes to look at him.  “That’s true,” he shrugged, dropping his backpack on the ground and sitting across from me. Rowan was suspiciously absent. Something told me they’d orchestrated this. In fact, I probably didn’t want to know how much those two talked about me. “What happened yesterday? I can’t figure it out. I’ve been racking my brain and I honestly don’t know what I did that could have anything to do with your brother’s death. His death was an accident. It was a freak thing and it had nothing to do with me.” His brown eyes pleaded with me to understand him as he looked at me through a veil of thick lashes. “It wasn’t an accident,” I mumbled, glaring at my half-eaten food. “Yes it was,” he sighed, clearly exasperated with me. He removed the beanie he wore, ran his fingers through his unruly brown hair, and replaced it. I think he just wanted to do something to busy himself. I’d been around Jude enough to know that he didn’t like to sit still. He was a doer. I shook my head. “Graham killed himself. He crashed his car, because he couldn’t deal with what you’d done.” I was becoming more heated by the second and I might just throw my food at him. My mom always told me that as a child I was the queen of temper tantrums. Apparently I never outgrew that. “What the fuck did I do?” He spread his arms wide. “I’m so confused! I didn’t even know your brother.” “You knew his girlfriend,” I spat, my cheeks growing red with anger. “Ohhhh,” he drew the word out and his eyes lit with recognition. “That’s what this is about.” Smirking like he always did, he said, “Tater Tot’s jealous. This is cute.” I blanched, unable to reply. “That’s not what this is about at all. God, you’re so fucking conceited it’s sickening.” Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Still think you can father a child after that kick I gave you?” Jude was unfazed by my words. “Want to find out?” “Ugh,” I stood, gathering my bag and leaving my food on the table. “I don’t have to deal with this,” I muttered, and did what I did best, which was to walk away.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chanted, running after me and cornering me in an alcove.  I rolled my eyes, looking down at the ground and away from his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he continued. “It was joke, I swear. You shouldn’t take most of the things that come out of my mouth seriously.” I sighed, still not looking at him. I was never in the mood to deal with Jude.  His hands came up to rest against the wall beside my head. If he thought I was oblivious to the movement, he was wrong. It put his body closer to mine and I had nowhere to escape. Well played, Brooks. Well fucking played. “You can think whatever you want of me, Tatum, but the fact of the matter is what I did had nothing to do with what happened to your brother. You’re acting like a child, trying to find someone to blame. I won’t be your scapegoat,” he lowered his voice and leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. I shivered from the contact. “Stop fighting what you feel for me.” “I’m not fighting anything,” I panted. 

He pulled away slightly, tilting his head so that strands of his hair tickled my forehead. “That’s all you do, Tate. You fight everything.” He straightened and lowered his arms to his side. “Now, this is the last time I’m going to extend my help with your paper. Think of it as a three strikes and you’re out kinda deal,” he winked. There was nothing playful in his gaze though. He was dead serious. If I told him to leave me alone, he would, and then I’d be screwed. I didn’t have the time to think up a whole new paper and go that route, so I was stuck.  “I accept your help,” I mumbled, barely audible. I stared down at the scuffed ends of my Nike sneakers. “What was that?” He turned an ear towards me. “I didn’t quite hear you. Speak up.” “I accept your help.” I said it louder this time, squaring my shoulders and holding my head high. “Good,” he smiled, rocking back on his heels. He started to walk away, but turned back around to where I still stood against the wall. “Oh, and Tate?” I nodded for him to continue.  “Try smiling sometime.” “Huh?” That was not what I had expected to come out of his mouth. “You’re always beautiful, but you light up when you smile. I’d like to see you do it more often.” “Maybe you shouldn’t piss me off then,” I countered, unable to hold back the words.  He chuckled, scratching his jaw. His smile was crooked when he said, “See you later, Tater Tot.”

WHEN I CLIMBED INTO bed that night I felt so confused. For the last seven years I’d blamed Jude for Graham’s death. I’d built this hatred up inside me. Now, between what he and Rowan said I felt lost, like maybe it really wasn’t his fault. But if I didn’t hate Jude, what was I supposed to do with all this anger inside of me?

EVEN THOUGH IT WAS chilly, I sat outside on one of the many benches that dotted the campus grounds eating a banana. I didn’t want to get caught out with Jude while I was hungry again. I might hurl another McFlurry at his head and that would be a real shame. “You know,” the voice sounded right beside me, “I could make a really dirty joke right now about you and that banana, but I’d like to live to see tomorrow so I’ll keep quiet.” I looked over at Jude, continuing to chew happily on my banana. I wouldn’t let him faze me. “Are you ready?” I asked. He nodded. “I think the better question is are you ready?” “I have to be,” I replied. I stood and slung my backpack over one shoulder as I followed Jude to his truck. If there was one thing I knew Jude loved, it was that truck. It was an older model Ford with a shiny blue paint job. No matter the weather, it always sparkled like it had just been washed. Maybe it had. He opened the truck door for me and I climbed inside.  I didn’t thank him.  Rowan had made me feel crazy for hating Jude. I thought for sure after she read the letter she’d be on my side, but she still defended him. Then after my talk with Jude I felt unsure about the whole thing. I still didn’t like him, I probably never would, but the overwhelming burn of hate was mysteriously gone from me. Well, maybe not gone, but redirected…at the people I probably should’ve been angry at from the beginning.  “You look tired,” Jude commented, taking in the bruise like shadows under my eyes. Jude may have been a womanizer, but he also noticed more than most guys. I’d hoped I’d be able to hide them, but no such luck. Even Rowan had asked about them. I’d given her a mumbled answer that made no sense, but with Jude I found myself saying, “That’ll happen when you’re up all night thinking about the last seven years of your life.” “Tatum—” “No,” I cut him off. “I really don’t need to hear whatever it is you think you have to say. You didn’t lose your brother. You didn’t have to find that note. You don’t have to live with this constant pain.” My breath stuttered and I looked away, hoping to get a better grip on my emotions. “Please, leave it alone.” He sighed heavily, not at all pleased with my request. “For now,” he reluctantly agreed and I felt relieved to be let off the hook, even if it was only temporary. “Is our bet still on?” He asked, filling the silence that loomed like a stormy cloud in the truck. “Sure,” I shrugged. At least the bet would give me something to think about other than Graham and the fact that his suicide really wasn’t Jude’s fault and the people I should blame were the ones living in my house. “Why don’t you ask me a question first?” He suggested, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

I leaned my head against the headrest, trying to think of a good question. So far our questions had been relatively useless and silly. I wanted to know something personal about him. So, I asked the question that had been bugging me the longest. “Why do you want to be a nurse?” He chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. I wasn’t sure if he was mad about the question or what. His eyes flicked my way for a moment and then back to the road. “I should have known you’d ask me that one eventually.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.  “You don’t have to answer it if you really don’t want to,” I said softly. I knew what it was like to be asked something that you didn’t want to talk about and it sucked. I might not have liked Jude but I was really working on at least tolerating him. “You’re not the first person to ask me that question,” he whispered, squinting against the sun, “but you are the first one I’ve ever wanted to tell the truth.” His words caused my heart to stop momentarily. I didn’t know whether I was excited about knowing something about Jude that no one else knew or terrified. Probably terrified. He looked at the clock on the dashboard and said, “I’m never late, so if I call the nursing home they’ll understand, but there’s something I need to show you to make you understand why.” “Oookay,” I drew out the word. “You’re not kidnapping me, are you?” “No,” he laughed. “You’d only find a way to escape if I tried that.” “True,” I agreed. Jude pulled out his cellphone and called the nursing home. I was surprised by how easily they let him off the hook. “They love me,” he shrugged when I stared at him incredulously. “They gave me the whole evening off. I’ll just put in some extra time for a few days to make up for it.” “Man,” I shook my head, stifling a laugh, “you are quite the charmer.” He glanced at me with a wide smile, displaying his perfect white teeth. “Except my charms don’t work on this one girl that I really, really like. It kinda sucks.” “I’m sure you’re terribly sad,” I played along, looking out the window. “I bet you cry yourself to sleep every night.” “I do. I use my teddy bear to mop up my tears and I also suck on my thumb,” he rambled, not missing a beat.  “Now that,” I couldn’t help laughing, “is something I’d love to see.” “You can come over anytime,” he grinned. “There’s plenty of room in my bed for an extra snuggle buddy. But you already knew that,” he winked, laughing under his breath. I had no comeback for that one and he knew it. We grew quiet as he turned off the highway and drove along. The town soon disappeared, replaced by the country and a dirt road. A wooden fence kept cattle from crossing into the road and trees were everywhere, blanketing the sky around us. “Where are we going?” I asked, unable to handle the suspense a moment longer. “To answer your question.”  “I really hate show and tell,” I muttered under my breath. “You better not take me to a whorehouse or something.” He let out a belly laugh and smiled crookedly. “You’re funny.” “I was being serious,” I replied. “I know you were,” he grinned at me, “that’s why it was funny.” The dirt road narrowed into a driveway and I stared around in awe at all the animals. There were goats, cows, sheep, llamas, and the most beautiful horses I’d ever seen. “Wow,” I breathed, unable to keep myself from uttering the word.  “I know, right,” Jude agreed. “It’s beautiful here. My favorite place in the world.” He whispered the last part. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” I admitted, still in awe of the spectacular property. “You’ve never been on a farm?” He asked, his tone of voice incredulous. “Isn’t that like a prerequisite to live here?” “My parent’s are pretty citified,” I mumbled. “My mom would’ve complained that she was getting her shoes dirty and my dad wouldn’t have set foot at a place like this. Did you grow up here?” I realized immediately that maybe I shouldn’t have asked the question since our deal was one question a day, but I couldn’t help myself.  He answered anyway, despite my slipup in our plan. “Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, my nose crinkling in confusion. He shrugged and I let it drop. I didn’t want him prying into my life, so I wouldn’t do the same to him. The trees pulled away, hanging in a way that they almost framed the two-story white house. A porch wrapped around the front and sides. I could tell the home was old, and in need of a lot of work, but no less beautiful. A large red barn sat behind the house, looking exactly like I’d imagined one to look. If I peered far enough, I could see at least two more barns on the property. In the distance there were rows upon rows of cleared land, ready for the planting season.  Jude killed the engine on his truck and hopped out. I was left to follow.  He bounced up the rickety steps to the front door. I was much slower, a bit afraid that the steps might cave in. He opened the door and waved me inside ahead of him. Like the exterior, the interior was obviously old and in need of repairs. Flowery pink wallpaper in the foyer peeled down and the wood floors needed to be sanded and re-stained. I still thought it was beautiful in a rustic, homey sort of way.  “Pap?” He called out. “Where are you?” “Back here, boy!” Sounded a gruff voice from the back of the house. Jude nodded his head for me to follow him.  We rounded the hallway into a kitchen and the first thing I noticed was that it was covered with dirty dishes. It was also covered with at least ten baskets of eggs. I had never seen so many eggs in my life. Not even at Easter brunch as a child when we had an Easter egg hunt with family.  In the corner of the room, sitting at a small wood table, was an older man. His gray hair was thinning but there was a sparkle in his brown eyes—the same shade of brown as Jude’s. His face was heavily wrinkled, and he looked tired—like a man that had worked hard his whole life. Upon seeing us, he smiled and it lit up his face. It didn’t escape my noticed that despite the fact that it was the evening, the man was reading the newspaper, a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. A cup of coffee and orange juice sat at the side of the plate. “Pap,” Jude groaned, “what have I told you about the eggs?!” Not waiting for the man to respond, he continued, “They spoil. You either need to sell them, or toss them. You can’t eat all these.” Lowering the newspaper, the older man responded. “Andrew, I’ve taken care of myself this long, I think I’m fine.” Andrew? “Pap—?” “The yard needs to be mowed, do you think you can do that?” He talked right over Jude. Jude shook his head. “You know I will, but not—” “Today, please. It’s looking shabby.” His eyes landed on me. “Who’s this? Oh…is this Julia? She’s lovely, Andrew. You’re description didn’t do her justice. She’s stunning.” I shot Jude a questioning gaze.  “Pap, we’ll be right back.” Jude reached for my hand and pulled me from the room.  “Alright, I’ll finish my breakfast while y’all talk,” the man said from the other room. Once we were in the living room away from the kitchen, Jude released my hand. “I should’ve explained before we walked in here. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he muttered, shoving his fingers through his hair so it stuck up wildly. “That’s my grandpa, which I’m sure you’ve figured out. He has Alzheimer’s. Some days are good, some days are bad. Very bad. Like today. He was fine yesterday, so I thought he’d be okay today.” “So, Andrew is…?” I prompted, my gaze travelling around the room. An old piano sat in the corner with an even older couch. One of those giant Grandfather clocks took up space against the wall. I’d never seen one in person. This house was screaming to be fixed up.  “My dad,” Jude clarified.  “And Julia?” I tilted my head to the side. “I don’t know,” he frowned. “My mom’s name is Karen. When he gets like this, I’ve found it’s best to play along. He gets mad if I contradict him.” Jude’s eyes grew sad. Normally he always smiled or laughed, to see him like this was a new experience for me. Jude loved his grandpa. That was obvious.  “I don’t understand what any of this has to do with answering my question,” I muttered, suddenly feeling even more uncomfortable. It had to be a terrible thing to lose your memories.  “It has everything to do with it,” Jude said simply. Pointing in the direction of the kitchen, he

explained, “That man in there practically raised me. He was more of a dad to me than mine ever was. Watching him slowly start forgetting things hurt more than anything. When I started college, I knew I wanted to be a nurse and work in a nursing home. I wanted to work with people like my grandpa and maybe make their day a little nicer. I want to help, because watching someone you love slip away day by day is a terrible thing. If I can ease the burden for another family, I’m glad to do so.” I think my mouth fell off at one point during his speech and currently rolled around on the floor.  Jude Brooks had a heart.  Hell must have frozen over. Between this, and my conflicted feelings over Graham’s death, today was proving overwhelming.  “You don’t need to say anything,” he shrugged. “But that’s the truth.” I shut my mouth, because if I spoke I might say something nice to him and that would not be good. Instead, I nodded.  “Are you okay to go back in there?” He asked, appearing nervous—like he believed I’d be afraid of his grandpa. “Of course,” I replied. “He’s not a rabid animal.” Jude threw his head back and laughed merrily about that. He laughed a lot. Most guys didn’t. It would be refreshing if he wasn’t, well, Jude. Back in the kitchen, his grandpa said, “Son, get the yard mowed. You’ve got all day to flirt with the pretty girl.” I looked out the kitchen window at the sky beyond. It was getting dark now, too dark to mow.  “I’m going, I’m going,” Jude chanted.  “You can’t mow in the dark!” I cried. I don’t know why I was coming to Jude’s defense, but I knew I couldn’t let him do that. On a property this large, it would be impossible to mow in the dark. He leaned into me, brushing strands of my blonde hair off my shoulder with a single flick of his fingers. Whispering in my ear, he said, “I installed a headlight on it. I’ll be fine. Besides, I won’t do it all. Just enough to make him happy.” “But—” I gaped. “You’ll be okay?” He framed it as a question.  I looked from his grandpa to him and nodded.  “Just play along,” Jude reminded me. His steps thumped against the old floors as he headed outside. The screen door creaked shut and I was left alone with the eldest Brooks. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?” He nodded towards the window. “Beautiful.” I agreed. “Are you hungry?” He asked. “I made plenty. Grab a plate for yourself.” “I already ate,” I assured him. “But thank you for asking.” He nodded. “I see you have manners. I like that. You’re a pretty girl, Julia.” “Thank you,” I said again.  “You’re too good for Andrew,” he continued. “That boy’s trouble.” “Is that so?” I asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him. The table and chair set looked like it was made in the seventies. The chairs were a pukey green color and the table was a dark wood. “Tell me more about Andrew.” The man smiled, his eyes lighting up. He lapsed into a tale about a wild boy and all the shenanigans he pulled. I wondered if Jude’s dad was really like that, or if his grandpa’s Alzheimer’s had caused him to combine Andrew and Jude’s childhood. I found myself intrigued by everything the man said. I didn’t want him to stop telling me stories of his and Andrew’s past. I wanted to ask him about Jude, but since I was ‘playing along’ I knew that was strictly forbidden and I didn’t want to make his grandpa mad by asking something he didn’t remember. “Come with me,” the man stood. “I’m Jerry, by the way. I’m so sorry I didn’t introduce myself. My rude son should have made the introduction for us.” “Sometimes Andrew forgets his manners,” I said. It felt weird to call Jude by a name that wasn’t his.  “That he does,” Jerry agreed, leading me through the house. “I raised him better than that. Sometimes, you do all the right things, and they turn out to be the wrong things.” I nodded in agreement, mulling over his words. “That’s very true.”

“I grew up in this house, and my father before me,” he said, looking around with nostalgia written on his face. “It’s been in my family for generations.” “It’s a beautiful home.” Despite the fact that it was falling apart, it had good bones. With enough money and manpower, it could sparkle like new again.  “I wish Andrew thought that. He hates this place. He can’t wait to get away,” Jerry rambled. “He doesn’t want to live a farmer’s life. I can’t say I blame him. It’s hard work.” “I’m sure he’ll change his mind,” I assured Jerry. He shook his head. “No. Once Andrew sets his mind to something, he doesn’t change it.” Smiling at me, he added, “He’s like me. Stubborn to a fault.” I couldn’t help laughing. The same things had been said about me more times than I could count. “I should stop rambling about Andrew and show you the place. This is obviously the living room.”  I’d already seen this room when I was with Jude, but I didn’t say that. Instead, I looked around and told him how nice it was. “Do you play the piano?” I asked, nodding to the upright in the corner. He shook his head. “That’s Mae’s. My wife,” he added. Looking around, he said, “I haven’t seen her this morning. I wonder where she is.” “I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” I patted his arm. Jude hadn’t mentioned a grandma, so I assumed she was gone. It broke my heart that Jerry was so clearly stuck in the past—in a time when his wife was alive and his son was still home. He led me upstairs, showing me the bedrooms and bathrooms. The upstairs was a little more updated than the rest of the house.  The last room he showed me was ‘Andrew’s’ but from what I saw in there, it had Jude written all over it.  The walls were painted a dark blue and the furniture was old and well worn. The bedspread was blue and gray stripes and gray curtains hung beside the windows. A calendar with scantily clad women hung on the wall. There were some clothes strewn around and enough odds and ends to tell me that someone still occasionally used this room. Jerry took me downstairs again and showed me a sunroom. I was sure it was beautiful during the daytime.  “Huh,” Jerry tilted his head as he looked out the wall of windows, “it got dark fast. I forgot lunch…and dinner.”  I frowned, but didn’t say anything.  “Are you hungry, Julia?” He asked me. I shook my head. “No.” “Well, I am. I’m going to make something for Andrew and me to have when he comes in. You can stay out here if you want. Or go out on the porch. There’s blankets in a basket beside the couch in the living room.” While he went back in the kitchen, I decided to listen to his suggestion to sit out on the porch. I grabbed a blanket, which was right where he said it would be, and found a rocking chair on the front porch.  It was completely dark now, but there were small solar lights dotting the walkway leading up to the front of the house. They provided enough light to illuminate the fence and some of the animals. I shivered and wrapped the blanket tighter around my body.  Today was shaping up to be interesting. I didn’t know quite what to make of it. Jude was beginning to break down the wall of cinderblocks I’d built around my heart and myself. I didn’t want to be his girlfriend, or even his friend, but he was weaseling his way into my life and I didn’t like it one bit. Or maybe I did like it and that’s why it scared me so much. “I thought you might want something to drink.” I jumped at the sound of the voice. Jerry stood beside me with a glass of water. I hadn’t heard him approach. My heart gradually slowed and returned to its normal pace. “Thank you.” I took the proffered glass from him. He didn’t reply as he turned and disappeared inside once more. I took a sip of the ice-cold water. I was thirsty and hadn’t realized it. I drank every last drop and set the glass on the ground beside me.  I rocked slowly in the chair, letting my eyes drift closed as I hummed softly under my breath.  It was nice here and I really liked Jerry, even if he didn’t know who I was. Somewhere in the distance the sound of the tractor cut off.  A few minutes later a sweaty Jude bound up the steps. 

“Tired?” I asked.  He jumped at the sound of my voice, pushing damp hair from his eyes. “I’ll live,” he winked. “Your grandpa’s making dinner,” I told him.  “He was eating when we got here,” Jude groaned. “I’d joke that the man’s lost his mind, but that would be the truth,” he shrugged, sighing heavily. “And the truth makes for a pretty shitty joke.” “Do you stay here with him often?” I asked, unable to help myself as I remembered the room Jerry had shown me earlier. “A few times a week,” Jude admitted. “It depends on classes and how much time I have. This place isn’t exactly that close to school.” He shrugged.  “No one else takes care of him?” I asked. I was full of questions today.  Jude shook his head. “Only me.” Muttering under his breath, with venom lacing his words, he said, “No one else cares.” Something in my heart shifted.  I was beginning to realize that I’d misjudged Jude. I’d hated him for the stunt he pulled with Graham’s girlfriend and the part I’d believed it played in Graham’s death. I’d hated his whole playboy demeanor. I’d hated the way he always seemed to use women. But, the fact of the matter was, I didn’t really know him. Right now, this man in front of me, was the real Jude and he just might be worth getting to know.  “I’m going to shower before we go,” he informed me. “Pap will be mad if we don’t stay for dinner. I hope you don’t mind.” He appeared almost sheepish. “I don’t mind at all.” It was true. I liked Jerry and I hated to think of him sitting in this house eating dinner alone. In fact, I’m pretty sure it broke my heart. “Good.” Jude’s smile was wide, his eyes crinkling at the corners. With that, he disappeared inside and through the screen door. I could hear his boots slamming against the steps. I stayed outside for a moment longer, admiring the way the stars sparkled like new diamonds and the sounds of nature weren’t masked by car horns and chaos. Maybe there was a little bit of a country girl inside me. I stood and folded the blanket, draping it over my arm. I placed it back inside the basket I got it from and joined Jerry in the kitchen. “Can I help?” I asked, leaning against the doorway. My stomach came alive at the smell of whatever he was cooking.  He turned to look over his shoulder at me. “Of course, sweetheart.” I smiled at the term of endearment. I might not like Jude, but I was kind of falling in love with his grandpa.  As I approached, I noticed he was stirring something in a large pot with a wooden spoon. “You take over with this,” he told me. “I’ll get the table set.” I leaned closer to the pot and smelled. “Mmmm,” I couldn’t contain my hum of approval. I hadn’t had a home cooked meal like this in a long time. I could cook, but nothing I made could ever compare to how this smelled and I hadn’t even tasted it yet.  Jerry chuckled from somewhere behind me. “You like the smell of that.” “It smells so yummy,” I told him, stirring the mixture carefully. “That’s my Mama’s world famous chili. That recipe has been passed down for generations,” he explained, setting bowls and napkins on the table. Returning to my side he said, “That should be done now.” He peered down at the mixture and nodded. “It’s perfect.” He reached in front of me and turned off the stove eye. He picked up the pot, carrying it over to the table and placing it on a trivet.  “Julia, there’s some cornbread in the oven, could you grab that for me?” He asked. “Absolutely,” I replied, slipping an oven mitt on and reaching inside to pull out the pan. I placed it beside the chili and put the mitt back where I found it. Before I could sit down, Jude strode into the kitchen. “Something smells good,” he sniffed the air, reaching above his head to clasp the top of the doorway leading into the kitchen. I swore he did it on purpose because the gesture did amazing things for his muscular arms and the way his shirt pulled

taut over his chest hinted at a six-pack. And oh my God, I was staring—and not just at anyone, but at Jude Freakin’ Brooks.  Had my brain taken a vacation? I cleared my throat and hastily turned my head away. From the telltale smirk on his face he hadn’t missed the fact that I had checked him out. I was never going to live this down. “Andrew, stop gawking at the pretty girl and sit down and eat.” “Aye, aye, sir,” he saluted his grandpa. Jude and I sat side by side, facing his grandpa. He ladled out chili into all of our bowls and then bowed his head to say grace. Jude and I hastily followed suit, mimicking his position. Once that was done, we all ate like we were starved to death. I could understand why Jude and I were hungry, but his grandpa had eaten ‘breakfast’ when we got here. It broke my heart that the man was basically losing his mind. It was horrible—something no one should have to go through, and no loved one should have to watch.  I glanced at Jude out of the corner of my eye. He watched his grandpa carefully, his jaw clenched and his eyes lined with worry. If there was one person in the world that Jude loved, it was his grandpa. Today showed me that there was a depth to Jude anyone rarely saw. I might not like him, but I’d take this small gift he’d given me by showing his true colors.  “This is delicious, Jerry,” I spoke up. He smiled widely, pleased that I enjoyed it. “I’m happy to hear that. You should come over one day and I’ll teach you to make it.” “Really?” I lit up at the same time that Jude said, “Quiet, Pap.” “Certainly,” Jerry nodded at me. He narrowed his eyes at Jude, “Manners, boy.” “Sorry,” Jude bowed his head like a small child who’d just been scolded. It was so weird to see Jude cave so easily to everything his grandpa said. He respected and admired the man. Once dinner was done, Jude and I stayed to clean the dishes. On his way out of the room, Jerry said, “Make sure to fix a bowl of leftovers for her to take home.” “Will do,” Jude chimed, turning on the hot water and taking the bowls from my hands. “I’ll wash, you dry.” We stood side by side, cleaning and putting away the dishes used. If someone had told me a week ago that I would be in Jude’s grandpa’s house cleaning dishes I would have told them they were batshit crazy, flipped them the bird, and strode away.  But right now, there was no place I’d rather be.  I’d forgotten what it was like to sit down with other people and eat a meal. But it was more than that. There was a comfort present in this home that had long been absent from mine—even before Graham died. Sometimes, I think the mind has the ability to make you forget traumatic things, at least temporarily. I wondered what all I might have blocked myself from remembering.  “I hope he wasn’t too bad,” Jude murmured under his breath in case his grandpa still lurked near us. “I didn’t want to leave you alone with him, but I knew he wouldn’t quit asking me to mow and I if I didn’t do it, he’d try to and—” I surprised us both by reaching up and placing a finger against his lips. It effectively ceased his rambling, but now we were locked in a staring contest and I wasn’t sure who would look away first. Of course it was me.  Swallowing thickly, I continued to dry the already pristine bowl in my hands. “You had nothing to worry about,” I told him. “Your grandpa is pretty amazing.”  He chuckled. “You might be the only person that thinks so.” “Besides you,” I added, because we both knew it was true. He didn’t need to say it. “Yeah,” he cracked a smile, “I think he’s pretty amazing.” He looked over his shoulder, as if his grandpa was standing there, but I’d heard his footsteps ascend the steps a few minutes earlier. “I worry about him,” he whispered under his breath, then looked at me with soft brown eyes. I didn’t know how to handle this Jude. He was a stranger to me.  None of my normal bitchy comments would be appropriate right now. Jude was being oddly serious, and I needed to do the same. It was hard though, because I was afraid of being played. “I’m sure you do,” I gave him a reassuring smile. Because he’d opened up about why he wanted to be a nurse, and showed me a vulnerable side of himself that I hadn’t known existed before, I added, “I

worry about my mom.” “Your mom? Why?” His thick brows furrowed together. I let out a heavy sigh. My shoulders drooped with heaviness. “It’s a long story.” “I like stories.” His voice was soft with none of his normal joking tone. “This isn’t a story I want to tell,” I shrugged, setting the dish aside and taking the next one he offered me. Since it was the last, he pulled the plug from the sink and the soapy water swirled away. He leaned a hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. The action caused his short sleeve shirt to ride up a bit, exposing the smooth planes of his stomach and the dents that disappeared underneath the band of his jeans. Annnnd, I was staring. Again.  Jude noticed where my eyes lingered and a smirk lifted his full lips. “It’s okay to look, Tatum.” A blush stained my cheeks and I hastily turned away. I hated being flustered but I was beginning to feel like that’s all I ever was around Jude. “We better go,” he said, grabbing up two plastic containers full of chili—one for me and one for him. “It’s getting pretty late.” For the first time since we arrived on the farm I thought of my mother home alone with no one to take care of her. I couldn’t believe I’d completely forgotten her. What was wrong with me?  Jude pulled on a sweatshirt and held the front door open for me.  The small lights outside didn’t provide enough clarity for walking, so Jude guided me to his truck with a hand balanced above my waist. He held the door open for me as I climbed inside and then handed me the containers to hold on the ride home.  Neither of us said much, and it wasn’t until he dropped me off at campus to get my car that I realized he’d never asked me a question today.

“HEY, MR. JENKINS, HOW are you doing?” Jude asked the man lying in the bed as he glanced down at a chart.  “I’m doing better now that you’re here,” the man coughed, his entire small frame shaking with the movement. “None of these women ever want to talk about sports. It’s annoying.” Jude chuckled and pulled out a chair, sitting beside the man. He reached for his arm and started taking his pulse. “What do you want to talk about today?” “Baseball,” he responded.  As Jude took the man’s vitals he immediately lapsed into an easy conversation about different teams, stats, and a bunch of other things that sounded like he was speaking Martian. I’d been a cheerleader for a short time before Graham died, and I knew a little about football, but not enough to brag about. As Jude quieted, taking notes, the man asked, “Who’s this pretty lady? Your girlfriend?” “I’m not his girlfriend,” I spat before Jude could respond and I said it like it was the grossest thing imaginable. “She doesn’t know it yet,” Jude’s grin lifted his cheeks as he looked at Mr. Jenkins, “but one day I’m going to marry that girl.” “Over my dead body,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes as I stood in the corner jotting down notes for my paper. “I’m a nurse. I could revive you,” he quipped without a second of thought. Jude had an answer for everything. Turning towards the man lying in the bed, he told him, “She thinks she’s immune to my charm, but she’s not. No one is.” Looking back at me he winked.  I shook my head, feigning that I was disgusted, but I really wasn’t. With as much time as I’d spent with Jude in the past week of shadowing him, I’d gotten to the point that I could tolerate him. I was trying to watch what I said and not be rude, because I really hoped he’d take me back to his grandpa’s farm. I was dying to see it during the day. “Don’t worry,” Mr. Jenkins reached over and patted Jude’s hand, “she’ll come around one day.” Smiling at me with his brown eyes sparkling, he said, “I know.” “So, if you’re not his girlfriend, why are you here?” Mr. Jenkins addressed me. I wanted to laugh at his girlfriend comments. It seemed he, and everyone else, was convinced that we were dating.  “I’m writing a paper on nurses and how much work they have to do. It’ll cover more than that, but that’s just the gist of it,” I shrugged, twirling my pencil between my fingers from nerves.  “Interesting,” he commented, and then turned to Jude and started talking about sports again. In my time at the nursing home with Jude, I’d quickly learned that he took the time to get know

everyone. He knew personal details about each person he dealt with, and spent time talking to them. I’d seen several patients’ light up as soon as he entered their room.  I’d never known Jude had this side to him. I’d seen a glimmer of it the day at his grandpa’s, but with each additional day I spent with him a new layer of Jude was exposed. There was far more to Jude than I or anyone else ever knew. I think he wanted people to think he was dumb and nothing but a playboy because that was what was expected of him. In actuality, the man had more of a heart than anyone I knew. He surprised me with his kindness towards the patients he dealt with. Even when he had to deal with someone being fussy he stayed calm and kept a genuine smile on his face. It was obvious to me that he was doing what he loved by taking care of people. I hated to admit it, but I admired that about him. After talking to Mr. Jenkins for at least twenty minutes, Jude stood and with apology written in his voice he said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Jenkins, but I have to go. I’ll see you again soon, though.” “Take care,” Mr. Jenkins smiled at me, and then Jude. To Jude he whispered, but loud enough for me to hear him, “Don’t let that one get away.” “I don’t plan on it,” Jude assured him. I followed Jude out of the room and cornered him in the hallway. “Are nursing home patients performing some kind of matchmaking service for us or something?” Jude’s laugh bellowed around the hallway. “Why don’t you just admit that there’s something between us?” He smiled crookedly. “Everyone can see it, so why can’t you?” “I have twenty/twenty vision,” I replied easily, “clearly everyone else is simply seeing things.” “You have an answer for everything,” he muttered as he turned down the hallway to visit another patient.  For the rest of the evening I took notes and asked Jude questions. He always surprised me with his long, thought provoking answers. I wondered if he’d ever stop shocking me. Later that evening, we were getting into his truck when his cellphone beeped with a text message. Jude smiled at whatever the message said. “What is it?” I asked curiously. I couldn’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth.  “Rowan wants to know if we’d like to come over for dinner,” he shrugged.  “How does she know we’re together tonight?” I frowned. “It’s Rowan,” he chuckled, “she knows everything. You want to or not?” I thought of my mother sitting at home by herself, staring listlessly around at nothing.  A good daughter would refuse the invitation and go home to take care of her. But I was tired of being good. “Sounds like fun,” I replied, buckling my seatbelt. Jude smiled widely. He hadn’t believed I would agree. Was I really that predictable? We were quiet on the drive to the townhouse Rowan and Trent shared. A few minutes before we arrived, Jude said, “My grandpa has been asking about you.” “He has?” I don’t know why that fact made me light up so much.  “Yeah, he misses you. He still thinks you’re this mysterious Julia person though,” he chuckled. Even if to his grandpa I was simply a girl named Julia, that may or may not have ever existed, it still warmed my heart that he missed me. No one had missed me for a long time. “I’d like to see him again sometime,” I told him, my soft voice betraying a shyness I didn’t normally feel. “Really?” Jude seemed genuinely surprised by my admission. “Absolutely,” I nodded as we rounded the corner and the row of townhouses came into view. He didn’t say anything but the way his lips were pursed I knew he was mulling over my reply.  He parked the truck in front of the house and I hopped out before we could have another heart to heart.  I jogged up the front steps and rang the doorbell. Rowan let us inside and led us back through the house towards the kitchen. I screamed when I saw something furry scurry across the floor. Somehow, I ended up grabbing ahold of Jude’s arm and hiding half-behind him. As soon as I realized what I’d done I released him and stepped away, my cheeks tinged pink. “That’s just Bartholomew,” Rowan explained. At my continued befuddled appearance she added, “Trent’s ferret.”

“Oh,” I nodded, “the ferret. Of course. I thought it was a mouse,” I mumbled under my breath. “Dinner’s almost ready,” Rowan continued, “the table’s set, so you guys can sit down with the kids. Trent and I have this covered.”  She didn’t wait for us to reply, with a swish of her long light brown hair she was gone. Jude nodded his head towards the table. We didn’t make it very far before we heard, “Hey, Jude!” In a sing-song voice. “The kid never gets tired of that,” he chuckled. “At least he has good taste in music for a six year old,” I smiled. Tristan, Rowan and Trent’s son, appeared at the top of the stairs running down them towards us. Well, not us, but to Jude. Jude lowered so that the small boy crashed into his waiting arms, giving him a giant bear hug. Standing, Jude spun Tristan around, his high-pitched shrieks of delight echoing through the space. “Don’t kill my son!” Rowan called from the kitchen. “Fun sucker,” Jude and Tristan said at the same time.  I shook my head, looking around for Ivy—Rowan’s nine year old little sister that lived with them. She came down the steps too, although not as enthusiastically as Tristan. Ivy was a sweet girl, but I knew the last year or so had been rough on her emotionally. With her morose expression and overall melancholy appearance I wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug her. “Hi, Ivy, how are you?” I asked, suppressing a laugh as Jude ran around with Tristan’s arms wrapped around his neck, the boy hanging down his back like a cape. “I’m good,” she replied softly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She looked up at me with wide, doll-like, eyes. “How are you?” Ivy was always so polite, sounding more like someone middle-aged than the young girl she really was. “I’m doing okay. Your hair looks pretty like that,” I commented, noticing she had two strand pulled back in a braid, secured with an elastic.  “Thank you,” she smiled, maneuvering around me to get to the table. I sat down too, while Jude and Tristan continued to play.  Trent carried out a large dish, the scent of garlic and marinara lingering in the air. My stomach rumbled and I longed to dig in.  “Be careful with him,” Trenton warned Jude.  As soon as Trent was gone, Jude looked at me and rolled his eyes. He mouthed, “Overprotective.”  A few minutes later we were all seated, ready to eat.  Trent cooked most of their meals because he really enjoyed it. Tonight he’d made homemade lasagna. My mouth watered at the heavenly aroma. Between Jude’s grandpa and now this, I was getting spoiled.  Jude cut a piece and set it on my plate. I gaped at him and he shrugged, a small smile threatening to tug up his lips. His gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Rowan and she watched us sharply. She didn’t miss anything. I took a bite and flavors exploded across my tongue. Taking a sip of ice water, I told Trent, “This is delicious. Thanks for having us over.” Trent set his fork down, looking across at where Jude and I sat. “Wait…” His head swiveled towards Rowan. “Are they together now?” I snorted, not only at his question, but at how he addressed Rowan instead of us.  Rowan lifted a single brow, tilting her head towards Jude and I. “Well?” “No,” I said at the same time Jude replied with, “I wish.” “Hmm,” she mused, sitting back in her chair. She watched us closely, like we were a map she was trying to decipher. Clearing my throat, I went back to eating my food. I tried my hardest to ignore the heat infusing my cheeks. Trent, obviously, didn’t understand that I’d like the subject dropped because the next thing out of his mouth was, “I think you guys would make a great couple.” Was no one on my side? I felt like everyone was rooting for Jude and I to end up together, and frankly all I could think about was graduating college and the enormity of life as an adult. The last thing I needed to add into the mix was any sort of relationship, especially one with him.

“I think so too,” Jude smirked, tossing an arm over my shoulders. I shrugged off his touch like he carried some disease I might contract if he got too close. Yeah, I was totally acting like a little kid freaking out at the thought of ‘cooties’ but I didn’t care. Ignoring my gesture, Jude leaned his face towards mine, but looked at Trent and Row. “Don’t we look so hawt together,” he flipped his hand in the air, making his voice sound high and over exaggerating his words, “like we’d have the most adorable babies ever.” Despite myself, I couldn’t help giggling.  Tristan started to laugh too, and then everyone was laughing. Leave it to Jude to make me feel better by turning it into a joke.  Once our laughter dulled, Rowan moved the topic to more neutral grounds. “How’s your paper going?” I shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” I’d only rewritten it like ten times. It was my final paper and I wanted it to not only be perfect, but to mean something. I wanted to make an impact with the story and my words. “Come on Tater Tot, give us more than that,” Jude chimed in. “Tater Tot?” Tristan giggled, marinara sauce spread over his cheeks. “That’s a funny nickname.” I elbowed Jude in the ribs and mumbled, “Stop calling me that.” “Mommy says hitting isn’t nice,” Tristan’s eyes widened as he witnessed the gesture. “You should say you’re sorry and kiss it to make it better.” Jude leaned back in the chair so that only two legs rested on the ground. His brown eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter. I was in trouble now. Crap. “Yeah, Tate, kiss it and make it better. It hurts really bad.” He pouted his full lips and proceeded to pull his shirt up so that his side was exposed. I narrowed my eyes, opening my mouth to retort. Before I could say anything Rowan slapped her palms against the table. “God, you two are worse than children. I wish you’d just do it already to alleviate the tension!” Ivy giggled and Tristan looked from his mom and dad to us. “What do you want them to do mommy?” Rowan’s eyes widened and her cheeks colored. Trent saved her by leaning his elbows on the table and peering at his son. “She wants them to play Scrabble.” “Scrabble?” Tristan’s nose scrunched with confusion. “What’s that?” “It’s a board game,” Trent explained.  “Oh,” Tristan nodded, “I think we have that one. I’ll get it.” He wiped his small hands on a napkin, climbed off the chair, and ran into the living room. We all swiveled to look at Trenton. “What?” He shrugged, using his hand to cover his smile, “it was all I could think of.” A moment later Tristan called from the living room, “I can’t find it!” Rowan started to stand, but Trent urged her to sit. “I’ve got this,” he assured her, gazing at her lovingly. She instantly relaxed as his lips pressed tenderly against her forehead. Sometimes they were too much to handle, but I was truly happy for them. They had the kind of love that comes once in a lifetime and I only hoped I was lucky enough to find that one day. Trent brought Tristan back into the dining room sans the board game. “Sorry,” Tristan frowned, “we don’t have it.” “That’s too bad,” I said, reaching for the glass of water. I suddenly felt parched. We finished eating and the guys were relegated to babysitting duty while Rowan and I cleaned the dishes. I knew the real reason she stuck the guys together. She wanted to talk. Almost immediately she hissed under her breath, “What the hell is going on with you two?” “Honestly?” I asked, turning on the sink. “Of course.” “Nothing,” I shrugged simply. “Nothing?” She repeated. “That did not look like nothing in there.” “Trust me, it is,” I mumbled, adding soap to the water.  She cocked her hip to the side and stared me down. I squirmed beneath her penetrating gaze, wondering what she saw. Finally, she turned away, taking a dish from me so she could rinse and dry it. “You don’t see it, do you?” She finally asked after a minute or so had past. “See what?” I replied in confusion. “The way he looks at you.”

My head shot up to look at her. “See how who looks at me?” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me, Tatum. We both know you’re not stupid.” “He looks at me in no particular way,” I mumbled, looking back down at the white plate in my hand. “Did you know that since he started helping you with your paper he hasn’t been with any other girl?” I was shocked by her words but didn’t show it. “What do you mean by, ‘been with’?” I asked, scrubbing the same plate that already sparkled. She sighed dramatically and I knew she wanted to smack the back of my head. “If you want me to say it I will.” Before I could reply she said, “Jude hasn’t had sex with anyone since he started helping you.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her hip against the counter. “I know Jude well and Jude loves to tell me all about his exploits, even though I’d rather he didn’t.” Muttering under her breath she added, “I think he just likes to watch me freak out. Anyway,” she drew out the word, “my point is he’s been strangely quiet towards me. Are you guys…?” She trailed off, waiting for me to fill in the blanks. “No!” I cried, almost dropping the plate in the sink. Blowing a piece of hair out of my eyes I said, “You know how I feel about him.” “I do,” she agreed. “But I also know that your reasons for feeling that way are completely idiotic. I know he tends to act like a playboy and sometimes the biggest douche on the planet, but I wouldn’t be friends with him if I didn’t know he was a good guy.” Feeling angry, I snapped, “Can you leave it alone? Seriously, how I feel about him or anyone is none of your business. I have a right to not like him. I don’t care what you or anyone else says, he is the reason my brother is dead. I’m stuck with him until this paper is done and that’s it. Nothing more is going to happen.” She appeared hurt by my words but the cloudiness quickly cleared from her eyes. Sighing, she quirked a brow and snapped, “You keep telling yourself that, Tate. One day the sexual tension between you two is going to burst and I’m going to be able to say I told you so.” “What’s going on in here?” Jude asked, appearing in the doorway with Tristan hanging onto his leg crying for him not to leave.  “Nothing.” I answered before Rowan could speak. “Are you ready to go?” “Yeah,” he nodded, “if this guy here will decide to let me go.” He reached down, ruffling Tristan’s sandy hair. “Tristan,” Rowan sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Let him go. You can’t keep him here forever.” “Don’t leave!” Tristan cried, tightening his hold on Jude’s leg. Jude chuckled. “I’ve got to get Tater Tot over there home and it’s time for me to go to bed. Isn’t it time for you to go to bed too?” “I don’t wanna!” Tristan shrieked.  Rowan shook her head and mouthed, “I’m so sorry,” at Jude. “I have an idea,” Jude looked down at the little boy, “what if I read you a bedtime story before I go?” Almost immediately Tristan released his hold and scurried for the steps. “Brush your teeth and get in your pajamas!” Rowan called after her son.  “I’ve got it,” Jude assured her with a smile as he took off after the kid. Looking at me, Rowan sighed heavily showcasing how tired she was. “Kids are hard work.” “That they are,” Trent agreed, breezing into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around her, “but they’re worth it.” Nuzzling her neck, he murmured, “Let’s have another baby.” I laughed as she hastily wiggled out of his hold. “How about we try being married for the next one?” Pausing she added, “For like three years.” His mouth fell open. “But Tristan will be nine then! He deserves to have another sibling while he’s young enough to enjoy it.” Rowan rolled her eyes. “Talk to me again after we’re married.” She started to walk away and he called after her, “If it was up to me we’d already be married!”  She laughed, turning her head to smile at him. “You would’ve married me when we were sixteen years old Trenton Wentworth.” “Damn straight,” he grinned crookedly, his eyes sparkling with happiness, “even then I knew I’d found the love of my life.” “Bleh,” I pretended to gag. “Y’all are getting too sappy for me.” Trent chuckled. “One day it will be you, Tate.”

“Not likely,” I replied. “Love makes things complicated.” “No,” Trent disagreed, his eyes growing serious, “love makes life worth living for. No matter how bad your day is, or what kind of horrible shit you go through, loving someone completes you.” Cracking a smile, I joked, “Have you been reading poetry?” He chuckled, brushing his fingers through his dark, nearly black hair. “No.” Sobering he looked from Row to me, “We both just want you to find someone. Don’t hold yourself back from falling in love. Yeah, it’s scary as fuck, but it’s worth it. No matter what,” he looked significantly at Rowan, “it’s always worth fighting for.” “Seriously,” I assured them, “you don’t need to worry about me. It’s not like I’m anti-love. I’m just not at a place in my life where I’m ready for a serious relationship.” “Love doesn’t wait till you’re ready,” Rowan piped in. God, these two weren’t ever going to let it rest. “I haven’t found ‘the one’ yet,” I mumbled. “That’s not true,” Rowan whispered, looking at me sadly, “you’re just too stubborn to see what’s standing right in front of you.” “I think you’re too caught up in seeing something that isn’t really there,” I countered, jutting my chin in the air haughtily. Between the two of them I felt cornered. I wanted nothing more than to run out the door, but once again, Jude was my ride.  Neither of them said anything more, because Jude returned at that moment. I had never been more thankful to see him in my entire life.  “You ready?” He asked, looking at me first and then glancing at the other two. He could sense the tension in the air but chose not to mention it. “Yeah,” I told him, breezing past Trent and Row.  I didn’t say goodbye.

I BIT INTO THE APPLE, scanning the piece of paper in front of me. It was instructions for another paper due next week. The professors were throwing the work at us the closer we came to graduation. Spring break was coming up and I wanted to have everything done before I left for the beach with Trent and Row. “Afternoon, Tater Tot,” Jude slid into the seat across from me, his heavy bag thumping against the table. “What do you want?” I asked, never bothering to lift my head from the piece of paper in my hand. I took another bite of apple, chewing loudly. Out of my peripheral vision I saw Jude lean across the table and clasp his hands together. “I’m not at the nursing home tonight, as you know, but I thought we could do something anyway.” I set the apple down slowly, like it was a bomb, and let the piece of paper in my hand drift onto the surface of the table. “Like…hang out? With you for fun?” He chuckled, lowering his head so his dark hair swept into his eyes. “Well, you don’t have to make it sound like a death sentence. There’s something I want to show you, and I thought we could have dinner with Pap again. He’s been begging to see you.” Placing a hand over his chest, he pouted, “Don’t make me break my grandpa’s heart. He’s already in a fragile state.” Oh, he was guilt tripping me big time. I did want to see his grandpa again, though. “Fine,” I agreed, “but I have to go home first before we go.” “Deal. I’ll pick you up at five-thirty.”  “Yay,” I mumbled, feigning excitement. He smacked his hand lightly against the table. “By the end of the evening I promise I’ll have you smiling.”  I rolled my eyes as he stood, grabbed his bag and left. A moment later Rowan took the seat beside me. “What was that about?” I groaned loudly, causing a few heads to turn my way. “Did you watch the whole thing?” “It didn’t seem like I should interrupt,” she shrugged casually, unwrapping a sandwich she’d brought from home.  “I know you wish that there was something going on between us, but there’s absolutely nothing. We’re just…I really don’t know what we are,” I muttered. Jude and I were far from friends, but I didn’t quite feel like we were enemies anymore. The more I read Graham’s letter, it became clearer to me that Jude really didn’t have anything to do with his suicide. But I’d probably always associate Jude with that God awful day and the pain it caused me. That wasn’t something you got over easily.  She sighed heavily and before she could launch into a lengthy speech I interrupted her. “I don’t need to hear it, Rowan. There’s a lot about me that you and no one else knows. The last thing I need is the baggage of a relationship with anyone especially Jude. Please, let it go.” I begged,

pleading with my eyes for her to stop bugging me about it. She took a bite of her sandwich and I relaxed, thinking I was off the hook. Wrong. “I think I understand more than most people about how baggage can keep you from letting someone into your heart, but eventually you have to stop fighting it. Love is a beautiful thing, don’t let your past rule your future. I missed out on so much time with Trent,” tears pooled in her eyes, “because I fought so hard against what I felt for him. I’d give anything to get that time back, but I can’t. I don’t want to see you make my mistakes.” “How very motherly sounding of you,” I muttered. She laughed, “I am a mom, I guess it shows in everything I say.” Sobering, she frowned, “I worry about you a lot, Tate.” That made me feel bad. I didn’t want Rowan worrying about me. I was fine. I forced a smile and told her, “Honestly, you don’t need to worry about me.” “Alright,” she sighed again, “I won’t bring it up anymore.” I doubted that, but I didn’t say it out loud.  “Are you excited for spring break?” She asked, brushing breadcrumbs off her lap. “Definitely,” I nodded, finishing my apple. “I’m ready to get away.” I wasn’t sure what would happen to my mom while I was gone, and maybe it was selfish of me, but I couldn’t take being in that broken house for much longer. Besides, it wasn’t like I could live there forever. She needed to snap out of it, and maybe my dad could try being a concerned husband and actually take care of her for a change. Too much responsibility had been on my shoulders for too long. I guessed I was rebelling as an adult, not a teenager. It was bound to happen eventually—and maybe that made me a shitty person for giving up on my mom, but it had been seven long, hard years. I’d reached my limit and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to stop making choices based on everyone else and start living my own life.  “I’m worried about leaving the kids, but I know Trent’s mom will take good care of them. It’s hard though. We rarely leave them,” she frowned. Sometimes I really felt bad for Rowan and all the responsibility she had on her shoulders at such a young age, but she never, not once, complained about any of it. I admired her for that fact.  “They’ll be fine. Lily’s awesome,” I assured her. I’d only met Trent’s family on a few occasions but they were some of the nicest people I had ever met. “You’re right, but it’s impossible not to worry,” she shrugged. I stood, slinging my backpack on, and gathering my trash. “I’ve got to get to class. I’ll see you later.” “Are you going to the library tonight?” She asked before I could get away. “No,” I answered, “but I think you already knew that.”

SINCE I WAS HAVING dinner with Jude’s grandpa tonight, I only made enough dinner for my mom and dad—if he decided to come home tonight. He was gone more and more. I couldn’t even recall the last time I saw him. I set the plate in front of my mom where I’d seated her at the kitchen table. She stared at the food like she had no idea what it was. “Mom, it’s spaghetti. Your favorite.” Her vacant green eyes that were the same shade as mine, peered up at me. “Please, eat,” I begged.  Her head lowered to look at the food once more. I wanted to take the plate and smash it against the floor. I wanted to yell and scream and pull my hair. I wanted to cause a scene. I’d only ever done it once, but it had done no good, and I knew now would be no different.  My mom was gone and she was never coming back. All I had left was this shell.  I groaned and muttered, “Whatever. I don’t care anymore.” With my words still lingering in the air, I left the kitchen and headed upstairs to my room. I changed my clothes, but kept it simple in jeans and a loose gray sweatshirt. I pulled my hair to the side and braided it before sweeping a pale pink gloss across my lips. I wasn’t trying to look nice for Jude, I wasn’t even getting that dressed up, but for once I wanted to feel like a normal girl going out for a while instead of the hermit I’d become. Life had been passing me by for far too long and it was time for me to take control again. I held the reigns of my future and I was doing an about-face. It was time

for me and everyone else to discover the real Tatum O’Connor. My phone beeped from my pocket and I pulled it out to see a text from Jude telling me he was waiting outside. I bound down the steps and to the front door. Just before I opened it, I called, “Bye, mom!” Although, she probably didn’t even hear me. Jude stood beside his truck, leaning against the passenger door. As I approached he opened the door and I hopped inside. He slid into the driver’s seat and said, “Someone seems eager to see me.” His grin spread across his face, lightening his eyes to a golden color.  “More like eager to get out of the house,” I mumbled. He nodded his head sympathetically like he understood.  Buckling the seatbelt, I asked, “Where are we going?” He snorted, driving out of the neighborhood. All the houses looked the same, blending together. I wondered if the people living behind the walls were aware of how bad things were for me, or were they oblivious to everything but their own lives? Probably the latter. “Where’s the fun in telling you?” He responded. I should’ve known to expect that kind of answer from him.  I sat back in the seat and brought my feet up against the dashboard, resolving not to ask him any more questions. Surprisingly, he grew quiet. I didn’t know he could go a minute without filling a void with the sound of his voice.  A little while later he turned down a familiar dirt road. “I thought we were doing something before we went to your grandpa’s?” I asked, as the trees grew plentiful. They were only beginning to bud, but there were so many of them that they provided a decent amount of shade. “We are.” That’s all he said on the matter and I knew I wouldn’t get anything else out of him. Suddenly, he stopped the truck, putting it in park.  I looked around, waiting to see something profound. “Why are we stopping here?” I asked, when I didn’t see anything but grass and trees.  “I hope you don’t mind walking,” he smiled, reaching into the back of his truck for something. “It’s about a mile walk to get where we’re going.” “I’ll be fine,” I assured him just as he dropped whatever he’d been looking for into my lap. I picked up the Shenandoah University sweatshirt and stared at it. “Why do I need this? I’m already wearing a sweatshirt.” He narrowed his eyes at what I wore. “Uh, yeah, that thin thing isn’t going to do anything to keep you warm. Put the sweatshirt on and don’t argue with me. I won’t have you getting sick on my conscious.” “Do you even have a conscious?” I countered, pulling the sweatshirt on. It was warm from the heat of the car and smelled woodsy and masculine with something else that I couldn’t put my finger on that was inherently Jude.  He grabbed another sweatshirt from the back and shrugged it on before climbing out of the truck with a blanket tucked under his arm. I did the same, standing by the fence as he came around. He tossed the blanket over the fence and grabbed ahold of the top part of the fence and hoisted himself over with one easy jump. Um, yeah…there was no way I could do that in these jeans. It wasn’t that the fence was that high or anything, but I wasn’t sure I was graceful enough not to make a fool of myself. I’m sure Jude would find it absolutely hysterical if I fell on my face.  He held out a hand for me. “Just put your feet on the bottom piece and lift your leg over. I’ll help you.” I looked at him hesitantly.  He thrust his hand towards me again. “Come on, Tater Tot, just take my hand. I would never let you fall.” I reluctantly did what he asked and let him help me over. Somehow, on my way to the other side I lost my balance and my body slammed into his. We fell to the ground but somehow Jude maneuvered us so that he took the brunt of the fall. He grunted from the impact and then again when my elbow hit his ribs by accident.  “I’m so sorry!” I immediately jumped to my feet. Jude was sprawled on the ground with brown pieces of grass stuck in his hair. He seemed stunned, but then he started to laugh. “I said I wouldn’t let you fall and then you went and tackled me. I wasn’t prepared for that pretty girl.” “I’m so sorry,” I repeated, heat infusing my cheeks at my clumsiness. I was so mortified that I was

even able to overlook him calling me ‘pretty girl’.  He sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m okay.” He clambered to his feet, dusting dirt and grass from his clothes. He picked up the blanket that had fallen to the ground and started walking. I had no choice but to follow him. The dead grass crunched beneath my feet as we trudged through the field. It was crazy to think that in a few short weeks spring would be here and the grass would soon be green. Spring was my favorite time of year. I loved the colors and flowers, even the smells. There was something so promising about spring—it was a new beginning. Jude stopped in the middle of the field and spread the blanket out on the ground. “Sit,” he instructed. With a reluctant sigh, I did as he told me. “Why are we out here?” I asked, drawing his sweatshirt closer to me as I shivered.  “I want you to see something.” “Thanks for the non-answer,” I mumbled as he sat down beside me. He wiggled around until he got comfortable. He chuckled, sweeping his hair from his eyes. “There’s something I want you to see,” he repeated, “be patient.” You’d think Jude would know by now that I was the least patient person on the planet. Only a few minutes had past when I asked, “What are we waiting for?” “Oh, Tate,” he chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he lay back, propping his body up with his elbows, “you’re something else.” Tilting his head, he continued, “Look around you, appreciate what’s right in front of you for a change. You need to slow down and enjoy life.” “Look at you sounding so wise,” I commented, resisting the sudden urge to smile. I wanted to smile a lot around Jude and that scared me a bit. He gasped, his eyes brightening. “I am wise.” He sat up and drew his knees up, draping his arms on top. “Now watch, here comes the surprise.” For a moment, I wondered what he was talking about and then I realized we were watching the sunset. The sky deepened with hues of orange and red as the sun descended. My mouth fell open in awe as the meadow around us became awash with golden light. I didn’t speak and neither did he. For once, I was living in the moment, and maybe this moment wasn’t such a bad place to be. There was calmness in the air around us as the last of sun’s rays fanned across the land. It didn’t take long for the sun to disappear and for the stars and moon to twinkle above us.  Without saying anything, we both lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky above. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He whispered, his fingers brushing lightly against mine where we rested side by side. “What?” I asked, trying to pick out any of the constellations. “Nature…everything…you.” I felt his eyes staring at the side of my face and I turned to look at him. “Jude—” He placed a warm finger on my lips. “Don’t say anything. Please, don’t ruin this moment for me.” I shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. “I don’t know you at all,” I admitted, feeling ashamed of all the judgments I’d made of him. Knowing Jude in high school, and after what happened with Graham, I’d turned him into this horrible person in my mind but he really wasn’t the guy I thought he was. People are always spouting about not judging one another, but we all do it, and I’d been completely unfair with my assumptions of the man looking at me. I’d held onto childish notions making him into the bad guy, when he really wasn’t. It was so much easier to blame him, though. But easier doesn’t always mean better. “No, you don’t,” he breathed, scooting closer to me so that there was barely any space between our bodies. He turned away from me to look back up at the night sky. “We didn’t ask any questions today.” “No, we didn’t.” “I don’t even know what to ask,” he chuckled. “I’ll go first then,” I smiled, even though he didn’t see it. I racked my brain for something to ask him. I didn’t want it to be something stupid or irrelevant. Finally, I breathed, “Why me? Why am I different?” He chuckled, turning to look at me again. His gaze was intense as he grinned. “That was two questions, Tater Tot.” “They’re similar, so it counts as one.” I stuck my tongue out at him. Sobering, his eyes darkened as he gazed at me. I saw a million different things in his eyes, none of which I could figure out. “Because you just are.” 

