ALMOST HIM

S.M. SHADE

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Acknowledgements for the Almost Duet

Where to Find S.M. Shade

Copyright © 2022

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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 art by Melissa Gill Designs

Formatting by Pink Elephant Designs

CHAPTER 1

“Ella Booth! What have I told you about charging down those stairs like a herd of buffalo?” Mom scolds before she can even see me. Without giving it a second thought, I leap over the last few steps, round the corner of the living room, and burst into the kitchen that’s filled with the heavenly smell of bacon.

“Sorry. Tori’s mom is paying us to wash her car this morning.”

Mom smiles and slides a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of me. “I know. Tori has already called for you. Eat before you run off.”

I’m so excited I can barely sit still while I eat. It’s the first day of summer freedom. I’m officially done with fifth grade. The long warm days are all mine, and I can’t wait to meet my friends.

“Has Dad left for work?”

Mom sits across from me with a cup of coffee. “Yes, but he left you the tools you asked about. In a blue plastic toolbox in the garage. He said to tell you they’re all yours but to be careful in that treehouse. And if you break a leg, don’t come running to him.”

Giggles spill out of me at his lame joke that he never gets tired of telling. “What are you doing today?”

“I promised Mrs. Taylor that I’d help her get her garden planted. Make sure you have your key and get home before dark. There are sandwiches in the fridge for lunch if I’m not home.”

It’s the same speech I always get on summer mornings. Just last night Dad reminded me of the boundaries and how far I can go without getting into trouble. Since I turned eleven, he even agreed I could ride my bike to the corner store as long as one of the other kids is with me.

“Okay, can we have a bonfire tonight?”

Mom grins at me. “We’ll see.”

It’s taken me about five minutes to gulp down my breakfast. After rinsing my plate and putting it in the dishwasher, I grab my bright blue lanyard with my housekey and loop it around my neck, tucking it under my shirt.

My brother, Garrett, stumbles into the kitchen with his eyes half open and mumbles something close to a hello when Mom says good morning. He’s become a real weirdo since he turned fourteen. Mom says it’s normal but I’m never going to be like that.

“See you later!” I tell her, bound for the front door.

“Be careful and have fun!”

“You too!” Her laugh follows me out the door.

My flip flops make the best noise as I walk down the middle of the street. I love my street. It dead ends in a cul-de-sac. There are only six houses so there’s almost no traffic and everyone knows each other.

“There you are,” Tori yells. She threatens to spray me with a hose when I run up her driveway where she waits with buckets and sponges. Tori Porter is my best friend since Kindergarten and my next door neighbor. “Mom said she’ll give us ten dollars each if we wash the van too!”

The day keeps getting better. That’s enough to rent movies and get snacks. “Let’s do it!” I grab a sponge and get started scrubbing the front bumper beside her.

Tori’s stepsister, Lori, pokes her head out of the front door. “Tori! Where is my butterfly barrette! I know you took it!”

“I did not!” she yells back at her. “Maybe you lost it in Gary’s backseat!”

Lori opens her mouth to yell back but Tori’s mom intervenes, pulling her back inside. Probably to ask what she was doing in seventeen-year-old Gary’s backseat.

“Fourteen made Garrett weird, but being fifteen must make you a bitch,” I tell Tori, keeping my voice low.

Tori grins and slops more soap onto the car. “I got my mouth washed out for calling her a bitch last week. Mom said I should use the word unpleasant instead.”

Giggles spill out of me. “Then she’s an unpleasant bitch.”

“She is. But also...” Tori shoves her hand in her pocket and whips out the missing butterfly barrette. “Ta-dah!”

Our peal of laughter is interrupted when a voice rings out from behind us making us jump. “Aw, I’m telling!”

Alden stands there with a wide grin on his face.

“You are not,” I reply, sticking my tongue out at him while Tori bounces a wet sponge off his head. “Where’s Oliver?”

Alden and Oliver Stokes are identical twins who live across the street from me. They’re almost always together.

Alden shrugs and picks up the sponge. “I don’t know. Doing something boring. Let’s go to the treehouse.”

Tori and I return to our job. “Later. We’ve got to wash the car and the van,” I inform him.

Tori turns and sticks her hip out. We read it was sexy in one of her mom’s magazines that she swiped, but it looks silly to me. “Help us get it done and I’ll buy you a candy bar.”

Alden mulls it over. “And a pop.”

Tori looks at me, and I nod. It’ll get done faster. “I’ll buy his pop.”

“Deal.” Alden joins us and between spraying each other, we manage to get the vehicles clean.

Tori runs inside to collect our money from her mom while Alden and I sit on the curb, letting the water in the gutter run over our bare feet. “I love that smell,” I remark.

“What smell?” Alden replies absently, as Sawyer Underwood approaches on his bike.

“The smell that happens when the pavement gets wet in the heat.”

“There’s no smell. You’re a weirdo.”

His words bounce off me. “There is too a smell. You’re the weirdo if you can’t notice it.”

Sawyer skids his bike to a stop. “Ella, I’m trying to collect for my paper route. Nobody answers at your house.”

Sawyer is the cutest boy in the neighborhood. At least I think so. He’s taller than the other boys and has curly blond hair. “Mom is over at the Taylor’s place. Do you want me to get her?”

He flashes a smile at me, showing a row of blue tipped braces. “Nah. I have to stop there too. Thanks.”

“Sure. Yeah.”

Sawyer races away, and I look into Alden’s grinning face. “What?”

“You like him.”

Damn it. “Do not.”

Alden gets to his feet. “You do too. You’re blushing.”

“It’s from the sun!” I defend hotly.

Alden’s voice goes up into a falsetto. “Oh Sawyer, you’re so cute when you ride that bike and throw papers. Please be my husband and have little paperboy babies.”

“Shut up! I do not like him.”

Alden grins when I cross my arms. “Better not. He’s almost fourteen. He’s too old for you.”

Yeah, but not a weird fourteen. “And you get to say who’s too old?”

“Yep.” He jumps back when I stomp the water, making it splash him. “That’s my job as your friend.”

“What’s your job?” Tori asks, joining us and handing me my money.

“Keeping Ella from dating the paperboy.”

“I’m not dating anyone!”

Tori looks around frantically. “Sawyer? Was he here? He’s super hot.”

Alden throws his hands up in exasperation.

Time for a change of subject. “Come on. Let’s get the bikes and go to The Stop Along.”

“Then the treehouse,” Alden adds.

The Stop Along is a corner store a few blocks away. It shares a building with Hull’s Video, where we rent movies. It’s the place where everyone in the neighborhood goes for cold drinks and snacks. Cigarettes if you’re older.

After we load up on snacks and drinks, we head for the treehouse. Oliver meets up with us when we cut through my yard and reach the edge of the woods.

About two miles of forest backs up to our dead end street. If you walk in a straight line all the way through, you come out at the highway on the other side, but none of us are allowed that far. Not that it has ever kept us from going, but there’s usually no reason to. The treehouse is where we want to be, or the creek that winds through not far from it.

We ditch our bikes at the edge of the woods and hike back to our treehouse. Dad built it along with help from Mr. Taylor when I was eight. It’s not high off the ground, only about eight feet, but it’s big enough to hold six kids. Today, it’s empty when we show up and I’m glad. We have lots of friends from the two streets alongside Arcade Court, but I like it when it’s just Tori, the Stokes brothers, and me. We have a lot of fun.

“What’s in the backpack?” I ask Oliver when he slides it off his shoulder.

“A couple of jars. Dad wants tadpoles and minnows from the creek for bait. He said he’d pay us if we catch some.”

Alden scoffs and sits on the wooden floor. “I’m not falling for that again. He never pays up.”

“I also brought Uno.” Oliver pulls out a pack of cards.

“Yes!” Tori exclaims. “Let’s play. I need a rematch.”

Alden grins at her. “Why do you insist on punishing yourself like this? You know I’m going to win.”

“That’s because you cheat.”

Alden opens his mouth like he’s shocked. “How would anyone even cheat at Uno?”

“By stacking cards and laying down more than one on your turn,” Oliver says.

“Dude, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

Oliver starts dealing the cards. “Ha! Like you were when Tori said I was wearing wiener shoes?”

“That was a hard fact to argue, bro, give me a break.”

“They were loafers,” Oliver insists.

“Let’s let Ella settle it.” Alden looks at me. “Ella, you saw the shoes in question. Wiener shoes? Yes or no.”

They were some pretty ugly loafers, but I don’t want to hurt Oliver’s feelings. “I—”

“Come on, it’s not that hard,” Alden interrupts, beaming at me. “Spare my brother the embarrassment of wearing them again.”

It’s hard not to laugh but I manage to stop at a smile. “I mean, they would be fine, like…for church.”

“If you’re a seventy-year-old man,” Tori adds, and Oliver shoves her, grinning despite being the target.

We all gather up our cards and start the game. It occurs to me how happy I am. I’m with my best friends and we have the whole long summer ahead of us.

We spend hours in the treehouse, playing games and hanging out before walking to the creek. While Alden helps Oliver catch the minnows, Tori and I sit on the bank and dip our feet.

“Can I spend the night tonight?” Tori asks.

“Of course.” During the summer, I don’t even have to ask Mom. She always lets us stay at each other’s houses when school isn’t a consideration.

“Thanks. Mom and Luke are arguing again. She didn’t ask him before buying some new clothes, and he’s mad.”

Alden walks up to us, wading through the water with his hand wrapped around a frog. “Look girls, I found a prince. You just have to kiss him.”

He shoves it toward Tori. “Hey baby, how about a smooch?”

“Ew!” Tori leaps up and steps backward.

“Aw you hurt his feelings.” Alden turns the frog around and talks to it. “Poor little guy just wants a kiss.” He thrusts it toward my face. “Ella? It might turn into Sawyeeeer.”

I like frogs. He’s not going to get a reaction out of me. “You kiss him. He seems to like you.”

He purses his lips, pretending like he’s going to kiss it. The frog isn’t having it and chooses that moment to jump from his hand. It lands on his head, right near his temple, and holds on for dear life while it pees down the side of his face.

“Dude, that’s not water,” Oliver hoots, pointing at his brother.

“Oh gross!” Alden snatches up the frog and shakes a finger at it. “Not cool! Not cool!”

Whatever is said after that, while Alden stalks over to the deepest part of the creek to wash the frog pee off him, I don’t hear. I’m laughing too hard. Tori and Oliver are cracking up too. He’ll never live this one down.

“It’s lunch time,” Tori says, after we catch our breath. “I have to go.”

“Don’t forget to ask about staying tonight,” I remind her.

Oliver gathers up the jars and slings his backpack on. “We’d better get to lunch too.”

Alden waves at him, then sits beside me. “Go ahead. I’m not hungry.”

“Getting peed on kill your appetite?” Oliver dodges the clump of mud Alden throws at him, then he and Tori start for home.

Once they’re gone, I lean back on my hands, watching the water flow by. “You don’t want to eat?”

“Mom’s on a cleaning rampage today. If I go back there, she’ll put me to work. Are you going home?”

“Not yet.” It’s nice here and I’m not that hungry. I’m thinking about what Tori was saying about her mom not being allowed to spend money. I’ve never heard my parents discuss how they divide things up. Does Mom have to get permission? I doubt that. “Does your mom have to ask your dad for money?” I ask. “Like Tori’s mom?”

“Probably. I don’t know.”

With a sigh, I lie back and look up through the canopy of the trees. I love the way they let you get peeks of the sky without the sun blinding you. “I’m never getting married. No one is going to tell me what to do.”

Tucking his arms behind his head, Alden lies back next to me. “You’re going to marry me. I won’t tell you what to do.”

“You just did.” We turn to look at each other and fall into giggles. “Besides, the frog already marked you as her property. Isn’t that how it works?”

“Are you saying I need to pee on you before you’ll marry me? Because that’s gross, El.”

“Ew! No!”

We lie there in silence for a few more minutes until my stomach growls. “Want to eat at my house? My mom left ham sandwiches,” I offer.

“Sure, thanks.”

Neither of us says much during our walk back through the woods and to my house, but all I can think about is what he said about marrying me. I’ve never thought about it before, but Alden is cute and funny. He’d be a good boyfriend. You know, if Sawyer doesn’t happen.

CHAPTER 2

Warm rain falls in soft intermittent showers, as it has all day. After spending most of the day at the treehouse, I’ve spent the last hour curled up on the porch swing with a book. Mom and Dad are out and won’t be home until very late. Garrett is supposed to be keeping an eye on me. Ha. As soon as he knew we were on our own, he told me not to do anything stupid and headed to his girlfriend’s house.

It’s fine. I’m twelve. I don’t need a babysitter anymore. He does more stupid things than I do. I’m trying to decide if I want to invite Tori over to watch a movie when the Stokes’ front door bursts open and shouting fills the air.

It’s not out of the ordinary for Alden and Oliver’s parents to argue out in the yard. Mom says it’s low class, but hey, when you’re mad, you’re mad. I don’t always think about who can hear me when I’m yelling at my brother.

This time is different. I know it from the second Mrs. Stokes follows her husband into the yard. “You can’t do this to us! Think about the kids, Max, my god.”

She sobs while he shoves an armful of things—clothing, it looks like—into the backseat of his car. He stalks past her, keeping his head down until he gets back into the house. She’s right behind him when he goes in and comes back out. He balances two large boxes that get deposited into the trunk.

She grabs his arm, hanging onto him for dear life, but he shakes her off like a gnat. “Max, please, tell me what I can do! You can’t leave us. What will we do? Please, I love you.”

Oh no. It finally clicks what I’m witnessing.

She continues to plead with him while he carries two more loads out to his car. My heart breaks when I see Oliver and Alden come outside. Are they going with him? Surely not.

Oliver grabs his father, and I can hear him crying. He’s begging him to stay. Whatever Mr. Stokes tells him isn’t anything he wants to hear.

What do I do? I want to go over there and comfort my friends. But it’s such a shocking, raw moment, I don’t know whether I should. Dad always says you keep family business private. Is it intruding on someone’s family business if it’s happening for the whole neighborhood to see?

Because I’m not the only one outside now. Tori gives me an uncertain wave from her front step, and Adam Underwood, who lives next door to them, has a front row seat.

I hover at my top step, unsure about what to do. If anything.

When Mr. Stokes has his last box loaded and starts toward the car, Mrs. Stokes’ behavior takes a sharp turn. She lets out a loud screech that stops him in his tracks.

“Go to your fucking whore then! Go and show everyone what a piece of shit you are! Abandoning your wife and kids for some bar slut! You cheating, heartless bastard! I hope your dick rots off!”

“Oh my god,” Tori whispers, joining me.

“We should do something.”

Tori shakes her head. “Mom told me to stay away. She’s watching from the front window.”

It’s the only parental advice available so I should take it. Tori sits beside me on the top step and slips her hand into mine while we watch our best friends’ family explode.

Oliver runs out to his father, who stops long enough to hug him and say something that we can’t hear from this far away. Rain starts to fall harder. The dejected expression on Oliver’s face and the droop of his shoulders when he walks back to the porch is heartbreaking.

Through all of this, Alden hasn’t said a word. He’s stood the whole time at the edge of the driveway, glaring at his dad. Mr. Stokes turns toward him and holds his arms out, an invite for a good-bye hug.

I can’t imagine how they’re feeling. A lump rises in my throat when I try to put myself in their shoes. If my dad suddenly decided to leave us, if my mom was begging him to stay, I couldn’t handle it.

After a moment of hesitation, Alden walks across the yard, swiping his wet hair out of his eyes. His dad says something and reaches to hug him.

Alden pulls back his fist and punches him in the mouth.

Tori grabs my arm, our shocked gasps loud in the sudden silence. Alden has grown a couple of inches since he turned thirteen, but his dad still towers over him. My lungs scream while I hold my breath, waiting to see if he’s going to hit him back.

He doesn’t. Mr. Stokes only tries to hug him again. Alden lands another punch, this time to his nose, before Oliver wraps an arm around him from behind and pulls him back.

Mr. Stokes shakes his head like he’s disappointed, then gets into his car. As soon as he pulls away, Alden turns and runs toward the woods.

“Alden! Get your ass back here!” his mother shouts, but he pays no attention. She bursts into tears and rushes back into the house.

Oliver seems torn over whether to chase after Alden or comfort his mother. I leap to my feet and wave at Oliver. “I’ll go check on him!”

Oliver nods and goes inside.

When we step off the porch into the yard, Tori’s mom calls out to her to get home. “It’s okay,” I tell Tori. “He’s probably at the treehouse. I’ll go find him.”

“Call me later.”

The rain has no mercy, but the trees help protect me when I run into the woods. It’s a good thing I’ve left a couple of flashlights in the treehouse because it’s going to be dark soon. The smell of wet trees is thick. The sound of the drops on the leaves chase me down the trail.

I don’t know what I’m going to say to him, but I know I don’t want him to be alone. The wooden ladder is slick under my hands and feet. I’m careful not to fall while I scramble up and poke my head into the treehouse.

It’s empty.

Damn it. Where did he go? There’s a flashlight in the crate in the corner, and I scoop it up before climbing back down the ladder.

The creek. He must be there. I’m not crazy about going deeper into the woods alone now that darkness is quickly taking over, but I’m not leaving him out here. I’m sure he doesn’t have a flashlight.

The sound of the rushing creek reaches me before I get to it. After today’s rain, it’s really swollen. The trees part, revealing the small clearing, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see him. Alden sits under a tree on the bank of the creek, his knees bent, his head hung between them.

His shirt clings to his back, soaked through. The wind picks up, raising goosebumps on my damp skin. Maybe I don’t know the right thing to say, but the sight of him alone and hurt erases any doubt about what to do.

He doesn’t hear me until I sit in the mud beside him. Alarm widens his red eyes and he jerks his head to face away from me. “Get out of here!” he snaps.

He’s crying. And he doesn’t want me to see.

I click off the flashlight and remain beside him. When he doesn’t yell at me to leave again, I put my arm around him. Keeping his head down, he scoots closer to me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing to say,” he replies with a sniff.

“Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Praying he doesn’t, I add. “Do you want me to leave?”

He reaches over and takes my hand. “No.”

It occurs to me we’re sitting in the same spot where we laid a year ago discussing marriage and whether or not men should be the boss of wives. Way back when I was eleven and he was twelve.

I’m not sure how long we sit there. Long enough for it to get full dark, for the sky to clear and the moon to peek out. A few tears leak down my cheeks, but he doesn’t see them. I can’t help it. It’s sad to see him hurting. And Oliver and Mrs. Stokes. What will they do? Will they have to move? Will they be okay?

Finally, he speaks up, his voice husky. “He’s not coming back.”

I squeeze his hand. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

His head whips side to side. “No, he won’t. And if he does, I’ll pick up something to hit him with next time.”

I lean up against him, joining our body heat against the chilly wind. “You popped him pretty good this time.”

A small snort of laughter is a relief to hear. “It isn’t the first time he’s cheated on Mom. She keeps forgiving him. But this time, he’s leaving to marry the woman he cheated with. She lives in Texas.” He sighs. “I always used to wish he’d leave. Because they fight all the time. But I didn’t think.” He shakes his head.

“You didn’t think he’d actually leave?”

“I guess not, and I didn’t think about what we’d do or what could come afterward.”

“Maybe it’ll be like Tori. You know, how she goes to visit her dad sometimes.” She also has a stepdad and step siblings she isn’t crazy about.

“I doubt it. I don’t know.”

I turn and hug him. His arms wrap around me and squeeze tight. “You’ll be okay. Your mom will figure things out.” Isn’t that what parents do?

A shiver runs over me, and he lets me go. “You’re cold. Let’s get out of here.”

We get to our feet, hands still locked, and I hand him the flashlight. We’re silent on our walk back until we get to my yard. He stares at his house like it’s a snake that might bite him. “I don’t want to go home. Mom’s going to defend him and that pisses me off. Oliver will too.” He blinks and looks at me. “I’ll never understand how they don’t see him like I do. I know he’s my dad, but…he’s not a good person.”

It must be terrible to know that about someone you love. How confusing. “It’s okay that you love him though, you know? I don’t think we really get a choice.”

He nods. “Not anymore. I hate him. I’ll always hate him.”

“Okay. Then I’ll hate him with you.” A genuine smile blinks on his face for a moment. “Let’s watch a movie at my house. You can borrow some of Garrett’s clothes.”

“Thanks.”

After I find him a pair of my brother’s shorts and a tee shirt, he pauses at the bathroom door. “Would you mind calling my house and letting Mom know where I am? I don’t want to talk to her, but I also don’t want her reporting me as a runaway.”

“Sure, okay.”

It’s an uncomfortable call to make, but Mrs. Stokes tells me it’s fine for Alden to stay and watch movies. We end up on the couch in the living room, eating the beef taco dip and nachos mom left for dinner, then watching two of our favorite movies. He doesn’t talk anymore about what happened, and I don’t bring it up.

By the time the second movie is over, he’s asleep.

It isn’t out of the ordinary for any of us to have sleepovers. It’s not like I haven’t seen him sleep before, but something about the sight of his slack face this time keeps drawing my eyes back to him. Maybe it’s because he looks peaceful after such a rampage of emotions. The Stokes’ boys are cute. No doubt about it. But until this moment, I’ve never noticed so much. We’re friends. The cute guys I get crushes on are older, like Sawyer.

His lips sit slightly apart and for the first time, I wonder what it’d be like to kiss him. I’ve never kissed a boy.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts when Garrett walks in. Before he can wake him, I put my finger to my lips and point to the kitchen. He follows me out of the living room, and I fill him in on everything that happened. We make a quick agreement not to tell Mom and Dad about me being in the woods at night, then he retreats up to his room.

About half an hour later, Mrs. Stokes taps on the door. She looks awful, like she’s cried every tear she had in her body, but she gives me a wan smile.

“Hey, come in,” I tell her. “Alden’s asleep in the living room.”

“I’m awake.” Alden’s voice from behind me makes me jump, and he cracks a grin. “See you tomorrow, El.”

He accompanies his mother back across the street, and I stare after them for a minute, hoping they’ll be okay.

If there’s one thing I learn over the next year, it’s that okay can be relative. Physically, the Stokes family seem to be doing fine. Mrs. Stokes gets a job as a bartender, and while she probably isn’t making as much money as her husband was, they aren’t starving. They also don’t have to move. It means the boys are left on their own a lot, especially at night, but at fourteen, that isn’t illegal or out of the ordinary.

Oliver seems a bit withdrawn, but he’s always been the quiet one. The biggest change has been in Alden. He gets in trouble a lot at school and at home. He hangs out with some older kids, cuts classes, and sneaks out of his house to meet up with them. He’s nice to me when he sees me, but he doesn’t spend much time with our group of friends anymore. Not even at the treehouse.

I wonder if he’ll show up tonight. My parents are throwing a bonfire party for the neighborhood. They’ve done it for the last few years in the fall, just to get everyone together before it gets too cold outside to enjoy it.

It’s usually fun. Even the younger kids get to stay up late, run around, and play. Tori’s stepdad brings over his grill to set up alongside Dad’s and there’s always a ton of food. And alcohol for the adults.

“Ella!” Tori squeals, plopping down in the seat beside me on the school bus. “Girl, what are you thinking about so hard?”

“Oh, uh, the bonfire tonight, I guess. I was zoned out. Did you say something?”

“You’re not going to believe this! Jake asked me to go to the dance!”

The seventh grade dance was last month and neither of us went. Seventh graders are allowed at the eighth grade dance but only if they’re invited to be the date of an eighth grader. The whole seventh grade is abuzz about it, hoping to go. Tori has had a massive crush on Jake Young for months and her eyes are bright with excitement.

“He did? That’s great! He’s so cute!”

“I know! I’m super excited!” She bites her bottom lip for a moment. “He also asked me to sit by him on the ride home. You don’t mind if I bail on you, do you?”

“Of course not! Get back there!”

Giggling, she hugs me and darts to the back of the bus to sit with Jake. Alden and Oliver are the last two to get on the bus. Oliver grins at me and is clearly planning to take Tori’s seat, but Alden beats him to it.

“Your partner in crime stole my seat so you’re stuck with me,” he says with a grin. I swear, the twins only get better looking. Even in what my mom calls the awkward phase, they’re too cute for their own good.

“Oh, hi, do I know you?”

“Sure you do. I’m the guy you’re going to marry someday, remember?”

Rolling my eyes, I bite back a smile. “Decided to go to school today?”

He shrugs. “Had nothing better to do. Why is Tori sitting in the back? You two have a fight?” He flashes a grin. “Was it over me?”

“Get over yourself,” I laugh, shoving him. “She’s sitting with Jake. He asked her to the dance.”

“Ooh asked by an older man. Scandalous.”

All it takes is a few minutes of being around Alden and the butterflies in my stomach start fluttering. “Shut up. You’re the same age. Are you going?”

A small sliver of hope grows at the possibility he might ask me to be his date. It’s snuffed out by a snort.

“To the dance? No way.”

“Are you coming to the bonfire tonight? Or does that also not meet your entertainment standards?”

He smiles at me, and I feel it in my chest. “Why? Do you miss me?”

“God no.”

“Too bad. I’m coming. Now scoot over, you’re hogging the whole seat.” The bus ride home is only about ten minutes, but it’s nice to have the time to talk and joke with him again. Not that I’d admit it, but I have missed him. His stupid jokes and quick smile. I’m glad he’s coming to the bonfire. Maybe he’ll start hanging out again and stop being such a troublemaker.

Tori, Oliver, Alden, and I walk home from the bus stop as a group. Tori and I talk the whole way about what kind of dress she’s going to get for the dance until we all split up to go home and get ready. I’m just getting to my front door when Oliver calls my name.

He runs up my front porch steps. “Hey, Ella, um, I wanted to ask you if you might want to, um, be my date for the dance?”

My jaw drops. Oliver and I spend a lot of time together, even more so since Alden isn’t around as much. He’s never seemed interested in a date or anything like that. We’re just friends. Before I can answer, he continues.

“I thought, you know, since Tori’s going, you might want to. It could be fun.”

He’s so adorable right now with that shy smile. “I’d love to go with you.”

His face lights up. “Cool. I mean, great, yeah.”

“We can talk about it tonight, okay? I need to help my parents set some stuff up.”

“Of course! See you in a little while.” He bounds down the steps, then looks back when I call his name.

“Oliver, thanks for asking me. I can’t wait.”

Beaming from ear to ear, he nods, then rushes across the street.

Oh my god, I’m going to the eighth grade dance! I’m barely inside before I’m ringing Tori’s phone to tell her. After a few moments of squealing celebration, I hang up to see Mom and Dad behind me.

“Oh no, it’s starting,” Dad says, teasing me.

“Your first dance!” Mom exclaims. “We’ll have to go shopping. Who asked you to go?”

“Oliver.”

“And it’s one of the Stokes boys,” Dad groans. He slaps a hand to his head and walks out of the room.

Mom rolls her eyes at him. “You’ll have a great time. Now, come and help me set up for the bonfire party tonight.”

My head is in the clouds the entire time we get ready and through the first half of the party. A lot of people show up. Tori’s whole family is here, though her stepsister seems to be here under protest and has spent the entire time sulking in a lawn chair. The older couple from a few doors down, the Taylor’s, are enjoying themselves chatting with my mom while Sawyer’s Dads hang out with my dad at the grill. All the kids have just finished a game of manhunt—our combination of hide and seek and tag that’s fun to play at night when you can jump out and scare the crap out of each other—when I flop down into a chair beside one of the coolers. The cool night air dries the sweat on my skin, and I lean my head back to look at the stars.

Oliver grabs two soft drinks from the cooler and hands me one. “You look hot.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when his cheeks light up red. “I mean, you know, from running around. It’s warm out here.”

“Nah.” Alden seems to pop up out of nowhere. I was sure he wasn’t coming. “You had it right. Ella’s hot.” He winks at me while Oliver frowns.

Secretly thrilled to see him, I roll my eyes. “Did you get lost on your way across the street?”

He flops down on the grass between my chair and the cooler. “Were you waiting on me?”

“Are you kidding? We almost didn’t bother starting the party.”

My sarcasm makes him smile as it usually does. It’s good to have him back, acting like his old self again. He pops open the lid to the cooler, digs around, and pulls out a can of beer.

Without a word, he reaches up and snatches my soft drink to pull the foam can coolie off the outside of it. “Thanks, El,” he chirps, sliding it around the beer to disguise the can.

“You’re going to get caught,” I hiss.

“Are you going to tell on me?” His taunting smirk says he knows better than that. There’s not a kid in our neighborhood who would tell on another.

Alden chugs the beer and digs out a second, concealing it as Dad announces the food is done. Oliver hesitates when he sees their mom arrive and gesture to him to join her. “I’ll catch up to you in a bit,” he tells me.

“So, you drink now?” I ask, as soon as we’re alone.

“I do lots of things.”

The firelight flickers over his face while I stare at him. He’s only a year older than me, but he seems older sometimes. The look in his eyes has changed since his dad left. Oliver told me that he talks to him on the phone occasionally, but Alden won’t.

Before the conversation can go any further, my dad walks up to us and stares down at him. “Nice try. Hand it over.”

Uh-oh.

“Hand what over?” he asks, purposefully taking a large swallow. Dad takes the can out of his hand.

“The soft drink cans aren’t white on top,” Dad points out. He doesn’t sound angry. More amused. It probably wouldn’t be the same if I’d been the one he caught drinking.

Mrs. Stokes walks up, and Alden sighs, standing up. Dad pulls the can out of the coolie where his mom can see what he had and pours it on the ground.

“Get your ass back to the house, now!” she snaps.

“What? I can’t get one for the road?” Alden asks and dodges her when she tries to grab him. “Whoops, not fast enough.”

Dad reaches out and catches his arm. Alden pauses and raises his eyebrows at him, clearly contemplating whether he wants to push his luck. Instead of getting angry, he forces a grin. “Look, I like you, but this relationship is moving kind of fast for me.”

Dad’s lips twitch, but his voice is even and firm when he speaks. It’s his therapist voice. “Your mother told you to go home. Do I need to remind you where you live?”

Alden’s gaze touches mine for a quick second before he looks at Dad. “Nah, I’m not that drunk. I could use a burger to go, though. What do you say?”

Oliver speaks up from behind me. I’m not sure when he showed back up. “I’ll bring you a plate,” he offers.

He’s trying to diffuse the situation and just in time judging by the way their mothers’ face is growing redder by the second. Alden is completely unconcerned. With a shrug that displays that, he starts back across the street toward his house.

Once he’s gone, his mom shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Charles. He gets harder and harder to handle. I don’t know what happened to him.”

I do. His dad left. And something in him changed.

“No need to apologize. They warn us about terrible twos, but not the terrible teens. Grab yourself a drink and let’s try to forget we did this to ourselves.” He bats the ends of my hair as he says it, and I swat at him.

“Hey, I’m an angel.”

The living room light comes on at the Stokes’ house and I think of Alden over there all alone. I’d follow him and keep him company but there’s no way either of our parents are going to allow that right now.

It’s almost one a.m. when I finally head up to my room. It was such a crazy day. I’m exhausted from the ups and downs of it. The excitement over being invited to my first dance, the fun of the bonfire party, the fear I felt for Alden when he got caught. I’ve just settled into bed when I see a shadow outside my window.

My heart leaps forward when someone taps on the glass. My curtains keep me from seeing who it is, but before I can panic at the thought of it being a burglar—how stupid, burglars don’t tap at your window—a voice whispers my name.

“Ella, open up,” Alden says again, and I stumble across the dark room to pull back the curtain.

A grin bursts across his face when he sees me. “How did you get up here?” I exclaim, sliding the window up slowly so it won’t squeak.

He pulls himself inside, then shrugs, like the answer is obvious. “Climbed up the trellis.”

I cast a cautious glance toward my bedroom door and hurry to lock it. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.” My parents are easygoing, but a boy in my room after midnight? No parents are that cool.

“Nah, everyone’s in bed.”

“Are you drunk?” I ask. That’s the only explanation for this sudden behavior.

His body shakes with a silent chuckle. “No, I got caught on the second beer. Hours ago.”

“What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

He walks over to me, and I fold my arms across my chest. I’m dressed in a tank top and shorts pajama set and it isn’t like that shows any more skin than what I wear on a summer day, but it feels different. Vulnerable.

“You’re going to the dance with my brother.” It’s not a question or an accusation, only a statement. He steps up closer to me and takes my hand. My heart speeds up.

All I can manage is a nod.

He slips his other hand under my hair and onto the back of my neck. Before I can fully realize what’s happening, he presses his lips to mine. I’m shocked at how soft they are. A feeling I’ve never felt runs through my entire body. Like a sharp stab of something that’s not exactly painful, but intense.

When he pulls back, his expression is so serious. His hand remains on my nape while he looks me in the eye. “I couldn’t let anyone else be your first kiss.”

I’m stunned into silence. He kissed me. It was so fast it barely registered while it was happening. Before he can say anything, I lean forward and kiss him back.

Something becomes clear in my head as his lips move over mine, showing me how it’s done. This is the boy I’ll marry someday. Nothing will ever beat this feeling. Every moment throughout the rest of my life will be measured against this one, standing in my dark bedroom on an early autumn night, falling helplessly for Alden Stokes.

A noise down the hall breaks us apart, and our breathing sounds too loud. When I hear a familiar squeak of door hinges, I whisper, “It’s Garrett. He won’t come down here.”

He nods, but retreats toward the window.

“Wait.” He climbs in here to kiss me then tries to bail without an explanation?

My hands fumble with the hem of my shirt while I gather my courage. “Alden, I like you. If you feel the same way, I won’t go to the dance with Oliver.”

With one leg over the windowsill, he looks back at me. “Go to the dance. Have fun. You deserve it. Bye Ella.”

By the time I get to the window, he’s halfway down the trellis. He drops to the grass and jogs away.

The kiss seems to stay with me while I toss and turn the rest of the night. It hangs on in my head all week, and while the dance I looked forward to so much is fun, it isn’t what it would’ve been if I hadn’t opened my window that night. Oliver is sweet and a perfect date. He even walks me to the door afterward and plants a quick kiss on my lips. Maybe I would’ve felt something when our lips touched.

If his brother hadn’t beat him to it.

CHAPTER 3

Mom used to say that middle school was drama central, even worse than high school. I’m not sure anymore if that’s true. Maybe high school was different when she went. Oliver asked me out after our date to the dance, and I had to tell him I only wanted to be friends. That was three years ago now.

At the time, he was disappointed, but he seemed to get over it, which is why the news passed along the gossip line today probably isn’t true.

“Are you sure?” I ask Tori for the second time.

She holds up her hands. “That’s what Cynthia told me. She said that Oliver—well, she said Spare, but you know—told Caleb that he was going to ask you out.” Caleb is Cynthia’s boyfriend and one of Oliver’s best friends. He’s a bit of a nerd.

Oliver’s friend group is mostly the smart, nerdy kids. The ones you know are going to go on and have successful lives. The unfortunate nickname, Spare, has stuck with Oliver the last two years, since Alden made a joke about keeping his twin around for spare parts.

For brothers who are so close, they couldn’t be more different. At seventeen, both are way above average in the looks department, but Oliver is more studious, serious, and focused on his future. He has plenty of friends and has dated other girls. Despite the cruel nickname, he isn’t unpopular, but he couldn’t care less about his status. I admire that about him.

Meanwhile, Alden is wild. He charges through life with a laugh and a quick smile, as if the world is his giant playground. His friends are older, not even in high school anymore, but he’s popular at school too. All the girls chase after him.

I think Oliver sometimes sees himself as second best to his brother, but that isn’t true. They’re on different paths, that’s all. Oliver and I don’t hang out as much as we used to when we were little kids, but they still live across the street. We say hi and catch up here and there.

Alden is another story. I’m surprised the trellis still stands after all the times he’s scaled it to climb in my window at night. We lie in the darkness and talk until the early hours. Sometimes, we just sleep, cuddled together, careful to wake up in time for him to sneak back out.

The rumor about Oliver’s intentions proves to be true later that evening. I’m sitting in a lawn chair in the backyard, reading, when Oliver walks around the corner with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He’s gotten a haircut. It’s very short but it suits him. The same way Alden’s long locks match his personality.

“Hey,” I say, standing up and dreading the awkward moment that’s now on top of me.

He smiles, walks up and holds out the flowers to me. “These are for you.”

“Oh, thank you. What…why do I get these?” I stumble, taking the bouquet.

“Because you deserve them.” He looks me in the eye. “Because I like you and I’m tired of pretending I don’t. I’ve been crazy about you since seventh grade, Ella. Since we were kids. Will you go out with me? We could go out to dinner, a movie, whatever you’d like.”

Ugh I suck. He’s sweet and kind. But I can’t help that I don’t see him that way.

Oliver’s smile begins to falter as I hesitate and falls away completely when I start to speak. “Oliver, that’s so sweet, and I’m flattered. You’re an amazing guy but I can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t feel that way about you. I like you. You’re my friend, and I hope you always will be.”

“How do you know you couldn’t have feelings for me if you won’t give me a chance to take you out?”

There’s something edging into his voice. Not anger, exactly, but frustration. It reminds me of a child who is about to announce that it isn’t fair.

“I know how I feel. I’m sorry.”

His lips press together like he’s trying not to let his next words escape. “It’s Alden.” Despair leaks into his expression. “I never had a chance against him, did I?”

If this isn’t the time for truth, it never will be. I look into eyes too similar to the ones I dream about. “I’m sorry. No one did. I was ruined by his kiss when I was thirteen years old.”

“I know.” His next words come out in a mumble. “But sometimes hope holds us by the throat.”

“Oliver…” I’m not sure what to say.

His demeanor shifts and he stands up straight. “It’s okay.” He takes a few steps back and I think he’s going to leave, but he pauses to add. “I see him sneak over here at night sometimes.” His gaze lands on mine. “You aren’t the only one, you know. Whatever he tells you, he climbs through plenty of windows.”

His words hit their target, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of showing it. He’s hurt and angry. He wants me to feel like second best because he does. He wants me to feel like the spare. “What he tells me and what we do is none of your business. You should go now, Oliver. While we’re still friends. Before one of us says something that we’ll regret.”