I laughed, “That’s a really sucky answer and you know it.” “It’s the truth,” he lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “Even in high school there was always something about you that caught my eye.” Chuckling, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think you carved a permanent spot in my heart when you kicked me in the balls. You were so beautiful and fierce.”  “You’re a strange guy, Jude Brooks,” I shook my head. “Most guys would be turned off if a girl did that to them.” “What can I say?” He smirked. “I’ve always been different.” He shifted so he hovered above me. My breath stuttered at his proximity. “You wanna know what I think is the most attractive thing about you?” “What?” I whispered, scared to move. “That you’re completely unaware of how beautiful you are.” I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t. He lowered his head, and my heart rate picked up, convinced that he was going to kiss me. I turned my head away before he could try anything and he sank down beside me, letting out a heavy sigh.  Wanting to alleviate the awkward tension hanging in the air, I said, “Your turn.” He bit his lip, thinking carefully before searing me with his dark brown eyes. “Do you think you’ll ever stop hating me?” I wasn’t expecting that question and was unprepared with how to answer. After a moment, I replied honestly. “I don’t know.” I knew that wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was all I had. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “At least that’s better than no.” With a groan, he stood and held out a hand to help me up. I reluctantly placed my hand in his, ignoring how my whole body zinged at the touch. He draped the blanket over his arm and we headed back to the truck. It didn’t take long for the house to appear and it was just as beautiful as I remembered it. “I know it’s not the nicest place—” Jude started but I quickly cut him off. “It’s magical.” Before I could feel embarrassed by my words I jumped out of the truck.  His grandpa was expecting us and opened the door before I could step up onto the porch. His smile widened and then he asked, “Jude, who’s this pretty girl? Have you finally settled down?” Jude chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “This is Tatum, she’s a…” He peered at me, tilting his head, “friend from school.” His grandpa snorted. “I’m old, not blind.” Turning to head inside, he kept a hand on the door and said, “Come on in, Tatum.” “Play along,” Jude mouthed unnecessarily. “You know,” his grandpa chuckled as he headed to the kitchen, “I should’ve known you weren’t his girlfriend. You’re too pretty for him.” I laughed at the same time Jude groaned, “Pap!” “What?” Jerry shrugged innocently. “It’s true.” Jude shook his head, muttering under his breath before asking, “What did you make for dinner? Something smells delicious.” “Pulled pork,” Jerry replied, setting a platter on the table and waving his hand for us to sit. We had no more than started to eat until he asked me, “Jude said you were a friend from school, what are you studying?” “Journalism,” I answered, waiting for the dirty look. Anytime I told people what I was studying they would cringe and tell me, ‘good luck with that.’ Jerry didn’t do that. His smile widened. “Good for you.” As we ate, he lapsed into tales of Jude and all the shenanigans he’d pulled on the farm. Like trying to ride a cow, falling off the tractor when he was ten and breaking his arm, and skinny dipping with the girl on the next farm over at fourteen. Jude shrugged sheepishly at that one.  “Always a ladies man, that one,” Jerry chuckled. “I’d like to see him settle down before I die.” “Pap!” Jude groaned, setting his fork down. “How many times have I told you not to talk about that?” “Face it, boy, we all die someday and it’s looking like my someday is around the corner. Between my age and my mind, I’m a ticking bomb.”

Jude frowned, his shoulders slumping with sadness. “I don’t like to think about it,” he mumbled. “I ain’t going to live forever,” Jerry tried to get Jude to look at him, “might as well accept that fact.” “I’m not very hungry anymore,” Jude pushed away from the table and stormed from the room without looking at either of us. I heard his boots pound against the steps. Jerry sighed and looked at me sadly. “I practically raised him. He looks at me like I’m his father, and that makes it that much harder for him to accept that I won’t be here much longer.” “Jude isn’t close with his dad?” I questioned. I’d picked up on some animosity there, but I hadn’t wanted to ask him about it. “No,” Jerry shook his head sadly, “Andrew, my son, was never a real father to him. My wife and I took him in and practically raised him. It was hard on him when my wife, Mae, died a few years ago.” His brows furrowed together and I was sure he was trying to remember exactly how long it had been since she passed. “Jude doesn’t have much to do with either of his parents. I love my son, but let’s just say he and his wife weren’t cut out to be parents. Jude was merely an accessory for them.” “That’s horrible.” Something in my heart shifted, a small piece filling with compassion for the man I’d blamed for the worst event in my life. I hated myself for making so many assumptions about him. I’d never given him a fair shot and that made me a pretty sucky person.  “It is,” Jerry agreed. Sliding my plate away, I said, “Would you mind if I went and checked on him?” “Not at all,” he smiled. I started to leave, but his next words stopped me in my tracks and I leaned against the doorway for support. “Be kind to him, Tatum. He needs someone in his life besides me to care about him.” I swallowed thickly and didn’t look back at Jerry as I headed out of the room and up the steps. I found Jude in his room, sitting on the bed with his back to me. His shoulders shook and I frowned, realizing that he was crying. Jude Brooks had feelings. Who knew? I took a hesitant step into the room. I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome. “Jude,” I said his name softly as I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder, “are you okay?” “No,” he looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes, “I’m not.” I sat down beside him and laid my head on his shoulder. Air escaped his lips in a sigh.  “Do you want to talk about it?” I whispered, gazing out the window at the night sky. “Yes. No. I don’t know,” he mumbled, rubbing his face tiredly. “It really fucking sucks to know he isn’t going to be here for much longer and there’s nothing I can do about it. I hate being helpless.” “It’s okay to be sad or angry or whatever it is you need to feel, but he isn’t gone yet. Enjoy every moment you have left with him, that way you’ll never have any regrets.” “You make it sound so simple,” he chuckled humorlessly, “but there’s nothing simple about watching someone you love disappear right before your eyes...” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “It’s not even the thought of his death that upsets me, it’s the thought of what comes before…how he’ll completely forget me and I’ll cease to exist in his mind.” “We can’t live our lives worrying about the unknown,” I stated. “Every day and what it brings is a mystery, a gift to be unwrapped and treasured. All we can do is find happiness in the little things and peace in the chaos.” He was quiet, absorbing my words. “I can so tell you’re a writer.” I laughed. “It’s not about being a writer, I’m just a deep thinker.” We sat like that for a while, side by side with my head on his shoulder.  Eventually, we headed back downstairs and helped Jerry clean the dishes. I gave the man a hug before we left, holding him tight.  “You come back now,” he told me, walking out onto the porch as Jude and I headed towards his truck. “I will,” I assured him, wondering when I returned whether I’d be Tatum or Julia.

JUDE PARKED HIS TRUCK in front of my driveway, and turned to face me. “Thank you for coming with me tonight.” “Thanks for inviting me,” I smiled, grabbing the handle to open the door. “Tate?” “Yeah?” I looked back at him.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, his eyes darkening. He leaned closer, and pressed his lips against my cheek in a kiss that was so light it didn’t even seem real. My eyes fluttered closed and I sighed breathlessly. I hoped he didn’t notice but based on his smirk my reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed.  I forced my Jell-O-like limbs from the truck and watched his taillights disappear as he left. I brought shaking fingers up to my cheek and swore my skin felt heated where his lips had seared it like a brand.  It wasn’t until I was inside and getting in my pajamas that I realized I still wore his sweatshirt and I had no intentions of giving it back.

I STRODE ACROSS CAMPUS, looking for Jude. He hadn’t been waiting for me by the fountain like he said, so I figured he was at his truck. I heard shouting up ahead and slowed my steps.  I wasn’t sure if I should turn around and haul ass away from whatever was going on or check it out.  Since I wasn’t ever one to back down from anything, I strode forward with my shoulders squared. If some idiots were fighting, I figured I could either break it up, find someone to help, or ignore it if need be. When I rounded the side of the building and the parking lot came into view, I saw two large figures arguing on the sidewalk. Hairs on the back of my spine stood up as I recognized one of the guys as Jude. No wonder he hadn’t been at the fountain. He was clearly occupied trying to defend himself against the mammoth hovering above him. The guy swung out and his fist connected with Jude’s face, causing him to stagger a few steps back. Without thinking, I dropped my books on the ground and ran towards the guy. “What the hell is your problem?” I screamed at him. “My problem,” he shoved a finger in Jude’s direction where he hovered behind me, “is that prick sleeping with my girlfriend.” “I didn’t fucking sleep with her!” Jude cried.  I didn’t care whether he had or not, something inside me felt the need to defend him.  The guy tried to lunge for Jude again, and I cocked my leg back to kick him. My foot connected sharply with his kneecap and he dropped to the ground. I think he was more stunned than hurt.  I stood there, my mouth hanging open in shock that I’d actually managed to bring a guy of his size to the ground. That was a pretty damn awesome, if I did say so myself. Jude busted out laughing. I still stood rooted to the ground in disbelief at the lump on the ground. The guy growled, trying to stand. Jude grabbed my hand and screamed, “Run!” Like two little kids we ran across campus, laughing heartily at what had transpired. When my legs threatened to give out Jude opened a random door to one of the buildings and we tumbled inside. We were both out of breath, our cheeks flushed. “That was fun,” he panted.  “Fun?” I questioned, unable to keep the smile from my voice. “I think he wanted to kill us.” The hallway was dark, everyone having gone home, but I tilted my head trying to see what was on his face. “Oh my God! Jude! You’re bleeding!” His brows pulled together, like he hadn’t even noticed it. He reached up, touching above his upper lip and then staring at the red now coating his fingers. “It’s just a little bit of blood, Tate.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be macho. Come on,” I grabbed his clean hand and started towing him down the hall, “I have a First-Aid kit in my bag.” “Of course you do,” he laughed. “What else do you have in there?” I looked over my shoulder at him and shrugged. “You’ll never know.” There was a bathroom at the end of the hall and I pulled him into it. He looked around and grinned. “So, this is what the girl’s bathroom looks like.” “Oh, please,” I snorted, “I’m sure you’ve had sex in plenty of bathrooms.” He hopped up on the counter, letting and his laugh bellowed around us. “First off, just because I like to have sex doesn’t mean I want to do it in public places. Secondly, if I did have sex in the bathroom,” he shrugged, smiling crookedly, “it’s not like I’d be paying much attention to my surroundings.” My mouth fell open and his grin widened. “Just sayin’.” He held his hands up innocently. “You’re disgusting.” I mumbled, rifling through my bag. “Hey, you’re the one that kicked a guy for me,” he defended. Chuckling, he scratched his chin. “That was pretty badass of you.” “I’m not a princess.” “No, you’re not,” he agreed. I finally located my First-Aid kit. I set it on the counter and began rifling through it for what I needed. I pulled out a wad of cotton balls and dampened them with rubbing alcohol. I wasn’t sure if he was cut, or if the blood was from his nose, but I wanted to be on the safe side and try to avoid any sort of infection. “This might sting,” I warned. “I know. I’m a nurse, remember?” “Of course,” I laughed, my hair falling forward as I reached up to wipe away the blood. Even with him sitting on the counter he was still a lot taller than me and I had to stretch up on my tiptoes to reach. I noticed his eyes flick down and he swallowed thickly. “If you’re trying to look down my shirt I will punch you.” His eyes immediately flew up to look at the ceiling. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m a guy. You put boobs right in my face and I have to look. I’m pretty sure it’s a law or something.” I wanted to be mad, but I couldn’t help but laugh. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so much. It seemed weird that of all people it would be Jude that made me laugh again, but then again maybe it was appropriate. Wiping away all traces of blood, I inspected his face.  “You know,” he started, “it’s kind of funny that I’m the nurse and you’re the one taking care of me.” “I’m not the one that got punched,” I replied easily. “Everything looks fine. You might bruise though.” “Tate,” he whispered my name and I found myself held in his brown-eyed gaze. It was like I was hypnotized—caught in his trap.  Before I could reply, or do anything, one of his hands cupped the nape of my neck and drew me close. My breath fanned out of my lips and my heart beat rapidly. It was like everything was moving super fast, but super slow at the same time. It was weird. He closed the distance between us and sealed my lips with his. I lost control of my body, leaning into him as he devoured me. I let out a small moan and my fingers tangled in the soft strands of his brown hair. I never wanted to let go. His tongue pressed against my lips, seeking entrance. Nothing had ever felt this good. This was so much more than a kiss. I couldn’t get close enough to him. Our bodies lined up perfectly and my chest pressed against his as I leaned closer.  “Tate,” he breathed my name in the space between our lips.  I startled at the sound of his voice. I jolted away from him, breaking the kiss. It was like my hand had a mind of its own as it flew out and smacked his cheek. His head swiveled to the side, stunned by my action. I used the same hand to cover my mouth as I gasped, “I’m sorry! I-I don’t know what made me do that!” “Jesus Christ,” he rubbed his cheek, “what is today? Everyone-smack-Jude-in-the-face-day?” He started to laugh and I was tempted to hit him again. “It’s not funny.” “You’re right, it’s hysterical,” he countered. I felt defensive so I took a few steps back and straightened my clothes. “Never kiss me ever again.” I

turned hastily, pushing open the bathroom door and out into the hallway. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.  “Aw, come on, Tate!” Jude called after me. “You know you liked it!” Didn’t he know that was the problem? “It was gross,” I called over my shoulder. “I felt like I was drowning in saliva.” “Oh, Tater Tot,” he laughed, “that’s a new one. Most people love my kisses,” he grinned. He caught up to me easily, slinging his arm over my shoulders as I pushed the door open and stepped outside. I hoped that guy had left. I’d hate to run into him again.  “I’m not most people,” I retorted. “You’re not,” he agreed. “Oh, crap!” I exclaimed suddenly, stopping in my tracks. “What is it?” Jude asked, stopping as well and looking at me quizzically. “My books!” I cried, burying my face in my hands. “Don’t worry about them, we’ll just go back and get them,” he turned, ready to head back in the direction of the bathrooms. “They’re not there,” I put a hand on his arm to halt him. “I threw them down on the ground when I jumped between you and that guy.” Jude gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You mean that you threw those poor defenseless books so you could help me? I’m honored.” “You’re such an ass,” I groaned, looking around to get my bearings on campus, so I could head back in the direction we came from. I really hoped they were still there. Nibbling my lower lip, I looked up at Jude. “What if someone took them?” He shrugged. “So what? It’s not the worst thing that could happen. At least you’re alive.” “Thanks,” I grumbled. “That makes me feel loads better.” A grin spread across his face. “Glad I could be of assistance.” When I headed in the wrong direction, he grabbed my arm. “Nuh-uh, pretty girl, it’s this way.” “Oh,” I mumbled, with eyes downcast.  “You know,” he grinned boyishly, “I think I need to change your nickname to Rambo.” I rolled my eyes. “How about no nicknames?” “Where’s the fun in that?” He countered. We approached the area where I’d seen him arguing with the guy and I scanned the ground for my books. Luckily, they were there. Albeit, covered in dirt. I picked them up, brushing off the debris.  “You ready to go?” Jude asked as he pulled his keys from his pocket. After the kiss, I thought maybe I should back out, but this was for my paper and Jude would know what was up if I said I needed to go home. “Yeah.”  He seemed surprised. “Good, let’s go. We’re running late and I didn’t have time to change into my scrubs.” We rode in silence on the way to the nursing home—neither of us acknowledging the kiss. I knew it wouldn’t be long until Jude had to say something. He wasn’t the kind of guy to keep quite about something like that.

JUDE DIDN’T BRING UP the kiss until we were almost back to campus so I could get my car.  “We haven’t asked any questions today,” he smiled. “You first.” “Did you really sleep with that guy’s girlfriend?” I asked immediately. It had been bugging me. Even though Jude had denied it to the guy he could’ve been lying. The answer shouldn’t have mattered to me, but for some reason it did.  “I didn’t,” he assured me, sincerity shining in the depths of his eyes. “I don’t know why he thinks I did, but I didn’t. In fact,” he looked at me significantly, “I haven’t slept with anyone for weeks.” I blanched at his words. Was he saying that he’d given up his man-whore ways because he was spending time with me? I couldn’t even begin to process that information. Rowan had said as much but it still baffled me. “My turn,” he said, straightening in his seat. I waited for him to ask his question, but after a long moment of silence I figured he couldn’t think of anything. Finally, his voice filled the cab of the truck, and the next words he spoke echoed around my skull. “Can I kiss you

again?” Jude Brooks was asking me for permission? This was new. “I thought you were the kind of guy who takes what he wants and doesn’t ask questions?” I replied.  “You’re right,” he grinned, and I knew I was in trouble. As the truck came to a stop at a red light he grabbed the back of my neck and tugged my body against his, sealing his lips over mine. Every time his lips touched mine it was like he stole a piece of my soul and made it his.  This time, I didn’t pull away—or slap him like I should have—instead I let myself feel. I’d closed myself off from my emotions for so long that I’d forgotten what it felt like to have this scary, stirring of butterflies feeling in my stomach. I couldn’t believe it was Jude of all people making me feel this way, but a kiss was innocent enough, right? Well, maybe not this kiss, ‘cause it was pretty freakin’ hot. The cars honking behind us was what finally tore us apart.  “I’m going to do that again sometime,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over my lips before pressing the gas and taking off.  I felt giddy, almost high, from the kiss. I wanted to hate it, God I really did, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know the exact moment that Jude paved a way into my heart, all that mattered was he did, and I was never going to be the same once I gave in completely.

I WAS SURPRISED TO see my dad’s car in the driveway. While it was late, it wasn’t that late and even before Graham died he’d never been home at this time. Nowadays he rarely even bothered to come home to sleep. I didn’t know where he stayed most nights. My guess was that it wasn’t at his office. I didn’t like to think about the possibility of my dad cheating on my mom, but I wasn’t naïve enough to think he hadn’t.  I stepped inside, looking around for him. I didn’t see him, though. He was probably only home to grab something before leaving once more. It was what I’d come to expect. In the last six months, I’d only seen him a handful of times. There were other times I’d known he’d been home, the evidence left sitting around in the form of mugs of coffee and packets of sugar.  My mom sat on the family room couch. I stepped into the room and kissed her forehead. “I’ll make dinner mom.” She didn’t acknowledge my words. I didn’t expect her to. It would shock me if I ever heard her voice again. I honestly wondered why my dad had never tried to get her help. Maybe he knew it was hopeless. In the kitchen I pulled out ingredients to make fettuccine alfredo. I loved pasta, and would live off the stuff if I weren’t afraid of clogging my arteries. I grabbed my iPod, set it on the docking station, and let the music filter into the too quiet kitchen. I didn’t think it would ever stop bothering me that so few words were spoken in this house anymore. I was humming along to a song, when I heard, “Tatum.” I jumped, letting out a squeal. The spoon I’d been using to stir the sauce went flying through the air and landed on the floor, sauce splattering everywhere. “Hi, dad,” I squeaked, taking in the tall man in front of me. He was slimmer than the last time I saw him, his light hair mostly gray now. Lines that weren’t there a few months ago turned his mouth down in a permanent frown. My dad had never been a happy man anyway.  “It’s nice to see you.” His voice was low and gravelly. “Uh, yeah,” I tucked a piece of blonde hair behind my ear, feeling über awkward, “it’s nice to see you too?” For some reason it came out sounding like a question. “What are you making?” He asked, peering around me to get a look at the pots on the stove. “Fettuccine alfredo,” I replied. “Oh,” he nodded. “Are you staying for dinner?” I dared to ask. “No.” Of course. I expected it, but it still hurt.  “Alright,” I sighed, picking the spoon off the floor and tossing it in the sink. I grabbed another from

the drawer and returned to making dinner after cleaning up the mess. “I’ll see you later, dad.” And by later I meant a month from now. “Bye kiddo,” he said from the doorway. Minutes passed, and I thought he’d left, but then he said, “You seem happy.” By the time I whipped around, he was gone and I was left mulling over his words.  I was happy, and that was all thanks to the guy I was hell-bent on hating.  They always said hate was as passionate as love. I was starting to see how true that was.

“TWIZZLERS, MILADY,” JUDE SING-songed, dropping a plastic bag from Sheetz in front of me.  I looked in the plastic green bag and pulled out the pack of Twizzlers. “You’re awesome.” I tore open the wrapping and pulled out one of the red pieces of licorice.  “You look like you need a pick me up,” he shrugged, sliding out the chair across from me. “I wanted some gummy bears,” he shook another bag in his hand, “so when I saw those I thought I’d get them for you.” “Thank you,” I told him, taking another bite. I stared at the computer screen in front of me, wishing the words would magically appear. I was still having trouble with my paper—the one Jude was helping me with. I couldn’t seem to find the proper words to convey what I needed to say. I wanted my words to be powerful, and everything I wrote sounded weak to me. “Where’s Rowan?” He asked, looking around the library.  “She must be running late,” I shrugged, glaring at the damn blinking cursor on my word document. I swore the thin black line was mocking me.  “Having trouble?” He asked, opening the bag of gummy bears and popping a green one in his mouth. I detested the green ones. And the yellow ones. Actually, I hated all gummy bears after my last incident with them. Nasty little things. They looked so cute and innocent with their tiny bodies and little faces. Douse them in vodka and they could take out anyone. “Can you get those away from me?” I pointed at the bag of gummy bears, fighting my gag reflex. He slid the bag on his lap, chuckling under his breath. “And yes, I’m having trouble. I can’t get my paper to sound right,” I frowned. “I feel like I can’t convey the proper emotions.” “Well,” he started, chewing on an orange gummy bear, “why don’t you try not overthinking it.” “It’s not that simple,” I mumbled, musing my hair—I was sure it looked like a rat’s nest with as many times as I had ruffled it in the last hour.  “Yes it is,” he argued, propping his feet up on the table. “You have to let yourself feel.” “Feeling gets me in trouble,” I mumbled. Like letting Jude kiss me again in his truck. I shouldn’t have let him do that. But I did and it was amazing, but now I felt conflicted. He was breaking down all the walls I’d spent the last seven years building around my heart. He was forging a special place in there for himself and I didn’t know what I’d do when he inevitably screwed it up. A person could only be hurt so many times before they fell apart completely, and I thought I’d met my quota. “Is it that it gets you in trouble?” He repeated my words. “Or that it scares you?” He tapped his fingers along the wooden tabletop. “Never let fear dictate your life.” “Why do I feel like we’re no longer talking about my paper?” I breathed. “Because, we’re not.” He took off the beanie he wore, tousled his hair, and replaced it. “You don’t scare me.” I stated, tilting my head slightly to the side. “I know I don’t,” he replied immediately. He leaned forward and his voice dropped low, like he was

letting me in on a secret. “But what you feel for me…that’s what scares you.” I squirmed in my seat. “That’s not true.” “You’re such a bad liar, I almost feel sorry for you,” he replied, returning to his previous position with his legs perched on the table. I ignored him and went back to staring at my computer screen. With a groan of frustration I saved what I had written and slammed the lid closed. “This is pointless.” “Want to go get ice cream?” He suggested. “I hear that makes everything better.” “Didn’t you just eat a whole bag of gummy bears?” “It was half a bag. Big difference,” he grinned, letting his feet drop to the ground. He stood and stretched his arms above his head. The movement caused his shirt to ride up, exposing the bottom of his smooth stomach. I wished I wasn’t staring, but I was. I was looking at him a lot lately, and not with hate in my eyes. What had become of me? “What do you say? Ice cream?”  He must’ve known I could never say no to ice cream.  “Sure.” I stood, packing up my stuff. It wasn’t like I’d been getting a lot accomplished anyway. On our way out of the library we ran into Rowan. She paused in her steps and her grin said it all—she was exited at the idea of Jude and I spending time alone.  “Where are you guys going?” She asked, adjusting her hold on her books. “To get ice cream,” Jude replied. “Ice cream?” With her smile widening, she said, “I notice you didn’t invite me.” Jude’s smile mirrored hers. Looking from me to Rowan, he shrugged. “You wanna get ice cream? I’m buying.”  “No, but thanks anyway.” She suppressed a laugh, hiding her growing smile behind her free hand.  “See you later, Row,” Jude lowered his head and kissed her cheek before running out the doors. Shaking her head Rowan looked at me and muttered, “That boy.” Those two words summed up Jude perfectly.  With a quick wave I mumbled goodbye to Rowan. Jude waited outside on the steps for me. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans and he looked out towards the parking lot. The sun created a golden halo around him. If I was honest with myself, he took my breath away. I think maybe he always had. Even before Graham died, I’d always been one to deny my feelings. I bottled them up and stored them away carefully in neat little drawers, never to be peeked at again. I always did whatever it took not to get hurt. Even if it meant holding myself back.   I didn’t bother suggesting that we take separate cars. I knew Jude would veto that idea immediately. Once in his old blue truck, he turned the heat on and glanced at me before backing out. “Do I get to ask you a question today?” “You just did.” “Ha. Ha. Ha.” He chanted. “You’re so clever, Tater Tot.” “I detect sarcasm in your tone.” I did my best to keep from smiling. I failed.  “You do indeed. But I do actually think you’re the smartest person I know.” His tone was serious. “Thank you,” I told him, a bit taken aback. “You’re also the prettiest.” I held up a hand. “Quit while you’re ahead, Brooks.” He chuckled, scratching his lightly stubbled jaw. “Okay, okay. But you never actually answered my question.” “You can ask me whatever you want,” I shrugged. “I don’t care.” “Hmm,” he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, driving into the old part of town. “Why do you want to be a journalist?” “Because I want to write about things that matter,” I replied immediately, without a second of thought. “If I can make a difference with something I wrote…well, that would be the best feeling in the world.” A small smile touched my lips. “You know, I think you’re the first person to ask me that.” “I think that’s a pretty amazing answer,” he whispered, his eyes a dark stormy brown when he looked at me out of the corner of his eye. I racked my brain for a question to ask him. I finally settled on, “When can I go back to the farm?” He glanced at me, adjusting his hold on the steering wheel. I expected him to laugh or say something mocking, but he did neither. Jude Brooks was full of surprises.

“Whenever you want, pretty girl.” He smiled over at me—a genuine smile too, not one of the cocky ones he always seemed to wear. “I’m surprised you like it there.” “I love it,” I whispered. “It feels like home,” I whispered under my breath, but of course he heard. “It is home.”

I STARED OPEN-MOUTHED at all the ice cream flavors before me. This was the equivalent of heaven to sugar lovers like myself. “I can’t believe you’ve never been here before.” Jude shook his head incredulously. “That’s a real shame.” “I’m here now.” I scanned the selections for the tenth time.  “With me,” he added unnecessarily. “I like having you with me.” I ignored his comment, before I either said something rude or overly gooey and affectionate, because dammit I was really starting to like the guy and I mean like, like him, and I’d really hate to get myself in trouble. The girl working behind the counter tapped her fingers impatiently. “Have you decided yet?” Rude, much? Didn’t she know choosing ice cream flavors was a monumental decision, not to be taken so lightly? I didn’t say any of that, though. Instead I answered, “A scoop of the fresh strawberry and banana.” “In a cone or a cup?” She droned, clearly bored with her job as she picked at invisible dirt under her nails. “A cup,” I replied. She grabbed a scoop and got my ice cream. Before she could hand it over I clapped my hands. “Ooh, ooh! I want rainbow sprinkles too!” Jude chortled beside me. When I glared at him, he asked, “What are you, five?” I stuck my tongue out at him as she handed me the cup.  Jude ordered three scoops of chocolate on a cone. When the girl finished and handed it to him, my eyes threatened to bug out of my head. The thing was massive. Like, as long as my arm, and he was going to eat it? Looking at his light gray shirt and tan colored pants I really hoped he didn’t let it drip on his clothes. That would be unpleasant. And then, knowing Jude, he’d probably try to give me a striptease as he removed the soiled clothes. Okay, now I was picturing him getting naked and I liked that image a little too much…or a lot too much. Crap. I was in deep.  Looking over at Jude as he paid the bill, I realized that there was no reason for us to continue with this silly ‘bet.’ He’d already won. I wasn’t telling him that yet, though. I needed to drag this out for as long as I could. If he found out I had feelings for him…it wouldn’t be good. I didn’t see what was so different about me that he’d change his womanizing ways, and I didn’t want to deal with the pain of heartbreak.  “What are you thinking about so deeply?” Jude asked, with a light hand on my waist as he guided me to the table. He licked at the rapidly melting cone as he slid into the chair across from me. “Nothing.” I replied hastily. “That look did not mean ‘nothing.’” He eyed me, giving me a look that said I was stupid if I thought I could pull something over on him. I’d always been good about hiding my feelings and keeping things bottled up inside, but Jude not only saw right through me, but he also tended to get me to spill my guts. I wasn’t going to let that happen this time, though. “I was staring off into space,” I shrugged easily, lifting a spoonful of ice cream to my mouth. “Oh my God,” I moaned embarrassingly loud. “That’s the best ice cream I’ve ever had.” Sweet baby Jesus, I was pretty sure I could live off this stuff. This was more than ice cream…it was like a treasure chest of buried gold—rare and amazing. Jude cleared his throat and wiggled in his seat. “What?” I asked, taking another bite. “You really shouldn’t make noises like that in public,” he chuckled. I glanced around and out of the handful of people in the shop they all stared. Fantastic. My cheeks heated with color and I looked down at my ice cream. “Sorry. It tasted good.” “Don’t apologize.” He grinned and I knew something naughty was about to come out of his lips. “I quite enjoyed that…although, I’d enjoy it even more if we were in my bed. And naked. And—”

“Shut up!” I groaned, shaking my head so that my long blonde hair shielded my face. I wasn’t one to easily embarrass, but Jude? Yeah, he embarrassed me all the time. It was like some special talent he had.  Suddenly, his warm fingers were on my chin, guiding my head up. “Don’t get shy on me now, Tate,” he rubbed his large thumb in soothing circles over the apple of my cheek. “Where’s that feisty girl who kicks me and punches me when I do stupid shit?” “Kissing me wasn’t stupid.” My lips thinned into a hard line as I realized the words that had tumbled from my mouth. He let his hand drop and sat back, taking a lick of the dripping chocolate ice cream. “I knew you liked it, and you liked it even more when I kissed you in my truck.” I didn’t have a rebuttal, because he was right. I had enjoyed it, enough so that I wouldn’t mind it happening again. But I kept that tidbit of information a secret. The longer Jude stayed oblivious to my growing feelings, the better. Actually, it wasn’t even that. The longer I could pretend my feelings didn’t exist, the better.  “For the record,” he continued, licking ice cream off his upper lip, “I like kissing you too. A lot.”  I was convinced that Jude liked to say things to make me uncomfortable. It was like he got some kind of pleasure from watching me squirm. As if he sensed that he’d made me uncomfortable, Jude cracked a smile. “Hey, look at us enjoying ice cream and no one’s gotten covered in it yet.” I didn’t want to, but I laughed. And laughed some more until my sides hurt. I couldn’t remember when I’d laughed that hard. Probably before Graham died. I couldn’t believe it was the guy I blamed for my brother’s death that made me so undeniably…happy. It wasn’t fair, but life rarely is.

ON SUNDAY MORNING I awoke to someone banging pots and pans in the kitchen. I jolted out of bed, stumbling down the steps as I wiped sleep from my eyes. Who the hell was in the kitchen? My mom never got out of bed before twelve in the afternoon, unless I made her, and when I’d went to bed at one in the morning my dad still hadn’t come home.  But if there was an intruder in the house, why the hell were they going for the pots and pans? I was pretty sure they weren’t worth much. I skidded to a halt in front of the archway leading to the kitchen. My socks spun me around on the slick floor and I grabbed the doorframe for support so I didn’t fall on my butt. No one wanted a bruise on their ass.  “Dad?” I gasped at the form huddled over the stove making breakfast. I rubbed my eyes, then blinked them rapidly when the image in front of me didn’t change. Holy shitake mushrooms. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My dad hadn’t cooked any sort of meal in this kitchen since before Graham died. Man, there was so much in my life that existed in Before Graham Died and After Graham Died. It was sort of pathetic. “Dad?” I took a hesitant step into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” “Making breakfast, Tatie. You want chocolate chip pancakes, right?” Tears welled in my eyes at the sound of my nickname. I hadn’t heard it in so long, and my God it felt so good to hear, but strange at the same time. I couldn’t figure out what he thought was going to happen by making breakfast. He’d stopped being my dad a long time ago and I wasn’t sure the damage could be undone.  “Um, sure,” I took a seat at one of the barstools and placed my hands flat on the cool granite countertop. “Dad? I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what do you expect to accomplish with this?” He set the mixing bowl aside and put his hands on his hips. He let out a loud sigh and then ruffled his hair. It was getting a bit too long, like he’d forgotten to get it cut in a while. “I’m just making breakfast.” I wasn’t trying to start an argument with him, but I couldn’t sit back and not say anything about this. “Dad, you haven’t made breakfast in a long time. Hell, you haven’t even been sleeping at home. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me being curious.” “God, Tatum!” He yelled, slamming his hand against the mixing bowl. It went flying through the air and batter splattered all over the kitchen. I was startled. Stunned. Unable to move. To even breathe. “Why do you always have to question everything?” His chest heaved up and down like he’d run a marathon. There was so much I wanted to say, but I was silent.  More than that, I was scared. I pushed away from the counter, went up the steps, and closed my bedroom door. I leaned my head

against its surface and breathed deeply out through my mouth. I wanted to pretend that didn’t happen. But I couldn’t, because when I went downstairs later the mess was still there and a chill lingered in the air. I was starting to realize that the parents I ‘remembered’ might have been figments of my own imagination.

I SAT DOWN AT the table, holding the warm cup of coffee between my hands. Eyeing all the magazines covering the surface of the table, I asked Rowan, “Do you really need all of this to plan a wedding?” “Ugh!” She groaned, pulling her long hair away from her face and securing it in a high bun. “I hate this! I’m about to tell Trent to forget all this wedding crap and just go to Vegas.” I laughed, removing the plastic lid from my coffee and blowing the steaming surface. “Isn’t it the guy that’s supposed to hate all this big wedding crap, while the girl oohs and ahhs over everything?” “I never realized how much thought and planning went into a wedding. This is hard. Trent’s mom and grandma have helped a lot, and his mom offered to higher a wedding planner. But I refused. I didn’t want to lose control.” Looking at the mess on the table and her overall frazzled appearance, I said, “Maybe losing control wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” “No,” she stated flatly. Rowan Sinclair—soon to be Rowan Wentworth—was the most stubborn person I knew…besides myself of course. “What do you think of this color for bridesmaids dresses?” She pointed to a pale blue color. “It’s pretty.” “You hate it,” she threw the magazine to the side. “No,” I picked it back up and flipped to the page she’d shown me, “I said it was pretty. Since when did that mean I hated something?” “It was your tone.” I rolled my eyes. Sometimes Row could be the most impossible person to deal with. “I love the blue,” I replied. Batting my eyelashes, I leaned across the table towards her. “It’ll make my eyes pop and the men won’t be able to resist me.” “Men? Or Jude?” She smiled wryly.  “There’s nothing going on with us,” I replied, putting the lid back on my cup of coffee and taking a sip. It was the truth. Well, maybe a half-truth. There was something between us, but there were no labels to describe our relationship. “So,” I swallowed the hot liquid, “are you going with the blue?” “Yeah,” she sighed, marking the page. “It’ll be pretty on you and Olivia.” Olivia was Rowan’s other bridesmaid and she happened to be Trent’s sister-in-law. I’d only met her a handful of times. She was sweet and really pretty. I could tell she and Trace, her husband, were crazy about each other. It made me a little envious. I wanted that kind of love…I just didn’t want the pain, suffering, and heartache that could come from it. Let’s face it, I was going to die alone surrounded by cats. “I can’t wait to leave for spring break and have an actual, you know, break,” she propped her head up on her hand. “I still hate the thought of leaving the kids, but I need this.” Judging from the dark circles under her eyes, I’d say she definitely needed this. With school winding down and the impending approach of graduation every senior on campus was stressed out. I needed this break just as much. This coming week couldn’t be over fast enough. Taking one of the magazines I flipped through it until I found the sluttiest wedding gown imaginable. Rowan was too stressed and I wanted to make her laugh. “There you go,” I slid it across to her, tapping my finger on the glossy page, “it’s perfect.” She snorted when she saw what I’d picked. “While I’m sure Trent would love it, I’m not sure I want every guest to practically see my goods.” “In all seriousness,” I said, “what do you want for a wedding dress?” She shrugged her slender shoulders. “I’m not sure. I know that’s a sucky answer but it’s the honest one. I was thinking maybe something more old fashioned.”

Looking at Rowan, with her long light brown hair pulled back, her fine features and sculpted cheekbones I was pretty sure she could wear anything she wanted and look gorgeous in it. “If that’s what you want, you should go for it.” “I really need to try on dresses,” she bit her lip. “Do you want to come with me?” “Of course,” I replied immediately. “When?” “Now.” “Now?” I sat up straighter, taking a large gulp of coffee. “Why now?” “There’s a shop on the next block. I might not try on anything, but I’d like to look. Get an idea, you know?” She gave me an uncertain look and bit her lip nervously.  I stood and slung my purse on my shoulder. “Let’s go.” “Are you sure?” She appeared hesitant, like she thought she’d made me mad. Rowan had nothing to do with my current pissed off state. That was all thanks to the man I occasionally called dad when he bothered to come home.  “Absolutely,” I told her, walking away to toss my now empty coffee cup in the trash. As if she was afraid I’d change my mind she hurried after me.  It was a warmer day and I reveled in the feel of the sun on my skin. I’d always loved the outdoors and being stuck inside all winter had really taken a toll on me. We stepped into the shop and it looked like tulle had exploded in there. I batted my way through, hoping I didn’t get scolded for touching the dresses.  A woman came out of the backroom, smiling warmly. “Hello, ladies, what can I help you with today?” She asked, clasping her hands together in front of her black pencil skirt. Her dark hair was perfectly coifed back. I’d never be able to get my hair slicked back that tight unless I used superglue. I tended to let my hair do its own thing. “She’s looking for a wedding dress,” I told the saleslady when Rowan didn’t speak up. I looked over my shoulder to see her standing there, her face as white as the dresses. I guessed it was hitting her that this was real.  The lady began asking Rowan a thousand and one questions that made my head hurt. Another saleslady came to help me with bridesmaids dresses. She pulled a few for Rowan to look over that could be ordered in the color she’d decided on. I sat in an uncomfortable white chair, waiting for Rowan to come out of the dressing room. The space was decorated in white and pale pink. The furniture was a bit too frilly for my taste. In fact, I found the whole space to be very prissy. I was tempted to throw some gum wrappers I had wadded up in my purse on the ground, just to mess it up a bit.  When Rowan stepped out of the dressing room and onto the platform, my mouth hung open. She twirled around, letting me see the dress from all angles. It was a mermaid style lace gown with a sweetheart neckline, capped sleeves, and an opening in the back. It was absolutely stunning on her.  “Rowan, I think this is your dress,” I breathed in awe, itching to reach out and touch the fabric. “It’s gorgeous.” “You think so? I mean, it’s the first one I tried on, so…” “No, don’t second guess it. Sometimes you get things right on the first try, and this…this is your dress. It’s like it was made for you.” I almost felt jealous as she smiled at her reflection. My best friend was marrying her dream guy, having her dream wedding, and going to live happily ever after. I didn’t see a future for myself past graduation and that was really scary. “You’re right,” Rowan agreed. “This is my dress.” The saleslady helped her off the platform and into the other room. The lady that had helped me find the bridesmaid dresses ushered me into a room and helped me changed into one of the dresses.  I’d already told her it was an outdoor wedding, so all of the dresses she’d pulled were on the more casual side. The first one she put me in was really shiny and itchy. I prayed Rowan hated it. If I had to wear this thing through her whole wedding I’d end up having a special burning of the hideous dress ceremony afterwards.  I was already standing on the platform when Rowan came out of the dressing room from changing back into her clothes. Her face screwed up with complete and utter distaste. “That’s awful.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad we agree.” After two more, I was about to give up. But then the saleslady put me in a floor length flowy dress. It was strapless but had a sweetheart neckline to match the one on Row’s. The one I wore was in a

peachy color. It draped beautifully on my body and I wasn’t worried about my boobs popping out, so that was a plus. Rowan gasped when she saw me. “It’s beautiful!” She clapped her hands. “Perfect! The color too!” “What about the blue?” I asked, turning around so she could see the back.  “Forget blue, this is so much better and more elegant.”  Well, for someone that had been so stressed earlier she’d made these decisions relatively easy. She ordered the dresses, as well as one for Olivia, and we left. Since we hadn’t gotten anything to eat when we met for coffee, we decided to get lunch. It was nice to spend some time with her. We hadn’t had much girl time in months. Life had a tendency to get in the way.

IT WAS LATE WHEN Jude and I pulled up to the old farmhouse after he’d finished volunteering. Tomorrow I was leaving for spring break with Trent and Row, so this was my last chance to see his grandpa for a good week or more.  The last week I’d been able to steer clear of Jude’s advances and there’d been no more kissing, but my God did I want to. I hated myself for liking him, and I hated him even more for causing me to have such conflicting feelings. I didn’t know how much longer my defenses would last against him. I was hoping my week away would help me to fortify my walls to ensure that he didn’t break through. “Pap?” Jude called out as we walked inside. “Pap?” He called again when there was no answer. He looked at me worriedly and my stomach dropped. Oh no, he couldn’t have… “Pap!” Jude ran up the steps, taking them two at a time. “He’s not here!” He called down a moment later. I frantically started to search the bottom level but Jerry wasn’t there either. This was bad. I was terrified he was having one of his episodes and had wandered off. On a property this large the chances of finding him in the dark…yeah, it didn’t look good.  In the sunroom, I caught sight of him out the window. I let out a sigh of relief. “Found him!” I called out to Jude. I wasn’t sure where he had gone to look. “He’s outside!” Not bothering to wait for him I darted outside, running towards Jerry. He just stood there in the middle of knee high grass looking up at the stars. “Hello, Tatum,” he said, not even looking at me. “Jerry,” I tugged on his arm, “it’s cold out, you should come inside.” “I wonder if she’s up there,” he murmured, like I wasn’t even there. “I wonder if each star is someone that was on this earth once—a person that shined brighter than others. My Mae,” he clucked his tongue, laughing softly, “she shined brighter than anyone I’ve ever known.” I leaned my head on his shoulder and my racing heart calmed. “I bet she’s right there then,” I pointed at the brightest star I could see. It sparkled in the moonlight. “Look at that, she’s winking at you.” He reached up and blindly patted my cheek. “Jude didn’t tell me you were coming.” “I begged him,” I grinned up at the sky. “He doesn’t want you around me,” Jerry stated, “he’s afraid I’ll tell you something embarrassing.” “Like what?” I laughed. “That boy cares more for you than he’d like to admit,” he told me. “That’s not true. He doesn’t even know me.” Although, that wasn’t really true. While we’d never been friends, we had grown up in the same town all our lives, and with this little question game we had going on we knew each other pretty dang well now.  “How do you ever really know someone?” Jerry countered. “People are always changing. Sometimes, it’s about how you feel them.”

“Feel them?” I questioned, my brows drawing together. He nodded, placing a hand on his heart. “It what you feel in here, and recognize in the other person, that matters. There’s good and bad in everyone. No one’s perfect, Tatum. Definitely not my grandson, but he has a big heart to offer you.” I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want Jude’s heart, but that would be rude and untrue, because a part of me yearned strongly for the brown-eyed man I was desperate to hate. But the thing about hate is, eventually it disappears and I think I’d just about used all mine up. Jerry and I stood looking up at the stars for a few minutes longer. When we turned to go back inside, Jude was a few feet behind us watching us curiously.  “Pap, why were you out here by yourself? That’s not safe,” Jude frowned, looking his grandpa over carefully to make sure he was unharmed. “I’m fine, boy,” Jerry waved a hand dismissively as he headed for the back door. “You worry too much.” “Of course I worry,” Jude sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Have you eaten dinner?” “Yes, I didn’t know you two were coming,” Jerry said, holding the door open for us to follow. “It’s a nice surprise. There are leftovers in the refrigerator if you’re hungry.” My stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Besides a Special K bar after my last class I hadn’t eaten anything in hours. Jude chuckled, having heard the noise. Great. Jerry headed to the den and a moment later we heard the sounds of the TV.  Jude opened the fridge and pulled out a plastic container. Popping the lid off, he inhaled the scent, and breathed happily, “Mmm, meatloaf. Pap makes the best meatloaf.” “I’m pretty sure your Pap makes the best everything,” I commented as he found plates and cut a square out for each of us. “Are you as talented in the kitchen as he is?” “No.” “He’s lying!” Jerry called from the other room, eavesdropping on our conversation. I quirked a brow at Jude. “Is that true?” He shrugged. “I can cook, just not this good.” “Lies!” Came Jerry’s voice again. I couldn’t help laughing. The way Jude and his grandpa behaved around each other, well…it was heartwarming. They liked to pick on each other, but there was a bond there that was indestructible. It was obvious that his grandpa was his father figure, and I wondered if his grandma had been more like his mom than his own. I was dying to know why Jude didn’t have much to do with his parents, but that was none of my business so I was keeping my mouth shut…for now. Jude set the warmed plates of food on the table and I got us cups of ice water. It felt weird to be sitting at a table just the two of us enjoying a meal. It was so simple, so easy. I never thought I’d use either of those words to describe Jude and I. Wow, we’d come a long way in a few short weeks in the sense that I didn’t contemplate all the ways I could kill him with my bare hands every time I was in a room with him. I studied his strong chin and brow, his full lips that had felt like heaven against mine, and something I’d never felt before stirred inside me.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”  I shook my head forcefully, bowing my head so my hair hid my face and concealed the embarrassment staining my cheeks. “I didn’t know I was,” I muttered. Suddenly his fingers smoothed my hair back and my chin was forced up so I had to look at him. His eyes were such a warm brown, like melted chocolate. “You can look all you want, pretty girl. I don’t mind.” Of course he didn’t, but I did. Jude Brooks was the last person I should have these…these…fluttery  feelings about. It wasn’t okay with me. But the heart wants what it wants, and mine very clearly yearned for Jude. I didn’t understand how I could go from hating someone with every fiber of my being to wanting them. Actually, it was more than a simple want. I craved him. But I was determined to deny my feelings until either they went away, or he gave up on waiting for me, because he would give up on me eventually…everyone did. “Hey,” he said, his voice deepening with seriousness. “What’s wrong?” “I’m fine,” I assured him.  “That look on your face doesn’t seem fine to me,” he commented, tilting his head slightly as he studied me. 

I bit my lip, letting out a heavy sigh. “I think I’m just really tired.” He nodded his head, like that was answer enough. We finished eating in silence, cleaned the dishes, and joined Jerry in the living room to watch some TV before we left for the evening.  When we said our goodbyes, Jerry called me Julia and Jude had become Andrew. It broke my heart, seeing Jerry regress into his mind and into a time that was no more. I knew it had to be even more painful for Jude.  Back on campus, Jude parked his truck in the empty spot beside my old red Mazda. I didn’t say anything as I got out and headed to my car. I jumped in surprise when I heard the driver’s side door of the truck close. Jude had never gotten out of his truck before when he dropped me off. He came around to where I stood by my car, leaning so close to me that you couldn’t fit a sheet of paper between us.  My breath faltered as he stared into my eyes. His look was intense, searing me straight to my core.  A few weeks ago I would’ve pushed him away and cussed him out for standing this close. I did neither of those things. My heart raced dangerously fast as he lowered his head. I thought for sure he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. I was learning that Jude was full of surprises.  He brushed my hair back over my shoulder and nuzzled my neck. The light stubble on his cheeks and chin grazed my skin, causing me to shiver. “I just want to see you happy,” he breathed against my skin. Then his lips were on my cheek, oh so close to my mouth, but he pulled away from me before it went any further. He turned hastily and strode to his truck. I watched him get in and pull out of the parking lot while I was left standing there, panting like I’d run a marathon, and wondering what the hell had just happened.

“OH, HELL TO THE no!” I seethed, standing on my front porch at six in the morning with two suitcases by my side. “No one told me he was coming!” I pointed an accusing finger at Jude.  Rowan rolled her eyes as Trent grabbed one of the suitcases and Jude got the other. “I knew you wouldn’t come if I told you Jude was coming too.” “You’re right,” I agreed. “This feels like a setup,” I accused her. Rowan, Trent, Jude and me…yeah, that was a bit too cozy for my liking. I’d been the third wheel when I thought it was only the three of us, but I’d never had a problem doing things on my own before. But now…I was going to be stuck with Jude. I’d been hoping to use this time to get over my…crush—I cringed at the word—on him. Stuck in a house 24/7 with him was going to prove futile to my plan. I was so screwed. Unless I didn’t go. “I think I’m going to stay home.” “Tatum, don’t make me get Trent to drag you into this car,” she warned, “you know I will.”  Judging from her serious tone and the look in her eyes, I believed her, and I knew Trent would do whatever she told him.  “Fine, I’ll go, but I won’t enjoy a minute of this vacation,” I spat venomously as I passed her on my way to the car. Staring up at Jude, I warned, “Don’t try anything.” He chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll try, but no promises.” Great. Jude opened one of the back passenger doors and waved a hand for me to get inside. With a bunch of grumbling, I finally did. I heard him laugh as the door closed and jogged around to the other side, sitting so close to me that our knees grazed. The car we were in was some kind of fancy SUV that I knew didn’t belong to Trent or Row. I figured Trent had borrowed it from his mom, since neither of their cars were made for long distance traveling. I hated that our spring break was so early, in April, so the weather was always cool. I really hoped it would be much warmer at the beach, but on the east coast you never knew.  Jude tapped his fingers along his jean-clad thigh to the beat of the song playing on the radio. I let out a sigh and turned to look out the window.  It was going to be a long drive.

“THIS IS YOUR BEACH house,” I gasped when we pulled up to the gate blocking the entrance. It wasn’t huge, but it certainly wasn’t small either. I’d been picturing a cottage. This looked like something you’d see in the movies. The siding was navy blue, with white shutters, a deck, and stairs

leading up to the dark wood door. The gate swung open and Trent drove through, pushing a button to open the garage door—which he didn’t park in because there were two dune buggies and two jet skis.  “Yeaaaah!” Jude clapped his hands, “This is going to be awesome!” We eased from the car and got our luggage from the trunk.  Jude took one of my suitcases and started wheeling it away before I could protest. I got the other, following behind him.  Trent passed us, pulling a key out of his pocket to unlock the door in the garage that led into the house. I gasped again when I saw the interior. Everything was done in pale yellows and whites, with pops of blue here and there. It didn’t sound like it would work together, but it did.  “Welcome home,” Trent grinned, tossing his keys on the marble countertop in the kitchen. Everything was so sparkly, shiny, and new.  “This is beautiful,” I told him, looking around in awe. Before Graham’s passing, we’d vacationed twice a year but we’d never stayed anywhere this nice. “Come on guys, I’ll show you your room.” Trent took my suitcase from my hand, starting up the steps. “Wait,” I shook my head, stunned, “I notice you said room not rooms.” “There’s two beds,” he winked, jogging up with my suitcase like it weighed nothing. “Rowan!” I screamed at the top of my lungs when she came into the room. “I hate you!” I stomped up the steps, Jude following behind as he laughed hysterically. I was pissed. Actually, I was beyond pissed. I was whatever came after pissed…livid maybe? I was too mad to even think of the right word.  Trent opened a door and motioned me inside.  Sure enough, there were two queen-sized beds, so at least there was that. But it didn’t make up for the fact that I was sharing a room with Jude. I couldn’t escape him.  “Please, tell me you’re messing with me?” I begged Trent. He shook his head. “Sorry, Tate. This is all there is right now. There’s another bedroom, but it’s used as an office. Trace and I shared this room growing up.” I let out a heavy sigh. This was okay. I was okay. I was strong, I could make it through this week. I nodded my head and Trent left with an apologetic shake of his head. I sat on the bed closest to the window, claiming it as my own. I drew my knees up and rested my head on top.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jude remove his beanie and toss it on the other bed. He ruffled his brown hair and turned to look at me. I couldn’t read his expression to know whether he was happy about our sleeping arrangements or not.  “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he told me. While that would certainly make me feel better, I didn’t want Jude to be uncomfortable for the whole vacation. After all, this was his break too, and I wasn’t that mean of a person.  “No,” I shook my head, and his eyes widened in surprise, “that would be silly.” He looked like he was going to argue, but the sight of the comfy bed deterred him. He jumped on the one beside me and bounced up and down a few times before settling. “Hey, roomie,” he grinned. “I don’t sleep with any clothes on, in case you were wondering,” he waggled his brows. And now I regretted my decision not to let him sleep on the couch. This was going to be the longest week of my life. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave my boxers on to shield your sensitive eyes,” he continued, his lips turned up in a wry smile.  “You better,” I groaned, rolling onto my back and crooking my arm over my eyes.  I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, worried over my decision to leave my mom alone for a week, and hadn’t slept in the car. So I was exhausted.  “Tired?” Jude asked, no doubt catching my eyes threatening to drift closed.  “Mhmm,” I hummed, counting sheep—it was something I’d always done since I was a child before I went to sleep. “Me too,” he yawned.

WE GOT UP AN hour later and ate a late lunch. Everyone wanted to head to the beach, and I cringed at the thought of Jude checking me out in my bikini.  I changed in the bathroom connected to the room we shared. I knew he was just on the other side of the door changing too and for some reason that thought made my heart speed up.  I adjusted the straps of my white bikini with yellow daisies on it to make sure nothing came popping out. The last thing I wanted was to give Jude or any of the other beachgoers a show.  Thankfully, I’d been smart enough to bring a pullover with me so I wouldn’t be completely exposed. Only, I’d left it in the other room…where Jude was…which meant he’d watch me walk out of here all awkward-like as I tried to hide my body from him. It wasn’t that I was shy or had body image issues, I just didn’t like being stared at.  To stall for time, I braided my hair to the side, letting it hang down. I added a bit of waterproof mascara to my lashes and pale pink gloss to my lips.  I sighed, knowing I couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever.  I knocked on the door before I opened it. I didn’t want to get an eyeful. “I’m decent,” Jude chuckled. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled, reclining on the bed. His eyes instantly widened, zeroing in on my chest and then to the soft swell of my hips. I held my head high and willed my cheeks not to flush.  “Yeah, well, I’m a girl. With as many as you’ve been with you should know it takes us a while to get ready,” I retorted. “Not that long,” he winked, tossing his beanie up and then catching it. “Oh, ew!” I wrinkled my nose once I got his meaning.  I opened my suitcase and searched through it for the heather gray pullover I wanted. It was more like a sweatshirt, but I thought I would need it.  When I turned around from putting on the sweatshirt, it was obvious Jude had been looking at my butt. I narrowed my eyes and he chuckled in response. He wasn’t at all ashamed at having been caught.  “You ready?” He asked. “Hold on,” I held up a finger as I gathered more stuff in my beach bag. I pulled a pair of shorts out of my suitcase and put those on as well. They didn’t cover that much skin, but they did cover more than the bikini bottoms and I didn’t like the way Jude was looking at my long legs…like he wanted to lick them or something. Sliding sunglasses on top of my head, I slung my bag over my shoulder and said, “Now I’m ready.” Jude slid lithely off the bed and stretched his arms above his head. He tapped the top of the doorway on our way out. Trent and Row were already waiting downstairs, by the backdoor. Trent had his arms wrapped around her from behind, and whispered something in her ear, which made her giggle. She looked up, her cheeks flushed with warmth and smiled when she saw us. “Y’all ready?” Trent asked, then nibbled on her earlobe. She giggled and pulled away. Rowan might’ve been madly in love with Trent, but she still struggled with public displays of affection. I had to admit that she was much better now than she had been a year ago.  We nodded and Trent opened the door.  I don’t know how it had escaped my notice, maybe because I’d been too busy gawking at everything else, but the beach was literally right outside. Yeah, it was a ‘beach house’ but I’d still thought we’d have to walk a few blocks to get there. Oh, no. It was right there. I ran outside like a crazy person, kicking off my flip-flops and twirling in the sand. My bag dropped somewhere behind me but I didn’t care. I was on the beach!  I heard them laughing at my display.   I was letting loose and I was determined to have fun on this trip, even if I had a roommate. I wasn’t paying attention and let out a squeal when my feet were swept out from under me. At first I thought I was falling, but then my stomach hit against a muscular shoulder. Jude’s familiar scent swam around me as he ran towards the ocean. “Jude!” I screamed, laughing despite myself. “Put me down! It’s going to be freezing and I have my clothes on!” My protests didn’t matter, we both went in the water. A wave swelled around us, knocking him off his feet. We went under and the icy water shocked me. I came up sputtering, wiping my eyes. I slapped at his

hard chest, which was on full display in his drenched white shirt. Getting a good look at him, I swallowed thickly. I itched to reach out and touch his abs, but I clenched my hands together so I could do no such thing. We stood staring at each other, drenched in water, panting—and it wasn’t from lack of oxygen. The air was thick with sexual tension. It was like a palpable thing between us, wrapping around us with snaky tendrils drawing us closer. I don’t know who moved first, and it didn’t matter. Suddenly his arms were wrapped around me, one holding my body and the other on the nape of my neck. Our lips collided together and I wanted to sigh in relief. I hated him. I wanted him. I cursed him. I craved him. We were like fire and water—two opposites that should never come together, but somehow when we collided it was perfect. His mouth moved over mine with the skill of an artists’ hand on a canvas. I breathed him in, savoring this moment. With each gentle press of his lips against mine my resolve to avoid him crumbled. There was no staying away from Jude. I could run, hide, and deny my feelings for as long as I wanted, but they weren’t going anywhere. I needed to get Jude out of my system. At least that’s what I told myself as I kissed him deeply, fisting his wet shirt in my hands. I couldn’t hate him anymore, not after seeing the real, genuine Jude. The fact of the matter was I let go of my hatred when I’d seen what a remarkable person he was and I couldn’t stay away. I’d always been a fighter, and I’d been fighting my thoughts and feelings for weeks now. There was a part of me that still fought hard to hate him, to blame him, because that was easy, but it wasn’t working anymore. I saw now that no one was to blame. Not really anyway. But humans long to find fault in someone else. It’s so much easier to hold onto pain, to despise someone, than it is to let go and choose to be happy. I was letting go of my pain, letting it fly away like a balloon I’d once released from my grasp as a child. I’d watched it fly higher and higher, crying at first at the loss, but then marveling at its beauty as it spun through the air, travelling to lands unknown. The balloon was my pain leaving, but it also symbolized me. Free. Floating. Discovering a life I’d never bothered to imagine. One with love and happiness.  “Don’t break my heart,” I breathed when he pulled away, nipping my lower lip. He kissed the edge of my nose. “Never,” he vowed. 

JUDE AND I ENDED up back on the beach, lying on towels side by side. I’d been surprised by the words that left my mouth after our kiss, but even more shocked by his reply. Rowan had watched us emerge from the ocean with a knowing smirk before moving a ways down the beach with Trent. It was still only Jude and I in this spot. From the lack of activity on the beach, I guessed it was private and reserved only for the people who lived here.  Jude reached over, lightly guiding his finger down my nose. “Still cold?” I shivered. “What do you think?” He chuckled, ducking his head. “I didn’t expect it to be that cold, I’m sorry.” Closing my eyes, I let the sun’s rays warm me. “It’s okay.” In fact, what had transpired between us once we were in the water made it more than okay. Just this morning I’d been livid to find out Jude was coming with us, then mad we had to share a room, but now that I’d given into the feelings I’d been denying I felt…happy.  Happiness had been absent from my emotions for a long time. On the surface, I wore a smile and never showed the struggles I dealt with on the inside. The fact of the matter was, I’d been hurt. I was damaged goods, and I hadn’t believed I was the kind of girl worthy of love—of being saved. But I was beginning to see that everyone is worth saving. It was strangely appropriate that the man I’d let break me, was the one to put me back together.  I didn’t know what tomorrow, or next week, or even the following month might hold for us, and I wasn’t going to let myself overthink it. I was going to live in the moment. Jude lay on his back, staring up at the clear blue sky. “Tatum?” “Yeah,” I replied when he didn’t continue immediately. “Can I hold your hand, or are you going to hit me for that?” I turned my head and laughed at his serious expression. “I think that would be alright, and I really am sorry about that. It was an automatic reaction.” “So…” He started, a slow grin appearing on his face. “Your first response to a guy kissing you, is to slap him? Interesting.” He was never going to let me live this down. I really hadn’t meant to hit him. He knew that, but he also enjoyed my pain. Douche. “Only one guy.” “I’m the only guy to ever kiss you?” He brightened. “No!” I immediately shut him down. “I’ve kissed other guys, but you’re the only one that I…you know…” “Slapped?” He supplied. “Should I be honored that you like to hit me?” He winked.  “You make me sound like I’m abusive,” I pouted, feeling ashamed of myself and my behavior. “Nah,” he propped his head up on his hand and stared down at me. “You’re just a tough girl.”

“Tough?” I wrinkled my nose. “That doesn’t sound very appealing.” “Oh, trust me,” his brown eyes sparkled, “it is. It’s hot as hell actually. But you want to know a secret, Tate?” I nodded and he lowered his head so his mouth was pressed against my ear. My body shuddered at the close proximity and the heavenly feel of his breath ghosting against my skin. “Even tough girls need saving.” “Is that what you’re going to do Jude?” I quirked my head and squinted from the sun shining in my eyes. “Are you going to save me?”  “No,” he shook his head, his dark hair brushing my forehead. “You’re going to save yourself.” He said the words with such surety that I couldn’t help but believe him. When I didn’t say anything he rolled onto his back and finally entwined our hands together. Peace flooded my body and I didn’t understand it. How could the man that had filled me with such torment not long ago, calm my body with a simple touch? It was mindboggling.  I rolled my head slightly to the side, studying his profile—the elegant slope of his nose and the slant of his lips. I couldn’t believe I was thinking this, and he’d probably kill me if I said it out loud, but he was beautiful—inside and out. It was a shame that I was just now noticing it. I think a lot of people never saw what a magnificent person he was. He hid his true self behind cocky smiles and flirtatious come-ons. “You’re staring at me.” “I’m not,” I hastily turned my head away. “I felt your eyes,” he continued. “You were totally staring. It’s okay, look all you want. I know I’m quite the feast for your eyes.” With my free hand I smacked his stomach. My God he had abs of steel. I think I hurt my hand more than I did any damage to him. Not that I was really trying to hurt him. Although, I thought he needed a nice blow to his ego. I squealed as he rolled on top of me and I found my arms pinned above me, pushed into the sand. His tongue slowly snaked out between his plump lips to moisten their surface. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. I was learning that Jude rarely did what I expected of him. In many ways he was a mystery.  His dark eyes grew serious as he stared down at me and I found myself squirming as his hips dug into mine. I felt my body responding to the position—muscles tightening, pulse racing, and an overwhelming ache building inside me. “Are you sure about this?” He breathed softly. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that I’d only ever seen when he was around his grandpa. “About us? Or am I going to wake up in the morning and find that you’re gone?” “You really think I’d run away?” I replied, wiggling my hips, which caused him to hiss sharply between his teeth.  “Honestly? It wouldn’t surprise me. You’re afraid of your own feelings,” he lowered his head, brushing his nose against my neck. My eyes closed and a pleased hum resounded in my throat. There was still a voice in my head telling me to push him away, but I was done listening to it. “It’s okay to be scared, Tate,” he nipped my earlobe, the heat of his body wrapping around mine like a blanket. “I’m scared too.” “You are?” I breathed, my voice so soft the wind nearly carried it away. I felt him nod, his hair tickling my neck. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, but you,” he confessed. “It’s always been you.” His behavior with other girls suggested otherwise, but I didn’t say any of that. While my problems had caused me to isolate myself, it was clear whatever haunted Jude caused him to seek comfort in the arms of another—a naked female, specifically. His words made me wonder if maybe he really did see something different in me.  Maybe a part of me hoped I was different. It wasn’t about taming the bad boy or any nonsense like that, but it was nice to feel…I don’t know…special. I’d never been the girl to stand out, not even during my brief stint as a cheerleader. I’d always been okay with blending in with the crowd. But the way Jude looked at me sometimes made me want to be anything but a wallflower. He awakened something inside me I’d never thought existed. I wasn’t quite sure what it was. I just knew he made me feel alive. “I haven’t scared you, have I?” He asked when I was quite for a while. His finger twisted in the long

locks of my long hair, which had fallen loose from the confines of the braid.  “A little,” I admitted. “Don’t be afraid.” His lips brushed my forehead and my lashes fluttered. “Let’s just explore this crazy thing between us for a while and see where it goes.” “You mean, until you get sick of me.” I stated. “Pretty girl,” his lips descended lower, closer to my mouth but mostly on my cheek. “I could never tire of you. If I was going to get bored with you, don’t you think it would’ve happened long before now?” He was right. Jude had been making advances towards me since we were in high school. Our college campus was large enough that I’d thought he’d gone away for school and hadn’t seen him on campus the first two years. It probably helped that we studied two completely different majors. In fact, I wouldn’t have encountered him again if he hadn’t become friends with Rowan. I’d been beyond livid when he’d shown up at the library one day where Row and I had been studying. From that moment on, he’d picked right up where he’d left off in high school with trying to get in my pants.  “That’s a good point,” I agreed, curling into his side. He was so warm and comforting and I almost never wanted to leave his arms.  I’d always been fiercely independent and it scared me to be falling so hard and fast for someone. Especially Jude.  “If I’d really only wanted to fuck you all this time I’m pretty sure you slapping me would’ve been a huuuuuge turn off,” he continued, laughing so his chest shook, causing my head to bobble up and down where it rested on his shoulder.  “My mom would shove soap into your mouth for that statement,” I dead-panned, refusing to laugh or acknowledge yet another mention of the ‘slapping incident’.  “Sounds like a kinky lady, must run in the family.” He rose above me, smirking. “Juuude!” I shrilled his name and reached up to lightly beat my fists against his chest in jest. He caught my hands before they could any damage.  I found my hands pinned above my head once more. “Do you want me to spank you, Tatum?” There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but his tone was almost stern. “Only if you want me to cut your balls off while you sleep,” I smiled sweetly. Something changed in his eyes and he opened his mouth to say something, but promptly shut it. He released my hands and stood up, offering me a hand. “What do you say we go for a walk?” A walk with Jude on the beach? It sounded grossly romantic, but I guess we were a couple now…wait, were we a couple? This was all so confusing.  He kicked off his shoes, letting his feet dig into the sand. I did the same and then took his outstretched hand. We started walking down the beach and everything about the moment felt strange to me. Jude hummed pleasantly under his breath, a small happy smile on his face. Every once in a while he’d look down at me and his smile would widen. Shouldn’t that have been me? Shouldn’t I have been the one looking foolishly…I shut down that thought. Love and Jude in the same sentence was not something that should ever be used. Regardless, I felt like I should’ve been the one beaming. Not that I wasn’t happy, but let’s face it. This was Jude. He could have any girl he wanted. Heck, he had, had every girl he wanted, but he was suddenly choosing me to have a relationship with? Me? The me who had hated him for the last seven years. It honestly made no sense, but I couldn’t help believing that the most confusing things can turn out to be the simplest things in the world. I hoped that’s what being with Jude would be like. Simple. Easy. Uncomplicated.  “You look like you’re worrying,” Jude spoke, his voice husky and deep like his throat was dry. “I’m not,” I said quickly. “Come on, Tater Tot. I know you better than that.” I stopped suddenly and he did too. He loomed upon me from his towering height. Even though I wasn’t short by most people’s standards Jude still made me feel small and dainty.  “Do you know me?” I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun. “Tell me Jude, do you really know me?” His jaw clenched painfully tight, and a muscle ticked. Something about my question had made him angry. “I know that you say your favorite color changes depending on the day and where you are, so right now I’m going to venture to guess that it’s blue,” he nodded his head towards the ocean. He was right. “I know that your eyes light up at the mention of my Pap. I know that you love that house more than you’d care to admit.” He thrust his fingers in his hair, getting heated. “I know things about you that you haven’t even told me.” I opened my mouth to protest, because what could be possibly know, but he plowed on. “I know that you want to ride one of the horses on the farm—I’ve seen the way your

eyes linger on them when they’re grazing. I know you loved your brother and wanted to blame me for every bad thing to happen to you, but you also know in your heart I had nothing to do with it.” His chest heaved as he struggled to get enough air. “I know from the far off look you get in your eyes sometimes, that there’s a lot you keep inside. I know you struggle to feel accepted, to feel like you belong. I know that you never talk about your mom and dad. I know you watch me when you think I’m not looking, but Tate,” he cupped my cheek, “I’m always looking at you.” I swallowed thickly and my body leaned into his touch. My heart raced and my palms dampened with sweat. I felt like a frightened, cornered animal. And then I did what I did best.  I ran away.

SAND KICKED OUT BEHIND me as I ran. My feet sunk down into it making it hard to run fast, but I tried. It wasn’t good enough. Jude caught up to me easily and we fell to the ground as he tackled—yeah, he full on tackled me to the ground like we were playing football. Sand got all over our clothes as we rolled around. There was nothing sexy or playful about the motion. “Let me go,” I protested, trying to wiggle away from his grasp.  “No,” his tone was stern. He was bigger and stronger than me, so it didn’t take much effort on his part to subdue me. “Look at me,” he growled when I turned my head away from him. I could feel moisture stinging my eyes and the last thing I wanted was for Jude to see me cry. Talk about mortifying. “Tatum, look at me.” His voice softened, pleading with me. I couldn’t stop my head from turning. “That’s my girl,” he smiled. My heart still raced in my chest, but its beats were slowing. “I told you I was afraid of you running away, and then you go and do it. Way to bruise a guy’s ego,” he teased, but there was an uneasiness in his eyes like he was still worried if he released me I’d flee. All fight was leaving my body. I hadn’t even been trying to get away from him. It was my feelings I was running from. They were a jumbled, twisted knot inside me. I couldn’t untangle them and even begin to sort the mess. I didn’t understand what he saw in me. I’d seen enough of his true colors to know he was an amazing man, but me? I had no clue who I was or what I wanted. I dwelled on the past too much and I didn’t talk about my feelings. I kept everything bottled inside me until I exploded—like when I threw the McFlurry at Jude. May that Oreo McFlurry Rest in Peace. I took a shuddering breath as he said, “Talk to me, Tate.” “I don’t know how to talk to you,” I breathed, my chest rising heavily with each breath. “I don’t know how to talk to anyone.”  His dark brows furrowed together. “You’re talking right now.” “Smart ass,” I muttered. “I’m not asking you to tell me every secret you’ve hidden away in that pretty head of yours,” he smiled, like he was trying to reassure me. “I’m just asking you not to run away when your feelings get to be too much.” “You sound like a girl,” I stated, glaring at him. He bellowed a laugh at that. “Well,” he grinned crookedly, “one of us has to be the level-headed, honest one in this relationship, and since you’re clearly not ready to share a lot of things with me, I guess I’m that person.” “There are things you’re not telling me,” I stated, because I knew it was true deep down in my gut. He bowed his head, strands of dark hair falling in his eyes. “That’s true, but at least I don’t run from what I feel.” I winced. “Touché.”

“If there’s anything Pap taught me, it was that being a man doesn’t mean burying your feelings. Yes, it means being a leader and protecting the ones you love,” he smoothed my hair off my forehead, “but it also means you embrace what you feel in your heart. He taught me not to hide my emotions, to accept them all.” “Your grandpa is a wise man.” “He is,” Jude agreed. “So, what do you say, are you ready to accept your feelings? To embrace this unknown rocky road ahead of us?” No. That wasn’t the word that left my mouth though. “Yes.” His smile widened. “No. More. Running.” He reinforced each word with a kiss to my forehead, the end of my nose, and finally a light kiss to my lips. He jumped up and pulled me up with him. “That walk was shaping up to be a bad idea, but I think we had a good talk.” He slung an arm over my shoulders. My heart skipped a beat. “I’m scared,” I admitted, needing to tell him. “I’m scared to death of what I feel for you, of how you affect me. I feel like I’m falling.” “Ah,” he breathed, “don’t you know, falling is the best part of flying.”

ROWAN CORNERED ME IN the bathroom before I could get it locked and jump in the shower. I knew it was only a matter of time before she sought me out. She found me sooner than I expected, and I’d been planning to use the time in the shower to figure out what to tell her. “What the hell happened today?” She whispered just in case someone was listening. She lowered the lid of the toilet seat and sat down.  I shrugged. “Tatum,” she said my name sternly, the same way she said her son’s when he was in trouble. “Tell me. I’m your best friend.” “I-I don’t know,” I shrugged, again. “We kissed and…” “And?” She prompted. “It was amazing.” Those darn butterflies erupted in my tummy again as I relived the kiss in the ocean. I was convinced no man could kiss like Jude. He was a master.  “I need more than that,” she waved her hand in a gesture for me to go on. “We laid on the beach, talked for a while. That was about it.” No way was I telling her I’d freaked and Jude had chased me down. Besides, I felt like everything we’d talked about should be kept between the two of us. “Are you guys dating now?”  She wasn’t going to leave this alone, but I hadn’t expected her to. I knew she’d wanted something to happen between the two of us for a while. Nothing would have ever happened between us if it wasn’t for my paper, and being forced to work with him. I was beginning to think Rowan had turned me down on purpose so that Jude would volunteer and we’d be forced to spend hours alone together. If that had been her plan, it had worked magnificently.  “I don’t know what we are.” I nibbled on my bottom lip nervously. We certainly weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, and we’d never been friends. “I don’t think there’s any label out there to describe us.” “Well, I knew that already,” she laughed, pulling her long hair over her shoulder. “You and Jude…that has unique written all over it. In a good way,” she assured me. She stood and patted my shoulder. “Well, I enjoyed our chat.”  Before I could reply, she opened the bathroom door and was gone. Almost immediately it opened again. Jude stuck his head in and narrowed his eyes. “Was I missing out on some smoking hot girl on girl action?” My mouth dropped open and my short fuse got the best of me. I bonked him on the forehead with the heel of my hand and his head disappeared. I slammed the door closed before he could finagle a way back inside. “You’re disgusting!” I called through the door. His cackling laugh was his only reply.

THAT EVENING TRENT DECIDED he wanted to have a bonfire. It seemed really silly to go through all the trouble if it was only the four of us, but everyone else thought it was a great idea. I had to admit once it was done it was really pretty. I liked watching the way the fire moved, like it was dancing.  As the four of us sat around the bonfire huddled under blankets—Trenton and Rowan under one, and Jude and I under another—I felt relaxed. None of my worries and stress from the afternoon lingered. Poof. It was gone. The delicious s’more I was eating might have something to do that, as well as the soothing motion of Jude’s hand rubbing up and down my arm to keep me warm. “You know,” I looked around the empty beach, “it’s really weird that we’re like the only ones here.” “It’s private,” Trent explained, confirming my earlier belief. “People coming for spring break haven’t arrived yet, it’s still a bit too early.” Shivering from the cool air, I agreed with the ‘too early’ part. Jude brought me closer against his warm body. He was like my own personal space heater.  “You want another?” He asked, leaning over to grab the box of graham crackers. “I’m still eating this one!” I protested, trying to wipe marshmallow from my mouth. Jude’s eyes zeroed in on my mouth. Before I could guess what he was about to do his mouth was on mine, sucking it away. He let my lip go with a pop and then licked his. “Got it.” Sweet baby Jesus. One minute I wanted to slap him silly and the next my hormones were in overdrive. I’m pretty sure I wanted to lick him in that moment. Could you get drunk off sugar? Because there was definitely no alcohol in my system, but I was feeling loopy. I managed to keep my tongue to myself and finished my s’more as Jude warmed a marshmallow until it was golden, then slathered the goo on the waiting graham cracker. He added the chocolate and top cracker, before taking a huge bite.  A bit of chocolate sat in the corner of his lip and I reached over, wiping it away with my finger. I popped my finger in my mouth, licking the sweetness away. Jude watched me with hooded eyes, clearly getting turned on. Yep, you could definitely get drunk on sugar. At least that’s what I was going to blame my actions on. It was easier than accepting them. I felt like we were in our own little bubble, like the blanket wrapped around us was our shield. “This is nice,” I admitted, laying my head on his sturdy shoulder.  “It’s more than nice, it’s amazing,” he breathed and his sticky lips pressed against the top of my head.  I was falling hard and fast for Jude Brooks. It was scary. I was also fighting it tooth and nail.  I didn’t want to fall in love, and certainly not with him. But matters of the heart aren’t easily won by the brain. In fact, they’re never won.

“TATUM?”  My name echoed through the dark room. When I didn’t reply, it was joined by, “Are you awake?” “Yes,” I breathed, my voice almost shaky. A moment later the sheet of the bed I slept in was lifted and a warm body pressed in behind me.  “What are you doing?” I asked, but didn’t move. He wrapped an arm tightly around my body. “Sleeping.” “Sounds more like talking,” I whispered, snuggling closer to him. He felt so good wrapped around me.  “Always the sarcastic one.” His lips pressed a kiss to my neck where the skin met my shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep by myself knowing you were in the bed beside me. It felt like cruel punishment not to sleep with you in my arms.” “I’m tired,” I yawned, snuggling closer against him. “Then go to sleep,” he whispered against my skin and I felt his smile rather than saw it. “Then stop talking,” I growled as he wound one of his legs around mine. “Night, Tater Tot.” “Night, Jude.” I finally fell asleep, and it was without a doubt the best night of sleep I’d ever had.

WHEN I WOKE UP, I thought I was suffocating. I couldn’t breathe from the body wrapped around mine like a boa constrictor. Jude was literally holding me so tight that my airways were blocked. I elbowed him in the ribs, and he released me…a little. I hadn’t moved more than an inch until his arms were wrapped around me once more and I was glued to his chest.  “Jude?” No reply. “Jude?” A grunt. “Juuuuude?”  “What?” He growled, his voice thick with sleep. He was kind of delicious sounding first thing in the morning. “You’re squishing me and there’s something poking me.” “He’s just happy to see you,” he chuckled. “I’m happy to see you too. You’re pretty in the mornings. I was a bit afraid you might look monstrous,” he said as he released me and propped his head up to look at me.  “That first comment was uncalled for,” my cheeks flamed. I couldn’t help it that I’d never slept the whole night with a guy and I didn’t know these things. “Secondly, I’m offended that you’d think I’d be anything but a beaming ray of sunshine in the mornings.” He laughed, using his other hand to wipe sleep from his eyes. “You’re so cute when you get mad.” Cute? I didn’t think any girl on the planet liked to be called cute. “You know,” he grinned, “I’m really starting to think you’re a virgin.” I bristled at that. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with being a virgin, it was just that…I don’t know…Jude had certainly been around and I didn’t want him to think that I was waiting for someone special…that he was someone special. “I’m not a virgin,” I growled. I might as well have been. I’d only slept with one guy and that had been in high school. We hadn’t really dated, just fooled around. It wasn’t one of my prouder moments. I’d been young and without anyone, and found myself seeking comfort in the arms of a guy. A guy that turned out to be a real prick. Thank God he had gone away for school and I didn’t have to look at him anymore. “I wish you were,” his eyes darkened. “I’m a selfish bastard and I want to be the only one to kiss you,” he reinforced his words by pressing his soft lips to the skin of my shoulder, “to touch you,” he glided a finger over my cheek, “to see you,” his eyes dropped to the swell of my breasts peeking out from the top of the tank I wore. “To hear you,” he murmured, his hands ghosting along my stomach, causing me to let out a soft moan.  The feelings he stirred inside me were indescribable. I felt like we were moving way too fast, and we were, but my God I didn’t care anymore. Sensible Tatum was gone and in her place was a girl I didn’t recognize, but I kind of liked her. I liked feeling happy and wanted. I’d just never thought it would be Jude to make me feel that way. Life never goes according to plan, though.  “You’re right,” I breathed, blinking up at him. “You do sound selfish.” He snickered. “Leave it to you to ruin the moment.” He eased from the bed, stretching his muscles. I forced my eyes to the ceiling so I didn’t stare at the rippling muscles concealed behind smooth, tanned skin. He slipped on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, running his fingers through his hair to tame it. I think I preferred his sexy bedhead look.  “I’m going to go brush my teeth and see what we’re doing about breakfast,” he smiled, bending down to kiss my cheek before leaving.  Jude completely baffled me. I wondered when I’d get used to his sweet side…well, it wasn’t even a side, he was just genuinely that way, but he kept it hidden from everyone else. With me, he let his guard down. I was going to have to do a better job of that myself. I stood, staring in the mirror that hung above the dresser. My long blonde hair hung down in a tangled mess. My eyes were a bleak blue, not the happy blue they’d been as a child. They were regaining a little bit of their sparkle, and I knew that was all thanks to the guy who’d just left the room. I rubbed my chest where my heart lay shattered to pieces. I wanted to believe the pieces were big enough to be put back together, but something told me the shards more closely resembled dust.  I turned away from the mirror before I could get disgusted with myself. I had a lot of issues I needed

to work through. Realistically I knew I probably needed to talk to someone, like a therapist, but I was too prideful for that.  I changed into a pair of shorts and a plain white t-shirt. I brushed my teeth, and hair, tying the strands away from my face in a bun on top of my head.  Downstairs, I found Jude and Trent watching TV. Rowan sat in the kitchen drinking her morning cup of coffee. I was pretty sure she was addicted to the stuff.  I hopped up onto the counter beside her, swishing my legs. “Morning,” she yawned. “Want some?” She pointed to the cup of coffee.  I shook my head. “No, thanks.” I liked coffee, but unlike her I didn’t need a shot of caffeine when I woke up. “Are we having breakfast here?”  She shook her head. “No, after I call and check on the kids Trent wants us to have breakfast at some diner here.” “Sounds good. What’s this?” I asked, my eyes landing on a tiny vase. It was one of those that only fit a single stem, but instead of a flower inside there was a Twizzler. She shrugged. “Ask Jude. I was just as confused as you are.” Overhearing our conversation Jude strode into the kitchen. Grinning he said, “I’m determined to show you that I’m serious about us, and that means treating you differently. Flowers are overrated, so I decided on something I know you love,” he pointed at the Twizzler in the vase. “I think Twizzler bouquets will be all the rage from now on. I’m a trendsetter.” He plucked the Twizzler out of the vase and waved it in front of my face. “Smells good, huh? It tastes even better.” I snatched the candy from his hand and took a bite. He grinned. Finishing it off, I said, “I never knew you could be so cheesy.” My words didn’t faze him. “I’m a romantic guy and wear my heart on my sleeve when it comes to you, Tater Tot. Get used to it. Real men aren’t afraid to show a girl they care.” “Aw, that was really sweet,” Rowan patted him on the shoulder as she passed by, heading for the stairs. “I almost believed you for a second.” Jude chuckled. “You wound me.” “Yeah, yeah. I’m still not convinced you’re a nursing major. I think you’re playing us all and you’re really studying drama.” Rowan replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared him down.  “Sorry to disappoint you, Row,” Jude smirked. “But I’m a sexy man nurse all the way.” I snorted at that and Row and I dissolved into a fit of giggles.  “Don’t laugh,” Jude smirked, watching me. Something told me I was in trouble with whatever he said next. “You’re the one that was checking out my ass in my scrubs.” I groaned, cheeks flaming. My reaction prevented me from retorting. It was pointless anyway.  “While this conversation has been…enlightening, I better go change so we can eat,” she pointed to her cotton sleep shorts, “and call the kids.” “I notice you didn’t deny it.” Jude placed his hands on either side of me, leaning close, his head bowed so his hair tickled my forehead. “You have a nice ass,” I shrugged. “No point in denying it.” He laughed, rubbing his nose against mine. “I like this side of you.” His lips quirked and I couldn’t contain my own smile. “What side?” I questioned. “The real one.” I started to squirm, feeling uncomfortable from his words. He stilled me by rubbing his warm hands up and down my arms in a soothing gesture. Without telling him he always knew the best thing to do for me. It was like he could read my mind.   Instead of pushing him away, I did something that surprised us both. I laid my head against his solid chest and let my body sink into his. He enfolded me in his arms and held me against him. I loved how he felt wrapped around me, like we were made for each other. I let out a shaky breath. This whole letting myself feel thing was going to be hard. Real hard. But I was trying and that was something.  “I’m ready!” Rowan called, bounding down the steps.  Jude stepped back and I hopped off the counter. Trent was oddly quiet, watching Jude and I with careful appraisal. I wondered what he thought of the two of us together.  We piled into the SUV and it didn’t take us long to get to the diner. It was nothing fancy, but it was clean so that was something. “They have the best milkshakes here,” Trent informed us, not bothering to pick up his menu. 

Rowan laughed beside him. “Trent, it’s like ten in the morning. No one wants a milkshake at this time.” “Anytime is the perfect time for a milkshake,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck and then kissing it. “Annnd there they go with the gross public displays of affection.” Jude coughed beside me as our friends completely lost themselves in each other. I might not have wanted to watch, but I did want to give Rowan a round of applause for opening herself up to Trenton. “Maybe we should get a different table?” He suggested. “No, no.” Rowan replied before I could, extracting herself from Trent’s arms and swatting him away before he could continue. “We’re here to have breakfast together. There’s time for that later,” she glared at Trent. He was completely unaffected by her threatening gaze. He’d put up with enough from her before that this didn’t faze him.  “Whatever you say.” He grinned at her, wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger. “Annnnyway,” Jude picked up a menu, “Trent’s right, it’s never too early for a milkshake. Ooh!” He exclaimed like an excited little boy. “They have chocolate peanut butter…Mmm, I love peanut butter.” He licked his lips like he could already taste it.  “I’m with Rowan on this one.” I picked up my own menu, perusing the breakfast items. “And I love ice cream, anything sweet really, so that’s saying something.” “Whatever,” Jude shrugged. “You’ll regret that decision when you see me drinking my milkshake.”  He was probably right but I wasn’t telling him that.  A waitress came by and we placed our orders. Since we were out, we decided to hang around town for a little while longer before heading back to the beach house. Once there, the guys decided to get out the jet skis. I changed into a black bikini and grabbed my beach bag. Once the jet skis were ready, the guys headed inside to change. Rowan and I relaxed on the beach while we waited for them.   They returned with four life jackets and I rolled my eyes as I took the one Jude offered me. I could swim and didn’t feel I needed one, but ‘safety first’.  Heading out to the jet skis, Trent hopped on one, Rowan climbing on behind him.  Jude tried to get in the driver’s seat of ours, but I wasn’t having that. “Whoa, bud, what do you think you’re doing?” “Bud?” He quirked a brow. “Did you seriously call me bud?” “I seriously did, bud,” I said it again just to irritate him. “I’m driving.” He put his hands on his slender hips. “And why is that?” “Because, I am.” I squared my shoulders, not backing down. Growing up with an older brother, I’d been quite the tomboy. No way in hell was I letting him drive. The Jet Ski was calling my name and my hands were itching to get on it. He sighed and handed me the key. The child in me jumped with glee. “I expect some sort of payment later,” he whispered gruffly in my ear, making me shiver as his finger glided over my collarbone. “I accept payment in the form of sexual favors.” I pushed him away. “Keep talking like that,” I warned him, “and I’ll throw you off of this thing and let the sharks eat you.” “I love sharks,” he replied, smirking, “I was thinking of getting one as pet. I think I’d name him Herbert. That sounds like a good, non-threatening name for a shark, don’t you think?” Instead of replying, I climbed on the Jet Ski. I started it up, listening to it purr to life. I looked over my shoulder at him. “You coming?” He sighed and climbed on behind me. “Too bad you have this life vest on. From this position I could totally grope your tits.”  I swatted his hand away as it inched under the vest. “I’m still not against making you shark bait,” I warned.  “A shark would never eat me,” he chuckled. “I don’t taste good. You on the other hand,” he nipped my shoulder, and then licked the same spot, “mmm, you taste real good.” Before he could say anything more, I floored the Jet Ski and we took off, bobbing up and down on the waves. I could hear Trent and Row laughing somewhere.  Jude’s thumbs rubbed slow, smooth circles over the skin of my back. It felt good, relaxing. He felt right against me. Like my body was made for his.  The wind whipped my hair in my face and I’m sure Jude kept getting a mouthful of the blonde strands, but he never, not once, complained. I think he knew I needed this moment of freedom. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. By the time we returned to the beach my cheeks hurt. I’d take that pain any day

though.  “My turn,” Jude grinned, rubbing his hands together excitedly.  This time I didn’t complain and climbed on behind him.  As he drove, I wrapped my arms around his sun-warmed chest and laid my head against his back. This felt good.  More than good, it felt right.

BY THE TIME JUDE and I finished with our fun, Trent and Row had long since left.  Jude stretched out on a towel and crooked an elbow over his eyes. “I’ll be right back,” I told him.  “I’ll be here.” Most of the day had past, and the two of us had completely forgotten lunch. It was closer to dinnertime now. I wanted to get a quick shower to rinse the ocean water off my body and make us sandwiches for a snack.  By the time I got upstairs I regretted my decision to come inside. “Oh, Trent! Yes! Harder!” I backed into a wall, slamming a hand over my eyes, which was stupid since I didn’t see anything. Oh no, I heard it. I scurried into the guestroom, feeling like an intruder. I had to get out of there. Now. I grabbed a change of clothes and left as quietly as possible, so hopefully they’d never know I’d been there. Food would have to wait.  There was an outdoor shower, so I decided to make do with that. I laid my clean clothes on a chair and went to tell Jude about the change of plans. “Hey.” I shook his shoulder and he raised his arm off his face. Clearly he’d fallen asleep.  “What’s up?” “Um,” I bit my lip, embarrassed to say the words out loud, “I kind of walked in on Trent and Row having sex, not that I saw anything,” I hastened to add. “I just…uh…heard it.” Great, now my cheeks were heating. He really was going to think I was a virgin now. “So, I’m going to take a shower out here.” I pointed over my shoulder in the general vicinity of the outdoor shower. He nodded. “Okay…but do you really need a shower? It’s still kind of early.” “I feel gross,” I replied. “I want a shower.” “Women,” he muttered, before covering his face with his arm once more. I shook my head and went to the shower. Since the showerhead was only blocked from the view of others by fence paneling—where there were large enough cracks to see through—I left my bikini on and figured I’d sit in one of the chairs and read a book while I dried. It didn’t seem like the people that owned the homes on either side were even there, but I wanted to be on the safe side. Public nudity didn’t seem like a good way to introduce myself. I turned on the water, letting it warm, and stepped beneath the spray. I instantly felt it rinsing the salt and sand from my body. I’d brought soap out to wash my body—figuring I’d do my hair later when I had access to an indoor shower. I’d just begun to lather my body when the shower door opened and I let out a yelp. The soap bottle went clattering to the pebbled floor. “Jude!” I shrieked. “What the hell?!”

His eyes were hooded, dazed. “I couldn’t get the thought of you in this shower out of my head.” He looked me up down, causing Goosebumps to break out across my skin from the intensity of his heated look.  “I could’ve been naked,” I hissed, covering my body even though it was completely unnecessary.  “I’m aware of that, and I wouldn’t have minded one bit.” Before I could shoo him away, his mouth was on mine. With one kiss he consumed me.  His mouth moved over mine like a skillful dancer. I struggled to keep up.  His tongue slipped past my lips and I gasped, drawing him in even more. He grabbed my thighs and my legs wrapped around his waist. My back was pushed against the fence wall as his hips dug into mine. My heart raced like a caged bird threatening to break free. Jude made me crazy—that was the only word for it.  “Tatum.” He growled my name, biting at my lower lip.  I whimpered in response.  I could feel him growing hard between my legs and I wanted—no, needed—more. “Jude, please,” I tore at his shirt. I was tempted to rip it off him. He set me down long enough to tear his now soaked shirt off his body. It fell to the ground with a wet thump. He picked me up once more and my hands sought his chest, exploring the smooth hard planes.  His fingers found the string of my bikini top and tugged. I felt the fabric begin to fall away from my body. The only thing keeping it from falling off completely was our chests pressed together.  I wrenched my mouth from his. I needed to get the words out of my mouth before he kissed me silly and I changed my mind. “I’m not ready.” “I know you’re not,” he kissed the skin below my ear, “but I need to feel you against me. Skin to skin. That’s it. I promise.” He pulled back far enough to see my eyes. I gave him a single nod.  He grinned and grabbed the scrap of black fabric, tossing it away. His eyes feasted on the sight of my chest laid bare to him. I suddenly felt shy and nervous. I wondered if I measured up to the other girls he’d been with. My chest wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either.  “Perfect,” he growled, almost as if he’d read my mind. His lips covered mine once more. One hand supported my body against the wall, while the other kneaded my breast. I soon found myself panting embarrassingly loud. The things he could make me feel… The man had skills.  “You were fucking made for me.” He informed me between kisses. “You’re mine, do you understand me?” In the past, the über Alpha male attitude had turned me off, but coming from Jude? It was hot.  “Yes,” I gasped, seeking his lips once more. “And you’re mine.” That’s right, I, Tatum Elizabeth O’Connor was staking claim to Jude Brooks. From this moment on he was mine. Bitches beware. I had claws and I wasn’t afraid to cut a bitch if she got too close to my man.  “You know it, baby.” He kissed me passionately, absorbing all my worries and concerns. As his lips moved against mine it was like I became a new person…no, not new. I just became me again. I’d missed me. With every stroke of his lips and play of his fingers against my breasts, I felt my happiness returning in full force. My pain and suffering and all the anger I’d lived with—a lot of it directed at him—melted away and swished down the drain along with the shower water. Jude could work magic— or at least his lips and fingers could.  I’d been holding myself back from him, even after I’d resolved to an us. Running away on the beach proved that, along with my constant need to snap at him. But I was really and truly giving myself over to him now. I wasn’t holding myself back any longer. I wanted this. I wanted him. I wanted us.  My fingers tangled in the wet strands of his hair, tugging lightly to draw him closer.  Our chests slid against each other and both of his hands now cupped my butt to hold me up. We were drenched from the shower, but neither of us seemed to mind. My wet hair clung to my face and he moved a strand away.  He didn’t try to remove my bottoms, which I was thankful for. He was respecting my boundaries and it made me appreciate him even more.  His lips slid down my neck, placing gentle kisses. “I could kiss you forever,” he breathed, raising his head so his brown eyes connected with mine. 

I nodded in agreement, because right then he’d stolen my ability to speak. He placed one last lingering kiss on my lips before pulling away. He picked up my bikini top and instead of handing it to me he proceeded to help me put it back on—taking extra time to cup my breasts. I thought it was safe to say that Jude was a boob man. “Why’d you stop?” I panted, still out of breath from our activities. “Because,” he pressed his forehead to mine, his gaze searing me with its intensity, “you aren’t ready for more yet and if we kept at it we might’ve gotten in trouble. I never want to do anything you’d regret.” He smoothed his fingers down my cheeks, causing my lashes to flutter. Great, I’d turned into one of those girls that swooned. I was in too good of a mood to care, though. Jude picked up his drenched shirt and headed for the shower door—which was really more like a flimsy gate. He turned back and looked at me with dark, serious eyes. “Every time I kiss you I never think the next one can top it, but it does.” He let the gate close and I was left standing there in a daze. I wasn’t sure if it was what had transpired between us, or his words that had left me so jumbled. I was going to guess that it was a mix of both.  I turned the water off and tried to smooth my fingers through my sopping hair since it was now a tangled mess.  When I came out of the shower Jude was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs drinking a beer. There was another one sitting by the other chair, waiting for me. I didn’t drink at all, but right then I felt like I needed five beers to calm my shaking nerves. That boy could wind me up like no other. He knew all the right things to do and say. I sat down in the empty chair and brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.  “I got you a beer.” He nodded at the bottle sitting on the ground. I gave him a weak smile. “I don’t drink, not after what happened to Graham.” I’d never said the words aloud, but it felt good to tell him. I found that Jude made me want to be honest. I didn’t want to hide myself from him. I wanted to give it all to him.  “Ah, I see,” he nodded in understanding. He brought the beer bottle to his lips, taking a small sip. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but I’m really sorry about your brother.” His eyes sparkled with sincerity. “When you talk about him…I know you loved him a lot.” My smile cracked and I looked out to the ocean. “Even though he’s been gone a long time, I still love him and miss him,” I admitted, tucking a stray hair behind my ear, and squinting from the sunlight. “Sometimes I wake up and think it was a nightmare, but then I realize it was real and it all comes crashing down on me again.” I found myself opening up to him further, telling him even more things I’d never told another soul. “My mom kind of lost it when Graham died. And when I say lost it, I don’t mean in a violent way.” I sighed. “She retreated into herself. It’s what I wanted to do. Escape,” I said the word softly. “But I couldn’t. I had to carry on and be strong. Since she shut down I had to be the one to keep moving. I had to run the house and keep her fed and my clothes washed. It was all on me. My dad…” I shook my head, laughing humorlessly. “He buried himself in work and Lord knows what else. My mom and I…we ceased to matter to him. He started working later and later, and sometimes he doesn’t even come home at all.” I bit my lip, wondering if I should continue, but then I did, unable to stop myself. “The other day I woke up to the sounds of someone in the kitchen. I thought someone had broken into the house.” I scrubbed a hand over my face and peeked at Jude out of the corner of my eye. He still sat, listening intently. He didn’t look bored or irritated with my tale. “It was my dad. He was home making breakfast. He got mad when I asked him why and we got in a fight. It pissed him off because I was curious as to why he was making breakfast. After him being absent for so long, I thought it was weird. Anyway, I stormed off to my room, and when I came out he was gone.” I felt my lip begin to tremble with the threat of tears. I turned my head to look at Jude. “When I lost my brother I lost my parents too. I even lost my friends because I couldn’t deal. I lost everyone and I’ve been so alone for so long. Having Rowan has made it better, but being with you makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t been in a long time.” He reached over, wiping away my tears with his thumb. “Thank you.” “Thank you?” It seemed like such an odd response to everything I’d told him. Granted, it was probably better than him running away like a crazy person. “Why are you thanking me?” “Because, I know it took a lot of courage for you to share that with me. You’re not an open person, Tate. It’s hard to get to know you. So, thank you.” He wiped the last of my tears away and sat back. “I guess I should tell you something personal now too, huh?”

“Like our question game?” I forced a laugh. “Sort of,” he shrugged. He finished off his beer, slapping his hands on his thighs as he looked out at the ocean and away from me. “My mom wasn’t much of a mom. She left when I was fourteen. Kind of messed with my head,” he shrugged, picking up the bottle of beer I had neglected to drink. He tilted his head towards me and smiled slowly. “I guess that’s what sent me into my man-whore ways. Like your dad, mine’s a workaholic. Never home. Never willing to talk when he is. Before my mom left, she was pretty shitty anyway. As you already know, I ended up spending a lot of time at my grandparent’s on the farm. They practically raised me from the time I was five until I started college. They’re the reason I’m not a complete asshole,” he winked at me. “My parent’s never really wanted a kid. If I could have a dollar for every time I was told that I was mistake…” He chuckled but there was no humor in it. He took another gulp of beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “They didn’t beat me, so I guess there’s that.” For some reason I flinched and a long buried memory of my dad’s fist connecting with Graham’s cheek entered my mind. “Luckily, I had Pap and Grams. The farm gave me a much-needed peace. I loved it there…I love it there,” he amended. “They helped me to see that even though I had shitty parents, it didn’t mean I was a shitty person.”  I scooted my chair over to his. “Jude?” “Yeah?” He set the beer aside. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” His chuckle was the only answer.

“THIS IS NICE, RIGHT?” Trent asked, spreading his arms wide as we walked into the fancy restaurant. Once he and Rowan finally finished their sexcapade they’d been starving.  Now, the four of us stood in the entrance of a very fancy seafood restaurant.   So fancy, in fact, that we’d had to dress up. Rowan and I both wore dresses. Trent was in a pair of designer jeans and button down shirt. Jude wore a pair of his favorite tan pants and a blue polo shirt. I wanted to lick him. He wore blue so well. I was close to telling him that he could only wear blue from now on.  “Very nice,” I agreed.  I felt out of my element in a place like this. I could tell Rowan and Jude felt the same way. Trenton, however, was completely at ease. I guess growing up a billionaire will do that to you. Surprisingly though, Trent and his family acted like they were completely normal. It was refreshing. The hostess returned to her station and Trent spoke with her. Since it was a chilly evening we couldn’t sit outside. Instead, we were seated in a room with windows all the way around. There was only the one table and I certainly appreciated the privacy it provided, although I was beginning to wonder how much this meal was going to cost.  Trent pulled out a chair for Row. I sat down before Jude could even think of pulling out mine. “Don’t worry about the price,” Trent spoke up, as if he could hear my internal babbling, “it’s on me.” His words didn’t make me feel better. I didn’t want my best friend’s boyfriend—fiancé—paying for my meal.  “No, don’t do that,” I said quickly, picking up a menu. My eyes bugged out at the prices. Oh, dear lord. I was positive one meal here cost more than my car.  “I insist. I wouldn’t have come here if I wasn’t paying.” He waved his hand dismissively, taking a sip of the ice water a waiter had brought while I was freaking out over the prices. “Thanks,” I cracked a smile. Suddenly, I felt Jude’s warm hand on my leg, rising higher and higher. I didn’t get mad like I should have. Instead I found myself biting my lip to stifle my moan. Just when his hand was almost where I wanted he let go. I whimpered from its absence but he’d had his desired effect in distracting me.  I planned on ordering the cheapest meal on the menu, but that proved futile since nothing was cheap.  I felt guilty through the entire meal, but it was worth every penny Trent was spending on it. I’d never tasted anything so delicious. The seafood was cooked to perfection and the flavors zinged in my mouth. I wished I could cook something that delicious.  After the meal, we headed back to the beach house. It was late so we all headed straight for bed. I’d showered before we ate, but Jude hadn’t so he locked himself in the bathroom. I guess I wouldn’t be interrupting his shower like he had mine earlier. I got all tingly just thinking about what happened between us in the shower this afternoon.  While he was showering, I took off my makeup and changed into my pajamas—which was just a t-shirt

long enough to cover my thighs. I didn’t bother with pants. The room was on the warm side and if Jude slept with his body plastered against mine again tonight I’d end up drenched in sweat. So, no pants was my solution. I wondered what Jude would think once he discovered I wasn’t wearing any. I wasn’t trying to tease him, or tempt him…okay, maybe a teeny bit. I turned off the lights and lay down in the bed. I was exhausted from all the fun I’d had today, but I was determined not to fall asleep until he came to bed.  Five minutes later the door cracked open.  From the glow of a nightlight shoved in one of the outlets I could see the beads of water clinging to his abs. One of the droplets of water I stared at disappeared into the top of the white towel wrapped around his waist. I swallowed thickly, my eyes never leaving him as he stepped over to his suitcase and bent to grab a pair of clean boxers. I didn’t even look away when he dropped the towel. I swallowed thickly at the sight. The man was perfect, of that I was sure. “I can feel you watching me,” he stated, pulling his boxers in place and hiding his ass from my greedy eyes. I didn’t look away when he turned around to face me. I could hear my pulse racing as he approached, his eyes hungry. “You know, I never collected on the sexual favor you owed me for letting you drive the Jet Ski first.” “Wasn’t that what happened in the shower?” My voice cracked as he hovered above me. His body was large and when he was above me like this I felt so small but protected. I knew he’d never hurt me. At least not physically. Now, my heart? That was a whole other matter. He definitely had the power to break me that way.  “That, my dear Tate,” he flexed his arms in push up position, his mouth sucking on my neck, “was merely a warm-up. You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I swallowed thickly and felt my body start to break out in a sweat. I wasn’t sure if my body’s response was because I was scared, or turned on. Probably turned on. Yeah, definitely that. My back bowed when his hips dug into mine. Despite my declaration of no sex this afternoon, I was about two seconds away from throwing my underwear across the room. His fingers found the edge of my shirt and raised it up. He explored my stomach with a soft touch before finding the band of my panties. “I really like that you’re not wearing pants. I think that should be a rule between us.” “What? Not to wear pants? That would be awfully inconvenient when we had to be in public.” My words should have had a sarcastic biting edge, but instead they came out as a pant. “No,” he nuzzled my neck, the slight stubble on his cheeks and jaw chafing my skin, but in the most delicious way. “Only when it’s the two of us should the pants come off. I don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine, and this,” I gasped when his hand clasped me below, “belongs to me.” He kissed my collarbone, up my neck, over my chin, and finally my lips. He pulled away enough to whisper, “I want to touch you, Tatum. That’s all. I swear. I won’t push you for more.” I swallowed thickly, unable to breathe for a moment as his stare penetrated me. With his body heat warming me and that look in his eyes, I was a goner. I nodded my head slowly, almost imperceptibly at first and then with more surety. “I want to make you feel good, baby,” he growled, nipping at my skin.  I closed my eyes, heat rushing through my body as he parted my panties. I’d never been one for silly nicknames, but I was really starting to like every name Jude had for me. Even Tater Tot. It was our thing. Even more than nicknames, I was really enjoying what his skilled fingers were doing to me. I probably should’ve been irritated by just how good he was, but I was too far-gone. I was too wrapped up in him now to get scared for stupid reasons. I clung to his shoulders as he rubbed his fingers against me. No one had ever touched me there like he was and I’d had no idea it could feel so good.  My breath soon turned to pants echoing against his ear.  His hair brushed against my chin and then his eyes met mine in a questioning manner. “It feels good,” I assured him.  There was a nervous edge to him, like he was determined to show me a good time. He wasn’t disappointing. “Please, Jude,” I begged. “More.” He kissed me deeply, still moving his hand against me. Two fingers slipped inside me and I gasped, clawing at him. It was tight, but felt amazing. 

As he moved his fingers, the pressure built but my tension eased. My body began to relax and it felt even better. My whole body began to curl in on itself and my eyes closed. My heart sounded like thunder in my ears and I saw sparks behind my closed lids. I knew something monumental was about to happen to me—something I’d never been able to experience with my other sexual encounters. And then, I gasped loudly chanting his name over and over as I reached my peak and fell down. Down. Down. Down. But then Jude was there to catch me. I shook against him. I couldn’t believe that had just happened and I felt mildly embarrassed.  I opened my eyes slowly, suddenly feeling shy. He was watching me with a look of reverence.  “God, you’re amazing.” His voice thrummed through me. I still felt like I was floating.  “Kiss me,” I pleaded. And boy did he kiss me. Even though his lips were pressed against mine, it felt like he was kissing me everywhere—branding me as his.  There was no coming back from this. My heart—that treacherous beast—was all wrapped up in Jude. He was quickly becoming all I could think about. Like his grandpa said, I felt him. He was all around me. Not in the physical sense. His presence was just that potent. Even when he was nowhere near me, my mind and body yearned for him. He’d placed a permanent mark on my heart, carving out a space for himself. I don’t how he’d done it—I’d long ago believed that organ to be frozen and unmoving—but he did, and there was no going back. Something told me I was only going to end up hurt and broken, but I couldn’t find the sense to care anymore. Once the heart gets involved, the mind can’t win.  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. He smoothed his fingers through my hair. “Fucking amazing and you don’t even know it. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” “I’m nothing special.” I swallowed thickly. It was true. I was just a girl and he was just a boy. We weren’t extraordinary we were just…us. “You’re everything.” He kissed me again—and my God I would never get used to his kisses. His hips ground into mine and I could feel him. All of him. My hands skittered down his chest as he kissed me and before he knew what I was doing, my hands were around him. His body quaked as I ran my hand up and down his hard length. Holy hell. He was huge. There was no way that was fitting inside me, ever. And by that I meant his cock. Even thinking the word made me squirm. I needed to grow up and stop freaking out. I wasn’t sixteen. I was a twenty-two year old woman. There was nothing wrong with me having sex or wanting to have sex. But growing up in a strict household, sex had always been made to feel dirty and wrong.  Looking at the pleasure on Jude’s face…there was nothing dirty or wrong about that. It was magnificent. I ran my thumb along the tip and his eyes shot open. He grabbed my hands and fisted them in his own, pulling them away. Hurt filled me and my lips turned down. “Jude? What’d I do?” My voice shook with the threat of tears. Had I done something wrong? While I’d had sex, I was pretty inexperienced and I’d never had any desire to get up and personal with a guy’s— His words cut off my racing thoughts. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he panted, swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed. “God that felt fucking amazing. But what I did was for you. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to return the favor.” He kissed my forehead and rolled over so he was behind me. He pulled my body against his so that there was no space between us.  “I want to.” “No, Tate,” his lips pressed to my neck, “tonight is for you and only you.” I grew quiet, clasping my hands beneath my head. Finally, when I couldn’t stand the silence another second, I asked, “Isn’t that painful?” I rubbed my butt against his still blatantly present hard-on.  “Some pains are worth the reward, and seeing you come apart like that, screaming my name…that was worth everything.”

With those words I fell asleep with a satisfied smile.

“JUUUUUUUUUDE!” I SHRIEKED AS he ran down the beach with me on his back piggyback style. It was safe to say we were acting like five year olds, but I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. “You’re going to drop me!” “I’d never drop you!” He declared, spinning me around. “Picture!” Rowan called out, holding her phone up. Jude stopped spinning, teetering to the side a bit as he regained his balance.  “Smile,” Rowan declared. “I am smiling,” Jude and I replied simultaneously. He lifted his head to look at me and we burst out laughing. All the while Rowan snapped away, taking pictures of our moment. Our spring break was coming to an end. Tomorrow morning we had to head back home to the real world. But all four of us were determined to enjoy our last day, and by some miracle we’d been blessed with warm weather. The ocean was still nippy, but I wasn’t opposed to putting my toes in it.  “Text those to me.” Jude told Rowan after she’d taken all the photos she wanted.  “I will,” she laughed, running over to Trent. There were more people on the beach today, a few even our age. When Rowan had invited me, I’d expected crowds of college kids, but that hadn’t happened thanks to the private beach. I preferred it that way. I didn’t like being surrounded by lots of people or noise. Last night Jude and I had hung out on the beach, just talking for a while, and then I decided to read. I hadn’t read a book for fun since…well, probably before I started college. My studies left little time for relaxation. Soon I’d have no time, because I knew once we graduated I needed to find a job and move out on my own.  I climbed off Jude’s back and we collapsed in the sand, rolling around. “Hey,” he smiled down at me. “Hi.” I smiled back. “You know,” he poked my cheek, “when you smile really big, you have this dimple right here.” He poked me again for good measure. “I like it. I think I need to kiss it.” “Oh, really?” I giggled.  “Mhmm,” he murmured, kissing my cheek where just a moment ago he’d poked me. “I love your smile. Have I told you that?” “Only a few times.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. He looked down at me, his stare intense. I shivered, despite the warmth of the sand against my back and the heat of the air.  My lips parted, expecting him to kiss me, but he didn’t. He curled his fingers in my hair. “I love your smile,” he repeated. “Your laugh. The way your eyes light up when your happy. The way you say my name. I love it all.”

“My, Jude Brooks, it sounds like you love me,” I took on an overly dramatic southern accent.  My words were like a bucket of ice water to the both of us. He rolled out of my hold and sat in the sand, staring out at the ocean. Oh, shit. “Jude,” I gasped, fear at my own words consuming me, “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, how could you love me?” I rambled. “I’m kind of a bitch,” I muttered. “I’m really quite a mess, actually. I honestly meant it as a joke.” “Hey,” he turned to me, his gaze instantly shutting me up. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re not a bitch and you’re not a mess. A little lost? Maybe. But who isn’t?” His shoulders sagged. “I just wasn’t expecting that is all. You surprised me. I’m sorry.” “Please, don’t apologize to me.” I scooted over beside him.  “I know you didn’t mean it like that, but I want you to know…I might not be able to say the words yet, and I know you’re nowhere near ready to hear them, but I’m well on my way to being in love with you.” “Jude.” My heart did this nervous fluttery thing inside my chest. If he kept this up I was going to have a heart attack before we graduated. “Please, don’t be scared. The last thing I want is to scare you away, but I just want you to know where this is heading for me. I know a part of you still thinks this is a fling for me, but it’s not Tate. When I look at you, I see my future.” Tears glimmered in my eyes. I wasn’t sure if they were happy, sad, or scared-out-of-my-mind tears. I was going with scared.  “How can you say that?” I asked. I needed to know what made him so sure. Why could he, Jude ManWhore Brooks, see us together but I couldn’t?  “It’s the truth.” He said it simply with a small shrug, like it was no big deal, but it was a huge deal. At least to me. A few days ago I would’ve been mad over his words, but now I was simply stunned. The person in this relationship that should’ve been fighting us tooth and nail was Jude. He was the one that couldn’t stay with a girl and settle down. But instead it was me that was scared shitless while he was probably sitting there picturing a wedding and babies and all that jazz. Wow. What a freaking role reversal. This was insane. We were insane.  “Don’t be scared, Tate.” “I’m not,” I said quickly. “You’re a really bad liar,” he chuckled. “Whatever you’re imagining, I promise my thoughts aren’t that bad.” He started to laugh harder. “I haven’t named our kids past Jude Jr. I figured I’d let you pick the other five.” “Six?!” I screamed. “You want six kids?!” I was pretty close to passing out. Someone grab the smelling salts. Stat. Jude fell back in the sand laughing so hard he clutched his stomach. “Oh my God! Your face!” He wiped tears from his eyes. “You should’ve seen your face! That was priceless. I wish I’d gotten a picture.”  As he rolled around, still laughing at my expense, I grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at him. He was unperturbed by the projectile. I needed something larger. Like a rock. Or a missile.  “Stop laughing at me!” I scolded.  He didn’t listen. Finally I just gave up and started laughing with him. It was pretty funny after all. Well played, Jude Brooks. Well freakin’ played. “You’re kind of an ass.” I told him when we sobered.  “Ah, but I’m your ass,” he grinned, “and face it, you really, really like me.” “I do,” I conquered. “I’m a likable guy.” “When you’re not being annoying,” I shrugged. He fake gasped. “I am never annoying.” “You wish,” I patted his shoulder. He looked at where my hand was. “Did you just pat my shoulder like we’re friends?” “I did,” I nodded.

He did the gasping thing again. Before I could blink he had me pinned on the ground, the sand sticking to my skin. He had quite the knack for pinning me down. I kind of liked it actually, but I was never telling him that. “Oh, we are so far past friends, Tate.” “Are we now?” I quirked a brow. “Mhmm,” he nodded. “Friends don’t kiss like this.” And then he lowered his mouth to demonstrate. He kissed me leisurely, like we had all the time in the world, and I was happy to let him. When he pulled away I mewled in protest, causing him to chuckle. It wasn’t my fault his kisses were mindblowing. “And I don’t think you let your friends touch you here.” His fingers glided over the tops of my breasts, which heaved behind the confines of my bikini top. “Or here.” His hand went lower, cupping me over my shorts.  “Jude!” I gasped. “People can see you!” “I don’t care,” he said simply.  “I do!”  “Well,” he kissed my cheek, rolling off of me, “you shouldn’t care so much what people think. People’s opinions of you don’t change a thing.” He stared out at the dark blue ocean and sighed. His face grew serious. “I don’t want to go home.” “Me either.” He continued on like I hadn’t even spoken. “I’m afraid that when we go home, everything will go back to the way it was before…that this will have all been a dream and you’ll hate me again. I don’t like you hating me, Tate.” He glanced at me and I could see the hurt etched into his face. He really meant what he said. “That’s not going to happen, Jude.” I assured him, but he didn’t relax. I laid my head on his shoulder.  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he muttered, almost like he hadn’t meant to say the words out loud.  I realized then that Jude had been doing nothing but trying to prove to me he cared for a while. I hadn’t been nearly so open with my thoughts or feelings for him. I was closed off and sheltered. Jude said he wore his heart on his sleeve, and he was right. But I kept mine guarded.  “I’ll just have to prove it to you,” I murmured. I meant it too. Jude had shown he was different with me. Now, it was my turn to show that I was different with him—that we were two halves of a whole. A fucked up whole, but a whole nonetheless.

THE STARS SPARKLED ABOVE me and the ocean roared as it crashed against the sand. The night had grown cold, but I wore a sweatshirt and had a blanket wrapped around my shoulders to protect against the wind.  I’d found myself unable to sleep. My mind wouldn’t shut up. When the clock read one in the morning, I gave up and came out here. I’d hoped the sound of the ocean would make me sleepy, but so far it hadn’t. I was sure it was closer to two now. Maybe I’d be able to sleep in the car. Trent wanted to get an early start home. I could tell that he and Rowan wanted to get back home to Tristan and Ivy. It was weird to think that my best friend was a mom. Crazy, really. We were so young.  I sighed, stretching my legs out in front of me.  I startled when a body sank down next to me. Jude. I should’ve known he’d show up.  In fact, I was actually surprised that it took him this long to come find me. He had a sweatshirt and sweatpants on, but he still reached for the blanket. I thought he was cold and moved closer, but when he wrapped his arms around me I knew he was only trying to get me warm. Oh Jude, ever the thoughtful one. Tears pricked my eyes. I’d always believed Jude to be the villain, but he wasn’t at all. He was amazing in so many ways. He was by far a better person than me. He was the hero of this tale and I was the wicked witch. I’d been so incredibly wrong about him and I’d hate myself for the rest of my life for that fact.

“What are you doing out here, Tate? You’re going to get sick. Look at you, you’re freezing,” he admonished. I shivered as if my body needed to drive home his point. “I couldn’t sleep.” “So, you could’ve watched TV or something. You didn’t need to come out here,” he continued, his voice carrying a tinge of worry. I shrugged. “I thought the ocean would soothe me.” He put a hand to my forehead, his nurse instincts kicking in. “Please, come inside.” “Not yet.” I lay back on the ground, staring up at the stars. They sparked above me, so pretty. Surprisingly, they weren’t as clear as they’d been on his grandpa’s farm. As a little girl I’d loved stargazing. Graham and I used to camp out on the trampoline and look at the stars until the wee hours of the morning. I wondered if, like Jerry said, one of those stars up there was Graham. He’d certainly shined brighter than most people. I’d lost my best friend, not just my brother, when he died. I was learning that I’d always feel his absence, but I’d have to find a way to deal with it. Pain doesn’t have to shut you down.  Jude lay down beside me and entwined our hands together. He gave mine a reassuring squeeze.  I felt tears coat my cheeks. They weren’t necessarily tears of sadness, although there was a little of that. Instead, they were tears of acceptance.  Jude’s finger brushed against my cheek and he startled at the wetness.  “Why are you crying?” “Because,” my lower lip trembled, “he’s gone and I’m here and I handled everything wrong.” I turned my head towards Jude, taking a deep breath. “I’m so sorry for how mean I’ve been to you.” I grasped the soft cotton of his sweatshirt in my hands and drew myself closer to his body, curling into him. “I see now how wrong I was for everything. Not just with you, but with everybody. I distanced myself, even from Rowan, because I never wanted to feel the pain of losing another person ever again. It hurt too much. But what’s life without a little pain, right?” He wiped my cheeks free of tears. “I’m accepting that he’s gone and I can’t change the past, but I can change my future.” I clung to him, like my grasp on his sweatshirt could hold me together. “You make me happy,” I whispered. I needed him to hear the words, to grasp the meaning. “What I feel for you scares me so much. So much,” I reiterated. “Love is a messy, complicated thing that I wanted to avoid. But you, Jude Brooks, are unavoidable. Please, be patient with me. You know how stubborn I can be. Don’t lose faith in what we have. Wait for me, please.” “Always,” he cupped my cheek. “You’re worth it.” He pressed his lips tenderly against my forehead and I sighed in relief. In his arms I didn’t just feel at peace…I was home.