He opens his mouth. Then closes it again. With a nod, he turns and walks away.

I’m sure Oliver thought it was some revelation that Alden sees other girls. Because he saw him sneak into my house, he’s assuming what most people probably would. That Alden and I are having sex.

That’s not the case.

We aren’t having sex or dating. No promises have been made. Alden comes to me because he needs me. Neither of us have ever said it, but I think we’ve both known since he took my hand in the rainy forest. What I don’t think he knows is that I need him too.

He’s the person I can’t wait to share good news with, and the one I want when I’m upset. I can tell him secrets and know they’ll never be repeated. He’s the only person I feel like I can be one hundred percent myself with and never be judged.

Mom does a double take when I walk into the kitchen, carrying the flowers. “Everything okay?”

Shaking my head, I hold out the flowers to her. “Will you do something with these? I don’t want them.”

Her eyebrows jump up. “Do you want to talk?”

“No, I’m fine. Oliver asked me out. I said no. I think he’s mad, but he’ll have to get over it. He wants me to feel things that I don’t.”

Mom nods and takes the flowers. “It’s always best to be honest about your feelings.”

We talk for a while and by the time I go to bed that night, I feel better. I’m sorry I hurt Oliver, but there was no help for it. What keeps haunting me are those words, “He climbs through plenty of windows.” Weeks can go by without a visit from Alden.

What if I’m not the only one he needs?

It’s not weeks this time. It’s only hours before I hear my window inching up and Alden spills through it. “Shh,” I caution. It’s after midnight and while my parents are probably asleep, they aren’t deaf.

“Sorry,” he whispers. The odd nature of his voice makes me reach over and flip on my lamp.

Oh my god. “What happened?” I leap out of bed while he sits on the edge of it.

“I’m fine. Heard you got a visit from Oliver today.”

That’s his concern? Is he kidding me right now? One of his eyes is swollen shut. His top lip is bleeding and bruises bloom on his cheekbones.

“Did you get jumped? Is anything broken?” He winces when I touch his cheek.

“No, it was only a little fight.”

“Den…”

He grins at the nickname I only use for him when we’re alone. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Stay here.” It was more than a little fight. The weariness in his voice and the slump of his shoulders tell me that.

On silent feet, I gather a few supplies from the bathroom, and a bottle of water from the kitchen. Mom and Dad’s bedroom light is out, thank goodness. The house is quiet.

Alden lies back on my bed, his legs hanging over the side, feet planted on the floor. His position raises his shirt an inch or so above his waistband and another bluish purple spot peeks out.

He grins down at me while I raise his shirt up to see the bruises on his ribs. “If you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up. I think you need a doctor.”

He sits up. “No, nothing is broken. Just bruised.”

I sit beside him on the bed and bring a warm wet cloth to his lip to clean off the small amount of blood. It doesn’t look like it needs stitches, at least. “Who did you fight?”

“Some guy from Posey High. I won.” The pride in his voice makes me bite back a smile.

“If this is winning, I’d hate to see him.” He looks at me while I gently wipe his face with the cloth. “Can you see okay? Your eye looks awful.”

“Mmm hmm. My lip hurts worse, to be honest.” The uninjured side of his mouth goes up in a half smile. “Kiss it and make it better?”

“You’re crazy.” I punctuate my accusation with a soft quick kiss on his poor lips. “Now, take these.”

He accepts the two painkillers and a bottle of water, then washes them down.

“What did the guy do to piss you off?” Alden has never had a temper.

“Nothing. It was arranged.”

Arranged? My jaw drops. I’ve heard about a couple of underground fight clubs that take place on the weekends. Tori has been pestering me to go to one of the fights but neither of us is sure where they’re held. “You did this for money?”

“And glory. Don’t forget glory.” He’s joking while I’m growing angry, and he finally notices. “Hey.” He takes my hand. “It was a one time thing I wanted to try. I’m not going to make a habit of fighting. Don’t worry.” He winces when he shifts his weight. I can yell at him for being stupid later.

“Get in bed. I’ll be right back.”

After returning with a soft ice pack for his eye, I lock my bedroom door, then crawl under the covers with him. He’s taken off his jeans, leaving only his boxers and shirt on. If my parents catch us this time, we’re really in trouble. I don’t care.

Instead of lying on his chest like I usually do, he cuddles up to me and rests his head on my breast. He holds the ice pack to his eye.

“How did you know Oliver was here earlier?” I ask, rubbing his back lightly.

“He told me. He wants me to leave you alone.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I’m a loser and I shouldn’t bring you down with me.”

“That prick,” I mumble.

Alden’s body shakes with laughter. “He’s not wrong.”

“Shut up. Yes, he is wrong. Did he happen to mention that he showed up with flowers to ask me out?”

“He conveniently left that part out.”

“I bet. You aren’t a loser. Don’t listen to him.”

“No worries, El. I couldn’t leave you alone if I wanted to.”

“I don’t want you to. I’m worried about you. You don’t hang out with any of us anymore. I don’t know where you go or what you do.”

He sets the ice pack aside and hooks his arm around my middle. “I’m fine. I’m having fun and making money. Making plans.” His body is relaxing, and I know he’s close to sleep.

“Next weekend. I’ll take you with me.”

His mumbled words are followed by a snore, and I doubt he’ll even remember them.

CHAPTER 4

A squeak jumps out of me, and I nearly drop my drink when I enter my bedroom where Alden sits on my bed. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“What? I can only visit when I’m banged up now?” He grins at me. “Your parents are gone?”

“Until tomorrow night.”

“Perfect. Let’s go.”

“What? Go where?”

“Out. You asked me where I go. What I do. Let me show you.”

I want to. Gnawing my lip, I consider it. Who knows what kind of trouble he could get me into? Am I really going to leave with him a week after he showed up beat to a pulp? The shadows of bruises still show on his face.

His lips slowly climb into a smile. “Are you afraid?”

“Of course not.”

“Liar.” He steps up to me and tilts his head to feather a kiss across my lips. “I’d never let anything happen to you, Ella.”

For some reason I remember Oliver standing in front of me, saying he never had a chance against him. I’m the one who never had a chance. From the first time he climbed in my window, I never had a prayer of resisting him. “Okay.”

I slip on my shoes, tuck my house key and money into my pocket, and close my window. I’m not climbing down.

“Shh,” I caution, opening my door. “Garrett’s still up.”

We step into the hall, and I curse under my breath. Garrett stands in front of his bedroom door. Alden takes my hand, and Garrett only stares for a long moment, regarding him.

Alden finally speaks up. “We’re going to the fights.”

Garrett looks back and forth between us. “Nichols and Gillen tonight?”

“They’re the main bout. One more leading up. Newbies.”

Garrett pulls out some cash and hands it over. “Give me fifty on Nichols.”

Alden gives me a sideways glance, then accepts it.

“You holding?” Garrett asks.

Alden shakes his head. “Nah. It’s been a dry week. Might want to try Rex.”

Garrett nods toward me. “Don’t get her into trouble. And if I ever hear about her being at Thirty, we’re going to have a serious fucking problem.” I’ve never heard my brother’s voice so firm.

“Understood. I’ll keep her safe.”

Garrett looks at me. “Stay with him. Don’t take a drink or anything from anyone else.”

Wow, this isn’t the reaction I expected. “Got it. I promise.”

With that warning, he goes into his room. A hundred questions run through my mind over what I just heard while we make our way out of the house.

“What was that about? Why did he give you money to bet? And holding?” I’m not the most street smart person but I’m not stupid. “Are you selling drugs? Are you selling drugs to my brother?”

The humid night air strikes me in the face as he pulls me toward a motorcycle.

“Relax, he was asking if I had any weed.” He tries to hand me a helmet, and I stiffen my back and cross my arms.

“And the money he gave you?”

He shrugs and puts the helmet on my head when I don’t take it. “It’s an easy way to make money. We arrange some fights, charge for people to watch, plus take wagers.”

“That’s illegal as hell. What if you get caught?”

“I won’t. Stop worrying.”

“You hang out at Thirty?” Thirty is an abandoned elementary school a few neighborhoods away. It’s known to be a dangerous spot. People party there but a lot of addicts and homeless stay there too. I’d never dare set foot in the place.

“Of course not.” He fastens the helmet under my chin. “I know you’re a goody two boobs, Ella, but I’m going to need you to let that go for tonight to come and have some fun with me. I won’t let anything bad happen.”

The smile on his face would convince better women than me to toss away their reservations and panties to follow him anywhere.

“I’m not a goody two boobs.” There’s no getting those words out without a giggle.

“Name one thing you’ve done that’s against the rules.”

“I’ve smoked a joint.” It’s true, it was only a couple of puffs, and only once, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He slaps his palms to his cheeks in fake horror. “No! Not sweet little Ella. Who corrupted you?”

A laugh spills out of me. “Shut up. Whose bike is this?”

“A friend’s. He’ll be meeting us at the fight to take it.”

He swings his leg over and gets on, motioning for me to join him. “How will we get home then?”

“It isn’t far.”

It’s not an answer to my question, but I don’t care. He’s right. My whole life is work and school. It’s time to let loose and have some fun.

“Scoot up close and hold onto me,” he says, and the bike roars to life.

It’s my first time on a motorcycle. Maybe I should be nervous, but when he takes off and I hold on tightly to him, laughter pours out of me. This is fun.

It’s a short ride to the old bottling plant that closed down years ago. We used to ride our bikes here as kids and dare each other to go inside. A small crowd of people mill around the crumbling parking lot, and Alden pulls the bike up near a trio of men I don’t recognize. They’re bikers, judging by their vests. The two women with them both give me a disdainful look when I pull my helmet off. I’m not sure what their problem is. They’re both way older than me, early thirties probably, like the men.

“Watch your leg. Don’t burn it on the exhaust pipe,” Alden warns, helping me off the bike. “Wait here for a second.”

He doesn’t have to tell me again. The daggers coming from the eyes of those women would keep me away even if the bikers weren’t big and scary. Which they are. How does he even know these guys?

More people are showing up, on foot and by car. While Alden talks with the three bikers, I watch a group of women open one of the doors and disappear inside the factory.

When my attention returns to Alden, one of the bikers hands him some money, and they laugh. Then he starts back toward me.

“Ready?”

“Was he making a bet too?”

“Nope. Just owed me some money.”

He’s full of shit. “He owed you some money and loaned you his bike. The bike with no plates on it.”

Alden chuckles, shaking his head. “He owed me the money for the bike. I built it.”

My eyebrows jump up. “You built a motorcycle?”

“You impressed?” he teases, taking my hand.

“Yes, actually. You could be a mechanic.”

“I’m shooting higher than that. I’m going to build custom bikes. Start my own business and rake in the money.” He pauses by the door of the factory. “Okay, listen up before we go in. Stay right with me. It’s a maze in there and easy to get lost in the dark.”

“Got it.”

My hand tightens on his, and we step inside. He isn’t kidding. Glow sticks and makeshift lights line the halls but don’t push back the dark completely. There’s a damp, musty smell and broken glass crunches under our feet.

A murmur of voices grows louder while we wind our way through the old hallways, then push through thick hanging strips of plastic to enter a large open room.

Wow.

There are easily over a hundred people here and more streaming inside. They surround an area that’s been roped off for the fighters. As we make our way through the crowd, Alden gets stopped constantly. Mostly by people who want to place a bet, but also by women who bat their eyelashes and hit on him while practically sneering at me.

I shouldn’t be surprised. He may be young, but Alden is always the best looking guy wherever he goes. Watching women so much older than him giggle and grab him to talk into his ear sends a spike through my stomach. How could I ever compete? They must be experienced.

Maybe Alden notices my reaction, because he slings his arm around me and pulls me close. “Ignore the chicks. They’re fighter groupies.”

We arrive at the edge of the ropes as a man steps out and starts to introduce the first two fighters. “What are the rules?” I ask, talking right into Alden’s ear. It’s the only way to be heard over the crowd. “Is it boxing?”

Alden shakes his head. “Street fighting. No biting or eye gouging. No going for the crotch. That's it. Loser taps out or doesn’t get back up in fifteen seconds.” He points to two guys standing on the opposite side. “Each fighter has a backup that can forfeit on their behalf if they think it’s too much.”

I’m no stranger to violence. I’ve seen plenty of neighborhood and school fights. But this is different. The first bout is between high school boys.

It doesn’t last long. One is much bigger than the other and he gets the smaller one down quickly. A few punches and a broken nose later, it’s over. The loser is consoled by his friends while the winner soaks in the accolades from the crowd.

One of the bikers he was talking to before walks up and slaps Alden on the shoulder. “Told you they shouldn’t let you fetuses fight. Didn’t last two minutes.”

“Fuck off, old man. Mine was four minutes.”

They both laugh and Alden nods at me. “This is my girl, Ella.”

His girl. My heart rate doubles.

“Ella, this is Ronin.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Back at you, sweetheart.” He turns to Alden. “Come by tomorrow evening.”

Alden’s nod is instant. “I’ll be there.”

A cheer goes up from the crowd. There’s no time for me to ask any questions before the main fight begins. The first was child’s play compared to this. The men are older, probably mid to late twenties. They lay into each other and blood flies. It’s brutal and makes my stomach turn, but it’s also exciting.

Aiden beams at me when I join in cheering for the guy who appears to be losing. “You like the underdog?”

“I don’t know either of them, but it looks like he needs the support.”

He sure does. Too bad it doesn’t help. Less than a minute later, he gets knocked out cold. The crowd goes wild, and we’re jostled around. Alden leans over to Ronin. “Keep Ella safe for a quick minute, would you?”

“I got her,” Ronin replies.

“I’ll be right back. Like five minutes tops. Stay right here with him in case things get too wild, okay?”

I’m not thrilled with the idea, but Alden is off before I can answer. He joins a group of guys on the other side of the factory floor. I watch while they talk, and money changes hands again. All night I’ve watched people hand him money.

Alden has always been the boy I can’t resist, the one who never completely leaves my mind. How many years have I daydreamed about him, putting him into many childish reveries. Stuck on a deserted island, running away to live in New York, becoming a famous photographer and travelling the world. He’s always there. Now that my fantasies have taken a sexual turn, he’s still the one I picture.

His hands on me. His lips on me. The first time I made myself come it was from picturing him going down on me. Maybe that’s the reason none of the other boys at school seem to interest me for long. They aren’t him.

Now I’m seeing a different him. He’s grown more wild ever since the day his father left. That’s not new, but I never considered how cutting school and sneaking an occasional drink might lead to more.

Fighting. Selling drugs. Not only gambling, but also helping to organize and run an underground fight club. Something about the whole motorcycle thing seems fishy to me too and I wonder if he really built it or stole it. This isn’t petty stuff and the people he’s working with all seem to be much older than him.

He could get into real trouble.

Legal trouble.

It’s scary, but does it change how I feel about him?

He looks up from his conversation and catches my eye from across the room. The smile I see in my dreams flashes across his face.

No, it doesn’t change how I feel. If anything, his disregard for danger adds to the appeal. Add it to the list of things I love about him. Funny, sweet, compassionate, brave.

He returns to me and takes my hand. “Let’s go.”

We burst out into the night air that seems to have gained weight. “Where are we going?” I ask, when he starts to lead me in the opposite direction of our neighborhood.

“Astor Bridge. Sawyer is throwing a kegger tonight to celebrate his graduation.”

Tori and I both crushed on Sawyer when we were twelve but she’s the one who ended up dating him. At least until a couple of weeks ago. “Did you know he broke up with Tori?” I ask as we cut across a row of backyards to get to the railroad tracks that lead to the bridge and Poke Creek.

“No, I haven’t seen him. But it makes sense. I heard he’s going to college out of state.”

“He is. He wants to be a federal agent.”

Alden laughs, throwing his head back. “Of course he does. He’s the type.”

“The type?”

“To want to be a cop. He’s arrogant. Desperate to have people look up to him and jump when he speaks. I’m sure the thought of wearing a uniform and having authority gets him hard.”

My jaw drops at his description, but he’s not wrong. That’s Sawyer to a tee. I’ve just never heard anyone lay it out like that. He grins down at me when I laugh. “I told Tori she could do better.”

Alden is a year ahead of me and it occurs to me that he might choose to go to college out of state too. Weeks go by sometimes without him climbing through my window, but I know he’ll be back. And that I’ll see him in school, even if he’s with his friends and all I get is a smile or wink. The thought of not having that to look forward to is awful.

“Do you think you’ll go to an out of state college?”

The dark gravel between the railroad ties crunches under our feet while he takes his time answering. “I’m not going to college. I’m learning all I need to know now.”

“By being a bookie and selling drugs?”

“No, judgy. Ronin owns a bike shop. I told you I’m going to build and sell custom bikes. His mechanics are teaching me everything.”

“That does sound pretty awesome.”

He beams at me. “You think I can do it?”

“Of course, I do. You’ve always been able to fix stuff. You must’ve fixed every bicycle and lawnmower in our neighborhood at some point. I heard my dad tell your mom you should go into engineering.”

“Years of school that’ll cost a fortune? No way. I have my own plans. I’m going to learn as much as I can from Ronin’s guys, save all my money, and do what I love, working on stuff.” He squeezes my hand. “What do you want to be? I’m assuming you’ve given up on your dream of driving an ice cream truck.”

His grin is teasing, and I elbow him. “Shut up. I was eleven and it sounded like a fun job. All the ice cream you could eat.”

“So, you’re sticking with that. That’s cool. Do I get a discount?”

“I’m not driving an ice cream truck, idiot.” My real dream is a new one that I haven’t mentioned to anyone yet. “I want to be a photographer. I bought a camera from the pawn shop and I’ve been learning to use it. I’ve signed up for photography next year for my art credit.”

“I’m not surprised. You always had one of those disposable cameras in your hand when we were little. What kind of pictures do you like to take?”

“People mostly. I mean, I like taking pictures of everything, but people are the most fun.” There’s more to it than that but I don’t understand it enough myself to explain. The way the camera captures things in people that we don’t look closely enough to see every day. The way it seals a moment forever. “Maybe I’ll travel and photograph models or something. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“You will. That’s a great plan.”

There’s not an ounce of amusement in his voice or any sign that he’s just humoring me. “You think so?”

“Absolutely.” A light sheen of sweat on his forehead shines in the moonlight when I glance up at him. “If you need a model, I’m totally willing to do nudes. Just keep them tasteful.”

“I’ve already seen pictures of you on the potty as a toddler. Not sure I could top that.”

He drops my hand to step over to one of the rails. “Look.”

A row of thin metal discs lie scattered a few inches apart. “I haven’t done that in years,” I laugh.

“You used to worry it’d derail the trains.”

“That’s because you told me it would.” I can remember the fear I felt that cold winter afternoon when he and Oliver spread coins over the train tracks. They had me convinced it would throw the train off the tracks. They laughed at me for the longest time before showing me the flattened coins after the train had passed.

Alden scoops them up and holds one in front of my face. “Kiss it so it’ll give me good luck.”

He’s so silly. I acquiesce, and he grins, sticking it in his pocket. He kisses the other one, then hands it to me. “Here. You keep one and I’ll keep the other. To commemorate this monumental night when you stopped being a goody two boobs and snuck out to party.”

“I’ll treasure it always.” Laughing, I tuck it into my pocket.

We both look up when a group of people step onto the tracks up ahead of us. They’re walking in the same direction—probably heading to the party too.

We’re almost there. Once the music and voices start being audible, I lick my lips. I need to have the guts to ask a question. “Den? Back at the fight, you told Ronin I was your girl. Did you mean it? I mean…do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

There’s a whooshing sound in my ears while I hold my breath. I’m sixteen and never had a serious boyfriend. I’ve never wanted anyone but Alden.

“I…” He glances sideways at me, then back to the ground while we walk. “It’s not a great crowd that hangs out there sometimes, and I wanted to make sure you were safe. That no one would mess with you.”

Disappointment is a physical weight on my chest. We’ve reached the bridge over Poke Creek, and I drop his hand.

“Ella…”

“It’s fine. I just wanted to know where we stand. I get it. We’re friends.” The words don’t even sound convincing to me. How could I understand? He’s confusing as hell. He comes to me when he’s hurt, he kisses me, cuddles me in my bed, calls me his girl. But as soon as I step in that direction, he balks. Before he can say anything else, I cut in front of him and climb down the slope alongside the bridge.

The party comes into full view at the bottom. A keg sits in a tub of ice, and people are gathered in groups along the bank to the left and right of the bridge. Poke Creek isn’t quite large enough to be considered a river, but it’s not tiny. It’s around ten feet deep in the center and can move fast sometimes. It empties into a reservoir a few miles downstream.

During the daylight, it’s common to see swimmers jump off the bridge. I’ve done it myself. At night, it isn’t smart since you can’t see debris that might be rushing toward you, especially when the current is strong. There’s an area farther down, past the bend, that’s used as a swimming hole.

I’m happy to see some familiar faces. I’m not going to let Alden’s hot and cold behavior keep me from having a good time now that I’m here. Kira calls out my name and waves for me to join her and the two girls with her. Holly and Breanna.

We aren’t close but often eat lunch together at school, and Breanna was my lab partner in Biology last year. Without glancing back to see where Alden goes, I make a beeline for them.

“Hey!” Kira exclaims. “I didn’t know you were coming. Is Garrett with you?”

Kira has had a thing for my brother since we were freshmen, and he was a senior.

“No, he’s not here.”

Breanna grins at me. “He’s home from college, isn’t he?”

“For the summer, yeah.”

We talk and hang out for a few minutes while I do my level best not to look around for Alden. Maybe I’m being petty but the hurt is in control right now.

“You’ve been here way too long without a beer,” a voice says from behind me. I turn to see Leo holding out a cup of beer. “Might want to swipe off some of the foam,” he advises. Leo is my age and new to town. He only started at our school about six weeks before summer break. He’s cute, with curly hair and dimples.

“Thank you, but I’ll get one later.” My answer is interrupted when Alden steps in between us.

“I’ve got her, Leo, but good looking out.” Alden barely spares him a glance while he holds out a beer to me.

All eyes are on us. Damn it. He’s staring at me like he’s prepared to make a scene and for a split second I consider taking the drink from Leo. Just to show him he can’t tell me what to do. But that’s stupid. Even Garrett warned me.

“Thanks.” The word doesn’t exactly sound sincere, but I accept the cup.

Leo doesn’t take it personally. They start talking about the fight and who might be competing next time while Kira pulls me away. Breanna and Holly follow and once we’re out of earshot, Kira exclaims, “You’re here with Alden?”

“We walked over together.”

My noncommittal answer isn’t going to appease them. “Are you here with him, though? A date?” Holly asks. She keeps her tone light, but I can hear the plea in it for the answer to be no. Kira might have a thing for Garrett, but Holly is all about Alden. Who has never given her a second look as far as I know.

“No, just friends. He’s my neighbor.” I drain the cup of beer. “Come with me to grab another?”

“Sure.”

Two beers later, I’m feeling much better. Not drunk, but on that perfect edge of buzzed where you haven’t lost control, but you don’t care about much of anything. Because fuck Alden Stokes and his bullshit.

Look at all these guys. Plenty of them have hit on me tonight. So what if I’ve seen girls drool over Alden all night. He isn’t the only one with options.

Proof of that point is walking over to me now.

“Hey. Kira, Breanna, Kyle, and Bobby are headed down to the bend to get high. Do you smoke?” Leo asks.

Tonight? Why, yes the fuck I do. “Sure.” His smile grows even larger when I take his hand. “Let’s go.”

It isn’t far. We’re in shouting distance of the others, but far enough away to dull the noise. Kira sits in Kyle’s lap, and Bobby has his arm around Breanna. We sit beside them on the grassy bank.

Leo lights a joint, hits it and hands it to me. He grins at me when I cough on my first hit but my second is better. Once the joint is gone, Alden shows up with a guy I don’t recognize and they sit farther back behind us. The glow of a lighter makes it clear they came for the same reason.

Kira looks back and laughs. She was pretty lit before the joint. “Hey! Quit spying! It’s creepy!” she calls.

“Nobody is spying on your drunk ass!” Alden calls back. He and the guy beside him laugh and pass the joint between them.

“I’m not drunk!” Kira insists, sounding offended.

“No?” Alden replies.

“Nope!”

After about a minute of silence, Alden speaks up again. “Hey Kira, look how many stars there are tonight.”

Kira leans back on her hands and looks up. Instant regret fills her face and she cries out. “Whoa.”

The guys with us can’t help cracking up along with Alden and his friend.

“Never look up at the sky when you’re drunk. It’ll make you dizzy,” Leo tells her.

“Ugh, I’m hot. Let’s go swimming,” she says, standing up and pulling Kyle to his feet.

Breanna leaps up to join them. “Ooh! Yes! Let’s skinny dip!”

Alden walks up and sits down on my other side. His friend must’ve left.

“Seriously?” Bobby asks. “Are we all getting naked?”

“I’m not getting naked,” Kira insists. “Underwear and bra.”

“Fuck that,” Breanna says, whipping off her top. “I didn’t wear a bra.” She walks out to the edge of the water, and steps out of her underwear, keeping her back to everyone. Once she’s up to her chest in the creek, she turns and calls to us. “Well, are you all scared? The water feels great.”

Kira strips to underwear and bra, then follows her in. Kyle and Bobby give no fucks. They both strip nude and charge into the water. Leo laughs and goes in after them but keeps his underwear on.

“Are you ready to go home?” Alden asks once everyone is out of earshot.

His expression is infuriating. He doesn’t think I’ll do it. Maybe he thinks he can stop me. Well, I’m not his girl. I’m free to do whatever I want.

“Nope, but you don’t need to wait on me. I know my way back.”

His gaze meets mine and it feels like a whole conversation takes place in the silence. It’s his don’t you dare versus my just watch me.

“Come on, Ella!” Breanna shouts.

She cheers when I whip off my shirt and toss it aside. Without looking at Alden, I pull off my shorts and step into the water. “I can’t believe you took your underwear off!” I call to Breanna. “What if a fish tries to swim up there?”

They all crack up. The water is cool and feels so good. I stop when the water reaches my breasts and dip underwater to wet my hair. My bra becomes completely pointless once it’s wet. It’s hilarious to watch the guys pretend they aren’t all looking at our breasts while we splash around and swim.

When I look back toward the shore, Alden reclines on the bank, watching us. Whatever. He promised Garrett to keep an eye on me. That’s the only reason he even gives a shit.

I’ll admit, the urge to grab Leo and kiss him just to test that theory is tempting, but even buzzed and high, I know it’d be wrong. Leo has been nothing but nice and respectful to me. Pretending to be into him only to piss off Alden would be cruel.

A rumble of thunder makes me look up and realize clouds have overtaken the stars. Alden is waving at us. “Lightning, you dumbasses!” he calls. “Get out!”

“You ain’t the boss of us!” Kira yells.

Laughing, I let my self float on my back in the chest deep water and watch the dark clouds roll and shift overhead.

“Ella, damn it!” Alden shouts when it thunders again.

I let my ears go under the water, muting his voice and the other’s laughter. It feels like I’ve stepped outside of everything. The cool water, the mesmerizing sky, the world at a muffled distance.

A blinding streak cuts through my quietude. That was a little too close. My feet have scarcely touched the bottom of the creek when arms lock around my thighs. Laughter rings out around me as I’m thrown over Alden’s shoulder.

I grasp at the back of his shirt that’s wet halfway up his back. “Put me down!” Ignoring me, he slaps my ass and not lightly. “Ow! That stung!” Especially since all that’s protecting my ass is a pair of wet panties.

“That’s what you get for making me come in after you.”

“I was getting out.” His response is another slap on my ass as he wades out.

Laughter rings out from the others, and they follow us to shore. The wind picks up, sending a chill through me when he sets me on my feet. A giggle spills out of me when I see he didn’t even take off his shoes. They squelch when he takes a step, and rivulets run off his jeans into the grass.

He does his best to sound annoyed. “You think that’s funny?”

“I’m pretty amused by it, yeah.”

He shakes his head, fighting back a smile. “Get dressed so we can head back.”

“I remember when you said you’d never tell me what to do. How far we’ve fallen,” I say with an exaggerated sigh.

Alden turns his back to let me dress as if he hasn’t already seen right through my bra and had his hand on my wet ass. The others aren’t paying any attention while they’re focused on getting dressed behind me.

Alden’s eyebrows climb his forehead when I walk around to stand in front of him. I unsnap my bra, take it off and wring the water from it. When I look at him, his attention is locked on my breasts. He’s never seen me topless. I’m about to show him something else that he’s never seen. To be honest, no one has.

My heart thrums in my chest but I don’t let myself look away from his eyes once they land on mine. I slowly pull my underwear down, then off, and wring the water from them as nonchalantly as possible.

The heat from his stare seems to reach my skin when he slowly drops his gaze. His tongue peeks out, wetting his lips, and I see his chest rise with a deep breath.

I’m doing my best to act like this is no big deal. Like I’m completely comfortable with showing my body to him. My shorts are too thin to go without underwear, so I put them back on, then slide my shorts over them.

I’m not the only one breathing harder. Alden keeps watching while I put my bra and shirt back on. “Ready to go?” I ask, my voice light.

“Jesus fuck, Ella, you’re killing me,” he breathes.

I don’t bother to respond. Even while we make our way back to the bridge and onto the tracks, I keep quiet. I’m not sure what to say. I’m still buzzed and a little high. It makes my thoughts wander all over the place.

The storm misses us, but heavy rain is right behind it. We’ve barely gotten a few steps down the tracks when the sky opens up. We’re both drenched to the skin in minutes.

Alden laughs and breaks the silence. “You could’ve gone swimming in your clothes too.”

“What fun would that have been?”

Alden reaches for my hand, but I don’t take it. “There’s no one around you need to protect me from.”

With a sigh, he stops and grabs my wrist. We stand in the center of the tracks in the pouring rain while he looks me in the eye. “Ella. I didn’t mean it like that.” He swipes a wet lock of hair off my forehead. “You’re my girl. You always have been. There’s no one I care about the way I do you. But I can’t have a girlfriend. Not now. I need to get my shit together first. I’m trying. I’m working hard, El. To get to a place where I’m worthy of you. Be patient. Please.”

His words stun me. Other than his little jokes about marrying me, he’s never mentioned us being together. Vulnerability shines in his eyes. I slide my hand around his nape and kiss his wet lips. Neither of us speaks for a long moment while I look at him. He’s so gorgeous. Tiny drops cling to his long eyelashes and his hair hangs over his forehead. “You’re worthy right now, Den. I’m proud to be your girl. But I understand.”

Maybe I don’t, completely, but he’s being honest. He’s telling me what he needs. Time. Independence is a good thing, an important thing, and I think that’s what he’s working on. Being his own man and not having to answer to anyone else. He’s a year away from adulthood and doesn’t have the support system I do. He’s scared. I would be too. Everything is going to change.

His smile is everything. “It was good to see you could misbehave. I had fun watching you tonight.”

“Ha! I’ll bet.”

Chuckling, he grabs my hand, and I don’t resist this time. We continue down the tracks. “Not only when you got naked. It was nice to see you let loose and have a good time. Full disclosure, though. You standing in front of me wet and naked is permanently entered into my spank bank.”

“That’s fair since I think about you when I touch myself.”

The groan he lets out makes me laugh. There’s no wiping the smile from my face. It really was a fun night, so different than what I’m used to. I watched a fight, went to a party, drank, smoked, and ended up nearly naked in Poke Creek. Now I’m walking home in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.

It’s a feeling that’s difficult to describe and I know will be hard to replicate. Something like joy mixed with freedom and youth. It’s a night I’ll never forget.

It’s almost dawn and the rain has stopped when we get to my house. “Do you want to stay?” I ask.

He nods and follows me inside. I grab a pair of Garrett’s old shorts for him to wear. Once we’re both dried and changed, we crawl into my bed. He cuddles me close but doesn’t let things get sexual.

It’s okay. I can be patient.

CHAPTER 5

A tap at my window jars me from sleep but it no longer alarms me. I can’t count how many times Alden has climbed in my window since that first time over five years ago. We talk and sometimes we kiss. On the nights when one of us is upset, we hold each other in my small bed until he sneaks out at the first sign of dawn.

It’s been almost two years since Alden asked me to be patient. Long enough for me to have let go of any hope of being with him. I’ll be going to college soon and it’ll put an end to us. He won’t be living across the street and sneaking in my window. The distance will be good for me. I need to get him out of my head and move on. It hurts more than I’d like to admit, but it’s probably for the best.

I’m not sure Alden will ever settle with anyone. It’s a miracle he hasn’t been arrested in the years of partying, drugs, and drinking—not to mention the fights he still arranges. More than once, Dad has gone out with his mom to hunt him down and bring him home. There seems to be no taming him. He managed to graduate by the skin of his teeth but hasn’t done much since as far as I can tell, except party and make money working on motorcycles.

It’s late, but I’m surprised I fell asleep waiting for him despite my excitement. I knew he’d come tonight, and there’s something I want from him. One last thing before I move on.

“Happy Birthday, El,” he says, pulling me in for a kiss as soon as his feet hit my floor. “Get dressed, I want to show you something.”

“What? It’s late.” And I planned for something very different tonight. Going to college as a virgin is not happening, and he’s the one I want to be the first.

“And you’re eighteen, not eighty. Come on. It’s important.” Call me weak, but I’ve never been able to resist him. With a sigh, I quickly change from my sleep shorts to a pair of jeans and a tank top. No bra. I’m on a mission tonight.

“Shh,” I caution, as we creep down the hall. I may have turned eighteen today, but I still don’t want to explain to my parents what he’s doing here in the middle of the night.

His motorcycle is parked a few houses down, and I beam at him when I throw my leg over it. There’s nothing I want to do more on my birthday than wrap my arms around Alden and feel the warm air rush over me. He plunks a helmet onto my head. “You look sexy wearing my helmet.”

“Don’t be mad that I pull it off better than you.”

He chuckles, tugs me forward and drops a kiss on my lips. “Hold on, babe.” The bike roars to life, and I wrap my arms around him tight. We aren’t on the road long before he pulls into the parking lot of Freddy’s Garage.

“What are we doing at Freddy’s?” I ask, as he walks me to the door.

“It’s not Freddy’s anymore,” he replies, pulling out a set of keys. “It’s mine. Well, half mine.”

He unlocks the service entrance and flicks on the lights before leading me inside. “What do you mean?”

A rich dark smell fills my senses. Motor oil, grease, old smoke, a hint of paint. The overhead lighting is bright and harsh against the night. Four bays stand empty while a motorcycle waits in the fifth.

His expression drips with pride when he looks around at the walls lined with toolboxes. “Freddy is retiring. His brother, Lewis, isn’t ready to go yet and he offered to let me buy Freddy’s stake in the place. I’m a partner. I own fifty percent of the business. In a few years, when Lewis is ready to retire, I’ll buy the other half. Then it’ll be Stokes Brothers Custom Bikes. How does that sound?”

Shocking, if I’m being honest, but I don’t want to dampen his joy. “It sounds…amazing, but how? I mean, that must’ve cost so much.”

My doubts bounce off him with no effect. “I’ve been saving.” He steps toward me. “What did you think I was doing with the money I made? I wasn’t taking those risks just for fun.”

“The drugs,” I breathe. “You said you weren’t dealing anymore.”

“I’m not. That’s all behind me. And it wasn’t only from dealing. The underground fights, you wouldn’t believe how much some guys would wager. Plus, you know I’ve been working on bikes. It all added up. And now it’s paid off.” He sweeps his hand around. “This is all legal. I signed the paperwork today.”

He stares at me for the longest time while my thoughts climb over one another. I’ve always worried for him. I didn’t know exactly what he was doing but I knew he wasn’t afraid to break the law.

“You’re done with all that? No more illegal shit? This isn’t going to be some chop shop?”

His laughter bounces off the walls. “No, I’m going to build and repair custom motorcycles. Once Oliver gets his degree, he’s going to handle the business side of things.” His eyes travel over the mostly empty space. “I’ll start with a couple of custom orders and in a few years, all these bays will be full. I’ll have guys working under me. Good, creative guys. I’m going to do this shit.” He reaches to run his hand under my jaw. “Believe me, El. Be happy for me.”

It sounds like a plea, and my heart softens under his gaze. “I do believe you.” His arms wrap around me when I grab him in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you.” This is his dream, it rings out in his voice when he talks about it, one he first mentioned to me years ago. He’s going to make it real. “I’m proud of you, Alden. This is amazing.”

His lips land on mine. We’ve made out loads of times, but there’s so much behind the way he’s kissing me now. So many emotions it feels like he’s trying to communicate with lips and tongue. My breath is heated, and my entire body is on fire when he pulls back.

“You were the first person I wanted to tell.”

“I’m glad.” My voice shakes the tiniest bit as I look into those dark eyes. “Will you be my first person too?”

He blinks at me, his brow dipping slightly. “What are you asking me?”

God, this is awkward, but he’s the one I want. Seeing him tonight only solidified that. Standing here now, he looks ridiculously sexy. Some switch has flipped inside of me and everything about him seems to shine in a new way. The way his eyes burn into mine throws bursts of sensation through my body. The scent of him, the stubble on his jaw, the way his shirt hugs his shoulders. Fascinating. And hot as hell.

“Be my first. Fuck me, Alden. I don’t want it to be anyone else.”

If he turns me down, I’m not sure I’ll ever recover. For so long, I’ve taken the bits of him I could get. And I’m not too young to realize no woman may ever get all of him. That’s just how some men are. He’s the only one I want this moment with. If I let anyone else be first, I’d only be picturing him.

When I can’t stand the tension anymore and drop my head, he quickly lifts my chin until we’re eye to eye again. “Anyone else was never an option. I held your hand first. I kissed you first. Did you really think I’d let someone else fuck you first?”

My heart tries to beat its way up my throat. “Tonight. Now, please,” I utter, and a wicked smile bursts across his face.

“Christ, Ella, that’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” He slams his lips to mine and the tiny rough moan that rumbles his throat has me instantly wet. After kissing me until my head is spinning, he turns me around and pulls my back to his chest. A soft, sucking kiss lands on the side of my neck, and I tilt my head automatically. God, his mouth. It’s always gotten me worked up quickly. Tonight, it won’t stop at kissing my neck.

His arms encircle me, and he slides his hands up my tank top. His lips and tongue continue turning me to mush while his fingers catch my nipple, sending streaks of pleasure through me that draw a gasp from my throat.

His other hand slowly travels down my chest to my stomach. He unfastens my jeans and slips his hand beneath the waistband of my panties. Oh wow, this is happening. He’s crossed the line he’s stopped at so many times before.

One finger brushes over my clit. My breath comes out in a stutter, and I reach up to grab onto his neck, my other hand landing on the side of his thigh, steadying myself.

“Has anyone touched you like this? Or were you waiting for my fingers inside you?”

All I can focus on is the feel of his fingertip gently circling. My answer is honest. “Yours. I was waiting for yours.”

He nips at my ear before letting his lips brush it while he replies, “You’re going to get a lot more than my fingers, Ella.” He withdraws his hand and before I can protest, I’m lifted off my feet. He carries me swiftly to a door at the rear of the garage and flings it open to reveal an office. Despite being a hundred percent on board with the idea of being bent over a desk or pinned against a wall, I’m glad to see a large couch. As much as I want this, I’m still nervous. It’s going to hurt.

He starts kissing me again once he places me on my feet and all fear fades to the background. We undress each other, our hands exploring all the while, until I’m completely naked. Before he can take off his boxer briefs, I reach to brush my palm over the bulge. It’s already large and growing rapidly.

He drops his underwear. My god, that’s supposed to go inside of me?

When I manage to drag my gaze back to his face, amusement shows in the twitch of his lips, but his voice is soft. “Are you afraid?”

“A little.”

His hand trails down my side. “Trust me, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.” He watches me reach out, and his eyes close briefly when I run my fingers over his cock. The softness of the skin is surprising. Soft and hard. Like him.

The tiny jerk of his body when I wrap my hand around it is almost as satisfying as the long breath he blows out. He only lets me get a few strokes before he backs me up to the couch and commands, “Lie down.”

Once I obey, he kneels between my legs. My face heats up when he grabs my ankle and hooks my leg over the back of the couch. I’ve never been so exposed. Instinctively, I try to bring my other leg closer, but he catches it, and the wicked grin returns to his face. “I’ve wanted to taste you for too fucking long. Now lie back so I can make you come.”

His words barely register before his face is between my legs. Any embarrassment is forgotten. Nothing I’ve ever read or seen about this prepared me for the overwhelming sensation of his warm tongue licking my clit. When he slides a finger inside me, slowly working it in and out, I cry out, my hips lifting off the couch.

I can feel it building, and I’m getting close when he adds a second finger. The slight pinch of being stretched makes me tense up for a second, but he doesn’t falter. Instead, he plants his lips around my clit and begins to softly suck.

His name explodes from my mouth. I claw at the cushions, holding on like I might fall off the edge of the universe while my body pulses for what feels like forever.

He kisses my thigh then sits up.

My body and mind are still buzzing from my first non self-induced orgasm, but nerves start to rattle when he grabs the condom and rolls it on.

He drapes his body over mine and his weight is comforting. I’m safe with him. Always have been. His kisses and caresses calm my nerves and light a fire inside me again.

“Are you sure, Ella?” he asks, his tip resting at my entrance.

“Yes.” My whisper of consent is all the convincing he requires. My hands jump to his back, holding on for dear life when he slowly begins pushing inside me.

Oh. That feels like way more than two fingers. My wetness grows while he works his cock in and out, letting me adjust to each additional inch.

He pauses and intense eyes stare into mine. “Are you okay?”

My nod is frantic, but a giggle escapes. “You’re big.”

His smile is equal parts amusement and cocky satisfaction. “Why, thank you.”

“Not really a compliment at this moment,” I reply, wincing when he moves again.

His chuckle against my lips makes me smile. This isn’t what I was expecting it to feel like. Physically or emotionally. Sex had become such a big thing in my head. I thought it would be a painful, embarrassing, scary experience. I expected it to feel serious. And it does, but it’s still us, joking and laughing.

It’s sweet.

Sweat forms on his forehead and his struggle to hold back begins to show. “You feel so fucking good. Look at me, Ella.” He keeps his gaze locked on mine and buries himself fully in one firm stroke.

Oh fuck. He wasn’t even halfway in before.

A cry leaps out of me and my hands dig into his sides. For a second, I’m sure I can’t do this. It hurts.

His body remains still while he drops soft, reassuring kisses on my lips. “You’re okay. Try to relax, baby.”

I force my muscles to unclench, and he keeps kissing me as he starts moving again. With every stroke, the pain fades and soon, my hips move to meet his.

“Fuck yes, Ella. Does that feel good?”

My groan is my answer when he swirls his hips.

It’s better than good. Despite the slight burn that still accompanies our movements, it feels amazing. Everything about this moment is amazing. The expression on his face when he looks at me, the way he closes his eyes, his mouth dropping open. The vulnerability of feeling so much under his naked body and watching him draw the same pleasure from me.

I’ve never felt so alive. So real. The whole world could go to hell as long as I can stay here in a moment that belongs only to us.

Soreness grows, extinguishing any chance of another orgasm but I don’t care. I can’t take my eyes off him. His last few thrusts are harder, and I dig my hands into his ass, pulling him in. A deep groan rumbles against my neck when he comes, and he lies on top of me, recovering while I run my fingers over his damp back.

Finally, he props himself up and gazes down at me. Silence reigns. After a few seconds, he kisses me and the tenderness of it is indescribable. “Are you alright?” he asks.

How to answer? I’ll never be the same. Nothing could ever live up to that.

To him.

“I’m okay. That was…” Intense, emotional. A culmination of years that I’ve dreamed of him. That I’ve loved him. He doesn’t know how I feel, and I’m reluctant to tell him. It’ll only make things harder. “Fun,” I finally add, and he chuckles.

We get dressed and despite my best effort, tears fill my eyes. I try to blink them away but they won’t be denied.

“Hey,” he says softly, and pulls me into his arms. “What’s wrong? Do you regret it?”

“No. Not at all. I just…I’m going to miss you. I’m leaving on Sunday.”

He blinks and stares down at me. “What do you mean?”

“You know I’m going to college in Florida.”

“Right. In September. We have all summer and—”

“No. My parents found a house for me and Tori. A rental. They signed the lease, and we can move in anytime, so we’re going to spend the summer there. It’ll give us time to settle in, find a job. We might be back for Thanksgiving. If not, then it may be more than a year since my parents plan to visit for Christmas.”

“You’re leaving in two days?” he says.

All I can manage is a nod. “Will you miss me?”

I’m yanked into his arms and hugged tighter than I’ve ever been. He holds me for a long time, silently. His hand cups the back of my head, his thumb stroking my hair. “I’m going to take that as a yes,” I choke out.

“I’m sorry. I’m doing my best not to ask you to stay. To be happy you’re getting what you want, too.”

He steps back and my heart breaks at the tears standing in his eyes. There have been so many times I thought that what I feel is one sided. Because despite his request for me to be patient, nothing ever changed.

We loved each other in the dark. In the light of day, we went about our separate lives.

There have been times I felt resentful. Like he was stringing me along, but it isn’t true. He had plans and I didn’t fit into them. The same way he doesn’t fit into mine now. We have so much history, but we’re both barely adults.

I can’t bear to leave without telling him. I bring my palm to his cheek and look him in the eye. “I love you, you know. I have since I was thirteen. I’m sorry it has to end but I wanted you to know that.”

He lays his hand over mine, still resting on his face. “This isn’t the end, Ella.”

Sighing, I shake my head. “I’m not making any promises, and I don’t want any from you. Four years is a long time, and we have lives to get on with.”

“Let’s call it…a pause. For us to get where we need to be.”

It’s a nice thought but the future feels so far away, despite how fast time seems to be going now. “Okay. A pause.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flattened coin, the mate to the one I still have in my jewelry box at home.

He kept it. He carries it with him.

There are no stopping the tears when he holds it up in front of my face. “Kiss it for luck.”

CHAPTER 6

FIVE YEARS LATER

“You can’t just take off!” Wilson exclaims, watching me throw some clothing into my suitcase.

“I’ll be back in a few days. My flight returns on Tuesday morning.”

He steps between me and the closet when I try to retrieve some shirts. “Stop. You said you’d be at our gig tomorrow night. This could be my big break and you’re going to bail on me?”

Anger simmers at the edge of my nerves.

When I met Wilson Harolds, I thought he was so cool. A drummer with a local band who has big dreams. I was thrilled when he asked me out and for the first year or so, being his girlfriend was exciting. Lots of bars and parties.

The last eight months have changed things and let me get a peek underneath who he is under the surface. There’s not much there but a man-child who always has to have his way.

“I’m sorry someone died and messed up your plans, Will, I really am.”

Missing my sarcasm completely, he shrugs. “It doesn’t have to. Just don’t go. Send some flowers or something.”

“No.” I veer off to the dresser to grab a few things. “She was my neighbor, and her kids are my friends. I’m going home for the funeral.”

“You said the funeral was Monday. Why are you leaving tonight?”

Because Alden might need me.

I haven’t seen him for over two years, and even then, we barely talked. My eighteenth birthday was the last time we spent any real time together, the last time he climbed through my window.

I moved on. He did too.

“To support their family in their grief. That’s what you do, Wilson, when someone dies.”

“Don’t preach at me,” he snaps. Hmm, he caught the condescension. I’m almost impressed.

“Then don’t be an asshole!”

A car horn honks from outside and he grabs his wallet, tucking it into his back pocket. “This is ridiculous. I don’t have time to argue with you. I have to get to rehearsal. If you leave, don’t bother to come back, Ella.”

He storms out the front door. There isn’t an ounce of him that believes I’ll still go. No way. His arrogance won’t let him entertain that idea. Had I thought that cockiness was cute when we first met? I had. How stupid.

His arrogance isn’t playful, like Alden’s was. Wilson actually believes his own bullshit.

I’m not an impulsive person. If anything, I overthink, but today my decision is made in a split second. I’m not happy with him. I’m not happy here. I’m going home.

Tori has offered multiple times to let me stay with her if I decided to move back. She left Florida right after our graduation to move back home while I chose to move in with Wilson.

Tori picks up her phone after a couple of rings. “Hey, I just heard,” she says.

“Have you heard from either of the twins?”

“No, but Breanna told me Oliver is doing as well as can be expected. They’re dating now, remember?”

I didn’t remember but I’m glad to hear he isn’t alone. “And Alden?”

“No idea.”

“I’m coming home. For good.”

A squeal makes me hold the phone away from my ear with a giggle. “Are you serious?”

“I am. Still want a roommate?”

“Hell yes, but I won’t be home until Monday. I’m in Michigan, remember?” That’s right. She did tell me she’d be out of town this week on a getaway with work friends. “Nobody else has a key to let you in.”

“It’s no problem. I’m sure I can stay at my parents until then.”

“You’re leaving Wilson?” she asks, realizing he hasn’t been mentioned.

“Packing now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll see you Monday.”

After we hang up, I make a quick call home, and Mom gives me a squeal almost equal to Tori’s. It puts tears in my eyes. I’m lucky to have people who miss me as badly as I miss them. She rattles on about getting my room ready and what to make for dinner.

“Mom, it’s only for a couple of nights, then I’m going to move in with Tori.”

“But you’ll be a few minutes away, not days! Your dad is going to be thrilled. I can’t wait to tell him.”

We hang up and I sit on the edge of the bed, surveying the sudden mess I’ve made by starting to pack. This has become a much bigger job. I won’t be going home on a plane now that it’s permanent. A two day drive wasn’t in my plans, but it is now.

A few hours later—before Wilson has time to return—I’m on the highway with everything I own packed around me. As the sun starts to set, smearing streaks of blue and purple across the horizon, I roll down my windows and turn on some music. Despite the situation, a contentment settles over me. I feel free.

I’ve just left my boyfriend of nearly two years. I should be sad or crying. Will I miss him later? It’s doubtful. The truth is I wanted to love someone, and when he said those three words, I said them back. Maybe I even believed it was true for a little while. Just because it didn’t feel the same as it did with Alden doesn’t mean it isn’t love, I told myself. After all, don’t we all get that one intense teenage love that others struggle to live up to?

I don’t know. All I know is the trip away from Alden felt like part of me died. I missed him every single day and dreamed about him almost every night for over a year. I’d wake sometimes, confused about where I was, and think I heard my bedroom window slide up. Then fight back tears when I realized. He was a hard person to let go of, but I finally managed to move on.

That doesn’t mean I won’t be there for him now. And for Oliver.

Wilson starts blowing up my phone a few hours later, but I ignore it and turn my music up. It’s past midnight when I stop at a hotel to get some sleep, and I’m back on the road early. By late afternoon, I stop to gas up the car and change clothes. January is a lot colder in Indiana.

It feels strange to turn onto my childhood street. The Taylor’s painted their house blue. It’s always been yellow. Different cars sit in the driveways. The Underwoods have moved and there’s a for sale sign in the yard. Trees have grown and bushes have been removed or changed. Everything is similar but with enough small differences to make me feel like I’ve stepped into a counterfeit version of my old neighborhood. Or maybe I’m just tired after the long drive.

The Stokes house is dark and empty. It’s a stark contrast to my parents’ home that’s lit up and alive with voices that can be heard when I reach the porch. I let myself in, set my bag in the foyer, and step into the living room.

“Ella!” Mom cries, leaping up from the couch and rushing over to hug me. Dad follows suit while Mom fusses over me, asking if I’ve had dinner or want a drink.

“I’m not hungry,” I assure her. “But a glass of wine sounds great.”

The other voices I heard are Tori’s mom and stepdad, Mia and Luke, who also sit in the living room. A couple bottles of wine adorn the table. Mia beams at me. “Tori texted to tell me you’re going to be roommates. That’s great news. I worry about her living alone, a young woman in the city, you know.”

Mom nods in agreement, pouring me a glass. “Oh yes, it’s scary. Things aren’t as safe as they used to be.”

I take a seat beside her. “Have you heard from Garrett lately?”

“Last week. He’s doing well. At least he says he is. I can’t imagine anyone loving Alaska this time of year, but he says he’s raking in the money working on those oil rigs.”

It takes a few minutes for the conversation to turn to the Stokes. “How did she die?” I ask Mom. “I know you said it was an accident.”

“It was. She…fell asleep in her bathtub.” She gives me a look like we’re discussing something taboo.

I expected a car accident or a fall. “She drowned?”

I look over at Mia, who presses her lips together. “Yes, one of her friends found her when she didn’t show up for work.”

What isn’t being said is evident to everyone. She didn’t fall asleep. She was drunk. “Didn’t you tell me she had quit drinking?” I ask Dad.

He nods from the recliner across from me. “She had for a couple of years. Recently, she fell back into the bottle pretty hard. We helped her out when we could and her boys checked on her, but you can’t make someone quit.”

“They have to want it,” Luke agrees.

“Those poor boys,” Mia says, sipping her wine. “They’ve had a hard way to go. Now they lost their mama.”

Alden confessed to me long ago, during one of the nights we lay curled up in my bed, that his mom drank all the time. I asked him if he thought it was her job as a bartender that led to it, the easy nightly access. Either way, he had told me, it was his dad’s fault. He’d left her, broke her heart, and put her in the position to have to bartend.

I didn’t argue with him. He needed someone to blame and hate then, and his father wasn’t exactly undeserving of it.

“Did anyone live with her? The house is dark and only her sedan is in the driveway,” I point out.

“No,” Mia replies. “Oliver moved into Greenlawn Apartments.” She taps her lip with her fingertip. “Oh, about six months ago, I’d say.”

“And Alden?”

Dad speaks up. “He lives in an apartment above his bike shop. I used to worry that boy would end up in prison or worse, but he seems to have outgrown the wild child phase. Looks like he’s doing well for himself.”

He made his dream come true. I’m happy to hear it. The wine combined with the little sleep I got last night starts to catch up with me, and I excuse myself to go to bed early.

My old room hasn’t changed, but Mom has put fresh sheets on my bed and left the window open a crack to air it out. It feels surreal to be back here. Did I just leave my boyfriend and the city I’ve lived in for the last five years?

That reminds me, I need to call and quit my job. It was a part-time gig cleaning hotel rooms, nothing glamorous, but it made ends meet and let me save a little when I didn’t get enough freelance work.

Photography is my love but making money in it can be hard. My childhood thoughts of traveling to photograph models was farfetched. Mostly, I’ve taken family shots, senior photos, and sold a few shots for marketing.

Despite my exhaustion, my mind won’t shut off and let me sleep. Now that I’m alone in the dark, anxiety seeps in. It’s probably to be expected since I uprooted my whole life on a whim.

I don’t regret it. Sometimes, I have trouble coping with change, and staying in Florida would’ve been a comfortable decision, but not the right one. It was never the plan.

After tossing and turning for hours, I’m starting to doze when I hear it. The soft squeak of the window sliding up. All I can see is his outline as he closes the window, and I flip on the bedside lamp.

My heart squeezes in my chest. Alden has changed in the two years since I last saw him. At twenty-four, his face has lost the last scraps of boyhood softness. Maybe it’s the scruff. His hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it. But his eyes. Those dark eyes that stare into mine are full of despair.

A knot in my throat makes it difficult to speak, and I swallow hard. He stands in his own silent struggle until I pull the covers back and utter, “Get in.”

He tosses off his jacket and jeans, then climbs under the blanket. The years apart fall away when he puts his arm around me.

I lay facing him, my head on his shoulder. “I tried to call you. And texted.”

“I saw. I just…couldn’t.”

“That’s alright. I’m so sorry about your mom.”

He doesn’t reply. After a minute, he rolls over and buries his face in my neck. He wraps his arms around me and holds on like he’s clinging to a life preserver in a turbulent river. If only I could save him from this.

All I can do is hold him while his body shakes with silent sobs. It rips me open to see him suffering. Tears drip down my face while I rub his back. There’s nothing I can say or do to make it any better. After a few minutes, he takes a deep breath and his grip on me loosens.

He turns over onto his back and scrubs at his face with his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lose it on you. Fuck.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s okay.”

“I didn’t really mean to come here, but I saw your car in the driveway.”

“I’m glad you’re here. You can probably use the door from now on,” I tease, and I’m glad to see a little grin get tossed in my direction.

“Considering that damn trellis snapped in one spot and almost dropped me on my ass, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Do you want to talk about it, Den?”

“No.” He sniffs and takes another deep breath. “Let’s talk about anything else. Let’s talk about you. How long are you in town?”

He rolls onto his side, so we’re facing each other. God, even tear stained, the man is gorgeous. “I’m staying. I’m moving in with Tori on Monday.”

His eyebrows leap up. “I didn’t know you were moving back. I thought maybe you came, you know, for the funeral.”

“I did. I mean, I was coming for the funeral, for you and Oliver. It’s a long story, but I made the decision to move at the last moment.”

I’d forgotten how scrutinizing those dark eyes could be. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Why not? It’s distracting him. “My original plan was to come back after college, but by graduation, I had a boyfriend I’d been with for over a year. He asked me to move in with him. I liked Florida, but it’s expensive, and I couldn’t find a good job. There was no shortage of photographers freelancing, too much competition. I’ll have a better chance here.”

“And the boyfriend?”

“He was a mistake that I spent too much time making. His reaction to me coming home to visit was the final straw. It opened my eyes, you know? Made me face the fact I was staying because it was easier than making a change. It never felt like home there.”

Alden leans up on his elbow to look down at me. “You left your boyfriend yesterday? Just like that?”

“He told me if I left to come home not to come back. It made me realize I didn’t want to come back.” Wilson chooses that moment to call my phone again. It lights up silently and I roll my eyes after I see his name, then toss it on the bed beside me. “He didn’t think I’d really leave, I guess. He’s still blowing up my phone.”

Alden glances at the screen. “Wilson? What kind of name is that?”

It’s good to see him joking despite the situation. His way of coping was always humor. “Shut up.”

“Do you love him?”

“No. We had some good times, but…no. Maybe I should feel bad about that, but he didn’t love me either. He’s just mad he isn’t getting his way.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad. We can’t control who we love.”

“Enough about my screwed up relationship. Tell me how you’ve been. Dad said the bike shop is doing well.”

His smile is proud. “It is. I’ve built a solid reputation. Word of mouth is the most powerful marketing you can have.”

“That’s wonderful. Do you enjoy the work?”

“I love it. I never want to do anything else.”

“I’m happy for you.” It was one of my worries when I chose photography, that the joy I felt behind the camera would fade. The novelty would wear off and it would start to feel more like a job instead of a passion. So far, that hasn’t happened.

My phone lights up again, this time with a text.

WILSON

Fine bitch. Don’t answer. Just wanted to let you know Lisa took your place on my cock so don’t bother coming back.

Alden watches me quietly while I read the text and let out a snort. He raises his eyebrows in a question.

“He’s texting and calling to tell me not to come back. Okay,” I scoff. I hold the phone up and let Alden read the text. He doesn’t look amused.

“Was he mean to you? Abusive?” God help him if my answer was yes, because Alden looks like he could tear him open at the thought.

“No, he’s a petulant child. I’ll block him.” The words are barely out of my mouth when the phone lights up yet again, and Alden grabs it. “What are you doing? Don’t you dare!” I hiss when he acts like he’s going to answer it.

His grin reaches from ear to ear. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Give me that phone.” My demand might’ve been a bit more convincing if I could say it without smiling.

“Come on, El. Let me mess with him.” He sticks out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “My mom died. How can you say no?”

“You did not just play the dead mom card.” He waves the phone in front of me. “Fine. No threatening him. He’s being an ass, but he’s hurt.”

Alden accepts the call. “Ella’s phone.”

I can’t hear what Wilson is saying, and Alden yanks it away when I reach to put it on speaker. “Who am I?” Alden says in a chipper voice. “Who are you?”

After a pause, he looks at me. “Wilson? El, baby, do you know a guy named after a volleyball?” Without waiting for my response—it’s not like the question was actually asked for my benefit—he keeps going. “She says she isn’t friends with any balls. You must have the wrong number.”

He listens for a few seconds and leaps off the bed when I make another lunge for the phone. “Like Wilson, the volleyball. How have you never seen Cast Away? Tom Hanks is a national treasure!”

Okay, time to stop him. I shouldn’t have let him answer in the first place. What was I thinking? This time when I make a grab for the phone, he lets it go, but he follows me, crying out, “Wilson! Wilson! I’m sorry, Wilson!”

He grins and leans against the wall when I shove him back.

I’m tempted to hang up, but it’s time to put an end to this. “You need to stop calling and texting. There’s nothing we need to say.”

Wilson’s voice blares through the phone. “Are you serious? You’re my girlfriend! And who the fuck was that?”

“I’m not your girlfriend. If you haven’t noticed, I moved out. You told me not to come back.”

“I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t!”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Lisa sucks cock better than you, anyway. I got a hundred fucking groupies waiting.”

“Then stop ringing my phone and go fuck them.”

I hang up and sit on the edge of the bed while I tap the screen to add him to my blocked calls list. There’s a knock at the door. Before I can say anything, it opens a few inches and Mom peeks in.

She looks at me, then at Alden standing beside my bed in boxers and a tee shirt. “Sorry, I heard voices. Everything okay?” Considering it’s the middle of the night, she doesn’t look too surprised to see him here.

“Fine. I was…on the phone.”

She nods and steps inside. “I’m sorry about your mother, Alden. If you or Oliver need anything, you let us know.”

He nods and when she steps up and hugs him, he looks like he’s fighting back tears again. Grief can be a brutal seesaw. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

Mom gives me a nod, then retreats, closing the door behind her.

“Let’s try to get some sleep, okay?” I suggest, turning out the light.

Alden and I crawl back into bed, and he cuddles me close. A few minutes of silence passes, and I think maybe he’s fallen asleep.

“Ella?” he whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Your mom hugged me in my underwear.”

A giggle spills out of me. “Did it turn you on?”

“Of course not, but it moved a little and she might’ve felt it. I can never look her in the face again.”

“Oh my god. Shut up.” My body shakes with silent laughter.

Another quiet moment ticks by before he speaks up again. “El?”

“Hmm?”

“The last two days have been the worst of my life.” The crack in his voice is mirrored in my heart. He holds me tighter, pulling my back against his chest. “You make things better. Thanks for coming back.”

“Wherever I am, my window is always unlocked, Den.”

Mrs. Stokes had looked out for her boys in one final way. Her funeral arrangements and burial were already planned and paid for. She didn’t want a showing or a big funeral. Instead, everyone who knew or loved her has gathered graveside in the cemetery. Once a short prayer is read, the casket begins to be lowered.

Oliver bows his head, his shoulders shaking with sobs and Alden steps up beside him. He puts his hand on his shoulder while they watch their mother put into her final resting place.

Almost everyone is in tears watching them.

After the crowd has dispersed and those remaining stand around the vehicles, talking, I pull Oliver aside. I saw him briefly this morning but not long enough to pay my respects and see how he’s doing.

“Hey,” he says, with a reluctant smile.

“Hi.” He leans down and lets me hug him. “Your mom was always so kind to me. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. She always liked you.” He fidgets with his hands. “Alden told me you moved back.”

“I’m going to be staying with Tori. If you or Alden need anything, please call me.”

Oliver nods and glances over to where his brother is talking to Tori’s dad. “Just keep an eye on him, okay? He’s under a lot of pressure. And now this…”

“I will.”

Oliver’s girlfriend, Breanna, joins us, taking his hand. “Are you ready?”

They excuse themselves and start toward his car. At least Oliver has plenty of support to get through this. I’m not sure what Alden has going on, but I meant what I said. I’ll keep an eye on him.

It’s starting to snow and almost everyone has left. Alden is walking toward his car alone when I catch up to him. I haven’t really spoken to him since the night I got back. He was gone when I woke up and only responded to my text to tell me he’d see me at the funeral. If he wants to be alone, it’s understandable, but I want to make sure he knows he doesn’t have to be.

“Where are you headed?” I ask.

“Home.”

“Do you want some company?”

His smile is soft, but he shakes his head. “The guys from work are coming over to drink. We’re closing up the shop early. Are you moving today?”

“Yeah. Staying with your parents is not the same as an adult.”

He chuckles, then his lips press together. “Did you see him standing at the back?”

“Who?” The sudden vitriol in his tone is alarming.

“My father.” I glance around and he adds, “He’s gone. But he was here. The fucking nerve.”

“He came all the way from Texas?”

Alden shakes his head. “No, he moved back over a year ago. Thought he was going to reunite with his sons. He can get fucked.”

Maybe that was what Oliver was talking about when he said Alden was under pressure. “What does Oliver think?”

“He says he doesn’t forgive him, but he tried to get me to talk to him.”

I take Alden’s hand. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

A scowl slams into me, and he yanks his hand away. “What?” He juts a finger toward his mother’s grave. “He is fucking responsible for that. It may have taken years, but he put her there. He put her in that bar. He broke her heart, left her with two kids and went off to live his fucking life, and you think I should forgive him?”

His anger shocks me. “No, I didn’t say forgive him. I thought…maybe it’d help you get some…closure or—”

“I don’t need any goddamn help from him!”

“Okay—”

“What the fuck do you know anyway, Ella? You left too. I don’t need shit from either of you.”

His words penetrate deep, throwing an ache into my chest as he yanks his car door open, gets inside, and takes off.

What the hell just happened?

Wiping a tear off my frozen face, I notice Tori approaching. She must’ve overheard some of that. “Are you alright?” she asks.

“I don’t know what that was about. I said the wrong thing, I guess, and…”

“Grief,” Tori says. “That’s what it was. It wasn’t personal, El. Give him some time.” She’s right, but it sure felt personal. Alden has never talked to me like that. I can’t even remember a time we were mad at each other. “Let’s go get your stuff moved in. Didn’t you say you needed to go shopping too?”

“Yes, I need a bed to start with. Let’s do it.”

CHAPTER 7

“Are you working today?” I ask Tori, slinging my backpack of photography gear over my shoulder.

“Not until eight. I only have the GED class tonight.”

Tori is a teacher at the adult education center. Her original career plan was to teach middle school, but it took her less than a year to realize that wasn’t the job for her. Or to put into her words, “Fuck them kids.” She’s much happier teaching adults in night school. Even the pay is higher.

“I only have one property to photograph and it’s near Cedro’s. If you want to go with me, we could get an early dinner.”

“I’m in. You shouldn’t be going to these creepy, empty places alone anyway.”

“It’s my job,” I laugh.

It’s a job I’m lucky to have found, especially so quickly. A local real estate company hired me barely a week after I returned from Florida. They facilitate the buying and selling of residential and commercial properties all over the city. It’s my job to take photos and videos for the listings. It can be boring—I have no interest in architecture or design—but it pays well and has short hours. That allows me to continue to freelance at events.

The property I’m being sent to today is a small, commercial building at the end of a row of shops.

When Tori and I walk in, she looks around. “This place has seen better days.”

“I think it’s cute. It just needs some paint.” A foam tile drops to the floor a few feet in front of us. “And someone to tear out that old drop ceiling,” I add.

“They don’t fix it up before taking pictures to sell it?” Tori asks.

Shrugging, I shove back the blinds on the windows to let in more light. “It depends on the property. They’re selling as is. The buyer can have an inspection done. Honestly, they aren’t asking much. If I thought I had any chance at a loan, I’d buy it myself.” I point to the back loft area. “I could do the boudoir and pregnancy photos up there and have this whole bottom space for babies.”

Tori and I have talked about my new desire for my career. Maternity and newborn photos are getting more popular. And the thought of helping women see their beauty by capturing it in a boudoir photo is something that I find appealing. I’ve always preferred photographing people instead of landscapes or buildings.

Tori tilts her head, studying the space. “Yeah, I could see that. You don’t think you’d get approved for a loan? You make decent money.”

“I’ve had my job for a whopping three weeks. No way.”

Tori waits by the front door while I get all the shots I need. After I record a short walk- through video, we lock the place back up and head to the restaurant.

The dinner crowd hasn’t started filling the place up yet. Cedro’s is one of the best Mexican restaurants in the city. It’s a good three hour wait on the weekend if you can get in at all. We’re seated quickly and served complimentary chips with salsa and queso.

Tori watches the waitress serve drinks to the next table. “Ugh, I wish I could have a margarita, but they make them strong, and I probably shouldn’t go to work buzzed. My math is bad enough.”

“I could see you now.” I raise the pitch of my voice to imitate her. “What’s the square root of…oh, who gives a fuck, turn on some music!”

We laugh and talk while we eat. When we’ve finished, Tori drops a question on me. “Would you date someone you work with?”

“I’ve never really thought about it. You have your eye on another teacher?”

She sits back in her chair and sips her drink. “It’s not a teacher. He works as a custodian for the school system. We’ve been talking after classes.”

“It might put you in an awkward position later if things didn’t work out. What’s he look like?”

Tori whips out her phone, taps the screen, and holds it out. A man with a cocky smile and shoulders about a mile apart stands against a cinderblock wall with his arms crossed.

“Girl, he could buff my floors any day. Definitely worth the risk.”

Tori cracks up. “Right? He’s a real sweetheart too. His name is Paul. He asked me out yesterday and I haven’t given him an answer yet.” She shrugs and pulls out some money to tip. “I’m going to go out with him.”

“Find out if he has a brother,” I quip.

“You know, I honestly thought you and Alden would finally get together once you came back. He was in your bed the first night.”

I pay our check, and we walk out to my car as we talk. “It wasn’t like that. There was no sex that night, he was upset. I don’t think Alden is the relationship type. I came to terms with that a long time ago. I didn’t move back for him or because I expected anything from him.”

“I know, but you belong together. Anyone can see that. Except you two. Have you heard from him since the funeral?”

Not a peep, and I won’t pretend that doesn’t hurt. “No. Oliver says he’s doing okay, working a lot. He doesn’t answer if I call.”

“Men suck,” Tori sighs. She lays a hand on her stomach. “And I ate way too much. I don’t want to go to work.”

“Not even for Mr. Buff and Shine?”

A smile darts to her lips. “Okay, I want to go to work.”

An hour after she leaves, it starts to snow. I throw on my coat and brave the bitter cold long enough to salt our driveway and steps. I’m glad I don’t have to work tomorrow because it’s really coming down and doesn’t look like it’ll be stopping anytime soon.

With that done, I take a hot shower, taking my time to shave and moisturize. It’s a nice quiet night and my only plan is to curl up on the couch and read.

A knock at the door changes my mind.

Bundled in a coat with a beanie pulled down over his ears, Alden looks down at me when I open the door. “Is your window still unlocked?”

Of course, it is. I can’t help it. He needs me. Wordlessly, I step back and let him come inside. He shucks off his coat and whips the beanie off, tucking it into his pocket. They get tossed onto the rack beside the door and his hands land softly on my shoulders.

Dark eyes delve into mine. “Ella, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“After a month, you came out in a snowstorm to tell me that?”

“You deserve to hear it in person.” He brushes my hair off my cheek. “Can we talk? Are you busy?”

“I was just reading.” He follows me into the living room and sits beside me on the couch. When he reaches for my hand, I pull it back. Not this time. We aren’t a couple, and I’ve come to accept we never will be. That wasn’t my expectation when I decided to move back. But he’s supposed to be my friend.

“You’re angry, I know,” he says.

“No shit. The difference is I don’t ignore your calls and messages because you pissed me off. That’s not how I treat my friends. And it’s not how I’m going to allow my friends to treat me.”

“You’re right.”

“I know.”

His lip twitches up in amusement but he knows better than to let it turn to a grin. “It won’t happen again, El. That’s why I’m here. I want to explain and apologize.”

My phone beeps with a text message from Tori.

TORI

You believe this bullshit? The roads are awful and they’re closing the highway. I’m not driving all the way home. Sleeping at my parents’ place.

I send her a quick text telling her to be careful getting there and set the phone aside. “Tori says they closed the highway, and the roads are becoming impassable. Are you sure you want to get stuck here all night?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Do I? I’m pissed and hurt. It took him showing up to realize how much, but I also want to hear him out. “You can always sleep on the couch, I suppose. We may as well grab a drink and get comfortable.”

I’m not a big drinker, but I like to have a vodka and cranberry some nights. Tori keeps a couple of flavors of schnapps, and there’s a nearly full bottle of bourbon one of her friends left here over a month ago.

“Take your pick,” I tell Alden. “There’s pop and juice in the fridge.”

I mix my drink while Alden grabs a glass and the bottle of bourbon, then follows me out to the porch.

One thing I love about this house is the side porch. It’s been completely enclosed into more of a sunroom, with glass windows lining the upper half of three walls. Tori says it gets too hot in the middle of summer, but with the little space heater I bought, it’s perfect in the winter. It’s furnished with an overstuffed sofa and a coffee table that’s seen better days.

We sit on the couch, and I take a sip of my drink.

Alden swallows a mouthful of bourbon, refills his glass and turns to sit facing me. He opens his mouth twice and closes it again. Whatever he’s trying to say, he’s struggling to get started.

“Just tell me why you wouldn’t talk to me. You couldn’t have been that pissed when I suggested talking to your dad. It’s not like I was pressuring you.”

“You weren’t. It wasn’t your fault. I overreacted. I had a lot of stuff going on and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.” Sincerity floods his words.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing for your reaction in the cemetery. I never held that against you. You were grieving. I know you still are, but it was the weeks since that hurt, Alden.”

He scrubs his hands over his face. “I was stressed. It seemed like everything was happening at once. Mom died, Dad showed up, then you came back, and there was something else I’ll get into in a minute, but it felt like everything was piling on.”

“I added to your stress? I’ve never asked anything of you.”

“Ella, fuck, you don’t understand. It’s taken everything in me the last few years not to come find you. I missed you like hell and thought about you every day. It didn’t matter if you had a boyfriend or if I was seeing someone. They didn’t mean shit to me. All I could think about was you.”

He swallows hard and looks me in the eye. “Then suddenly you were here and every reason I had to leave you alone wasn’t enough to keep me away. I couldn’t. All I wanted to do was spend every second with you. Despite knowing I shouldn’t.”

His confession nails me in place. He’s describing the way I felt without him those first couple of years. When I would still think back on him saying it wasn’t the end, just a pause. When I still believed we had some chance in the future.

Before I grew up.

There’s something I need to ask that has eaten at me for too long. “The night we spent together before I moved, when I told you I loved you, and you said it back…did you mean it?” I stare into my drink, unable to face him. “Did you love me too?”

He reaches out and tips my chin up until I’m looking him in the eye. “Ella, I’ve loved you since we were kids. I wouldn’t know how to stop if I wanted to. That night meant everything to me.”

“Me too,” I whisper, remembering how sweet it was, how safe he made me feel when I was afraid.

He sighs and takes a drink. “It’s never been a lack of feelings that kept us apart, only circumstances.”

“Because I left for college? That’s normal, that’s what people do.”

“It wasn’t that. I’m sorry I used that against you when I was angry. Even if you’d stayed, we couldn’t have been together. I was into a lot of illegal shit, El. Stuff I didn’t want you to be around. I couldn’t put you at risk.”

“The fights and drugs?”

He shakes his head. “That made me a lot of money, about half of what I needed to buy Freddy’s share of the garage.” Guilt creases his face while he confesses. “The rest I borrowed from Manson.”

His words carry so much weight I’m tempted to look for them on the floor. He can’t be serious. “You got a loan from Manson?”

“Yes.”

My heart thumps against my ribs. Manson is well known, not only in our neighborhood but in the whole city. He’s infamous for having connections to gangs—and if you believe the rumors—the mob. Whether that’s true or not, one thing is certain, he’s a loan shark that you do not fuck with. Even his name comes from his reputation of being crazy, like Charles Manson.

“How much do you owe him?” My question comes out in a whisper.

“Nothing. That’s all in the past. I paid him off over a year ago. We shook hands, business done, and that’s the end of it. It went how I planned. I made enough money building and repairing bikes. It took me longer than I thought it would, but it’s over.”

“He could’ve killed you.” Alden was always a risk taker, but I never imagined he’d risk his life.

“Nah, then he’d never get his money back.”

“It’s not funny.”

“I know. Things seemed like they were finally starting to come together. Everything I’d worked for since I was fourteen and started selling weed. You were close to graduation, and I thought you’d be home by summer.”