WE EVENTUALLY WENT BACK INSIDE and got a few hours of sleep, but soon Trent and Row were demanding we get up.  Rowan smiled with satisfaction when she opened the bedroom door and found us in the same bed with Jude’s arms wrapped firmly around my body.  I dressed in comfy clothes for the journey home and Trent came in to get one of my bags. Jude grabbed the other. Just like when we got here. When I stepped out of the room the door across from our room was open. It had been closed the whole time we’d been here and I hadn’t ventured to explore. This wasn’t my house and I didn’t want to be nosy. My mouth fell to my toes when I saw what lay beyond.  A single queen-sized bed. Those liars. I just knew there had to be three bedrooms in a home this large. Trent caught my expression and smiled sheepishly as he started down the steps. “She made me lie.” Jude peeked over my shoulder to see what had caused me to stand still in the doorway. He began to snicker. “Remind me to thank her later.” “Will do!” Trenton called as he ran down the rest of the steps as fast he could.  I started to laugh. A small part of me wanted to be mad, but it was pointless. I’d enjoyed sharing a room—and bed—with Jude far too much to get angry about it now. Rowan The Matchmaker. Who knew? She’d been so against loving Trenton, but now she wanted everyone else to have love too. I finally got my feet moving and we piled in the car. In the backseat I laid my head upon Jude’s shoulder and soon I fell asleep. I was awakened two hours later when we stopped for breakfast. It had been dark when we left, but now the sun was shining in the sky.  For the rest of the drive I slept off and on.  Jude awakened me gently when we arrived at my house. “Hey sleepyhead,” he murmured, kissing the corner of my mouth.  I rubbed my eyes, blinking at the large house in front of us. I almost didn’t recognize it.  Jude reached up and tucked a stray piece of hair back into place behind my ear. There was a sadness in his eyes, like he was afraid to part ways. I was too, so I was glad I wasn’t alone. “Time to go home,” he said forlornly.  I nodded, unable to find my voice. We both clamored out and he grabbed my suitcases, taking them to the door and sitting them down.  Rowan and Trent waited in the car for him to return, but were kind enough to give us a moment. “So, I was thinking,” he shoved his hands in his pockets, “tomorrow’s Sunday…” “Yeah?” I prompted when he trailed off.

He shook his head and returned to reality. “I was thinking maybe we could go to Pap’s for the day. It’s supposed to be nice and I know he’d love to see you.” I nodded. “That sounds great.” “Good,” he grinned, appearing relieved.  I was beginning to realize that when it came to me, Jude had a lot of insecurities. I guess my rude comments over the years had, had more affect than I ever realized. Good or bad, words were powerful. He kissed me quickly, not wanting to give our audience a show. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called, jumping off the porch steps. “Show off,” I muttered, to which he grinned. “I’ll text you later with a time I’ll be by to pick you up,” he told me. I nodded, digging my house key out of my pocket. I took a deep breath, bracing myself, before I opened the door. “TATUM ELIZABETH O’CONNOR!” My name was shouted at the top of my dad’s lungs. I hadn’t known he was here since he parked in the garage, and I hadn’t expected him so I was beyond shocked to hear him yelling my name. “Dad?” My voice cracked and my whole body shook.  He came storming out of the back area of the house, where his home office lay. I couldn’t remember the last time he set foot in there. “Where the hell have you been?!” He was still yelling even though I was in front of him. His voice was so loud that it made my ears ring. His face was red, veins bulging, and spittle clung to his lips. For the first time in my life I felt real fear. “I-I-I was at t-the beach with my f-friends,” I stuttered. I was scared out of my mind. I was tempted to open the door and run outside to see if my friends still lingered, but I feared what would happen if they were…more so if they weren’t there.  “The beach? The fucking beach? For a week? You have school, Tatum! And your mom! How could you be so irresponsible!” I wanted to scream back, but fright kept my voice eerily soft. “It was spring break, dad,” I whispered. I was going into survival mode. Talking to him like he was suicidal and standing on a ledge. “Spring break?! You should’ve cleared this with me!” He yelled, slamming a fist against his chest.  “I’m twenty-two, dad,” I held my hands up in a calming motion, “I can go on spring break with my friends if I want. I don’t need your permission.” His breathing was labored and his face was still red. He kind of reminded me of a bull.  “I saw you with that Brooks boy! He’s bad fucking news Tatum! Not the kind of boy for a girl like you!”  What the hell? There was no way he could’ve seen us if he’d been in his office. “H-how do you know about that?” I was stammering again. Great. “I had cameras installed while you were away. Lord knows what you’re up to in my house,” he pounded his chest again. “Got one on the door and I saw you pull up and get out with him. A boy like that,” he shook his head, “oh, Tate, what have you done?” His anger started rising again as his thoughts headed in a dangerous direction. “Have you fucked him in my house?!” “What?!” I was stunned. “No! Of course not, dad!” “You’re nothing but a useless whore spreading your legs for that boy!” He looked me up and down, with a sneer on his face. I could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath. The glare on his face made me feel like trash. “You’re nothing but a disgrace like your brother!” And then he slapped me. He’d never hit me before, but now I could remember times where I’d caught him hitting Graham.  Tears stung my eyes and my cheek felt like it was on fire. Silence hung heavy in the air. I didn’t move and neither did he. We just stood there, staring at each other, waiting for the other person to make a move. I was frozen, afraid that if I moved he’d come after me. I’d never dealt with a situation like this. What was I supposed to do? After what felt like an hour, but was really more like seconds, he turned away. He walked at a leisurely pace back to his office. To a casual observer he seemed unaffected, but I knew my dad and I

could tell from the rigid curve of his shoulders that he was still mad. Mad at me? Or himself? I wasn’t sure. When I knew he wasn’t coming back I gabbed my suitcases and dragged them up the steps behind me. I was shaken, but I refused to cry.  I would not be beaten down. I stood in the doorway of my bedroom, looking towards the closed door of my parent’s room where I was sure my mom lay. It pissed me off that she had done nothing to protect Graham from that monster. What kind of mother didn’t protect her children? The answer was easy. The kind that was scared.  I closed my bedroom door and locked it. I heard the garage door open a few minutes later and I knew he was gone. I tore my room apart, searching for a camera. I was convinced he’d put one in my room too, if he was crazy enough to have one on the front door. I didn’t find it though. If there was one in there, it was well hidden. I stood in the middle of my room, hands on my hips, staring at the destruction. It kind of looked like my life. A chaotic, out of control, mess.  God. I sunk to the floor. My butt landed on a shoe and I flinched. I picked it up and threw it across my room. It dented the wall, but I didn’t care.  I pulled at my hair, letting out a scream of frustration. I was so done with this. With my life. When did it all get so fucked up? Simple, it always was. But as a child I’d looked the other way, thinking it was normal. And it wasn’t that my dad was always a bad person. He had his good moments. But all I could see now was the bad moments. He had a temper and he wasn’t afraid to raise his voice or use his fists.  Rowan had been right.  Graham’s suicide had nothing at all to do with Jude. It was all them. My parents. Mom and dad. The two people that should’ve loved and cared for us unconditionally. What a load of bullshit. Even my mom, when she wasn’t in her catatonic state, hadn’t been all rainbows and sunshine. I couldn’t remember seeing her hit Graham like my dad did, but she did yell a lot. Graham and I were expected to succeed and when we failed…well, the repercussions weren’t pretty. I had to get out of this house. But with no job and no money I was screwed. I knew if I asked Rowan and Trent they would take me in. They were nice people like that. Heck, Trent’s brother and sister-in-law didn’t even really know me, but I knew they’d never let me sleep in my car or on the street. And then there was Jude. I knew if I told him about this he’d be determined to protect me, and probably pick a fight with my dad in the process.  I couldn’t tell him, or any of them. This had to stay my secret for a while longer until I could make it on my own.

THE CHIME DINGED PLEASANTLY above the door when I walked into the shop. Jude had text me earlier and I still had two hours before he picked me up to go to his grandpa’s. I was utilizing my time by going in and out of stores and applying for jobs. I’d been unsuccessful with anything close to school or my house, so I’d ventured to the next town over. Almost immediately a quaint little cupcake shop called my name. A guy about my age, maybe a little younger, was working at the counter. Floppy brown hair fell in his bright unnaturally blue eyes. He was good looking sure, but there was something different about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He seemed wise behind his years, but wit sparkled in his eyes and his lips were turned up in a playful smile. I could tell this guy was going to be a handful if I got

the job. “Hi, I’m Tatum,” I said politely, giving him a small smile. “I saw the sign on the door saying you were hiring.” He adjusted his black baseball cap, which was emblazoned with the cupcake store’s name. Lucinda’s.  “Yeah, let me grab Lucinda.” He started for the back, but turned back to me and stopped. He reached his hand over the counter. “How dare me forget my manners with such a pretty girl,” he winked. I took his hand and shook it. “I’m Bryce.” He nodded his head towards the tables. “Have a seat and she’ll be right out.” “Wait…” I called and he paused before heading in the back. “Is she going to interview me now? I’m hardly dressed for an interview.” I looked down at my jeans and t-shirt. “I just wanted to apply.” Bryce held his hands up in surrender. “Just doing what the boss would want.” “Great,” I forced a smile. There was no way I’d get hired like this. A moment later an older lady breezed out of the swinging door and headed my way. My nerves skyrocketed. “Hello, I’m Tatum,” I stood, shaking her hand. She smiled pleasantly, smoothing her wavy gray hair away from her face. While she was older, the age of a grandparent, there was a timeless beauty to her. Few wrinkles lined her face and there was a twinkle in her eyes. “I’m Lucinda, the owner. Bryce said you were looking for a job?” I nodded. She began to ask me more questions and I answered them as best I could. I was nervous but I didn’t think I was doing too bad. Finally, when she was done, I looked around. The walls were painted hot pink and there was an overall vibe in the place that could only be described as funky. It didn’t seem like the kind of place a grandma would own.  “Your shop is adorable,” I told her in all honesty. “Thank you,” she smiled, and appeared to be thinking over everything we’d discussed. “How soon can you start?” She asked. I bit my lip, thinking. After this week I was done shadowing Jude and I had no commitments that extended beyond that. “The week after this one,” I answered. “That’s perfect!” She clapped her hands together in excitement. “Bryce and I will train you.” She leaned in close to me. “He’s quite a mess, that one. Don’t believe a thing he says.” I laughed. “I’ll remember that.” She lowered her voice further. “He’s the brother of my granddaughter’s husband, so I have to keep him around.” “I heard that!” Bryce called from the counter. I turned to look at him and shook my head. There was no way he heard that with as softly as Lucinda spoke. Lucinda laughed and shook her head. “See what I mean?” She stood, extending her hand one last time. “I’ll see you next Monday, Tatum. Leave your information with Bryce and I’ll contact you when I have the schedule ready.” “Thank you so much.” I meant it too. Lucinda had taken a huge weight off my shoulders by giving me a job. This was one less thing I had to worry about. “You’re welcome, dear,” she smiled sweetly. I thought I would really like working there, and then I turned to see a grinning Bryce. Yep, that one was trouble. “Give me those digits pretty lady.” He licked his lips suggestively and held a pen to the palm of his hand.  I narrowed my eyes and tore the pen from his hands. “No way. You’ll lose it like that and I need this job.” “You tell him!” Lucinda cackled from the back. “Oh, Bryce, I think you’ve met your match! He’s scared every other employee away!” Lucinda continued to holler through the door. How did these people hear these things? Jesus.  Bryce gave me a sheepish shrug and handed me a piece of paper. I wrote my information down and handed it to him. “This better not get ‘lost.’” I made sure to put emphasis on the word ‘lost’ so he’d know I was on to him. He chuckled. “I like you.”

“See you next Monday,” I called over my shoulder as I left the shop, choosing to ignore Bryce’s comment. His laughter carried behind me as the door swung closed. I headed back home, taking my time since I really didn’t want to be at home. I still had thirty minutes before Jude was supposed to pick me up, but when I got home his truck was parked in front of the house. I shut my car off and jogged over to the driver’s side of the truck. He rolled the window down and smiled at me. “You missed me so much you just couldn’t wait to get me?” I asked, not bothering to hide my smile. I was pleased. “Sounds right. Hop in,” he nodded to the empty seat. I jogged around the truck with a pep in my step that was normally missing.  As soon as I was in the car, Jude leaned over and seized the back of my neck, drawing my lips to his. He took his time, kissing me slowly. He didn’t rush things with me and I was appreciative of that. His tongue skated against my lips and my mouth parted for him.  When he broke the kiss we were both panting. He kissed my forehead tenderly before pulling away from my house.  “I missed you,” he admitted. I’d never known three simple words could make you feel so happy. A smile lifted my lips. “I missed you too,” I confessed. The words didn’t weigh me down like I’d feared. I’d spent so long avoiding commitment that it was strange to face it head on. It was funny, Jude and I had both avoided longterm relationships for completely different reasons, and we’d both approached it differently. I avoided everyone, and he went from one girl to the next.  “You did?” He asked, and surprise colored his tone. I nodded. “I had trouble sleeping,” I admitted.  Although, that could’ve been in part because of what happened with my dad and the subsequent hours spent cleaning my room once I destroyed it. I’d like to think my restlessness had more to do with not sleeping with Jude beside me. It made it not seem so bad. He groaned low in his throat. “Keep talking like that and I’ll climb through your window at night like a sixteen year old boy.” I laughed. “I wouldn’t complain.” He groaned again. “You’re killing me. Seriously, you’ll be the death of me, but what a sweet death it’ll be.” “I’m very sweet,” I concurred. “It’s all the ice cream and Twizzlers. I’m full of sugar.” “Tatum,” he said my name low and slow, drawing it out, “did you just make a joke?” He turned stunned brown eyes my way. I shrugged, leaning back against the gray leather seats. “I guess I did.” “Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you,” he scratched his chin. “Hey,” I cried, giving his shoulder a slight push—I was trying to watch myself with the hitting and smacking, even in jest. The last thing I wanted was to turn into my dad. Maybe that wasn’t the kind of thing most girls worried about, but I wasn’t most girls. “I can be funny.” “Anyone can be funny,” he agreed, “but you’re always so serious.” I frowned. He was right. I spent far too much time being a Debbie Downer.  “I’m trying,” I whispered, playing with my fingers instead of looking at his face. My voice was soft, almost scared sounding. “I know,” he reached over, smoothing a finger over my cheek with his eyes still on the road, “and it makes me undeniably happy that you are.” Jude turned down the road that led to the farm and parked his truck. “We’re going to hang out on the farm for a while, but I figured you’d want to see Pap first.” “Of course!” I cried, hopping out of the truck and running towards the door. In the short time I’d known him I’d already begun to think of Jerry as my own grandpa.  We found Jerry sitting in a recliner watching TV. He grinned happily when he saw us. “Andrew! Julia!” My smile fell a bit.  “Hi, Jerry,” I chimed, determined not to let the hurt show. He reached out and clasped my hand, patting it. “It’s been quiet around here without you two. I’ve

missed ya.” “Missed you, Pap,” Jude ruffled the old man’s hair playfully. “Boy,” Jerry scolded, “don’t mess with the hair.” Jude chuckled. “Pap I’m just going to show…Julia…around the farm for a while. We’ll see you later.” “Do you want me to make lunch? Dinner?” Jerry made as if to rise from the chair. “Why don’t you leave that up to us,” Jude suggested. “You do so much for me. Let me take care of you for a change.” “Nonsense,” Jerry waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not like it’s that big of a deal.” Jude sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he’d never win an argument against Jerry. “Alright, Pap. Make whatever you want.” “How about spaghetti with homemade meatballs?” His eyes brightened. “Sounds delicious,” Jude agreed. “We’ll see you later,” he said again, but this time we actually made it out the door. Jude didn’t say anything as we walked towards the big red barn. I could see the worry etched onto his face though. I knew him well enough now to see that. Jude worried immensely about what he’d do once his grandpa was gone. It broke my heart. His grandpa was the only real family he had left. “Hey,” I stopped him just outside the barn, “it’s okay.” He looked down at the ground, kicking his boot against the dirt. “It’s really not,” he swallowed thickly. “It tears me apart when he doesn’t remember who I am. The last person I want him to think I am is my father. That man…” Jude shook his head and trailed off. “Before and after my mom left, I was treated as a play thing. Something shiny and bright to help their image. My mom told me all the time that they never wanted kids, but when she got pregnant they decided to use me to their advantage.” He kicked the ground harder, a cloud of dirt puffing up. “I was a thing to them, not a person. I was only wanted when I was useful and banished when they were through with me. Having Pap call me by my dad’s name…” He glared out towards the meadow beyond. “I hate it, but I can’t say anything. I have to play along. I used to fight him on it, tell him I was Jude, but he would get frustrated and think I was messing with him. I learned early on it was best to pretend I was who he thought I was.” Jude sighed, his dark eyes haunted. “The things we do for the ones we love.” With a shake of his head, he turned and opened the barn doors, effectively dropping the conversation.  I chose not to say anything about what he’d just told me. His rigid stance told me he didn’t want to talk about it. “What are we doing?” I asked, and I could see him visibly relax with the knowledge that I wasn’t going to batter him with questions.   “We, my lovely Tate, are going horseback riding.” He turned and saw my grin. “God I love it when you smile like that. You light up the whole room.” “Smile like what?” I asked, covering my mouth since I suddenly felt bashful. “Like I’ve given you everything you could possibly want,” he whispered, staring at me fiercely. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. I loved that he was a good six inches taller than me. I felt so small and dainty when he held me.  He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me close so that there was no space between us. His nose rubbed against mine. “What are you doing to me?” His voice was almost pained sounding. I laid my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. I had no answer, because I had the same question for him. We stood like that a few minutes longer before breaking apart. “Come on,” he entwined our hands together and led me over to one of the stalls. “This is Seraphina,” he introduced me to the white horse. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?” I shook my head no.  “You can pet her,” he assured me. “She won’t hurt you.” I hesitantly reached out to the large horse. She was absolutely stunning. I wasn’t afraid of her, not at all. I was in awe. I placed my hand against the center of her head, above her nose. She snorted and I giggled in response. She came closer, nuzzling her head against my outstretched palm. “I think she likes you,” Jude grinned widely. “I like her too,” I smiled at the horse. I knew it sounded crazy, but I instantly felt a connection with the creature. Maybe I should’ve been

afraid that I was going to be riding this ginormous horse, but I wasn’t. Not at all. I felt comfortable, peaceful almost. I didn’t feel afraid or like she’d hurt me. “Move back,” Jude told me, and I hated to stop petting the horse. He opened the gate to her stall and guided her out. He grabbed an apple from a nearby bag and tossed it to me. “Feed her this while I get Gimpy.” “Gimpy?” I giggled. “Hey,” he started laughing, “don’t diss the name. I was five and thought it was super cool.” “Why didn’t you name him something like, Michelangelo or Batman?” “Because,” he walked backwards, further into the barn, “Michelangelo is a turtle and Batman, well that one speaks for itself.” “But Gimpy? Seriously, where’d that come from?” I asked, truly curious now. He shrugged, opening a stall a few down from Seraphina’s. “I made it up. I was a weird child.” I let the subject drop before we started talking about messed up childhoods again. I wanted to enjoy our day and not make it an emotion filled mess. After last night, I needed to do something fun. While Jude got Gimpy—I snickered at the name again—I fed Seraphina the apple. Her breath blew against my hand that held the apple. With my free hand I rubbed her gently and whispered how pretty she was. I’d always had a connection with animals, but we’d never been allowed to have pets.  “Seraphina was my grandma’s horse,” Jude explained, walking Gimpy over to where I stood. Gimpy was even larger than Seraphina and while she was all white, he was jet black. The name definitely didn’t suit him, but I guessed he was stuck with it now. Poor horse. “She got her three years before she died…breast cancer,” he shrugged, looking down at his shoes. “It was bad. Took her quickly, so I guess there’s that. She didn’t have to suffer for long.” Brightening, he reached out and rubbed Seraphina’s body. “If she was alive today she’d still be trying to ride this beauty. She was a stubborn woman like that. She reminds me of someone I know now,” he winked at me.  “She sounds wonderful,” I smiled. “I wish I could’ve met her.” “You would’ve loved her,” Jude smiled proudly. “She and Pap…they’re the best people in the world. She would’ve loved you too, you know.” He shook his head and scratched his stubbled jaw as he chuckled under his breath. “She would’ve thought it was hilarious how you don’t take any shit from me. She was feisty.” He reached over and played with a strand of my hair. My heart swelled in my chest. “Sometimes I think Pap got Alzheimer’s just so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of losing her. I’m not saying he got it on purpose, not that that’s even possible,” he stammered, “I just wonder sometimes if God knew I needed Pap to stick around a little while longer, and the man couldn’t do that if he remembered she was gone.” “Crazier things have happened.” I reached up, smoothing my fingers through his brown hair. It was unfair that a guy’s hair was that soft. He even had ridiculously long eyelashes too. He was beautiful, inside and out, and he was mine. I needed to appreciate that fact more and not take it for granted. A part of me was still scared that we’d go back to school tomorrow and this would all be a dream. I was strong enough now to accept that I didn’t want to lose Jude.  “True,” he agreed. He grabbed my hand, placing a long, lingering kiss to the palm before letting it go. He went about fixing both horses for riding and then we led them out into the meadow. He tied Gimpy’s reigns around the fence and reached out for me. Before I knew what he was doing, he had his hands on my waist and lifted me onto the horse. I let out a small squeal of fright. I hadn’t expected that. I swung my leg over the other side of Seraphina and grabbed the reigns. I was scared for only a few seconds before I started to appreciate the beauty of seeing the world around me from the back of a horse. “Wow,” I gasped, “this is amazing.” Jude chuckled and started to lead the horse. “I want you to get used to being on a horse before we try riding. Let me guide you and just…” “Just what?” I gazed down at him, an emotion I didn’t even begin to comprehend filling me when I looked at him. “Just let yourself feel.” I continued to look around at the green grass, the trees, and the flowers blooming. Spring was here and with it came the promise of new things and new beginnings, like Jude and me.  Eventually I closed my eyes, holding on tight to Seraphina, and trusted Jude not to let anything happen to me.

A few minutes later I felt him nudge my arm. I smiled down at him and he handed me the reigns. “It’s time for you to try walking her.” He instructed me on what to do and I listened carefully. “Okay, try now.” Seraphina started forward at a slow pace. It felt weird at first, almost like I might slip off, but I soon found my rhythm and when he saw I had the hang of it he helped me bring her to a trot. “You’re a natural,” he grinned proudly. I was happy that I pleased him.  Seraphina came to a stop and Jude told me to wait while he jogged back to get Gimpy. The horse and rider barreled towards us. “He’s such a show off,” I muttered to Seraphina. She huffed in reply, like she too was disturbed by the display. Coming to a stop beside me, Jude grinned proudly. I tried to pretend that I was completely unaffected by him, but it was futile.  He pushed dark strands of hair from his eyes and then raised up slightly, pulling his trusty beanie from his back pocket. He put it on and grinned boyishly. “That’s better.” Straightening, he said, “You think you’re ready for this?” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be fine. If I fall off I expect you to tend to my wounds.” He began to laugh. “Like you took care of mine? Something tells me you wouldn’t take too kindly to being slapped.”  My cheeks colored. Just when I’d begun to forget that he decided to bring it up again. “Slapping would not be appreciated,” I muttered. He chuckled. My God he loved to torture me. “Lucky for you, I’m a real nurse,” he put a hand to his chest, “and I know what I’m doing. You’re in capable hands.” “I don’t plan on getting hurt,” I assured him. “Hey,” he raised his hands in surrender, “you’re the one that brought it up. You know what heals scrapes and bruises really fast?” “What?” I asked. “Kisses. Particularly my kisses. You’re very lucky in the fact that you’re the only person I would ever suggest this method to. It’s quite radical really. In some countries it’s even illegal,” he said in a hush, like he was letting me in on something top secret. “Oh, really?” I quirked a brow as we started to trot down the path. He nodded. “My kisses save lives.” I snorted, and once I started laughing I couldn’t stop.  I finally regained control of myself and wiped tears of laughter from my eyes. Only Jude could make me laugh that hard and over something so stupid. “You thought that was funny?” He asked. “Hysterical,” I responded, fighting my lips natural urge to quirk up. His face sobered. “I was serious.” “I’m sure you were.” My hands tightened on the reigns as I tried to regain my balance. Riding a horse wasn’t as easy as it looked. It took balance and grace. Balance, I had, grace…not so much. “Do I need to give you a demonstration of the miracles it can perform?” I shook my head. “How about another time? Right now, I’d like to enjoy myself.” “Sure, sure,” he agreed.  We grew quiet and I enjoyed the peace nature brought. The birds chirping. Bugs buzzing. The clopping of the horse’s hooves. It was all so simple, but it centered me. I felt at home here on the farm with Jude and his grandpa. More than that, I felt like I belonged. I turned my face up towards the sun, soaking in the warmth. I was strong enough now to admit to myself that I loved it here and never wanted to leave. I wanted to be a part of Jude Brooks’ life for forever. It scared me to death, but it was the truth that lived in my heart. I’d never believed in love at first sight, and that certainly hadn’t been the case with us, but something had forced us together—not even my stubbornness could overcome us. Destiny? Fate? I didn’t know and I didn’t care. All that mattered was that we’d happened and I was so incredibly thankful for that. I’d fought hard against him and my feelings, but it was a fight I could never win. The

heart wants what it wants, and mine beat for Jude. “There’s a field up ahead,” Jude pointed, interrupting my thoughts, “I thought we could stop there and sit for a while.” “Uh…” I looked around us, feeling stupid. “Aren’t we in a field?” He laughed heartily. “Yes, but this one’s a bit different. You’ll see what I mean.” Sure enough, a few minutes later I did see what he meant. This field was full of flowers like the other one, but there was a huge pond with a dock. It was surrounded by trees on three sides, but cleared from where we approached. The grass was getting high and in need of a mow, but it was beautiful. A dragonfly flew by my shoulder heading for the water. “This is beautiful,” I gasped. “I didn’t know this was here.” “No one does,” he shrugged. “It’s our property and we don’t want word getting out about it. It wouldn’t be fun having to chase people off our property every day. Besides, Pap is too old to deal with that crap.” Jude jumped off Gimpy with ease. I knew there was no way I could dismount Seraphina with such poise. Luckily, I didn’t have to. Jude reached up and helped me down. Once I was off the horse he kept ahold of me, like he didn’t want to let go. He stared into my eyes, resting his forehead against mine. “I wanted to share it with you, though. This is my sanctuary.” He looked away from me and out towards the water. “When the weather’s nice, I spend a lot of time here. It’s…” “Magical,” I supplied. “Not the word I was going for, but it works,” he laughed. His thumb found the belt loop on my jeans and we walked forward to the water’s edge. “The water is a bit too cold still, but soon it’ll be warm enough to swim in. You can even fish.” “Do you normally ride…Gimpy…out here? It seems like it was pretty far from the farm.” “Honestly,” he shrugged, “I usually drive my truck out here. This terrain is nothing a Ford can’t handle,” he winked, pinching my side.  “Poor Gimpy,” I wrinkled my nose in distaste at the name. “He probably hates being locked up all the time.” “You really hate that name,” Jude’s laughter filled the air. God, I loved the sound of it and he laughed a lot. I liked that Jude wasn’t afraid to show his emotions, whatever they may be. “Once again, I was five and I thought it sounded cool. I don’t even know what it’s from.” I reached up and tapped his forehead. “It’s from this strange brain of yours.” He captured my hand and held it. “This strange brain comes up with some pretty amazing ideas.” “Like what?” I asked, smiling. “Hmm,” he thought. “Well, first there was the vodka soaked gummy bears I set out that led to the first night I got to sleep with you in my arms. If that doesn’t have brilliant idea written all over it, I don’t know what does.” “And I also threw them up,” I stated. “That was merely a minor hiccup,” he shrugged, grinning crookedly. “What other brilliant ideas have you had?” I challenged, quirking my head to the side as my lips threatened to turn up in a smile.  He tapped his chin, thinking. “There was the time when I kissed you in the shower…you know, we should really do that again, for research purposes of course.” “Oh yes, of course,” I agreed, but he was already talking again. His voice grew low and gravelly in my ear. “Then there was the night you let me touch you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my hips almost painfully. “God, you felt fucking amazing. You’re amazing.” He nuzzled my neck. My eyes closed as his arms wrapped around me. “I want you in ways I’ve never wanted anyone else,” he whispered so softly I wasn’t even sure I heard him correctly, “it scares the crap out of me, but in the best way possible. You tear me apart and build me back up. You make me better without even trying.” He looked into my eyes, smoothing his large thumbs over my cheeks.  He lowered his head and his lips formed a seal over mine in a soul-stealing kiss. His fingers tangled in my long hair and I grappled for something to hold, settling on the cotton of his shirt. He kissed me for so long that I began to feel lightheaded.  Panting with loss of breath, he ran his index finger over my bottom lip. “With others, kissing was never enough, but with you…everything is different. It’s more important. I could kiss you forever and be a happy man.”

“You sure about that?” Leave it to me to have a sarcastic reply to his deeply romantic words.  “Absolutely,” he rubbed his nose against mine.  “Jude?” I asked. “What are we?” He started to laugh. “What do you mean?” “What are we?” I repeated. “We go back to school tomorrow and I want to know where we stand on our…relationship.” Basically, I wanted to know if I was going to have to watch him fawn over other girls.  He nipped my chin lightly with his teeth, almost as if he was punishing me for my question. “You’re my girlfriend, Tate. Don’t question that.” I let out a weak laugh. “I’m twenty-two years old and you’re my first official boyfriend. I don’t know what that says about me.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear—I couldn’t stand it being in my face. He pressed his forehead against mine. “I’m the same age as you and you’re my first girlfriend. I never cared about official titles until you.” Until you. Those two words were the truth of our relationship. Until Jude I’d never imagined much of a future for myself. Until Jude my heart had been a frozen tundra. Until… Until… Until… I laid my head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. I wanted him to heal all the parts of me that were still broken. I wanted him to make me better. But healing took time, and hopefully we had plenty of it. Eventually we broke apart and lay on the ground. I curled my body against his as his fingers lazily rubbed the skin of my arm. My eyes began to grow heavy from the heat of the sun and the feel of his fingers. Before I could drift off completely he interrupted the silence. “You know,” he started, then almost seemed unsure if he should continue, “we haven’t played our question game in a while.” “Isn’t it kind of pointless?” I asked, sitting up to gaze down at him. He shook his head. “I just have one last very important question.” “Alright,” I shrugged, settling back down. “What is it?” “Did I win the bet?” Of course. I should’ve known that would be his question. I smiled to myself and sat up once more. I kissed him softly, letting my lips linger against his as I spoke. “You won the bet.” He won the bet. He won my heart. He won it all. I was his.

“I HONESTLY DON’T KNOW if I’ll ever get used to this,” Rowan clapped her hands giddily, then pointed to where Jude and I sat across from her at the cafeteria table, “but I’m so incredibly happy you two finally got your shit straightened out.” “Um,” I leaned towards her, propping my elbow on the table and my head in my hand, “If I recall, didn’t you resist Trent for like…years.” Her cheeks colored slightly. “That was different.” She pretended to pick lint off her shirt to avoid my eyes. “Mhmm, sure it was,” I laughed. Beneath the table Jude’s hand found my thigh and gave it a slight squeeze. I’d been getting nasty looks all day from the female population. Even in college, there were still high-school-like antics and the women were pissed that Jude was off the market. I half expected one of them to grab me by my hair and try to throw me around. Jude acted like he didn’t notice, but I knew he did. Even the guys on campus seemed surprised that Jude was holding my hand and we were acting like a…well, like a couple, because that’s what we were. I finished my lunch and pushed the uneaten portion over to Jude. I’d discovered the guy was a bottomless pit. He never seemed to get full. “So,” I smiled at Rowan, “graduation is in a month, and then your wedding is soon after. Are you ready?” She took a deep breath. “I’m ready to be married, but not for the wedding itself. I feel so unprepared, and big parties aren’t my thing anyway. We’re trying to keep it small. But…that isn’t working out so well.” “You have nothing to be worried about,” I assured her. “Everyone that meets you loves you. I wish you could see how amazing you are.” “Yeah,” she groaned, biting into the sandwich she’d brought from home, “maybe one day I’ll view myself differently. I’m working on it.” I was beginning to think we were all always ‘working’ on something to better ourselves. We all had our faults, and most of us were well aware of them, even if we tended to ignore them.  I knew if I was a better friend I’d offer to help her out more with the wedding. But between finals and now a job, it left very little free time, and what time I had I wanted to spend with Jude. I was probably the most selfish person on the planet.  “Hey,” Jude rubbed my neck in a soothing manner, “why do you have that angry look on your face?” “No reason,” I forced a smile. Jude didn’t believe me, of course, but chose to ignore it. “Are you ready for your last week of shadowing me?” He asked. “I’ll try to make it good for you,” he joked with a wink. He knew something had upset me and was trying to make me feel better.  “I’m ready to be done with my paper,” I grumbled. I’d been struggling immensely to get it right. The

day in the library where Jude and I went to get ice cream wasn’t the first time I’d had to walk away from my laptop out of frustration. I needed it to be perfect and my words kept falling flat. “But I’m going to miss watching you work and interact with the patients. You’re quite remarkable.” Jude grinned, then turned to Rowan. “She just likes to look at my ass in my scrubs.” “Do not!” “Your cheeks are getting red, Tate. And I think,” he leaned closer, “…yep, your nose just got a little longer.” My hand shot up to grab my nose, an involuntary reaction. “I’m not Pinocchio.” “Oh, I know you’re definitely not Pinocchio,” he nuzzled my neck, and then peppered light kisses along my chin and jaw. “Ew,” Rowan wrinkled her nose. “You guys are gross.” “You wanted this to happen,” I admonished her. “It’s too late to change your mind now.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “I’m getting what I deserve. The disgusting public displays are worth it to see you guys happy,” she cracked a smile.  “Are you happy with me?” Jude asked, playing with a strand of my hair.  I nodded. “Very happy.” We stared at each other for a moment before Rowan interrupted us. “I don’t know which is worse, the PDA or staring lovingly into each other’s eyes.” I picked up a leftover carrot and tossed it at her. It hit its mark, landing in her hair. She fished it out and dropped it on the table.  “No more complaining,” I laughed at her. She smiled and wadded up her trash. “See you guys later.” She turned on her heel and her hair swished around her shoulders as she headed for the door.  “Well,” Jude continued to play with my hair, “we better get to class.” I nodded with a small smile. “Yeah, class.”  After spending pretty much every moment with him the last week, it was weird to spend so much time apart. But class was necessary, and after this week I’d see him even less.  Oh God. I’d turned into one of those clingy girls that never wanted to part from her boyfriend. Damn. What an about-face from who I’d been before. It was strange—especially after spending so long hating him—but once I saw that Jude wasn’t the cause of all my problems it became impossible not to fall for him.  We tossed our trash in the closest trashcan and then he took my hand. His was warm and steady, clasping my smaller one. Even when he wasn’t trying he made me feel protected.  Instead of going separate ways, he walked me to class. Even in high school I’d never had a boy to walk me to class. It seemed Jude was making up for both of our lost time. On the way we passed the spot where the guy had hit Jude, which led to our first kiss. That was the beginning of the end for me. Although, I thought he probably already had me before then. Jude released my hand when we reached the building my next class was held in. “See you soon.” He lowered his head and lightly brushed his lips against mine. It wasn’t even a real kiss, but my body didn’t seem to know that. My fingers clasped his shirt and I leaned into him, letting out a soft moan. Jude made me crazy in the best possible way. He chuckled and removed my fingers from his shirt. He kissed the tops of both of my hands before releasing them.  “Keep reacting to me like that,” he leaned forward, growling low in my ear, “and I’ll take you right here, right now.” Oh God. A few weeks ago I would’ve slapped him and run away for saying such a thing, but right now…I was tempted to take him up on it. “You’re not protesting, I like that,” he kissed the skin below my ear, “that’s progress.” My blood roared in my ears. “Jude,” I panted his name. “Later,” he said promisingly as he pulled away. Immediately, I missed the warmth of his body.  I watched him walk away, a part of me in disbelief that he was mine. “It’ll never last.” My head whipped toward the sound of the voice and found a gorgeous girl standing beside me. She had glossy, wavy black hair, dark eyes, and golden sun-kissed skin. “He’ll fuck you and leave you just like the rest. It’s what he does. And let’s face it,” she looked me up and down with a sneer on her lips, “when he does settle down it won’t be with someone like you.”

Knowing she’d made her point, she flounced away before I could reply. I was tempted to run after and claw her eyes out, but I reigned in my anger. She was just a jealous bitch and nothing to me.  But that didn’t stop the sting of her words or the pain I felt because of them. Was she right? Would he leave me? I’d avoided relationships for this very reason—I couldn’t bear the thought of having my heart broken —but I was in too deep now to turn tail and run. But she made me wonder, would we get a fairytale ending, driving off into the sunset like those old movies, or were we destined to go up in flames?

“SOMETHING’S BOTHERING YOU,” JUDE commented as we walked to his truck. “Just thinking about my paper.” Lie. I was still obsessing over what that girl told me. I couldn’t seem to get the words to stop playing on repeat inside my head.  “Oh,” Jude shrugged, “stop worrying so much about it. You’ll get it right.” I forced a smile, trying my hardest to make it believable, and said, “I hope you’re right.” I had to play along the best I could. There was no way I was telling him what she told me. Before either of us could say anything else my feet went out from under me and I was down on the ground. Jude surprised me by not laughing. Instead he quickly bent down to make sure I was okay. “Tatum, are you hurt?” He asked, eyeing the knees of my now scuffed jeans. My hands were red and scratched from the concrete but I was otherwise unharmed. “Oops, sorry.” I looked up in time to see the girl from earlier breeze past us, laughing with her friends. “I didn’t see you there.” Jude helped me up and didn’t release his hold on me. “Brooke,” Jude called after her. His chest heaved violently with barely contained anger. “Apologize.” Brooke paused, her glossy hair bouncing around her shoulders. “Why don’t you call me when you’re done playing house and then I’ll apologize? All. Night. Long.” The meaning in her words was clear.  Jude’s hold on my hands tightened as he tried to restrain himself from going after her. With a satisfied smirk she flounced away with her friends. Jude finally released me and I rubbed my hands on my jeans to displace the gravel clinging to the palms.  “I’ve never wanted to hit a woman until now,” Jude growled, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “She had no right to talk to you like that.” Intense brown eyes met mine. I dipped my head and muttered, “It’s fine.” “No,” he lifted my chin, “it’s most definitely not fine.” I shook my head. “This was bound happen,” I sighed. “People aren’t pleased to see the campus playboy settle down. I expected it.” Not to this degree, but he didn’t need to know about that. Two confrontations with Brooke—at least I knew her name now—sounded a bit fishy to me. Was she really that desperate that she was purposely seeking me out? Were people that pathetic?  “Here, let me see your hands.” I reluctantly held out my hands for him to inspect.  “Good, nothing’s cut. Just a few scrapes. They’ll be tender though.” He met my eyes once more. “God, Tate, I’m so sorry.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault.” “Yeah, it was.” I suppose, in a way, he was responsible, but I didn’t see it that way. “She’s just jealous,” I replied. “It’s not a big deal.” I tried my best to play it off. I didn’t want him to see how much it affected me.  Jude put a guiding hand against my waist and we started towards his truck. He hadn’t changed into his scrubs yet. I wouldn’t tell him, but he was right, I loved the way he wore those scrubs.  He opened the passenger door for me and I climbed inside. He was quiet as we pulled out into traffic, but then he said, “We have time to stop and eat.” I shrugged. I didn’t feel hungry.  “If I recall correctly, I owe you a McFlurry,” he chuckled, reaching over to squeeze my knee. He was

trying so hard to make me feel better. “Only because I threw it at you.” “Logistics,” he shrugged, pulling into the McDonald’s Drive-Thru line. He ordered our food and parked the truck. I figured we were eating in the truck, but he hopped out, grabbing a blanket that he kept behind his seat. I followed him to the back of the truck where he pulled down the tailgate. I saw what he was trying to do and took the blanket from him before he dropped our food. I folded it so it was thicker and then spread it out so we could both sit. So far our April weather had been surprisingly warm. It was a nice change from cold, snowy, windy days.  Jude handed me the bag and I dished out our food. Two McFlurries sat between us. Hopefully there would be no more McFlurry throwing—although, that would make an interesting sport. I could see it on the Olympics now. “This is nice,” Jude said around a mouthful of cheeseburger. I nodded in agreement, dipping a fry in ketchup.   “Although,” he continued, “this does not count as our real date.” “Huh?” I quirked a brow, eating another fry. “You said I won the bet, which means we get to go on a date. This,” he pointed to the greasy fast food we ate, “is not a proper date.” “It isn’t?” I asked. “What do you propose we do then?” “Not sure yet,” he shrugged, his face growing serious, “I’ve got to think of something good.” He took a bite of his burger, staring out at the parking lot. “Are you free Saturday or Sunday?” “I’m not doing anything.” Except staring at my computer trying to write this paper. I should’ve had it halfway done by now, and this week of shadowing should have been unnecessary, but I only had two paragraphs written and knowing me I’d delete them the next time I opened my word document. “Perfect,” he grinned, bouncing with excitement like a little boy.  We finished eating, and moved on to the McFlurries.  “I have to say,” Jude started, “this tastes much better going into my mouth, than on my clothes. Do you have any idea how long it took me to lick those stains out of my scrubs?” He didn’t give me a chance to reply. “In fact, they didn’t come out at all. You, Tater Tot, owe me a new pair of scrubs. Should I tell you my size or do you have an idea? I mean, with as much as you stare at me you should know by—” “Oh, shut up,” I laughed, tempted to flick ice cream in his hair just for the heck of it.  “Alright,” he smiled, “I’ll be quiet, but only because you have this look in your eyes that spells trouble.” He licked ice cream from his top lip. “You know, you kind of remind me of a kitten. You look all cute and innocent, but you have claws.” I lightly scratched his arm. “And don’t forget it.” “Ms. O’Connor did you just scratch me?” He pretended to be shocked. “It’s like you’re staking a claim to tell all others to back off.” “Maybe I am,” I smiled innocently. “That’s so hot.” He leaned closer and pressed his forehead against mine. “But you don’t need to stake a claim, baby. I’m yours.” Why did those words fill me with such relief? I leaned my head on his shoulder, sucking the last remnants of Oreo McFlurry from the spoon. No one had ever made me feel as content as Jude did. He made me feel calm but I wasn’t afraid to let my fiery side out. With him, I could just be…me. Jude finished his McFlurry and took the empty cup from my hands. “We’ve got to go or we’ll be late. Go ahead and get in the truck, I’m going to change in the bathroom here.” I nodded as we both hopped off the tailgate. I grabbed the blanket and folded it as he threw away the trash and grabbed his bag from the truck. I got in the truck and kicked off my flats, drawing my feet up to rest on the dash.  It didn’t take Jude long to return. He tossed the bag behind his seat and we headed towards the nursing home.  By now everyone at the nursing home—workers and patients alike—were aware of who I was and didn’t wonder why I was there. Jude grabbed the chart from the receptionist and we headed through the building.

“Hey, Mr. Jenkins,” Jude chimed, walking into the room. I’d been shadowing him long enough to know that Mr. Jenkins was his favorite patient, although Jude took the time to know bits and pieces about each of the people he worked with.  “Jude,” Mr. Jenkins grinned. “I was beginning to think you were never coming back.” “And not tell you?” Jude tsk’d. “Never.” Jude began checking over the man’s vitals and asking him questions pertaining to that. I leaned against the wall with my trusty notebook and pen in hand.  Mr. Jenkins eyes found me. “You his girlfriend yet?” Before I could reply, the man looked to Jude. “You need to make that girl yours.” Jude chuckled, his dark hair brushing against his forehead. He looked to me, his eyes sparkling and something stirred in my stomach. “Don’t worry, Mr. Jenkins. She’s mine.” “Good,” the man seemed to ease, “I better be invited to the wedding.” Jude and I both laughed at that. Jude turned to me. “Is tomorrow too soon for a wedding?” “Probably,” I shrugged. “And Vegas is a bit too far away.” “Well darn,” he hung his head as if he was truly upset with this fact. “Looks like we’re not getting married anytime soon Mr. Jenkins,” Jude sighed. “I guess you better keep kicking so you can be there.” “Don’t worry boy,” Mr. Jenkins stifled a cough, “if the war couldn’t take me, this cold ain’t either.” Jude chuckled. “That’s the right mindset to have.” Turning to me, he said, “Mr. Jenkins fought in WWII.” “You did?” I asked, my interest piquing. I’d always been a closet history dork, even attending the local Civil War reenactments once a year. History Channel was my best friend when I was home alone. The man nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I was a fighter pilot.” “That’s amazing,” I gasped. I completely forgot about Jude being there and sat down in one of the empty chairs. I proceeded to ask Mr. Jenkins any and all questions I could think of. I completely forgot about this being Jude’s job. I was far too interested in learning facts straight from the source. Eventually though Jude had to pull me away. “I hope I get to see you again,” I told Mr. Jenkins, waving from the doorway. Jude’s rotation was almost always different, but he tended to see each patient at least twice a week. “You take care now, sweetheart,” Mr. Jenkins voice carried to me as the door closed. Jude dragged me down the hall, opened a door, and pushed me inside. It was a storage closet. Lovely. He was probably pissed at me for taking so long to talk to Mr. Jenkins. Frankly I couldn’t blame him, but— My thoughts were cut off when his mouth covered mine. My back bumped into one of the shelves, knocking cleaning supplies to the ground with a crash. Jude didn’t seem to mind, or to care about the attention it may draw. He grasped my thighs, forcing my legs around his waist. “You’re so fucking hot,” he breathed between kisses. “What’d I do?” I panted, my lips fighting to keep up with his. “It’s just you,” he nipped my bottom lip, “you’re amazing.” I was still lost as to what had prompted this kiss-a-thon but I decided not to think too much about it and enjoy myself instead.  “Fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking against mine, his hard length blatantly obvious, “I want you so bad. Only you. Only ever you.” We panted and clawed at each other like wild animals. It was like we couldn’t get close enough. I kissed him deeply, pushing forward and taking control. My fingers yanked at his hair and he growled low in his throat. God I loved that sound. He let me go and my feet connected with the floor. Then I was pushing him back and this time his back hit one of the shelves.  I’d never been so out of control and uncontained before.  His hands came up to cup my cheeks and he slowed the kiss to more gentle levels. I still knew my lips would be tender and swollen later, but it was worth it and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Somehow my hands had found their way under his scrub shirt and his smooth skin was scorching against my palms.  I couldn’t find it in me to be embarrassed though. I looked up at him, refusing to let any nervousness show. “I want you,” I gasped, still out of breath

from our kiss. “All of you,” I added in case he didn’t catch my meaning. He kissed me soundly and then took a step back so there was plenty of space between us. “Soon.” His tone made me squirm and the sparkle in his eyes promised delightful naughtiness.  We took a moment to straighten our clothes before he opened the closet door and poked his head out. “Coast is clear.” He took my hand and helped me out of the closet—which was now a mess thanks to our escapade. “You really need to tell me exactly what that was about,” I pried my hand from his. The last thing I wanted to do was get him in trouble here, but I guessed it was too late for that, what with making out in a closet. He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “It was so hot how excited you got talking to Mr. Jenkins. How could I not get turned on by that?” “You’re something else,” I muttered. “I’m pretty sure you get turned on by everything.” I stifled a laugh. He chuckled, a grin turning up his lips. “I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation. Come on, this way,” he grabbed my arm, pulling me down another hallway. Gone was the fun and now it was time for him to work again.

HE FINISHED OUT HIS volunteer hours and we headed back to campus. I hated to leave him and return to my shitty home life. I really had to get out of there. I was so done with all of it. “Hey,” he said before I got out of the truck. “Yeah?” I perked up, hoping that maybe he’d decided to make a late night visit to his grandpa’s and wanted me to join.  “The guys and I are throwing a party this Friday…well it’s them, not me, that’s having the party,” he shrugged, “but they want me to be there. So I was hoping you’d consider coming.” “You know parties really aren’t my thing.” My excitement from a minute ago faded.  “Come on, Tate,” he grinned, “I can’t fend off the she-beasts by myself.” That was all he needed to say to change my mind. “I’ll be there.” He laughed heartily. “I love it when you’re jealous. Your face gets all red and your nose crinkles.” “How would you feel about guys flirting with me?” I countered. “I doubt you’d like it very much.” His brows scrunched together and he glared out the window. “You’re right, I wouldn’t. I’d probably punch them in the face.” I patted his shoulder. “There’s no need to go all caveman possessive on me now. You know I can handle myself.” He chuckled at that, his face softening. “Yeah, you’re right. You can certainly take care of it on your own.” “I’m glad you have faith in me.” Staring out the window at the dark sky and few stars, I let out a breath. “I better get home.” “Yeah,” he agreed, leaning over to give me a quick kiss. “See you tomorrow.” “Bye,” I smiled, slipping out of the truck. Almost instantly I missed his presence.  I got in my car and gave him a quick wave before backing away and heading home, to the place that had become my prison.

MY DAD WASN’T THERE when I arrived. I was silently thankful for that.  I forced my mom to eat some dinner and helped her to bed. I once again found myself wanting to yell and scream at her to get her shit together, but I knew it would do no good. I’d long ago given up hope that she’d snap out of this. After I’d gotten her in bed, I’d showered and worked on my paper for a while. I’d managed to get a good bit done and was quite happy with it. I’d changed the direction of it and I hoped Professor Taylor didn’t mind. Instead of focusing on the struggles of being a student in the medical field, I’d chosen to write about the relationships healthcare providers formed with their long-term patients and

with each other. How everyone banded together and became a…well, family.  With this new direction I was positive this paper would be the best thing I’d ever written.  Now though, I was trying to go to sleep. Tap. Tap. Tap. Something smacked against my window. I sat up and looked around my room as if the answer to the mysterious noise resided there.  Tap. Tap. Tap. Eventually I forced my tired body out of bed and went to the window. I looked down and saw Jude standing in the yard. When he saw me, he grinned and pointed to himself and then the window. He wanted to come up.  I nodded and then pointed my finger down to let him know I’d come downstairs to let him inside. By the time I opened the front door he already waited there.  “What are you doing here?” I gasped, still surprised to see him.  “I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged. “I didn’t have my teddy bear, and by teddy bear I mean you of course.” I smiled at that and let him inside. He looked around, but not like he was taking in the place. “You know you don’t need to worry about my mom,” I sighed heavily, “and my dad isn’t home.” I closed and locked the door. He grinned. “So, I don’t have to worry about being shot by Papa Bear?” “No,” I laughed. “Come on,” I nodded towards the stairs. “I’m sleepy.” He followed behind me and into my room. I closed and locked the door behind us just in case my dad did come home and decided to check on me. The chances were slim but I still wanted to be prepared. I turned to find Jude grinning at me and then nodding at the closed door. I rolled my eyes. “It’s not for that. I wanted to be prepared in case my dad comes home.” His shoulders sagged. “Bummer. Things were just getting exciting in my head.” “I’m sure they were,” I laughed, climbing in bed once more.  Jude kicked off his shoes and removed his jeans. He hooked his thumbs into the back of his shirt and took that off as well so he was left only in his boxers. My heart sped up at the sight.  He climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around me, cuddling me like, well…like a teddy bear. I closed my eyes, wiggling around to get comfortable. “Woman, if you keep doing that we’re going to have a problem on our hands,” he tickled my side. I laughed as his fingers rubbed a ticklish spot. “Stop tickling me.” “You know,” his fingers skated up my sleep shirt, “I really love the fact that you only sleep in a shirt and panties. It’s fucking hot.” “Jude,” I groaned, fighting a smile, “go to sleep.” He ignored my words. “This isn’t how I pictured your room,” he stated. I opened my eyes, taking in the pink walls and girly décor. I hadn’t redecorated it since I was fourteen.  “What did you picture then?” “Hmm,” he thought, “a torture chamber with chains and whips.” I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh. “A torture chamber? Really, Jude?” I rolled over to face him, cradling my hands under my head. He shrugged. “You did kick me in the balls once and you slapped me when we kissed. Then there was the time—” I cut off anything further that he might say by putting my hand over his mouth. He retaliated by licking my hand. “Ew,” I wiped my hand on the sheets, “you’re like a dog.” “Doggie style is one of my favorite positions,” he stated flatly.  I rolled my eyes. “Go to sleep. I’m tired and now you’re keeping me awake.” He chuckled. “Aw, don’t get sassy on me now, Tater Tot. You know you love my wickedly inappropriate sense of humor. It keeps life interesting,” he winked.

He was right about that. I snuggled against him instead of replying. He smoothed his fingers through my hair and hummed a song under his breath. It sounded faintly like a lullaby. In no time I was asleep.

WHEN I WOKE UP I was more rested than I had been in days.  Jude was gone and in his place was a note. Heard your dad come in last night. I wish I could’ve seen your beautiful face when you woke up.  -Jude P.S. Look on the nightstand Immediately I rolled over and started grinning like a fool. Sitting in a vase was not a single Twizzler like last time. Instead it was a whole ‘bouquet’ of them, and they were even tied together to look like flowers. Only Jude.  The gesture warmed my heart and I knew nothing would dampen my good mood today.

THE WEEK PASSED QUICKER than I would’ve liked and I started crying when we drove away from the nursing home. Jude squirmed in his seat. “Uh…Tate…are you okay?” The poor guy didn’t know what to do with my sudden emotional outburst. I couldn’t blame him. Even I hadn’t anticipated this reaction. “I’m sorry,” I sniffled. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.” I wiped at my damp face, trying to get rid of the tears. He reached for my hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m just going to miss everyone so m-much,” I sobbed. “Especially Mr. Jenkins.” “Aw, Tate,” he squeezed my hand again, a little harder this time, “you don’t need to be upset about it. You can always come visit. They allow volunteers to come in and spend time with the patients.” “I would like that.” I rubbed my face again, wiping away black streaks of mascara.  “Good,” he said. By the time we got to Rowan’s I’d managed to compose myself.  Trent and Row were coming to tonight’s party too, and Rowan had insisted we get ready together “I’ll see you later,” Jude leaned over kissing my cheek. I loved all his kisses, but there was something so sweet about when he kissed my cheek. It was such an innocent gesture, but it made me feel special because I was sure he’d never treated one of his conquests with such tender care. I didn’t bother saying goodbye as I slipped from the truck since I’d be seeing him so soon.  Jude waited by the curb in his truck to make sure I got inside okay. Before I could open the door Tristan came running out, screaming, “Jude! Jude!” I looked behind me and upon seeing the little boy running for him Jude had gotten out of his truck. He let Tristan tackle him to the ground and they rolled around playfully.  The door opened and Rowan poked her head out. “Tristan! Leave Jude alone! He has to go home!” The boys stopped rolling around and I noticed a few strands of grass stuck in Jude’s hair.  “I can stay for a few minutes,” Jude told her. Then to Tristan he said, “I have to go home and shower, but we can play for a little while.” “Yay!” Tristan cried, throwing his arms around Jude. “You’re the best! Wait till you see the remote control dinosaur daddy got me. It’s so cool.” Tristan clapped his hands together excitedly and climbed off Jude’s lap. He ran for the door, barreling by me and inside. “Come on, Jude!” Jude chuckled, smiling as he headed past me after the boy. Tristan led Jude upstairs to his bedroom, clasping Jude’s large hand in his much smaller one. I had to admit, it was absolutely adorable watching them interact together.  Rowan closed and locked the door, shaking her head. “Boys,” she muttered, as if that was the answer to everything. Maybe it was. 

We headed upstairs to the bedroom she shared with Trent. When we passed Tristan’s room we could hear them both making dinosaur noises. I happened to look inside and burst out laughing when I saw Jude impersonating a velociraptor. Day made. Inside Rowan’s room she dragged me to the bathroom and set about doing my hair. She curled my hair and braided the pieces that normally framed my face. She then took bobby pins and secured the braided pieces. I’d been nervous about letting her do my hair and makeup but so far she was doing a stellar job. She kept my makeup light and shimmery. When I looked in the mirror my skin appeared to glow.  “Dress time,” she took my hand, leading me to her closet. She searched through the racks for something suitable for me to wear. “Hmm,” she tapped a finger against her lips, thinking. She pulled one out and held it up for my inspection. I shook my head no. “What about this one?” She asked, grabbing another. It was a pretty pale yellow color, simple in cut but it would expose the barest peek of my breasts. She turned so I saw the back. My mouth fell open. The back was completely exposed except for a tiny strip of fabric at the top that connected the straps. The length was daringly short. “Uh…” I paused, searching for what to say. “I think that’s so short my vagina would show.” Rowan laughed, shaking her head at me. She thrust the dress against my chest and I was forced to grab it. “At least try it on. The color would be so pretty with your hair and tan.” I sighed. There was no point arguing with Row. She always got her way. I went back into the bathroom and closed the door, slipping into the dress. It was a little longer than I thought, but if I happened to bend over everyone would get a flash of my panties. That sounded like a great way to get everyone’s attention and be the talk of the town.  I opened the door to show Rowan.  “Ooh! That looks so pretty!” She jumped up and down excitedly. “You have to wear it.” “Rowan,” I groaned, tugging on the hem as if by sheer willpower alone I could make it longer. It wasn’t working. “It’s too short.” “No, it’s not,” she assured me.  I groaned. There was no way she was going to let me out of the dress now.  “Fine, I’ll wear it,” I agreed, “but if anyone that’s not Jude sees my vagina then you better sleep with your eyes open.” She laughed so hard her face turned red. I wasn’t trying to be funny. I was dead serious. “Oh, Tate, you’re something else.” “Mhmm, you tell me that when I’m in jail and you’re missing an eye.” She started laughing again.  “I notice your dress isn’t this short.” I pointed to the pale pink dress she’d changed into. The top hugged her chest and flared out at the hips, stopping above the knees. “I’m a mother,” she answered simply. I shook my head.  “Let me freshen my makeup and then we can go.” “Lily’s already here?” I asked, referring to Trent’s mom. Rowan nodded. “Yeah, and Jude left.” My face fell, but I knew I’d see him soon. Besides, I knew he wanted to get home to shower and change before the party started. However, a part of me had hoped he might wait for me to get ready so we could leave together.  Rowan swiped mascara onto her lashes and a pink gloss on her lips. Fluffing her naturally straight hair she said, “Ready.” We headed downstairs where she said goodbye to Tristan and Ivy. Trent stood in the family room playing with his beloved ferret.  Rowan hugged Lily and thanked her for watching the kids.  It was amazing how easily Rowan had become a part of Trent’s family. It had been a struggle on her end, but she’d finally allowed herself to embrace them completely. I knew she was particularly close with Trent’s older brother, Trace, who’d helped her through a rocky situation when things had gone to shit between her and Trent. Trenton put Bartholomew, the ferret, back in his cage and washed his hands. Running his fingers through his black hair he kissed Ivy on the cheek and hugged his son and mom. “Love you guys,” he told them. Then he turned his gaze to Rowan. The love between them…it never ceased to amaze me.