“But I stayed. To be with Wilson.”

Alden nods and takes another drink. “I can’t tell you how many times I considered showing up at your door, but I knew I couldn’t. We hadn’t even spoken in years, and if you’d found someone, I had no right to cause trouble between you.” He grins, thinking back. “Tori told me the guy was a loser and that you’d be back. It was my turn to be patient.”

My mind spins with everything he’s just told me. “That doesn’t explain why you avoided me the past month. If Manson isn’t an issue anymore, and you’ve stopped all your illegal activities. We’re both single.”

The smile on his face is bitter. “Sometimes, I think the universe hates me, or maybe it’s smart enough to know I’m not worthy of you. Nothing can ever line up right. About five months ago, I started seeing this woman I met at a concert. We were only fucking. It was nothing serious—at least to me—but she got pregnant. She’s chosen to keep it and she swears it’s mine, even though she also admits sleeping with someone else at the time. And it could be. I always used condoms, but it could be mine.”

That he could have a baby on the way is the last thing I expected to hear. It settles heavily in my chest. Maybe I have no right to be jealous, but the thought of another woman having his child hurts like hell. “Do you…want it to be?”

“Fuck no. I barely know her. And she’s crazy. She showed up, trying to get me to agree to a relationship. I told her I wanted a DNA test once the baby is born, and she screamed so loud that the guys came running out of the shop thinking she was hurt. She’s not even halfway through the pregnancy. I don’t know what’s going to happen, how things are going to turn out. I can’t drag you into my bullshit, especially when she doesn’t seem particularly stable.”

He sighs, sitting back. “Life isn’t fucking fair, we all know that, but to have another thing happen to keep us apart right when you returned, and losing mom, fighting with Oliver over Dad. I felt like I was going crazy. I stepped away from everyone and everything but work.”

“Why come here tonight then, Alden? If nothing has changed?”

“Because I know I hurt you and you deserve to know why. And to apologize.”

He gazes at me while I try to process everything he’s just told me. It churns in my head, the stupid things he’s done, the risks he took, but in the end things worked out for him. He has his business and he never got caught or hurt.

The most stunning thing was to learn how he’s felt all this time when I assumed he had moved on from whatever feelings he had for me. He loved me. He still loves me.

One thing is clear.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

He blinks and stares at me.

“Circumstances aren’t keeping us apart. You are. You have this idea that you aren’t good enough for me. You always have. And you’re wrong. You put me up on a pedestal and it’s not where I belong. I don’t want to look down on you. I never have. I’m not some dainty woman you need to protect from the things going on in your life. You don’t get to make the decision about what I can and can’t handle. I’m sorry for what you’re going through, but you can’t use it as a cop out when it comes to us. I’m still in love with you. I doubt that will ever go away, but what you do with that is up to you. There’s no more pausing. No more being patient or waiting on things to be the way you think I deserve them to be. You can trust me enough to know I’ll stick with you through the bad stuff, the way I always have, or we can let this be the end. I can be your girl, or I can be your friend. The way Oliver and I are friends.”

The subtext in the last statement isn’t lost on him. Friends don’t climb through the window in the middle of the night. They don’t hold each other in the dark.

“I need another drink,” I exclaim, and snatch my glass off the table. There’s a knot in my throat while I return to the kitchen to pour another cranberry and vodka, but I’m determined not to cry tonight. I’ve said what I need to say, and I meant it.

When I turn around, Alden stands right in front of me. “You can’t be my friend. You’re my world.”

His lips land on mine a bare second before his tongue dives into my mouth. My hands leap to his shirt, grasping it in my fists to pull him closer. I can’t get close enough. Despite my efforts to move on, I missed him so much. There’s never been anyone who can make me feel like this. Like the whole world could dissolve around us and drain away into the universe and it wouldn’t matter. His hand is on the back of my neck, and he slides it up into my hair. The kiss goes on forever, neither of us wanting to break the connection we’ve both craved for too long.

He grips a handful of my hair and tugs, pulling my head back. We’re both breathing hard, the sound filling the silent kitchen. His eyes delve into mine. “Is this what you want?”

“I want you.”

He lowers his head and drags his lips up my neck, over my jaw to my lips. “You have me.”

“Not just in my bed. I want all of you. I want your heart.” My body is screaming for his, but sex isn’t going to solve everything.

“It’s all yours and always was,” he murmurs against my lips, peppering his words with searing kisses. “And every fucking trace of you is mine, Ella.”

The joy and relief of his words is overwhelming, but the feel of his lips on me overrides everything. My hands can’t get enough of him, roaming his body, feeling the warm skin under his shirt while he kisses me until I can’t breathe.

The little rumble in the back of his throat when I cup the bulge in his jeans and squeeze gently triggers something in me. A desperation to draw more of those sounds from him. I want to hear him groan and growl, watch him lose control because of me. Show him I’m not the same little virgin girl he had before.

His hands are perfectly rough from his job, and the sensation they leave behind on my skin while they explore is more sensual than anything I’ve felt before. There’s one thing that I never got to do with him and my mouth waters at the thought. When I unfasten his jeans, he grabs my hand.

“I want you in a bed this time.”

“My room is upstairs.”

Without a word, he leans down and scoops me up over his shoulder. “Alden! I can walk,” I laugh as he charges upstairs.

He reaches up and presses his hand between my legs through my thin sweat pants. “You won’t be able to tomorrow.”

“Fine, but I’m sucking your dick first.”

His groan as he pushes my bedroom door open and places me on the bed is accompanied with a mumble that sounds like “Fucking killing me.”

He hooks his fingers under the waistband of my sweats and panties together, then pulls them off. I get rid of my shirt, and he stands between my legs while I lie back on the bed, my feet on the floor. My skin flushes when he looks down at me. There’s something so intimate about being naked in front of someone who is fully dressed.

“Beautiful. I’ve thought about this for years,” he says, running a teasing finger down one of my thighs and up the other.

I sit up, and free his erection from his jeans and underwear, tugging them down to his thighs. His chest rises and falls in fast jerks. His lips part, and the desperate anticipation in his expression drives my desire to a peak. I’m going to make him come so hard.

He hisses through his teeth when I lean forward and lick around the head. Wrapping my hand around the base snugly, I suck him in. His whole body gives a little jerk. One thing I’ve always heard is that blow jobs are all about enthusiasm and there’s no shortage of that. At this moment there’s nothing I want more than to make him feel good.

With a hum, I take him deeper and deeper. The leisurely pace combined with my stellar—if I do say so myself—deep throating skills have the desired effect. His moans and gasps, broken by occasional words of praise, spur me on.

His hands are in my hair, stroking, but it turns to a grip when I speed up. His hips start jutting forward, and I can feel him fighting the urge to push my head. Without stopping, I put my hand on his and push my head forward, giving him permission.

A curse falls from his lips. He grabs my hair tighter and thrusts into my throat. My hands are on his hips while he fucks my mouth. When his thrusts grow staggered, I take more control, keeping a brutal pace until he barks out my name. His body stills while I swallow what he gives me.

I peek up at him and the sight makes the pulsing between my legs unbearable. His lips are parted, sweat glistening on his face. One last gentle suck throws a full body shiver through him. The vulnerability shimmering in his eyes when he opens them and looks down at me is everything. It takes bare seconds for it to be replaced by heat, and a wicked smile forms on his face.

It screams of a promise to fuck me half to death.

He steps out of his jeans and pulls his shirt off. When I reach to touch his chest, he pulls me to my feet and backs me against the wall.

“Den?”

He chuckles and the deep dark sound of it makes my insides clench. I’ve never seen this side of him. Neither of us really knows the other’s sexual proclivities. It’s clear I surprised him. Now it’s his turn.

“You brought me to my knees, Ella. Don’t think that sweet little voice is going to save you now.”

His words set my body on fire. “Condom,” I manage to spit out. “In the nightstand.”

“Good to know.” He presses his body to mine, flattening my back against the wall. “Spread your legs good and wide.” He uses his foot to scoot mine apart, and I grab onto his arms to keep my balance.

He kneels in front of me.

Oh god. My hands fly to his shoulders when he slips a thick finger inside me. “You like that?” he asks, teasing me with slow, deliberate movements.

All I can do is nod.

“Don’t come,” he warns.

“Fuck,” I breathe, leaning my head back against the wall. He leans forward and licks my clit. I’m so close to the edge already, I expect it to happen fast, but he isn’t having that. He knows exactly what he’s doing, alternating soft licks and firmer strokes with his fingers. Bringing me to the edge with his lips around my clit, then stopping right before I fall over it.

I’m soaked in sweat. Every inch of my skin is sensitive and screaming for relief. “Alden, goddamn it.” I grab his hair, pulling it, and his chuckle is infuriating.

He lifts my knee and slings one of my legs over his shoulder. His tongue resumes its magic while he works his finger inside and this time when I get close, he doesn’t stop. My hand tightens in his hair, and he growls when I press his face against me harder.

He sucks my clit softly but steadily and the orgasm that’s been building since he kissed me in the kitchen bursts through me. His name flies from my mouth, and I grab onto his shoulders with both hands. My legs don’t exist anymore, but he holds me up while I tremble and cry out. When I start to get my equilibrium back and open my eyes, he picks me up and takes me back to the bed.

My eyes never leave him while the condom is rolled on, and I run my hands over his body once he crawls on top of me. For a long moment, he stares into my eyes, then brushes his fingers down my cheek.

“I’ve never come like that,” I confess. “I think you ruined me.”

He grins that killer grin and drops a kiss on my lips. Sliding his thick cock inside me in one slow, deep thrust, he replies, “Sweetheart, I’m just getting started.”

He isn’t kidding. Alden has stamina and more ability to bounce back than I’ve seen. Granted, I’ve only been with a couple of other guys. Still, no one measures up to him in bed in any way. I adore how different he can be. Demanding and rough, sweet and loving. I get a taste of it all and I can’t wait for more.

Once we’re both satiated, we lie wrapped around one another, and I’ve never felt so content. He strokes the back of my head while my fingers play through his chest hair. After a few peaceful minutes, his stomach lets out a loud growl.

“Did you skip dinner?” I laugh.

He runs his fingertips between my legs. “I had something more important to eat.”

“Well, my pussy clearly doesn’t have the calories you need. Come on, I’ll make you something.” I scoot out of bed and look back at him. “Are you getting hard again?” Damn, he’s a machine.

“You said pussy, El. What do you expect?”

“Really? How do you feel about hearing me say cock?”

He tucks his arms behind his head and grins up at me while I pull on my sweatpants and a tee shirt. “Hmm, might depend on the context.”

I lean over him and kiss his jaw before talking into his ear. “How about I love your big cock and I can’t wait to suck it again.” When he grabs for me to pull me back into bed, I step back and smile. “Ah ah. I’m hungry too. Let’s go downstairs.”

“Teasing is just going to get you fucked harder when I get ahold of you again,” he says, putting his pants on.

“I’ll do my best to adjust my behavior then. No talking about cocks or pussy or riding you all night.”

A squeal leaps out of me when he darts around the bed and chases me downstairs.

God, I’ve missed him.

After grabbing a snack, we return to the side porch to snuggle on the couch.

We sit in the dark, watching the snow fall. It seems to glow as it passes the streetlight, muffling the world and giving everything a faint blue hue. Alden cuddles me close under the blanket.

I hate to revisit the subject, but there’s something he should know. “You said you were waiting to get a DNA test when the baby is born?”

“Yes, I’ll probably have to get a lawyer since she says she won’t do it.”

“You don’t have to wait until then if you don’t want to. They can tell paternity from a blood test now. They take blood from the mother and swab the father’s cheek. I went with a friend my freshman year of college when she had it done. It was more expensive, but she found out at three months pregnant who the father was.”

He turns toward me. “Seriously? That’s possible?”

“Yes. If you have enough money.”

“That’s not an issue.” He rubs his hand across his cheek, making a raspy sound against his stubble. “I’ll call a lawyer tomorrow. The sooner I know, the better.” He pauses before continuing. “If it’s mine, I have to be a part of its life. You understand that, right? I won’t be like my dad.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of you.” The idea of him having a child with another woman is excruciating, but it would be a part of him, and I’ll love it too.

His body relaxes and he wraps his arm around me again. “Tell me what I’ve missed, El. What have you been up to since you got back? Oliver told me you found a job. Do you like it?”

“It’s okay. Pays the bills. I take marketing photos for a real estate company. Some are staged homes, but most are empty houses and buildings. I’m taking freelance jobs as well to save up money. Weddings, engagements, parties, et cetera. I’m saving to open my own studio.”

His fingers lightly caress my arm. The joy such a simple sign of affection gives me is unbelievable. Maybe because it’s still surreal that we’re finally together.

“What kind of photography do you plan to do with your own studio?”

“It’ll be focused on women and mothers. Maternity, infants, boudoir pics. There’s a big market for that now but no studios in our area that focus on it. I actually saw a great place today when I was working. Hopefully, I’ll find something similar in a few years when I might qualify for a mortgage loan. I’m already doing better than I was in Florida. I’ll get there eventually.”

“I know you will. How is it living with Tori?”

“Good. We lived together in Florida too, remember?”

“Ah, that’s right.”

I slide my hand into his, interlocking our fingers. “What’s been going on with you? I saw the for sale sign on your mom’s house.”

“Oliver and I decided to sell. Neither of us wants to live there.”

“I’m glad to see you and Oliver getting along again.” They’re the only family either of them has, except their dad, who hardly counts.

“We’re going to have to now. We used the money from the sale of the house to buy out Lewis. The old bastard is finally ready to retire. Oliver and I are partners. I own sixty percent, he owns forty. He’ll handle the business side of things. The accounting, inventory, all that shit he’s good at, while I do the hands-on stuff.” He grins at me. “We already ordered a new sign. Stokes Brothers Custom Cycles. How does that sound?”

He's so happy. I straddle his lap and look him in the eye. “Like you made your dream come true. I’m proud of you. You did it.”

The slight blush that washes over his cheeks is adorable. “You’re the dream, El.”

CHAPTER 8

Voices from the kitchen wake me the next morning. My sheets smell like Alden, and I breathe in the scent, replaying last night in my mind. We’re together. The man I thought would never settle down and want a relationship is all mine.

My body aches from all the sex last night. If he’s going to fuck me like that every time, I need to get in better shape. I open my dresser, throw on some clothes, give my teeth a quick brushing, then join them in the kitchen.

Alden leans against the counter, a cup of coffee steaming in his hand. His eyes scan over me like I’m wearing lingerie instead of sweatpants and a hoodie. “Morning gorgeous.”

“Good morning.” It certainly is. He looks ridiculously sexy with his mussed hair, dark jeans, and fitted tee that outlines his lean muscles.

Tori pipes up from her place at the table. “Your boyfriend cleaned off your car and shoveled the walk. We’re keeping him.”

“We are, huh? When did you get home?”

“About half an hour ago. The roads aren’t too bad.”

Unable to resist him any longer, I walk over and slide my arms around Alden’s waist and plant a kiss on his lips. “Do you have to work today?”

“Nope. The guys have it handled. Plus, we’re going to close the shop early to go to the reservoir.” He gazes down at me and kisses me again. “You’ll need a change of clothes. Warm ones.”

Tori chuckles and starts digging in the fridge.

“Why would we go to the reservoir?”

“To jump in.” He says it like it’s not a completely insane idea.

“One night with me and you’re suicidal? Wow, I’ll try not to take that personally.”

He pinches my ass. “It’s for charity. It pays the heat bill for the elderly who can’t afford it. They call it the polar bear plunge.”

“How does jumping into freezing water raise money?”

“They have some loaded sponsors who donate a specific amount for each person who goes in. I can’t remember how much. The organizer sent someone around to local businesses to recruit. It sounded like fun, so I signed up my crew.”

Tori shoves a bag of potatoes at me. “Here, peel these. I’ll make some fried potatoes and biscuits and gravy.”

I take them and start peeling. “And how did I end up volunteered for this plunge?”

“Well, you don’t have to, but just think of all those poor decrepit people who won’t have heat.”

Tori snorts a laugh with her back to us while I roll my eyes.

“That’s not going to work,” I tell him, throwing a chunk of potato peel at his head. “And you can’t call them decrepit.”

He snatches it out of the air and continues. “They’ll have to wrap their frail, rickety bodies in blankets and hope for the best. Poor old Myrtle, doddering around in her slippers to stay warm. And Elmer, he can’t even get a warm bath since his water heater runs on gas. His balls will freeze to his chair.”

Tori and I are both shaking with laughter when he shrugs. “But hey, if you can live with yourself, I’m not judging.”

“Fine, I’ll go. Tori?”

“I’d rather stick my tit in a mousetrap. No way. You guys have fun. I have a date tonight.”

“Kinky,” Alden says.

We talk for a while about Tori’s date while we eat breakfast. It’s comfortable, hanging out with Tori and Alden like this again. Like the years between didn’t change a thing.

After we finish and clean up, I pull on a tiny pair of black shorts and a deep red tank top. I’m not wearing a swimsuit when it’s thirty degrees outside. I put jeans and a hoodie on over the top of them and pack a bag with an extra set of clothes as well.

Alden and I have been together less than a day and I’m already off to do something crazy. One thing he’s never been is boring.

We stop at Alden’s place, which is an apartment above his bike shop. “The guys are still here,” he remarks when we walk inside. “Let me introduce you.”

There are a few motorcycles sitting in the bays, plus two that look like they’re half built, but no one is working on them. Laughter spills out from the office, and Alden leads me back.

The office door stands open, giving us a view of a very large man in a very tight wetsuit. “You can both fuck off,” he says. “I’m not going to give myself a heart attack in that freezing water.”

A guy sits on the couch with his hand covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking. He’s young, probably around our age, and he looks like he could model if he decided being a mechanic isn’t his thing. He laughs harder when we step in, and Alden looks the larger man up and down.

“Do you want some flippers and a snorkel?” Alden asks him.

“You got us into this bullshit.”

Alden gestures to the man. “Babe, meet Milo. Milo, this is my girlfriend, Ella.”

At well over six feet tall, with a broad chest and considerable stomach, Milo is a sight in the wetsuit. His graying beard hangs down to his chest and his salt and pepper hair is nearly as long.

His voice is gruff, but his smile is pleasant. “Nice to meet you. It’s about time Alden brought you around here. He talks about you all the time.”

“That’s good to know.” I peek up at Alden who purses his lips and shakes his head like he’s lying. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“The little asshole lounging on my couch is Hudson, and the one at Oliver’s desk over there is Smith.” It totally slipped my mind that Oliver works here too.

Smith looks up from the computer he’s on and gives me a smile. He’s good looking with a bit of a hipster thing going on, manbun and all. “Good to meet you.”

“You too.”

He glances at Alden. “Oliver called and asked me to put in an order. Supplier screwed something up. He said he’ll meet us at the reservoir.”

“Okay.” Alden leans against the doorjamb. “Is Harry coming?”

Smith tilts his head down and looks over the top of his black rimmed glasses at him. “Yes, but you don’t want to know what I had to promise.”

“No, we don’t,” Milo says.

Smith closes the laptop and drags his gaze over Milo in a long, exaggerated sweep. “You’re the one looking slutty right now. Come over here and I’ll give you a little reach-around before we go.”

All the guys crack up, and Alden slaps Milo’s back. “We’ll see you there, Merman.” He takes my hand, and we start toward the back of the garage where a set of stairs lead up to a door.

“They seem nice,” I tell Alden while he unlocks the door and lets us into his apartment. It’s not huge but it’s nicer than what I anticipated an apartment above a garage to be. His living room is small and cozy, with comfortable furniture and a large TV. It opens into a combination dining area and kitchen.

“They’re a good crew. We all get along. Milo is the manager and he’s good at keeping Hudson on task. That guy has the attention span of a flea, especially if a pretty woman is around, but his work is solid. Smith is smart as hell and efficient.”

“Did you hire them, or did they work for Freddy and Lewis before?” I ask, wandering around and checking out his home.

“I hired Hudson and Smith. Milo worked with Freddy for almost twenty years as his bike mechanic. He knows his shit.”

Along the wall of the living room and kitchen are floor to ceiling windows that look down over the repair bays. Alden steps up behind me when I walk over to peer out. I can see Smith and Hudson standing outside the office, talking.

“Can they see us?” It’s not very private if every customer and employee can look in.

He slides an arm around me from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder. “No. When we go back down, have a look. The windows are one way mirrored. You can’t see anything but your own reflection.”

Hot breath hits my ear. “Are you thinking about me fucking you against those windows?”

“Now I am.”

He runs his lips over my neck. “Later. I’ve spent so much time thinking about the different ways I want to make you come, Ella.”

My stomach tightens, and I run my hand down his thigh. “I have a few ideas myself.” Sighing, I step away. “But you’d rather go dive into frigid water.”

He chuckles and swats me on my ass. “I’ll make it up to you in orgasms tonight.”

I’m not going to argue with that. He changes his clothes and grabs some extra ones. When we return downstairs the guys are gone.

“I like your place. Do you like living where you work?” I ask him as we’re driving to the reservoir. It must be convenient but I’m not sure I’d like it if it were me. It might feel like I’m always at work.

“It’s fine for now. Makes things easier. In the beginning when money was an issue, it saved me from paying rent.”

“It’s hard to start a business. You’ve done amazing. I hope you know that.” I hope I can be as successful.

Embarrassment mixed with pride shows in his grin. “I’m happy with how things have turned out.” He squeezes my knee. “Especially now.”

I’m surprised at the size of the crowd that’s gathered on the small beach at the west side of the reservoir. Alden parks his truck beside Oliver’s car, and we make our way down the slight hill, taking one of the paths worn through the snow.

People mill around in various states of dress. A few brave souls wear swimsuits or trunks. Others are wrapped in thick coats and hats, probably only here to watch or cheer someone on. The sound of happy voices and laughter are contagious, along with the current of excitement that runs through the crowd.

The guys from Alden’s shop stand at the edge of the water. It looks like they’re arguing over who is going in first. Alden spots Oliver and we head over to where he stands with Breanna.

“Ella,” Breanna says, glancing at Alden’s hand in mine. “I’m glad you came.” She leans over to give me a warm hug.

“It’s good to see you too.” Oliver and Alden wander a few feet away, talking while Breanna and I catch up.

“Are you and Alden together now?” she asks.

“Yes, we are.”

“Oliver didn’t tell me!” she exclaims, frowning at him from a distance.

“It just happened last night.”

“Oh, well, look at us with the two sexiest guys in town,” she says, as they approach us. “Every girl in our high school would hate us.”

“Don’t make their heads any bigger than they already are,” I laugh.

Alden scoffs and slings his arm around me. “I’m aware of my irresistible face and body.”

“I got the modest one.” Breanna sidles up to Oliver, but he barely pays attention.

“Are we doing this?”

Ignoring his curt response, she smiles. “I’m ready.” She follows Oliver toward the bank.

“What’s up Oliver’s ass?” I ask, stripping off my jeans and hoodie to get down to the tank top and shorts. The cold wind instantly throws goosebumps over my skin.

“Who knows?” Alden follows suit and we toss our clothes and towels on the tables provided. We check in with the sponsors to make sure we’re counted, then Alden takes my hand while we walk down to the water.

The water laps gently at the shore. Two steps in and I’m already regretting this. It feels like tiny needles on my skin. Alden must see the intention to retreat in my expression because he grabs me around my thighs and tosses me over his shoulder. “Oh no you don’t. Let’s make this easy. We’ll do it together.”

“Don’t you dare!” I shriek.

Laughter rings out around us as he charges into the water and dunks both of us completely under. It feels like someone hit my chest with a hammer. For a few seconds after we surface and he lets me go, I forget how to breathe.

“Hate…you,” I gasp, slapping at him.

He’s taking short gasping breaths too, but his smile is wide. He grabs me and pulls me close to him in the shoulder deep water. “Feeling refreshed?”

“My nipples could key a car!”

He plants a kiss on my quivering lips. “Come on, El. My dick is about an inch long and my balls have climbed up into my stomach but I’m not complaining.”

His dark hair hangs in his eyes, and I sweep it aside, then kiss him back. We’re freezing, and my skin has gone from feeling like it’s being scratched with a hundred knives to turning numb. The wind makes my ears feel like they could fall off. River rocks are like razors under my feet. None of that matters when his warm tongue slips between my lips, and I close my eyes, soaking in the moment.

I’ve never felt so aware of my body and what it can take. It’s a strange feeling, to suffer in such a controlled way. It makes me feel alive.

Shrieks and cries fill the air around us as people wade and dive in. We stay close together through all the splashing and celebrating. Despite the discomfort, I’m having fun.

Alden grins at me. “Ready to get out?”

“Definitely.”

Laughing, he takes my hand, and we start walking toward the shore. I lag behind, and he looks back at me. “Sorry, the rocks hurt my feet.”

He turns his back to me. “Piggyback ride?”

He doesn’t have to offer twice. I cling onto his back while he walks us out of the river and over to the tables. Oh, this is worse. The wind is worse.

We wrap in towels and rush over to the makeshift changing area the organizers have made from a couple of tents. The relief of stepping inside the tent and out of the wind is instant. My whole body shakes while we strip out of the wet clothes and dry off. My numb fingers fumble with the button on my jeans.

“Milo had the right idea with that wetsuit,” I say through chattering teeth.

“Nah, that’s the weak way. Look at us, we killed it.”

Once we’re dressed, we step outside the tent to let two frozen women inside. I pull my hair up in a ponytail and put my beanie on. It’ll get soaked but it’ll work until we get to Alden’s truck.

One of the organizers offers us a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. I choose the chocolate while Alden accepts the coffee. Cradling the warm cup, I stand beside Alden and watch while more and more people show up to brave the water.

“Do you want to see if Breanna and Oliver want to have dinner with us?” I ask.

Alden shrugs. “If he isn’t still being a dick.”

It’s only a few minutes later that we see Oliver and Breanna arguing outside one of the changing tents. “Never mind on the double date,” I whisper.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I still can’t feel my ass.”

Alden reaches down and massages both of my cheeks. “I can. It feels great.”

“You’re such a dork.”

He laughs and takes my hand. I love how he always wants to hold my hand. We’re on our way to the car when Breanna calls out and rushes to catch up with us. “Hey, Alden, I’m sorry to ask but do you think you could give me a ride?”

“Are you okay?” I ask before he can answer.

She nods and glances back at Oliver. “I’m fine. I just need a lift.”

“Sure,” Alden says. He hands me his truck keys. “Go ahead to the truck and get warm. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”

He makes a beeline for Oliver while we walk up to the truck. Breanna climbs in the back seat, and I crank the heat all the way up. Breanna shakes her head. “You got your hair wet. That has to be so much worse. I only went in up to my neck.”

“Alden didn’t give me much choice,” I laugh, holding my hands in front of one of the vents.

“Oliver wanted to get in and right back out. I don’t know why he even invited me if he hated the idea so much. Or why he came at all.”

“What’s his deal?” I ask, turning in my seat.

“He’s been in a mood all day. I don’t know what his problem is, but I’m tired of him treating me like shit. He was bitching about my swimsuit being too small and said it looked sloppy because my boobs spilled out the side a little.”

“What? There’s nothing wrong with your bikini top. You looked great.”

“Thank you! It took me a long time to get confident and happy with my body. I’m not letting anyone take that away. It felt like he was just picking at me to start an argument. After hours of that behavior today, that comment was the last straw.”

Alden gets into the truck and glances back at Breanna. “Are you still over on Holt Avenue?”

“Yes, thank you for this. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I wouldn’t want to ride with his ass either,” Alden replies, pulling out onto the street.

We don’t talk much on the ride to Breanna’s house. She thanks Alden again when she gets out, then disappears inside.

Once we pull away, Alden peeks over at me. I’ve finally stopped shivering, but it’s left me tired. “Do you still want to go out to dinner? Or we could order in at my place,” he suggests.

“Chinese?”

“Hell yes.”

“Sounds good. Wake me when we get there,” I tease, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Good idea. Get a nap. You need your rest. I’m going to have my cock in you all night.”

Another thing about Alden, he’s true to his word.

CHAPTER 9

The next month is amazing. Alden and I spend every evening together, either at my place or his. We’ve both been busy and our schedules can vary, but we make it work. Sometimes, he goes with me to photograph properties, and I spend lots of time at the garage with him and the guys.

The weather is cold and rainy, typical for March, but I barely notice. The sun may as well be shining directly on me considering how happy I am every day.

Alden meets me for lunch and the giddiness I feel when I see him is ridiculous. He slides into the diner booth across from me. “You got a haircut!” I exclaim.

“I did. You like?”

I reach over to rub the stubble on the sides of his head, then give the long locks on top a little tug. “It’s sexy. You’d better wear a hat so other women don’t see.”

“Pfft. Have you seen me in a hat? Pure sex.”

“Shut up,” I laugh.

The waitress stops by to take our order and once she walks away, Alden whips out a piece of paper. “I have great news.” He hands me the document and my heart jumps into my throat when I see DNA Analysis written at the top. “I told you the judge court ordered her to get the blood test. The results are in.” He grabs my wrist while I’m still scanning the lines, looking for the result. “It’s not mine, Ella. The baby is not mine.” Emotion cracks his voice.

The relief I feel must be nothing compared to his. I slip out of my seat and join him on his side where I can hug him. He holds me tight for a long moment. “I’m glad you don’t have to worry anymore.”

“My life is fucking perfect right now.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head.

The waitress serves our food, and we spend a few comfortable moments of silence while we eat.

“Oliver and Breanna broke up last night,” Alden says, snatching a fry from my plate.

“Oh no. What happened?”

“He didn’t want to talk about it, but my guess is she’s tired of his behavior.”

“Something’s up with him. Do you think he’s depressed?”

Alden shakes his head. “I think he’s drinking.”

Those words hold a lot of weight after their mother’s alcoholism. “Really? What makes you think so?”

“He’s come in the shop more than once smelling of stale booze. He’s not missing work or drunk during the day, but I think he’s tilting his arm every night. I’ve tried to talk to him. He isn’t hearing me.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No. If it keeps up, the guys and I will intervene on his ass. I’m not going to let him end up like Mom.” He smiles and it sends butterflies into my stomach. “Let’s not let it ruin our mood. It’s a good day. I’m not working this afternoon. What do you have on your schedule?”

“I have to retake photos at a commercial property. I guess they have a potential buyer who wants updated shots. I tried to tell them nothing will look much different, but they insisted.” It’s the property I shot last month that I thought would make a perfect photography studio. Apparently, someone else finally saw the potential in it. The recently lowered price probably didn’t hurt. “After that my afternoon is clear.”

“I’ll go with you,” he offers. “Then we can find something to do.”

“I’d love that. I can’t leave my car here, though. It’s parked at a meter.”

“No problem. I took an Uber. Hudson is changing the starter on my truck. You can drive.”

“Do you make that guy do all your truck maintenance and repairs?” I tease.

“That’s what lackeys are for, El. I pay him well.” He snatches another fry off my plate. “Are you ready to go?”

It must kill Alden to let me drive for a change because he fidgets in the passenger seat the entire drive over to the property. Sometimes he’s like a sugared up second grader. It’s cute.

I sling my camera bag over my shoulder, and he lays his hand on the small of my back while we walk up to the door. It’s covered in white paper, blocking the view from the street, same as the large shop windows. I’m not sure why the seller did that. It’s not like there’s anything to steal inside. I’m not going to get good photos without any natural light.

I’m considering whether to call the office and ask if I can take the paper down when Alden pulls out his keys and unlocks the door.

What?

I stand frozen, trying to figure out what’s going on. “Why do you have a key?”

Alden grins and pulls me inside. “Why shouldn’t the owner have a key?”

His words take a moment to sink in, but they still make no sense. “Owner? You don’t own…you’re the prospective buyer?”

He closes the door behind us once we’re inside. “Not prospective. I signed the final contract yesterday.” His grin stretches ear to ear. “I may have asked your boss to send you here so I could surprise you. She was happy to go along.”

At the sight of my confused expression, he puts his hands on my shoulders. “I bought it. Make it your studio and chase your dream, El.”

Is he insane? I take a step back. “You can’t. You can’t do this.”

“Don’t freak out. Let me explain.”

“Explain? I saw the price on this place, Den! How did you…you can’t just….” My words tumble over each other. “We’ve been together a month! You can’t spend that kind of money on me!”

He reaches out and cups my chin. Serious eyes look into mine, and his voice is as firm as I’ve ever heard it. “We’ve been together far longer than that. You’ve been mine since we were thirteen.”

His sweet words put a lump in my throat, but it doesn’t change anything. “I can’t accept this. I need to do it, Alden. I need to save the money, get a loan, earn this myself. Like you did. You can understand that, can’t you?”

My refusal doesn’t upset him. “I do understand. I know you well enough to know I couldn’t hand you the place, so I had these drawn up.” He walks over to a nearby shelf built into one of the walls, retrieves some papers, and hands them to me.

“It’s a lease,” I mumble, scanning the document. The rental amount leaps out at me, and I peek up at him, my eyebrow raised. “A dollar a month?”

“For two years. Let me help you get started, Ella. You’ll know it’s yours, legally, for two years. After that we can revisit, see how things are going. You can get your own mortgage and buy it from me if you want. But in the meantime, you’ll be able to do your thing. Get your business started.”

My mind whirls with the possibilities. “If I keep working with the real estate company, in two years, I’ll have a solid enough work history to apply for a mortgage. If I can make enough money here at the same time, a down payment would be possible.” I’m talking to myself more than him, but my words grow a smile on his face.

He slides his hand behind my neck, and I gaze up at him. The threatening tears spill over while I consider it. “I can’t believe you did this. How could you afford it? What if your business starts to struggle?” I can’t put his career at risk when he’s worked for it since he was a kid.

He smiles down at me and wipes a tear from my cheek. “Those bikes I build aren’t cheap. I’ve done well, plus there was the money from selling my mother’s house and my half of her life insurance. This isn’t going to disadvantage me.” He runs a hand over my hair. “You’ve been there for me every time I needed you, El. This time, let me leave the window unlocked for you.”

I never had a chance against this man. I grab him in a fierce hug, burying my face in his chest, and he wraps his arms around me tightly. It takes me a minute before I can speak without crying. “You’re insane.”

He chuckles and rubs his hand up and down my back. “Yeah, but you love me.”

Stepping back, I wipe my eyes. “I do, damn it.”

“I love you too. Let’s go check out your studio.”

It’s then I notice the walls are now painted a neutral white, and the drop ceiling has been torn out. “You’ve been working in here?”

“I had a few small things done to get it ready. I’m not some slumlord, you know. I couldn’t rent it out the way it was.”

“I have some savings I can use to finish remodeling and get some equipment. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Thank you so much.”

He leans down and plants a soft kiss on my lips. “I forgot to tell you the bad news. Since you have a spotty job history, I’m going to need the two years rent up front. So, give me my twenty-four dollars.”

“Will you take a twenty and I’ll owe you a blow job?”

“You can trade sex for rent? I have a lot to learn about being a landlord.”

“I’m so excited for you!” Tori squeals, helping me hang the last curtain in the loft area. “And I get to be your first client.”

“Of course you do. Paul is going to love them.”

Tori’s boyfriend’s birthday is coming and she’s giving him a boudoir photo of herself. I’m excited to get a little practice in this area before I have an actual customer.

It’s taken over three weeks to get the studio ready to open, but I’ve already booked two shoots with expecting mothers and another three with infants for the first week.

“Are you all set for your other customers?”

“I think so. I have a few more props being delivered this week for the babies—those cute little pea pods I showed you—but I have plenty of others to choose from.” I’ve also got some gorgeous maternity dresses and gowns for the women who don’t want to bring their own.

“Those are adorable! Okay, I’m going to change.”

“Go get sexy, bitch!”

Tori laughs and disappears into the changing area where she’s left the lingerie she brought with her.

The loft turned out to be the perfect area for this, like I pictured. It’s furnished with a bed, couch, and chaise lounge. We can switch up the colors of the curtains, sheets, pillows and throws to the customer’s preference. The ambience is perfect. Soft, sensual, and private. I want women who come here to feel safe and comfortable being themselves.

Tori has no problem strutting her stuff. She’s a perfect client to begin with. The bell I’ve placed on the door downstairs dings, and I peek out of the loft, though I know it must be Alden. The door was locked and he’s the only other person with a key.

“I’ll be right back!” I call to Tori and rush downstairs.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you already. I’m about to do a session.”

Alden grins and glances around. “I thought you weren’t taking any appointments until tomorrow.”

Tori calls from the loft. “She’s mine for the next hour, bike boy! She’s making me look hot. Go away!”

Alden laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, I was stopping by to tell you I’m going to go over to Oliver’s. It’s time to straighten him out. He showed up to work drunk today.”

“Oh no. Do you want me to go?”

“He might listen to you. A woman’s perspective.” He shrugs.

“I’ll be done here in an hour. Can I meet you?”

He leans over and presses a kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you at his apartment in an hour. Don’t go in without me.”

“I won’t,” I promise. He leaves, and I lock the door behind him before going back upstairs.

“Oliver’s not doing well?” Tori asks. I should’ve known she’d overhear.

I move around, adjusting the lights. “It doesn’t sound like it. Alden can handle him. You need to focus on giving that sultry look that’ll have Paul eating out of your hand.”

“I’d rather have him eating out something else.”

Tori and I have a great time. She’s confident and rocks every pose I put her in. The hour flies by while I take about four times the number of pictures than are necessary.

When I show her the digital images, she covers her mouth. “I’m a goddamn smoke show! Oh my god! How do you do this when my selfies always look like I’m hiding a zombie bite?”

Laughing, I start straightening up the area we used. “That’s because you’re all tense and trying to get a certain expression when you take them. You were relaxed this time, having fun, and the real you shone through.”

“If you make all the women look like this, you’re going to be a billionaire.”

Happiness floods through me. “I’m glad you like them.”

“I love them. I can’t wait to give it to Paul. He might propose.” She steps back into the changing area to change out of the lingerie.

“I’m sorry I have to catch up to Alden, but we can look through them tomorrow and pick what you want in print, okay?”

She steps out, putting her hair up. “Sure. Do you want me to go with you to Oliver’s?”