They were perfect for each other.  We took Trent’s Dodge Challenger again and like last time had to park a block away—and I was wearing heels. Great. We entered the townhouse and my eyes immediately started searching for the only guy I wanted to see. I also steered clear of the bowl of gummy bears. I wasn’t going to have an episode like last time. I separated myself from Trent and Row, moving through the dancing bodies as I searched for Jude. I squeaked in surprise when a hand grabbed my wrist. I was pushed against the wall before a large body blocked me in. I smiled, thinking it was Jude. But the guy staring back at me wasn’t Jude. Oh no, because I had the best luck in the whole world I was staring at Tyler, the doucheknozzle I gave my virginity to. He was nothing but a jerk and piece of scum. My heart sped up—not from fear, but from anger. Tyler was the last person on the planet I ever wanted to see again.  “Let me go,” I squirmed against his hold but he was too strong. “Nice to see you too, Tatum.” He grinned, flicking his blond hair out of his eyes.  “There’s nothing nice about seeing you,” I spat venomously. I knew when he looked at me he could see the hate shimmering in my eyes. I’d never loved Tyler and our relationship had been based solely on sex—and it wasn’t even like we’d done it that much—but it had ended on a sour note when I caught him having sex with another girl in his car. In retaliation I’d taken a crowbar to his prized possession, a Chevrolet Camaro, and left a huge dent in the side. He could never prove it was me, but he knew anyway. “Still got the same fiery personality, I see.” He smirked, lowering his head as if to kiss me. I clawed at his chest, trying to get enough space between us that I could get away.  “Go away, Tyler,” I growled. “I don’t have time for your bullshit.” I wondered why he was even back here. I thought he was away at one of the fancy state schools. “Why don’t we finish what we started so many years ago,” he sucked on my neck. Oh, he was so getting kneed in the balls the minute I could get in proper position. I decided to give him a warning though. “If you’d like to have children one day, I suggest you let me go right now.” He didn’t listen. I pretended to be giving into his touch so he’d relax his stance. He believed it. Idiot. When he least suspected it, I brought my leg up and leveled my knee with his groin. And down he went, howling like a wounded animal. I crouched down and tilted my head, glaring at him. “If you ever put your hands on me again I will press charges Tyler. I mean it.” He was too busy rolling around on the ground, clutching the family jewels, to pay attention to anything I said.  By now people were staring and I really didn’t care. I straightened the dress I wore and when I looked up my eyes connected with furious brown ones. I froze in fear, unsure if he was pissed at me, or the crying mess on the ground. Even in my frazzled state I couldn’t stop my eyes from perusing him. He wore a pair of tan pants with a simple white v-neck t-shirt that clung to his muscular chest and arms like a second skin. His dark hair was still damp from the shower and I itched to run my fingers through it. He might’ve been pissed off, but he was still the most beautiful man I’d ever laid my eyes on. Jude marched up to me and positioned my body behind his. I peeked around his shoulder to see him glare at Tyler.  “Don’t you ever fucking touch my girlfriend ever again, Tyler. So help me God I will put you down like a dog.” Tyler didn’t have the common sense to be afraid. Instead, around gasping breaths he grinned and said, “Fucking my sloppy seconds now, Jude? Interesting. She’s a great lay, isn’t she?” I reached out, grabbing his arm and dug my nails into Jude’s flesh in an effort to hold him back. It was futile. He dropped to the ground and punched Tyler in the face. Tyler seemed to recover from his ball smashing and started to fight back. Oh, shit.

“Jude!” I screamed. People around us screamed, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” What was this? High school? Honestly. You’d think college kids would have enough maturity to stop this ridiculous display, but noooooo. “Jude!” I kept yelling his name in the hope that my voice alone would break through to him. He punched Tyler in the face and stomach, over and over again. Tyler got in a few punches too. They rolled around on the floor like wild animals.  I knew better than to try to break them apart. I’d only end up hurt in a scuffle like this.  “Jude! Stop it! He’s not worth it!” Either he couldn’t hear me or he didn’t care. I wasn’t sure which. I tore at my hair, groaning. What the hell was I supposed to do? I finally looked up and saw Trent and Row breaking through the crowd. “Oh thank God,” I sighed in relief. “Trent!” I called and his eyes connected with mine from across the hallway. “Can you stop them?!” No one else was going to do anything. Trent was my only hope. He pushed to the front of the crowd gathered watching the two men fight. He reached down and got ahold of Jude’s shoulder. Before he could yank him away Jude got another good punch in. Trent wrapped his arms around Jude, pulling him away from the writhing form on the ground. Jude was like a wild animal, clawing at Trent in an effort to get away. “Calm down, man.” I heard Trent tell Jude. Jude breathed heavily, nostrils flaring. I’d never seen Jude lose his cool, ever, and he’d completely lost it now and over me of all things. Tyler clutched his nose, rolling around. “Vuck! Vou vroke vy vose,” Tyler said in a garbled voice. “You’re lucky I didn’t break everything!” Jude yelled, pointing at Tyler. “Get the fuck out of my house and if you ever set foot in here again, so help me God I will rip you to shreds!” Someone, one of Tyler’s friends I assumed, came out of the crowd and picked him up, dragging him away.  When Trenton was sure Jude wasn’t about to go after Tyler he released his hold on him. Jude still breathed heavily and a bruise was forming on his cheek. Once everyone saw that the show was over the party returned to normal. “Tate?” Jude turned to me and his eyes were full of worry. He was afraid I was mad, and I was to an extent.  “Thank you,” I told Trent before grabbing Jude’s hand. Jude said nothing as I dragged him upstairs and to his room. Just like last time he unlocked the door, and then made sure to lock it behind us so no one could get in.  This time I felt giddy at the prospect of being alone in Jude’s room.  I turned on a light and frowned at the bruise forming beneath his eye.  I went into the bathroom and he followed behind me, not saying a word.  I grabbed a washcloth and wet it with cold water since I didn’t have access to an icepack.  Jude sat down on the closed toilet lid and I gently pressed the cold cloth to his eye.  “Are you mad?” He finally asked. I twisted my lips, shrugging. “A little.” “A little is better than a lot.” He reached up, putting his hand overtop the one I used to hold the cloth. “I had it under control,” I whispered, eyes lowering. For some reason my heart rate picked up at our closeness and the thought of the bed only a few feet away. My body craved his touch. It was like I was starved for him. “I know you did,” Jude agreed, “but then when he said that stuff about you I…I lost it. Obviously.” His shoulders sagged. “I don’t need you to defend me,” I breathed. I ran the fingers of my free hand lightly over the side of his face that was uninjured. His eyes closed and a content sigh escaped his lips. “I know,” he agreed once more. He grew quiet and his eyes were angry and dark when he looked at me. “Was what he said true? Did you sleep with him?” I flinched and that was all the answer he needed, but I still replied. “Yes.” He let out a growl. “I hate him.” “Me too.” “He’s a jerk, Tate. Why would you be with someone like him?” He asked, his eyes pleading with me to

explain.  I sighed, shaking my head. “I was young and stupid. I wanted to feel cared for. I just picked the wrong guy.” “What happened with you guys?” I narrowed my eyes. “Is this something you really want to know?” He nodded. I took a deep breath. “We only had sex a few times, and that’s all it ever was. I will admit to being stupid and hoping for more. It ended when I caught him in his car with another girl.” Jude’s mouth fell open. “Are you the one that fucked up his car? You are, aren’t you?” I nodded. “Yeah, that was me.”  I removed the cloth, dampened it with cold water once more and put it back to his eye. Jude started to laugh. “God, he complained about that for months. Everyone at school knew about it.” “He shouldn’t have messed with me.” I shrugged. Smiling, I said, “Pretty girls can be dangerous.” His voice grew low when he replied. “Oh, yes, they definitely can.” His hands found my hips, running up my sides and back down to my ass.  “Jude,” I said warningly. “Tate.” The lust in his eyes nearly knocked me down. I knew he saw it reflected in my eyes too. I was trying not to act on it, what with him being hurt. He startled me into dropping the cloth when he shot up into a standing position.  “Tate,” he grabbed my cheeks in his hands, kissing my slowly, “I need you,” he breathed when he pulled away. His eyes were hooded and want shimmered there. I shivered from the intensity of his look.  My blood roared in my ears. I felt lightheaded and everything around me became sharper, clearer.  I nodded and it was all the answer he needed. His lips crashed against mine. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and then his tongue played against mine. I’d never known a kiss could make you go weak in the knees, but this one certainly did. He backed me out of the bathroom and my legs hit the edge of his bed. I sunk down onto the mattress and he came with me.  I grabbed at his shirt and he yanked it off.  I was glad to have it out of my way. My hands skated along his chest. His skin was so smooth and warm. His abs were hard against my hands and I found my fingers tracing the indent of them. Our breaths filled the air and I could focus on nothing else but him. I completely forgot about the party raging around us. All that mattered was this. Him. “Dress. Off.” He growled. Before I could remove it, he did it for me, tossing it off the bed and out of his way. He cupped my breasts in his large hands through the material of my bra. His eyes were heated and I bit my lip nervously as he stared at my body. I’d never been scrutinized quite like this before. I should’ve hated it, but with Jude I couldn’t help but love it. I felt beautiful beneath his gaze.  “God, Tate. I’ve never wanted someone like I want you. What have you done to me?” He groaned and like he was a magician my bra and panties disappeared. He didn’t wait for me to reply. He wasn’t expecting an answer. His eyes raked over my body and I started to feel shy, wondering if I measured up to the other girls he’d been with. “You’re perfect, Tate,” he said, like he knew what I’d been thinking.  His hands roamed over my body going lower and lower. He parted my thighs and his fingers found me. He let out a hiss. “You’re so wet for me. Do you know how fucking hot that is?” His eyes found mine as he slipped a finger inside me. I gasped, not expecting it, and clawed at the bedcovers. “I want to taste you,” he breathed. A moment later his mouth was on me and I gasped again, even louder this time. “Jude,” I panted his name, my hands flailing. I didn’t know what to do or what to hold on to. I was

pretty sure I was about to float away. His hands pushed against my stomach, holding me immobile. The sensations he created in my body caused sparks to glitter behind my closed lids. My hips were desperate to move as pressure built in my body.  I could feel the pleasure in my body building to dangerous, soul-shattering levels.  He hummed low in his throat as his tongue lapped against me.  My limited sexual experience had never included this. I’d never believed it could feel this good. But oh my god. He sucked harder and I came undone, screaming his name. Or at least I thought it was his name. My mind seemed to have turned to mush. I gulped down air, unable to get enough oxygen to my lungs. Jude kissed his way up my stomach, over my breasts, before taking my lips with his. My fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to me. There was so much I needed to say to him that I just couldn’t, so I showed him with that kiss. His body shook and he seemed to understand. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked, kissing the area where my neck met my shoulder.  “Yes,” I gasped desperately. There was no way I wanted him to stop now. Was he crazy?  “Thank God,” he kissed me again, sucking on my bottom lip. He undid his belt and kicked off his jeans and boxers. My eyes roamed over his chest before looking lower. I swallowed thickly. Yeah, I was totally staring at him like a creeper, but I couldn’t help myself. He was beautiful everywhere. I reached out and ran my hand up and down his length. His hips bucked as his eyes closed.  A moment later he took my hands, pining both above my head. Before I could be hurt by his actions, his hooded eyes met mine. “Later,” he promised. “But right now I need to be inside you.” He reached over to his nightstand to grab a condom. I put a hand on his arm to stop him. “We don’t need one of those,” I told him. His brows furrowed. “Unless you want little Jude Jr. in nine months, then yes we do,” he kissed the end of my nose. I shook my head. “I’m on birth control. It’s fine.” A shiver passed over his body. “Are you sure?” He asked and there was a look of awe in his eyes. “I’ve never had sex without one before.” “I’m sure,” I nodded. His body shook and he kissed me. He took his time too, memorizing the feel of my lips and tongue. Then, when he knew I was relaxed he slid inside me the tiniest bit. I gasped from the intrusion, fighting to get away. He grabbed my hips and looked into my eyes. “It’s okay,” he assured me. “We take this slow.” I nodded, swallowing thickly. He slid inside a little further and I winced. He was too big. This was never going to work. I was pretty sure I was about to be split in half. For some reason this seemed worse than when I’d lost my virginity. “Tate,” he gasped, like it pained him to speak. “Look at me.” I did.  “Just look at me,” he repeated. “It’s going to be okay.” I nodded, waiting for him to push in even further. He did, but instead of a little bit it was all the way. He silenced my cry with a kiss and I clawed at his back. “I won’t move until you’re ready.” He peppered sweet kisses to my jaw. When I had adjusted to the feel of him, I nodded, letting him know he was okay to move. He slid out slowly and back in. It hurt at first as he stretched me. My body wasn’t used to such activities. It didn’t take long for the pain to go away and pleasure like I’d never felt before replaced it.  Sex with Tyler had been dirty. I’d been a girl trying to escape. With Jude…it was magic. The look in his eyes spoke of such love that I almost wept. This was why you were supposed to wait to have sex with someone you cared about. The difference was astounding.  His movements were slow and steady and once I got the rhythm of it my hips joined his in a sensual dance. He held his weight off of me, but his chest was still pressed against mine. I loved feeling him skin to skin. I felt like I could sink inside him and get lost forever.

Everything about our coupling was slow and sweet. It was nothing like I expected. It was better. Perfect, even.  I came again, crying his name as I clung to his damp shoulders. Tears stung my eyes from the overwhelming sweetness of it all.  A moment later Jude gasped my name over and over again in my ear as he found his release. He rolled off me and onto his side. He pulled my damp body against his and wrapped his arms around me. His lips found the bare skin of my neck and placed a soft kiss there.  “That was amazing,” he breathed, his breath tickling my skin. “Amazing,” I agreed. My eyes drifted closed and I fell asleep with a smile on my face. With the arms of the one I loved wrapped around me. Life didn’t get better than this.

WHEN I CRACKED MY eyes open I couldn’t help smiling at the sight of Jude snuggled against me. At some point in the night we’d grown cold and ended up getting under the covers. He slept peacefully beside me, his breath even as it fanned over my face. I reached out, unable to stop myself, and traced my finger lightly over the elegant slope of his nose. His eye didn’t look nearly as bad this morning as I’d expected. There was a little swelling, but the coloring was non-existent. It made me wonder if Jude was used to being hit. If maybe his dad was like mine. He’d said his parent’s never beat him, but I knew from experience how easy it was to lie.  I chewed on my bottom lip worriedly as I pictured a small Jude, defenseless against his own father. I never wanted this man to hurt or suffer. That’s what love did to you, and oh how I loved him.  I didn’t know when I’d be able to find the strength to tell him. I was still too afraid of rejection—and frankly, it scared me that I felt so much for him in such a short amount of time. But I guess these things can’t be controlled. You fall in love when it’s right, not necessarily when you want to. It isn’t a magic switch you can turn on and off. It just…happens. Sometimes it takes time, and sometimes it happens over night. I guess, technically speaking, this had been a long time coming for us—if you counted the seven years I spent hating him, and the last year and a half or so he spent pursuing me.  I shook my head free of my thoughts and reached my finger out to touch his lips. They were soft against the skin of my finger and plump. He had perfect pouty lips.  I jumped when he opened his mouth and lightly nipped my finger. I let out a cry of surprise and then started to laugh. “How long have you been awake?” I asked, hiding my face behind my hands. “Long enough.” He rolled over onto his back and yawned as he stretched his arms above his head. The sheet dropped down, exposing his chest and I couldn’t help but stare and watch his muscles ripple. “If you keep staring at me like that, Tater Tot, then we’re going to have a problem.” I gasped as he rolled on top of me, the heat of his body warming mine. “I wouldn’t mind.” He hummed in the back of his throat. “God I want you so bad all the damn time. Last night made it even worse.” He lowered his head and nuzzled my neck. His hair tickled my skin and I giggled. “You’re fucking amazing.” I took his face in my hands and forced him to look at me. “Can we do it again?” He kissed me in answer. In no time he had me all worked up and just when I was ready to burst he thrust inside me. Things weren’t as slow as they were last night, but it was still perfect in a different way. We showered and I got dressed in my borrowed clothes. Out of the bed and in the light of day, I

started to feel embarrassed about what we’d done. Jude took my worries away with quick kisses and heartfelt glances. He led me to the kitchen and told me to sit down at one of the barstools. He then proceeded to make me breakfast.  He was scrambling eggs when one of his roommates walked in. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” The guy asked, looking me up and down. I felt exposed in my revealing dress and my embarrassment returned. In this outfit it was obvious I’d been at the party—which was long over. So the guy was privy to what Jude and I had done. “Jacob, stop looking at her like that,” Jude warned, despite the fact that he had his back turned to us. Jacob gasped. “How do you even know I’m looking at her?” “Because I know you,” Jude said, still turned away from us as he cooked the eggs, “and you’re definitely looking.” “You haven’t minded in the past,” Jacob countered, still checking me out. If he kept it up I wouldn’t think twice about elbowing him in the gut. “I mind now.” “I see.” Jacob raised his hands in surrender despite the fact that Jude couldn’t see him. Jacob sat down on one of the three stools, leaving the empty one between us.  “I’m Jacob.” He told me, grinning cockily. I supposed he was good looking with his dark almost black hair, olive skin, and green eyes, but all men had lost appeal to me. There was only one that I wanted and he was currently sliding eggs onto a plate for me. Definitely a keeper. “I gathered that.” I propped my elbow on the counter and my head in my hand, giving him a look that said his charm wasn’t going to work on me. “You got a name?” “Yeah,” I replied. “But you don’t need to know it,” I smiled slowly. He chuckled, and his hair flopped in his eyes. “I like her,” he told Jude. Jude growled in reply, turning to glare at his roommate. “Hey,” Jacob laughed, “I said I liked her, not that wanted her. There’s no need to get so defensive. But I must say Brooks, it looks like you’ve finally met your match.”  “Go away,” Jude growled. “You’re getting on my nerves.” Jacob looked at me and shook his head, sighing loudly. “He’s such a delight in the mornings.” To Jude he said, “I’m hungry. I want some eggs too.” “I’m not your mom, make your own damn eggs,” Jude replied. “You made eggs for her!” Jacob cried, throwing his hands in the air. Jude pulled two pieces of bread from the toaster and began to butter them. He raised a brow at Jacob. “She’s my girlfriend. You’re just a pain of my ass. I choose not to feed my problems. I find if I do that they just keep coming back for more instead of going off to die like they should.” “Asshole,” Jacob grumbled, sliding off the stool. Instead of making eggs, he grabbed a bowl, dumped half a box of cereal in it and grabbed a gallon of milk. “I hope your PMS ends soon,” he called over his shoulder to Jude as he left the room. Jude slid a plate of food in front of me and then sat down a glass of orange juice. “Having roommates sucks.” “Seems like it,” I agreed, picking up my fork and taking a bite. “Mmm,” I hummed, “this is so good. I didn’t realize I was so hungry.” Jude sat down beside me and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Gotta keep your strength up, because I’m not done with you.” His tone held the promise of delightful things to come. My body shook with excitement at the thought of all the things he could do to me. “Your grandpa taught you to cook,” I said as a statement, not a question. “Pap and Grams,” he shrugged. “They said it was important that I not starve to death. Plus, Grams was adamant that she wasn’t going to feed me every time I was hungry…which was all the time when I was a teenager.” He shoveled a heaping forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Turns out, I kind of like it.” I shook my head, a small smile lifting my lips. “Is there anything you can’t do?” “No, I’m Superman. When I’m not saving the world I make the best damn eggs you’re ever going to eat. Now eat up woman, we have an exciting day ahead of us and,” his voice lowered and he whispered in my ear, “I will have you again today and it’s going to be even better than the other times.” I should’ve pushed him away and told him he was being presumptuous, but I couldn’t. Instead I leaned closer to him, swaying slightly. The affect he had on me was beyond unfair.

He turned back to his food, smirking. Arrogant jerk. He got me all worked up and left me hanging. I finished my breakfast, feeling stuffed.  “I guess I better take you home,” Jude said reluctantly as he gathered up our empty plates to wash them. “Yeah,” I sighed. “I’d like to at least change my clothes before we have a ‘real’ date,” I smiled. I was insanely curious to know what he had up his sleeve but I knew better than to ask. “You know,” he grinned, turning away from the sink and crossing his arms over his chest, “we could make our date an all day thing…well, maybe the day part wouldn’t be part of the actual date,” he rambled. Frowning, he said, “I’m not making sense. Let me start over.” He took a breath. “What would you say to visiting Pap before our date?” “I’d say there’s no other way I’d rather spend my day,” I grinned, feeling excited.  “How did I get so lucky with you?” He asked. I laughed. “Lucky? I’m the girl that kicked you in the balls, threw a McFlurry at your head, and slapped you when you kissed me. Nothing about that sounds like you should be lucky to have me.” His eyes darkened and he sobered. “You shouldn’t underestimate yourself so much, Tate.” Leaning forward he placed his hands on the counter and stared into my eyes. “You make me better.” I nodded, losing my voice. Clearing my throat, I finally said, “You make me better too.” He grinned slowly, his brown eyes sparkling with happiness. “Now that we have that established, we should go. But first, I should change. This is hardly appropriate date attire.” He plucked at his plain gray t-shirt and pointed to his black sweatpants. I thought he looked lickable but I wasn’t saying that out loud. I knew he’d only use the information to torture me endlessly later on. “I’ll wait down here,” I smiled. “Or,” he drew out the word, “you could come upstairs with me.” He grabbed my hand, trying to pull me off the stool. “Please,” he begged. “Nice try,” I laughed. “But I know what you have in mind and I need a break.” He sighed and put a hand to his heart. “You wound me woman.” Lowering his voice, he whispered in my ear, “Do you need me to kiss it and make it better? You know I will.” My cheeks flamed. “I’m good.” “You know you liked it,” his voice was a throaty growl. “Admit it.” He brushed his lips against my jaw and I’m pretty sure I would’ve told him anything he wanted just to keep feeling his lips against my skin. “I liked it,” I gasped.  “I knew it,” he pulled away, grinning. My cheeks stung slightly where his stubble had scratched it.  I stood and headed towards the living room while he went to get dressed. Before we parted his hand shot out and he slapped my ass. “Jude!” I cried as he ran away. His laugh echoed through the hall and down the stairs as he ran up them. Oh, I was so getting him back for that one. I had to think of something good though. I found myself sitting on the couch by myself. Jacob must have went to his room. I would’ve turned the TV on but there were about fifty remotes and I was afraid of breaking something. A minute later I startled when a half-naked guy walked in. He had shaggy light blond hair, was super tall, and had abs of steel. I was pretty sure he played on the college basketball team. “Hi,” he yawned. He picked up a remote, turned the TV on, and sat down beside me. Well, not beside me, but on the couch. He was nice enough to leave a body’s space between us. “I’m Dylan,” he introduced himself. “Tatum.” “I know,” he replied, not looking at me but at the TV, “you’re Jude’s girl.” I was surprised he knew who I was. “How do you know that?” I asked. “I’m his best friend,” Dylan shrugged. “He told me about you.” My mouth fell open in shock. First, from the fact that Jude had actually talked about me to someone whom he considered a friend and the guy was aware that I was ‘Jude’s girl’. As a smart, independent, woman being called his girl should’ve made me mad, but I loved it. I was also surprised by the fact that this guy was apparently Jude’s best friend. I couldn’t recall ever seeing Jude talk to this guy on campus. But it wasn’t like I made a conscious effort to look for Jude. Nope. Not at all. Okay, maybe I looked for him sometimes. Let’s face it, even when I hated him a part of me couldn’t resist the attraction I felt to him. How twisted was that? 

As if conjured by my thoughts Jude appeared in the doorway. His smile was blindingly bright. I couldn’t help staring at him. He looked strikingly handsome in khaki pants and an aqua colored tshirt. He hadn’t bothered to shave his stubble and I thought it served to make him even more ruggedly handsome.   “I see you’ve met Dylan,” he said as he stepped into the room. I noticed he wasn’t pissed at the sight of Dylan and I, like he had been when Jacob had come into the kitchen. “Yes,” I replied, “we were talking about the fact that apparently I’m your girl now.” Jude chuckled scratching his stubbled jaw. “That’s right. Get used to it, because I’m never letting you go.” He nodded towards the door. “We better go.” I smiled at Dylan. “Bye.” He nodded in reply. I got the idea he was a guy of few words.  Jude and I didn’t speak much on the drive to my house. He did hold my hand the entire way, though. It amazed me how just being near him filled me with serenity. He soothed my broken soul. No, he didn’t just soothe it. He mended it. “Are you coming inside?” I asked him when he parked the truck on the street outside my house.  “Sure, why not,” he shrugged, unbuckling his seatbelt. I unlocked the front door and we headed inside, up to my room.  I closed the door behind us and looked through my closet for something to wear. I eyed what Jude wore and wrinkled my nose. “Do I have to get dressed up for this date?” He bounced on the end of my bed. “I love how you say that like it’s a bad thing, and no you don’t need to dress up.” “Shorts okay?” I asked, holding up a pair. He eyed the length and his eyes glowed. “Yeah, that’s definitely alright with me.” I laughed. I took the dress off and tossed it at his head. He caught it easily. I pulled on a tank top, my shorts, and grabbed a plaid shirt for extra warmth. It might’ve been spring, but that didn’t mean it was warm all the time, and with the shorts I could use the extra layer of clothing. Jude licked his lips, staring at my long legs. “God you’re gorgeous.” “If you keep telling me things like that I might end up getting full of myself. A bit like someone else I know,” I winked. He chuckled and leaned back on my bed, resting on his elbows. “There’s nothing wrong with being confident.” I walked over to him and climbed on the bed, straddling his lap. He grinned, thinking I was up to something. I really just wanted to see his injured eye up close. I reached out to tenderly stroke the skin and he flinched away from my touch. I frowned. “Does it hurt?” He shrugged. “Not too bad.” I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to be such a guy. You can tell me if it hurts.” “It hurts,” he sighed. Brightening, he grinned crookedly. “Are you going to kiss it and make it better?” “Maybe,” I smiled, and leaned in ever so slowly. I pressed my lips against the tender and swollen skin. His breath hissed out and I immediately pulled back. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. “Sorry,” I frowned. “It’s okay,” he sighed, smoothing his fingers through my hair. “You didn’t mean to hurt me.” He chuckled, grinning widely as his eyes flicked down. “I really like this position. Your breasts look great from here.” I rolled my eyes. Such a guy. “Should I say thank you? Or hit you? Because I’m not quite sure.” He laughed heartily, but before he could reply the door to my room flew open. I hadn’t bothered to lock it. I hadn’t thought it was an issue. I was wrong. “Tatum!” My dad bellowed. Standing in the doorway he looked like a raging bull. His face was red, but it was quickly turning purple. A vein in his forehead throbbed, ready to burst. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my house with this boy?!” His fists clenched so hard at his sides that the knuckles turned white. I slid off Jude’s lap and stood. He stood up too, positioning his body so that he was in front of me, protecting me. “Sir—”

“You will not speak!” My dad yelled at Jude. “You are not welcome in my house! Get out!”  I couldn’t figure out why he hated Jude so much, I guessed it really didn’t matter, I just knew it wasn’t for the same reason I’d hated Jude for so long. The man clearly wasn’t in the right frame of mind. I didn’t understand why he was suddenly coming home so often. It used to be rare for him to come home, and when he did he seemed to time it so he knew I wasn’t home. It was like that day he told me I seemed happy something changed in him. Like, if he was still miserable, then I had to be too.  “Sir,” Jude repeated, his tone calm. I could tell from his stance and the slope of his shoulders that he was anything but calm.  I knew that if it came to it, he wouldn’t hesitate to hit my father to protect me. “I’m not going anywhere.” “You’re leaving! I’m a lawyer! I know my rights and you need to get out before I call the cops!” “Then she’s coming with me.” Jude reached behind to grab onto my hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. I hadn’t realized it until he touched me, but I was shaking. My dad’s face went from purple to blue. I thought he might pass out from lack of oxygen. He opened his mouth to start yelling again and this time I couldn’t mistake the stench of alcohol on his breath. He reeked. “I want you away from my daughter! You are a no good son of a bitch from the wrong side of the tracks! She,” my dad thrust a finger in my direction, “is an O’Connor! She will not end up with a scumbag like you!” “Pardon me, sir,” Jude sneered, “but who’s the real scumbag here?” He looked my father up and down significantly. “The guy who cares about your daughter? Or the father who’s yelling at her and looks like he’d love to put his fist to her face?” “You!” My dad screamed rearing back to attack Jude. He was drunk though and therefore his movements were slow. Jude beat him to it, tackling him to the ground. My dad was stunned by the turn of events and didn’t seem to know what to do with himself.  “Come on,” Jude reached for my hand. I gave it to him and he pulled me past my dad who still lay on the ground. He was starting to try to get up, though. “We’ve got to get out of here.” He all but pulled me down the steps. I couldn’t seem to get my feet to move. I was numb. Lost. Floating. I didn’t know how to handle what had transpired. Jude sped out of the neighborhood, breaking at least ten traffic laws. “That man,” he growled, clenching the steering wheel so tight I was surprised it didn’t break off in his grasp, “is a piece of shit. That’s what you live with, Tate? Why? Why don’t you get out of there?” The floodgates opened up then. “I’m trying!” I screamed at him. I wasn’t even mad at him, but my God I needed to scream. I hadn’t wanted him, or anyone else, to know how bad it had gotten recently with my dad, but now that he’d witnessed it firsthand I let all my emotions out. “I’m trying my hardest to get away from there!” I started to sob. “I’m trying,” I repeated, over and over again for lack of anything else to say. I couldn’t seem to stop my tears. My face was soaked with them and they fell from my chin to my shirt.  “Oh, baby,” Jude’s voice cracked. Suddenly, he pulled the truck off the side of the road. He parked the truck, undid his seatbelt, and pulled me into his arms. My elbow bumped into the horn and the sound of it reverberated around us. The tears kept coming and I was helpless to stop them. He wiped them away with his fingers as fast as they came. He even kissed some of them way, like he hoped maybe his kisses could heal the broken pieces of me. I was doing better, I was, but there always seemed to be something that knocked me down again. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head. “Let it out, baby.” I clung to him like he was the only thing holding me up and maybe he was. He was my strength. My rock. He kept me whole. I tucked my head beneath his chin, my tears dampening his skin. I hadn’t cried this hard since I lost Graham. I thought maybe I’d been keeping all the tears bottled inside me all these years. Now, the dam broke free. Jude whispered sweet words to me, but I couldn’t understand any of them. It was like my mind shut down all-together. It was the only way I could cope. It’s what I always did: Pretend it wasn’t happening. It was so much easier to ignore everything around me than to face it straight on. Maybe that made me weak, but I didn’t care.  His lips brushed the top of my head. One of his hands wiped at my cheeks while the other rubbed my

back in a soothing gesture.  I gasped for air. This was probably the most epic ugly cry in the entire universe and Jude handled it as if he dealt with this kind of thing every day. Most guys would have run away from me, screaming their heads off. I was pretty sure it was a fact somewhere: Tears scared guys. But not Jude. He was different. I think deep down I’d always known it, but I’d clung to my hatred of him. I needed someone to hate and he became my scapegoat, but now that hate had nowhere to go but to my parents. I could feel the anger rising in my body to boiling levels. It would only take one more interaction with my dad and I’d lose my ever-loving mind.  “Let it out, Tate,” Jude whispered, kissing my forehead in a tender gesture. “Let yourself feel.” I was letting myself feel. All of it. All the pain, and hate, and heartbreak, and a million other things I’d kept bottled inside for far too long. I felt it everywhere and it was the most painful thing in the world, but also the most healing. I pushed away from Jude’s arms and was out of the truck before he knew what I was doing.  We were on a back road and there were no cars or people for miles. Just animals, and I wasn’t worried about them. I walked a ways, a hundred feet or so, and let my head fall back. I opened my mouth and I screamed. I was doing what Jude told me. I was letting it all out and this was the only way I could truly do that. I screamed again, because it felt so good the first time. After another scream, I fell to the ground on my knees, my chest heaving as I gulped greedily at the air. Jude had gotten out of the truck at some point and his arms wrapped around me. He was quiet for a moment, just holding me, but finally he spoke. “Feel better now?” He asked. I nodded. I couldn’t seem to find the words to speak.  “Good.” He picked me up bridal style and I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning my head against his chest. His heart thumped steadily against my ear. I decided in that moment that the sound of Jude’s heart was my favorite sound in the whole world. It eased my pain and brought me comfort.  It was kind of funny actually, how falling in love with the wrong person could be the most right thing in the world. Everything about Jude was made for me and I was made for him. We completed each other in every way. Jude set me in the truck like I was a doll. He kissed me gently, as if he hoped his kiss alone could heal me. He looked down at me, his brown eyes full of warmth and caring. “It’s okay to be sad, it isn’t a bad thing, unless you let it be. When you’re sad, you have to remember not to let it eat you up so that you can find happiness again.” He traced his index finger lightly over my parted lips. “I used to be angry all the time, because of my parents, but my anger never solved anything. It just made me a miserable person. I don’t want that for you, Tate. Don’t let it eat you up. Find your happy.” “You’re my happy.” I whispered. He grinned crookedly and cupped my cheek, rubbing his thumb against my skin. “And you’re my happy.” To others our words might’ve seemed cheesy, but they were one-hundred percent true. Before Jude I hadn’t realized how rarely I was happy. He gave that back to me. No, not just that. He gave me back me. He resurrected the Tatum who’d died with her brother. If that didn’t make him special—us special—I didn’t know what did. I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him. He seemed surprised by the gesture and slowly wrapped his arms around me, which was hard since he was still standing outside the truck while I sat inside.  “Thank you,” I whispered in his ear. “For what?” He asked with surprise in his eyes. “For you.” He smiled. “That’s one thing you never need to thank me for, Tatum.” He backed out of the cab of the truck and closed the door. He jogged around to the driver’s side and climbed inside.  “To Pap’s?” He asked, seeming unsure if I still wanted to go or not.

I nodded. “Absolutely. I’ve missed that man.” Jude grinned, looking in the rearview mirror before pulling away. “I should be jealous. I’m pretty sure you’re using me to get to my grandpa.” I laughed, flipping down the visor so I could check my makeup in the mirror. Wiping away streaks of mascara I said, “You caught me. I’m in love with your grandpa.” “I knew it!” He laughed, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song on the radio. “I’m cuter though.” “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” I smiled, and it was genuine, “your grandpa is kind of hot.” He gasped and then we dissolved into fits of laughter. It was amazing how one minute we could be having a serious conversation, involving buckets of tears on my part, and the next we could be happy and joking. I guessed when you found the right person that’s what happened. I tilted my head to the side, studying Jude’s profile. From the slope of his forehead, to the arch of his nose, and down to his pouty lips he was perfect for me. But it wasn’t just his looks. It was him. I was connected to him in a way I knew I’d never be with anyone else. I hadn’t been looking for the one, or anyone for that matter, but love doesn’t wait till you think you’re ready. It comes along when you least expect it and turns your life upside down. It sends you on a journey of epic proportions and changes the course of your life. It completes you.

WE SPENT THE WHOLE afternoon with Jude’s grandpa, but when it came to be evening time Jude made me wait in the living room while he did something in the kitchen. I was desperate to know what he was up to, but I was sure it had something to do with our ‘date’.  After my cry-fest things had settled down and I let myself relax and have some fun.  “What’s that grandson of mine up to?” Jerry asked me. I shrugged. “Who knows?” Jerry grew quiet and I could feel his eyes on me. I wondered what he was thinking. “Jude is lucky to have a girl like you,” he said. I smiled, turning to face him better. “Thank you. I’m lucky to have him too.” “There’s something I want to show you,” Jerry stood slowly. His back creaked as he stretched. “Uh…” I started. “He might get mad if I leave the room and spoil his surprise.” Jerry waved a hand dismissively. “He’ll have to go through me first to get to you. Don’t worry.” I couldn’t help laughing at that.  Jerry led me upstairs and into his bedroom. He shuffled stuff around on the dresser and looked through the drawers. “Aha,” he cried with joy when he found the box. He smiled proudly as he handed it to me. I lifted the lid and gasped at what I found inside. Nestled in the box was a silver bracelet with a single heart charm on it. “It was my Mae’s,” he smiled. “She’d want you to have it.” “I can’t except this.” I thrust the box back into Jerry’s hands. “It isn’t right.” “Yes, it is,” Jerry said adamantly. “I see the way Jude looks at you. You’re going to be in this family for a long time and I want you to have this. Please.” He tried to hand me the box again, but I refused to take it. “I can’t take this, Jerry,” I shook my head, backing a step away with my hands raised. “It was your wife’s and I’m just Jude’s girlfriend.” “Fine,” Jerry huffed, and I thought he was going to put it away. Instead, he tried a different tactic. “Then accept it because you’re my friend.” “Jerry,” I whined desperately. “The bracelet is beautiful and I’d be honored to wear it, but it’s special to you. I can’t take it.” He shook his head. Stubborn old man. “Because it’s special to me I want you to have it. It deserves to be worn, not sitting in this old box. Please,” he handed me the box again and I took it, “it’s yours now. I look at you as if you’re my granddaughter and I want you to have something special. If it makes you feel better think of it as a graduation gift. You’re graduating soon, right?” I nodded in answer and was about two seconds away from crying again. “Are you sure?” I asked, cradling the box protectively against my chest.  “I’m sure,” he smiled, patting my hand. 

I set the box down and Jerry looked ready to argue with me again, but he closed his mouth when he saw that I was simply removing the bracelet to put it on my wrist. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his wrinkled cheek. “Thank you.” He wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug. “You’re welcome.” I picked up the box once more and held it carefully. The bracelet jingled against my wrist. I’d never worn a lot of jewelry but the bracelet felt like it belonged. I started to walk out of the room, but something that had been bugging me for a while forced me to stop. I turned to Jerry and asked, “Do you remember a girl named Julia?” Jerry’s eyes filled with surprise. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time, but yes.” “Did Andrew love her?” I asked. I don’t know why, but it seemed important to know. Jerry sighed, scratching his chin. “I’m not sure my son ever loved anyone but himself. Why are you asking?” “Just wondering,” I shrugged. I sucked on my bottom lip and decided to ask one last question. “Do you happen to remember Julia’s last name?” Jerry rolled his eyes in thought. After a moment he answered, “Hansen. Julia Hansen.” “Thanks,” I smiled. We headed downstairs and found Jude waiting by the front door with a smile on his face. “What are you two up to?” He asked. I held my wrist out. “He wanted to give me this.” “That was Grams,” Jude smiled wistfully, his fingers brushing lightly against my wrist. “It looks beautiful on you, Tate.” “Thank you,” I smiled. Jude started to say goodbye to his grandpa, but Jerry interrupted him. “There’s something I’d like to give you too.” He nodded his head back up the steps. “Oh,” Jude sobered. “Yeah, okay.” I started to follow, but Jerry said, “Tatum, would you mind waiting down here?” “Not at all,” I smiled. I stood by the door, looking out the window. They must have been having a long talk, because ten minutes had past by the time Jude returned. Jude seemed oddly serious, and I worried that maybe Jerry had told him something that upset him. Something told me not to ask though. Shaking his head free of his thoughts, Jude smiled. “Date time.” “Bye Jerry!” I called to the man who stood at the top of the steps. He nodded in acknowledgement, watching the two of us. Once in the truck, I asked Jude, “Where are we going?” “Not far,” was his reply. I knew Jude well enough to know that was all he was going to say on the matter. A few minutes later he was backing his truck up to the pond. I couldn’t help grinning. I’d been picturing a restaurant or the movies for our first real date—something cliché—but leave it to Jude to surprise me. He grabbed a blanket and hopped out of the truck. I followed. He put the tailgate down and grabbed a picnic basket. I noticed the bed of the truck was covered in blankets and pillows.  He strolled over and found a spot he liked. He unfolded the blanket and fluffed it, spreading it down on the ground. I kicked off my shoes, grinning. “A picnic?” I asked, although I already knew the answer. He grinned. “Was it a good idea?” “It was a great idea,” I smiled back, my body filling with happiness. Only Jude could make me feel this happy without even trying. I sat down on the soft blanket and he took the spot beside me, kicking off his boots. “I wanted our first date to be special…something you’d always remember.” My heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. Looking around the field and the pond in front of us, I smiled. “This is perfect.” It was the truth too. He couldn’t have come up with anything better. “Good.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. My heart swelled. I’d never known someone could make you feel so…loved without even saying it. But

I guess that was the thing, love was more than just the words, you had to feel it, because at the end of the day words weren’t everything. They would’ve been nice to hear, but I knew neither of us was ready. So, for now, I was content in what I felt. Words could come later. He grabbed the picnic basket and lifted the lid. He placed several different types of sandwiches, bottles of water, chips, and an assortment of fruit. He’d even packed paper plates, napkins, and forks. He hadn’t forgotten anything. I was so incredibly touched that tears pricked my eyes—and after my day, I was a tad over emotional. Jude didn’t seem to mind though. He unwrapped the sandwiches and said, “Those two are turkey and these two are chicken salad, and those two are ham. I wasn’t sure what you’d prefer so I thought I’d give you some options.”  I reached out and grabbed a plate with a turkey sandwich.  He chuckled. “I thought you might pick that one.” He handed me a small bag of chips and grabbed one for himself. He wiggled around, getting comfortable on the blanket. He set the bowl of fruit between us and handed me one of the forks. “I thought it would be easier if we shared,” he explained. He picked up his own plate—one with a ham sandwich. I took a bite of sandwich, staring ahead as the sun started to lower. Sunset was fast approaching and we were going to get to watch it. Out here, in the middle of a field and surrounded by nature, little things like a sunset seemed magnified. You were able to watch it in all its glory as it was meant to be seen. People tended to get too caught up in their lives and forgot to appreciate such simple beauty. Not Jude. He saw the beauty in everything, and that’s why he picked this as our first official date.  “This is so amazing,” I finally spoke, breaking the quiet. The sun bathed us in an orange glow. “I’m glad you think so.”  I grabbed my fork and stabbed a grape with it. It popped in my mouth, the juices exploding. Even though our meal was simple, I swore nothing had ever tasted this good before.  I speared a piece of watermelon next.  When my belly was full I gathered up my trash. Jude took it from me and set it in the basket. The only thing that would make it even better was— “Dessert,” Jude grinned, pulling another plate out of the basket. Two large slices of double chocolate cake sat atop it. “I know you love sweet things.” I laughed. “Yeah, my sweet tooth is quite a monster.” He took the saran wrap off and grabbed two clean forks from the basket. He set the plate between us, like he’d done with the fruit bowl, only this time he rolled onto his stomach. I mimicked his position. We ate the cake and enjoyed the sunset. It wouldn’t be long till darkness fell. When the cake was gone—I finished off his piece as well—I asked, “Did you make this?” He laughed. “I wish I could take credit, but no. I picked up the cake from a local bakery.” “It was fantastic.” “I’m glad you liked it.” His voice lowered and his brown eyes darkened. He closed the distance between us quickly and kissed me. He grinned, licking his lips. “You had icing on your lips. I couldn’t resist.” I bowed my head, smiling. “Jude?” “Yeah?” He asked, watching me closely.  “I think it’s safe to say this has been the best first date ever.” He grinned, his eyes brightening. “And it’s not over yet.” “It’s not?” I asked with a surprise. He shook his head. “Oh no, Tate, it’s only getting started.” I narrowed my eyes. “What else do you have planned?” He rolled onto his back and reached over, grabbing me around my waist. He moved me onto my back as well, and made sure my body was glued to his without a sliver of space between us. I tossed my leg over his and laid my head on his shoulder. I sighed with happiness and smiled.  The sun was a huge orange ball surrounding us. The air was growing cool, but the light from the sun swathed us in warmth. The flowers around us seemed to glow, as if the sun lit them like a candle. I’d never seen a more beautiful sight.   We didn’t say anything. We didn’t need to. Just being with each other was enough. As if sensing that I was growing sleepy—from my full belly and the last of the days warmth blanketing my body—Jude jumped up and reached down to pull me up beside him.

“What are we doing?” I laughed. “Hang on, you’ll see.” He pulled his iPhone out and music flowed around us. I recognized the song and couldn’t help smiling. It was perfect. Jude didn’t do anything halfway. He went all out. Even though I already thought our date was perfect, he wasn’t done wowing me yet. He grabbed me around the waist with one hand and pulled my body against his. With his free hand he entwined our hands together. We began to sway to the music and he sang the lyrics softly in my ear. I closed my eyes, smiling, as I laid my head against his chest.  Happiness wasn’t just one feeling. It was many, all combined, and Jude gave me that. I wasn’t lying when I told him he was my happy. He made everything better without even trying. All he had to do was just be him. All the extra stuff was icing on the figurative cake—because I ate the real one. I shivered as the sun went down and the air cooled even more. He stopped dancing long enough to grab the blanket from the ground and wrap it around us.  I looked up at him with heated eyes. What was he doing to me?  We started swaying again and the song changed to another. He sang along to that one too. When it finished he leaned in close to me. “I’m going to kiss you now.” “’Bout time, Brooks,” I grinned.  My eyes shut and he closed the distance between us. He kissed me slowly at first, then more deeply. He took his time, making sure I felt the kiss all the way down to the tips of my toes. He reached up to take my cheeks in his large hands and the blanket dropped to the ground. His lips moved against mine and mine were more than happy to answer every stroke of his.   Every time we kissed it was exciting and different. He always found a way to make it even better than the last.  His tongue stroked mine and I gasped. My fingers tangled in the soft strands of his brown hair, drawing him closer. His hand found my neck, tilting my head back. He kissed me slow. Then hard. Then fast. Then slow again. He deepened it, his tongue stroking lightly against mine. If kisses could make you dizzy, then this was one of those kisses. With a grin, he broke the kiss. He smiled down at me like I was his world. I squeaked in surprise when he turned me around so my back was to his front. His hand eased up my top and then under the edge of the tank I wore. His fingers stroked lightly against my skin in tantalizing circles. I reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear. He rubbed his nose against my cheek and then I felt his mouth against my ear. “Want to know a secret?” I smiled. “Yeah.” He chuckled warmly at my enthusiasm. “You’re beautiful.” I reached behind me, wrapping my arms around his neck. I moved my hips to the beat of the song and his hands rose higher.  “You’re a charmer, Jude Brooks.” He kissed the skin below my ear. “I’m no such thing.” “Mhmm,” I closed my eyes, a small smile on my face. He lowered his head, nuzzling my neck. His stubble scratched at my skin.  “The sun’s going down.” He whispered huskily in my ear. “Watch the stars with me?” I couldn’t seem to find my voice, so I nodded in reply. He turned me around so I faced him once more and my eyes popped open. “I want you to know that you make me want things I’ve never wanted with anyone else.” He swallowed thickly. “You should already know that,” he cracked a smile, “but I wanted to say the words out loud. I want you to know that you’re more for me.” He rubbed a strand of my hair between his fingers. “You’ve always been different, Tate. I used to watch you in high school and I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were and unlike other guys, I loved your tough girl attitude. You didn’t take shit from anyone. You weren’t afraid to speak your mind. I’ve always found that insanely attractive about you. But back then,” he smoothed a finger over my cheek, “it wasn’t our time. This, right now,” he leaned his forehead against mine, “is our time.” I nodded in agreement. “Our time.” He picked up the blanket and I thought it was to spread it back on the ground, but he didn’t. Instead he draped it over his arm and led me over to the truck. He put the tailgate down and grabbed me by my hips, lifting me up and onto the mountain of blankets and pillows. 

I scooted back and found it surprisingly comfortable. He climbed in beside me and lay down on his back, fluffing a pillow behind his head. We watched the last of the sun creep down below the line of the trees. The sky became a pretty deep purple before darkening completely. Under normal circumstances I would’ve been scared to death out in the middle of nowhere in complete darkness, but with Jude I wasn’t afraid at all. He made me feel comfortable and safe. I didn’t fear him and I knew he’d protect me from anything hiding in the dark. I trusted him fully. He spread the blanket overtop of us and I rolled onto my side snuggling close to him. I laid my hand against his chest, rubbing my fingers in light circles over the thin cotton of his shirt. I felt his lips brush my forehead in a barely there kiss and then his fingers smoothed through my hair. “You always smell so good,” he breathed. I laughed, raising my head a bit to look in his eyes. “That was a strange thing to say.” “What’s wrong with saying you smell good? Isn’t that a good thing?” I laughed again and laid my head down. “Yeah, it’s a good thing.” “What perfume do you use? I can’t figure out the scent.” His fingers rubbed my back. “I don’t use perfume, just my shampoo and conditioner and that’s jasmine scented, but I showered with you this morning, remember? So I guess I smell like you.” His chuckle vibrated my body and without even looking I knew he was grinning. “That’s why you smell even better today. I really like you smelling like me.” “Don’t get all territorial man-beast on me now,” I laughed, pinching his chest lightly and then rubbing my fingers soothingly over the area. “Me? Territorial? Never,” he gasped. We both laughed at that. “Tate,” he said suddenly. “Yeah?” I asked, stifling a yawn. Despite the fact that it wasn’t that late, I felt exhausted after all of today’s activities. “We’re supposed to be stargazing.” “Oh, right.” I turned my head slightly and looked up at the night sky. Out here in the country you could see all the stars. There had to be hundreds, or thousands, maybe even more like a million. Regardless, they were stunning in their simplicity. They sparkled above us and almost seemed to be winking. “Oh! Look a shooting star!” I pointed.  Jude started to laugh and I frowned.  “That was a plane, Tatum.” His body shook as he continued to laugh. “Oh.” I mumbled. “My bad.” “You see that star up there,” he pointed. I squinted, trying to see which one he was trying to show me. “I think so.” “That’s the North Star.” “How can you tell?” I asked. I’d never been that into stars and knew very little about them. I wondered why Jude seemed so fascinated by them. “Because, Tater Tot, I know everything.” I smacked his chest lightly in a playful manner. “That’s a shitty answer, Brooks. You’ve got to give me something better than that.” “What’s a better answer than that?” He chuckled. “I really do know everything. I’m kind of brilliant like that. Borderline genius.” “Mhmm, liar.” I laughed, drawing random designs on his chest as I looked up at the sky. “You wound me. My feelings are hurt now.” “Oh please,” I rolled my eyes despite the fact that he couldn’t see, “I know it would take a lot more than that to get to you.” “You’re right,” he sighed, sobering. “I grew a thick skin a long time ago.” “I hate that things were so awful for you,” I whispered. “Hey,” he stroked his fingers gently through my hair, “things weren’t so great for you either.” “You know,” I started, drumming my fingers against his chest, “I think maybe we should try to find Julia.” “Julia?” He repeated in surprise. “The girl Pap thinks you are when he’s having one of his episodes?”

I nodded and then said, “Yes. I don’t know why…but I just have this feeling like it’s important that we find her. It’s weird.” I squirmed a bit, thinking he’d tell me I was crazy and to let it drop. He didn’t, though. “Hmm,” he tapped his fingers against my arm as he thought, “let’s do it then.” “You don’t think I’m crazy?” I asked, sitting up. One hand was pressed against his chest and my other against the blankets. My hair fell forward, hiding my face. He pushed it back over my shoulder and cupped my cheek. “Maybe a little,” he grinned and I bowed my head. “How do we even go about finding her? She might not even be real you know.” “I asked your grandpa about her today,” I shrugged before laying back down in my previous position.  “You did?” His tone was full of surprise. Obviously he hadn’t been at all curious about the girl named Julia, while I found it to be a mystery I was desperate to solve. Just call me Nancy Drew.  “I did,” I replied. “He said her name was Julia Hansen. I didn’t ask him anything else.” I purposely left out the part where I did ask if Andrew, Jude’s dad, had loved her. “Of course, she’s probably married now, but it’s a start.” “Look at you,” he chuckled, tweaking my nose, “my little detective.” “Hey,” I laughed, “if he’s going to think I’m this Julia person half the time then I deserve to know who she is.” “I guess so.” Suddenly he pointed up at the sky. “Look, Tate! Now, that’s a shooting star.” I gazed up in awe at the light streaking across the sky.  “Make a wish,” he whispered. I closed my eyes, but I didn’t wish for anything. After all, I now had everything. “What did you wish for?” He asked me. “I can’t tell you that. You know that would break the rules,” I smiled. He rolled on top of me, pining me against the blankets with hands on either side of my head. “You make me want to break all the rules I made for myself,” he confessed. “And what would those rules be exactly?” I asked, tilting my head slightly to side. He bit his lips, debating what he was going to say next. “I can’t tell you yet.” “Can’t or won’t?” I countered. “Won’t,” he answered immediately. “I’ll tell you soon, though. When I’m ready.” I nodded. “Okay. As long as you promise not to forget. I’m really curious about all these rules you want to break with me.” “One day,” he promised. His face grew serious, his eyes darkening to the point that they were nearly black. “Tate…” He swallowed thickly, his eyes closing. They opened wide and he took a breath. “Will you make love with me under the stars?” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and brought him down to the point that our lips were almost touching, but not quite. Before I kissed him, I said, “Do you really need to ask?” I didn’t wait for him to reply. I closed that last millimeter between us and kissed him. He growled low in his throat. Jude initiated pretty much everything between us, but I was discovering that I could make him crazy by kissing him. I think it pleased him to know that he wasn’t the only one that wanted this. I wished I could be as open with my feelings as him. I was getting better but I wasn’t quite there yet.  So I’d just have to show him instead. “Tate,” he breathed my name between our lips.  I kissed him leisurely, like we had all the time in the world. I put everything I had into that kiss so he’d know how I felt. I needed some way to express the depth of my feelings without saying them out loud.  His fingers found the buttons of my shirt, undoing them quickly. He pushed the fabric off my shoulders without breaking our kiss. It fell behind me.  I lightly bit his plump bottom lip and he let out a moan that had me squirming.  I pushed against him, deepening the kiss. Our tongues tangled together in a dance that only we knew.  My back rested on the soft blankets and my head was cradled by one of the many pillows. His lips broke away from mine and I gasped with longing. I wanted more. So much more.  His lips descended down my neck and he planted kisses over my breasts which heaved with every breath. I couldn’t get enough oxygen—no, that was a lie. It was Jude I couldn’t get enough of. 

His fingers found the edge of my tank top. He didn’t bother taking it off slowly. It was ripped from my body and tossed outside the confines of the truck bed. Something told me I might never find it, and I really didn’t care. I needed this. I needed him. “You’re all I want.” His breath tickled the skin of my stomach with his words. “You’re it for me. Please, never doubt that.” Somehow, without even telling him, Jude was aware of my insecurities. But how could I not be insecure when I knew he was a player? No matter the depths of my feelings for him, there was still this nagging voice in the back of my head telling me this wouldn’t last. Someone like Jude…he wasn’t made to be tamed, so what made me different? “I only want you,” he continued, pressing soft kisses to my belly. His mouth ventured lower to the skin just above the top of my shorts and my hips bucked involuntarily.  I didn’t have a reply. I was pretty sure my brain had shut down entirely and could only process the touch of his fingers and the sensations they created in my body. He undid the button of my shorts, but I grabbed his hand to stop him.  He looked at me quizzically, his fingers twitching against my shorts as he tried to restrain himself from tearing them off my body. “Tate?” He prompted. I swallowed thickly and reached out for his shirt. He let go of my shorts and lifted his arms to remove his t-shirt. Yes. That was so much better.  I sat up and kissed his chest, right over his heart and then put my hand over it. I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. We both breathed heavily and his eyes were a heated brown, dark with longing. I couldn’t believe he was mine. It seemed surreal. I was so afraid that something was going to come along and rip him away from me. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to survive the loss of another person. I looked away and said nothing as I went back to kissing his chest. His skin was so smooth and soft, but hard at the same time. He was going to have to let me watch him workout one of these days, because I really wanted to see what he did to get these muscles.  His hands skated up my back, oh so slowly, making me shiver.  He found the clasp of my bra and it fell between us. He pressed our chests together so we were skin to skin. I fit perfectly against him, like we’d been designed to come together like two puzzle pieces.  His lips found mine in the dark and he tilted my head back with one hand. His tongue pressed against my lips and my mouth opened for him. Our hearts thumped in sync.  He lowered me once more as I fumbled with his belt and then the button of his pants. He kicked them off and then we were both left with only a single garment separating us.  I couldn’t seem to catch my breath and neither could Jude.  We hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet. My body tensed with excitement. My legs wrapped around his waist and I pulled him down against me. We both let out a moan. Something told me this was going to be even better than the last two times. I rubbed my hands against his back and reveled in the feel of his muscles tensing and flexing as he restrained himself. He pulled down my shorts and underwear and I lowered my legs so he could slip them off and then returned to my previous position. His fingers rubbed against me, and my back arched as I let out a loud gasp that echoed through the night. “Fuck, Tate,” he gasped, lightly biting my shoulder, “I don’t know if I can wait.” I swallowed and forced my breathing to slow so I could speak. “Then don’t.” I reached for his boxers and he growled low in his throat. His eyes drifted closed and his too long lashes fanned against his cheeks. It filled me with pleasure to know that I put that look on his face. I knew I was relatively inexperienced and I’d worried I wouldn’t be good enough for him, but that clearly wasn’t the case. He fixed the blanket on top of us, but with the heat we generated we didn’t need it to protect us from the cold. My skin was already feverish and dampened with a light sheen of sweat. “Jude,” I found my voice once more, “please, I need you. Now.” I panted like a wild animal, but I

couldn’t make myself care. My desire to have him was far too great to worry about such silly things. He growled and nipped at my chin before capturing my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and played with the short strands of his hair that reached his neck. He reached down, guiding himself inside me the barest inch. My body tensed at first, still not used to it.  “Relax, Tate,” he murmured against my lips and kissed me again, and again, until my body melted and relaxed enough to let him slip inside. When he was all the way in, he stopped. He grabbed my hips between his fingers, his hold nearly bruising. His head fell back and his mouth parted slightly. He shuddered all over and then looked at me.  “No one has ever felt as good as you. No one,” he reiterated. His mouth found my breast and he took a nipple into his mouth. “It was always meant to be you.” He said the words so quietly that I wouldn’t have believed he said anything if I hadn’t seen his lips move with the words. I nodded my head in agreement. Jude Brooks was the last person on earth I’d ever wanted, but there are some things you just can’t fight. We were meant to be. I saw that now. Fighting on my end had been futile.  He slid in and out slowly, taking his time. My hips rose to meet his. There was nothing hurried about our movements. We both knew we had all the time in the world.  He sucked on my bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth and letting it go with an audible pop.  He cupped my breasts in his hands as if testing their fullness. Then, one of his hands headed lower and rubbed against me. My hips bucked and I clawed at his back. I couldn’t even begin to describe the feelings he generated inside me. It was like he knew exactly what to do to make my body sing. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, my fingers slipping against his damp skin, but I needed something to hold onto, because I was pretty sure I was about to fly away.  His fingers rubbed harder and my body tightened before relaxing. I gasped his name in his ear as I came down from my high.  He murmured something in my ear, but my brain couldn’t process his words. He moved in and out of me torturously slow. “More, harder, please,” I begged wantonly.  “No,” he growled. “This is making love, Tate,” he panted, “I’m not going to fuck you this time. We’ll save that for later.” There was a promising tone to his voice and my body shook. His tongue laved against my neck, leaving a wet streak, and then he lightly bit the same spot as if he was marking me. I didn’t mind the territorial display. He rubbed his thumbs over my nipples in a circular motion and my body arched back, giving him better access. He knew exactly what to do to make me crazy. He owned me, body and soul. His mouth took my breast once more and my body clenched around him from the sensations he created. I’d never known I could experience such pleasure. His jaw clenched and his eyes closed. I rubbed his cheek soothingly with a stroke of my fingers. “Jude,” I pleaded, my words a breathy gasp, “look at me. Please.” I didn’t care if it sounded like I was begging. I needed to look in his eyes. I had to know if he was as affected by this as I was. I didn’t know if I could survive if he didn’t feel the same. His eyes blinked open slowly, like it took a lot of effort.  My gut clenched at the look in his eyes. Oh yeah, he felt it too. At the same time, and staring into each other’s eyes, we fell apart together as the stars twinkled above us. Perfection? I thought so.

I WALKED NERVOUSLY THROUGH the back entrance of the cupcake shop. I’d been so consumed by school for so many years that I’d never had a real job. Just the random babysitting gig now and then.  “Tatum!” Lucinda smiled, breezing over to me. “Hi.” My voice shook with nerves. She seemed to sense it and patted my cheek. “Don’t be worried dear. This job is easy peasy. Come on, let’s get you a shirt and hat.” She led me over to a closet and opened it up. Inside were several different styles of shirts and a hat like Bryce had been wearing the other day when I came to see about a job.  Lucinda looked me up and down and pulled out a shirt. She’d grabbed the right size. She handed me a hat and pointed to a door. “That’s a bathroom. You can change in there and then we’ll go over everything.” Inside the bathroom, I locked the door just in case Bryce was here and tried to pull a prank on me. He struck me as the type to try something—not to be mean, but to have a laugh. I removed my shirt and put it in my purse before shrugging into the Lucinda’s shirt. It was black with pink writing on it.  I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and secured it with an elastic. I put the hat on and pulled my long hair through the opening in the back. I sighed, looking at my reflection. Here I was, about to graduate, and working at a cupcake shop. It wasn’t the glamorous journalism career path I wanted for myself, but you had to start somewhere, and I needed the money. When I told Jude about my new job, he hadn’t been thrilled about all the time it would tie up, but after experiencing my dad firsthand he knew this was what I had to do.  I opened the door and found Lucinda standing at one of the counters, dropping ingredients into the bowl. Upon seeing me, she wiped her hands on a dishrag and blew her hair out of her face with a breath. “I thought we’d start you on the register for a while, and work your way up to baking. Making cupcakes is an exact science, and until you know how to make them right, it can turn into a disaster.” I laughed, nodding my head in agreement. “Alright, come on sweetie.” She put a hand on my shoulder and guided me to the front. Bryce was busy boxing cupcakes for a customer.  Lucinda decided to use this as the perfect opportunity to teach me how to work the register. When the customer was gone she pointed a finger at Bryce. “You. Back. Now.” She tossed her thumb over her shoulder. Bryce bowed his head. “You’re so mean to me.” “Well,” she called to his retreating form, “if you didn’t do stupid stuff all the time, I wouldn’t have to worry.” Lucinda sighed with her hands on her hips. “I swear, if he wasn’t family I would’ve killed him by now. He’s a pain in my—”

“I can hear you!” Bryce yelled from the back and it sounded like a bowl dropped. Lucinda shook her head, her gray hair falling forward to frame her face.  She took a breath and sobered, going back to my training. She was really nice and took her time explaining everything so that there was no chance that I would forget it.  Soon, she left me on my own. For the first few customers I dealt with on my own, I was insanely nervous and my fingers were clumsy, but I quickly calmed down. Most people seemed to be regulars and took the time to stop and chat with me since I was new.  At the end of the day, I was exhausted. My bed was calling my name, but I still needed to shower and work on my paper. It was due Friday, so there was no time to spare. Thankfully, I knew it was close to completion.  I drove home slowly, a part of me wanting to drive right by and go to Jude’s or even Rowan’s. I knew with every fiber of my being that I didn’t want to set foot in that house. But I did, because it was what I had to do. My mom was in the living room when I walked inside. Just sitting there, staring off into space. My dad didn’t seem to be home, unless he was in his office and I wasn’t going to go in there to check. No way was I going to risk that with the way his temper had been lately.  But not just lately, I had to remind myself. I had to remember that he had been like this before. I just hadn’t been the one dealing with the brunt of his temper.  I helped my mom up and sat her down at the kitchen table with a bowl of soup I warmed on the stove. I knew she’d eat eventually if I left her alone long enough. It was pretty sad that I couldn’t even remember the last time my mom spoke. I knew she wasn’t completely out of it, because she could still get around on her own if she wanted, and sometimes I’d find things moved when I knew she was the only one home. But whenever I was around, she just…stopped. It was like it was too much effort for her to function around me.  I went upstairs and showered, changing into a pair of sweats and a tank top.  By the time I checked on her again, she’d eaten. I helped her into bed and turned off the light in her room. I closed and locked the door to my room when I stepped inside. After what happened with my dad I wasn’t going to chance leaving it unlocked again. Lesson learned. I sat down on my bed with my laptop. I pulled up the word document, read over the last thing I’d written, and began to type. The words flowed easily now and I even found myself smiling as I typed. After a good hour, exhaustion overcame me. I saved my paper and put my laptop in my backpack.  It took me a little while to fall asleep. I missed Jude’s warmth surrounding me.

I FELL INTO A PATTERN that week. School. Homework. Work. Homework.  Sleep. Finals were killing me and I wanted to curse myself for getting a job now, instead of waiting till after graduation. At least I’d have almost a month’s worth of pay saved up, so that was better than nothing, but it left little time for anything else. I barely saw Jude, which meant I hadn’t seen his grandpa in a while and that made me immensely sad.  Luckily, all seniors were in the same boat. Jude was just as busy as me, cramming in as much study time as possible in-between tests.  Jude, Rowan, and I sat in the school’s library at one of the tables with papers, books, and computers scattered around us. All of us had dark circles under our eyes and Jude looked like he hadn’t shaved since last week. At this point my brain was so dead that I couldn’t even remember when I showered last.  I’d gotten my paper done for Professor Taylor and I had two more to finish by next week, on top of tests.  I was pretty sure that when I took my last test I’d immediately fall over asleep…or dead. One of the

two, because I also couldn’t remember the last time I ate. And I really needed a coffee. Someone! Get me an IV of caffeine, stat! As if he heard my thoughts, Jude’s head rose and he rubbed his tired eyes. “I’m going to Griffin’s. Y’all want anything?” “I’m coming with you!” I jumped up, stuffing everything into my backpack.  “I’m going home,” Rowan yawned, standing up and packing her things away as well. “I’m so tired that I keep reading the same sentence over again. This isn’t benefitting me. I just need some sleep at this point. See y’all later,” she waved, heading away without a backwards glance. Jude and I headed out to the parking lot, neither of us talking. We were both too tired to form sentences it seemed.  When I turned to head towards my car, he cried, “Whoa,” and grabbed my hand. “What?” I asked.  “You’re riding with me,” he stated, entwining our fingers together and leading me to his truck. “I should really take my car,” I told him, trying to get him to let go of my hand. “It’ll be easier.” He stopped in the middle of the parking lot and looked down at me. “I’ve seen you barely any this week. Even if we don’t talk, I just want to spend some time with you.” How could I resist that? “Okay,” I smiled. I understood where he was coming from. I felt the same way. Being in his presence was enough to make me happy. We didn’t have to talk or do anything else. I thought that might be how you knew you’d found the one. It wasn’t one single thing that attracted you to them. It was everything.  “Did you finish your paper?” Jude asked as he pulled out of the library parking lot. “The one you shadowed me for?” “Yeah,” I smiled, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I’m really happy with how it turned out.” His gaze flicked to me. “Do you think you might let me read it?”  I shrugged. “Sure.” My cheeks started to heat. “I hope you like it.” “If you wrote it, I’ll love it. I always love what you write,” he grinned crookedly. “How do you know what I write?” I asked curiously. Jude chuckled, scratching his jaw. “I happen to find reading the school paper highly entertaining.” “Really?” I asked, my eyes widening. “No,” he shook his head, and dark strands of hair fell into his eyes, “I only ever read the articles you write.” “You’re messing with me,” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest. “No, I’m definitely not,” he laughed.  “Name an article I wrote,” I countered. I still didn’t believe him and wanted him to prove it. I didn’t care if he read them or not, but since he claimed to I was dying to know. “Hmm,” he thought, watching the road ahead of us, “last month you wrote an article about the merits of the plea bargain. Interesting topic choice, O’Connor.” His grin was wide when he glanced at me. “I can’t believe you read my articles,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Hey, I might have a pretty face,” he rubbed his jaw, “but I’m not stupid.” “Definitely not,” I agreed, not being the least bit sarcastic. We arrived at Griffin’s a few minutes later. “Want to study here for a while?” Jude asked. “Sure, why not,” I shrugged, grabbing my bag. If I didn’t study here, I’d study at home since I didn’t work today, and I really didn’t want to go home. My dad had come home the past few nights, and while he hadn’t said anything to me, his glances were chilling. Jude and I ordered coffee and snacks. I found a quiet table in the back and sat down. I pulled my computer and notes out, getting ready to study once more. Study, study, study. That’s all I seemed to do lately. Graduation couldn’t come fast enough. Jude appeared a few minutes later with our coffee and food. His grin was nearly infectious as he held the steaming cup of coffee out to me. I grabbed my coffee from him and took a large gulp—not caring that I probably scalded my throat in the process. I need the caffeine too bad to care. He chuckled and handed me a cupcake. I’d ordered a sandwich, so he’d added this.  I took the cupcake and devoured it like I’d never eat one again. Caffeine and sugar? I was a happy camper…until I looked at my computer and realized I was nowhere

near done with my papers or studying. It never ended. At this rate I’d be thirty before these papers were done and I only had five more days to finish them.  Jude leaned back in his chair, sipping slowly at his coffee. He appeared relaxed. I knew I should probably take a short break too, before delving in once more, but I didn’t feel like I had time for that. Before I had time to start typing, Jude asked, “So…can I read your paper now?” “Now?” I blanched. “As in right now? Where I have to watch you read it? Uh…” I’d thought maybe I could email it to him later. I wasn’t sure I could stomach watching him read the paper I’d so lovingly worked on. I was terrified that he’d think I hadn’t done the medical field justice and he’d hate it.  “Come on, Tater Tot,” his grin was boyish, “it’s not like I’m going to rip it apart and tell you it’s horrible. After a month of helping you, I’d like to see where all that note taking on your part went.” I sighed, knowing no argument on my part would deter him, and brought up the correct word document on my computer. I turned my computer around to face him and slid it across the table. My heart raced with nerves as his eyes scanned the screen. No one else had laid eyes on my paper yet, and since he was the one responsible, and the reason it took on a new direction, I thought I might pass out as he read it. It was the longest five minutes of my life. “Tate?” He slid my computer back across the table to me and a wrinkle marred his brow. My heart stopped and I bit down on my lip to the point that I tasted blood. He hated it. I knew it. “You know how you told me that you wanted to make a difference with something you wrote?” I nodded my head at his words. “I think you’ve done that with this,” he tapped the open lid of my computer. “Your essay is absolutely beautiful,” his brown eyes were warm. “Thank you for letting me be a part of this.” Relief flooded my veins. Oh thank God he didn’t hate it. He had me really worried there for a minute. “You really like it?” I asked, needing to hear him say it again. “I love it, Tate. You couldn’t have written anything better.” His voice rang with sincerity.  I let out a deep breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in. “Thank you,” I whispered, smiling bashfully. I always got shy after someone read what I’d written. No matter what I wrote, each paper held a part of my soul. I invested so much of myself in it and always feared that it would be rejected. I understood that rejection was a fact of life, but it’s not always easy to handle when it comes to something so personal. “I’m really happy you love it, Jude.” “You know,” he paused to take a sip of coffee, “I think you should print it off so I can take it to Mr. Jenkins. He asked me about you every time I saw him this week. He likes you and he’d want to read this.” “I can do that,” I smiled, relaxing a bit and taking a bite of my sandwich—I probably should’ve saved my cupcake for after the sandwich, but my sweet tooth couldn’t wait. “I really need to see about volunteering after graduation so I can visit him.” “Yes, you do,” Jude agreed, stifling a yawn. “Man,” he scrubbed his hands over his face, “I’m so exhausted I feel like I’m starting to see things.” “I know what you mean,” I agreed. “No, seriously, that guy looks exactly like your dad, but—” I whipped around in my seat to see my dad sitting at one of the tables, chatting with some woman who looked like she was barely thirty years old. He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. I cringed, bile rising in my throat. I turned back around before he could see me. “Yeah, that’s my dad.” “Shiiiit,” Jude cursed. “I really thought I was seeing things. Honest.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not mad,” I sighed tiredly, “I’m just…done. I’m done with the whole thing. I’m mad at him, but not for that.” I shook my head, taking a deep breath. “How dare he think he can lecture me on my love life when he’s nothing but an asshole and a cheat,” I spat. “Tate…” Jude said my name slowly, like he knew something bad was coming. I could feel my anger rising inside me, boiling over to volcanic levels. Oh, yeah. I was about to lose it. It was bound to happen eventually. Too bad it couldn’t have happened behind closed doors. Nope, instead I was about to go batshit crazy in public.  “Grab my stuff, and get out of here,” I warned Jude. “What are you going to do?” He asked, his face paling. “Tatum, he’s not worth it.” I ignored Jude and picked up my coffee cup. I only had to hope he did as I asked, or I was screwed.

I marched over to my dad and the woman. I forced the sweetest smile on my face I could muster. “Hi,” I said, and both their heads whipped up to look at me. Confusion laced the woman’s face, while my dad looked pissed. Gotcha. “Uh…do I know you?” The woman asked me. She had blonde hair, but unlike mine it was obviously fake, and judging from the size of her breasts those were fake too. Great taste dad, I thought to myself, if you were going to cheat on your mental wife you could’ve picked someone a little more…I don’t know, real. “I’m his daughter.” I grinned and nodded my head at daddy-dearest.  “Oh,” her mouth parted and she started spewing out all these silly excuses for why they were together. “Look,” I held up a hand to shut up her insane babbling, “I honestly don’t care what y’all are doing, and it’s obvious what that is, I just came over to tell my daddy that he’s an asshole and he can choke on his tongue and die.” I smiled manically and before I lost my nerve I threw my coffee at him. The lid flew off and coffee splattered all over his suit, the table, and Malibu Barbie—that was the nickname I’d given his mistress in my head.  “Bye, daddy,” I sing-songed before running for the door. Jude stood there with both our bags in his hands, his mouth hanging open. He was shell-shocked. I pushed his shoulder roughly. “Run!” I screamed. That got him moving. We ran as fast and hard as we could to his truck, not daring to look behind us. When we were in the truck, he locked the doors, and sped out of the parking lot and down the street. We saw my dad standing on the street, chest heaving like a bull, and drenched in coffee.  I laughed until tears ran down my cheeks. “God that felt so good!” I cried, looking out the back window at my dad’s retreating form. I knew I should’ve been fearful of how my dad would retaliate, and I would be later, but right now I felt giddy. Almost like I was high.  “I can’t believe you did that,” Jude laughed too. “Remind me to never piss you off.” I expected Jude to take me back to the library, but he didn’t.  Fifteen minutes later we pulled into the driveway of the townhouse he shared.  “What are we doing here?” I asked. He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Do you really think I’m going to let you go home after that display? You need to give your dad a few days to cool off.” His jaw clenched and he stared out the window for a moment before his gaze met mine. His eyes were dark and his face was shadowed with worry. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.” “I can look out for myself,” I whispered. He picked up my folded hand and kissed the top. “You might be tough, Tate, but there are some things even you can’t fight. I experienced your dad firsthand. He wouldn’t think twice about hurting you. Seriously hurting you.” I grew quiet, nibbling on my bottom lip. “Fine, two days tops.” I held up two fingers and waved them around. “Then I’m going back home and you’re not to say anything. Deal?” He clenched his teeth and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “I don’t like it, but deal.” “I don’t have any clothes,” I frowned. Jude’s eyes brightened as he grinned. “That is not a problem.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think you want me going to school naked.” “True,” he agreed. “We’ll figure something out. I’m sure Rowan would bring you some clothes to wear. Y’all are about the same size. I’m definitely not letting you go into that house tonight.” “Aww,” I smiled, “look at you being all protective.” “This isn’t a joke, Tatum,” he sobered, “he could hurt you.” I bowed my head and my shoulders fell slack. “Yeah, I know.” It was easier to make a joke and pretend the situation wasn’t as serious as it was.  Jude hopped out of the truck and grabbed his backpack. I did the same, following him inside. Inside we found Dylan and a guy I hadn’t met yet playing Xbox in the family room. Neither of them looked up when we entered the room. “You’ve met Dylan,” Jude said, “and that’s Grant,” he pointed at the other guy. Grant had a sweet face, floppy brown hair, and wore thick-framed black glasses on the end of his nose. “He lives here

too.” To the guys he asked, “Where’s Jacob?” “Who knows,” Dylan replied with a shrug, his eyes never leaving the video game. Jude shook his head and we headed upstairs to his room. It was only eight o’ clock in the evening, but I felt like I could sleep for years. All the studying, paper writing, and the event with my dad had zapped my energy.  “You want to call Rowan?” Jude asked, stripping his shirt off and working on his belt buckle as he head towards the bathroom. “It’s getting kind of late.” I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called her. The shower started and then Jude reappeared, kicking off his shoes and jeans. His boxers soon joined them in a pile on the floor and I instantly became distracted by his naked body. “Hello? Hello? Tatum? Are you there?” I shook my head and turned away. Jude chuckled, knowing he’d succeeded in distracting me.  “Oh, sorry. Uh…” I couldn’t remember why I called. Oh. Clothes. Right. “I hate to ask you this, but I was wondering if I could borrow some of your clothes?” “Of course, but why?” She sounded worried, not curious. I bit my lip and mumbled, “Um, something happened with me and my dad so I’m staying with Jude for a few days while it blows over. He doesn’t want me going home to grab any clothes, so you’re kinda my only hope right now.” Rowan laughed. “I’ll bring stuff over within an hour.” “Thank you so much,” I told her, and meant it. I didn’t know what I’d do without Rowan as my best friend—my only friend, but when one friend was as amazing as her you didn’t need anymore. “You don’t need to thank me, Tate, but you’re welcome.” We hung up and I tossed my phone on the bed. I jumped when a hand came around my stomach. I thought Jude had already gotten in the shower. I was pulled against his body and I leaned my head back against his chest, letting out a happy sigh. He pulled my shirt off my shoulder and kissed the exposed skin there. My body relaxed against him and my mind began to float away. It was like with each kiss he took my breath away. His hands slid underneath my shirt, pulling the fabric away from my body. He pulled it up and over my head and tossed it in the corner. “Jude.” I wasn’t sure if I was pleading with him to stop, or to keep going. I guessed it didn’t matter. He drew lazy circles on my bare stomach, still kissing my neck. His body was warm against mine and I found my eyes closing. My bra fell to the ground and soon my shorts and panties joined them. I protested no more. I needed him. He turned me around so that we were front to front. His hot skin seared the palms of my hands where they rested against his chest.  He lowered his head and gave me a heated look before capturing my lips. My legs went out from under me and he carried me into the bathroom. “Screw the shower,” he growled as he set me down. He reached over and turned the water from the shower to the faucet. He reached down and pushed in the plug so the water would hold in the bathtub. “Girls love baths, right?” He asked, his brows furrowing as if he suddenly seemed unsure.  I nodded, letting out a giggle. “Yeah.” “Good,” he grinned. He moved closer to me, as if he was going to start kissing me again, but stopped himself. “Bubbles. We need bubbles.” He looked around the bathroom, coming up empty. “Shit,” he cursed. “What’s a romantic bubble bath without bubbles?” He put his hands on his hips, unembarrassed to be standing in front of me completely naked. Then again, I wasn’t trying to hide my nakedness either. Jude made me comfortable in my own skin. I didn’t feel like I needed to hide from him. Suddenly he snapped his fingers together. “Grant’s girlfriend stays here a lot. There might be some in his room.”  He started to walk out of the bathroom, but I called him back. “Jude?” “Yeah?” He turned around.

“You might want to grab a towel,” I laughed. He looked down at himself and grinned. “Oh yeah. That might be a good idea.” I grabbed one of the fluffy white towels and tossed it at him. He tied it around his waist and it should’ve been illegal how good he made that towel look. I closed the bathroom door just in case someone besides Jude showed up, and waited for him to return. It didn’t take long. “Aha!” He chanted, opening the bathroom door and holding up a bottle of lavender scented bubbles proudly. “Found some.” He poured a generous amount into the steaming water and it started to foam. He hung the towel up and reached for my hand. He climbed in first and I sat down in front of him. He pulled my back against his chest as the water sloshed around us.  “You know what would make this better?” I asked, suppressing a laugh. “What?” He asked as his fingers glided over top of the skin on my shoulder. “A rubber ducky.” He laughed heartily at that. “I’ll remember that for next time.” “Next time?” My brows rose in surprise. “This is kind of nice,” he wiggled around, “we should make it a rule that we take a bath together once a week, sort of like the no pants thing—which I have to add, we haven’t done yet. What’s up with that?” “You are…” I shook my head, at a loss for words. I finally settled on, “One of a kind, Jude Brooks.” “What’s the point in being like everyone else?” He asked, leaning back and pressing a hand to my stomach so I went with him. Water sloshed out the side and I reached up with my foot to shut it off before we made an even bigger mess. “I like being me.” I tilted my head back and lifted to place a light kiss on his heavily stubbled jaw. “I like you too.” “You do, Tate?” He grinned, his hands sliding up my body to cup my breasts. “Do you really like me?” He gave them a squeeze and I let out a moan I couldn’t contain.  I nodded my head. “Say it,” he growled, nipping my earlobe. “I want to hear you say it.” “I really like you,” I panted, unable to catch my breath. It was completely unfair that with a few simple touches he could make me want him so much. In fact, it scared the crap out of me just how much he affected me.  “I really like you too, Tate,” he whispered in my ear. Suddenly his hands were gone from my body and he started playing with my hair. “Let’s talk,” he said, bringing the blonde strands up and rubbing his fingers against the back of my neck. “Talk? About what?” I asked. “I don’t know.” I felt him shrug. “Anything. I haven’t seen you much this week, we’ve both been so busy. Don’t get me wrong,” he whispered low in my ear, “I love having sex with you, but you and I… we’re so much more than the physical.” His words made me feel giddy and I couldn’t help smiling. “Well, for starters, I love my job.” “That’s great.” He started rubbing my shoulders, which were tight with tension from all the stress of the past week. “You should make me a cupcake with gummy bears.” I laughed. “Lucinda won’t let me make cupcakes yet, I’m still learning that part, but they don’t have a gummy bear cupcake anyway.” He tsked. “That’s not cool. Gummy bears deserve a cupcake.” “I’ll let her know.” I relaxed my head against his chest and lifted my eyes to look at him. I reached up and ran a finger along the strong line of his jaw. “You do that,” he grinned down at me, “and I expect to be the test subject that gets to try every single one until you get it right. Gummy bears deserve no less than perfection.” “Deal,” I smiled. “You know, this is really nice.” “I’m glad you think so,” he agreed. “Can you believe graduation is in two weeks?” I asked. “It seems so soon and finals aren’t even over yet. I think they’re trying to kill us.” Jude laughed. “Yeah, it feels that way. But it’ll be worth it when we stride across that podium and get

our diploma. It’s time to start the rest of our lives.” “It scares me,” I admitted, picking up some bubbles and blowing them away. “What does?” “Life,” I whispered. He chuckled. “I think everyone is scared of life, at least a little. Although, I think it’s less about life and more about failing. We only have one chance to live our life and if we don’t do it right, it’s gone. That’s a scary thing to think about.” “I’m scared I’m like my dad.” The moment the words left my lips I started to cry as the fear consumed me. I was so terrified of being like him, of hurting the ones I loved, and letting my anger get the best of me. “Oh, Tate,” Jude wrapped his arms around me from behind and more water sloshed over the sides. We were going to have a mess to clean up. “You’re nothing like that man. You’re stubborn, true, but being stubborn is nothing like being an asshole and that’s what he is. But you’re so much more than that feisty, tough girl. You’re brilliant. And kind. And caring. And loving. And beautiful. And a million other things that make you, you.” He lowered his head and nuzzled my neck before kissing the skin there. “You’re amazing. Don’t ever doubt that. Everyone has faults, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.” The tears came harder now and I flipped around so we were facing each other—and there went more water over the side. I reached my arms up around his neck and clung to him. He wrapped his arms around me and let me cry, kissing the top of my head before resting his chin there.  When I’d cried all my tears, I pulled away and wiped at my damp face. “Thank you. Thank you for always making me feel better when I’m at my worst.” He reached up and cupped my cheek. “I’d do anything for you, Tate.  Sincerity shown in his eyes and I knew his words were the truth. “Back at ya, Brooks.”

THE NEXT DAY WAS spent going to class, and studying. Study. Study. Study. If I never saw another textbook again, it wouldn’t be soon enough. I was tempted to chuck the one I was currently reading from at Jacob’s head. I wasn’t sure why Jude had thought studying at his place was such a great idea. As promised, I was staying here again tonight, but I swore I was going back home tomorrow. Jude had pouted at me when I told him I couldn’t stay here forever. His adorable pouty lip had started to crumble my defenses, but I stood strong.  It was weird though; while our relationship was new I couldn’t help feeling like I’d known him forever. Jude and I shared a soul deep connection that many never found. It was the kind of connection I’d been envious of Rowan and Trent having.  “Jacob, shut up,” Jude slapped his hands against the kitchen table where we were gathered. Grant and his girlfriend were in the living room and I heard the sounds of her giggles.  Dylan slammed the lid of his laptop closed and thrust his fingers through his hair so it stuck up wildly around his head. “Dude, we’re all fucking exhausted. I think we should take a break and go out for a while. I’m so done with this.” “Yeah,” Jacob agreed. “We can only study so much, and I swear after graduation I’m throwing the biggest party we’ve ever had. I need a little fun in my life.” Jude sighed and looked at me. “What do you say? Should we take a break?” The sensible part of me knew I should keep studying until I fell over, but I honestly couldn’t take another minute of it. “Let’s go.” “Yes!” Dylan and Jacob high-fived. We didn’t waste any time in leaving. The guys wanted to go to a bar, so that’s where we ended up. I was finally introduced to Grant’s girlfriend. Her same was Anna and she seemed nice enough, but maybe a bit of an airhead. Then again, maybe she only looked that way because she was googly-eyed over Grant. I looked over at Jude who sat beside me at the large booth. I really hoped I didn’t act like that around him. The guys ordered a bunch of food, everything from nachos to potato skins to barbeque wings. They dug in and I quickly grabbed enough for myself before it disappeared. The bar was loud and the crowd was a mix of young and old. Most people looked a little…rough…and I would’ve been uneasy if it wasn’t for Jude and the guys. Jude finished eating and wiped his hands on a napkin. Pointing across the room to an area I couldn’t see from where I sat, he asked, “Wanna play a game of pool?” I looked up at him and grinned. “Can we play against each other?” “One on one?” He clarified and I nodded. “Sure, but do you know how to play?” I tamped down my smile. “A little. I’m not that good, but I don’t want you to use this as an opportunity to rub up on me while you pretend to teach me.”

He chuckled. “I’d never do that to you, Tater Tot.” I snorted. “Yeah, right.” “Okay, maybe a little rubbing,” he chuckled, lifting his thumb and forefinger up a centimeter apart, “but it’s only because your ass is amazing.” I rolled my eyes and slid out of the booth. “I think we should make things interesting.” “How so?” He narrowed his eyes, and by this time the guys were listening with interest. “A bet,” I grinned. “You seem to like bets, Jude,” I tilted my head to the side, waiting for a reaction. His eyes narrowed.  “Tell me about this bet.” He stood and crossed his arms over his chest, his hip leaning against the side. “What do you get if you win?” “Hmmm,” I tapped a finger against my lip. “If I win the game…well, I’ll figure out what I want later. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to win. I have no clue how to play this game. What do you want if you win?” I asked. His lips quirked with interest. “I feel like I’m being played, sweetheart.” I shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to play to find out.” He shook his head. “You’re up to something.” “Come on, Jude, tell me what you want?” I grinned. He chuckled, his lips quirking up. “No. If you’re not telling me what you get if you win, then I’m not telling you.” “Fair enough,” I agreed and followed him across the room to the pool tables. We had to wait a few minutes for one to free up. Jacob, Grant, Dylan, and Anna watched from the sidelines with interest. Well, the guys did. Anna clung to Grant and looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. I couldn’t blame her, the bar certainly wasn’t the nicest place, but I was determined to have a good time. Jude got everything set up and for my first few shots I pretended to have no clue what I was doing to put him at ease. Then, when he felt comfortable, I made quick work of sinking the balls into the nets. He had no idea what hit him. When I was done I held the pool stick proudly and grinned at his mystified look. “And that, Brooks, is how you play pool.” The guys busted out laughing and clapped at the display. Other people in the bar came to investigate what had happened.   Jude’s mouth hung open and he shook his head roughly. “I should be pissed, because you totally played me, but that was so fucking hot that I just want to throw you on this table and fuck you senseless.” I startled at his words, I hadn’t been expecting that, but then when I started imagining what he could do to me on that table I got all kinds of excited.  He bowed down, to which I laughed, and then said, “Well, you won, tell me what you want.” “I just wanted to make you sweat,” I strode forward and patted his chest as I gazed up at him, “the real reward was seeing your face when I won.” Lowering my voice so that no one else could hear, I said, “Although, what you suggested sounded appealing.” He growled low in his throat and grabbed me around my waist. “That can be arranged.” He nipped at the skin where my neck met shoulder. “Uh, guys,” Dylan cleared his throat, snapping us back to reality. With Jude it was all too easy to forget everything else and only think of him.  I took a step back from him in the hopes that it would clear my head.  I turned to the guys and said, “Y’all want to play teams?” “Sure,” they agreed. It ended up with Jude and Jacob against Dylan and me. Grant and Anna decided to head out. We played game after game and I couldn’t remember the last time I had smiled or laughed with other people like that. I really liked Dylan and could even see myself becoming friends with him. I still wasn’t that fond of Jacob, but he was growing on me. He was a bit of a loud mouth and that tended to get on my nerves. As we headed out of the bar to return home Dylan put his arm around my shoulders and said to Jude, “I like her, don’t fuck this up.” “Not a chance,” Jude chuckled. Knocking his friend’s arm off my shoulders, he narrowed his eyes, “Keep your hands off my girl.”

Dylan chuckled and jogged ahead of us. He turned around to face us, walking backwards, “Jude Brooks getting jealous because I touched his girl…never thought I’d see the day.” Dylan winked at me and I smiled back. We’d gone in separate cars so I counted it as a blessing that I didn’t have to listen to Jacob fill every second with the sound of his voice.  In the truck, I leaned my head on Jude’s shoulder as he drove. “Did you have fun?” He asked as headlights lit up the cab of the truck. “Yeah. Your friends are cool,” I yawned.  “Tired?” “Exhausted,” I amended, yawning again. Hanging out with the guys and getting a much-needed break had been fun, but now all I wanted to do was sleep. He began to hum and in no time I was asleep. I was awakened a little while later by Jude grabbing me from the truck and carrying me inside. “I can walk. I’m heavy,” I protested, but instead of trying to pull out of his arms I snuggled closer. Why did he have to smell so delicious? And feel so good? Despite his muscular stature he was really quite cuddly. Jude chuckled and his lips brushed against my ear. “You’re not heavy, Tate.” My body jostled as he carried me upstairs. He laid me down on his bed and proceeded to take my shoes, pants, and top off. He went to his dresser and grabbed one of his t-shirts. Returning to me, he unhooked my bra and slid the shirt on. He let out a satisfied growl when he stepped back to appraise me.  “My girl, in my bed, in my clothes…I think we need to make a habit of this.” His eyes grew dark with lust. I lay down, stretching out my legs and drew the sheets over me. Snuggling against the Jude scented pillow I yawned, “Whatever you say.” I was too tired to argue with him, and his shirt was so soft anyway that I doubted he’d ever get it back. He’d have to wrestle me for it…now that had fun written all over it. Jude stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed behind me. He pulled my body against his, and I curled around him, entwining our legs together.  Never in a million years did I imagine I’d be sleeping in Jude Brooks’ bed, but I guessed crazier stuff had happened.

“I’M NOT LETTING YOU go inside by yourself.” Jude protested when we pulled up to my house. I unbuckled my seatbelt and let out a sigh at his protective caveman demeanor. “I’ll be fine.” “No way,” he shook his head, dark strands of hair falling into his eyes. “I’m going in with you, or you’re not going in at all.” So bossy. “Fine,” I slid out of the truck. I pulled out my house key and headed inside. My mom stood in the living room, looking out the window at nothing…of course. Jude followed behind me and stopped when he spotted her. After a momentary pause, he resumed his pace behind me and said nothing about what he saw. I was thankful for that. I’d already told him enough that he knew how she was, but it wasn’t something I wanted to discuss. I’d only get upset…or angry. I went into the kitchen first and there he was, sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning paper and sipping coffee. He was the picture of ease and it pissed me off. My fists clenched at my sides. Jude grabbed my hand, unfurling it and slipping his inside. Once his fingers were wrapped around mine he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I took a deep breath and braced my shoulders before squeezing his hand lightly in acknowledgement. I was strong. I could do this. I would not let this man get the best of me. I sat down at the table across from my father and Jude took the seat beside me. The table was round and the way we sat Jude was between us. His presence alone acted as a buffer. My dad had already expressed his dislike of Jude, but after their last encounter in my room I thought maybe he knew

better than to mess with Jude.  My dad had yet to look up from the newspaper, but from the visible tightness in his shoulders I knew he was very much aware of our presence. When more time past and he refused to acknowledge either of us, I cleared my throat. “Hello, dad.” “Tatum.” The venom with which he said my name felt like a slap to the face. This was my dad—the man who’d read me bedtime stories and taught me to ride a bike. He looked like everyone else’s dad. Nice. Normal. Safe. But a monster lurked behind his eyes. I’d pretended not to notice it before. It was so much easier to lie to myself than to face the truth, but I couldn’t avoid it forever. I knew now, that evil didn’t lie in obvious places. It was anyone and anything. It hid behind pretty faces as much as ugly ones. It was everywhere and inescapable. “Have you come to apologize after your…episode…at the coffee shop the other day?” His tone was calm, but in his eyes I could see the anger. He flattened his hands against the table, smoothing out a wrinkle in the paper. A single brow rose on his forehead as he waited for my answer. When I refused to speak, he added, “You owe me a new suit.” Beneath the table my hand tightened painfully around Jude’s. I wouldn’t have been surprised if my fingernails drew blood.  “I owe you nothing.” I spat—and there went my anger getting the best of me once more. I couldn’t control it, and maybe my father couldn’t either.  He brought a hand to his face, tapping his chin. Slowly, he turned to look at Jude. “I think this…young man,” he said, and I got the impression he’d very much wanted to say something else, “has been a bad influence on you, Tatie. You used to be such a sweet little girl.” I flinched at the use of my old family nickname. It didn’t feel right coming from my dad, not anymore —not after all the damage that had been done.  “I used to be naïve,” I countered. “There’s a difference.” He clucked his tongue. “The older you get, the more you act like your brother. He didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut either.” “Do not,” I hissed, coming to a stand so fast that the chair clattered to the floor, “talk about my brother like that.” He simply tilted his head, studying me. “I don’t think there’s a law against me talking about my own son.” I lost it.  Slapping my hand sharply against the table, I screamed, “You killed him! It’s your fault! He killed himself because of you! You drove him to madness and now you’re doing it to me too!” I tore at my hair, ripping some strands from my scalp. “Tate—” Jude started. My dad came to stand as well, glaring at me across the table. “Tatum,” he growled harshly, “your brother was in a car accident. I had nothing to do with that.” “Yes, you did!” I screamed and it was so high-pitched sounding that I was surprised the glass in the windows didn’t shatter. “He killed himself because of you.” Tears ran in a torrent down my face. I wiped them away, but they just kept coming. “You’re crazy, Tatum,” my dad said in a surprisingly calm tone. I wasn’t crazy, and I was going to prove it. I ran from the kitchen and up to my room to retrieve the letter. Jude was behind me, not daring to let me go on my own. “Tatum,” he said once we were in my room and I opened the top drawer of my nightstand to grab the letter, “I think you need to grab stuff and let’s get out of here. You can’t stay here.” “I don’t have a choice,” I whispered.  “There’s always a choice,” he countered. “What am I supposed to do?” I asked, clutching the letter against my heart. “Live with you? Become your burden? I refuse to do that,” I shook my head harshly. “I’ll figure it out on my own.” Jude blocked the door with his body so that I couldn’t leave my room unless I drop kicked him, which I wasn’t opposed to if he didn’t move. “Tate, you don’t have to always do things on your own. You have people that care about you. I care about you. Why can’t you believe that?” My chest heaved as I struggled to get enough air. I didn’t know when I’d ever been as mad or upset as I was now. “It’s not about believing it. I know you care about me. I care about you too, but that isn’t always enough. I’m not your responsibility.”

“I want you to be, dammit!” He screamed. “Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn that you can’t see what’s standing right in front of you?!” “And what’s standing right in front of me, Jude? Enlighten me, please.” I crossed my arms over my chest.  “A guy that cares about you,” he pointed to his chest, “so much that it scares him more than anything. A guy that only wants the best for you, no matter what that is. A guy that wants to protect you. A guy that just wants your heart,” he whispered the last part, bowing his head. “Jude,” I begged, “please, don’t do this. I can’t hear this right now. I just can’t.” He sighed and stepped away from the door. “I wish you’d stop being afraid of your own feelings,” he groaned. “They’re not going to blow up in your face.” I started out the door and turned back to face him. “I don’t know that. There’s no guarantee that someone else won’t catch your interest tomorrow and I’ll become a distant memory to you. You told me I had to save myself, and that’s what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to be a better, stronger person. I’m trying to find me, before I allow myself to depend on someone else,” I waved a hand at him. “Look at my family,” I spread my arms wide, “they’ve done nothing but let me down. I’ve been hurt, deeply. Please,” I begged, “please, don’t be mad at me for this, but I can’t do this right now.” “It’s not like you’d have to live with me forever,” he whispered, “not if you didn’t want to. It could be a temporary thing until you got your own place, or you could stay if you wanted. It would all be up to you. But you have to get out of this house, Tate. It’s toxic. It’s killing you, can’t you see that?” I nodded. “I know, but I can’t leave yet.” His jaw clenched and he mumbled something about me being too stubborn for my own good. He was probably right. I headed back downstairs and Jude followed. I half expected my dad to have left, but he was still there. I threw the letter at him and warned, “So help me God if you ruin that letter I will kill you slowly and painfully.” Jude chuckled behind me, but I was dead serious. That letter was my last tie to my brother and I wouldn’t let him destroy it. He picked it up carefully and ran his fingers over the now yellowed pages. His eyes scanned every word, and then went back to read it again, and again. “No,” he whispered putting the letter down on the table. “No,” he repeated, shaking his head. His eyes were troubled and for the first time in a long time he looked human. There wasn’t an angry snarl on his face, or a fake smile. Just…shock. “No,” he whispered yet again. He pulled the chair out and sat down once more. “I…I can’t believe this. What have I done?” “Believe it,” I snapped. He put his head in his hands and sobbed. Like gut-wrenching, body shaking, sobs. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I even rubbed them and blinked several times to make sure it wasn’t a mirage. Nope. The man was crying. I hadn’t heard him cry since the night the cops showed up to tell us Graham was dead. I stood shell-shocked, clueless as to what I should do. Jude came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, laying his head on top of mine. Minutes past before my dad wiped his eyes and lifted his head to look at me. “I’m so sorry, Tatie.” An apology. I hadn’t expected that at all. I didn’t know what to do, so I nodded my head and that seemed to be enough for him.  He stood and pushed the chair into the table. He handed me back the letter and said, “I need a minute. Excuse me.” He passed by us and headed down the hall to where his office sat. Jude guided me into the living room and sat me down. My mom had moved from the window to one of the chairs and now stared at the ceiling. I clutched the letter tightly between my fists like it was the only thing keeping me from falling to pieces. Jude sat down beside me and brought my body into his arms. I wrapped mine around his neck. I didn’t cry. I wasn’t sure there were any tears left in me at this point, but I needed to be held. I needed

the comfort another person’s arms provided. Jude murmured sweet things in my ear, but I couldn’t comprehend any of them. I was in a state of shock from the events that had transpired. He rubbed my back soothingly, but the gesture did nothing to calm me. From where I sat on his lap I could see my father approach. I stood up hastily and smoothed down my shirt, just to have something to do with my hands. I felt fidgety and nervous. I had no idea what to expect from him, because his reaction hadn’t been anything like I anticipated. He stood in the doorway for a moment, rubbing his jaw absentmindedly. Jude stood beside me and took my hand in a show of solidarity. He wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what was said. My dad nodded slowly, as if he was agreeing with his thoughts. He brought his head up and his eyes connected with my own. He took a deep breath before speaking. “I…I…” He seemed at a loss for words. “My anger has always been an issue for me, from the time I was a boy. I had good days, and bad days…very bad days,” he added, his voice dropping low. I was surprised by how calm he sounded, compared to all the yelling we’d done earlier. “Your brother’s letter…God, I can’t even tell you what I felt reading that.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was a much-needed wake up call, I can tell you that much. I need help,” he whispered, his eyes lowering. “I’m going to get help,” he added with surety. He turned his head towards my mom. “I’m going to see what I can do for her too.” Scratching his jaw, he said, “I don’t really know what to say to you, Tate, except I’m sorry and I know that will never be good enough. Not for what happened with Graham, or what I’ve done to you, but I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” My mouth fell open in shock. Was this a dream? He was going to try to get help?  “Wow, um…” “You don’t need to say anything,” he shrugged, cutting me off. “I just wanted you to know. I already found a place, while I was on my computer, and I’m going to be checking in there tonight. It’s sort of like rehab, but for people like me.” He turned to leave and then stopped, turning back. His eyes grew sad. “I know you don’t want to hear this, and hell, you might not even believe me, but I love you.” With that, he walked out of the room and back to his office. “Tate?” Jude said my name softly. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did that really just happen?” “It really did,” he assured me. “Maybe…maybe things will get better now?” I meant it as a statement, but it came out sounding like a question. I looked up at him with pleading eyes. I felt like a small child, needing someone to reassure me.  “Maybe.” But the tone of his voice said that he didn’t think so. I had to hold on to hope, because somewhere inside me was a small little girl desperate to have her mom and dad back. I had to believe it would all be okay.

THE NEXT WEEK WENT by faster than I thought possible. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. I’d waited my whole life for this one moment.  The moment I’d stride across the stage, grab my diploma, and become a college graduate. From this moment on, I was out in the real world.  There was no more messing around.  This was the first day of the rest of my life. I reached up and adjusted the black cap so that it sat straight on top of my head. I took a deep, steadying breath. “You did it, Tate,” I said to my reflection, forcing a smile. Despite my excitement for graduation I also felt an overwhelming sadness. Anytime I’d pictured this day, my mom, dad, and brother were there in the audience cheering me on. No one would be there for me today. My mom was currently off somewhere getting counseling—I doubted it would help though. My dad was in anger management. And my brother was dead. I was all alone in this world. Except for my friends and Jude. Thank God for them. I took the cap off and smoothed my hair down. I had to get to campus before I was late. On my way out, I stopped in the doorway of Graham’s room. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, picturing him as I remembered. I hoped that wherever he was that he was watching over me today. I needed him to be there. Opening my eyes, I said, “I love you, Graham.”  Warmth filled my body, and maybe it was crazy, but I knew he was giving me a sign that he was there. When I got to campus I texted Jude and he let me know where he was. When I found him, he stood with his roommates—who were also graduating—and Rowan. Trent was nowhere to be seen and I figured he’d already taken the kids and sat down for the ceremony. “Hey guys,” I smiled as I approached. Despite my sadness, I refused to let that ruin my day. Today was meant for celebrating and that’s what we were going to do—or at least that’s what Jacob kept saying. He swore the party he and the guys were throwing tonight was going to be epic.  “Well, if it isn’t my favorite girl.” Dylan grabbed me around the waist and spun me around. “Put her down,” Jude growled warningly. “I won’t hesitate to punch you.” Dylan chuckled and set me down. He whispered in my ear, “He’s just afraid you’re going to wake up one day and realize you like me more.”

“Shut up,” Jude seethed, having heard what his friend said. Dylan laughed and ran away. Jude didn’t bother to run after him. I’d discovered Dylan loved to get Jude riled up over me. I thought it might’ve become Dylan’s new favorite hobby, and I had to admit that Jude’s overreactions were often times comical.  “He’s pissing me off,” Jude muttered, bringing me against his side. I laughed, smiling up at him. “He’s your best friend. He just likes to mess with you.” “Yeah, well two can play that game,” Jude looked off into the distance where Dylan had disappeared, “don’t be surprised if he’s sporting blue hair one day.” “Blue hair?” I asked, suppressing another laugh and failing. Leave it to the guys to make me feel better when I was having such a shitty day. “Yeah,” Jude nodded. “I’m putting hair dye in his shampoo tonight for that one. I think blue would be fitting.” “Pink would be better,” I told him. He chuckled, his eyes lightening. “I love the way you think. Pink it is.” “You’re not really going to dye his hair?” I sobered. Jude shrugged. “Just act surprised.” “Jude!” I shrieked, giving him a light smack against his ribs. “You better not.” He shrugged and mumbled, “He deserves it.” Oh, good Lord.  “You’re terrible.” “Hey,” he let go of me, raising his hands innocently, “the fucker is asking for it.” Rowan laughed, shaking her head at us. “You two are too much sometimes.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. She shrugged lightly, combing her fingers through her long, light brown hair. “Just that you two are absolutely perfect for each other. It’s kinda creepy.” Jude chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “I bet you’re regretting pushing us together now, aren’t you.” “Not at all,” she smiled. They called for us to start lining up, and my heart jolted. This was it. We walked together over to where they were putting us in alphabetical order. “Hey,” Jude said, his voice low. “Yeah?” I looked up at him, and was once again struck by how crazy it was that he was mine. I hadn’t wanted any guy, especially not Jude, but here we were and I was quickly finding myself unable to imagine my life without him. It was scary and exhilarating all at once. “You never told me what grade you got on your paper.” I laughed, wondering what had made him think of that today. “An A of course,” I shrugged. “Were you afraid I’d bomb?” “Not at all,” he grinned, “with my help how could you possibly fail?” He joked. “Professor Taylor loved it,” I assured him with a grin on my face. “In fact,” my voice lowered, “I’m not supposed to tell anyone yet, but he knows someone who works at they city newspaper and they want me to shorten it for an article and they’ll publish it.” Jude’s eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. “That’s amazing, Tate!” He cried. “I’m so proud of you!” I squealed, surprising the people around us, when he picked me up and hugged me tightly. When he lowered me, he dipped his head and captured my lips. The kiss started out sweet, but quickly escalated to dangerous levels. “Get a room,” someone coughed. I was pretty sure it was Jacob. I broke the kiss and Jude placed a single light kiss on the end of my nose. He had to leave me then, since they were calling for us to line up and with his last name he was at the beginning of the line. It took a little while to get all of us in order. Once we were in a straight line, it was time for us to enter the lawn and take our seats. Despite knowing no one was there for me, I couldn’t help looking out to the crowd, searching. I spotted Trent waving to Rowan, with Ivy and Tristan beside him, as well as his mom and grandma. 

I didn’t know what Jude’s parents looked like so I didn’t bother searching for them. Besides, they probably weren’t even there.  I took my seat and settled in to listen to all the speeches. They all sounded the same. About how we were all going to leave here and do great things, change the world, blah, blah, and blah. I was tempted to stand up and scream, ‘Give me my diploma and let me leave!’ But I didn’t think that would go over too well, so I kept my mouth shut. Our class was large so once they started calling names I knew we’d still be there a while.  When Jude’s name was called I shot out of my seat and clapped like a maniac. The people beside me looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but I didn’t care one bit. Jude spotted me and dipped his head in acknowledgement, grinning crookedly. Name after name was called out, and then I heard mine. “Tatum Elizabeth O’Connor.” Excitement and nerves filled my belly. I felt sick and high all at once.  I strode across the stage, my head held high. I shook the Dean’s hand and accepted my diploma. As I descended the steps I heard someone yelling. When I looked up I saw Jude and I smiled instantly. But there was someone else yelling too. At first I thought it was Trent, and he was clapping, but he wasn’t doing the hollering. Looking farther into the crowd my eyes fell upon Jude’s grandpa. Tears sprang to my eyes. I’d never imagined he’d be here and I hadn’t heard him when Jude’s name was called, but then I guessed I was yelling too loud myself to hear anything else. I realized then, that I did have a family. They might not have been blood-related, but they were family nonetheless. I took my seat once more with the biggest smile I’d ever worn plastered on my face. The last name was called and the Dean spoke some more before we tossed our caps in the air, just like we had four years prior in high school. Only this time, there was finality to it.  People went in search of their family and I fought against the crowd to find Jude. “Tatum!” I hear my name called, but I couldn’t see him. Finally I spotted him and ran into his arms. “Whoa,” he cried, rocking back on his heels as he caught me. “We did it,” I cried, “we really did it.” “Yes, we did,” he chuckled, spinning me around, his excitement matching mine. “We’re big kids now, Tater Tot.” I swayed dizzily when he set me down. He reached out a hand to steady me. “You okay?” He asked when I was righted. “Yeah,” I grinned, “never been better.” “I need to go find Pap,” he told me as his eyes scanned the crowd. “I saw him cheering for me,” I grinned. “I didn’t think he’d be here.” “I picked him up and brought him. No way was I going to let him miss this.” Jude smiled down at me and reached out to stroke my cheek. The gesture seemed automatic for him. It wasn’t to calm or soothe me. He was touching me simply because he wanted to. “I’m really glad you did,” I took his hand as we pushed our way through the thick crowd of bodies. “It made me happy to see him.” “He was mad at me when I picked him up, because you weren’t with me,” Jude chuckled huskily. “I told him I didn’t want you to know that he’d be here, that you didn’t have any family coming, and I wanted him being here to be a surprise. He was okay after that.” Shaking his head, Jude grinned. “He started yelling at me, actually, when he didn’t see you because he thought I’d done something to piss you off.” “Don’t you visit him without me?” I asked, puzzled.  “Yeah,” he nodded, “but he thought you’d be with me today. Crazy old man. I don’t know what I’d do without him, though.” He quickly sobered, his face growing somber. “Hey,” I reached up and took his cheek in my hand, “let’s not think about that today. Okay?” He looked down at me and nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” He cracked a smile. “Jude!”  We both looked to our right and there was Jerry, standing on top of a chair waving at us. “Pap!” Jude cried, running to his side with worry. “Get down from there! You’re going to hurt yourself!” “Nonsense, boy,” Jerry grumbled when Jude tried to help him down. Jerry swatted Jude’s hand away rather harshly and Jude glared up at him.  “Pap,” he said warningly. “Get down before you break a hip.”

“I’m old,” Jerry grumbled, “not broken. I can get down just fine on my own. I got up here without your help,” he pointed out. Jude shook his head and stepped back, but held his hands out in case he needed to steady his grandpa. Jerry lowered and stepped off the chair. Straightening, he looked at Jude. “See, I’m fine. No broken hip.” Jude let out a disgruntled sigh.  Jerry strode over to me and threw his arms around me. “I’m so proud of you.” “Thank you,” I told him, tearing up a bit. Until he said the words I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear someone say them. Jerry released me and turned to hug Jude. “I’m proud of you too.” He lowered his head and whispered something in Jude’s ear that made him smile. Turning back to me, Jerry said, “Jude told me y’all are having a graduation party and I’m not invited, so I think I should at least be allowed to buy you a late lunch.” I looked at Jude and shrugged. “I don’t mind.” “Lunch it is.” Jerry clapped his hands together before Jude could say anything. We started to head back to the parking lot, there was no point in lingering, when we heard, “Juuuuuuuuuuude.” Jude fell to the ground as Tristan crashed into him. “That’s my boy,” I heard Trent say. Rowan gasped. “Jude, are you okay? I’m so sorry!” Jude rolled over and grabbed Tristan, lifting him in the air easily despite the fact that the boy wasn’t that small anymore. “I’m fine,” Jude assured her, “he just took me by surprise is all.” He set Tristan in the grass and sat up, ruffling the little boy’s hair. “I’m really sorry,” Rowan said again as she approached and reached for her son’s hand, “he wouldn’t listen to me when I told him you were busy.” “It’s fine,” he waved a hand dismissively. He stood and dusted pieces of grass off his gown. “Rowan, this is my grandpa. Pap, this is Rowan, my best friend. Her fiancé Trent, and their son Tristan. And that beauty back there hiding,” he pointed to where Ivy stood a few feet away by a tree, “is Rowan’s sister, Ivy.” “It’s so nice to meet you,” Rowan smiled at Jerry. She let out a squeak in surprise when he hugged her. “We’re heading to get lunch. Would you all like to join?” Jerry asked, nodding at Rowan and her family. Her face fell. “I’d love to, but Trent’s mom is having a meal for us at her house.” “Some other time then,” Jerry smiled. “I must get to know you better.” “Yes, of course,” she agreed. “I’ve got to go.” Trent picked up Tristan and lifted him onto his shoulders as they walked away. “Wait!” Jude called and Rowan turned back. “Are you coming to the party?” “I’m not sure,” she bit her lip. “We’ll try.” Jude nodded and her answer seemed good enough for him. Jerry, Jude, and I started to head towards the parking lot again. This time we made it without any interruptions. There wasn’t enough room for all of us in Jude’s truck, so I followed them to the restaurant in my car. That was fine by me, because I needed to go home and get ready for the party.  Our lunch was short and then it was time for Jude to take Jerry back home. He hugged me tight before leaving and told me he better see me soon for dinner. I agreed. Since Rowan was busy, and not sure if she was coming to the party, I was getting ready by myself tonight. The house was eerily quiet around me as I scrambled around. I found myself speaking out loud just to fill the silence.  After spending most of the day in a nice dress, because we were required to dress formally for the graduation ceremony, I wanted nothing more than to wear shorts and a tank top. So, that’s what I did. Jude wouldn’t care and I had no reason to dress up for anyone else. I left my hair down and touched up my makeup. I still had several hours to kill before leaving for the party. I ended up spending it cleaning the house, since I had nothing better to do.

It came time for me to leave and for the first time ever I was excited for a party. Maybe this time felt different since we were actually celebrating something worthwhile. I parked my car down the street and sent Rowan a text as I walked towards the townhouse, asking if she was coming. She didn’t reply immediately so I stuck my phone in my pocket. I turned my head up to the sky. It was quickly becoming a dark, stormy gray. I wasn’t too thrilled about the prospect of rain, but at least it had held off till after graduation. I bound up the steps and opened the door into the townhouse. The place was already packed. If the guys had another party I was going to have to make sure to get my ass here early. I really hated pushing my way through the crowd. I was pretty sure someone elbowed me in the ribs and I’d have a bruise in the morning. I saw Grant and Anna in the corner of the living room. I lifted my hand and waved, but they didn’t see me. I finally broke through the crowd and into the hallway. I didn’t see Jude anywhere. “Hey,” I grabbed Dylan’s arm when he went to pass me. “Have you seen Jude?” “Oh, yeah,” he smiled, a beer bottle clasped in his hand. “He went up to his room.” “Thanks.” I jogged up the steps, heading to Jude’s room. I was surprised when I saw it open, since he always kept it closed during parties, even when he was inside. I stepped inside his room and froze. Every surface was littered with white rose petals and tea candles he was in the process if lighting. But that wasn’t what had bile rising in the back of my throat. Oh no, that was all because Jude’s arms were wrapped around Brooke, their lips sealed together. I stood shocked, unable to move. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I wanted to pretend it wasn’t real. But it was. Brooke opened her eyes and saw me and I could see the pleasure she felt at destroying my heart. I stepped back and turned to run. My foot got tangled in the laces of my sneakers and I fell down, smacking my knee roughly against the floor. “Tatum—” Hearing his voice was more than I could bear. Especially when I knew if I turned to look he’d be holding her. God, he could’ve had the decency to break up with me and not go behind my back. I was a big girl. I could handle it. Without a backwards glance I took off down the steps. I pushed people out of my way, not caring if I hurt them. I had to get out of there. I refused to cry until I was in the safety of my car. I wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing my tears. “Tatum!” I heard my name called. Not just by Jude this time, who I could tell was close behind me, but Dylan as well. When Dylan saw that I was racing to get out of there and struggling to hold onto my composure, I heard him yell at Jude. “What the fuck did you do?!” “It wasn’t what it looked like!” Jude cried. I wasn’t sure if the words were meant for Dylan or me and I didn’t care. I was almost to the door. I heard a crash behind me, and people gasped. The disruption wasn’t enough to get me to look. I opened the front door and slammed it behind me.  I ran down the street to my car. “Tate—” Rowan. Great. Now everyone was going to be a witness to me getting screwed over. I didn’t stop to look or even acknowledge her. I just kept running. My desperation to get away was all consuming. I reached my car and started it up as quickly as my fumbling fingers could manage.  I kept making the strangest sound I’d ever heard. It was half-gasp, half-cry.

Tears stung my eyes as I raced down the street. I saw Jude running down the sidewalk looking for me and—sick person that I was—I got satisfaction out of imagining running him over…just like he had done to me. I drove home as fast as I could, but it was still the longest fifteen minutes of my life.  I tore inside the empty house and my tears finally began to flood. I gasped for air as I blindly climbed the stairs. I fell to my bed, burying my head in my pillow and sobbed. But then I began to think of Jude being in my room, and in my bed, and I had to get away.  I wrenched out of the bed and grabbed the pillow. I threw it across the room and something shattered. I didn’t know what and I didn’t care. I ran out of my room and into Graham’s. It was one room that would never make me think of Jude, and I felt better in here anyway—like Graham was there to give me a hug and tell me it would be okay. I sat on the floor with my back against his bed. I drew my knees up and wrapped my arms around them. My tears dripped from my chin onto my bare knees. I cried so hard that my whole body shook with the force. I hadn’t cried this hard when Graham died—then, I’d been numb, but now I was cut open painfully. I’d known my feelings for Jude were so intense that it would tear me apart if something happened to us. But I hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction. I’d hoped it would never come to this, but it had. I’d been so stupid to trust him.  I wiped at my eyes, my hands coming away covered in streaks of black from my mascara. The doorbell rang and my whole body stiffened. I knew it was him. It wouldn’t be anyone else. But it was more than that. My body was just that aware of him. I was tuned into the feel of him and I always knew when he was near.  I rose with shaky feet. I took several deep breaths and almost didn’t go to the door. But I needed to.  I took the steps slowly, dreading facing him. When I opened the door he stood there, soaking wet from the rain. He shivered, water dripping off his nose and onto his chin.  “Tate,” my name was no more than a whisper on his lips, and his brown eyes were pained, “I swear to God it wasn’t what you think it was.” My breath shook with barely contained tears. “It was exactly what I saw. I’m not stupid Jude, so don’t treat me like I am. I always figured you’d get bored with me and move on to someone else. I just figured you’d have the courtesy to break up with me first. I guess I was wrong.” Nodding my head towards the road, I started to close the door. “You can leave now.” He slammed his hand against the door and pushed it open completely. He stormed around me and into my house. “I’m not leaving until I can get you to see the truth.” I snorted at that. “I saw the truth, that’s why we’re here in the first place. And if you won’t leave, then I will.” I didn’t have my car keys, but I didn’t care. I walked onto the porch, down the steps, and into the street. It was pouring down rain and I was soaked in seconds.  My hair was plastered to my forehead and I could barely see in front of me the rain fell so hard, but I kept walking. The chill of the rain was nothing compared to the internal pain I felt at the moment. In fact, the harsh sting of the water brought clarity to my muddled brain.  I let out a scream when a hand clamped around my arm. Jude turned me around sharply and gripped my arms roughly in his hands. His fingers dug into my skin and he bared his teeth. He was angry. Pissed. Livid. Whatever you wanted to call it. He looked like he was two seconds away from shaking me. “I fucking love you, Tatum!” He yelled and his words felt like ice on my skin, even colder than the rain.  “Why don’t you try saying that without the fucking in the middle,” I sneered, trying to pull my arms from his grasp but it was futile. He was so much stronger than me and he was determined not to let me go.