After considering it for a minute, I shake my head. “No, I don’t think we want it to seem like we’re having a full on intervention with all his friends, you know? Let his brother try first.”

“Well, let me know if it gets to that. I know Oliver and I haven’t been that close since we were kids, but I’m still here if he needs me.”

“You’re the best.”

Oliver has friends who care about him and that’s what he needs to realize. I think about it on my way over to his apartment. Getting the studio ready on top of working my real estate job has been a juggling act that’s kept me preoccupied these last weeks. But not too distracted to notice how unhappy Oliver is. Trying to talk with him gets me nothing but curt replies. I’m not optimistic about how he’ll react to us now.

Alden’s truck sits in the parking lot beside Oliver’s car. He must already be inside. I park and walk toward the corner apartment. The door bursts open when I reach to knock and Alden stalks through it. That’s not a good sign.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

Alden sits on the step and runs his hands through his hair. “He won’t listen to a fucking thing I say. His apartment is a pigsty. I needed to walk away for a second before I pop him in his mouth.”

“Is he drunk now?”

Alden shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Alden and Oliver butt heads a lot over one thing or another. Maybe he isn’t the best person to confront him about his drinking. “Stay out here and let me try to talk to him, okay?”

“Good luck. Stubborn fucker.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.”

Alden sits outside while I enter. Oliver stands in the doorway that separates the living room from the kitchen, his arms crossed, leaning against a wall. “Yeah, don’t bother to knock. Just come on in,” he says, glaring at me.

“Would you have let me in if I knocked?”

“No.”

“And that’s why I didn’t knock.” Wow, Alden wasn’t kidding. This place is a mess. Very unlike Oliver. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine. As you can see. You’ve done your duty. You can go.”

I walk through his living room, dodging the food wrappers, empty drink containers, and other random clutter. He watches me with caution when I mimic his defensive stance, crossing my arms and leaning on the wall beside him. “Is that what you think I should do? Hmm? Is that your professional opinion on how to handle things when one of your friends is struggling?” He wants to be sarcastic? I can meet him there.

“I’m not struggling. Despite what Alden told you.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Alden.”

“Sure it does,” he says bitterly. “He wants me to stop drinking. God forbid Alden doesn’t get what he wants.”

Pain lives in his voice no matter how much he’s trying to disguise it with anger. “What do you want, Oliver?” I gesture around the room. “You want me to leave, for us to act like everything is okay? Let you continue this downward spiral?”

“I can’t have what I want, and what the fuck do you care, Ella?” he snaps, and starts to walk away.

Instinct dictates my next move, not thought. I grab him in a hug. He stiffens and starts to take a step back. My arms tighten around him, and I can feel how thin he’s gotten over the last few weeks. My cheek is pressed against his chest. “I care, Oliver. Of course I do. I can’t stand to see you so miserable.”

After a long hesitation, he sighs and puts an arm around me. He runs his hand over my head silently.

“You can talk to me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, maybe I can help.”

Regret reflects on his face when he looks down at me and shakes his head. “You can’t help. You don’t understand.”

He lets me go and walks over to perch on the edge of the couch. Picking up a half burned joint from the coffee table, he lights it and takes a puff.

“You aren’t giving me a chance to understand.”

He watches me while I take a seat beside him. “Nothing happened. It’s not anything in particular. It’s….” He pauses to take another puff. “I’m never good enough, Ella.” A bitter laugh follows. “Always the spare. Nothing changes.”

His eyebrow raises when I take his hand. “You aren’t a spare anything. You have people who love the fuck out of you, Oliver. Your brother, the guys at your garage, your friends, including me. You have a successful business and—”

“That’s Alden’s business. Not mine. I just work there.”

“Bullshit.”

Both of our heads jerk up at the sound of Alden’s voice. He loiters in the front doorway. “It’s Stokes Brothers for a reason. Look how much more profitable that place is since you took over the books and ordering and shit. We were a fucking mess before. I need you there. If that’s what this is about, me owning the majority, we can fix that. We can draw up the paperwork this week. I can do that. What I can’t do is watch you take this path.” Alden’s voice cracks. "Christ, Ollie, look around. You can’t do what she did.”

Maybe it was the mention of his mother, or the use of a nickname I haven’t heard him use since they were in elementary school, but Oliver’s eyes tear up. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I’m angry all the time.”

“Booze isn’t the answer,” Alden says, and gestures to the joint in his hand. “Neither is that. Drinking, weed, we use that shit to have fun sometimes, not to cope. We made a deal, remember?”

Oliver puts the joint out and sets it on the table.

I squeeze his hand. “If you don’t know what’s bothering you, maybe it’d be a good idea to talk to a therapist. It could be depression. Something that you don’t have control over.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. I need to quit fucking things up. Like I did with Breanna.”

“She loves you,” I tell him. “I’ve talked to her. She’s heartbroken, but no one deserves to be your whipping boy when you’re upset. You have to find a better way to cope. If not on your own, then see someone who can help. I went to therapy my first year of college. It really helped me.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Alden walks over, and I give up my place on the couch to him. He looks at his brother. “In the meantime, dry the fuck out. I’ve been there. You don’t know how you feel until you leave the booze alone for a few weeks.”

Oliver nods and sadness flows over me at the whole situation. I can’t walk out of here and leave him in this mess, buried in whatever is going on in his head.

“Alright. Now that we’re all friends again, get up and take a shower. Wear something that makes you feel good. We’re all going out, and not to a bar,” I order.

Oliver looks over at Alden who holds his palms out toward him. “You argue with her at your own risk. I know better.”

“Chickenshit.”

“Asshole.”

Oliver grins and it’s good to hear a lightness in his voice. “Your girlfriend said she loves me.”

“Don’t make me hit you. Your hair looks greasy.”

Oliver chuckles and stands up. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

Once he disappears into the bathroom, Alden turns to me. “In here holding my brother’s hand and telling him you love him. How am I supposed to recover from this?”

“Blowjob tonight?”

“Yeah, that’ll cover it.” He wraps me in a hug. “Thank you for getting through to him.”

“That remains to be seen. Let’s pick up some of this mess while he’s getting ready.”

“Did you have somewhere in mind to go?”

I gather up two half filled whiskey bottles to take to the kitchen and dump. “There’s a new place downtown with virtual reality games. It sounds fun. We could get some street tacos and walk around afterward. I don’t think it matters what we do. He needs to get out of his head and out of the house.”

Alden gazes at me. “You never told me you went to therapy. Is that what they taught you? To get out of your head?”

There’s no judgment in his statement or question, only curiosity. “They taught me to distract myself and find new things to do so I could stop obsessing over my heartbreak and work through it. Let’s hope it works for him.”

Our night out with Oliver turns out to be a ton of fun for all of us. I’m not big on video games, but the virtual reality place surprises me. I have a great time playing games, walking through magical forests and fighting off a unicorn. My sides hurt from laughing at Alden and Oliver when they play together. They both end up on the floor after jumping around to make it through some sort of obstacle only they could see. By the end of the night, Oliver is in a much better mood.

He pulls me aside and asks me if I think he should text Breanna.

“You want her back? Get your shit together, show her you aren’t drinking, and apologize for how you treated her. Be honest with her about how you’re feeling. I know you think no one understands, but at least give her a chance to try.”

Over the next few weeks, Oliver follows my advice. Alden fills me in on him often, and I know he’s proud of the way he’s turning things around. He’s sober, working hard, and back with Breanna.

Better than all that, he seems to be happy.

CHAPTER 10

“You miss him already,” Tori accuses, throwing a piece of popcorn at me. “You’re hopeless.”

“Uh-huh, like you don’t spend all your time with Paul. What time is he coming over tonight?”

“He gets off work at ten.” She grins over at me.

“We’re both hopeless.” Happy is what we are.

It’s been two years. Two years of days spent growing my photography business, and nights and weekends spent falling hopelessly irretrievably in love with Alden Stokes.

Sometimes, it’s almost scary how wonderful things are going. I have more clients than I can handle, and I’m always booked out months ahead of time. Just last week, I was able to quit working for the real estate company. Soon, I’ll make arrangements to pay Alden back for the building, no matter how much he balks at the idea.

Alden and Oliver’s business is booming as well. True to his promise, once Alden saw Oliver had gotten his drinking under control, he made sure they both owned an equal piece of Stokes Brothers Custom Cycles. They’ve had their disagreements and squabbles but it’s obvious they adore working together. Every now and then I think how proud their mom would be of the way they ended up. Especially Alden, since it seemed prison was a possible future for him when he was young.

“When is Alden due back?”

“Tomorrow. I told him I’d come by after work.” Alden has been gone for two days with Smith, one the guys on his work crew. There was a big expo a couple of states away and they went to meet with some vendors. It’s the longest we’ve been apart since we got together, and I miss the hell out of him.

Tori lounges on the couch, eating popcorn, with a movie playing on the tv that neither of us has looked at twice. “I need to tell you something.” She glances over at me. “Paul asked me to move in with him. I said yes.”

“That’s great! Congratulations.”

She beams and sits up, setting her bowl aside. “I’m excited but I’ll miss living with you.”

“Me too. He doesn’t live far, does he?”

“Nope, down near the racetrack.”

I move from my chair to the couch to give her a hug. “Just make sure the bed is big enough for three because I’m coming to visit all the time.”

Laughing, she hugs me back. “The lease is up here in a few months. You’ll have to decide whether to take it over or move.”

Right. I forgot it was in her name. I can afford the rent alone if I need to so that isn’t a concern, but maybe it’s time for Alden and I to take the next step too. Would he want to move in with me and give up his place above the shop? We stay every night together, alternating between his place and mine, and have for the past two years. I’m absolutely ready to live together.

“Are you okay?” Tori asks.

“I’m good. I was thinking. I want to ask Alden to move in with me.”

She tilts her head. “You don’t sound thrilled at the prospect.”

“I’m not sure what he’ll say.”

“Psh. That man worships you. He’d live in a portable toilet on festival grounds if you asked him to.”

“Gross!” I shove her, and we laugh. “I’ll ask him when he gets back.”

It’s all I can think about when I go to bed. Living with Alden. I’m sure I’m romanticizing it in my head some, but I can’t help it. Alden is everything to me. I’ve never felt like this for anyone else and I don’t think I ever could.

He loves me in ways other men lack. He’s always there when I need him, when I have a bad day or just need help with something. He cooks dinner for me often and the happy blush he gets when I compliment his food is adorable. He takes me out on romantic dates.

More than anything though, we have fun. We enjoy being together so much that it doesn’t matter what we’re doing, we can make it fun. He had me laughing until I thought I might pee myself while we were waiting in line at the post office, then laughed so loud everyone looked when I had to rush away to find a bathroom.

Odd as it sounds, that’s love. Those everyday moments that make you realize you’d never want to do any of these mundane things with anyone else. Whether the experiences are silly or hard, weird or sad, nothing would be the same without them there.

Somebody help me, I’ve fallen too far.

I peek at my phone to make sure I don’t have a text before turning over to try to sleep. My last text was Alden telling me good night over two hours ago. I’ve finally started to doze off when I hear a thump.

Tori and Paul must be going at it. I reach for my earbuds on my nightstand and nearly jump out of my skin when my gaze reaches across to the window.

A figure moves, outlined in moonlight. All I can see is a human shaped shadow. Alden is out of town. Besides, there’s no trellis to climb out there. There’s a tree but it’s not close enough by a long shot. I must be mistaken. It’s probably a shadow from the tree leaves.

It moves again and I hear, “Well, fuck. Ella, can you open up?”

What the hell is Alden doing? This window is rarely open because it gets caught and it’s a pain to open or close. Guess I forgot to mention that to him, but he hasn’t had to crawl in my window since my parents’ house.

“What are you doing?” I laugh, helping him shove the window up.

“Well, I almost plunged to my death but that’s not why I’m here.”

He clambers inside and my heart beats faster, the same way it has since he crawled in when I was thirteen.

I start toward him with the intention of kissing the hell out of him, but I stop short. He stands in front of me in a dark suit and tie. His slight grin is brushed with anxiety. “I thought and thought about it. I couldn’t imagine any more fitting way to do this but the same way we started.”

He bends down on one knee and holds up an opened ring box. “Ella, if I’ve ever done anything right in my life, it was climbing in your window to kiss you. I love you and you’re the only woman I ever want to love. Will you be my wife?”

Words stick in my throat. Not an ounce of me expected this. He looks up at me with a mixture of adoration and expectation.

My brain finally leaps back into gear. “Yes,” I practically shout. He gets to his feet in time for me to tackle him and nearly knock him back to the floor. “Yes, yes, yes.” I slam my lips to his and he grabs my jaw with one hand while he kisses me back.

Grinning, he pulls back. “So, that’s a yes?”

Tears run down my face while I nod with a giggle. He plucks the ring out of the box and slides it on my finger.

“It’s beautiful,” I choke out. It is, but it could’ve been made of candy for all I’d care. All I want is Alden, and he wants me. For the rest of our lives.

Alden kisses me again before calling out, “She said yes!”

My bedroom door pops open. Tori rushes over to hug me with a squeal while Paul lingers in the doorway, a bottle of champagne in his hands.

“You knew!” I accuse Tori.

“It’s killed me for the last two days!”

Alden grins and nods at Paul. “Thanks for bringing the ladder.”

“Anytime.”

“I can’t believe you were all in on this.” A realization strikes me, and I point at Tori. “And you let me go on about asking him to move in with me.”

Tori cracks up and looks at Alden. “She was worried over whether you’d say no. Like legitimately concerned.” She takes Paul’s hand, and they start for the door. “We’ll meet you downstairs for a glass of champagne.”

As soon as they’re gone, Alden pulls me into his arms. “You were going to ask me to move in?”

“Yes. I spent the last few hours tossing and turning and agonizing over it.” It seems ridiculous now.

“You never have to doubt whether I want more time with you. The answer is always yes. All I ever want with you is more. I want everything. Every good morning kiss and every night in bed. And everything in between.”

“I love you.” They’re the only words I can manage while he holds me.

A sharp knock at the door downstairs breaks the moment.

Frowning, I glance at the clock. It’s after one a.m. “Who the hell?”

We both head downstairs to find the front door open. Tori and Paul stand there talking to a police officer.

Tori looks back at me and gestures for us to join them. “This is the culprit. He didn’t break in, but he is stealing my best friend. Can you charge him for that?”

The officer who smiles at me is a young woman not too much older than me. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you?” Confused, I look at Tori.

“Someone called about a burglar sneaking in your window.”

Laughing, I link my arm around Alden’s. “He’d be a terrible burglar. The window got caught and I had to help him. Sorry for the false alarm.”

She chuckles and steps outside, calling back to us. “Not a problem. Have a good night.”

It’s the best night. After a celebratory drink with my friends, they go to bed while Alden and I sit up until dawn, cuddling and making plans for our future.

It’s one of the happiest moments of my life.

CHAPTER 11

Something is up when I pull into Stokes Brothers to meet Alden for lunch. Milo, Hudson, and Oliver are gathered out in front of the shop, along with a few people I don’t recognize. Customers presumably.

“What’s going on?” I ask, looking for Alden.

Hudson pipes up. “We had to evacuate.”

“Was there a fire?” My alarm is growing. “Where’s Alden?” His bike is parked nearby, and he knew I was coming. I just talked to him a few minutes ago.

“He’s inside with Smith trying to kill a bat in the office,” Oliver says.

A shriek comes spilling out of the garage, followed by laughter. “I don’t think he’s winning,” Hudson chuckles.

“Well, go help him!” I exclaim, looking at Milo, then the other guys.

“No way,” Hudson says. “Creepy sky monsters.”

My lips press together when I turn my attention to Milo. “I’m allergic to bats,” he says.

“You’re full of shit!” Oliver says. “You’re scared like the rest of us.”

Hudson reaches over and flaps his hands. “Hey Milo, imagine if it got caught it your beard.”

Milo shudders, and I roll my eyes. Never let anyone convince you the big burly guys aren’t teddy bears. I’m going inside to see if they’ve caught it.

As soon as I step through the raised garage door, a black streak darts above my head and out into the sky. Alden and Smith run out behind it. Smith wields a broom over his head and Alden carries a…plunger?

“It flew out.” They’re the only words I manage before my entire body is shaking with laughter.

Smith lowers the broom slowly.

“A plunger,” I squeak, fighting for breath. “Why…why.” Laughter prevents me from continuing. Another peek at him and the way he holds it like a baseball bat has my sides aching and my lungs begging for air.

A slow grin emerges on Alden’s lips as he sets the plunger down and watches me laugh at him. He stands there and nods, waiting. The other guys start to filter in now that it’s safe.

“Hey, we grabbed what was handy,” Smith says.

Once I catch my breath a little, Alden walks up and grins down at me. “Are you going to survive?”

“Barely,” I giggle.

“What are you assholes laughing at?” he demands. “You ran out of here like your dicks were on fire.” He slaps Smith on the shoulder. “We know who the real men of this shop are now.”

My laughter dies when I see a spot of blood on Alden’s wrist. I grab his arm. “Did it bite you or did you hurt yourself on something chasing it?”

“It bit me,” he confesses. “I’m going to have to go to the doctor.”

“Now!” I stress. “We need to go to the doctor now.” Three tiny pinpricks of blood well on his skin.

Milo hands him a stack of napkins to hold over the bite. “She’s right. You need a rabies shot asap.”

“I’m taking you to the emergency room.” I look over at Smith. “Did it get you too?”

Smith shakes his head. “No, it never touched me.”

“You didn’t try to unclog it,” Hudson snickers.

“Go on and get it taken care of,” Oliver says. “I’ll stay until closing tonight.”

So instead of a nice lunch at the taco place, we end up in the emergency room. “Have I told you that you’re never boring?” I ask Alden, while we wait for the nurse to return with the multiple injections he needs.

“Maybe I’ll turn into one of those sexy vampires from TV.”

“You want to sparkle?”

“God no, I’m pretty enough.”

The nurse returns and administers two shots in his arm, a tetanus and rabies vaccine. They also give him a shot of something called immune globulin right near the bite mark. He’s cautioned that he has to get another rabies shot in three days, five days, and fourteen days to be sure he’s properly protected. The nurse gives him the paperwork he needs to report to their outpatient clinic on those days.

Once they’ve cleaned the bite and applied a small bandage, we’re on our way. “Does it hurt? We can reschedule our plans to go to my parents’ place tonight. They’ll understand.”

“No, I’m fine. Are you late for a client?”

“I rescheduled. My afternoon is free. Do you want to go back to the shop?”

He slings an arm around my shoulder and snatches my keys from my hand. “Nope, I promised you tacos. Then we have a whole afternoon for me to fuck you into oblivion. That’s your punishment for laughing at me. I’m driving.”

“You know that’s not a punishment, right?” I laugh, climbing into my passenger seat.

“See if you feel that way when you can’t walk later.”

“Are you sure your dad doesn’t plan to bury me in the backyard?” Alden asks, as he parks in my parents’ driveway.

“Don’t be silly. Would he have invited Oliver and Breanna as witnesses?”

“Good point, but you’re tasting my drink for me just in case.”

“They wouldn’t poison you. Dad has a perfectly good gun in his safe.”

Alden slings his arm around my shoulders while we walk to the door. The ache between my legs is a reminder of the “punishment” he followed through with earlier, but I’m not complaining. “You always know how to set my mind at ease, babe.”

Mom called yesterday to invite us over tonight to celebrate our engagement. “My parents love you. You know that.”

“Of course they do. Who wouldn’t?”

Garrett opens the door when I knock, and I tackle him in a hug before he knows what hit him. He laughs and squeezes me back. “Mom didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“I’m in town for a few days.”

Garrett and Alden do that half hug slap on the back thing guys seem to favor. “You’re a brave man, marrying my sister. Don’t you remember when she tied you to the fence out back?”

“Hey! I was ten! And he let my jar of lightning bugs go after I spent hours catching them!”

“Not this again,” Mom says when we enter the living room. Oliver, Breanna, Mom and Dad are seated around the living room, drinks in hand.

“Mom! Pops!” Alden exclaims. “How are you?”

Both of them crack up laughing. It’s a sudden change from Mrs. and Mr. Stokes but neither seem displeased.

“Doing great, sport,” Dad teases. “Are you staying out of trouble?”

“Of course.”

“What’s that bandage on your wrist?”

“Ella bit me when I tried to steal her fries.”

Everyone laughs while I smack him on his uninjured arm. “He brought a plunger to a bat fight.”

Dad grins and nods to Oliver. “He already filled us in. Just wanted to hear him say it.”

Oliver gives me a small smile. He looks like he’s a couple of drinks in already. “Congrats, Ella. Future sister-in-law.”

“What about me?” Alden asks while we grab a drink and take a seat.

“You just got lucky.”

Alden beams at me. “Damn right I did.”

Breanna regards me. “Have you set a date yet?”

“Not yet. We want to live together for a while first.”

Alden points at me. “You want to live together first. I’m ready to fly to Vegas tonight.”

“My baby is not having a Vegas wedding. We need time to plan,” Mom says.

The wedding talk leads to me, Breanna, and Mom going over ideas and searching websites in the kitchen while the guys do their own thing in the garage. Which involves weed judging by the smell.

“Neither of us wants a church. I was thinking of the arboretum.”

“Oh, that would be a beautiful spot,” Breanna says. She grins at me. “I can’t believe you’re marrying Alden. Remember when he brought you to Poke Creek and pissed you off? You spent the night hanging out with Leo.”

“Want to know what I remember best from that night?” Alden interrupts, stepping into the room with Garrett.

“Sure, by all means, tell my mom what your favorite part was,” I dare him. There are multiple moments from that night that I’ll never forget. Stripping naked in front of Alden, walking home in the rain with him, the smashed coins that we both held onto. I wonder if he still has his.

Mom looks up at him while his mouth opens and closes like a fish. “You know, I forgot.”

Mom shakes her head and glances over at Garrett. “Where’s your dad?”

“In the living room watching for the pizza delivery.”

“Come on, we have some news for you guys too. And your dad got you an engagement gift.”

We all move to the living room again. Alden pulls me into his lap when I start to sit beside him. “Are you certain you want to wait?” he murmurs in my ear.

“It’s not because I’m not sure. It’ll give us time to find a house, plan the wedding, get organized.”

“Okay, but I’m going to go ahead and consider you my wife from now on so deal with it.”

I could not love this man more. I lean to put my lips to his ear. “I’m sucking you so good when we get home.”

His gaze rolls over me slowly. He tightens his hand on my leg. “I’m hard in your parents’ living room. Thanks for that.”

Oliver looks over at us when I laugh. His smile is forced and brief. He doesn’t look like he’s having a good time. Maybe he and Breanna had an argument or something.

“You said you have news?” Garrett says.

Mom perches on the arm of Dad’s recliner, and he smiles up at her. “We’re retiring,” she says.

“In Florida,” Dad adds.

It’s definitely not something I expected to hear. “You’re moving to Florida?”

Mom nods. “We’ve hired a realtor and put in an offer on a house yesterday.”

“You’ve never mentioned moving to Florida before,” Garrett points out.

Dad rubs Mom’s back. I hope Alden and I are like them, still affectionate after twenty-five years. “You can blame Ella,” Dad says, tossing a grin at me. “All those trips down there to visit her in college. We like it. Your mom wants to be somewhere warm and close to a beach. I want to relax and go fishing all year round.”

I stand up and cross the room to hug Mom. “I’m happy for you, but I’ll miss you.”

“We’ll talk every day. We have a wedding to plan.”

“What about me?” Dad teases.

“Do you want to talk about the wedding every day?” I ask.

“Well, that seems a bit excessive.”

I lean down to hug him. “You deserve to retire and be happy. I hope you love it there.”

After they accept congratulations from all around, Garret asks, “Are you selling the house then?”

“Yes, we had it appraised and the realtor plans to list it this week. You’ll have time to get the stuff you might want from your rooms.”

My room will be gone. Maybe that shouldn’t bother me as an adult. It’s not like they were going to keep it as a shrine to my childhood, but the thought is sad.

“Speaking of keepsakes.” Dad gets to his feet. “I want to be the first to give you an engagement gift.”

He walks out of the room. The absolute giddiness of Mom’s demeanor tells me he’s up to something. It doesn’t escape Alden’s attention either.

He fake whispers loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “This is where he comes back with a gun and a shovel because I stole his daughter, isn’t it?”

“Before moving out of state would be an opportune time to bury a body in the yard,” Garrett says.

It’s not either of those things, but whatever he’s carrying is large and draped in a sheet. Alden gets up when Dad approaches him and holds the gift out.

“You didn’t have to get us anything,” I say, while Alden removes the sheet.

My mouth falls open. Alden cracks up, understanding immediately even before Dad speaks up.

“I took it down since it was broken. Probably because someone got too heavy and still tried to climb his grown ass up it.” He beams as only a Dad getting one over on his kids can.

Alden stands there holding a section of the trellis that used to lead to my bedroom window while Dad continues, “But I thought you two might like to take it to your new place.”

As everyone catches on, laughter fills the room.

“You knew?” I exclaim. Mom and Dad are nearly in tears laughing at our shock. We never got caught, not once in all those years. We thought we got away with it.

“Of course we knew,” Mom says.

Dad squeezes my shoulder and smiles ear to ear. “You thought you could put one over on your old man? I’m too perceptive. It comes with being a psychiatrist.”

“Why did you never say anything?” I ask Mom.

She shrugs and sips her drink. “You were seventeen and on birth control. There’s no stopping teens from having sex.”

Alden props the trellis against the end of the couch. “We were not having sex when she was seventeen. We never did anything under your roof,” he swears.

Our eyes meet, and we share identical grins before I add, “But your excellent perception skills kicked in about four years late.”

It’s Mom and Dad’s turn to be shocked while the rest of us laugh.

“When you were thirteen!” Mom cries.

“It was innocent!”

Dad looks over at Alden and shakes his head. “Now I do have to kill you.”

Alden nods, chuckling. “Completely understandable.”

Dad regards me, biting back a smile. “I told your mom when you were ten those Stokes boys were going to be trouble.”

The rest of the evening is a lot of fun. We eat and drink, reminisce about some of the things that happened when Garrett and I were kids. I love how Alden fits right into my family. When everyone is occupied, Alden grabs my hand and pulls me upstairs to my old room.

“I’m not blowing you here,” I laugh, as he closes the door behind us.

“What a great idea, but that’s not what I wanted. I want to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“What if we bought this house from your parents?”

His suggestion catches me off guard. “You want to live here?”

He shrugs and sits beside me on the edge of the bed. “It’s close to our jobs. We both grew up here. How cool would it be if our kids grew up here too?”

I consider it for a moment, and he says, “If you’d rather not, it’s okay.”

“It’s not that. I’m surprised is all. You and Oliver sold your mom’s place. I didn’t think you’d want to live across the street. I thought maybe the memories were too much.”

His smile is soft. “I don’t have many good memories in that house, but the best ones I have are in this one. In this room.”

It would be amazing to raise our family here, where we have history. The neighborhood is still a good one, with a low crime rate and good school district. I can see Alden fixing up the treehouse for our kids, letting them have the run of the street the way we used to.

“You don’t need to decide right now. It was just an idea. We can talk about it later,” he says.

“I think it’s a fantastic idea. Let’s go talk to them. See what the appraiser said and what they set the asking price at.” We’ve already been approved for a mortgage together. That’s one hurdle out of the way.

Alden grabs my chin and presses his lips to mine in a fierce kiss. “I can’t wait to fuck you in this room. To make up for all those nights I was dying to and couldn’t.”

“I want you tonight. Let’s talk to them about the house then get out of here.”

He stands up, takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. When we step out into the hall, I let go of him. “I have to pee. I’ll be down in a second.”

He drops a kiss on my temple and bounds down the stairs. I hear Mom exclaim. “You all still come down those stairs like a herd of wildebeests.”

Will I say that to our kids someday? A little version of Alden stomping down the stairs is a beautiful thing to picture.

My mind hums while I use the bathroom and wash my hands. It’s been an eventful week. I’m engaged, and now we may end up buying my childhood home. It strikes me how well things are going. I have my own business that’s thriving, and so does Alden. I have friends and a sense of security. The man I’ve loved most of my life is going to be my husband. He’s also hot as hell and is going to fuck my brains out when we get home.

Life is good.

The hallway is dim, and I almost run into Oliver before I see him standing outside the door. “You scared me!” I breathe, and he chuckles.

He puts his arm around me in a hug. The smell of whiskey is thick around him. The sway of his body when he holds onto me—a bit too long now—gives away how drunk he is.

“Congratulations Ella. Alden is a lucky fucker.”

“Thank you.”

He lets go when I pull back, but stays standing in my path, staring at me. “I always thought we’d have a chance eventually. Once you saw Alden was trouble. Especially once that chick got pregnant.”

I take a big step back, putting space between us. “He didn’t get her pregnant. It wasn’t his. And we’ve only ever been friends.”

He nods, leaning against the wall on one palm. “We could’ve been more. I would’ve been good to you.”

“Oliver, you’re drunk, and emotions are high tonight. You don’t mean any of this. Breanna is right downstairs.”

“She isn’t you. Not nearly as good as you.” He leans over and whiskey scented breath hits my face with his words. “I love you too, you know.”

With that, he turns and walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I’m stunned and need a minute to process what he said, but I don’t want to be here when he comes out. Instead, I retreat downstairs to find Alden.

“Took you long enough,” he says, smacking my ass playfully. “You want to ask them?”

Yes. Yes, more than anything, I want to focus on the future we’re building. Oliver shocked me. He hasn’t hit on me or done anything to show he was still interested since he asked me out in high school, and I turned him down. I thought all of that was long past, brushed off as a teenage crush.

He loves me? That’s drunk talk, right?

Oliver is a sweet, quiet guy, but there’s never been anything between us. The only love I have for him is as a friend, and as Alden’s family. There’s no point in telling Alden about it. The last thing I want to do is drive a wedge between him and his brother.

I’m going to write it off as a drunk mistake and I’m sure he’ll regret saying anything, if he even remembers.

Mom and Dad are thrilled with our suggestion, and the asking price they had given the realtor is within our budget. They promise to get her on the phone tomorrow, to keep the house from being listed publicly.

In a few months, it should be ours. Everything is happening so fast it makes my head spin, but I couldn’t be happier about the way things are falling together.

Alden and I are going to be married and raise our kids in the same place where we fell in love.

It’s perfect.

Moving day gifts us with warm, sunny weather. A gentle breeze brushes me through the window, and I yawn while I unpack then start sorting our kitchen stuff. Oliver, Milo and Smith were at our place at dawn to help us with the furniture. It’s been a long day, but there’s still so much to do.

Alden sticks his head in the door. “Take a break, El. The food is here.”

“You ordered food?”

“Oliver ran to get takeout from some Italian place.”

My body aches when I stand up. “Ugh, I’m going to need a hot bath tonight.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Right after we break in your old bedroom.” He bounces his eyebrows up and down, making me laugh. I’d be willing to bet that waits until tomorrow. We’re both going to be dead on our feet by bedtime.

Alden has distributed paper plates and plastic utensils around the dining table. Oliver unpacks the large cartons of food, and I grab everyone a bottle of water. We serve ourselves pasta and garlic bread, then sit down to eat.

Oliver has been in a good mood all day while he helped, but he’s quiet while we eat. I assume he’s tired until he sits back and looks at Alden. “I need to tell you something that’s going to piss you off.”

Oh no.

Alden wipes his mouth on his napkin. His voice is even when he asks. “Are you drinking too much?” It’s a fair question after our prior intervention a couple of years ago. I’ve only seen Oliver drunk once since then, at the engagement party, but I know he drinks socially.

“No, it’s about Dad.”

Oliver has started talking more to their father over the last year. Alden isn’t thrilled about it, but he’s stayed silent, and Oliver has done the same. He never brings up their father around Alden and there’s a tentative unspoken understanding that Alden won’t interfere but won’t be involved.

“I’m listening,” Alden says.

“I’m taking him on a trip. To Costa Rica. We leave in two weeks.”

Alden blinks at him. The only thing he knows about his father is that he’s nearly destitute. Oliver is clearly funding this.

The silence in the room weighs heavily on all of us while Alden stares at Oliver. “Why are you telling me?”

“Because I was hoping you’d go with us. He’s dying. Stomach cancer. I don’t want to leave things the way they are with him. His wife moved to Costa Rica when she left him. I’m taking him there to say goodbye. Then we’ll spend a couple of weeks together.”

Alden’s jaw tightens. “You think he deserves that?”

“It’s not about what he deserves. It’s about burying the past and moving on. I understand if you don’t want to, but I promised I’d tell you and ask you to come. He said you have him blocked from calling you.”

Alden nods, and his lips press together. I can feel his effort to weigh his words, the way he always does when the subject of his father comes up with Oliver. “What does Breanna think? Is she going with you?”

“We broke up. She moved out last week.”

Alden’s hands thump on the table as he drops his arms and leans forward. “Last week? And you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t want to worry you while you were moving and shit. Because I’m fine. I left her. I’m not drinking or wallowing in it. Things just didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry, Oliver,” I tell him, and he gives me a quick smile.

Alden nods and some of his anger drains away. “What happened?”

“I don’t love her. Not like she wants me to. I tried, but it isn’t there for me anymore, if it ever was. I think this trip will be good for me too. To get away.” Oliver sighs and runs his hands through his hair, like his brother often does. “I’m sorry to dump this on you now. I probably should’ve waited.” He gets to his feet. “We can talk about it later.”

Oliver pauses by the doorway when Alden calls his name. “How long does he have?”

“A year, maybe. But he won’t be healthy enough to travel for that long so we want to go now.” After a moment of hesitation, he adds, “He was also hoping you guys could talk, that maybe he could attend your wedding. Whatever you decide to do, there’s no hard feelings from me, Den. Okay?”

Alden nods and gets up to hug his brother. “I’m sorry about you and Breanna. Thanks for the help today. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I won’t be in the shop tomorrow. I want to go to his oncologist appointment to see what I need to know if he gets sick on the trip.”

“No problem. I can do the bank drop.”

Alden is quiet for a while after Oliver leaves. I clean up from dinner, giving him a few minutes to process things.

His dad is dying. Despite how Alden feels about him, I know that hurts. Oliver has good intentions trying to include Alden, but I don’t see it being a great idea. Their father leaving the way he did affected them in different ways. Alden’s abandonment issues aren’t hard to see. Look how long it took him to commit to our relationship, all because he kept waiting for the circumstances to be perfect. He wanted there to be no obstacles, no chance we’d ever be torn apart again. No chance he’d get left behind and hurt again. He’s come a long way since then.

Oliver needs to forgive his father and get that closure, but Alden’s outlook isn’t wrong. He doesn’t owe his father anything. He owes it to himself to do whatever gives him peace.

Alden slips an arm around my waist from behind while I stand at the kitchen counter. He rests his chin on my shoulder.

I reach back and brush my fingers through his hair. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure what I think about Oliver taking him on some bucket list trip.” He plants a kiss on my cheek. “What do you think?”

I was afraid he’d ask. Gnawing my lip, I turn around. “Honestly, Den, last time I weighed in on Oliver and your dad, you didn’t talk to me for a month. This may be a subject I shouldn’t give my opinion on.”

“No.” He leans against the counter beside me. “That was…I was going through too much then, after Mom’s funeral. I want you to be able to be straight with me even if it’s not what I want to hear. I promise I won’t push you away.”

“Okay. I think you have every reason to hate your father or to feel nothing for him. Not because he cheated on and left your mom. That was between them. But because he left you. You aren’t obligated to go on this trip or do anything pertaining to him that you don’t want to do. That’s your decision to make. But I also think Oliver is entitled to that same choice.”

I face him and run my hands down his arms. “I know how much your dad hurt you. How much it still affects you. And I’m sorry. I think Oliver hurts too, but differently. If forgiveness helps him to cope then he deserves that peace, even if your father doesn’t. I think Oliver is in a difficult spot between the dad he’s losing again, and the brother he worships.”

Alden stares down at me and slowly brings his lips to mine. The tenderness of the kiss is the sweetest thing I’ve ever experienced. He rests his forehead on mine. “This is what I love about you. The way you care about everyone. And you’re so fucking smart.”

“Don’t make me cry,” I murmur.

“You also have an amazing ass and fuck like a porn star.”

I slap his chest. No matter the situation, he can always make me laugh.

“Screw the rest of the unpacking tonight. Go get your hot bath and I’ll get our bed put together,” he says. “Then I want to fuck you real good.”

It’s not a suggestion I need to hear twice.

We considered keeping my childhood bedroom as our own, but the master is much bigger. I’m not sure what we’re going to do with my old room for now, but eventually it’ll belong to our firstborn child. We’ve both decided we want to wait a few years, until we’re thirty or so, to have kids. We want time to enjoy one another first.

While I soak in a tub with bubbles up to my chin, I hear Alden banging around as he assembles our bed. My thoughts drift to my wedding. Mom and I are already full of plans. In less than a year, I’ll be Ella Stokes, and I can’t wait. In the meantime, I feel like I’m already living my dream.

By the time I’ve finished my bath, Alden is done with the bed. He’s even located the bedding and put it on. I crawl on top of the covers and stretch out while I wait for him to shower.

The day catches up to me and my eyes fall closed. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sleeping when I hear Alden on the phone. He’s talking to Oliver about their father. All I can hear is Alden’s side of the conversation but it’s enough.

“I get it. You do what you need to do. I’m not going to give you any shit over it, but I’m not going with you, and I don’t want to talk to him.” He listens for a moment. “Don’t worry about that. Smith can take over for a couple of weeks. Are you coming in after his appointment tomorrow?”

There’s a pause and Alden chuckles. Before he hangs up, he adds, almost as an afterthought, “Oliver. Tell him he can come to the wedding.”

CHAPTER 12

After nine months, it’s actually here and I’m not sure whether to cry or throw up from nerves. I’ll probably end up doing both. It feels like my whole life has been leading up to this moment. The day I marry Alden Stokes. We’ve been through so many highs and lows to get here.

Everyone is getting ready at our house before we travel to the arboretum nearby, where the ceremony and reception will be held. There’s a tap at my door as I’m giving myself one last look in the mirror. The dress is stunning. I can’t wait for Alden to see me in it.

“Come in,” I call, expecting Mom or Tori. Everyone’s ready and we’re waiting on the limo to take us.

When I turn around, Alden stands inside the door. “Ella.”

It’s all he says while his gaze roams over me. He isn’t the only speechless one.

Look at him. I haven’t seen him since yesterday when Oliver picked him up. He’s got a haircut. It’s a little shorter and neater than it usually is. His tailored tux fits his body perfectly. He looks sexy as hell.

He strides over to me and plants a light kiss on my lips, careful of my makeup. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And mine. Forever.” He gazes down into my eyes. “Tell me how I got so fucking lucky, El.”

“You climbed through my window. I had no chance after that.” I run my hand down his chest. “And now I get you forever.”

Tori bursts through the door. “What the hell are you doing in here? It’s bad luck! Besides, the limo is here.”

“On our way,” I tell her, and she walks out.

“About the limo,” Alden says. “Oliver surprised me with something. Look out the window.”

I sweep the curtain aside to see the long black limo parked out front. A shiny sports car sits behind it. “A sports car?”

“It’s not just a sports car. It’s a Lamborghini Centenario! I’ve always wanted to drive one. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

I’m not going to ruin his excitement, but I don’t get the hype about cars like this. It’s kind of ugly. It looks like it’s been squashed. The thought of climbing into and out of it to get to the venue isn’t pleasant. “It’s amazing.”

“He rented it for the night. He was supposed to drive me so we wouldn’t see each other before the wedding and all that. I know I’ve thrown that out the window, but—” He looks like an anxious kid hoping for permission.

“Go ride with your brother,” I laugh. “Drive the hell out of that car but get there safe. Mom and Tori are taking me in the limo. Enjoy your last few single moments, Mr. Stokes.”

He grins at me and it’s the same one I fell in love with at eleven years old. “Be prepared to be fucked within an inch of your life in that car tonight, once you’re Mrs. Stokes.”

“Always the romantic.”

Mom calls for us to hurry up from downstairs. We start toward the door, and Alden pauses to look down at me. “This is the best day of my entire life, Ella. Everything I’ve been through until now was worth it.”

“You’re worth it,” I tell him. “You’re my Den. You always have been.” I run my hand over his smooth cheek. “We need to go before I cry.”

My parents, Tori, and Mr. Stokes are already in the limo when we get outside. Oliver waits beside the sports car, grinning at both of us. I’m so glad he’s here and that they were able to mend things between them when it comes to their father. Alden may never be close to his father, but he needs his brother. I whip out my phone and call out to them. “Stand together! I want a picture!”

Oliver steps up beside Alden and they sling their arms around one another. They’re a sight in their tuxes, all cleaned up and freshly shaved.

“Get the car in the picture!” Alden insists, and laughter rumbles across the yard. In their excitement, I get a glimpse of the twelve-year-old boys who used to knock on my door to ask me to go to the treehouse. Adorable boys who grew into these strong, handsome men.

After I get a few pictures, I wave at them to go. Alden leaps into the driver’s seat with a smile from ear to ear. As Oliver gets into the passenger side, Alden revs the engine. I sneak another picture of him in the driver’s seat. I can frame it for him for his wall. It’ll be a good surprise for later.

“Those boys,” Mr. Stokes sighs, when I join the others in the limo. “They never grow up.”

“They’re so happy.”

He beams at me. “I’m thrilled to have you for a daughter-in-law. You always were the best influence on Alden. I know you’re the reason he included me today.”

He may not think that if he knew about the nights we snuck out, all the things we did.

The guys pull away before we do, and I hear Alden whoop out his window when they pass us. The excitement and happiness in the limo is palpable, and my nerves really ramp up when we get to the arboretum where I see all the guests gathered.

It’s a beautiful place. Perfect for this. After the ceremony in the gardens, we’ll have the reception in the massive party tent on the manicured lawn. We’ll spend the night at home where I will absolutely take Alden up on his offer to fuck me in the back of that sports car. Then tomorrow, we’re off to Hawaii for our honeymoon for three glorious weeks.

“The guys aren’t here yet,” I point out.

“At least we know they didn’t speed in that death trap,” Mom says, helping me hold my dress where it won’t touch the ground while we head inside.

Ha. I know Alden. He’s zipping around like crazy. Oliver really picked the best gift. I doubt anything will top that.

A few minutes pass while we’re all gathered in the dressing room, getting organized. The officiant arrives and everything is set.

Mr. Stokes walks in and glances around. “Where’s Alden?”

“In the other dressing room with the guys, I imagine,” Mom says, fixing a pin in my hair.

“No, he’s not. I haven’t seen him or Oliver.” He rushes out, and I turn to Mom, my eyes widening.

She holds up her hands. “Don’t panic. I’ll go find them.”

Once she leaves, I grab Tori’s arm. All the nerves that have been restrained all day rush to the surface. “What if he changed his mind? What if he decided this was a mistake and he took off?”

Tori shakes her head. “Don’t be silly. Alden would never do that to you. He knows we’d hunt him down and plant him in this damn garden. They probably got caught in traffic on the highway.”

“Yeah, okay.” She’s right. It’s only been fifteen minutes since we got here. They’re probably pulling into the lot right now.

Tori’s phone rings, and she frowns. “It’s Sawyer.”

Our mutual childhood crush and Tori’s ex-boyfriend didn’t end up becoming a federal agent, but he did go on to become a police officer. As far as I know, they don’t keep in touch. Some instinct drags my stomach to the floor. “Answer it.”

“Hello?”

Mr. Stokes walks back in, wringing his hands. “They aren’t here.”

Tori holds up her hand and puts the phone on speaker. “It’s Sawyer. He wants to talk to Ella or Mr. Stokes. Sawyer, you’re on speaker. They’re here.”

“Mr. Stokes, it’s your boys. You need to get to Midtown Hospital now. The ambulance just left with them.” He pauses while my blood pumps in my ears. “It doesn’t look good.”

Mom steadies me while Tori grabs my hand.

“A car accident?” I manage to utter through the fear.

“No, there was a robbery at The Stop Along and they were inside. They’ve been shot.”

The next few minutes are the most chaotic and terrifying of my entire life. My parents drive us to the hospital while we bombard Sawyer with questions over the phone that he doesn’t have answers for.

“Where were they shot?”

“Were they still breathing?”

“Are they alive?”

“Are they alive?”

Over and over.

Questions I won’t be able to bear the answer to if it isn’t yes.

Sawyer does his best. “Oliver was briefly conscious when I was on the scene, and he was able to tell the paramedics his name. He was unconscious when they left but breathing. I don’t know about Alden. He was unconscious as far as I know. I’m sorry, I don’t have any more information. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

No. This can’t be happening. We’re getting married today. The voices around me fade. All I can hear are the words beating inside my head.

Just let him be alive. Please. Just alive.

Anything else I can handle. Anything else, we can get through. I can’t lose him.

Dad has barely stopped the car when I’m out of it and running for the ambulance bay where two ambulances sit parked. They’re empty. The doors to one of them stand open and the amount of blood on the floor of it squeezes my throat shut.

“You can’t be back here,” a paramedic says, stepping out of the glass doors nearby.

“Stokes,” I manage to choke out. “Alden and Oliver.”

“They’re working on them now. You need to go to the emergency triage desk.” His voice is kind and patient.

“Were they alive? Can you tell me that?”

The paramedic looks over my shoulder at Dad when he replies. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to speak to the doctors.”

Dad wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me away. “Come on, honey. He can’t tell us anything.”

Mom and Mr. Stokes are at the triage desk when we catch up to them. A nurse steps out from around the desk. “Come with me.”

Mr. Stokes asks frantic questions for the both of us, but the nurse waits until we’re in a small, private waiting room to reply. “They’ve been taken to the trauma bay and the doctors are assessing them. All we know for now is they’ve both sustained gunshot wounds. I know this is extremely hard. As soon as we know anything, we will let you know.”

Her gaze drips with sympathy when she looks at me. My panicky brain wants to read into that. To think that it’s because she knows they won’t make it, but it’s likely because I’m wearing a wedding dress.

“Let’s sit,” Dad says, trying to lead me to a chair.

My stomach turns. “Restroom?”

The nurse gestures toward the door. “Across the hall.”

I barely make it to the toilet before throwing up the small breakfast I managed this morning.

This morning. When I was excited and happy. When I had no idea fear like this could exist.

Tori waits for me when I come out of the stall. “Are you okay?”

“I will be once I know he’s alright.”

“Come on, let’s get you some water and wait with the others.”

It’s the longest hour of my life. Every footstep in the hall has me on my feet. Every closing door puts my heart into overdrive.

For some reason, the words Oliver said to me an eternity ago pop into my head. Sometimes, hope holds us by the throat.

When the door finally opens, it isn’t a doctor, but Sawyer. “Do you know anything yet?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Mr. Stokes says. “Do you know what happened? Who shot them? Did you catch them?”

Sawyer shakes his head. “We don’t have anyone in custody yet. Two men entered and tried to rob the place. Another customer pulled a gun on them, and it turned into a shootout. Your boys were caught in the middle. So was the clerk. He was killed. The customer who shot thinks he hit one of the suspects, but he isn’t sure.”

“I don’t understand what they were even doing there!” I cry. “They were supposed to be on the way to our wedding. Why were they there?”

Sawyer shakes his head again. Of course, he doesn’t know. How could he?

Another ten minutes pass and two doctors enter, alongside the nurse from before. “Stokes family?”

“Yes,” I gasp. We were supposed to be family by now.

“I’m Doctor Pick and this is Doctor Thompson. I’m very sorry for what’s happened to your family today. Oliver sustained a gunshot wound to the neck and a fractured skull from striking his head on the floor. He’s in surgery and it is a very touch and go situation right now. We will keep you updated on his condition.”

“Alden,” I choke out.

The expression on his face says it before the words come out. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could, but he was deceased upon arrival.”

Screams.

In my head, in the room, everywhere.

The floor rushes up to me but the landing feels like nothing.

Everything is nothing. It’s better this way. Better in the peaceful dark.

Alden pokes his head into the treehouse. “Hey!”

As he hoped, I jerk and cry out. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He dodges the empty can I throw at him and grins at me. Even at twelve, I know that grin will never let me go.

“It’s hot as a cow’s ass out here! Let’s go to the creek.”

He’s right. Even in the shade of the trees, it’s hot while we follow the path our feet have carved through the groundcover.

He charges into the water, then turns to splash me while I’m kicking off my shoes. “Come on, goody two boobs.”

Giggles spill out of me. “Stop calling me that.” He’s called me that before, hasn’t he? When we were getting on his motorcycle.

No, what am I talking about? He’s never had a motorcycle. He’s thirteen.

I wade into the cool water, and he grabs my hand, pulling me over to the deepest part. When we sit down, the water reaches our chests.

“That’s better.” He dips his head underwater, then flips his wet hair off his forehead. Droplets cling to the scruff on his face. Where did that come from?

“Den, we grew up.” He nods and reaches to run his hand down my cheek. Some memory nudges at me, but I shake it off. “We’re going to get married.”

He looks over to the bank of the creek. “We should have the wedding right there.”

“Where you told me I was going to marry you,” I reply with a smile. “You said you’d never tell me what to do.”

The creek starts rising, the water reaching our necks. “We need to get out.” I start to stand up and realize I’m already on my feet. The creek isn’t flowing around us anymore. It’s everywhere.

Alden reaches for my hand and squeezes it as the water inches up over his chin. “You have to go, Ella.”

“What? No. Come with me. Alden!”

Panic rings in my voice, but he only smiles. His voice is calm and somehow the words are clear even when the water pours into his mouth.

“It works both ways, El. You can hold hope by the throat too. Never let go of it.”

“No! Alden! Alden!”

Hands grip my forearms, and I open my eyes. “Easy, you’re alright. You fainted. I’m giving you a sedative to help calm you.” A wave rushes through me, relaxing my muscles while my brain catches up to where I am. A kind nurse smiles down at me as I scramble to sit up. “Slow down. You’re okay.”

I’m not okay.

“My Alden.”

Tori steps up and takes my hand. Her eyes are swollen and puffy.

“I know,” the nurse says, her voice calm. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Those words have never sounded so empty, so ridiculous.

One of the doctors who gave me the news enters, and the nurse addresses him. “Her vitals are good. Just shock.”

“Understandable.”

I stare up at him. “He’s really gone?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

The image of Alden grinning at me from the front seat of his dream car flashes across my mind, and I know I’ll see it a thousand more times. The last time I saw him. The last time I’ll ever see him alive.

“How did he…did he suffer?”

“Judging by his injuries, I believe he died instantly.”

“What were his injuries?”

Tori squeezes my hand. “El, I’m not sure you should hear all the details right now.”

“I need to know!”

The doctor nods. “He suffered two gunshot wounds to the head, only inches apart. It was very fast.”

Sniffing, I try to control the urge to throw up. “Can I see him?”

The doctor gestures to the nurse, who rushes out. “We have him in a room down the hall.” He stays near me, prepared to steady me when I stand up. A small headrush takes over but it only lasts a second. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, please take me to him.”

Tori walks with us but waits outside the door when we arrive. I need to be alone for this.

Once we step inside, the doctor stops me. “I must caution you. The damage was extensive. I understand you want to see him with your own eyes and say goodbye, but please don’t remove the wrap from his forehead or try to move his head.” The doctor reaches for my hand. “If it were someone I loved, I wouldn’t want them to be traumatized by that image.”

My god.

I feel like I could die on the spot. I want to scream and slam the walls around me. Instead, I give a numb nod. He slips back out the door.

Every step I take toward the pale blue curtain that separates the bed from me feels heavier than the last. My wedding dress drags, catching momentarily on the corner of a floor tile, like it also wants to delay as long as possible.

One last step around the curtain, and there he is. The man I love. The man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.

“Alden.” The word comes out in a choked sob.

He’s lying on his back with a thick white bandage wrapped around his forehead. When I get closer, I see it’s under the back of his head too, leaving only his face visible. A sheet is pulled up to his chest.

His skin is pale, and his lips are tinged a dusty blue.

“Den, I’m here.”

I reach under the sheet to find his hand. It’s cool and clammy when I interlock our fingers like we've done so many times before. For minutes, all I can do is stand there and hold his hand with tears falling onto the sheet.

His expression is calm, peaceful. He could be asleep.

“Please, I don’t know how to do this without you,” I tell him, squeezing his hand. I’d give anything in this world for him to squeeze back. To open his eyes and show me all of this is a mistake. A terrible nightmare.

The room is too quiet. Distantly, I can hear the sound of voices in the hall, the beep of medical equipment. Life.

His stillness is disturbing. This man could never hold still. He had to be moving, joking, laughing. No room with Alden in it was ever this quiet.

I’m not sure how long I stand there, holding onto him before the doctor steps in and tells me it’s time to go. His father wants to say goodbye, and then they’ll be moving him.

I nod, and once he retreats, I give Alden’s hand one last squeeze. “I love you.” Careful not to disturb his head, I press my lips to his for the last time.

“If you’re out there somewhere, Den, my window is always unlocked.”

Walking out of that room is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

The shot the nurse gave me slows me down and puts me in a numb sort of fog that lets me go through the motions. Tori and Mom escort me to the bathroom where I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

How did I get here?

I stare at the reflection of a woman in a wedding dress with smeared mascara and wild hair. Only hours ago, Alden was telling me it was the best day of his life. With no idea it was the last day.

I can’t do this.

How am I supposed to do this?

Tori helps me get the dress off while Mom cleans my face with makeup remover wipes. Someone has given them a set of scrubs for me to change into. Mom unpins my hair and smooths it back into a ponytail. “You’re going to come back to the hotel with me and Dad.”

“Okay.” The thought of going home without Alden is unbearable.

God, Alden don’t do this to me. We were supposed to have our happily ever after. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

Through the overwhelming shock and grief, I remember Oliver. “How’s Oliver?”

“Still in surgery.”

Sniffing, I take a deep breath. “I want to stay and make sure he’s okay.”

“Alright,” Mom agrees.

She knows what they both mean to me. The boys who have been a part of my life since we were in elementary school. No matter how often they may have been at odds, Alden loved his brother. He’d want me to stay.

Oliver is in surgery for hours. It’s nearly midnight when the doctor comes to update us. He survived the surgery. He has a skull fracture, and they had to put a shunt in to drain the bleeding from his brain. They’ve repaired the hole in his neck where the bullet went through. They’re also concerned about swelling in his brain.

The doctor goes on, and I do my best to focus on his words, but in my state of mind, it’s like grasping at threads floating through the air. The bottom line is that he’s alive, but far from out of danger. He’s in a coma and on a ventilator.

“Can I see him?” Mr. Stokes asks.

“For a few minutes. One at a time.”

“Let’s go back to the hotel, honey,” Mom says. “There’s nothing you can do for him right now. You need to get some rest.”

“After I see him,” I promise, waiting for Mr. Stokes to return. “Then we can go.”

When Mr. Stokes steps back into the room, Dad pulls him aside to talk to him. Probably to comfort him or see what he can do to help.

The nurse leads me to a room and cautions me to be mindful of all the equipment. My breath catches in my throat when I see him. The bandage on his head is similar to the one Alden had but a tube runs out of it and disappears behind the bed. There are tubes and wires everywhere.

His neck is bandaged, and his face is nearly as white as the dressings. I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect him to look worse than Alden.

“Can he hear me?” I ask, my voice shaky.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t hurt to talk to him,” the nurse tells me with a kind smile. “Just five minutes.”

She stays nearby while I approach the bed and lay my hand on his arm. “Oliver. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Your family is here.” I wonder if he knows about Alden. I hope not. “Everyone is here, and we love you.”

His chest rises and falls in an unnatural fashion, in time with the wheeze and thump of the ventilator. It’s hard to watch. I’ve never seen a person so broken.

Mom is right. There’s nothing I can do. Nothing any of us can do.

CHAPTER 13

The next week passes in a blur. Oliver remains the same, alive but with little improvement. The doctors can’t predict the exacts effects the traumatic brain injury will have but they warn us his recovery—if he recovers—will be a long one. It varies in severity for each patient and the possibilities are terrifying. He could lose the ability to walk, talk, or take care of himself.

Mr. Stokes only leaves the hospital to help make arrangements for Alden’s funeral. If Alden had seen his father today, sobbing at the gravesite, he wouldn’t have any doubt he loved him. Rail thin and terminally ill himself, he has to be helped back to his car after the burial.

I’ve spent the last week at the hotel with my parents, but I can’t do that forever. I need to go home. They insist on staying with me and I’m not going to argue. I don’t have the energy to do anything but get through each minute that Alden isn’t here.

Tori has been right by my side, and she’s the one who suggests I stay in my guest room when she finds me standing outside the bedroom Alden and I shared.

“No, I’ll be okay.” No bigger lie has ever been told. I’ll never be okay without him. “Will you tell Mom I’m going to take a nap?”

She hugs me. “Get some rest. I’ll let them know not to disturb you. I’m going to go to the hospital and see how Oliver is doing, then I’ll be back this evening, okay?”

My numb nod is all she gets in return, but I hope she knows how much I appreciate her right now. Later, I’ll tell her. When my thoughts aren’t a tumbling tangle of Alden’s smile, his body being lowered into the ground, his laugh, his life.

I close the door behind me and survey the room. Our bed is unmade. The sight makes me smile. We always agreed that making a bed was pointless busy work. No one sees it but us, and we’re coming back to it that night. Why bother?

I strip off my dress to change into sweatpants and a tee shirt. My slobby clothes, Den used to call them. Makeup lies strewn around my bathroom counter. Had I been standing here laughing with Mom and Tori while they helped me with my hair and makeup only a week ago?

I wash my face and take my hair down. The faint smell of Alden’s aftershave makes my heart clench. When I return to the bedroom, I notice one of his discarded hoodies tossed on the chair. I pull it on over my shirt and curl up in bed, surrounded by the scent of him.

All I want to do is sleep forever.

My body makes a good attempt at it. When I open my eyes, the room is pitch dark except for the glow of the clock on the nightstand, showing me I’ve slept nearly nine hours. The house is as quiet as I’d expect it to be at one a.m.

My stomach growls and aches. When was the last time I ate? Mom handed me something this morning before the funeral, but I don’t remember what or if I ate it. It’s tempting to close my eyes again and try to escape, but Smith’s advice to me at the funeral pops into my head.

He lost his long term boyfriend of over five years to a car accident before he met Harry. He put his arm around me at the funeral and whispered, “Do you want me to punch the next person who says they’re sorry for your loss?” The understanding in his face was so comforting.

“Can I kick them while they’re down?” I mumbled.

“Absolutely.”

His sympathetic eyes on mine pulled the words from my lips that had been beating through my head for days. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You get up every day that you can. You be kind to yourself when you can’t. But every day that you can, you get up and do whatever needs done. The days will move on, and it’ll get easier.”

I doubt that last part, but there are things that will need to be done. Like making sure the authorities find the men who did this. The robbery was featured on the news and is still being repeated as they look for the men who were caught on the security camera, but it won’t last. Robberies aren’t rare, and neither are shootings. People will quickly move on and I’m not going to let this become some unsolved case in a pile.

And then there’s Oliver. His father is sick, his brother and mother are gone. He has no family. If he survives, he’ll need his friends. He’ll need me. Alden would want me to be there for him.

Those are the reasons I get out of bed and make myself eat. They’re the reasons I’ll need to keep coming back to every time I don’t want to move.

After I eat, I’m not sure what to do with myself. It’s the middle of the night. With a bath in mind, I head back toward my bathroom, but find myself standing inside my childhood bedroom. We haven’t done anything with it yet. Odds and ends have found their way here and it’s become a temporary storage area.

It’s a clear night, and moonlight glows through the window. The sight of a teenage Alden grinning at me while he lifts the window flashes through my mind. The broken trellis my dad gave us sits in the corner of the room, waiting on me to follow through with my plan to paint it and use it to frame my wedding pictures.

The window gives a familiar sound when I push it open. Cool air flows in. I sit with my back to it, leaning against the wall.

It’s unlocked, Alden. It’s open, even. Where are you?

“Come on, Den,” I say, the words coming out in a sob. “Just once more, please.”

I’m not sure how long I sit there, my arms curled around my knees, sobbing my heart out before Dad sits down beside me. I didn’t even hear him come in.

For a few minutes, we just sit there while my sobs dry to an occasional hitch in my chest. “I’m never doing this again,” I tell him. “I’m never falling in love again. I can’t.”

He puts his arm around me, and I lean on his shoulder. “I know that sounds like a good plan right now, but I’ll let you in on something I didn’t realize until I was much older. You can’t avoid love. It’s the most vital part of us. Love drives us in ways we’d never steer ourselves. It even lives in the darkest of our emotions. Jealousy, joy, despair, hope, grief, they’re all derived from love. The want of it, the loss of it, the giving and receiving.” He sighs and kisses my temple. “Grief is the most brutal, and I wish I could take this pain away, but it’ll get better. I promise.”

Detective Ramos, the man in charge of investigating the robbery and murders, calls me two weeks after Alden’s funeral with the first bit of good news we’ve gotten.

Everything so far has been one big frustration. Like the security video. We were lucky, I suppose, that there was video at all, but it’s grainy and only captures the parking lot and front doors. The Stop Along didn’t have functioning cameras inside.

The news has been sharing still shots from the video of the two men who entered right behind Alden and Oliver, hoping for an identification. The part of the footage right before that is what plays in my head on a constant loop. Alden and Oliver approach the doors. Alden opens the door and holds it for a woman to go ahead of him. Oliver says something to him, and Alden turns and smiles. It’s that smile I think about.

The turn and smile.

He was so happy.

We know very little of what took place inside. The woman Alden held the door for had gone straight to the restroom in the back, and she stayed put when she heard the shots. The customer who tried to intervene was shitfaced drunk. His story of how many shots he fired and in what direction keeps changing. The only part he relayed that we know is accurate is that the men demanded the customers’ wallets, cash, and phones. A few days after the robbery, all the empty wallets were found in a dumpster along with Oliver’s smashed phone.

They weren’t exactly bright criminals since the cops found a partial print on the clerk’s wallet. That turns out to be the first break.

“Ella?” Detective Ramos asks, when I answer the phone.

“Yes, did you get them?” I ask, hating the frantic sound of my voice. I can’t help it. The desperation for answers, for justice, is overwhelming.

“We don’t have anyone in custody, but we have an identification for one of them. The print on the wallet came back with a match. The judge issued a warrant. We haven’t located the suspect yet, but this is good news.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Connor Warren. He has a lot of priors in Alabama. Assault, theft, fleeing and evading. We put his picture and information out to the media. We’ll get him.”

“Does this mean we can offer a reward now?”

The way the people around us have come together to support Oliver and Alden is a testament to how much they were loved. Their only blood family is their father, but they have a family built of multiple communities.

The biker clubs especially step up. They quickly raised enough money to offer a twenty-five thousand dollar reward. The authorities didn’t want to do that until they had a name, a specific person to pursue. They warned us that otherwise they’d get buried in false tips from people hoping to claim the money.

“Yes, that’s also why I’m contacting you. We’ve set up a tip line to go along with it.”

“Does Mr. Stokes know?”

“Yes, I met with him at the hospital. I’ll keep you updated.”

After thanking him, I hang up, sit down, and take a deep breath. The fucking monsters who killed my fiancé and gravely injured his brother are out there, running around and living a life they don’t deserve. We’re inching closer, and that gets my hopes up. Nothing will bring my Den back, but I can fucking make them pay for destroying our lives.

Mom and Dad left to go back home yesterday, after I urged them for the last couple of days. I don’t know what I would’ve done without them these past few weeks, but I need to try to get back to some sort of normalcy. It’s the hardest thing.

Alden and I would’ve been back from our honeymoon yesterday. I had planned to return to work tomorrow and as much as I want to curl up and hide, I resist the urge to reschedule my client’s appointments. I need the distraction of work. I’m trying to take Smith’s advice. Get up every day that I can and do what needs to be done.

I’ll be back at work tomorrow, but I can’t sit here all evening. I’m going to go visit Oliver and talk to Mr. Stokes about today’s progress.

The birds have thrown a shit party on my car. A detour to a car wash would be a good idea. Alden would be all over me about not letting it hurt the paint. Of course, if he was here, I’d be parked in the garage, instead of avoiding it because I can’t bear to see his motorcycle.

Oliver doesn’t look any different when I enter his hospital room, but Mr. Stokes looks terrible. He’s asleep in a chair across from Oliver’s bed. Quietly, I walk over to Oliver and gently take his hand.

He doesn’t budge. He never does. The steady beeps and hisses are the only sounds. It’s heartbreaking but there’s a moment when I wonder if he’d be better off if he doesn’t survive this. He’s going to wake to find out his brother, the person he loves most in the world, is gone.

“Hey Oliver.” My voice is soft.

Despite my low tone, Mr. Stokes jerks awake. He sits up and scrubs his face with his hands. “Ella. Shit, I was going to call you. Did the detective get ahold of you?”

“He did. You should go home and get some rest. I can stay a while.”

He shakes his head. “They’re only letting me get away with camping out in here because I played the dying old man card.” He stands up and walks over to the bedside to look down at his remaining son. “The neurosurgeon was here. He says he’s improving. The swelling is down, the bleeding has stopped. He’s still in a coma. The doctor is hopeful he’ll recover, but he said it’s common for a coma to last weeks or even months when it comes to a traumatic brain injury.”

Swallowing hard, I squeeze Oliver’s hand. “So, all we can do is wait for him to wake up?”

Mr. Stokes nods and strokes his hand over Oliver’s other arm. “Yes, we wait and hope.” He looks over at me and lets out a sigh that sounds like pure defeat. “I have to ask something of you, Ella. First, I’m going to apologize because it’s too much to ask of anyone, especially with what you’re going through. But my time is very limited.”

I know what he’s going to ask before he says it.

“Even if I make it long enough to see him wake, I won’t be able to help him. I can barely get myself through the days anymore. It feels like the cancer is burning through me faster by the day. I know you care about him. Once I’m gone, will you care for him? He’ll need someone to watch out for his best interest until he’s able. To make medical decisions on his behalf.”

He pauses, and I reply before he can continue. “Yes. Of course I will.”

His watery eyes look into mine. “And be there for him. He won’t have any family left.”

I take his hand. “I’m his family. It’s what Alden would’ve wanted too.”

“Thank you. I feel so much better, knowing he won’t be alone.”

“He won’t be.” Both of us turn to see Tori standing at the doorway. “You saw Alden’s funeral and how many people turned out. Your boys have a lot of people who love them. Me included. He won’t be alone.”

Mr. Stokes has tears running down his face. He wipes at them and nods. “They’re good boys. I think I will head home to get some rest.”

Once he leaves, I fill Tori in on what the detective told me.

“I saw the wanted picture on social media, and that they finally let you offer the reward. I searched his name online, tried to see what I could learn about him, but there’s not much. He looks like a typical lowlife.”

My chuckle is bitter. “I didn’t even think to search his name.”

“You’re exhausted. We should get some dinner and go back to your place.”

With a smile, I regard my best friend. “Tori, you’ve been great, and I love the fuck out of you. But you don’t need to stay with me tonight.” When she opens her mouth to argue, I hold up my hand. “If I need you, I promise I won’t hesitate to call, but I need to be alone. I’m going back to work tomorrow. I need to try to get back to normal life things if I’m going to get through this.”

She hugs me. “Going back to work is a good idea. Can I meet you for lunch?”

“That’d be great.”

Normal doesn’t feel normal. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live in a world without him. In the times I’m not crying, I feel strange. Zoned out and heavy. Like I’m walking through a tunnel where the world is projected on screens around me, two dimensional and unimportant.

I get things done. Weeks stack up and I fall into a routine. Up early, work until late afternoon, visit Alden’s grave, visit Oliver, then go to the gym to make sure I’m thoroughly exhausted when I go to bed. So tired that I won’t lie awake and let thoughts creep in. It’s easier and far less painful to disassociate, but it also scares me because days start to blur together. Sometimes, when I crawl into bed at night, I can’t recall a single thing I’ve said or a thought in my head that day. Autopilot has been in control.

Even when Mr. Stokes gets admitted to a hospice care center and dies three days later, all I seem to feel is numb. The only bright spot is that Oliver continues to improve. He’s removed from the ventilator and breathing on his own. The doctors grow more confident that he’ll wake and have a chance at recovery. What that will look like, I have no idea, but I’ll be there every step of the way.

CHAPTER 14

Grass scratches my legs when I sit down in the same spot where I’ve spent hours a day for the last two months. Ever since the day of the funeral when Alden was laid to rest in a grave beside his mother’s.

Over two months without him. It doesn’t seem possible.

“I’m back again,” I tell him, hooking my arms around my knees. “It’s going to storm so this visit might be short. I love you but not enough to get struck by lightning.”

My fingers play through the fresh grass on his grave, the way they used to play through his hair. “Oliver is getting better. He’s been showing signs of consciousness, responding to touch, even following basic instructions like squeezing my hand. The doctors say he should get more and more aware. He’s fighting to make it. You’d be so proud of him. I wish you were here to see it.”

My last words are broken, and I let myself sob for a few minutes.

Grief isn’t just sadness. It’s every memory you have of them slamming into you over and over. Difficult conversations, happy moments, something they said or did, a shared laugh. It’s the devastating realization that you’re the only one who holds those memories now. It’s longing so badly to hear their voice or see them again that your skin hurts, your soul aches.

Thunder rolls across the sky and the wind begins to pick up. “I’ve got to go. I need to go meet with Smith and make sure your business is surviving.”

It’s my business now. I knew that Alden had put me as beneficiary on his life insurance—we both did that once we were engaged—but I was surprised to find out he’d updated his will. All his accounts and possessions went to me, along with his half of Stokes Brothers. I know nothing about bikes or running a garage. Once Oliver is healed, I’ll sign my stake over to him.

I lay my hand on the cool earth. “I love you, Alden.”

My chest aches on my walk back to my car. It’s always hard to leave him here.

Raindrops begin to pelt the windshield during the drive over to the shop. The sight of the Stokes Brothers Custom Cycles sign puts a reluctant grin on my face when I remember the day Alden brought me here to show me. He was so proud.

Milo is talking with a big burly man who keeps gesturing to the motorcycle parked beside them. The big guy clearly isn’t happy about something. I give Milo a wave and walk on back to the breakroom where Smith sits at a table.

“Ella, how are you doing?” he asks, getting to his feet to hug me.

“Getting through the days. How are things going here?” Smith has stepped up and taken over most of Oliver’s administrative duties, while Milo has been managing the repair side of the shop. They’ve both been a godsend, making sure the shop stays afloat until Oliver is well.

“Good. Real good, actually. Everything’s running smoothly. Profits are up. People want to support Oliver. We’ve had a lot of guys bringing in their bikes for routine maintenance they usually would’ve done themselves.”

“That’s amazing. Is there anything you need from me? I’ve told Milo he’s welcome to hire someone to help if needed. I’m sure you’re short handed without Alden and Oliver.”

Smith nods and offers me a bottle of water from the mini fridge. “We’ve been discussing it. We could use another set of hands for the routine, basic stuff. I’ve inquired at the local community college. They have a motorcycle repair trade program. We may hire a new graduate.” He sighs and gives me a small smile. “No one can replace Alden. He was a damn artist with his work.”

“He adored it,” I agree. “Let me know if there are any issues or if you need anything.”

“I will. Right now, everything is under control.”

Checking up on the business isn’t my only reason for visiting. “Do you have a key to Oliver’s place?”

Not long after Alden moved in with me, Oliver took over the apartment above the shop. Smith excuses himself and returns with a key.

“Thanks. I thought it might be good for him to have some of his clothes, maybe a book or two he likes for when he’s more aware.”

“Comfort items,” Smith says with a nod. “That’s a good idea.”

“I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Take care of yourself, Ella. And you’ll have to join us for dinner soon. Harry has been eager to fire up his new grill.”

“That sounds fun. Tell him I said hi.”

Milo stops me and chats for a minute when I leave the breakroom, but he’s quickly called away by another customer. Smith wasn’t kidding. There are more bikes parked in the bays and outside than I think I’ve ever seen here at once. They’re busy.

Smith told me before that they’d given Oliver’s place a quick cleaning, throwing out the trash and food from his fridge so nothing would rot. Other than the empty fridge, the apartment looks like he could’ve just left. His shoes are lined neatly by the door, a book he was reading sits on the coffee table, the remote waits on the arm of the couch.

It’s hard to be in here, another space where I have memories of Alden. Part of me wants to linger, to let the ghost of his voice play in my ears. A brief smile finds my lips when I remember him saying he wanted to fuck me against the windows. We fulfilled that little fantasy more than once.

This isn’t what I’m here for.

Quickly, I gather a couple of changes of clothes from Oliver’s closet, and the book from the coffee table. After a moment of hesitation, I grab a framed picture of him and Alden standing in front of the Stokes Brothers sign. Maybe it’ll be too painful to have nearby once he understands what’s happened to his brother, but he can decide.

I lock the door behind me, and I’ve just climbed into my car when Tori calls.

Without the preamble of a hello, she blurts, “He’s awake! Oliver’s awake!”

I can’t even describe the emotions that wash over me. He’s going to make it. As horrible as all this is, something is going to go right. He’s going to be devastated. And he faces a long, arduous recovery, but there’s hope. Something to hold onto in all this grief.

“I’m on my way.”

“No, wait.” She pauses for a minute. “There’s no reason to come right now. They had to sedate him. He won’t wake again for a few hours.”

What? “They sedated him after waiting two months for him to wake up?”

“He wasn’t himself when he woke. He was fighting everyone, jerking the IV out, trying to get out of bed. Screaming. It was scary. Hang on.” My mind tries to wrap around those facts while I hear her blow her nose in the background before she continues. “Sorry. The doctor said that’s very common for someone gaining consciousness after a long period. He may have to wake up a few times before he doesn’t wake in a panic.”

“Was it because…did he know about Alden?” Logically, I know that isn’t likely. We were careful not to discuss him in Oliver’s room, but he could’ve known he was dead before he lost consciousness. Plus, he’s a twin. There’s an intuition involved.

“No, I don’t think so. I was in the cafeteria getting a coffee when he first woke, but a nurse was in the room. They got a doctor in there quickly, and he was fine with letting them examine him. They had me wait in the hall, but I could hear them. He asked where he was. All they told him was that he’s in the hospital and that he’ll be okay.”

Relief floods through me despite finding out he was so distressed. “He talked? He can talk?”

“Yes. His voice was croaky but his words were clear.”

“And he understood enough to answer their questions?” One of my biggest fears was that he’d wake with such significant brain damage that he’d have no ability to speak or comprehend.

“They weren’t really asking him questions. They were having him move his legs and arms, looking in his eyes, things like that. They told him he had a friend who was waiting to see him and then let me in.”

Her voice hitches. “Oh, Ella, he didn’t recognize me. I told him my name and took his hand. He kept staring at me like I might be there to hurt him. Then he jerked his hand away and started screaming and fighting. It was like someone flipped a switch. The nurse escorted me out of the room.”

Guilt settles on my shoulders for not being there when he woke up. No matter what state he’s in, I’m going to be there when he comes to again.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“Yes, but I think I’ll go home like the nurse told me to. I don’t know if it was seeing me that set him off for some reason or if it would’ve happened anyway.”

“You should go home and get some rest. They warned us he’d be unpredictable when he woke. I’m sure it had nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah. This is still a good day, you know? He’s awake. It was awful to see him that way though.”

“I know. I’m sorry you saw it, but I’m so glad you were there. He shouldn’t wake up surrounded by strangers. I’m at the shop now. I grabbed some clothes and stuff for him. I’m on my way. If they won’t let me in with him, I’ll stay in the waiting room until he wakes again. I need to be there.”

Once we hang up, I head for the hospital. I’m happy to see Heather is the night nurse assigned to Oliver. She’s kind but in a no-nonsense sort of way. Heather and another nurse named Danny have been with Oliver since the beginning.

Heather’s face lights with a smile when she sees me. “Did Dr. Siva call you?”

“He did.” My phone rang the second Tori and I hung up. He gave me the same news she did. “Is he still asleep now?”