He pulled me closer and lowered his forehead to mine. I hated that it felt so good. I wanted to hate everything about him, but I couldn’t.  “I love you,” he said again, his voice low. “I love you. Please,” he swallowed thickly as the rain slicked off his skin beading in his hair and the stubble on his cheeks. He smoothed his hand over my cheek causing me to sigh with pleasure—I couldn’t stop the noise if I tried. His affect on me was too powerful to be ignored. “Don’t do this to us.” I turned my head away and the tears started anew, but since they mixed with the rain and the sky was black he couldn’t see them. “I didn’t do this to us. You did,” I choked. “Did you not hear me, Tate?! I love you! She kissed me! She followed me into my room and kissed me!” His teeth clamped shut and his brows drew together as he willed me to believe him, but I knew what I saw and I couldn’t get that image out of my head. “I want to believe you,” I whispered, biting my lip as the rain fell harder, “but I saw how you held her…” “Fuck, Tate!” He shoved his fingers through his wet hair so it stuck up. “That was me trying to push her away! What will it take to make you see that I only want you?!” He spread his arms wide as the rain pelted his body.  I shook my head. “Jude, I…” I looked down, unable to find the words I needed to say. “I can’t do this.” “What is this?!” He panted, spreading his arms wide. “You can’t let me love you? You can’t be with me? What is it that you can’t fucking do, Tatum?” “I can’t be this girl!” I cried. “The one that turns into an emotional mess, because of some guy! I need to be stronger than that!” I took several steps back, shivering from the cold and nearly fell over from a dip in the street. I wondered if my neighbors were watching the scene playing out before them in the middle of the road. Between the veil of the rain and night sky, I doubted anyone could even see us.  “What the hell is wrong with being upset? Huh? I’m hurt too, Tate! It tore me apart seeing that look on your face…having you run away from me. But loving you makes me a better person. With you, I’m me.” He beat his fist against his chest, as if trying to drive home the point that his heart belonged to me. “Stop it, please,” I sobbed. “Just stop.” The rain felt like thousands of nails piercing my skin repeatedly, but the sting was nothing compared to the damage I felt to my heart. The way I felt right now had me convinced that being heartbroken was worse than any kind of physical torture I could ever be subjected to. I knew I never wanted to feel this way again. I’d been right to guard my heart all these years, and it figured that the guy I’d willingly given it to smashed it to bits.  “Why the fuck should I? It’s the truth.” His chest heaved and his wet shirt clung to every muscle. Despite my anger my fingers itched to reach out and touch him, but I couldn’t. I was letting him go. He wasn’t mine anymore.  “I need you to leave.” I stared at my shoes, because I couldn’t meet his eyes.  “No.” He growled and I saw him take a step towards me. “I didn’t fucking kiss her, Tate, and I’m not leaving here until I get you to understand that.” “Jude, please,” I begged, finally forcing myself to look at him. Rain slid off his face, getting lost in the fabric of his wet t-shirt. “This,” I pointed to him and then myself, “isn’t good for me. You need to go.” “I’m not going anywhere.” He repeated as he closed the distance between us and took my cheek in one hand, pressing my waist against his with the other. “I love you and you’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He lowered his head and captured my lips in a searing kiss that I felt all the way down to my toes. I let my fingers tangle in his hair as I kissed him back. The rain mingled with our kiss, clinging to our lips. I kissed him back with everything I had in me. One last time, I told myself.  He growled low in his throat and his hold on me relaxed. He didn’t know it, but this was me saying goodbye. I broke away and stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “Goodbye, Jude.” Before he could react, I took off running for my house. I slammed the door closed and locked it. My shoes squeaked against the hardwood floors as my back slid down to the floor. My butt hit it roughly and I knew my bottom would hurt later—but everything else hurt, so it didn’t really matter. I started to cry again and Jude rang the doorbell. When that didn’t work he started smacking his fist

against it. “Tatum,” he called through the door. “Please, don’t do this,” he begged. He sounded so torn up, but I couldn’t open the door and comfort him. I couldn’t tell him that it was okay and make all of this go away. The fact of the matter was I realized now that I needed to get stronger on my own and I couldn’t do that with Jude. I wanted to believe that Brooke had kissed him and he hadn’t meant for it to happen, but I knew what I saw and right now I was too upset to think logically. Love made you crazy, and I was the craziest of them all. “Tate,” he cried, hitting his fist against the door again and again. I didn’t move for hours, and neither did he. He stayed outside the door waiting for me to open it up—to change my mind—but I never did. Eventually I heard the sounds of his footsteps on the stairs of the porch.  I forced myself to stand and I looked out the window, watching him get in his truck and leave. My heart broke all over again as I watched the taillights on his truck disappear down the street.  How had one of the best days of my life turned into the worst?

SOMEHOW I’D MANAGED TO get myself upstairs and climb in bed—Graham’s bed, because I wasn’t planning on going back in my room anytime soon. My mom probably would’ve snapped out of her… well, whatever strange in-between state she was in…and had a conniption if she’d seen that I had disturbed the shrine my brother’s room had become. I was curled up in his bed, crying my eyes out, when Rowan found me. “God, Tate, look at you,” she sighed, standing beside the bed. “How’d you get in?” I mumbled. My eyes were puffy and it made it hard to see her clearly. She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. “Trent happens to come in handy for lots of things, like picking locks.” “Lovely,” I grumbled. “What the hell happened?” She asked, sitting on the edge of the bed by my feet.  I rolled onto my back and blinked bleary eyes at her. “Jude didn’t tell you?” I asked. “When I went to talk to him he was too busy destroying his room to answer.” She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m sure whatever it was, was silly and you two can work past this.” “He kissed another girl.” Rowan’s eyes grew wide at my words. “Or she kissed him. But does it really matter?” “Of course that matters!” She gasped. “If she kissed him, it wasn’t his fault, Tatum.” “But why didn’t he push her away?!” I cried, reaching over to the nightstand for yet another tissue. I was pretty sure in the past twenty-four hours I’d used up nearly every tissue in the house. “Maybe he did and you just didn’t see,” she countered. “It felt like I watched them forever.” My lower lip trembled. “How would you feel if you saw Trent kissing another girl?” Her lips thinned and she looked away. “I understand where you’re coming from, Tate, but don’t throw away something so great because of a misunderstanding. Life’s too short for that.” I turned away from her and stared at one of the bookcases in my brother’s room. It was covered with books, pictures of his friends and even some with me, and all his sports trophies. “I need time.” “Yeah, but how much time?” I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t know. Until it stops hurting I guess,” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around the pillow and hugging it to my chest. Rowan laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “It’s never going to stop hurting, not if you love him. Do you love him?” Her eyes widened in surprise at her own question. I nodded. “I do,” my lip trembled. “Oh, Tate.” She climbed onto the bed beside me and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “I’m so sorry. I know it hurts, but he’s hurting too. Please, don’t give up.” Sniffling, I wiped beneath my eyes. “It hurt so bad seeing him kiss her. It felt like my heart was ripped

out of my chest and stomped on. I just need to regroup.” “How long will that take, though?” She asked. “A few days? A week? A month? Forever?” “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I just need to figure some things out.” She smoothed her fingers through my hair and then started to braid it. I’d seen her do something similar with her sister when she was trying to comfort her. “If you need to talk about it, or a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you.” “Thank you,” I said and meant it. “No problem. That’s what friend’s are for.” We grew quiet as she braided my hair. After a while, I asked, “Can you stay for a while?” “Of course,” she replied. “I’m feeling a little hungry…could we order pizza?” “Pizza sounds great. I’ll get it ordered while you shower.” “Is that your subtle way of telling me I stink?” I asked, rolling over to face her. She laughed. “No, but you look like crap and a shower always makes me feel better. Come on,” she pushed my shoulder, “out of bed.” I rolled out of my brother’s bed and stretched my arms above my head. Looking around, Rowan said, “This is your brother’s room.” I nodded, even though it hadn’t been a question. “Why the hell are you in here, and not in your room?” She asked. I looked away and let out a sigh as sadness filled me once more. “My room reminded me too much of him.” Just saying the words made me remember the feel of his body wrapped around mine as we slept in my bed. Rowan’s eyes filled with pity. “I’m sorry, Tate.” “It’s not your fault,” I mumbled, heading for the bathroom. If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine for believing I could be different. When it came down to it, Jude obviously thought I was another girl he could screw over easily. He’d used me until he’d grown tired of me and tossed me away like a broken toy the moment he kissed Brooke.  I turned the hot water on and stayed beneath the hot spray for as long as I could stand it. Rowan was right, it did make me feel better. I let the water soothe my tense muscles and washed my hair. When I got out of the shower I brushed my hair and teeth. I was surprised to find clean clothes waiting for me when I opened the bathroom door. Rowan had grabbed them and set them out so I wouldn’t have to go into my room.  I grabbed the clothes and closed the bathroom door once more as I changed into the sweatpants and t-shirt. Despite spending all of last night and most of the day in bed, I felt exhausted. My rest had been filled with troubled thoughts. I forced my sluggish feet downstairs and found Rowan sitting in the family room, watching TV. “Hey,” she turned around and smiled when she saw me, “feeling better?” “A little.” I forced a smile, but it splintered and cracked. I began to cry as I sat down beside her. She grabbed a blanket, draped it around my shoulders, and pulled me into a hug. “Shh,” she comforted. “It’s okay, Tate. Let it out.” “Why does it hurt so bad,” I sobbed. “It shouldn’t be this painful.” I wiped my tears on the blanket. I was sick of crying over Jude, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I was hurt and angry—at him and myself. “Oh, honey,” Rowan sighed, “love is painful. It tears you apart and puts you back together. It’s not meant to be smooth sailing. Relationships are hard. They take time and effort.” “But that isn’t the problem,” I sniffled, my eyes stinging with even more tears. “He kissed her.” “Oh, Tatum,” she sighed heavily and rested her chin on top of my head in a motherly gesture. “Do you really believe that?” “I don’t need to believe it,” I choked. “I saw it.” Rowan let out an exasperated breath. “Tatum, I really believe it was a misunderstanding. Jude…the way he looks at you…trust me, he wouldn’t hurt you like this.” I slid away from her to put some distance between us. “Whose side are you on? His?” Rowan blew out a breath, her hair swaying around her shoulders as she shook her head. “You’re both my friends, so I’m on both of your sides. Not one or the other. I had no idea what happened when I saw you go running down the street, but then Jude came out…” She bit her lip and her eyes filled with

pain as if she was remembering something from her past. “That look on his face, was the look of a man in love and in pain. A man with that look would never try to hurt you on purpose.” Rowan’s face grew shadowed with anger. “Whoever this bitch is that fucked you two up, I want to punch her in the face. Or yank out her weave. Whichever would be more painful.” My tears stopped, and I laughed. I swore only Rowan could make me laugh in a situation like this when she wasn’t even trying. I knew from her expression that she was dead serious. “You know,” she leaned her head back against the pillows, “I don’t understand girls who want another girl’s guy. Like, bitch, come on. There’s other fish in the sea. Why do you need this particular fish, you know?” She turned her gaze to me and I laughed again. “It’s so not cool, but you know,” she grew even more serious, “I think girls, or even guys, that pull stunts like that are just really insecure with themselves. Please, Tate, please don’t let some bitch ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes. “In all the time we’ve been friends, I’ve never seen you happier than you have been these months you’ve been with Jude.” “It was only like two months,” I grumbled.  “Love doesn’t have a timeline,” she severed me with a glare. “Love doesn’t wait. When it’s meant to be, then it is.” “Well, if it’s meant to be I guess it’ll work itself out.” I used her words against her. Her lips thinned. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have to try.” Luckily I was saved from replying by the doorbell ringing.  At first my heart jolted behind my ribs as a part of me hoped it was Jude, but I quickly realized it was simply the pizza arriving.  Despite my current pissed off state where Jude was concerned, I still yearned to see him. I was pathetic.  Rowan jumped up from the couch, patting my knee as she passed me on her way to the front door. She paid the guy for the pizza and set the box on the coffee table. Without saying anything to me she disappeared into the kitchen and I heard cabinet doors slam as she searched for whatever she was looking for. She returned a few minutes later with plates and glasses of water. We ate in silence and watched TV. Well, I didn’t really watch it. I sort of stared at the TV as my mind wandered to thoughts of Jude. How he made me feel, how he could make me laugh, the feel of his fingers on my skin, how it felt when we made love…it was all there on an endless spin cycle in my head. No matter how hard I tried not to think of him, he was always there. “Will it ever stop hurting?” I asked Rowan eventually. She turned to me, and set her plate of pizza on her lap. “Honestly?” Her lips turned down in a frown. “When Trent and I were broken up, or whatever you want to call it, after he found out about Tristan… it never stopped hurting until he forgave me and took me back. The pain was suffocating at times. All I wanted was him and I knew he was the only man I’d ever want. I was so scared that I’d completely fucked us up and that we’d never be together…” She trailed off, her eyes sad.  “Is it wrong of me to feel like I need time to think things through?” I asked her. She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I would’ve done, or how I would’ve felt, if I saw Trenton kissing another girl…or a girl kissing him,” she amended. “Since I haven’t been in that spot, I don’t feel like I can judge or pass an opinion.” She frowned, her nose crinkling with thought. “You have to do what you have to do, but this,” she motioned her hand at me, “isn’t the reaction of someone who can just move on easily. You…you love him.” “I do,” I agreed, my lip trembling. “I love him so much.” I’d never said the words out loud, but it felt good now that I had. But Rowan wasn’t the one who should’ve heard them. Those words belonged to Jude. “Then tell him that. Move past this. Don’t let this bitch win. Go get your man back, Tate.” I shook my head and swiped tears from beneath my eyes. “I can’t. Not yet.” My body trembled with shaky breaths. “I…I need a few days.” I couldn’t forgive and forget so easily. Not while I still felt so hurt—the pain still raw and festering. “What for?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. “I don’t know…to make sure I really forgive him, I guess. I can’t expect him to take me back or for us to ever work if I can’t let go of this anger,” I sighed. “I don’t want to think about that kiss every time I look at him. I have to get past it first.” “I think you’re being stupid,” Rowan spat, her eyes growing angry. “He loves you, you love him. It’s as

simple as that. Now, you’re just coming up with excuses to talk yourself out of being with him because love is scary.” She stood up, glaring down at me. I looked away, towards the wall. My shoulders shook with barely contained sobs. “I’ve got news for you, Tatum. Life is scary.” With her words hanging in the air she stomped out of the room and out the door, letting it slam closed behind her. My cries were all that could be heard in the silent house.

TEN DAYS. Ten days without Jude. Ten days of being miserable. Ten days of moping around the house, only leaving to go to work. Ten days of complete and utter insanity. I was pretty sure at this point I was going crazy, if I hadn’t already. I’d thought of going to him so many times and apologizing, but my stubbornness wouldn’t let me. I had spent hours hoping he’d come see me.  He didn’t. That scared me like nothing else could. Between not seeing him, and Rowan’s disappearance—I hadn’t seen her either since the day she walked out—I had myself convinced that Jude had moved on with Brooke. It was easier to believe he stayed away because he’d found something in her that he didn’t have with me, than to accept responsibility for what happened—that I pushed him away.  “What did that pen ever do to you?” I jumped at the sound of Bryce’s voice. “Sorry,” I put the pen down, the top chewed on. “I didn’t realize I was doing it.” He stared at the crumpled top of the pen. “Well keep it now. No one wants your germs,” he joked, hoping up on the counter.  It was closing time and I should’ve been helping him wipe down the tables and clean the floors, but I was too lost in my thoughts. “What’s going on with you?” He asked. “You haven’t been okay for a week now.” I sighed. “It’s nothing.” “Boy troubles,” he spoke over me. “It’s definitely boy troubles. I can tell from the look in your eyes.” He reached out and lifted my chin. “The guy’s an idiot to leave you.” I pulled out of his grasp and his hand fell to his lap. “There…there was a misunderstanding, and I made things worse,” I admitted. It was the first time I’d accepted some of the responsibility.  “Talk to me,” Bryce said as he hopped off the counter. He grabbed two rags and tossed one to me. I managed to catch it. “You clean those tables,” he pointed, “and I’ll take the ones over here.” I did as he told me, but didn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say. “Come on, you can tell me whatever is. I might be able to impart some wisdom, or not,” he chuckled. I shrugged, wiping the table in circular motions. At the rate I was going, I was about to rub a hole into the surface. I let out a pent up breath and told Bryce everything, from how I found Jude and Brooke, to how depressed I’d been the past ten days.  When I was done, I pulled out one of the chairs and put my head in my hands. “I’ve ruined

everything.” The legs of the other chair squeaked against the tile floors as Bryce pulled it out and sat down. “You haven’t ruined everything,” he said softly, his voice oddly serious. “Everyone makes mistakes, but it’s what you do after that matters.” “What do you mean?” I looked up at him, sniffling. He shrugged. “I just mean, when you make a mistake you either have to own it, or suffer because of it. Apologize to him. If he really loves you he’ll understand. Everyone makes mistakes and you both did in this situation. He shouldn’t have let whatever-her-name-is into his room, and you shouldn’t have pushed him away. Tell him you’re sorry.” “I don’t know if I can,” I admitted. “Apologizing isn’t a weakness,” Bryce stood, throwing the damp rag over his shoulder, “it’s a strength.” Whistling, he headed to the back to clean up there while I finished out front. I kept replaying his words over that evening and on the drive home. I was surprised to see Rowan’s car parked in the driveway when I arrived home. I got out of the car and found her sitting on the top step of the porch. Her elbows rested on her knees with her head in her hands. I approached hesitantly, like she was a rabid animal that might bite me at a moments notice. After our last conversation I had no idea where we stood. “Hi.” My voice was soft as I approached. She looked up at me and let out a sigh. “Can I talk to you?” “Sure,” I nodded. I sat down on the step beside her, instead of inviting her inside. I figured if things got bad I had a better chance of running away if we were outdoors. “I’m sorry for the things I said.” She turned to look at me, and tears shown in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have been such a bitch to you. You were hurting and I wasn’t respectful of that.” I shook my head. “You were telling the truth. I was being stupid.” I let out a pent up breath. “How have you been?” She asked. “Miserable.” I answered without any hesitation.  “He’s—” “I don’t want to know about him,” I stopped her. “But—” “No,” I said sternly. “I don’t want to know.” Rowan sighed and reached for me, putting her arm around me and coaxing my head onto her shoulder. “I hate seeing you like this.” I lifted my shoulders in a small shrug. “It is what is.” “You’re not going to fix this, are you?” She whispered into the night air. I stared out at the yard where lightning bugs glowed. “I still need more time. I need the hurt to go away.” It was basically the same thing I’d told her the last time she was here.  “It’s not going to stop hurting until you get your man back, Tate,” she stated. I scrubbed a hand over my tired face. “He hasn’t tried to see me.” Rowan sighed heavily. “He thinks you hate him.” I pulled away from her, not even bothering to scold her for giving me information on him. “I could never hate him. I tried, but I can’t.” I started to cry, for the thousandth time it seemed, and Rowan stood up and helped me to stand as well. She led me to the front door and I pulled out my key to let us inside.  Rowan didn’t say anything as she led me to the family room and disappeared into the kitchen. When she returned she held out a gallon of ice cream with two spoons stuck in the top. “Ice cream makes everything better, right?” “Right,” I replied. But then before I could take a bite I started to cry harder, because now ice cream only made me think of Jude.  Jude. Jude. Jude. He was every-fucking-where. 

He’d invaded every aspect of my life without me even realizing that he had. Rowan ignored my tears. I guessed she’d decided to let me cry it out. After a few minutes where the only sound in the room was my hiccupping sobs, she said, “Trent’s family is throwing a Memorial Day barbeque. I want you to come.” Composing myself, I choked, “Is h-he going to be there?” I knew she’d know which he I meant. After all, there could only be one I was referring to.  Rowan shrugged. “He’s invited, but I don’t know if he’ll come or not.” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. “I’ll think about it.” “That’s better than no.” She smiled and set the ice cream aside when it was obvious that even its sugary goodness couldn’t tempt me. “Let’s go out.” “I don’t want to,” I frowned, my shoulders sagging with a sigh. “Just for dinner,” she pleaded. “You need to get out and you have to eat. It’s a win-win.” I couldn’t very well argue with that. Besides, I need to push past my sadness over the situation with Jude and find that strong girl I used to be once more.  With startling clarity I realized that Jude didn’t take away my strength. He gave it to me. He lifted me up, and didn’t drag me down. He pushed me to be better. I began to toy with my bottom lip as my thoughts began to show me what I’d been too blinded by hurt and stubborn proudness to see. Jude made me better. He didn’t change me, he just helped me improve upon the person I was.  I’d been too mad to see that and grasping at reasons to stay mad at him. God, I’d been so stupid. I stood hastily and my hand flew to my mouth. I thought I might be sick. “Tatum—” Rowan started. I lowered my hand and took a deep, steadying breath. “You were right,” I gasped, “I’ve been so stupid. I…I…I was so hurt over seeing him with Brooke, and pissed over my own reaction. I hated that I cared so much, but I can see now that if I hadn’t got upset that would’ve been more disconcerting.” I shook my head, my hair falling forward to frame my face. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” I lifted my head to look at her. “Why do I do this to myself? Why do I push everyone away?” Rowan wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. “You’re so much like me,” she whispered in my ear. “I did the same thing with Trenton. Over and over again I pushed him away because I was scared to love him.” She stepped back but rested her hands on my shoulders. “But being without him was the worst kind of pain I’ve ever felt.” “I-I need to go to him,” I stuttered, looking around for my purse and car keys. I couldn’t remember where I’d laid them when we came inside. Rowan reached out and grabbed my arm, halting my frantic search. “It’s late, Tate. Wait till morning.” My face fell. “Has he moved on?” “God, Tatum,” she rolled her eyes, “don’t be ridiculous.” “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me,” I frowned. “I promise there’s not, it’s just late and…” She started. “What?” I prompted when she didn’t continue. “I don’t know,” she shrugged, “it just seems like you should do something nice to apologize. He’s really torn up.” “He’s torn up?” I snapped. “What about me?” I pointed to my chest. “What about what I feel? Huh? The past ten days have been hell for me.” “I’m not saying they haven’t, but…let’s face it,” she played with the ends of her hair, a nervous gesture, “Jude pursued you, I think it’s time for you to do a little chasing of your own.” I narrowed my eyes. “This ‘chasing’ you speak of sounds a lot like groveling. I won’t beg him to take me back.” It had nothing to do with pride, but I wasn’t going to turn into a pathetic mess because he wouldn’t take me back—at least not in front of him. In the comfort of my home? Now that was a different story. “No,” she laughed. “I just think he deserves a romantic gesture.” “What if he laughs at me?” I frowned. Rowan sighed. “I’m not saying it needs to be something overly romantic and gooey. Do something from your heart. Something that will make him smile.” She threw her arm over my shoulder. “Come on, we’ll talk about it over dinner. I’m sure between the two of us we can come up with something

brilliant to blow his mind.”

“LUCINDA,” I WALKED UP to my boss, nervously fiddling with my fingers. She looked up from the cupcakes she was icing, arching her brow in question. I decided not to mess around, because if I stalled too long I’d lose my nerve to ask for her help. “I… uh…I made a mistake.” “With the register?” She asked, flicking gray hair out of her eyes with a shake of her head. “No,” I laughed, but it came out nervous sounding, “with my boyfriend.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” she stood up straight. “But I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.” “You see,” I fidgeted restlessly with unease. “I want to apologize to him, but my friend says I need to do something romantic so I was thinking…” “Yeah?” She asked, icing more cupcakes while she waited for me to get on with it. “I want to make him a cake, and I know how to make a cake, that isn’t the problem…” “So, what’s the problem?” She asked. “I’ll help you in anyway I can,” she smiled, alleviating some of my stress. “He loves gummy bears, so—” “You want to make him a gummy bear cake,” she chuckled, setting the bag of icing to the side. Wiping her hands on her apron she said, “I can do that, but you’re helping. I have to head out of here in a little bit, but we can do it first thing in the morning and I’ll give you the rest of the day off tomorrow so you can, hopefully, make up.” She winked and picked up the icing bag once more. “Thank you!” I cried. I was a bit upset I had to wait till tomorrow morning—probably the afternoon by the time the cake would be done and I could get it to him—but I would take this as a victory. I returned to the front and Bryce stepped away from the register so I could take over.  “From the smile on your face, I’m going to guess it went well.” I’d already told Bryce my idea and he’d thought it was great. His exact words had been, ‘No man can resist the temptation of a cake and a hot girl holding it.’ He’d looked me up and down then, grinning slowly before adding, ‘You should totally hide in his room and when he opens the door you’ll be standing there naked holding the cake.’ I’d responded by telling him to shut his mouth and that I bet his girlfriend wouldn’t like hearing him say that. Having met his girlfriend, a pretty redhead named Charlotte, I couldn’t help wondering how those two ended up together. While Bryce was loud and said whatever he wanted, Charlotte was quiet and barely spoke. Maybe that’s why they worked. They did say opposites attract, and look how opposite Jude and I were and I loved him deeply. “It did,” I finally answered him, “she said she would help.” “Sweeeet,” he rubbed his hands together. “I told you she’d be in.” “Why are you so excited?” I asked, leaning my hip against the counter. “It’s not like you’re getting any cake.” He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. His shaggy dark hair fell

forward, shielding his face. He always reminded me of a dog for some reason when he did that. His personality was kind of dog like too—super friendly and frighteningly hyper.  “You’ve been super cranky during this whole lover’s spat. I’m looking forward to getting the more pleasant version of Tatum back, although,” his eyes sparkled with laughter, “you can still be kind of bitch when you’re normal.” I grabbed the first thing I could get ahold of, which happened to be a pen, and threw it at his head. He ducked so fast I swore his body blurred. My mouth fell open in surprise as the pen bounced off the wall. “Whoa,” I breathed. “You’re like Superman.” Bryce chuckled and bent to retrieve the pen. He placed it back on the counter and returned to his previous position. He snorted. “I’m way cooler than Superman. Everyone knows that.” I laughed and turned to face the register when I heard the bell on the door clang. “Cussssstommmmer,” Bryce sing-songed. “Oh, cussssstoooooommmmer,” now he really started to sing, “whaaaaaat caaaaan weeeee heeeeeeeeeellllpppp yooooooooooooooooou wiiiiith?” My eyes widened in surprise at the sound of his voice. He could actually sing. Becoming serious, he stated, “Our cupcakes are fabulous. You should have one.” I laughed. “We only sell cupcakes.” “Yeah, but he doesn’t know that,” Bryce hissed, like he was letting me in on a secret. “What if he’s here for pie and we don’t have pie? I’ve got to play up the cupcakes.” I shook my head. I didn’t think Bryce would ever cease to amaze me. The customer looked from me to Bryce and busted out laughing. Extending his hand for me to shake I took it with a puzzled brow. “I’m Caeden, that thing’s my brother,” he released my hand and pointed at Bryce. “Don’t worry, I’m used to his antics.” “Oh,” I breathed, feeling relieved. Now that I looked I was surprised I hadn’t noticed the resemblance earlier. They were practically identical, with the exception that this guy was obviously a little older. His hair was a dark chocolate brown and his eyes a piercing blue. Like Bryce’s they were so bright they didn’t seem real.  I realized I’d never told him my name. “I’m Tatum, by the way.” He chuckled. “Nice to meet you, Tatum. I came by because I need to talk to Lucinda,” he pointed towards the back. “Oh, of course.” I moved out of the way so he could come around the counter and go to the back.  “Thanks,” he smiled as he brushed past me. The door had no more than swung closed till Bryce narrowed his eyes and said, “I better see what’s going on. Can you handle the front?” “Yeah,” I replied, but he’d already gone. “Huh,” I huffed to myself, wondering what that was about. Several customers trickled in then and my mind became distracted as I flitted around filling their orders.  Lucinda’s was usually busy between the local high school, which hadn’t let out yet, and working professionals in the area. It seemed that everyone wanted a cupcake from Lucinda’s. By the time we closed Caeden and Lucinda had left and it was just Bryce and I.  We cleaned up, talking about random things before heading our separate ways. I managed to get some sleep that night with the comfort that in the morning I would make my apology cake and set things right. Hopefully. Because there was always the chance that I had damaged things beyond repair and Jude wouldn’t want to take me back.

LUCINDA REMOVED THE TWO round pieces of chocolate cake from the pan to cool. With each passing second my body tightened a bit more with anticipation.  While the cake cooled I made the icing—a whipped buttercream that smelled so good that I couldn’t resist dipping my finger in and tasting it. It was delicious.  Lucinda narrowed her eyes, having caught me, and smiled. “I saw that,” she chuckled, “you know you’re not supposed to do that.” I shrugged. “It’s for Jude, he won’t mind.”

Together we iced the cake when it cooled enough. Alright, I let her do most of the icing, but only because she did it so much better than I did. Once all sides of the cake were covered in icing I grabbed the bag of gummy bears and sprinkled them on top, as well as sticking some to the sides.  And that folks, was how you made a gummy bear cake. Lucinda appraised our handy work with a small smile. “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, if this doesn’t work then I don’t know what else would.” “Thank you so much for helping me with this, Lucinda,” I hugged her. Patting my back, she said, “It was no problem at all.” Stepping back, she looked over my disheveled appearance, cake batter and icing covered my clothes and I felt something sticky on my cheek. “You better clean up and get out of here.” I’d brought a change of clothes with me so I wouldn’t have to go home. I cleaned up in the bathroom, wiping icing from cheek and freshening my makeup. I swiped on some mascara and put a red gloss on my lips. I fluffed my hair and changed into shorts and a t-shirt. Nothing fancy, but that wasn’t me, and I knew no pretty dress would erase what I had done. Only I could do that with my words—and the gummy bear cake of course. “Thank you, again!” I called to Lucinda as I dashed out of the bathroom. “I hope it goes well.” She turned on one of the beaters as she started making cupcakes for the morning crowd that would be arriving soon. I couldn’t believe she’d offered to come in before opening time to help me. I really liked her, and Bryce too. I’d lucked out with this job.  I grabbed the cake up—which was fixed in a glass cake platter—and went out to my car. I prayed to the cake gods that nothing messed it up and it would make it to Jude in one piece. Even if he said he never wanted to see me again he should at least get to enjoy the cake. Although, with my fiery personality it was more likely I’d try to throw it at him. I drove to Jude’s townhouse, my heart thundering in my chest and my blood roaring in my ears. I was about two seconds away from breaking out in an all body nervous sweat. I was terrified to see him after twelve days apart. But I was even more terrified of living my life without him. Jude was my future and I wasn’t going to let my pride ruin that. It was time to stop running and hiding from my feelings. I had to accept them and give Jude my whole heart. Not part, not half. All of it.  No more holding back. I was going to lay it all out there. I parked on the street in front of the townhouse and turned off my car. “You can do this, Tatum,” I chanted quietly to myself. “Get out of the car and get your man back.” Repeating this mantra in my head I grabbed the cake and forced my stiff body out of the car. I stepped onto the walkway and up the steps. I adjusted my hold on the cake so I could ring the doorbell. I held my breath when I heard footsteps approaching. I lowered my head, not ready to face him.  The door swung open and I heard a gasp of, “Tatum?” It wasn’t the voice I longed to hear. My head rose slowly and my eyes connected with Dylan’s. His face darkened and he glared at me. I flinched. I wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from him, but he was Jude’s best friend so of course he was mad at me.  “Why are you here?” He snapped, moving his body so that it was clear I wasn’t invited inside. My palms grew sweaty against the glass cake holder. “I-I came to apologize.” I stuttered, flicking hair from my eyes. He narrowed his eyes. “Apologize? It’s a bit late for that,” he growled. “Don’t you think?” Tears pricked my eyes but I dammed them back. Squaring my shoulders I held my head high. “I understand if he doesn’t want to see me, or if he’s moved on,” I swallowed the lump in my throat that my words had created, “but I need to see him. I have to let him know how sorry I am for overreacting. I should’ve listened to him and—” Dylan cut me off with a heavy sigh and his eyes softened. “He’s not here.” “He’s not?” My face fell. “Oh,” I mumbled as realization dawned on me. He was out. Probably with her.  I turned to leave, but Dylan called, “Wait!” I stopped with my back to him. I didn’t want him to see me break down.  “You really fucked him up,” Dylan whispered and I heard his footsteps approach me on the walkway.

His hand came down on my shoulder and he turned me around. “I’ve never seen Jude like that before. You broke his heart.” My eyes closed as pain lanced my body. “I saw them kissing and…and…I thought he didn’t want me anymore.” “I know what you saw,” Dylan said. When my eyes widened with surprise, he added, “Yeah, he told me. He also told me she kissed him, which I’m sure he told you,” Dylan crossed his arms over his chest. “Jude’s not a liar,” he stated. “He wouldn’t play you like that.” “I know.” My voice came out as a squeak. “I fucked up, okay? I used that kiss as an excuse to push him away because what I feel for him is so powerful that it scares me more than I’d care to admit. I love him, Dylan, I really do. With all my heart and soul.” Dylan’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “I’m sorry for being a jerk,” he took a step back. “But I’ve hated seeing my best friend so fucked up over you. That’s not him.” “I understand,” I whispered and started heading towards my car once more. “He’s at his grandpa’s!” Dylan yelled, surprising me.  I closed the passenger door where I’d just set the cake down and turned to face Dylan where he stood just outside the door to the townhouse. “He’s at his grandpa’s,” he repeated when he knew he had my attention.  I nodded my head in thanks and circled around to the driver’s side. I was a bit nervous that I might get lost on the way to his grandpa’s since it was hidden away and down an old country road. But I knew if I didn’t go to him now I never would. I paid careful attention to everything I passed and crossed my fingers that I turned onto the right road. I let out a sigh of relief when I spotted Seraphina grazing in the distance. My heart fluttered in my throat.  Close. So. Close. I tried to mentally prepare myself to see him. Twelve days felt more like twelve years. When the trees parted and the road opened up, the house came into view. Jude was out front, up on a ladder painting the siding. It looked like he’d been working on the house. The steps were no longer leaning and since most of the house was freshly painted it looked fresh and new. He’d even fixed some of the broken shutters. He heard my car approach and turned his head.  The ladder swayed as surprise hit him when he recognized my car. He put the paintbrush on the top rung of the ladder and scrambled down.  He lifted his hands in front of his face to shield his eyes from the sun. As I got out of the car I could see his brows furrowed together. I stood for a moment, just staring at him so I could soak him in. His dark hair was damp with sweat and the white sleeveless shirt he wore clung to his chest and exposed his impressive arms. His jeans hung low on his hips, the bottoms rolled up. Paint stained their blue surface. His face was the same, of course, but maybe a little tired looking. The bags under his eyes were nearly as bad as mine. A few days worth of stubble dotted his cheeks and chin.  “Tatum?” He asked, his voice full of shock like he believed I was some kind of mirage that had appeared in front of him. “It’s me,” I forced a smile, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “What are you doing here?” He asked, lowering his hands from his face. “D-Dylan told me where to find you,” I admitted, hoping he wouldn’t be pissed at Dylan for giving me his whereabouts. “Is that so?” He shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. “I kind of had myself convinced I’d never see you again.” “I can go,” I turned to head back to my car. “No!” He cried and then I felt his hand on my wrist, spinning me around. He smoothed his fingers through my hair and my eyes fluttered closed, a happy sigh escaping my parted lips. “Don’t go,” he whispered, staring down at me with his warm brown eyes. 

I got lost in his stare. “I came to tell you I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry?” He cracked a smile, tracing his fingers over the curve of my cheek. It was like he had to touch me to convince himself I was real.  I nodded and bit my lip, my body shaking in his arms. “I should’ve believed you, but it was easier not to.” “Why?” He asked, sounding pained. “God, Tate, watching you run away from me in the pouring rain was the worst kind of torture you could put me through.” “I know and I’m so sorry,” my breath caught and I fisted his shirt in my hands. I brought my eyes up to his. “I was so scared of my feelings for you that I pushed you away. It’s what I do best, Jude. I hurt you and I hurt myself in the worst way imaginable. These twelve days without you have been the worst days of my life. Even worse than losing my brother.” I swallowed thickly, trying to compose myself. “I felt like loving you was taking away my choices, but you are my choice. You don’t ruin me. You make me better.” He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath fanning over my cheeks. “Only you could tear me apart and put me back together with a few words.” I tried to smile. I reached up and placed my hand over his—the one he held against my cheek. “You told me you couldn’t save me, that I had to do it myself, but you were wrong Jude. You did save me. We did it together. You healed me without even trying and I gave you my heart. All of it. It’s yours, if you still want it.” He chuckled huskily, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. “Of course I still want it, silly girl. I want you. Always.”  He lowered his head and I closed the distance between us. I let out a sigh of content as our lips collided. Finally.  My hands wound around his neck, locking in his hair to hold him to me. Twelve days had been too long to go without him. I’d been crazy to think I could live without this.  Without him.  Without love. He bit lightly on my bottom lip and my mouth parted. His tongue touched mine and I let out a moan I couldn’t contain. One hand cupped the nape of my neck, while his other slid down my back and settled on my waist before skimming up my shirt. The heat of his hand against my bare skin made me shiver. He pulled back with a chuckle and nipped my bottom lip once more. Staring down at me, he warned, “You better not try to leave me again, pretty girl. I won’t let you get away so easy next time.” “Don’t worry,” I stood on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “there won’t be a next time. You’re stuck with me now, Brooks.” He growled huskily and claimed my lips once more. I had no clue how long we stood there kissing and I didn’t care. I would never get my fill of Jude, no matter how many years we might have ahead of us. He rubbed his nose against mine and stepped back. “Want to go to our spot?” My smile was huge at his words. Our spot.  “That sounds perfect.” He started for his truck and I jumped. “Wait!” I ran to my car and pulled out the gummy bear cake. “Here,” I held it out to him. “I made this for you…well, I helped make it for you. It’s the thought that counts, right?” I laughed. He grinned crookedly as he looked at the cake. “Did you make me an apology cake?” I shrugged, laughing harder. “Um, yeah. It’s your favorite…gummy bear.” He chuckled and scratched his jaw as he reached for the cake. “I think you like me, Tate.” I stared into his warm eyes as I said the words I knew he needed to hear as much as I needed to say them. “I don’t like you, Jude Brooks. I love you.” His smile fell and I feared he was mad, but then he cried, “Fuck the cake,” and dropped it to the ground. By some minor miracle the glass didn’t shatter, but the cake did get messed up. But then his lips were on mine and my legs were wrapped around his waist and I completely forgot about the cake —about everything. All that existed was Jude.  My body, my mind, my heart—all of me—had been starved for him. I owed many thanks to whatever god had listened to my prayers and let Jude forgive me. I’d expected him to be angry with me—and I’m sure he was—and unforgiving.

Being back in his arms reminded me that my home was wherever he was. I fought to catch my breath when he set me down.  He cupped my cheeks in his large hands and stared down at me. “You love me, Tate?” “I love you,” I said again.  He growled low in his throat and took my earlobe in his mouth. Letting the flesh go, he brushed his mouth against the curve of my ear. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that for as long as I live. And Tate?” “Yeah?” I breathed, my tongue slipping out to moisten my suddenly dry lips. “I love you. I. Love. You. Do you hear me?” He narrowed his eyes, wanting to make sure his words penetrated my stubborn skull. “I love you and only you. It’s only ever been you.” He skimmed his fingers lightly over my cheek and down my neck. “Every part of me was made to love every part of you.” His voice lowered and his eyes darkened. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “I’ve been in hell without you.” “Me too,” I agreed. “I hate that I did this to you. To me. To us.” “It’s okay, Tate,” he cupped the nape of my neck and tilted my head back slightly. His eyes bored into mine. “It’s over now, and I think we learned a valuable lesson from this.” “And what would that be?” I asked, trying to keep the laughter from my voice. “That we’re better together.” “Sounds about right,” I smiled. “Now, are we going to our spot or not?” He chuckled. “Let’s go.” He reached down to entwine our hands and his eyes landed on the cake lying on the ground. The glass might not have shattered, but there was a crack in it, and the cake inside lay smashed. “Well,” he shrugged, bending to retrieve it, “it’s still edible.” Such a guy. He handed me the cake and I held it on my lap as he drove us to our spot. As he drove his hand rested possessively on my thigh and he continuously looked over at me, as if to make sure I was still in the truck. Once we were at the meadow he led me over to the pond and onto the dock. We kicked off our shoes and sat down, letting our feet dangle into the water. The sun shone bright in the sky—glowing down upon us and casting a golden glow.  The cake sat untouched between us as we grew quiet.  “Are you mad at me?” I asked eventually, growing fearful that now he was second-guessing forgiving me.  He shook his head. “No. I was. But seeing you again, hearing you tell me that you love me…that took all the anger and pain away. I’m just happy to have you back. You’re not the kind of a girl a guy wants to lose. I don’t mean that in a possessive way, just…” He shrugged, letting his shoulders sag as he kicked at the water. “You’re my girl, Tate. There’s no one else I want. I’d be a fucking idiot not to forgive you.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair and turned his head slightly to look at me. Squinting against the sunlight, he confessed, “With you, it’s different.” I knew exactly what he meant. “It is different,” I whispered in agreement. “You know, I always thought relationships seemed like a lot of work, but I feel like with us it’s effortless.” “Effortless?” He snorted, eyeing me. “It was hardly effortless.” I laughed. “Not in the beginning, and it certainly wasn’t easy these past two weeks, but before that… things were pretty dang perfect.” Jude smiled widely. “What we have, it’s true love, baby. You can’t fight destiny.” I opened my mouth to speak but he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the water. I squealed in fright, expecting to get soaked, but surprisingly the water didn’t even reach my knees. Jude tightened his hold on me and I knew he was going to try to pull me into deeper water. “Jude!” I screamed, trudging through the water to get away from him. His hold slackened and I managed to get a few feet away. I squealed, jumping up when he splashed me with water. I screamed his name again and splashed him back. I tore my damp shirt off, throwing it as far as I could so it landed in the grass, before it ended up drenched. Jude used that to his advantage and maneuvered in front of me. He walked up real slow, smiling innocently. “Sorry, Tate, I couldn’t resist. I’ll stop. Forgive me?” 

I opened my mouth to tell him to kiss my ass when he reached down and splashed more water at my face. “Juuuude!” I shrieked yet again. I cupped water in my hands and dropped it on his head in retaliation.  All the while, we both laughed. Laughter had been missing from both our lives for too many days. He swiped a long arc of water at me, drenching my legs and shorts. My hands flew up to cover my face. The water wasn’t cold, but it definitely wasn’t warm either. Once I recovered from his onslaught, I splashed him back, and a full on water war ensued. Both of us ended up drenched, but I was too happy to care.  Jude grabbed me around my waist, spinning me around. Both of us grinned like fools.  I’d missed him more than I thought it was possible to miss another person. I wasn’t lying when I told him he was stuck with me. There was no way I was ever leaving him again. This man was mine, forever. “I love you,” he murmured in my ear, smoothing my hair out of my eyes. “I love you too,” I clasped arms around his neck, my legs wrapping around his waist as he held me up. I stared down at him, the sun shining on our faces. My damp hair clung to my chest, the ends dripping water onto his shoulders. Now that I had said the words, I realized they weren’t that scary, and I just wanted to keep saying them over and over again, because they filled me with such joy. I lowered my head, a smile on my face. My lips grazed his ear and I murmured, “I love you, Jude Brooks. I love you with all my heart.” He kissed me slowly, deeply, savoring every touch of our lips.  He set me down and then crouched for me to climb onto him piggyback style. He lifted me up and tilted his head back to look at me. His eyes were serious as he stared me down. “You’re the only girl for me, never forget that, Tate.” “Never,” I agreed, burrowing my head against his neck with a smile on my face as he carried me out of the water. I hated that I hadn’t believed him when he told me about Brooke. I hated that I pushed him away and ran from my own feelings. I hated that I fought my heart so hard. But all my fighting was futile; because love is one battle you can never overcome. Love always wins. Jude put me down when we reached the grass. He pulled a beanie out of his back pocket and fixed it on, his damp hair sticking up in the front.  Growing serious, he leaned forward and his nose grazed mine. “Marry me, Tate.” “What?” I gasped with wide eyes. “You heard me,” he chuckled, and then like a typical guy his eyes dropped to the swell of my breasts barely contained behind my bra. “Marry me. Maybe not today or tomorrow, or next week or next month, or maybe so,” he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as you promise to marry me one day…” He paused and cracked a grin. “And promise to have lots of my babies.” His hand reached for my stomach, his fingers skimming my skin. “I want it all with you, Tate. Marriage, babies, a house, a life. None of it has any meaning without you. Please, say you’ll marry me?” I stood, mouth agape, and stared at him like he’d grown three heads. I hadn’t been expecting that to come out of his mouth, especially since I’d shown up today to seek his forgiveness. I was shocked, to say the least, and didn’t know what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, but I was scared. I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly, silently telling myself not to be so scared all the time. Pushing my fears and anxieties aside, I spoke. “One day?” “One day.” He promised. “When you’re ready,” he amended.  I nodded, and a slow smile lifted my lips. “Yes.” “Yes?” He stepped back with shock. Grinning, he gasped, “You said yes!” He picked me up around my waist and spun me around. I had no choice but to hold on tight. When he set me down he kissed me soundly, humming low in his throat. He gripped my face between his large hands and pressed his forehead against mine. “We’re getting married,” he grinned. “One day,” I repeated.  “One day soon.” He whispered lowly. “I hope,” he added, nibbling on my lips. I sank into his touch. I couldn’t get enough of him. Why had I ever thought I could live without this? I was crazy. He took my hand and sat down in the grass. I lay down beside him and he turned to look at me. “I have so much to tell you,” he smiled, his eyes roaming greedily up and down my body.

“Like what?” I prompted. Shrugging, he pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “Well, for starters, since you broke my heart,” his sad eyes slid to me and then he smiled jokingly, “I had to find ways to distract myself so I couldn’t think about you. I spent a lot of time fixing things at Pap’s house, which I’m sure you saw. But there’s something else I did.” His lips turned down in a frown and my heart stopped beating all together. Shit. He was going to tell me he slept with someone else. I knew it. Oh God. I was going to be sick. “I found Julia.” Okay, that so was not what I’d been expecting. “Julia? The Julia? The Julia your grandpa thinks I am during one of his bad days?” I couldn’t get the words past my lips fast enough. “Yeah,” he nodded, his brown eyes sad.  “Have you talked to her?” I asked. “Yep,” he tapped his fingers against the top of his knees. “I’ve talked to her. She…uh…she thought my dad put me up to calling. I told her I hadn’t talked to that fucking asshole since I moved out. I explained to her about Pap calling you Julia, and that we were curious.” He shrugged, letting out a sigh. “And?” I prompted. “Was she nice? What did she have to say? How was she involved with your dad?” I kept firing questions at him, curiosity eating me up. “She said that her and my dad were high school sweethearts. They planned to get married after college and live happily ever after,” he mumbled.  “Come on, Jude,” I sat up, tucking my damp hair behind my ear. “I know there’s more to the story than that.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “She caught him cheating on her with my mom. My mommy’s the best, ain’t she?” He smiled but the happiness from minutes ago was gone. “Julia, uh,” he cleared his throat and his jaw clenched, “she was pregnant at the time.” “What?!” I gasped, almost falling over with shock.  Jude nodded. “Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction. I have a brother. He’s three years older than me.” “Wow,” I breathed. “You have a brother?” He nodded. “Crazy, right?” I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. He’d not only found Julia, but a brother. Family he never knew he had. I knew since Jude didn’t have a relationship with his mom and dad, that he worried about what would happen once his grandpa was gone. But now he wouldn’t be alone. He had a brother. “Do you know his name?” I asked.  “Archer,” he answered. “Apparently it’s a family name on her side,” he shrugged, squinting against the descending sun. “Have you talked to him? Are you going to meet him? Them?” He swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah,” he reached for my hand, “they’re supposed to come up to the farm next week for lunch. Archer wants to meet Pap. Julia is coming too. It’ll be nice to meet them, but I’m nervous. I hope you’ll be there with me.” “Of course I’ll be there,” I gasped. “I want to meet them too.” “Thanks,” he smiled. He reached over and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him. His lips brushed against the top of my head. “God,” his voice lowered, “I fucking hated not having you by my side.” “I felt the same,” I agreed. “You’ll never know how sorry I am for pushing you away and not believing you.” “Well,” he grinned playfully, “you have our whole lives to make it up to me. I accept payment in—” “Sexual favors, I know, I know,” I chanted with a laugh. I stood up and stretched my legs. “You’ll have to catch me first before that happens.” Before he could respond I took off running.  I didn’t know where I was going and I didn’t care. I let myself smile and laugh as I ran through the field of tall grass and flowers. Jude’s laughter sounded behind me as his footsteps grew closer. I closed my eyes as I ran, the setting sun warming my face. I spread my arms out wide like I was flying.

His arm came around my waist and we tumbled to the ground. I ended up on top of him and his hands gripped my waist. My hips dug into his as I lowered my head to kiss him. As the heat of the kiss grew to scorching temperatures our clothes melted away and we made love there in our meadow.  The sun disappeared beneath the line of trees and the stars soon shimmered above us. My body curled against his, molding to the shape of him. Never again would I ever leave this man’s side, because I’d found the one, and he would always be worth fighting for.

“AHHHHH!” ROWAN SCREAMED WHEN Jude and I showed up to the Memorial Day party hand in hand. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She fist-pumped. Sobering, she added, “You two had me worried there for a little while that you weren’t going to work it out.” Jude chuckled, keeping his arm around me so I couldn’t leave his side. “This one had me worried too.” Looking down at me, he added, “If you hadn’t come to me in a few more days I think I would’ve finally caved and gone after you. I wanted to come to you every day we were apart, but I knew you needed time, so I was giving you that.” “You’re too perfect for me sometimes,” I replied, trying to keep the dreamy sigh from my voice. I was young and in love, so sometimes it was hard not to act like a lovesick fool. “Bleh,” Rowan gagged. “Stop with the lovey dovey looks. You’re making me ill.” Jude and I laughed. Smiling at my best friend, I said, “You wear the same look around Trent all the time and if I recall, you’re marrying him in two weeks.” Rowan smiled widely, looking around for Trent. “Yeah, I guess I do.” With a gasp, she cried, “You will never believe what he did the other night!” “What?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t something that was going to gross me out and make me picture Trent naked, because that would be fucking weird.  A blush stained her cheeks as she spoke. “So, we were talking about our honeymoon, and then he started talking again about wanting another kid. I want to wait, he doesn’t, blah, blah, blah. Anyway,” she guided us over to a private side of the yard where there weren’t so many guests—and let me tell you, since it was a Wentworth party there were at least a hundred people in attendance, “he got so mad at me for saying that I wasn’t ready that he took all of the condoms and threw them out the window.” Jude snickered. “Oh, that’s not the best part,” Rowan crossed her arms over her chest. “He refused to go outside and get them, so I wouldn’t either. The next morning one of the neighbors is walking their dog, and the little hairy beast tries to eat one of the wrappers. The neighbor then finds all the condoms on the driveway, picks them up, and brings them to the door.” She threw her hands in the air. “I’ve never been more embarrassed in all my life.” Jude and I dissolved into fits of laughter. “Oh my God,” I wiped tears away, “that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.” She shook her head. “If I didn’t love him so much, I’d kill him for that stunt.” “So,” Jude started, “does this mean we should expect a bouncing baby boy or girl in nine months?” Rowan sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Looks like it.” “Yes!” Jude cried. “I’m going to be an uncle again!”  Rowan laughed. “Don’t get too excited just yet.” “I think,” Jude put a hand to his chest, “that I should be your children’s godfather, since Tater Tot here refuses to let me have Jude Jr. for a few more years.” Rowan’s lips quirked into a smile. “I think Trace would kill me if we didn’t let him be the godfather.”

“I heard my name!”  A moment later Trace, Trenton’s older brother, appeared and slung his arm over Rowan’s shoulder. “You called for me.” She laughed, pushing him away. “No, I just said your name. There’s a difference.” “Usually, when someone says my name it’s because they want me. I’m a very likable guy,” he grinned at Jude and me. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, shielding his green eyes. Heavy stubble dotted his cheeks and chin. He was dressed the same way he always was, jeans, a white shirt, and a plaid shirt over top.  “Trace!” His wife called, walking up to us. “Grace won’t stop crying,” she held their baby daughter. “She needs to go to sleep before the fireworks start in an hour or she’ll get too upset to sleep.” Olivia rocked the crying baby in her arms. The poor woman looked exhausted, but happy. Their son, Dean, the cutest three year old I’d ever seen clung to her leg peeking shyly at us. He had a mop of dark wavy hair and green eyes like his dad. He was even dressed similarly in a plaid shirt.  Trace held out his arms for Grace and began to sing to the baby. Her cries ceased and she looked up at her daddy in awe. She was dressed in an adorable pink and purple flowered dress, with a white headband around her head. Like her brother she had dark slightly curly hair.  “I’ll see you guys later,” Trace called, walking off and into the large mansion singing to his daughter. Something about seeing Trace with his kids made me look up at Jude and think about him as a father one day. Our kids would be the luckiest kids on the planet. Dean tugged on Olivia’s jeans and she lowered to pick up the boy, grunting at his weight. Dean laid his head on her shoulder, blinking curious owlish eyes at all of us. “Where daddy go?” He asked her. “He went to put Gracie to bed,” she kissed his cheek. He wiggled in her arms, wanting down now.  “Where Rent?” Dean asked, looking around.  Olivia held out her hand for him. “I don’t know. Let’s go find him.” Rowan nodded her head for us to follow Olivia and Dean.  We found Trent sitting at a table with Ivy and Tristan playing a card game. When Dean saw his uncle he screamed, “Rent!” and took off running. Olivia shook her head and smiled at us. “He’s such a handful, but I love him so much.” “Believe me, I understand completely,” Rowan nodded towards Tristan. “Kids are hard work, but worth every second of it.” Olivia nodded her head in agreement. “Grace makes our family feel complete…although,” she bit her lip, “Trace is already talking about wanting another baby. I think he’d be happy if I spent the next ten years of my life pregnant,” she laughed. “He loves being a father,” her eyes grew misty, and at that moment he returned. When Dean saw his daddy he forgot all about Trent and took off running once more. Trace pretended to fall to the ground when the little boy collided with his legs and the two tumbled to the ground. Trace picked up his son, tossing him in the air. “Seeing him with our children,” Olivia sighed dreamily, watching her husband and son, “makes me love him even more and I never thought that was possible.” Trace picked up Dean, lifting the small boy onto his shoulders, and sauntered over to us. Dean pulled and plucked at Trace’s hair, but he didn’t seem to mind.  “When are we eating?” Trace asked. “I’m hungry.” Catching sight of his mom he yelled her over. Lily Wentworth breezed over, her dark hair blowing around her shoulders and her blue eyes bright. “Yes?” She asked. “I want to know when we’re eating. I need food.” “Food! Food!” Dean cried, beating the top of Trace’s head with his hands. “Calm down, Dean.” Trace reached up, grabbing the little boy’s hands. “You’re going to hurt daddy.” Dean frowned and when Trace released his small hands the boy ceased his onslaught. Lily smiled beautifully. She reminded me of an heiress or maybe a princess with her effortless beauty and kind personality. “You’re always hungry,” she laughed at her oldest son, “but the food is almost ready. Why don’t you guys go ahead and get seated at one of the tables.” She waved her hand to the many picnic tables littering the green lawn. Each table was covered with a checkered red and white tablecloth. “Sounds good,” Trace grinned, lifting Dean off from around his neck. Dean giggled in delight as Trace spun him through the air.  Trent and Jude pushed two of the picnic tables together so we’d all be able to sit together.  It didn’t take long for waiters to start serving us. I expected some kind of fancy fare, but I was

pleasantly surprised to see they served us normal backyard party food. Burgers, hotdogs, mac n’ cheese, you name it and it was accounted for.  There were already plates in front of each of us and we were allowed to grab whatever we wanted to eat.  I chose a cheeseburger, some mac n’ cheese, and assorted fruit. Jude grabbed a bit of everything and I had no doubt he would eat it all.  Across from me, Trace grabbed two hot dogs and drenched them in ketchup. He cut up a hot dog for Dean and covered that in ketchup as well. “Trace,” Olivia scolded, wrinkling her nose, “that’s not necessary.” “Hey,” he pointed at her, “you can’t start them loving ketchup or Star Wars too young. You’re the freak that doesn’t like either.” Across from me I looked at Dean, who was currently shoving pieces of hot dog in his mouth and getting ketchup all over his face, and noticed that beneath his open plaid shirt he was wearing a shirt with a Star Wars logo. Clearly Trace had dressed him.  “Ketchup is gross,” she countered, “and Star Wars is weird.” Trace gasped. “Take that back.” I laughed at their playful interaction. No matter how much they might banter back and forth, that was just their relationship, but you could always see the love shining through in everything they did.  Jude bumped my shoulder and I looked up at him with a smile. I giggled when I saw mayonnaise sitting in the corner of his mouth. I lifted my head to kiss it away.  “Are you happy?” Jude asked me.  “Very,” I replied, and it was the truth. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been happier.  Jude grinned widely. “Do I make you happy?” “The happiest,” I responded.  Lowering his voice, he nuzzled his face against my ear. “I’ve wanted you for so long that I stopped believing we’d ever happen. Thank you.” “For what?” My brows furrowed together in puzzlement. “For giving me your heart, your love, your future,” he shrugged, squeezing my thigh. “Thank you for giving it all to me. You could’ve chosen any guy to love, but you picked me.” “I didn’t pick you, Jude,” I smiled, kissing his stubbled cheek, “we picked each other.” He chuckled. “That sounds about right.” Rowan bumped my shoulder, distracting me. I turned my head to look at her. “What?” I asked. She giggled. “I was a bit afraid that the way you guys were staring at each other you might end up having sex on the table.” “Rowan!” I gasped in shock. “Table sex?” Trace piped in. “Table sex is the best. I mean, all kinds of sex is the best—” “Trace!” Olivia hissed. “Be quiet,” she nodded her head at Dean.  Tristan and Ivy didn’t seem bothered by the outburst—although, there was a bit of a blush staining Ivy’s cheeks.  Olivia’s warning came a bit too late though. “Sex! Sex! Sex!” Dean chanted, smacking his small fists against the table. Olivia shook her head, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment. She slowly raised her hands to hide her face as other people gathered at the Memorial Day party turned to stare. Trace put a hand over his son’s mouth and waved at the staring people with a smirk on his face. “Nothing to see here folks. Look away.” Slowly, they turned away and back to their meals. “Now, Dean,” Trace looked down at his son, still not moving his hand, “we can’t say that word so loud, okay?” The little boy looked up at his dad and nodded. Trace lowered his hand and then Dean started in again with a quieter chant of, “Sex, sex, sex.” “Oh, God,” Olivia groaned. “Someone give him another word to say, please. Anything. I beg of you. He’s like a parrot, repeating every thing you say.” Jude looked at Dean and said, “Tater Tot.” Dean quieted and tilted his head. “Tater Tot?” Jude nodded. “This,” he pointed at me, “is Tater Tot.” Dean looked at me with a puzzled brow. “Tater, Tater, Tater,” he began to chant. 