She accompanies me to his room. “Yes, but he may wake again this evening. It’s hard to predict in these first days post coma.”

“Can I stay with him? I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

“You can but buzz me if he opens his eyes. His behavior will be unpredictable.”

“I will,” I promise.

Oliver doesn’t look any different than he has for the last week. All his bandages are off and his visible wounds have healed. A vicious gash of a scar draws a line across one side of his neck from the surgery to repair the damage from the bullet. His hair has started to grow over the scars on his skull, both from the surgery and the draining tube. Nourished only through a feeding tube for over two months, he’s grown painfully thin.

He’s sleeping peacefully, and I’m quiet while I tuck his belongings away in the nearby cabinet. It occurs to me I need to get him a phone. Once he’s awake, I want him to be able to keep in touch when he needs me.

I take a seat in the small recliner in the corner to wait. Hours pass and my eyes fall shut. I’m not sure how long I was dozing but something makes me jerk awake to see Oliver looking at me.

“Oh, you’re awake. Hey,” I say softly, sitting up. “How are you feeling?”

He stares at me until I start to wonder if maybe he’s asleep with his eyes open. “I don’t know. Tired. My head hurts.”

His raspy voice brings tears to my eyes, and I do my best not to start crying. I don’t want to freak him out. I hit the buzzer for the nurse to tell her he’s awake and in pain. I want to rush over to him and hold his hand, but I keep what Tori said in mind. He panicked last time.

“Thirsty.”

A pitcher of ice water sits nearby, and I pour him a cup. He watches me warily when I approach. His hand trembles too severely to take the cup so I hold the straw to his lips while he takes a couple of sips.

The nurse enters and smiles in our direction. She introduces herself to him, and he allows her to take his vital signs while I stand back in the corner. “Vitals are good. We sure are glad to have you back. Your friend, Ella, has been here waiting for you to wake up.”

He blinks at her. “What happened?”

Oh god. At what point do we tell him?

The answer is apparently not yet. “You were hurt, and we’ve been taking care of you. You’re doing much better. The doctor is on his way now to speak to you and answer any questions you have, okay?”

He nods, and the look of confusion on his face cracks my heart.

“I’m going to give you something to help your pain.” He watches while she injects it into his IV and the grimace on his face softens a little.

The doctor walks in and it’s clear he’s been pulled out of his sleep. Fair enough, it’s after midnight. The first thing he does is ask me to step out of the room. It’s tempting to argue. The last thing I want to do is leave, but I know he’s prioritizing Oliver, like he should.

I peek over at Oliver. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

He doesn’t answer, only stares at me like he thinks I might be a hallucination. The tears spill over as soon as I step into the hall. “He’s awake, Den,” I whisper. “I wish you were here.”

After letting myself cry, I splash some water on my face in the restroom and get a cup of coffee from a machine. It tastes like bitter mud, but I need the caffeine.

The doctor asks to speak with me instead of letting me back into his room once he’s done. He cautions me to keep things calm, and not to say anything to upset him.

“He doesn’t remember the robbery?” I ask.

“At this point, he doesn’t remember anything. He can’t tell me his name or where he lives.” He lays his hand on my arm. “That’s not unusual. Especially amnesia surrounding the event. He’s fragile right now. He may not remember tomorrow what you say today. Be patient and give him a few days to acclimate. A lot of his disorientation should pass. We’ll be running tests to see his level of function and what extent of rehabilitation he will require. His speech is a good sign, and the fact that he can move his arms and legs with little difficulty. We’ll know a lot more in a few days.”

“Can I…should I visit with him? I don’t want to make him worse, but—”

He nods and gives me a kind smile. “It’s good for him to know he has people who love him even if he can’t remember them. Don’t be alarmed if he becomes belligerent with you. It’s fear and frustration.”

“I understand.”

It’s scary, walking back into his room, and if I feel that way, I can’t imagine his terror. Waking up in pain and not knowing a soul, not even yourself.

The nurse leaves us alone and tells me to call if we need her. Oliver lies in bed, staring at the wall ahead of him. His eyes dart over to me when I approach his bed.

“Would you like another drink of water?” It’s the only thing that comes to mind to break the ice. There are so many questions screaming inside me that I can’t ask. Number one being why were you at The Stop Along at all?

“Yes, please,” he replies. He’s not as animated as before, probably due to whatever they gave him for anxiety. I pull the chair up to the edge of his bed and hold the water cup where he can reach the straw.

“The nurse said you’re my friend. I don’t know your name. She said mine but I don’t remember.” The tremble of fear in his voice claws at my heart.

“I’m Ella. And you’re Oliver.” He doesn’t resist when I take his hand. “We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t remember. This might be a dream. Maybe I’m still asleep.” He’s talking more to himself now.

“You’ve been through a lot. It might take a few days for you to get your bearings. I know it’s scary but try not to worry. You’re safe and you’re going to be okay.”

He turns his head to look at me. “I’m so tired.”

“That’s alright. You can go to sleep. You’ll feel better soon.”

He squeezes my hand. “Will you stay for a while?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His body seems to relax on a deep sigh, and he closes his eyes. Seconds later, his chest rises and falls with even breaths. I’m careful to keep my tears quiet while I retreat to the recliner.

I’m terrified about what the next couple of months might bring. What the extent of his injuries is going to be, but the fact he trusted me and wanted me to stay is enough for now. He’s still Oliver.

“I’ve got him, Alden,” I whisper, settling back to spend the night in the recliner.

CHAPTER 15

The hope that Oliver’s memory would return quickly fades as a week passes, and then another. He seems like a different person every time I see him. Sometimes, he’s happy to see me, and other days I barely make it through his door before he screams at me to get out. When that happens, I comply, but I make sure he knows I’ll always be back.

It’s hard to watch and feel like there’s nothing you can do to help. This afternoon he glared at me the second I walked in. The nurse warned me he was having a rough day after a particularly hard morning in physical therapy. I’ve learned when he’s in that state of mind, it’s better to leave him alone, like he prefers, so I drop off the lunch I’ve brought him.

Instead of eating with him, I take my food to the cemetery and sit beside Alden’s grave. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday,” I say, unwrapping my cheeseburger. “It’s been hectic since Oliver woke up. I’m jumping between work appointments and the hospital. They’re going to be moving him soon to a rehabilitation center on the other side of town. He’s getting better in some ways. He has to use a walker because his balance has been affected and two months in a coma left his muscles weak. The doctors say he’ll progress in some areas faster than others.”

I take a bite of my food and imagine Alden sitting beside me, listening to me prattle on. “He doesn’t remember anything, Den. Not you or me or even himself. The doctors say it isn’t uncommon. He’s still recovering, and he has a long way to go. They think the memories will come back to him. We just have to give it time. It’s hard to watch him suffer. He has tremors in his hands, migraines, trouble thinking of words. His moods are unstable, and he’s angry a lot. I don’t know how to help him. I wish you were here. He’d listen to you. You’d know how to talk to him.”

A bumblebee floats lazily around me, then lands on the new headstone that was installed a couple of days ago. The shiny black marble bears an engraving of a tiny motorcycle, along with Alden’s name and the dates. It’s masculine and beautiful. I think he’d like it.

At first, I thought coming here might be too sad, and in the beginning, it was. But on days like this, when the weather is beautiful, I find a lot of comfort in the peace and quiet of the cemetery. And in talking to Alden about my life.

I tell him about the adorable twin babies I photographed yesterday and the hilarious moment when one of them shit through their diaper down the father’s arm. He would’ve loved that story.

An email alerts me that the new phone I bought for Oliver has been delivered to my house. After finishing my lunch and saying goodbye, I swing by and grab it before returning to work.

Two boudoir sessions and a maternity shoot later, I’m on my way back to the hospital. Hopefully, Oliver is in a better mood.

My heart jumps into my throat when I enter Oliver’s room and Detective Ramos stands beside the bed.

“What is it? What’s happened?” I ask.

For the first time, I see the detective smile. “We made an arrest. I wanted to let Oliver know in person and see if he recognized the suspect.”

Oliver shakes his head. “I don’t recognize anyone,” he grumbles.

The detective shows me a mugshot. The guy looks a little different from the old mugshot that was released to the public. His hair is shorter, and he has facial hair, but it’s him. Connor Warren. One of the men responsible for Alden’s death and Oliver’s injuries.

“It was his fingerprint on the wallet?” I ask.

“Yes. There’s no doubt. We have him. I have more good news. The other man has been identified as his cousin, Dean Warren. We have a warrant for him as well and his picture will go out to the media tonight.”

My hand leaps to my mouth too late to cover the sob. After months, I’d started to lose hope we’d ever get justice. Detective Ramos pats me on the back while I take a deep breath. “Thank you.” It’s all I can manage to say in my shock and relief. It’s a matter of time for the cousin.

“He’s being charged with two counts of murder and armed robbery. He has a record a mile long. There’s no way the judge will allow bail.”

“How did you find him?” I ask.

“It was a call to the tip line from a young woman who has a baby with Connor. She let us know when he was coming to visit the child and we were waiting for him. She also knows the cousin and turned them both in with the hope of claiming the reward.”

“It’s hers,” I exclaim.

Detective Ramos nods. “I’ll contact her and let her know. She’s asked us not to release her name to the media in fear of the cousin who’s still at large.”

“That’s understandable. I’ll get the cashier check for you to pass along to her. Please let her know how grateful we are.”

“I’ll do that.” He looks at Oliver who has been quiet. “I’m glad to see you’re doing better.”

“Thank you. Did he say why? Why he shot us?”

“No, he’s not talking other than to say it wasn’t him. If you want my opinion, this was a robbery gone wrong. The armed customer fired on them and it just went to hell from there. You and Alden were caught in the middle. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

The room falls into silence after Detective Ramos leaves. “Are you okay?” I ask Oliver.

“Suppose so. It doesn’t change anything. I’m still fucked up. They’re transferring me to a rehabilitation center in the morning.”

He doesn’t resist when I grab his hand. “I’m sorry that you’re going through this. I know it’s hell. But I need you to care, Oliver. I need you to work hard to get better so you can help me make sure these fuckers pay for what they did to our family.”

His angry expression flickers, showing the vulnerability hiding beneath when he asks, “Will you still visit me?”

“Until you’re sick of seeing my face.”

Oliver seems to take my plea for him to get better seriously. His physical therapist raves over him, praising how hard he works and how fast he’s progressing. I can see changes every time I visit. It’s hard to watch him struggle over things we all take for granted. Like being able to feed yourself, button your own shirt, or walk without the fear of falling.

I visit daily, even if it’s just to pop in, get screamed at and leave. Those days are getting fewer as he recovers, and I don’t take it personally. He’s exhausted after spending hours a day working on his physical and mental exercises. Add that to the stress and frustration of not being able to remember anything about himself or his life before the robbery. Of course, he’s angry and upset. As the weeks add up without any sort of breakthrough in that department, his mood gets worse and worse. The doctors assure me it’s a part of the recovery process, and to give him time. His brain is still healing. They’ve tried to get him to speak with a psychiatrist, but he won’t cooperate. I hate it that he’s so miserable.

It's been a long day. Tori called earlier to let me know she tried to visit Oliver and he wouldn’t see her. It would probably be the same for me, so I go home instead. I’ll call and check on him later. He doesn’t spend much time on his phone because staring at the screen triggers his migraines. He had two seizures during his first two weeks in rehab, and I know he worries about triggering another of those too, though they seem to be controlled by his medication now.

My stomach growls, reminding me I skipped lunch today. I’m too tired to bother with cooking. Instead, I prepare a frozen pizza, then settle down in front of the TV to eat. There’s nothing on that can keep my attention and once I’ve finished eating, I click it off.

It’s getting dark. This is the most difficult time of day. In the evening, when the light fades, closing the world in around me, that’s when I really feel it. When I just want someone here.

Laying my head back, I sigh. “Four months now, Den. It doesn’t seem possible,” I mumble to the ceiling. “Four months without you.”

Usually at these times, I try to distract myself, but it won’t work. I hear the quiet of the empty house tonight. It’s louder than the TV or any music I could play. It comes from inside, trapped in my chest.

The ring of my phone startles me, and anxiety blooms in my stomach when I see it’s from Oliver’s rehab. Oliver would call from his cell. Something’s wrong.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Ella?”

“Yes.” I recognize Freya’s voice. She’s been Oliver’s night nurse since he was admitted. “What’s going on Freya? Is he okay?”

“He’s threatening to sign himself out against medical advice and leave. Dr. Gable is in with him now, trying to reason with him. I’m not sure he’ll be successful. I thought he might listen to you.”

“I’m on my way.”

Fuck.

Thankfully, it’s only a fifteen minute drive to the rehab center. I make it in ten.

Oliver sits in the chair in the corner of his room. He’s already gathered his belongings and is fully dressed.

Dr. Gable regards me. “Hi Ella, we were just discussing Oliver’s options. He’s not too happy tonight.”

“Don’t talk about me like a misbehaving child,” Oliver says through gritted teeth. I can’t say I blame him. It did sound patronizing.

He stands up and stalks across the room. He’s regained his balance and grown so much stronger in the six weeks he’s been here. He begins to pace, and the look in his eyes is that of a trapped animal in a cage. His sudden glare pins me.

He juts a finger toward Dr. Gable. “He says you make my medical decisions. That I need your signature to leave, or they’ll contact authorities to force me to return.”

Thanks for throwing me under that bus, Dr. Gable. I could’ve told him threats wouldn’t work. He takes my silence for confirmation.

His chest heaves on a deep breath and he strides over until we’re face to face. “I don’t want your signature to leave. I want your signature releasing the medical proxy. I can make my own decisions now.”

It’s time to be strong. Despite how I hate to see him hurting and angry, I have to do what’s best for him. But what’s best? How much progress is he going to make here if he’s forced to stay? He’ll view it as a prison and either become completely uncooperative, or he’ll take off anyway. He’s not insane or unable to know what he wants just because he hasn’t regained his memory. He can think logically and does when his emotions aren’t overwhelming him like they are now.

Keeping my voice calm, I reply. “You think you’re capable of making the best decisions for yourself, right now?”

“Yes. I’m not a child who needs to be told when to go to bed, when to get up, what to eat, or when to rest. I’m fucking done with it.”

“So, that would be the first decision you’d make? To leave here.”

His jaw hardens. “I am leaving. I don’t give a fuck what any paperwork says.”

“If you want to go, ultimately no one is going to be able to stop you.” That’s not strictly true. I’m sure they could sedate him. But I’m not sure how it actually works. When I became his medical power of attorney he was still in a coma. He couldn’t make those decisions for himself. Arguably, he could take me off that document himself. It’s not like he’s been found incompetent and committed or anything.

He looks vindicated at my words, until I continue. “Just tell me, Oliver, where are you going to go?” He blinks as if he hadn’t even considered it. Away from here seemed to be his only goal. “When you walk out of here, where are you headed? Home? Do you know where you live? Do you know where you work?”

His expression melts from anger into distress. I hate it but he needs to face reality. “Are you going to be able to get your medications, take them on time, get yourself to therapy? Can you make your own meals, drive yourself where you need to go? What are you going to do if you have another seizure, or when your migraine is so bad you can’t open your eyes?”

“Fuck!” he shouts and begins pacing again. He drops into the chair and leans over with his head in his hands. “I don’t have a home. I don’t have anything.”

I kneel in front of him. “You do. You absolutely have a home. You have friends and a successful business. You have a wonderful life to return to, Oliver. That’s what you’ve been working so hard toward. You’ve done an amazing job, and I’m so proud of you.”

I’m not sure if my words are getting through. He remains silent, holding his head. Stress brings on a lot of his symptoms and he’s probably barreling toward a migraine.

“Dr. Gable, the therapies and treatments he’s receiving now, could they all be accomplished on an outpatient basis?” I ask.

It isn’t a question he expects. “I can’t say I’d advise it at this point.”

“I understand that. I’m asking if it’s possible.”

He’s able to feed himself, the tremors in his hands aren’t gone but are far better, thanks to therapy and medication. He can walk unassisted, bathe himself, dress himself. Maybe we can do this outside of a hospital setting.

Dr. Gable switches from talking to me back to Oliver. “You could suffer another seizure. The panic attacks you’ve had are mostly brought on by overstimulation and stress. When you’re overwhelmed, you can get disoriented. It’s not safe for you to be alone.”

“He wouldn’t be alone.”

My response makes Oliver lift his head.

“Do you trust me?” I ask him.

He nods and whispers, “You’re the only one I trust.”

“Then I have a compromise. You aren’t ready to be on your own yet. I know it sucks, but the doctor is right about that. Come and stay with me while you continue your recovery.”

Tori and I have spent time recently discussing what to do when Oliver gets out of the rehab center. The hope was that he’d have his memory back and could move back to his home while we checked in on him. Even if he stays another month or two here, that may not happen. Both of us agreed that it would make more sense for him to stay with me once he’s released, since I have a guest room and live alone. She and Paul would both help as needed. I’m just putting that backup plan into action early.

“Ms. Booth, with all due respect, he needs a nice peaceful place to recover before he’s eased back into his life."

“I can give him that. I’m grateful for all that you and the staff here have done for him. But I think his mental health is important too, and he isn’t happy here.”

Dr. Gable isn’t thrilled with the idea. “Oliver, is that what you want to do?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll still be leaving against medical advice, and I’ll need both of your signatures confirming that. But I’ll arrange for you to be treated through our outpatient program. You won’t be able to fill your prescriptions until tomorrow so I’d strongly recommend you remain until we can get things in order in the morning.”

“I will. Thank you,” Oliver replies.

As soon as the doctor leaves, Oliver takes a deep breath, and his shoulders drop a little. He’s the picture of relief.

“Does your head hurt?” I ask.

“No, I’m just tired.”

“Well, you’ve had a busy day giving the staff hell and fighting your way out of here,” I tease.

He looks up at me and a tiny grin cracks his lips. “Thank you, Ella. For everything. I know I have to be interrupting your life.”

He stands up and I pull him into a hug. “You aren’t interrupting anything. I think this will be good for both of us. My house is too lonely. Plus, I live in the neighborhood we grew up in, across the street from your childhood home. When you’re ready, we can visit some places you used to go and see if that helps your memory.”

Freya enters with Oliver’s nighttime meds. “We’re going to miss you around here, but I think you’re in good hands.”

She stays to chat with us for a few minutes. Once I’m sure Oliver is okay and isn’t going to dart out the door like an escaped cat, I promise to be back early in the morning and start home. Suddenly, I have a ton of things to do.

CHAPTER 16

Oliver has been in a much better mood since I picked him up from the rehabilitation center a few days ago. Tori and Paul are a huge help to both of us. They volunteer to stay with Oliver when I work or have to run errands that are too overwhelming for him. I manage to reschedule all my client’s appointments to the mornings so that I can be with Oliver most of the day. It works out since both Tori and Paul work evenings.

My guest room is now Oliver’s and he seems comfortable here. I drop him off at the rehabilitation center three mornings a week for cognitive and physical therapy before heading to work. If I’m still working, Tori picks him up afterward, around noon, and they have lunch at my house while waiting for me to return.

It’s just past one when I get home today to find the three of them laughing in the kitchen. Paul sits at the table beside Oliver while Tori stands at the stove.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” I ask, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

Oliver’s lips tilt up. “Ask Tori. Paul is in trouble.”

“I’m a grown man. I don’t get in trouble.” Paul scoffs. Tori gives him a look and he scoots his chair farther away. “I warned you I didn’t like kids.”

Tori points the tongs in her hand at him. “That doesn’t mean you get to embarrass me like that.” She regards me. “Do you want a BLT? It’s almost ready.”

“No thanks, I ate.” Dropping my voice conspiratorially, I lean over the table. “What did you do?”

Tori leans against the stove. “I’ll tell you what he did. I had an appointment at the dentist and I made the mistake of taking him with me.”

“I was there for moral support!”

“It was a cleaning!”

Oliver watches them with amusement and munches on a potato chip.

“Anyway,” Tori continues. “There was a couple in there who had two kids with them. Toddlers. They weren’t really watching them, and they were getting into everything. I had to guard my purse when the boy went for it. The little girl kept trying to untie Paul’s shoe for some reason. They were a couple of terrors. Finally, the mother looks up from her phone long enough to come over to get her once she started trying to climb on Paul’s lap. Tell her what you said, Paul.”

Paul holds up his hands and shakes his head, biting back a smile.

“He looks at the mother and goes, ‘Aw, what cute babies. I’m not usually allowed within twenty-five feet of one.’”

“Oh my god.” Water almost makes its way out of my nose and Oliver covers his mouth, his shoulders shaking.

“The mother snatched both kids up, moved to the opposite end of the waiting room and guarded them like we might steal them.”

“That’s awful,” I laugh. “And genius.”

Tori rolls her eyes at me before setting a BLT in front of Oliver, and another on Paul’s plate. “Don’t encourage him.”

Paul shrugs and picks up the sandwich. “It always works.”

Tori spins around and stares at him. “Always? You’ve done it before?”

Paul’s eyes dart back and forth. “I…may have misspoke.”

Tori grabs her sandwich and sits next to me. “You’re home early.”

“My client went into labor. We rescheduled to do newborn photos in a few weeks. Also never bring your boyfriend to my studio."

Everyone laughs, and it’s good to see Oliver joining in. I’m confident I made the right decision bringing him here.

Once Tori and Paul leave, I ask Oliver if he feels up to a little walk. “There’s a place I want to show you that might trigger some memories.”

“Yes, let’s go.”

When we step outside, I point out the house across the street. “I told you that you grew up in that house. It’s vacant right now. The new owner rents it out usually. I called them to see if maybe we could get the keys to look around. I’m waiting on them to call back.”

He nods, staring at his childhood home. “I don’t recognize it.”

“It’s okay. When we were kids, we spent a lot of time at our treehouse. I thought we could start there.”

It’s a warm, sunny day and walking into the woods feels like stepping back in time. The smell of the trees, the soft ground under my feet. Our old trail has faded and become overgrown with disuse, but I could find my way blindfolded.

We remain silent, listening to the birds and the wind through the trees. Our hike is purposefully slow. Not only because I don’t want to wear Oliver out. He needs time to soak in the surroundings. Who knows what sight or sound might bring everything flooding back.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Oliver murmurs.

“It is. It’s just a little patch of woods between the subdivision and the highway, but it was the best place in the world to us. Especially here.” I gesture up to the treehouse that still sits in the sprawling oak.

Right after Alden and I moved back into the neighborhood, we came to see if it was still standing. He was thrilled to find it in decent shape. I can see the grin he wore as he looked up at it and his voice echoes in my head. “I’m going to fix it up for our kids.”

“Ella? Are you okay?” Oliver asks.

“I’m fine. There are a lot of memories here.” I wipe my welling eyes and walk toward the treehouse. “We spent so many summers together here. You, me, Alden and Tori.”

He nods and tests the ladder, then climbs up cautiously, poking his head through the bottom of the treehouse to look around. “I don’t think it’s sturdy enough to hold my weight.”

“That’s okay. Just have a look around. What’s still in there?”

“Some crates and a bunch of empty bottles. Beer mostly.”

“Guess the local teenagers know about it.”

“Looks like it.” He stays up there for a couple of minutes while I lean against the tree, trying not to get dragged down by the memories. It may not trigger anything for Oliver, but it sure does for me.

“Do you remember anything?”

He climbs back down. “No, it doesn’t feel like I’ve ever been here.”

We’re already out here, we may as well go a little farther before giving up. “Let’s go to the creek.”

“There’s a creek?”

He follows me when I start through the woods again. “We used to wade and sometimes swim there, though it never got very deep. There were lots of frogs. You and Alden used to come and catch minnows for your dad to use as bait.”

It’s smaller than I remember it. The creek is shallow due to our lack of rain lately. It’s amazing how much a place can hurt. All I feel here is Alden.

I sit down on the bank and Oliver sits beside me. Both of us are lost in thought, taking in the peaceful setting.

He takes his shoes off and sticks his feet in the water. “It’s scary,” he says. “Knowing there are all these thoughts and memories hiding in my head and I might never find them. And some of it makes no sense. Like I knew how to use my phone, and what the bottom of the creek would feel like on my feet, but not that any of this existed.”

“I can’t imagine how awful that feels. Don’t get discouraged. We have a lot of places to see and people for you to meet when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready. I’m ready to do whatever is necessary to remember who I am.” He busies his hands by picking up a stick and dipping it into the creek, drawing patterns along the surface. “I know the doctors said it would be better for me to recall some things on my own, but will you tell me about my family? I know how they died, but not much else.”

“You and Alden were close to your mom. You both helped and supported her as much as she’d allow. Your dad left when you were twelve, and she raised you on her own. She loved you very much. She used to call you Ollie.”

A slight smile flirts with his lips. “Do you have a picture of her?”

“I do. At home. She was beautiful.”

“You said my dad left us. When did he come back?”

“A few years ago, when your mom died. You kept in touch with him over the years, but I don’t know what your relationship was like. You didn’t talk about it because it upset Alden. I know he loved you. He stayed by your side as long as he could when you were in the coma.”

“Were Alden and I close?”

A million memories flash through my head of the two of them growing up. “You fought like all brothers do and had times that you both distanced yourselves a little. You were very different from each other, especially as teenagers. You were the good twin. You did great in school, you were responsible, smart. Alden was wild. A partier, and a risk taker. It made you bump heads more than once but there was no one Alden loved more than you. And you loved him the same.”

“I hate that I can’t remember them.” He sighs and puts his shoes back on. “Or me.” Standing up, he throws the stick into the water and watches it get carried away. “Was I happy?”

“You’ve had a few rough years, too. You broke up with a girlfriend about a year ago, the same time you found out your father had cancer and was terminal.” I pull out my phone and get up to stand beside him. “But you and Alden had become closer, and you built Stokes Brothers into a very successful business.” He watches while I sweep my finger across my phone screen until I find a picture of him and Alden standing under the Stokes Brothers sign. Their arms are slung around each other, and they wear identical wide smiles.

The sight of it sends a spike through me. I remember that day so well. Alden had just made Oliver an equal partner and owner. Pride shone in their faces. We had all went out to celebrate, including Breanna. My night ended with a long, slow fuck where Alden had me begging to come.

He takes the phone from me to study the picture, and I swallow back the lump in my throat. “Yes, I think you were happy.”

After a moment, he asks, “Which one is me?”

It strikes me how awful this has to be for him. It must be that much odder to see a face you can’t recognize on someone else as well. “You’re on the right.” Forcing a smile, I add, “You wouldn’t have been caught dead in ragged jeans and a faded tee shirt. Your style was much neater.”

He hands the phone back to me and we start our hike back through the woods. We’re both quiet until we get back to my house. “Are you tired?” He’s had physical therapy today and now a walk through the woods.

“No, I’m okay.”

His smile is half-hearted. Something occurs to me that might cheer him up but not be too taxing. We spent a lot of evenings by the firepit out back before. Alden and I always kept the ingredients for s’mores on hand because Oliver always wanted to make them when we’d have a bonfire. “Do you feel up to going to the grocery store with me?”

“Sure. I’d like some pudding. The rehab got me hooked on it.”

Once we’re in my car and almost to the store, he asks, “The robbers took my credit cards and everything, didn’t they?”

“They did. But the cards have been cancelled. They didn’t get a chance to charge anything or get into your money.”

He nods. “I want to get new cards. You can’t keep paying for my stuff.”

“Don’t worry about that. I get Alden’s half of the profits from the bike shop plus what I make at my studio. I’m not hurting.”

“That’s not the point. I can’t work or live alone or drive. But I can support myself.” There’s an edge to his voice when he adds, “I’m not completely fucking helpless.”

He is tired. Mentally, if not physically. The first sign is always that irritability. I’m going to make this grocery trip quick. “I know that. Why don’t we go to your shop this week? You’ll need your account numbers to get the cards re-issued, and your paperwork will be in your apartment.”

He nods and stares out the window while I find a parking space. I’ve chosen the small grocery store I know he often frequented. His eyes dart around while we make our way inside. “Are you okay? Do you recognize something?”

“No.” His curt answer could be to either question, but it doesn’t matter. I’m watching his mood plummet.

“Okay, pudding first,” I reply, keeping my tone cheerful. He follows me to the middle of the aisle. While he peruses the selection, he rubs one of his temples. After he chooses a package of pudding cups, we find the cookie aisle where I grab some graham crackers. We already have a few chocolate bars, so after picking up a bag of marshmallows, it’s time to check out.

The front of the store is a bit of a madhouse. Four registers are open, but each has quite a long line. A toddler right in front of us suddenly screeches, and Oliver jerks, almost dropping the pudding he’s carrying. The kid hits the floor and keeps screaming. His mother responds by yelling at him. Someone bumps into Oliver’s shoulder as they pass with a mumbled “excuse me.”

Oliver’s hand clamps onto my arm, and I look up into wide eyes. He’s breathing hard. Shit. I shouldn’t have brought him here. It’s too much.

“Okay, it’s okay,” I tell him. “This way.” He stays right with me, holding on while I lead us to the opposite end where the self-checkouts are. There are far fewer people. I choose one as far away from the others as possible.

As quickly as I can manage, I scan our few items and toss them into a bag. “We’re almost done,” I assure him, jamming my card into the reader. “Take a deep breath.”

“I’m alright,” he says, but the tremble in his voice says otherwise.

Finally, the card is approved, and I snatch up our bag. We get about three steps when a man blocks our path.

“Oliver!” he shouts, a huge smile on his face. He looks vaguely familiar, but it takes me a second to realize who it is. Caleb Jackson, one of Oliver’s high school friends. “It’s good to see you out and about, man! I’ve been meaning to come visit you. I’m sorry about your brother.”

Caleb claps his hand onto Oliver’s shoulder at the same time the intercom blares to life to announce another checkout has been opened. Before I can do anything, Oliver shoves him away. Hard. Caleb stumbles back into a display of candy. It topples and the colorful packages spray across the floor.

All eyes are on us which just makes everything worse. I reach for Oliver’s hand, but he’s gone. Frantic, I look around and spot him darting across the front of the store. With his head down and fists clenched, he rushes out the doors.

Fuck.

The exclamations and comments from the people around us bounce off of me while I run to catch up to him. He’s rounding the side of the building instead of going to the car. How panicked is he? Is he going to run off?

Relief lets me breathe when I turn the corner and spot him. With one hand pressed against the stone wall, he bends over and vomits into the grass. His body shakes like he’s been dipped in ice water.

“Oliver,” I say softly, careful not to startle him. He turns and braces himself against the wall, leaning over and putting his hands on his knees. His breaths are quick and shallow.

When he’s like this, there isn’t much I can do but stay beside him. I rub his back lightly while his breathing starts to even out a little. “Can you walk with me? I have some water in the car.”

He nods and remains right beside me while we cross the lot. There are napkins in my console, and I hand him a bottle of water. After he rinses out his mouth a couple of times and wipes his mouth, he closes his door.

“Do you still feel sick? We can sit here for as long as you need.”

“No, I want to go home, please.” His eyes close and he lays his head back, taking measured breaths.

“Okay.”

I feel so bad. He’s pale and shaking. His eyes remain shut until we pull into my driveway. Once we’re inside, he makes a beeline for the kitchen cabinet where his meds are kept. I watch to make sure he grabs the correct bottle. It’s a mild sedative that he uses on the worst days.

After he washes it down, he starts toward the stairs.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken you there when it was crowded.”

“It’s not your fault. I should be able to go to the damn grocery store,” he snaps. “I need to be alone for a while.”

“I’m here if you need me.”

He nods and retreats upstairs to his room.

With a sigh, I put the puddings in the refrigerator. S’mores will have to wait until another night. Poor guy. It’s so frustrating. Two steps forward, and one step back.

After his anxiety attack in the grocery store, I wasn’t sure whether Oliver would want to go anywhere for a while, but he’s waiting for me to take him to his shop when I get home from work the next day.

He doesn’t hesitate until we pull up in front of Stokes Brothers. “If this is too much today, we can wait. I can run in and find your bank stuff.”

“No, I’m good.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“I know everyone is a stranger to you, but these guys are your friends. This was a place you were happy. It’s safe here.”

I’ve called ahead to talk to Milo so they know not to overwhelm him with noise or expect him to remember them. They visited when he was in the hospital, and again in rehab, but he didn’t really want any visitors then other than Tori and me.

He nods and accompanies me up to the door. The scent that strikes me when we step inside brings Alden back to me instantly. Oliver isn’t the only one who spent a lot of time here. Alden could be a workaholic when he was excited about what he was working on. More times than I can count, I’ve come through this door to bring him lunch or dinner. I can still see him, sitting on the ground, grime up his arms to his elbows. He was so lost in concentration he didn’t see me until I called his name, but his smile when he looked up and saw me was everything. God, his smile.

“Look who’s here!” Hudson calls, tearing me out of my reverie. He walks up with a wide smile and looks at Oliver. “You look a lot better. How are you doing?”

“Glad to be out of the hospital,” Oliver says. “Thanks.”

“Still don’t remember me?” Hudson asks as Milo joins us.

Milo shoves him aside. “No, that’s what amnesia is, you idiot. Why would he want to remember your ugly ass anyway?” Before Hudson can argue, Milo regards Oliver. “It’s great to see you. We miss you around here.”

“Thanks,” Oliver says awkwardly.

Milo steps up and hugs me. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m getting there. Some days are hard, you know.”

“Afraid I do,” he agrees.

“Okay, don’t let us pull you away from work. We’re going to grab some things from Oliver’s apartment.”

“Smith is back in the office. He has some tax paperwork he needs a signature on.” He smiles at Oliver. “Want me to show you around a little while she deals with that? You’ll love this Bobber we’re working on. You tracked down most of the parts and we finally got them in.”

“No idea what a Bobber is, but yeah, sure.”

Oliver follows Milo down to one of the bays while I head back to the office. Smith grins up at me from the desk. “There you are. Where’s Oliver?”

“Milo is showing him around.”

Smith gestures to a chair for me to sit. “I can’t imagine walking into your own home and business and not recognizing it. I’d be in a constant panic.”

“It’s hard for him. That’s why we’re here. Hopefully, being in a place he spent a lot of time will trigger his memory. I’ve arranged for us to tour the house he grew up in next week. The owners were happy to help once they found out why we wanted to see it.”

Smith digs through some papers while we chat. “Is that the plan? Take him to as many familiar places as possible?”

“It’s all I know to do. He’s working with a cognitive therapist too.”

Smith looks me in the eye. “Alden would be happy that you’re taking care of him. And proud.”

A sudden rush of emotion threatens to make me cry for the millionth time. “I hope so. Milo said you needed my signature?”

“Oh, yes.” He hands me a sheet of paper. “I hired the accountant we discussed to do the taxes. He needs either your signature or Oliver’s on this before it can be filed.”

After I sign the paper and hand it back, he asks, “Any news from the detectives?”

“Not since they caught Connor Warren. He’s being held and they’re still looking for his cousin. The detective warned me these things move slow. Even if they catch him, the trials could be a year away.”

“They should execute them in the street and be done with it.”

“I’d be good with that.” The hate I feel for the men who took my Alden and left Oliver with half a life is stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced.

Smith gets up and we start for the door. “This place isn’t the same without them.”

“Nothing is,” I agree, following him out to the repair bays.

Oliver squats down beside a bike while Milo points at something. They appear deep in conversation. He spent more time with these guys than with me the last few years. Maybe they’ll be the key to rattling something loose in his memory. At least he doesn’t seem too nervous here.

I give him a little wave and gesture to the stairs leading to his apartment, letting him know where I’ll be. He nods and goes back to listening to Milo while Smith joins them.

I’ve been here a couple of times now to get things for Oliver, but I haven’t had to search for anything. It’ll be easier to get his bank and credit cards re-issued if we have his statements with the account information. The pile of old mail on the kitchen table contains a statement from his bank, but not from either of his credit cards.

While I’m searching, I pause by the big windows that look down onto the shop. Oliver wears a small smile while the guys stand around him, gesturing to the bike and talking. How many times have I come here and witnessed this same scene. All the guys gathered around some motorcycle like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Except there’s an empty spot in the circle. Alden should be here. It’s so fucking unfair.

I resume my search and end up in the bedroom. It’s doubtful that he’d keep bank info in here, but I’ve looked everywhere else. His dresser is all clothes. I hesitate at the drawer of the nightstand. Knowing most men, there’s probably lube and condoms, not anything important, but it’s the only place I haven’t looked.

The piece of paper I pull out is the last thing I expected to find. There’s no stopping the tears from filling my eyes at the sight of the drawing. It’s a caricature I surprised Alden with years ago, right after we got back together.

“Hey,” Oliver says, standing in the doorway. I didn’t even hear him come in. “Did you find what we needed?”

“Um…not everything.”

“What’s that?” He walks over while I take a seat on the side of the bed.

“A drawing I gave to Alden. I’m not sure why it’s here. Maybe he left it or something.” My fingers trace over the lines while I recall his laugh when I told him how I’d had it done. It makes me smile.

Oliver grins at it when I hand it to him. “It’s goofy.”

“It is. You actually posed for it.”

He raises his eyebrows and sits beside me.

“A few years ago, Alden was supposed to meet me, you, and Tori at the fair. Alden ended up being super late because he got held up at work, and we weren’t sure he was going to show up at all. I was disappointed because there was this caricaturist there and I wanted us to get our picture drawn together. Then Tori had the idea to let you stand in for him. We showed the artist Alden’s picture, and told her to make the hair longer, swap the clothes for jeans and a tee shirt.

“It was hilarious. You started pretending to be him, copying the way he talked and everything while she worked. We had a great time.” I look down at the two exaggerated versions of Alden and I. The man had drawn him with hearts coming out of his eyes and his jaw open like a cartoon character. Another airbrushed heart frames us both with True Love written around it.

“I gave it to him as a gift. He swore he was going to frame it and hang it in the office here, but he must’ve misplaced it or forgotten.” It doesn’t make sense why it’d be in Oliver’s nightstand, but I suppose it doesn’t matter now.

“You should take it home,” Oliver says.

Nodding, I get up and take a deep breath. We came here to travel down Oliver’s memory lane not mine. “I will. How was the tour with the guys? I saw you checking out one of the motorcycles.”