“Thanks,” Olivia shot Jude a smile. “No problem,” he tilted his head in her direction. “Why do you call Tatum that?” Tristan leaned around Trent and Row to peer at Jude.  “Because, her nickname’s Tate and it sounds a lot like Tater, so I settled on Tater Tot. Plus, it used to make her ears turn red anytime I said it. Now she doesn’t do it and I know it’s ‘cause she secretly likes it,” he chuckled, rubbing my shoulders. I didn’t agree with him, but I didn’t deny it either, because he was right. Now I loved that stupid nickname, because Jude was the only person that called me that. I’d missed hearing him call me that during our time apart more than I’d care to admit. When we finished eating people came to clear off the tables and take them away so the whole lawn was free for roaming.  A DJ started up in the corner and Jude grabbed my hand, dragging me over to where others were gathering to dance.  “Dance with me,” he pleaded, his bottom lip jutting out enough to be cute, but not look stupid.  I couldn’t resist that face, so of course I said yes.  It was a fast-paced country song and Jude seemed to know all the words, singing them under his breath as he spun me around. Somehow I ended up with my back to his front. His hands fisted against the bottom of my dress, dragging it up dangerously high as I swayed my hips against his. He felt hard and lethal behind me, like a predator, but I wasn’t scared. I craved his touch. I needed it more than I needed the air I breathed. He brushed my hair over my one shoulder before his hands returned to my hips. He pressed his face against my neck, planting small kisses to the skin there. I giggled as his stubble tickled me. “God, I love that sound,” he groaned. “What?” I asked, my voice light and carefree sounding. “Your laugh,” he bit my earlobe. “It’s music to my ears.” “That’s silly, Jude.” I closed my eyes and reached up to wrap my arms around his neck. “It’s just a laugh.” “Nah, with you it’s not.” His voice grew deep with seriousness. “You used to never laugh, and now you do it all the time. It always makes me smile hearing it—knowing that you’re happy.” “Mmm,” I leaned my body fully against him, playing with the hairs at the base of his neck, “I think you’re trying to flatter me.” “Nope,” he bit my neck lightly, “just being honest, baby.” The song changed to something slower and he turned me around so we faced each other once more. I let out a small scream as I stumbled, but he was quick to catch me before I could fall.  He held me close, leaning down to brush his forehead against mine. He was dressed casually today in a pair of khaki shorts and a white t-shirt, but he also wore his favorite beanie. “You know,” I laughed, remembering a conversation we had so long ago, “you never told me what these rules were you made with yourself that you’ve broken with me. Care to tell me about it now?” I smiled up at him. He chuckled, kissing the end of my nose. “I can’t believe you remembered that.” “I did,” I nodded. “So come on, tell me. I’m curious.” “Well,” he grinned widely, “it was only one rule to be honest.” I leaned my head back to stare into his warm brown eyes. “And what was it?” I asked, trying to keep the pleading tone from my voice. He lowered his head to whisper in my ear. “Never fall in love.” I closed my eyes and let out a happy, contented sigh. I leaned up on my tiptoes, and with my fingers tangled in his hair I tilted his head down so I could reach his ear. “Funny, Brooks. I had the same rule.” He grinned down at me with a boyish smile. “It’s amazing how these things work out, isn’t it?” I smiled in response and leaned my head against his chest. Listening to the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart. My laugh was music to his ears and this was my music. “Amazing,” I agreed, letting my eyes drift closed. “It’s time for the fireworks!” Someone yelled and the music cut off. I jumped as one boomed in the sky and then my mouth fell open in awe at the display. These were real fireworks. Not the kind you got at the stand by 7-Eleven.

Someone handed Jude and me sparklers and then lit them for us. Tristan ran by us with two in his hands, laughing as Dean chased him. Rowan cried after him, worrying about him getting burned, while Trent chuckled, “He’s a boy, leave him alone.” I leaned my head on Jude’s shoulder, a small smile on his lips.  I used to think I didn’t have a family, but looking around at my friends and the man by my side that I loved more than anything, I knew that I did have a family. I wasn’t alone. I was surrounded by people that loved me and I loved them just as much in return.  For so long I’d closed myself off from caring about anything and anyone. It was so much easier to build a fortress around my heart than risk getting hurt, but then this crazy cocky guy knocked it down and showed me what life was really about. I smiled up at him and he turned his head to smile at me. Fireworks lit up the night sky above us as we swayed our sparklers through the air. A part of me wanted to stay frozen in this moment forever, but life didn’t have a pause button and you had to keep moving forward. So that’s what I was doing.

AS I DROVE TO the farm my hand shook with nerves against the steering wheel. I wasn’t even nervous for myself, oh no this shaking jittery mess I’d become was reserved solely for worrying about Jude. I hoped and prayed that everything went okay when he met Julia and Archer. I was going to be there for support, but there wasn’t much I could do to distract him if this turned out to be a really bad idea. On second thought, I could probably flash him my boob and he’d be a happy camper. I’d stopped at Starbucks on my way to the farm and gotten myself an iced coffee. I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night and needed the caffeine to keep me awake. The lack of sleep was due entirely to the fact that while we were having lunch with Julia and Archer, my dad would be arriving home. Jude and I were supposed to have dinner with him and I was worrying myself sick over what might transpire between us.  Today was going to be full of family time, but I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. When I pulled up in front of the farmhouse I spotted Jude sitting on the porch steps, his elbows resting on his knees with his head in his hands. He looked as tired as me. I got out of the car, coffee in hand, and sat down beside him. “How are you feeling?” I asked, staring out at the horses grazing beyond us. “Scared out of mind,” he admitted. “I have a fucking brother, how weird is that, Tate?” He peered down at me with his dark eyes. “But what if he hates me? What if all this blows up in my face?” I set my drink beside me on the step and wrapped my hands around his muscular arm, giving it a light squeeze. “You can’t worry about that,” I shrugged. “Think positive. He might be a really cool guy, or he could be a major douche nozzle, in which case I will gladly kick him in the balls for you.” I smiled innocently, batting my eyelashes. That got him to laugh, which had been my goal. “You’d that for me, wouldn’t you?” “Uh, of course,” I looked at him like I was crazy. “I already took on a guy three times my size for you. I think I’ve proven my worth. After all, look at this face,” I pointed at myself, “no one expects me to be such a badass, so they never see me coming.” “God, I love you,” he laughed, slinging his arm over my shoulders and pulling my body against his. He rubbed his face into my hair, humming under his breath.  I narrowed my eyes. “Are you trying to distract me with your declarations of love?” I slid away from him, quirking my lips so he’d know I was only joking. “Check out these muscles, Brooks,” I flexed my arms. “I’m like your own personal bodyguard.” “Gotta keep the chicks away from me, don’t you?” He chuckled, reaching for me and lifting me onto his lap.  “Hell yes,” I nodded with a grin. “You’re a slut magnet. These bitches best learn to back up off my man.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, staring into his eyes. “Don’t worry,” I leaned forward, my voice growing serious, “I trust you.”

“You do?” He asked, surprise coloring his tone.  “I do,” I stated firmly. My voice softening, I frowned. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” He smoothed his fingers through my blonde hair and then took my chin in his hand. “It’s in the past now, baby. I’m over it. Sitting here with the woman of my dreams in my arms I’ve never been happier. That’s what I choose to focus on. Every relationship has ups and downs, Tate,” he smoothed his thumb over my jaw, “that’s normal. I’ve learned to cherish every moment you choose to spend with me.” His eyes dropped to my lips and his eyes darkened.  “Because with you by my side I’m the luckiest son of a bitch on this whole damn earth.” My lips quirked into a half smile. “That was quite the declaration.” “It’s the truth,” he stated flatly. His eyes darkened with heat. “You’re worth it all, Tate.” I grinned at that and he chuckled. “Ah, there’s the dimple I love,” he leaned forward, kissing my cheek. “I still don’t get to see it often enough,” he added with a slight frown. “We’ve got to work on that.” “Don’t worry, Brooks,” I burrowed my body against his, tucking my head under his neck, “I think you’re going to be seeing a lot more of it.” He didn’t respond and I felt his body stiffen in my arms. About that time I heard the sounds of the car.  I eased off of Jude’s lap to sit beside him. He reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. His Adam’s apple bobbed with nervousness.  “It’ll be okay,” I assured him. He nodded, his eyes never leaving the car. It came to a stop and dust from the gravel clouded the air. “What do I do?” Jude asked, sounding panicked.  I stood, giving his hand a light tug. “You go say hi and we go from there.” A tall guy got out of the SUV on the driver’s side. He appeared as nervous as Jude. His dark hair hung in waves over his forehead and his eyes were a piercing gray. He stood against the side of the vehicle with his arms crossed. A woman, Julia I assumed, got out of the passenger side. We all stood staring at each other for a moment and I decided it looked like I’d be the one to have to break the awkward silence.  I let go of Jude’s hand and stepped up to Archer. “Hi,” I squared my shoulders, determined not to show my nerves, “I’m Tatum, and this is Jude.” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder in the general direction of where Jude hovered. “This is all very awkward,” I whispered conspiratorially, like I was letting him in on a secret, “so why don’t we all just introduce ourselves and head inside for lunch? Sound good?” Archer chuckled, and his laugh sounded so much like Jude’s I nearly reared back. Then, when he pushed his hair out of his eyes and I got a good look at his face I was even more surprised by the similarities. They had the same pouty lips and angular jaw. While their eyes were different colors they both had the same shape and piercing quality to them.  “I’m Archer,” he extended his hand, “but I guess you knew that already.” He winked. Jude stepped forward and put a possessive hand on my shoulder. “Nice to meet you,” he said, but there was a hardness to his voice. Archer’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Don’t worry little brother, I’m not trying to hit on your girl.” He held his left hand in the air, tapping his thumb against his ring finger. “Happily married for the last six months.” “Oh.” Jude dropped his hand from my shoulder. Smiling sheepishly, he added, “Sorry.” Julia came around the vehicle and smiled pleasantly at the both of us. It seemed she’d needed a minute to gather herself. “I’m sorry, I…it’s strange being back here after so long.” She looked up at the house behind us. “I spent many years at this house when I was growing up.” Julia turned and smiled at me, then at Jude. “Can I hug you?” She asked Jude. He seemed startled by the question. He hadn’t said it, but I knew he expected her to hate him. After all, she’d caught Jude’s dad cheating on her with his mom. But looking at the kind woman in front of us, it was clear there was no bad blood—at least where Jude was concerned. “Uh…” He paused, his brows furrowing together. “Sure.” Immediately Julia enveloped him in her arms. It wasn’t the hug of a stranger either. No, she hugged him like a mom. I saw Jude relax in her arms and tears stung my eyes. Jude needed this more than anything else.

She released him and patted his cheek with a small smile curving her lips. “Where’s Jerry?” She looked behind us, waiting for him to appear. “He was taking a nap,” Jude shrugged. “He should be up soon. I…uh…I didn’t tell you when we talked but he,” Jude’s face crumpled, “Pap has Alzheimer’s.” “Oh.” Julia’s mouth parted in surprise. Archer didn’t have any obvious reaction, but I didn’t expect him to. He didn’t know Jerry. “Yeah,” Jude nodded, “he has good days and bad days. Today was a good day before his nap, so let’s hope it stays that way. Come on,” he nodded towards the house, “we don’t need to stand out here all day. I already fixed lunch.” “You cook?” Julia asked with surprise, following Jude inside.  “Yeah,” I heard him tell her as they stepped into the house. “I had to learn from a young age. Pap and —” They got far enough away that I couldn’t hear their voices anymore since I still stood outside with Archer. Neither of us seemed ready to go into the house. “So,” he shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels, “this is awkward.” I shrugged. “It only is if you make it.” Growing serious, I narrowed my eyes at Archer. “Jude is a good person. His parents really fucked him up, so much so that there’s a lot he won’t talk about when it comes to them and I realize he’ll probably never tell me everything because it’s easier for him not to think about it, and all the family he has left is his grandpa. He needs you in his life. He needs someone he can depend on. Someone who’s family. Don’t hurt him,” I stated flatly. “If you do, I won’t hesitate to hunt you down and cut off your balls, and use them as ornaments to decorate my Christmas tree.” Archer busted out laughing. I narrowed my eyes and widened my stance, with my hands on my hips. “I’m serious,” I warned. “You must love him a lot,” Archer chuckled, trying to hide his smile behind his hand.  “More than I ever knew possible.” I held my head high. Something about Archer made me feel intimidated, but I refused to show that I was affected by him.  He smiled slowly. “I guess we better get in there so I can get to know my baby brother.” As we headed slowly towards the house, I asked him, “Was it weird for you, finding out you had a brother?” Archer halted his steps and looked down at me. Jude was tall, but Archer was taller. I swear he had to be at least six foot five. He was a giant. He loomed above me, an intimidating force. “Surprisingly, no,” he shrugged. “I didn’t know my dad at all, but I always assumed he moved on and married someone else, had a few kids…a life without me,” he said softly. “I know things will probably be awkward for a while, but I’m glad to know I have a brother and I want to have a relationship with him. My mom never remarried, so I was an only child growing up.” His eyes flicked to the house and back to me. “At first, when my mom told me about Jude—before I talked to him on the phone—I was really mad, because he grew up with a mom and a dad. He quickly set me straight on that,” Archer sighed heavily. “It seems like I got the better deal. My mom’s awesome and she always made sure that I had everything I needed and provided me with a stable loving home. Jude didn’t have that.” “At least he had his grandparents,” I inserted. I nodded towards the front door. “Come meet Jerry. He’s your grandpa too, and trust me you’ll never have met a more amazing person than him.” Voices were coming from the sunroom so that’s where I led Archer. Julia was sitting in a chair while Jerry and Jude sat on the couch. When Archer and I approached Jerry came to stand. His limbs were shaky and I knew it had everything to do with nerves and not old age. His eyes lit on Archer and my mouth fell open in surprise as he began to cry. He stepped forward and enveloped Archer in a hug. Archer glanced at me in surprise, but slowly returned the gesture, patting Jerry on his back. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I never knew,” Jerry cried into Archer’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Jerry,” Archer said as they parted. Jerry wiped the moisture from beneath his eyes. “Please, call me Pap.” He clapped Archer on the shoulder and led him over to the couch so he could sit between Jude and him. I went to sit in the other free chair, but Jude’s hand snuck out, catching me around my waist and I was pulled onto his lap. He kissed my neck, and whispered, “I need you.” I leaned my head on his shoulder in comfort. I understood completely what he meant. I’d do whatever it took to get him through this day, and if he needed me close to him then that’s what I’d do. Tonight, I

would need his support.  I rubbed the back of his neck soothingly, and kept quiet while he interacted with Archer and Julia. Things were a bit tense for a little while, but soon everyone got comfortable and we ate lunch in the kitchen.  Jude and Archer left so he could get a tour of the house and property. Julia smiled at the guys as they walked off. She looked from Jerry to me. “I never thought this day would come.” “Did you know about Jude?” I asked with surprise. She nodded with a sad smile. “I did, but the way things ended between Andrew and I, I didn’t think it was the best thing for me to reach out.” She shrugged, pushing her pretty auburn hair out of her eyes. For being in her forties I thought she was gorgeous. Her skin was flawless and her eyes were bright. Despite the bad hand life had dealt her, she’d come out better than most. It was obvious in the way she carried herself and the smile that was nearly permanent on her face that she was happy. “I can understand where you were coming from.” I assured her, not wanting her to think I judged her for keeping the brother’s apart. I sincerely hoped that Archer and Jude would grow close. Based on how things had gone so far today, I had nothing to worry about. There was definitely an awkwardness between them, but with each passing minute it lessened. “You two seem very much in love,” she commented.  Jerry chuckled, and his smile was pleased. I knew Jerry was looking forward to Jude and I progressing in our relationship—like marriage and babies, but he was going to have to wait a few years. At least for the baby part. I wanted Jude to myself for a while. “Yes, we are,” I smiled. I knew there was a happy flush to my cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.” And that was the truth. I’d suffered nearly two weeks without him, and I’d been as depressed then as when I lost my brother. “It’s nice to see people young and in love. So carefree,” she propped her head in her hand. “I miss that.” “You’re still young—” Before I could continue she snorted. “No, really,” I added. “You could still find someone and have your happily ever after.” She smiled sweetly, her eyes soft. “Honey, I did get my happily ever after, it just wasn’t the one they write about in romance novels.” She reached across the table and patted my hand in a motherly gesture. Looking across the table at her I couldn’t believe that we’d found Julia, and subsequently Jude’s brother because of it. If Jerry had never called me Julia, I would’ve never started wondering about the mysterious girl. Life worked in funny ways.  I made a pot of coffee while we waited for the guys to return. When they did it was time for Archer and Julia to leave. Both promised that we’d meet up again next week for dinner—either at the house or a restaurant. Jude’s smile seemed permanently glued to his face. He hugged Archer and Julia goodbye, and I was surprised when both opened their arms to hug me.  I’d known Jude was worried that they might hate him, or just be horrible people, but everything had worked out perfectly. Jude had a brother who clearly wanted to get to know him, and given enough time I could see the two becoming close. Even Julia seemed genuinely interested in knowing Jude. I hoped she’d become a mother figure in his life since his was absent. I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to meet his parents. He barely talked about them and seemed to have nothing to do with them. But I knew all about having shitty parents and let’s face it if I completely blocked them out of my life it would be a whole lot easier than having to deal with them. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I never took the easy route. My mom was still in a home for the foreseeable future—maybe even forever—but with my dad coming home today, I’d decided to try to have a relationship with him. I hoped our dinner went well and we could move past everything. After all, reading Graham’s letter seemed to have a profound effect on him. I guess I only had to hope that it lasted and that his anger management had helped—even though he was out of the facility, he still had to attend meetings three times a week. I think more than anything, I just wanted to have a dad. I’d lost my brother, and my mom—because let’s face it, she was off her rocker—so my dad was the only family I had left. 

I shook my head free of my thoughts and followed Jude and Jerry to the porch, where we watched Archer and Julia get into the SUV and drive away. “Well,” Jerry smiled, patting Jude’s shoulder as he passed him on his way back into the house, “I don’t think that could’ve gone better.” Jude nodded his head in agreement, watching until the SUV disappeared from sight. While Jerry went inside, probably to watch TV, Jude and I stood outside for a while. He seemed lost in his thoughts, so I let him think. Eventually, he turned to me with a grin curving his lips. “Thank you.” I jerked back in surprise. “Thank you? Why are you thanking me?” He chuckled, reaching for my hand. “Because, you’re the one that said we should find Julia. Without you, I wouldn’t have known about Archer…that I had family.” “Jude,” my throat constricted with emotion, “you never need to thank me for that.” “I know,” he pulled me in front of him and I leaned my head against his chest, “but I wanted to.” He trailed his fingers over my stomach and up my t-shirt. Heat filled my body and I let out a small moan. It didn’t matter how many times he touched me I always wanted more. Jude chuckled low against my ear. “Tate?” “Yeah?” I panted as his hands skimmed higher, coming up to cup my breasts. “It sounds like you want me.” He bit my earlobe. “I always want you,” I replied truthfully. Anywhere, anytime. I was like a big ball of want when it came to Jude. What had he done to me?  “Really?” His teeth lightly bit into the skin where my neck met my shoulder.  “Mhmm,” I hummed, my eyes closing. “I like that, Tate,” he growled low in his throat, “I love that what I do to you turns you on.” His thumb rubbed circles around my belly button. My chest rose and fell with each heavy breath and I could barely keep my eyes open. “I need you. Now.” I panted, and he hadn’t even really touched me yet. Just teased.  “Your wish is my command,” he growled, his voice low and husky. He turned me around and captured my lips with his own, before lifting me up and hauling me over his shoulder. The air got knocked out of my lungs and I was pretty sure his shoulder bruised my stomach. But I’d take the pain if it meant I got to have him. Jude ran inside and started up the steps. “We’ll be in my room, Pap…cleaning.” I heard Jerry chuckle and call after us. “Cleaning? Sure, that’s what they call it these days.” My cheeks flared with a blush, but I wanted Jude too bad to care.  He jogged down the hall into his room and slammed the door closed and locked it behind us. He tossed me onto the bed and I bounced up and down a few times, letting out a small squeal as I tried to keep from falling off his bed. While his bedroom at the townhouse was that of a man—gray walls, and black furniture—this was the bedroom of a boy. The walls were painted dark blue, the furniture was clearly hand-me-down and the comforter had blue and gray stripes on it. Clearly he’d never bothered to replace it.  I didn’t have long to look around, though. He stalked towards me, reaching behind to hook his thumbs in the back of his shirt. He yanked it over his head and threw it across the room. All that tan, muscled, and rippling flesh was a feast for my starved eyes. My tongue flicked out to wet my lips and then he crashed on top of me, pushing my body against the mattress. He pressed his whole body against me and took my face between his hands, staring into my eyes—staring right down to my very soul.  “I love you,” he whispered, and before I could reply he kissed me.  My hands gripped his arms, my nails digging into his flesh. I needed him closer. I needed more. This wasn’t enough. I pushed at him until he rolled over and I could straddle his hips. I leaned forward and my hair created a shield around us as I lowered my head to kiss him this time, taking control.  His fingers were bruising where he gripped my thighs and I knew he was struggling to hold himself back from taking things too fast.

He didn’t understand yet that no matter what we did, fast, slow, easy, or hard, I loved it all, because it was with him. I laid my lips against his, not really kissing him, just feeling him.  I then opened my mouth and pulled his bottom lip between my teeth—letting it go with a pop. “Fuck,” he groaned. I ignored his comment and trailed my index finger over his nose. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I love these freckles.” You couldn’t see them from far away, but when you were face to face like we were now there were small freckles sprinkled across his nose and more over the tops of his shoulders. I thought they were adorable and gave him a boyish quality. But honestly, I loved everything about Jude because I loved him. Inside and out.  “You like those do you?” He smoothed his thumb over my cheek. I nodded, biting my lip. “As much as you love my dimple.” “That’s a lot then.” He chuckled warmly. His voice lowered and he murmured, “Now, where were we.” He closed the distance between us, kissing me sweetly. My body turned to liquid as his hands rubbed my body.  “Jude,” I gasped between our lips, “please.” “Tell me what you want.” He nibbled my lips with his teeth and massaged the nape of my neck. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” “You,” I breathed, my eyes closing, “only you.” He flipped me onto my back and eased my shirt off of my head. His movements weren’t rushed. “You have me, baby.” He growled low in his throat as he peppered kisses over my stomach. My body squirmed against him and he pressed a hand against my chest to still my movements. He chuckled as his hot breath blew against the top of my shorts, making my hips buck. “Simmer down, Tate. I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Oh, God. With his hand on mine he undid the button and zipper on my shorts and started to pull them down. I shimmied my hips a bit to help him.  “You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that, right?” He stared up at me with hooded brown eyes. “I know you make me feel beautiful.” I gasped as his fingers parted my underwear and slipped inside me. I fisted the comforter between my hands and hissed between my teeth. “Don’t ever forget that, baby,” he murmured, and then his mouth was on me. Sweet mother of all things holy! My brain short-circuited from all the nerves tingling in my body. “Jude,” I moaned, squirming against him as his tongue laved at my center. My fingers delved into his hair and I wasn’t sure if I was trying to pull him closer or push him away. “Jude,” I tried to find my voice again, but it was barely above a pant. “I need you. Naked. Now.”  He chuckled, his body vibrating against me and I almost came right then. “My sweet Tate is so impatient today, but baby,” his voice lowered further and he looked up at me with darkened eyes, “you’re going to have to find some patience, because this isn’t going to be quick.” His lips quirked up, promising delightful and devilish things. “Can we do slow and then fast?” I begged, not even caring that my tone sounded whiney.  He bit my thigh and I yelped. With a smirk, he shrugged, “Whatever you want,” and then his mouth was on me once more. My breaths filled the air as I struggled to hold on, but the way he was working his tongue…well, I was a goner. A small scream escaped me as my body shook and then he was on top of me, his hand over my mouth. “Shh,” he soothed, “let’s not scare the old man downstairs.” My cheeks colored with embarrassment. I’d totally forgotten where we were and that his grandpa was downstairs. In actuality the house was large enough that there really was no concern of him hearing us, but that thought didn’t stop me from feeling uncomfortable. “Sorry,” Jude nuzzled my neck, “I didn’t mean to kill the mood.” His fingers ventured back down and my thoughts from before disappeared. I was pretty sure he could use sex to make me forget anything. “You have the sweetest pussy,” he growled, pushing his fingers further into me. “You feel and taste so fucking good.”

My cheeks colored at his words.  Jude raised his head and smirked when he saw the blush staining my cheeks. “Does my dirty talk embarrass you? ‘Cause baby, that’s not even as dirty as it gets.” My cheeks grew redder and I could feel the heat spreading to other parts of my body. “It does,” he chuckled, brushing his lips against my collarbone. “That’s cute, Tate. Come on, say something naughty for me.” I wanted to bury my face in my hands, but my hands were currently grasping the comforter as his fingers worked me and I was pretty sure if I let go I’d float away. “I don’t know if I can,” I panted, my hips grinding against him. He kissed me deeply and released my lips. “Yes, you can. Please. For me?” I was sure that my skin had to be an unattractive red color at this point. “Jude,” I groaned, wanting to kick him.  His fingers left my body and he used them to trace my lips. My tongue flicked out automatically and I could taste myself on his fingers. “You can do it, Tate,” he murmured. “It doesn’t have to be naughty. Just…push your limits a bit.” Fuck. He wasn’t going to leave this alone. He rolled off me and lay on his back, crossing his arms behind his head. He turned slightly to look at me. A playful smirk turned up his lips. “No sex for you until you say something dirty.” I eyed the bulge straining against his jeans and stared him down. “Really?” “Really.” Waving his hand over the top of his jeans he smirked. “I don’t want to, but I can always take care of this myself,” he then gestured with said hand to show exactly what he meant, as if I didn’t already know. I sat up, my hair falling forward to cover my breasts, which were still covered by my bra. I bit my lip. Taking a deep, steady breath I steeled myself to say something that made me horribly uncomfortable. I leaned towards him and his eyes sparkled. I let my lips brush against his ear and murmured, “I want your cock inside me.” Okay, so it definitely wasn’t the dirtiest thing I could say, but for me…it was pushing it. Jude smiled wickedly, seeming to like it, so maybe I’d have to get better at pushing my sexual boundaries.  In record time he unclasped my bra, took off my panties, and removed his jeans and boxers. He maneuvered me with ease so that my head was on the pillow and my hair fanned around me. He stared at me like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but there was something else I saw in his eyes, and that look could only be summed up in one word. Love. L. O. V. E. Four simple letters, but when you combined them together it created the greatest emotion we ever experienced as humans. I’d never truly known what it meant to love another human being until I met Jude. Yes, I loved my family, but that kind of love was different. It was the love of blood and bonds. But the love I had with Jude it was a choice. My choice. He gave me happiness and he pushed me to be a better person. We had our ups and downs and more would come in the future, but I’d learned that it was worth working through, because this kind of love wasn’t something you gave up on and you did have to work at it. It wasn’t easy, but it was right. He took my lips between his as he guided himself inside me. My body tightened at first and then relaxed to allow him inside. He slid out all the way and murmured, “Say it again.” If this didn’t feel so good, I’d probably kill him for torturing me. Instead of whispering it, this time I clasped his face between my hands and stared into his eyes. “I want your cock inside—” Before I could finish he pushed into me and I gasped. He moved slowly, rolling his hips against mine in a way that had my back arching and my fingers clawing at his back. Sweat dampened our skin as we moved. He lowered his head, swirling his tongue around my nipple, and then showing attention to the other. I whimpered from the delicious pain as he lightly bit it. Fuck, he knew what he was doing. I was going to have to get over my embarrassment and read a book or something so I could show him the same

kind of attention, because he deserved it. He quieted my cries with a kiss when I came. When my body stopped shaking he pulled out and I whimpered. He climbed off the bed and grabbed my ankles. I yelped as he pulled me down the bed and turned me over. He smacked his palm lightly against my ass and I let out a squeal. “Jude!” I gasped with surprise. His only reply was a chuckle. Figures. He smoothed his hand over the spot he just smacked. “I couldn’t resist.” He grasped my hips, positioning me the way he wanted. His fingers found my folds and then I felt his…cock—maybe if I started thinking the dirty words more then they’d stop feeling so…well, dirty— nudge my entrance. He slid in all the way and my gasp was so loud that he gave my ass another light smack. “Quiet, Tate.” He warned. “Feels so good,” I hummed, turning my head so I could see him behind me. He stood so strong and powerful, but his hands touched me gently.  He leaned down so his chest covered my back. He grabbed my hair, pulling it away from my face. “You said slow, then fast, so get ready, Tate. I’m not holding back.” Oh, the look in his eyes. It was full of mischief and excitement. I felt my groin tighten around him. “Yes,” I gasped. “Please. Hard. Fast. Now.” Apparently I could only speak in one-word sentences at the moment. Jude didn’t seem to mind, though. He lifted up and grasped my hips.  He slid out of me and back in roughly. The headboard banged against the wall and I would’ve thought it was funny if I wasn’t too preoccupied focusing on the way his body felt joining mine. Holy fuck, I really loved this position and wondered why we hadn’t tried it before. He was so deep and hit something inside me every time he pushed into me. “Fuck, Tate,” he growled and his fingers dug into my hips harder. My legs began to shake. I turned my head further so I could watch him. His head was bowed back, his eyes closed, and his mouth slightly parted. The muscles in chest and stomach flexed and rippled with every movement. Watching him like he was now, I realized he’d been holding back on me. He hadn’t wanted to push me too far, but this time he was letting go and taking what he wanted, and I fucking loved that I could give it to him. He pulled out, stroking himself and then sticky warmth covered my back. He collapsed beside me with a grunt.  “Jesus.” He groaned. “My name’s Tate,” I retorted with a lazy smile.  He cracked his eyes open. “Such a wise ass,” he chuckled. He reached over, running his index finger along my lips. “You’re lucky I love this smart mouth of yours so much.” “Is that so?” I asked, stifling a yawn. After our lovemaking I was exhausted. My lids lowered with the threat of sleep. “Mhmm,” he nodded, looking as tired as I felt. “Don’t move,” he warned, rising from the bed. He pulled on his boxers and headed into the hall. He returned a moment later with a damp cloth and wiped off my back.  “There,” he murmured, leaning further up my body to kiss the back of my neck. I rolled over to face him as he tossed the cloth in a hamper. He opened a drawer on his dresser and grabbed a shirt. He tossed it at me and I managed to catch it, despite the fact that my tired body didn’t want to move. I slipped the long-sleeved shirt over my head, reveling in how it smelled like him. I nearly drowned in it though. I knew when I stood the length would nearly hit my knees. Jude climbed onto the bed beside me. He pushed the covers down and then pulled them over us. He spooned my body against his and yawned. “Nap time.” “What about dinner with my dad?” I rolled over to face him, suddenly alert. He lifted his head so he could see the clock that rested on the nightstand. “We have plenty of time,” he assured me. “Now roll back over,” he tickled my side, “so I can hold you.” I did as he said, not because he was being bossy, but because I wanted to. I’d become used to Jude wrapping his body around mine as we drifted off to sleep.  In fact, it was getting more difficult to go to sleep without him.

Since we’d worked things out he’d brought up living together a few more times, but I always shot him down. It wouldn’t take much more convincing on his part for me to give in. The fact of the matter was, I wasn’t scared anymore. Jude told me he wanted it all with me—a future filled with marriage and babies. I used to never imagine my future, but now I did, and it included Jude as my husband and a dark haired baby boy. One day. One day soon.

I SAT STRAIGHT UP, staring around the dark room. Wait… Dark. Room. “Oh, shit.”  My eyes darted to the clock and widened at the time.  “Jude,” I groaned, pushing his shoulder.  “Hmmm?” He hummed in his sleep. He cracked one eye open. “What?” “We were supposed to be having dinner with my dad an hour ago!” I slid from the bed, frantically searching for my clothes. “We slept too long!” “Fuck,” he growled hotly, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’m sorry, Tate.” “Don’t say you’re sorry!” I cried, grabbing my shorts off the floor. “Just get out of bed and get dressed. I have to call him and tell him we’re coming.” “Oh, we came alright,” he smirked.  “Jude!” I picked his shirt up and threw it at his head, where he sat on the edge, deliciously rumpled. He laughed as he put his shirt on. “It’s true,” he shrugged. Once we were dressed we did our best to fix our rumpled appearance, but it was futile. It would take my dad two seconds to figure out what we’d been up to. I only hoped he didn’t comment on it. I wasn’t sure I could handle the embarrassment right now. Since I’d driven here by myself we had to take separate cars to my house. I used the time to try to calm down. I told myself repeatedly that everything would be okay, but so far I didn’t believe my own words. It might’ve been better if Jude and I could’ve ridden together. I was sure he’d have done a far better job at making me feel better, because my self-imposed pep talk wasn’t working.  When we got to my house I was shaking like a leaf.  “Everything’s going to be fine, Tatum,” I told myself one last time before pushing my stiff body out of the car. Jude met me and took my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Everything is going to be fine.” They were the same words I’d just told myself but they sounded more believable coming from his mouth.   Jude paused at the front door and gave me time to catch my breath. When I knew I was okay—well, as okay I could be—I nodded and he opened the door. The house was so eerily quiet that I almost believed he hadn’t arrived home yet, but when we entered the kitchen it was lit up, and he sat at the same spot at the kitchen table where he’d been the last time. Only now, he looked very different. His eyes weren’t angry and tired; instead they were full of trepidation and worry. He’d put on a little weight and his smile wasn’t grim like it was before. He wasn’t quite normal—or the smiling, loving dad I remembered from most of my childhood—but it was an improvement. So, I’d take it. “Hi, Tatum,” he nodded at me, clasping his hands, with a sad smile on his lips. “Jude.” He nodded at him too. “Sit, please,” he waved his hands at the free chairs. “I got your message that you were running late so I just ordered the pizzas. They should be here shortly.” “How are you?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what the customary thing to say in a situation like this was, so I settled on that. It seemed harmless and safe enough. “Better,” he replied, his shoulders lifting slightly in a barely-there shrug. “I have a long way to go.” He cleared his throat and looked between Jude and I. “I want to apologize about the horrible things I said to you both. I wasn’t…well.” He flinched. “I hope you can both forgive me.” I nodded and Jude did

as well. Speaking solely to Jude, he said, “I’m so sorry for the hurtful things I said and that you witnessed. You are good enough for my daughter.” Lowering his head, he mumbled, “You’re a far better man than I am.” He lifted his head gradually and when he looked at me tears shimmered in his eyes. “I was horrible to you, Tatum. I can’t believe the things I did and said to you. To your brother. Your mom,” he bit down on his fist and shook his head. Regaining his composure, he continued, “I will spend the rest of my life regretting everything I’ve done. I wasn’t a good husband or father.” “You weren’t always horrible, dad,” I interjected. “There were good times. Remember those too, they shouldn’t be forgotten just because there’s bad.” I slid out of my seat and walked over to him. He startled when I reached out to hug him. “I love you, dad.” Pulling away, I looked into his eyes, “But you have to understand that I need to protect myself and if…” I closed my eyes, taking a steadying breath so I could say what I needed to say. “If things go back to the way they were before, I will leave.” He nodded his head. “I understand. I’m trying my hardest to be better.” “I know,” I kissed the top of his head. “I’m putting the past behind me and we’re starting new.” I stared into his eyes so he’d know I was serious. “It’s up to you to decide where we go from here. Understand?” His eyes closed and he let out a shaky breath. “I understand.” “Good,” I stood up straight as the doorbell rang. Jude left to get the door and came back carrying the pizzas. “Let’s go to the family room and watch TV.” I pointed and Jude immediately turned on his heel, heading out of the kitchen. I turned to look at my dad over my shoulder. “Come on, dad. Let’s put a movie on and eat. Like the good times.” “Like the good times,” he mimed, pushing his hands against the table as he stood. He grabbed my arm, halting me in the doorway so I couldn’t leave. My heart sped up and my throat closed with fear, but I forced myself to relax. My dad was better now, but that didn’t stop me from fearing him. It would take time for me to completely be okay around him again, but I was going to do my best, because I wasn’t lying when I told him I wanted us to move forward. He was my dad after all. “When did you get so grown up?” He asked me, his mouth tilted down sadly. “Where’d my little girl go?” “My brother died,” I shrugged. “My mom shut down and my dad,” I eyed him, not in angry way, just bluntly, “was an asshole. I didn’t have any choice but to grow up at a young age.” Shoving my hands in my pockets, I shrugged. “I’m twenty-two, I’m really not a kid anymore.” Peering around the corner towards the family room where Jude waited, I added, “Love made me stronger. It gave me something to fight for when I didn’t have anything else.” My dad didn’t reply. Forcing a bright smile, I brushed past him. “Let’s eat.”

THE SUMMER WAS GOING by insanely fast and before I knew it, it was the end of June and I was helping my best friend into her wedding dress. Rowan Sinclair was thirty minutes away from becoming Rowan Wentworth. I was nervous, so I had no doubt that she was. “I’m scared,” Rowan admitted, as she stared at her reflection. It was almost as if she’d picked up on my thoughts. “Me too, and it’s not even my wedding,” I laughed. “But this is Trent and you love him more than anything. Everything will be okay.” “My heart’s racing so fast.” She breathed as I stepped away to make sure the dress was on properly. “I’m terrified, but at the same time I’m so ready to be his wife.” She turned to look at me and tears shimmered in her eyes. I prayed she didn’t start crying and mess up her makeup—the makeup artist would probably kill us. “I’m ready to take that next step with him.” I soaked in her words, words I’d been repeating in my head as of late. While Jude and I had only been together for a few months, it felt like forever and I knew I would never want another man like I wanted him. I was still scared to take that leap, but I felt ready. Rowan sat down and I fixed the diamond pin in her hair. Her hair had been curled in an elegant up-do. Olivia and mine had been done in a loose fishtail side braid—casual, but elegant. Ivy was currently getting the finishing touches put on her hair. Even though she declared that she was too old she was going to be the flower girl.  Olivia sat in the corner rocking a fussy Grace.  “I swear,” Olivia groaned, grabbing Grace’s small fist before she could yank on her braid, “Grace only likes her daddy. She cries almost every time I hold her.” She frowned, straightening Grace’s peach colored dress that matched the shade of ours. “Aw,” Rowan frowned, “you know that’s not true.” Olivia’s eyes widened and she laughed. “Oh no, it’s true. She’s a very cranky baby, but Trace can work some kind of voodoo mind magic on her. I call him the baby whisperer.” With a smile, Olivia asked Rowan, “So, when should we expect baby number two?” Rowan’s cheeks flared and her eyes flickered to her sister, me, and then back to Olivia. “That’s what the honeymoon is for,” she finally answered, lowering her gaze. Olivia grinned and I tried to contain my laugh. I failed.  Rowan looked up at me and let out a soft sigh. “Trenton can be very convincing when he wants something, and the more we talked the more I could see where he was coming from.” “You don’t need to justify it to me,” I assured her. “As longs as this is what you want, I’ll support you. Especially since it won’t be my baby. I can spoil them and then when they cry I can give them back to you.”

Rowan laughed. “Sounds like a plan.” Someone knocked on the door and then it swung open. It was Lily, Trace and Trent’s mom, and she was dressed to perfection. Her gown was a lovely rose color that complemented her complexion and her dark brown hair cascaded around her shoulders. She didn’t look her age at all. “Are you all ready?” The lady finished with Ivy’s hair and nodded her head.  “It’s time for everyone to get lined up.” Lily clapped her hands together. Her eyes softened when they landed on Rowan and she held back tears. “Oh, Rowan, you look stunning.” “Thank you,” Rowan bowed her head slightly. Raising it, she bit her lip. “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you, but I’ve been too scared.” “Go ahead, sweetie,” Lily encouraged, coming to stand by Rowan’s side. “Well,” Rowan looked up at Lily, “I don’t have any parents, so I was hoping, maybe…” Rowan bit her lip, her eyes darting nervously from Lily to the floor, “that you’d walk me down the aisle.” Lily gasped and dove at Rowan for a hug. “Oh, sweetie, of course I will.” Rowan’s eyes widened with shock as she lifted her arms to hug Lily back. Clearly she wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. The wedding planner showed up then, guiding us out of the room and to where we were to wait. The wedding was being held on the back lawn of Wentworth mansion. I hadn’t seen how it had been transformed yet, but I was sure it was magical. I knew not to expect anything less from the Wentworth’s. I caught sight of Tristan, who had Bartholomew—Trent’s ferret—on a leash, and tied around the critter’s neck were Trent and Row’s wedding bands. I couldn’t help laughing about it.   Rowan giggled as well. “Trent was adamant that Bartholomew be a part of the wedding in some way, so I let him have his fun.” We lined up in order and since Trace was Trent’s best man he was to escort me, and Jude had Olivia.  Jude looked me up and down, licking his lips like I was a dessert he wanted to devour. When his eyes met mine, he chuckled at being caught and sent me a wink.  Trace held out his arm for me and I took it, adjusting my grip on my bouquet.  The music started up and that was our cue. The aisle was made of white and pale pink flower petals—the ones Ivy dropped were painted silver— giving it a mythical appearance, like we were in a fairy garden or something. Trent stood beneath an arch of some kind of large white flower that I didn’t recognize. His hands were clasped together and he looked dangerously handsome in his tuxedo—although, I had to admit I thought Jude looked even better in his. Poor Trent looked scared out of his mind, and he was probably afraid Rowan would change her mind and turn into the runaway bride. She’d run from him a lot, so his fears were justified, but I knew Rowan wasn’t going anywhere. Trace and I reached the end of the aisle and I released his arm. He went to stand by his brother— giving him a firm pat on his shoulder, before lowering his head to whisper something in his ear. Jude smirked at me and went to stand by Trace. The music changed and everyone rose to look at Rowan as she started up the aisle. I heard Trent gasp and murmur, “Wow.” Rowan’s eyes lowered and her cheeks flushed as her groom gazed upon her. She looked excited and scared all at the same time.  Lily kissed her on the cheek and gave her hand to her son.  “You’re beautiful.” Trent whispered to her as she handed me her bouquet to hold. Their vows were exchanged quickly to the hoots and hollers of the friends and family gathered. “You may now kiss your bride.” Trent grasped Rowan’s waist and dipped her down, kissing her in a way that should be illegal in public. I started to blush and turned away, feeling like I was invading on a private moment. Trent lifted her back up and kept his arm wrapped around her. He swiped his thumb across her bottom lip as they were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth. They headed back down the aisle and everyone started to stand.  Jude came to stand by my side, his eyes excited. “Let’s do that.” “What?”

“Get married. You said you’d marry me, so let’s do it.” He nodded his head excitedly.  “Today?” I gasped. “Here?” “Why not here?” He countered.  “Uh…” I blanched as people fluttered around us. “Because it’s Trent and Row’s wedding.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You know they won’t care. Please, Tate,” he reached for my wrist and I was sure his fingers felt my pulse jump. “Marry me today.” Before I could reply he was dragging me through the crowd to where Rowan and Trent stood. “Would you guys mind if we got married today? I really can’t wait another second to call this woman my wife.” Rowan’s mouth fell open and she let out a squeal. “Do it!” Fuck. Jude turned to me. “See, they’re cool. There’s nothing but you stopping us now, Tater Tot.” “I-I-” I stuttered, looking from Jude to our friends. “But your grandpa isn’t here. Or your brother. Or your friends.” “All it takes is a phone call to change that,” he argued. Sobering, he let out a deep breath. “I know I said we’d wait till you were ready, but I don’t want to wait, Tate. I know you’re it for me and I want to be married to you.” I swallowed thickly, feeling panicky. Not because I wanted to say no, but because my answer was very much— “Yes,” I grinned. “Yes, let’s do it!” “Ahh!” Rowan screamed, throwing her arms around me. “This is so exciting!” I was surprised that she was so thrilled, because I really felt like we were hijacking their wedding. Trent seemed to find the whole thing very funny, standing there with a smirk on his lips and his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “You two need to go get a marriage license,” Rowan pushed Jude and I towards the French doors that led inside the house. “I’m going to talk to Olivia and see if we can find a different dress for you. Something a little more…bridal.” “Rowan, this is fine,” I pointed to my peach colored bridesmaid dress. “No, no, no,” she shook her head, her lips set into a firm line. “You need a proper wedding dress or something close to it. Now, go! Hurry!” She gave us another firm push towards the door. Jude grasped my hand and we ran through the mansion. After a few wrong turns, we finally made it to the foyer and out the front door. They’d hired a valet to park cars on the expansive property, so Jude handed one of the guys a slip of paper. A few minutes later his truck pulled up and we left quickly. He called Archer, telling him to pick up Pap and make sure they dressed nicely. He even extended an invite to his wife, who we hadn’t met yet, and Julia. From what I could overhear of the conversation Archer was curious about what was going on but Jude wouldn’t tell him that we were getting married. He hung up from Archer and called Dylan, inviting the guys. He once again left off the part that we were getting married. Jude seemed to know where we needed to go to get a marriage license. That made one of us. As the female I probably should’ve been the one to know this stuff, but I was clueless. He parked the truck and we headed into the building. It didn’t take long for us to fill out the paperwork and sign our names.  Butterflies assaulted my stomach as I gazed at my signature. It was the last time I’d write my name as Tatum O’Connor. From this day forward I was Tatum Brooks. I couldn’t believe we were actually doing this. Not after everything we’d been through and how much I’d fought the idea of marriage and living together. But Jude won. He was right; this was inevitable so why delay it? It was time for us to start the rest of our lives… together. Before we went back to the mansion he stopped at a jewelry store. “Gotta have rings,” he grinned, turning off the truck. We hurried inside the store and separated so we wouldn’t know what each other picked. I settled on a simple, but thick, platinum band for Jude. It wasn’t flashy and I knew he’d love it. I shivered at the thought of seeing the ring on his finger, marking him as mine.

I gasped as I realized I hadn’t even thought to call my own dad. What the hell was wrong with me? I guessed I’d spent so long with barely-there parents that I’d kind of forgotten about them. Horrible, I know, but it was the truth. I’d been on my own for years, so it was easy to forget to include them in my life. Or in this case just my dad. I didn’t have my phone with me so I’d have to borrow Jude’s when we got back in the truck. Since it didn’t take me long to pick and buy his ring I stood by the door waiting. When he finally appeared his grin was wide. “I can’t wait for you to see this,” he held the bag to his chest. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his head to kiss me quickly. “Not long now,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine as he spoke. We climbed in the truck and I asked for his phone. I gave my dad the same spiel that Jude had given Archer and Dylan. My dad sounded suspicious though and I really hoped he didn’t figure out what we were up to. Regardless, I wouldn’t apologize for doing this. I was finally allowing myself to do something that I wanted. I wasn’t holding myself back and doing the responsible thing. I was letting my heart guide me. Jude reached for my hand, entwining them together. “Are you second guessing this?” “Not at all,” I squeezed his hand. “I’m so ready for this.” I grinned. True, I felt a little fear, but I figured most people felt that way on their wedding day. Mostly there was excitement. Jude lifted our joined hands, kissing my knuckles as he drove. “I don’t want you to regret this.” “I couldn’t regret you,” I replied immediately. “Never.” He glanced at me and grinned. “God, I love you.” I laughed, my cheeks lifting as I smiled. “I love you too, Jude, and I always will.” I laid my head on his shoulder. He grew quiet and after a moment he said, “We need to make one more stop.” “Where?” I lifted my head as I asked him.  “You’ll see,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. I narrowed my eyes as I pondered what he could possibly be up to.  When he pulled up at the nursing home I was still confused. “Why are we here?” I unbuckled my seatbelt and followed him into the building. Breezing past the sliding glass doors, he finally answered me. “Mr. Jenkins said he better be invited to our wedding, so I’m breaking him out of this place and letting him come. The guy deserves a little fun in his life.” I smiled up at the man I loved so much. He had such a big heart and he never ceased to amaze me. I couldn’t believe I used to hate him. I hadn’t known him at all and once I did get to know the real Jude, I saw that there was no one else like him. He was special and he’d always be mine. “Hi, Trudy,” Jude greeted the lady at the front desk.  She looked up and smiled widely at us. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at your friend’s wedding?” Jude nodded, and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against his side. “Yeah, we were there, but now Tatum and I have decided to get married. Today,” he added bluntly. Trudy’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked between the two of us. “Oh, wow. That’s exciting.” “It is,” Jude agreed. “But I was wondering,” he lowered his voice and gave her his most charming smile, “if it would be possible for me to pick up Mr. Jenkins and take him with us. He was very adamant about being at my wedding and I want him there. Please, Trudy?” Jude batted his eyelashes.  I wanted to roll my eyes at his ridiculous display, but of course Trudy caved. “I’ll see what I can do.” Twenty minutes later we were on our way, Mr. Jenkins in tow, with strict orders to have him back by eight tonight.  “I knew you two would get married.” Mr. Jenkins smiled proudly in the truck—I was stuck sitting in the middle, practically on Jude’s lap. I didn’t know how he drove. “I knew it too,” Jude agreed. “Even though Tate wanted to fight me the whole way.” Skimming his fingers along my neck, he murmured, “But no one can resist my charm.” He was definitely right about that. 

We got back to the mansion and went in search of our friends. Rowan ended up intercepting me and shooing Jude and Mr. Jenkins away. I watched them leave, laughing at Mr. Jenkins’ wide-eyed expression as he looked around the mansion in awe. It was pretty impressive so I couldn’t blame him.  “Who’s the old guy?” Rowan asked, watching them leave as well. “Mr. Jenkins. He’s a patient at the nursing home Jude works at,” I shrugged.  “Oh, that’s cool,” she smiled. “It was sweet of Jude to want to bring him. Now come on,” she grabbed ahold of my arm, dragging me up the main staircase, “we found a dress for you.” I was pulled into the bedroom we’d used to get ready in earlier. Olivia and Lily stood inside waiting for us.  I expected them to be angry about what Jude and I were doing—after all, Lily wasn’t family to me, and I didn’t really know Olivia all that well—but they were smiling happily and eager to help. “Do you want to change your hair?” Rowan asked, already reaching to pull out the braid. “I like it the way it is,” I assured her. She immediately dropped her hand and went over to the chair in the corner. She turned back around to face me with a white dress draped over her arm. She bit her lip nervously and held it up. “I hope you like it.” The dress was short and I knew when I put it on it would hit just above my knees. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver sparkly band around the waist. The bottom of it flowed without being poufy. It definitely wasn’t the traditional wedding dress, but it was perfect. “I love it, Row.” I reached out to touch the fabric. “This is perfect. How’d you find it?” She shrugged. “It was mine. I got it for a homecoming dress in high school and never got a chance to wear it. Someone should.” “Please tell me you didn’t leave your wedding to go get this,” I frowned. “No, of course not,” she hastened to assure me, “I got someone else to go.” I reached for the dress and took it from her hands. “Thank you so much for this.” She waved her hand dismissively. “No thanks needed. I’m just happy to see my two best friends getting married,” she clapped, doing a small happy dance. I still marveled in the differences in Rowan since she’d been with Trenton. Gone was the quiet girl only focused on school and creating a better life for her son and sister. She was so full of life now. “Now,” she held up a finger warningly, “don’t try to hijack my honeymoon. I’m not sharing that with you,” she laughed. “Deal,” I agreed, laughing too. Lily and Olivia left Rowan and I alone while she helped me into the dress.  Rowan grabbed some lip-gloss off a table and swiped it on my lips. “You look beautiful, Tate.” She fixed a piece of hair back in place and put her hands on my shoulders. “It’s time to get you married.” I soon found myself standing where we’d waited earlier before walking down the aisle. I turned to Rowan, grabbing her arm. “Can you grab Jude’s grandpa and my dad?” “Of course,” she smiled, and headed outside to get them. When they stepped inside I pulled them away from the others so we could have the semblance of privacy.  “I’m sure by now you’ve probably figured out that Jude and I are getting married—” My dad opened up his mouth to speak, and I knew from the steep set of his brows he was going to try to talk me out of this. “No, dad. This is what I want. Nothing you can say will change my mind.” I squared my shoulders and took a breath. “I know it’s customary for the father to walk the bride down the aisle, and while I want you to do that, dad, I also want Jerry to be by my side.”  I turned to face Jude’s grandpa and tears pricked my eyes. “You’ve become a huge part of my life and it doesn’t seem right to celebrate this day without making you a bigger part of it. So, I’m hoping you’ll walk me down the aisle as well.” “You know I’d do anything for you, Tatum,” he reached out to hug me. Wetness stung my shoulders and I realized he was crying. I was relieved that he’d called me Tatum. A part of me was afraid today would be one of his unfortunate bad days, and he wouldn’t remember Jude and I getting married.  Once everything was straightened out, Rowan stood as my bridesmaid and Trent was at her side. “Oh,” she shoved a bunch of Twizzlers tied together into my hand. “Jude told me to give you this as your bouquet. He said you’d understand.” Lowering her voice, she said, “One day you really have to explain this whole Twizzler thing to me.” I laughed as I stared at the red candy in my hands. Only Jude. I was surprised he hadn’t glued gummy bears onto the Twizzlers. 

“You ready?” Rowan asked. I nodded and she signaled to someone outside the doors. Music started up and my heart lurched as my stomach dropped. This was it. The first day of the rest of my life. Time seemed to speed up as Jerry and my dad walked me down the aisle and towards Jude who stood waiting for me. He grinned proudly with his hands clasped together. His brown hair was gelled messily and stubble adorned his cheeks and chin. His brown eyes shimmered with happiness and I kept thinking mine. When we reached him he held out his hand for mine. I took it and my dad and Jerry drifted away to sit. I’d been so focused on Jude that I hadn’t realized that the crowd attending our wedding was much smaller than Trent and Row’s. Everyone that had attended their ceremony must’ve been down on the grounds at the reception already. I was glad for that. This way it was only our friends and family, making it seem more like our own wedding—and not someone else’s, which was exactly what it was. Jude took both of my hands in his. He couldn’t seem to stop grinning and neither could I.  The minister or preacher or whatever he was began his lengthy speech.  My heart thumped against my chest so hard I was surprised it didn’t break free and fall to the ground. Then, before I knew it, it came time for the vows. Jude repeated after the man, “I, Jude Gabriel Brooks, take you Tatum Elizabeth O’Connor, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do us part.”  He slid two bands on my finger. The first was more of an engagement ring—a simple silver band with a modest sized diamond. “My Grams,” he explained. “Pap gave it to me to give to you…when you were ready. I feel like I’ve been carrying it in my pocket forever, because when I asked you to marry me, I knew you weren’t ready to wear this. But now you are,” he grinned triumphantly. The second band he put on my finger was the ring he got today. I gasped at its beauty. It was an infinity band with many small diamonds. It was simple and stunning. Absolutely perfect. I couldn’t have picked anything better for myself. My body shook when it was my turn. I stared into his eyes as I spoke each word, so he’d know I meant them completely.  “I, Tatum Elizabeth O’Connor, take you Jude Gabriel Brooks, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do us part.” Rowan handed me Jude’s ring and my hands shook as I slipped it onto his finger. I smiled in satisfaction at seeing it on him and then turned my gaze to him. We’d done it.  We were married. It might not have been a traditional wedding—not by a long shot—but it was spontaneous, crazy, and fast just like the two of us and the journey of our relationship. I couldn’t ask for more.  The man officiating the wedding smiled. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.” “About fucking time,” Jude groaned, taking my face between his hands and kissing my deeply. I felt his tongue press lightly against mine and I moaned into his mouth. With a hefty breath he pulled back. “You’re mine now, Tatum Brooks.” “I was always yours,” I grinned back, staring into the loving eyes of my husband. He looked over at Rowan, who stood behind me. He grinned proudly, and said, “I told you I was going to marry this girl.” This girl. His girl. Jude’s girl. Forever.

ARMS WRAPPED AROUND ME from behind and I giggled as I was pulled against a hard chest. “Jude,” I laughed, “I’m trying to cook.” He pressed kisses to the skin where my neck met my shoulder. “I’ve been working all day. I miss you. Let me kiss my wife.” I let go of the wooden spoon I’d been using to stir the sauce for the homemade spaghetti and turned around to wrap my arms around his neck. I stood on my tiptoes to give him a proper welcome home kiss. Jude put in many hours at the nursing home and I always missed him when he was away from home—and home happened to be his grandpa’s farmhouse. Jerry still lived here, which worked out well since we could look after him, but he’d given us the deed to the house. A wedding present he said. Jude and I had spent the last two years working on fixing it up. We still had a few more things to fix, but it was almost complete. We’d had to halt renovations last month when our daughter was born. So, she definitely wasn’t Jude Jr., but Juliette was the light of our lives. I’d thought I’d loved Jude before, but having our daughter only made me fall in love with him more. He was so good with her, and the way he looked at her almost always brought tears to my eyes. What could I say; I was highly emotional these days. Having a baby will do that to you. Seeing her daddy, Juliette began to stir in her bouncer. Jude kissed my forehead and then went over to her. He lifted her out and cradled her in his arms. She was beautiful—not that I was biased or anything. She had light brown hair, her daddy’s pouty lips, and my nose. She was perfect. “Hi, my beautiful Juliette,” Jude cooed to our daughter. “Did you miss daddy? Because daddy sure missed you.” He kissed the top of her head and inhaled her sweet baby scent. Once I found out I was pregnant I’d started looking for jobs I could do at home. The last thing I wanted was to miss out on any moment of Juliette’s life, or any children we might have in our future. I’d been lucky enough to find a job writing for an online magazine. I got to do what I loved and be with my daughter all day. It was a win-win. Jude rocked Juliette in his arms, singing to her. Her eyes grew large as she listened to him. Despite the fact that she was only a month old she was already daddy’s little princess. Jude spoiled her rotten. I knew as she got older he’d make sure she got everything she wanted. Except boys. I feared the day she started dating. Jude was going to go lose it. Smiling at the loves of my life I couldn’t help thinking how crazy it was that if Professor Taylor had never given me that assignment, and I hadn’t needed Jude’s help, we’d never be where we were now. Things had worked out exactly as they were meant to and I couldn’t be more thankful. I had everything I’d never known to want. “Thank you.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them as I gazed at Jude. He stopped singing and stared at me. “For what?” “Giving me this…you…our daughter…for never giving up on me.”

“Oh, baby,” his eyes softened as he stalked towards me, “you don’t need to thank me for that.” He kissed me slowly and Juliette stirred in his arms. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, soaking in his warmth with a smile on my face. Happiness came in many shapes and forms. This happened to be mine.

Micalea Smeltzer is an author from Virginia. Her name is pronounced Muh-call-e-uh. She is permanently glued to her computer, where she constantly writes. She has to listen to music when she writes and has a playlist for every book she’s ever started. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading a book or playing with her three dogs.