His chuckle is bitter. “I didn’t have a clue about anything he was showing me. I felt like an idiot. I couldn’t have found my way to the bathroom. I sure as fuck don’t know my way around a bike anymore.”

“You’ll get there. It’s going to take time.”

He gets up and paces the room. “It’s been months since I woke up. Something should be coming back.” He runs a hand through his hair. “This is my place? I wouldn’t even know it if you hadn’t told me. You could take me to any house and call it mine. I hate this.”

“I know. It’s going to come back, Oliver. I swear, we’re not going to give up.”

CHAPTER 17

Oliver’s frustration understandably grows over the next few weeks. Almost every day after he gets out of physical therapy and I get off work, we go somewhere to try to trigger his memory. Even walking around his childhood home and showing him where he and Alden carved their names in a beam in the attic does nothing to remind him. Tori has also taken him a few places. To his old college, and a card shop where he used to spend a lot of time playing Dungeons and Dragons.

Physically, he’s getting better. He hasn’t had any seizures and his migraines are getting fewer, but I’m afraid he’s losing hope. Some days, I feel the same way. It’s hard not to.

He’s in a bad mood when we get home today from visiting his old apartment complex. Like everything else, he couldn’t remember anything about it, or which apartment he’d lived in.

We spend a lot of the evenings watching TV in the living room or sitting outside, but he goes straight to his room when we get home. A couple of hours later, I hear him call my name.

His room is pitch dark and he covers his eyes when I open his door. “I need a pain pill. Please. And the sedative.”

“Hang on. I’ll be right back.” He must be in a lot of pain. He can take both of those pills at once, but he usually doesn’t. They knock him out cold.

I return with the pills, a bottle of water, and an ice pack for his head. Once a migraine has a grip on him, there’s not much that helps. The light is his enemy, so I only leave the door open a small crack to let me see without tripping. He sits up enough to swallow both pills, then lies flat again. His hands press against his temples.

“My head feels like it’s going to explode. I can’t take this.”

It tears at my heart to hear him in pain. I push the door shut, dipping the room in blackness again, then sit beside him on the bed. “I’ve got you.” A malleable gel ice pack is one of the few things that helps take the edge off. He lets out a little moan when I lay it across his forehead.

“I should’ve known it was coming and took a pill earlier when my sight was messing up. Like looking through a damn kaleidoscope.”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Can you just stay a few minutes?”

I take his hand and lean back against the headboard. “I’m right here.”

He squeezes my hand, and we sit in the darkness, waiting for the pills to kick in.

“Maybe we’re doing too much,” I suggest. “Pushing you too hard on top of your other therapies. You should take a couple of days to rest.”

“No, I need to keep trying.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re stubborn as hell?”

He snorts out a laugh and his hand jerks to his head to catch the pain. “Look who’s talking.”

“Okay, but we’ll go somewhere relaxing tomorrow. A park you used to go to. We can get some lunch and take it easy.”

“That sounds good.” His words are starting to slur. “I’m scared it might not ever come back. I might never know who I am.”

There’s no way I’d admit it, but I’m starting to fear the same thing. “Then I’ll help you figure out who you are all over again. You’re going to be okay.”

I’m not sure if he hears me or will remember if he does. The next sound out of him is a light snore. I stay for a few more minutes to make sure he’s really out before going to my room.

Loneliness is heavy in me tonight. It’s always worse once the day is over and there’s nothing to distract me. Despite how challenging it’s been, having Oliver here to focus on has helped me too. Just knowing someone else is in the house is enough sometimes.

When I get in from work, Oliver sits on the edge of his bed. His gaze reaches out of the window, and he looks lost in his thoughts.

“Hey.” The small smile he gives me when I sit next to him is wrapped in heaviness. “We don’t have to go today if you aren’t feeling up to it. If you’re tired…”

“I’m not tired. I want to go. I’m just preparing myself. I don’t want to be disappointed if the place is brand new to me. I keep getting my hopes up that something will click, and everything will make sense again.”

His sadness is worse than his anger. It feels cruel to keep introducing him to a life he can’t recall. “I know. Let’s go grab some lunch. What would you like?”

“Something greasy sounds good.”

“We can do that.”

King Chicken was one of his favorite fast food places before and it’s near the park, making it an obvious choice. It’s past lunchtime but the place is still pretty busy when we pull into the lot. The drive-thru bears a sign that says the speaker is down and to order inside.

He seems anxious at the sight of the line. “Do you want to wait in the car?”

He shakes his head, but steps closer to me once we approach all the people. Instinctively, I take his hand, and he squeezes mine as we wait in line for our food. He’s quiet while we get our order and during the drive to a nearby park.

We choose an empty picnic table beside the pond and settle in to eat. Oliver looks around, taking in his surroundings. It’s a beautiful place, especially drenched in the afternoon sunlight. Trees rise around us, emanating the smell of pine. A steady wind presses the water into tiny rolling waves at the shore, raising ripples that catch the sunshine and release it as diamonds. Ducks swim nearby, calling out while bobbing for food.

“I’ve been here before?” Oliver asks.

“Does it feel familiar?” Keeping the hope out of my voice isn’t easy.

“No, but I like it.”

“We used to come here a lot as teenagers.” I gesture toward a gnarled tree across the pond. “Alden climbed to the top of that tree once. It wasn’t nearly as tall then, of course, but it was still treacherous. You kept trying to warn him the top branches wouldn’t hold him.”

Oliver smiles and munches on a french fry. “Let me guess. He didn’t listen?”

“Nope. A branch at the top broke and he fell. He didn’t break any bones, but the wind was knocked out of him. He laid there with his eyes like saucers, croaking like a frog. Scared the shit out of me.”

Our laughter frightens away a curious duck that was probably hoping for crumbs. “How old was he?”

“About fourteen.” After our first kiss. After I loved him.

This time it’s Oliver who comforts me with a squeeze of my hand. “You don’t like talking about him. I’m sorry.”

“No. I mean, it hurts, but I need to talk about him. To keep him alive. I don’t want to forget.” The words spill out before I can think, and I turn to Oliver, who only grins. “Sorry, I—”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Ella. You lost him. I’m not the only one hurting.”

Nodding, I let the memories seep in. “We cut school once and met up here. You, me, Alden, Tori and Caleb—the guy who recognized you in the grocery store. We were having a great time until someone reported us, and a cop showed up. We scattered. It was only one officer, and he wasn’t too concerned with catching a bunch of truants, but he still chased after us.”

Giggles spill out of me. “The four of us stuck together but Alden…” I shake my head. “They used to have pedal boats here shaped like big swans. He jumped into one and started pedaling like crazy.”

I can still hear his laugh among the rustling of the trees as if it were caught in the leaves. Maybe it is. Snared in a forest of memory where some things are whispered forever.

Oliver grins, leaning on his elbows. “Was the officer mad?”

“He was. He kept yelling and ordering him to come back.”

“What did Alden do?”

“Started singing a sea shanty.”

Oliver cracks up. “He was funny, wasn’t he?”

“Your brother was the funniest man I ever knew.” Funny and wild and sweet. A combination that’s so rare.

“What happened next?”

“He waved to us once we made it to the top of that hill.” Oliver’s gaze follows my pointed finger. “The fencing wasn’t there back then. He was telling us to go while he kept the cop busy.” I feel my mouth turn up into a smile. “We didn’t want to leave him but that was why he’d done it, so we could get away. He didn’t care if he got caught.”

“Did he get away?”

“No, we were all back at my house when a squad car pulled up in front about an hour later. We watched from my window while the cop turned him over to your mom. He was wild then, and no stranger to having the police bring him home. He somehow made it without ever being arrested, though.”

Those days sometimes feel like they happened to someone else. In a way, I suppose they did. We’ve all changed so much.

“Lucky little bastard, huh?” Oliver teases, and the little half smile he flashes looks so familiar it brings tears to my eyes.

“He really was.”

His head tilts. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” What else can I say? That sometimes looking at the face he shares with the love of my life is pure torture, yet I’ve never been so grateful for him being a twin? Because I still get to see Alden’s face in more than photographs.

It’s confusing. The last thing Oliver needs is more confusion.

“Did I ever do anything crazy?”

“You weren’t afraid to get into a little trouble, cutting school occasionally, but you weren’t wild. You were the level headed one, the smart one everyone could count on. I’m sure you got him out of trouble more than once when you were kids.”

Oliver sips his drink. “I sound really boring.”

“You weren’t. You just liked different things. We always had a lot of fun together. You were a good influence on Alden as an adult too. You’re the reason he invited your father to our wedding.” The doctors wanted him to recall things about himself naturally, but it’s hard to see him struggle with his identity. There’s one thing that’s important for him to know.

“When your father told you he had a year to live, you took him on his dream trip. For almost a month, you helped him cross things off his bucket list. You’re a good person. A good man. That’s who you are, Oliver.”

His smile is shy. “That’s good to know.”

We finish our food and spend the afternoon walking around the park, feeding the ducks, and watching kids play at the playground. Oliver seems lost in thought for most of it, and once we get back home, he excuses himself and retreats to his room until late in the evening.

I’m running out of ideas on places to take him to jog his memory. It’s wearing on both of us. I know he had friends that he hung out with before but they’re people I don’t know. He had his own life outside of his brother and me. It’s not something I can reintroduce him to. Those friends had to have seen what happened to him, though, and none ever showed up at the hospital or the shop to check on him. Maybe he’s better off.

There’s one idea that I’ve put off because I wasn’t ready, but I’m not sure what else to try, so I pull out the box of pictures that’s tucked into the corner of my closet. It contains years of memories, most of them from my childhood.

The ones from our late teens are mostly stored on the cloud, but I have a ton of prints from our earlier years. I take the box downstairs to the living room, then tap on Oliver’s door to ask him to join me.

He’s seems reluctant, especially once he understands my intentions for dragging out the photos. “Does your head hurt?” I ask, as he sits down beside me on the couch.

“No, I’m fine.”

“We’ll work our way backward.” I mirror my phone to the TV, so we don’t need to hand it back and forth and go to my albums. It’s hard to see the most recent pictures since they were taken near the wedding day that never happened. But it seems logical that he’d remember more recent things first.

The first picture on the screen is the one I took in the yard not even an hour before they ended up in that convenience store. Dressed in tuxes, Alden and Oliver stand in the yard with their arms slung around each other.

“This is the last picture I have of you two together.”

Oliver stares at it for a moment. “Whose car is that?”

The sports car Alden insisted I get in the picture shines in the background. “It was a rental. You surprised him with it for his wedding day. It made him so happy. He was like a little kid, excited to get behind the wheel.”

Someday, when it doesn’t tear my heart out to look at it, I’ll have that picture framed. Painful or not, it’s a reminder of how overjoyed he was to be on his way to our wedding. How much he loved me.

I swipe to bring up another photo. “This was at your college graduation party.” Oliver poses with a group of guys, beers in hand. “I wasn’t there. Alden sent it to me. I’m sorry I don’t know any of the guys’ names. Any of them look familiar to you?”

His lips thin while he studies it. “No.”

“This one is all of us by the firepit out back on my sixteenth birthday. The guy with Tori is Sawyer. He’s a police officer now.” There’s no reason to mention that he’s the cop who called and gave us the terrible news.

We spend over an hour flicking through the photos while I describe what’s happening. He asks a few questions but gets quieter as we go.

“Let’s look at some of these,” I suggest, opening the box. “As a kid, I loved taking pictures and dad used to buy me a new disposable camera every few weeks. Look, here’s our treehouse back then.”

He takes the picture from me, nods at it, then sets it on the table. “Here’s one of you and Alden with your mom.” It wasn’t too long after their father had left.

He runs his finger over it. “How old was I?”

“Twelve.”

The pile of photos on the table grows as we make our way through them. My past and his, intertwined and caught in numerous still moments. I hand him a picture of the four of us, taken at one of my parents’ bonfire parties my freshman year.

“They used to have a party every fall. You always came. We played games and laughed at the adults that got too drunk. You loved to make s’mores back then too. That’s why I thought maybe eating them by the bonfire might trigger something.”

“It didn’t.”

“I know.”

Oliver stares at that picture then slaps it down on the table. “I don’t remember.” He gets to his feet and snaps, “And I don’t fucking recognize anyone!”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” he shouts, dragging his hands through his hair. “It’s not fucking okay!”

Keeping my voice calm, I stand up to face him. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to look at anymore. I just wanted—”

“I know what you want. You want me to remember, but it’s not going to fucking happen! You want to get back to your life. I don’t want to be your problem either. I hate it as much as you do!”

His outburst shocks me. “Oliver…”

“I can’t do this right now.” He storms off and the door to his room slams behind him.

My tears fall on a picture of the four of us when we were around twelve years old. Look at us, so young and full of dreams. Those were good days. When I used to wake to the sound of my father’s radio always playing. Bounding down the stairs, bubbling with excitement, and rushing out filled with joy at the long, warm days of summer stretched out in front of me.

With a sigh, I gather up the photos and return them to the box. I’m tempted to go check on Oliver, but it’s best to leave him alone when he’s angry. Instead, I turn on some music and keep myself busy by straightening up the house then taking a shower. When I’ve killed as much time as possible, I get ready for bed.

I miss Alden tonight. When things were hard, his arms were the only place I wanted to be and that hasn’t changed.

I’m failing his brother. It’s not like I thought bringing Oliver here would solve all his problems, but I thought I could help. That being in familiar places was what he needed to get his memory back.

It’s not working. He’s miserable.

After I turn out the light, leaving the room dim, the sight of the small box I tossed on the dresser weeks ago catches my attention. It contains Oliver and Alden’s personal effects the cops returned to me. I haven’t looked inside, but I know what’s in it. Their empty wallets, two sets of keys, Oliver’s busted phone. Things the robbers had no interest in. Assuming it isn’t damaged or bloody, I could give Oliver his wallet back.

I open the box and Alden’s wallet lies on top. The sight of it instantly puts a lump in my throat. All I can see is the way he used to reach back to pull it out of his pocket. It always sat on his side of the dresser alongside the keyring of keys I pull out next. My fingers run over the familiar keys to his motorcycle, my studio, his shop, our front and back doors.

Oliver’s keyring is there too. I place it on top of his wallet. He’ll want those back. I’m not sure why they bothered to return the phone. It’s destroyed. It occurs to me that the SD card might hold some pictures if it isn’t too damaged. It gets set aside to look at later.

One last thing sits in the bottom of the box. One small thing that rips a cry out of my throat as soon as I recognize it.

The metal disc is worn shiny as if his fingers spent hours rubbing over it.

Kiss it for luck.

It’s been years since I’ve seen the flattened coin he picked up from the railroad tracks ten years ago. I remember wondering if he still had his, but it slipped my mind again before I could ask.

I can see him standing in front of me when we were barely adults. Telling me it wasn’t the end, only a pause.

Kiss it for luck.

He must’ve had it in his tuxedo pocket. He wanted it with him for our wedding.

“Tell me how I got so fucking lucky, El.”

My jewelry box tips over in my rush to snatch the mated coin out of it. I squeeze the coins together in my fist and press it against the sharp pain that’s filled the empty spot in my chest. My legs fold under me as sobs rack my body.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore. Goddamn you, Alden. Look how you’ve left me. Look how you loved me. It’s too much. It hurts too much.

The sound of my bedroom door opening barely registers. I can’t feel the hard dresser against my back or the floor under me. There’s only the bone deep agony of missing him. An arm slides around my shoulders, and I turn to bury my face in Oliver’s neck.

“I’ve got you,” he says softly. The same words I’ve told him more than once.

He holds me while I cry until I have no tears left, and I lean my head against his shoulder. “I miss him.”

He rubs my back. The simple touch of affection is comforting. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Guilt fills me when I confess. “Sometimes, I’m jealous that you can’t remember. There are times I wish I could forget everything for a day. I know that’s horrible, to want to forget someone who loved me so much.”

“No, it’s understandable. You’re in pain that you can’t see an end to. You don’t really want to forget him. You want a break from that agony. I can relate.” He rubs my arm. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you when you’re trying to help me. I get frustrated and it pisses me off, but I shouldn’t take it out on you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’m trying to remember. I promise. I’m trying as hard as I can.”

His tone pleads with me to believe him, and it fills me with guilt. “Oliver, you don’t need to convince me of anything. I know how hard you’re working.”

“I feel like I’m disappointing you.”

Things are falling into a new perspective for me. I’ve been so focused on getting his memories back I never considered the quality of life he has now matters too. He’s had months of rehab and misery. Of me running him place to place desperately trying to jog his memory.

“You could never disappoint me. This isn’t about me, it’s about you getting your life back. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. Your days can’t be limited to trying to force your memories to return. And you aren’t a problem to me. You’re my family.” I sit up straight to stretch out a kink in my back. “What’s something you’d like to do? Something you’d enjoy?”

He shrugs, stands up, and takes my hand to pull me to my feet. “I’m not sure what I like. It kind of comes along with not knowing who I am. I have heard good things about sex. So, I’m game if you are.”

His teasing smile is illuminated by the slice of light through the bathroom door. It spreads across his face when I crack up laughing.

“Meh, it’s not all it’s made out to be. I don’t think you’d like it.”

“I’m not going to know if I don’t try new things,” he says in a lecturing tone.

“I could always look up one of your exes and ask. They’d be new to you again.”

He puts his hand over his heart. “Ouch. An amnesia burn. Ruthless.”

This is what he needs. What we both need. To laugh and joke and lighten things up. Some relief from the constant stress.

“I don’t have any appointments tomorrow. Let’s go out and have some fun.”

He agrees and hugs me before he heads off to bed. I feel better after crying and laughing. The coins are still in my hand, and I press my lips to them before putting them both into my jewelry box. “Goodbye,” I whisper.

I’m not only saying goodbye to Alden, the love of my life, but to us. How we were then. Who we were then. I have to leave us there. In this box. In the past.

There was always a choice to be made, sitting in front of me but buried in grief. I see it now. It’s either stay in this spot, grasping at someone who’s already gone, or let him go and learn to live without him.

I know which one Alden would want. I need to want it too.

“Bowling?” Oliver says, when I park outside of Last Pin Standing.

“You used to love to bowl. You and Alden were on a league with Milo for a while.” I stop him when we get to the double doors. “We’re here to have fun, not force any memories, okay? This isn’t even the bowling alley you used to go to.”

A smile inches across his face. “Got it.”

It’s early afternoon and the place is almost empty. A woman and her preschooler are playing on one lane, and an elderly couple have another. We get a lane and rent some shoes.

“This feels like a toe fungus waiting to happen,” Oliver chuckles while we change into them.

“We should’ve gone by your place. I’m sure you have bowling shoes. I know Alden did too. But then you would’ve missed out on these stylish kicks.” I stand up and model the godawful blocky colored shoes.

“Do you think they make them so ugly so no one will walk out with them?”

“I never thought of that. But, yeah, who in the world would trade their shoes for these?”

After we each choose a ball from the rack, I enter our names into the computer.

“Are you any good?” Oliver asks, when I pick up my ball to go first.

“I’m not great, but not terrible. I haven’t played in a long time.” He watches as I approach and throw the ball. Which goes into the gutter halfway down the aisle. “The first one doesn’t count.”

Oliver grins and nods to the screen above us. “The computer seems to think it does.”

My second throw manages to knock down four pins. Not off to a great start.

Oliver picks up his ball, stares at the alley for a moment, and then throws it. A few seconds later, the pins fly, and he turns around to grin at me. “Remind me what that’s called again? A strike? Is it a strike?” he taunts.

“Beginners luck!”

It’s not beginner’s luck. He goes on to prove that by wiping the damn floor with me in our first game. The second is going the same way. “It must be like riding a bike or swimming. It just comes back to you,” he says, after yet another strike. He turns to grin at me. “Well, to me, anyway.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

I flip him off and he laughs. He’s having fun and it’s good to see it bringing his personality out more. Shit talking was a Stokes boys pastime.

“Maybe we can borrow that little ramp and those things they’re using down there,” he says, gesturing to the lane with the preschool kid.

“I do not need bumpers!”

“Let me help you,” he says, taking my ball from me. “First, this ball is too heavy for you.” He goes to the rack and swaps it. “Try this.” He follows me when I approach the lane. His hands land softly on my sides, and they feel warm through my thin shirt. “You’re starting too close to the line. You need some room.”

My mouth suddenly feels dry as he walks me back a few steps. Still holding me, he says, "Now, line yourself up with the middle of the lane.”

I take a small step to the right, and he lets go of me.

“Good, keep your shoulders back.” He presses a palm between my shoulder blades, and the breath I draw is stuttering.

Why am I so aware of his hands on me?

After I correct my posture, he steps over to stand beside me. “Focus on those three center pins. Step with your right foot first and swing the ball back, then let it go after your next step.”

“Got it.”

“Ella.” He reaches over before I can move and lifts my chin with his fingers. When I meet his gaze, something stirs inside me. Wistful and deep. He feels it too. It’s in the way his lips part behind a controlled breath, and his eyes never leave mine. “Keep your head up.”

All I can manage is a small nod.

A smile inches across his face, and he steps back to watch me. My throw is much smoother than before because of his instructions, but not hard enough. It hits the pins and takes down six.

“See? Better, but throw it harder next time.”

My second throw goes right between the remaining pins, and I look back at him. He cracks up laughing. “I can show you how to throw but I’m not a miracle worker.”

“I want a rematch on the air hockey machine.”

“Whatever makes you feel better, El.”

His grin. It’s too much. I need a second to get my head right. “I’m going to the restroom. Be right back.”

I’m happy to find the women’s room empty. What the hell just happened? I’ve spent months with Oliver in much more intimate positions. I’ve held his hand and had his arms around me in the dark. I’ve laid beside him in his bed when he was hurting, when we were both hurting. Why did his hands on me this time feel different? More personal.

I’m turned on. Shame rolls through me at the realization. My nipples are hard under my bra and there’s an ache in the pit of my stomach I haven’t felt in a long time.

Leaning on the sink, I peek at myself in the mirror. My cheeks hold a slight flush, otherwise my turmoil isn’t visible.

Okay, get it together, Ella. Of course, you’re attracted to him. He and Alden have always been devastating to look at. It doesn’t mean anything. Other than my sex drive is waking back up and I need a new toy. Preferably a rechargeable one.

I splash some water on my face and take another moment to reassure myself that I’m not a monster lusting after my dead fiancé’s brother. It was a moment of human weakness. I need to stop freaking out and go have fun.

My pep talk seems to work. I return to our game, and after another stunning loss, we grab a drink from the concession stand then head into the game room. A couple are playing on one of the pool tables, but the air hockey one is open. Alden always used to swear I had superhuman reflexes when it came to this game because he couldn’t beat me no matter how hard he tried.

I feed a couple of dollars into the change machine, then dump the quarters on the edge of the table. “Now you’re in trouble.” The table hums to life, and I slide the puck over to Oliver. “I’ll let you start. Age before beauty.”

“Psh, we’re both pretty.” He hits the puck, trying to get it past me, but I’m ready. I hit it straight back and it goes into his goal.

“One,” I chirp.

“Oh, is that how it’s going to be?” He beams at me, retrieves the puck, and hits it again. This time it stays in play for a few moments. He’s learned to guard the center of his goal, so when it comes my way again, I bank it off the side of the table and into the edge of his goal.

“Two to zero.”

It only gets better as the game goes on. He gets a little better at guarding his goal, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t get it past me. It clanks into his goal slot again.

“Six to zero. One more and I win. Is this embarrassing?” I tease. “This seems embarrassing.”

“Nah, I’m brain damaged. I get a pass.”

“Oliver!”

He shrugs, displaying a wide grin that I can feel in my stomach. “You’re the one who’s gloating over beating a brain damaged man. You should really take a close look at yourself.” Before I can reply, he slings the puck across the table into my goal.

“You have to hit it! That doesn’t count!”

He nods to the little score screen that now shows one to six. “Seems to.”

“Alright, cheater,” I laugh, banking the puck off the side. He doesn’t get to it in time, and the machine shuts off once it falls into his goal. “I still win.”

It must be late enough for school to have let out because the place is starting to fill up with kids. A few loiter around waiting to play, so we let them have the table.

“This was fun,” Oliver says, as we walk out to the car. “We should do it again.”

“Absolutely. I’m going to sneak out in the middle of the night and learn to bowl.”

“I need a bowling shirt with Lightning printed on it. That’s my new nickname.”

“Lightning?” I repeat, getting into my car.

He holds up his arm and flexes it. “Because I throw nothing but strikes.”

“Wonderful,” I giggle. “Very modest.”

He gives me a smile full of teeth. “I’m the most modest.”

Today was obviously the right call. All this time I’ve been pushing him to remember. It’s time to let him live. Let him remember life can be fun. Otherwise, what’s the point?

CHAPTER 18

Oliver continues to go to his physical and cognitive therapies, but we don’t work on trying to trigger memories. Instead, we spend the evenings hanging out together. Sometimes at home, but we go out a lot too. It’s nice that we have our afternoons free because most places aren’t crowded while people are still at work. Over the next month, we visit an art museum, take walks along the river, and go bowling a few more times. Oliver accompanies me to my studio to see where I work and watches me do a photo shoot for an adorable newborn. His mood and mental health improve by the day.

Neither of us bring up that moment between us in the bowling alley, but I think about it. Too much sometimes. Especially those evenings when we sit in the dim living room watching TV. It feels…normal but somehow intimate, even when we’re on opposite sides of the couch. Something still pushes and pulls between us.

This afternoon, we spent some time discussing the Warrens, and whether offering a reward for the cousin they’re still hunting for might speed things up. As much as we’re trying to get on with things, both of us have so much anger. Sometimes, it’s hard to know what to do with it. Which is what gives me the idea for today’s activity.

“What is this place?” Oliver asks when I park in the lot of Smash and Bash.

“It’s called a rage room. It’s a place where you can pay to smash stuff.”

He accompanies me across the pavement. “We’re going to break stuff? Like what?”

“Whatever they have,” I reply with a shrug. “I’ve never been here before, but Tori said it’s a lot of fun. I figured we could both take out some frustration and anger.”

We’re greeted by a young woman named Josie who takes an extra second to run her gaze over Oliver before escorting us into a room full of protective gear. People sometimes stare at the scar on his neck—it’s hard to miss since it still has a slight purplish red color—but that wasn’t what she was looking at.

She flashes him a smile and directs her instructions at him. “The coveralls zip on over your clothes. You’re required to wear a helmet, goggles, face shield, and gloves. Do you want separate rooms? Or together?”

“Together,” Oliver says.

“Okay, get suited up and I’ll be right back.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, and I grin at the swing of her hips when she leaves the room. It reminds me of Tori sticking her hip out when she talked to boys when we were kids because we read it was sexy.

Her flirting is completely wasted on Oliver. He’s oblivious.

“She was checking you out,” I whisper as we start pulling on the coveralls.

He looks up at me. “What?”

“The girl. Josie. She was flirting with you. I can’t take you anywhere,” I tease.

The look on his face is hilarious. “She was?”

“Don’t look so surprised. You’re hot.”

The cocky grin that inches across his face tugs at my heart. How many times have I seen that arrogant look on Alden’s face?

“You think I’m hot?”

Rolling my eyes, I plunk the helmet onto my head and flip the faceplate down. “Well, right now you look kind of dorky.”

“Too late,” he says, pulling on the gloves. “You already said it. You think I’m sexy.”

“That’s not what I said,” I laugh. He is sexy. And as much as I despise myself when those thoughts and urges show themselves, they’re getting harder to ignore.

Josie returns and leads us into a large room lined with shelves and piled with random junk. “The prices are listed on everything. You can choose what you want and take it through that door.”

Neither of us cares much what we’re smashing. We grab some crates of dishes, a few electronics and a crate of glass bottles. The smash room is awesome. A few larger items sit scattered around, including an old stereo. Graffiti covers the cinderblock walls. So many fuck yous scribbled in rage. A lot of pain has bled out in this room.

Josie points toward the far wall. “Make sure you throw and hit things in the direction of the black wall. You can choose any of the weapons on the table.” She reaches up and touches a cord that stretches across one section of the room. “You can clip the mugs and smaller things here to swing at them. If you need any assistance, I’ll be at the front desk.” She grins at Oliver. “Have fun.”

This time he smiles back at her, and she blushes a little as she leaves the room.

“Told you,” I say, once she’s gone. “Okay, where do you want to start?”

We peruse the table of weapons, and I pick up a baseball bat. Oliver chooses a crowbar. I dump out an array of dishes on the large concrete table in the center of the room while Oliver clips some mugs on the cord strung over it.

“You go first,” I tell him.

He raises the crowbar and brings it down in the middle of a ceramic plate. It shatters with a glorious noise. He whacks it a couple more times, crushing the shards to bits, then smiles at me. “Come on, it’s fun.”

It is fun.

I swing the bat at one of the hanging coffee mugs and it flies off, slamming against the wall and exploding. Oh, I’m going to spend too much money here.

After glancing at each other, we both set to it. Oliver tosses a glass bottle in the air for me to hit, then I do the same for him. Screaming and cursing, we demolish everything. It’s the most satisfying feeling. To let loose without a care in the world.

Glass and debris crunch under our shoes. Sweat starts to line my skin, and my heart races. When I pause to catch my breath, I watch Oliver beat the hell out of a keyboard. We’re almost out of items.

Oliver smashes his way through an old stereo while I grab one of the available markers and head for the biggest thing in the room. An old office copy printer. It’s the last thing, and I know what I need to do. I scrawl their names across the top. Connor and Dean Warren.

The men who took everything from us.

Oliver approaches, still breathing hard. He looks at what I’ve written and then locks eyes with me. Silently, he switches his crowbar to a sledgehammer, and I do the same, choosing a lighter one that I can swing better.

I nod at him, then jump when he roars, “Fuck you!” and swings the hammer over his head. It slams into the copier, shattering the top window. He pulls it back again in a split second to deliver another strike, and I join in.

All I can think about when the hammer crashes down on the names is how much we lost because of two men we don’t even know. What did we do to deserve this?

Tears fill my eyes, but I keep going. I’m not sure what I’m yelling, the thoughts in my head are screaming too loud. Why? Why my Alden? Why me? Why us? What did we do to deserve to suffer like this? We were happy. We were going to get married, be together forever. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.

Oliver’s cries of rage compete with mine while we take turns pulverizing the machine. His face is red and tears stream down his cheeks too. Once I wear myself out, I toss the sledgehammer aside and stand back while Oliver finishes.

“How do you fucking like this, bitch!” he shouts, and brings the hammer down again. He must hit just the right spot because a huge glut of black ink jets out, spraying both of us.

He freezes and looks over at me. Ink runs down his facemask and drips onto his overalls. Despite my current mood, it strikes me as funny. “Maybe it did like it. I think it came,” I announce.

We stare at each other for a long moment before both of us burst out laughing. “I was pounding it pretty hard,” he says.

We go from rage tears to laughing tears. This might be the best therapy I’ve ever had.

We’re still chuckling over it after we’ve shucked off all the protective equipment and returned to my car.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

“Good. Really good. That was cathartic. And fun.”

“We definitely need to do it again. It was worth the ink on my shoes.”

“Where are we headed now?” he asks as I start the car.

“Do you want to go see a movie?”

He grins at me and fastens his seatbelt. “Let’s do it.”

It’s great to see him happy. I think I’ve seen him smile more this week than I have since he woke up from the coma. When we get to the theater, he’s like a giant kid, loading up on candy and popcorn before we find a seat.

The comedy movie he chose is entertaining and has both of us laughing aloud. I was a little concerned the noise and the bright screen might trigger one of his headaches, but he’s fine. After it’s over, we decide to have dinner before going back home.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to point out that the restaurant we’re going to was one of his favorites. He’s taking a break from that pressure, from trying to remember. “This place has great lasagna,” I remark, as he opens the door for me, and follows me inside.

“Yeah? Something sure smells good.”

The hostess stand is empty but bears a sign telling us to wait to be seated. The place isn’t too busy yet. We’ve probably beat the dinner rush by half an hour.

The hostess comes around the corner, grabs two menus and says, “Booth or table?” She stops in her tracks, her mouth falling open a little.

I’m half a second away from addressing her when Oliver blurts out, “Breanna.”

Breanna kept in contact with me in the very beginning. She and Oliver had been broken up for around a year when he got shot. They didn’t end on good terms, and she never visited him. The last time I heard from her was when I told her Oliver had amnesia and was going to the rehabilitation center.

“Oliver,” she replies. “Hey…hi.”

I grab Oliver’s arm, my heart in my throat. His eyes are wide when he looks down at me. “You remember her?” I exclaim.

“I…no. I don’t know. Her name just popped out of my mouth.” His stunned expression must match my own.

“Do you know who she is?”

He looks back at her and blinks a few times. “No.” He regards her. “I’m sorry. It was just your name.”

“It’s okay.” I wrap my arms around him in a hug. “Oliver, you remembered something!” I want to scream it from the roof and throw a party. He and Breanna were together off and on for a few years. It was his only serious relationship. It makes sense she’d be the first memory he’d have, however small.

“I did,” he replies with wonder.

Breanna watches us like a statue, unsure how to react. Fair enough, I’m sure it’s an uncomfortable situation.

"Are you okay? We can go,” I offer. He looks dazed, and I don’t want him to have an anxiety attack.

“No, I’m good.”

“Your name is the first memory he’s had,” I explain, and Breanna looks like she might cry.

“I’m glad to see you’re better.” Her discomfort is almost as bad as Oliver’s.

“Can we get a corner table, please?” I ask.

“Yeah, of course.” She leads us back to a table, places the menus in front of us, and adds, “Your waitress will be with you in a moment.” After a long pause, she smiles at Oliver. “It was good to see you again. I’m sorry about Alden.”

He’s too busy scrutinizing her to answer so I thank her. She nods and rushes away.

“Oliver? Do you want to tell me what happened?”

He looks over at me. “It was weird. I knew her name. As soon as I saw her face, it just came out. Then when she was standing here, I got these…flashes.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “She was kissing me.”

Oh my god, he really is recalling her. “You don’t have to be afraid. I know it’s probably alarming, but that’s the way the doctors said things would come back to you. In pieces or chunks.”

The waitress approaches us, and he scoots his menu toward me. “Order for me too, okay? I can’t think.”

“Sure.”

I place our order and wait until after the waitress drops off our drinks to resume our conversation. “Was that all you remembered? Her kissing you? Her name?”

A grin grows on his face while he picks up a breadstick. “Well, I know what she looks like naked.”

After a moment, I crack up. Of course, the first memories a guy would get back would be something like that. He joins in, shaking his head. “That was it. Nothing else. Is she my ex-girlfriend or something?”

“Yes, you two dated on and off for a few years. You broke up with her about a year before the robbery. Do you want me to speak to her and see if you two can talk a bit? See if anything else comes back?”

“No.” His answer is instant. “I’m thrilled I remembered something, but I think…it’s enough for now. My head…”

I reach over and squeeze his hand. “Okay. There’s no need to rush anything. Look what happened now that we stopped trying to trigger memories. We won’t force it.” The waitress approaches with our food. “I can get this to go if you don’t feel up to staying? We can eat at home.”

He smiles at me, and I get my own flashes of memory. His smile is so close to Alden’s. I remember Mom once saying they had devil’s smiles. Wickedly attractive. “No, I’m fine. Starving.”

He says he’s fine but by the time we finish eating, he looks exhausted. Today was fun but it’s one of the longest he’s had since he got out of the rehab center. It doesn’t kill his good mood. There’s a peaceful smile on his face throughout the drive home.

He pauses and looks back at me when he’s halfway up the stairs, heading to bed. “Thank you, Ella. For everything you’ve done for me. I think…” He rubs a hand over his cheek before continuing. “I think I’m getting better. Mentally. If I remembered something today, it’ll probably happen again.” There’s a hitch in his voice when he adds, “I might be okay.”

It’s wonderful to hear him sound hopeful. “You’re going to be better than okay. You don’t need to thank me. You’ve worked hard as hell to get here.”

“You gave me a place to recover and everything I needed. You’ve been there since I woke up in this forgotten life. I wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for you. Thank you.”

It’s terrible how often I feel like I’m on the edge of tears. My emotions haven’t felt like my own since the day Alden died. “You’re welcome. You’re family, Oliver. I’ll always be here.”

He swallows hard and gives me a small smile, then continues upstairs.

An emotion I can’t quite describe stays with me while I shower and get ready for bed. Some curious ache that makes my happiness for Oliver bittersweet. Perhaps it just doesn’t feel right to be happy after so much misery. Or maybe it’s because Alden isn’t here to see it. When I told Oliver that I’ll always be there for him, I meant it. But it’s too close to the promise I always made to Alden to leave my window unlocked.

In the end, it wasn’t enough. The world still took him from me.

With a sigh, I climb into bed and pick up my phone to distract myself. If I keep trying to sort out my tumbling thoughts, I’ll never be able to sleep. I notice I missed a text from Smith.

SMITH

Hey, haven’t heard from you in a bit. Everything is good at the shop. Just wanted to check on you both.

Oliver has more people on his side than only me. It’d do him good to spend more time with them. Breanna brought back his first memory. He needs more of those type of situations, without the pressure. He’s been isolated here. That was what he needed at first, but his panic attacks are fewer and farther between now. He doesn’t get as overwhelmed by noises. Dipping his toes back into his old normal might be good for him.

ME

Hi, things are good here. Will you give me a call when you’re free to talk?

I don’t expect to hear from him until tomorrow, but my phone rings as I’m putting it on charge. Smith and I talk for a few minutes and make plans for him to come by tomorrow. After we hang up, I turn on the TV for some background noise to keep my thoughts at bay and fall asleep listening to it.

The ache in my shoulders wakes me before my alarm. The sledgehammer I chose yesterday might’ve been on the lighter side, but it worked out muscles that aren’t used to it. A lesser ache pulses in my back when I climb out of bed. I need to get back to the gym.

“Are your muscles sore from smashing stuff yesterday?” I ask, joining Oliver in the kitchen.

He grins at me and puts the lid on the blender. “No, physical therapy has me in good shape. Do you want a smoothie?”

“Nah, thanks. I’ll grab something on the way to work. You know you have an eleven-thirty appointment with your doctor today. Tori is going to get you after therapy and take you.”

“Okay.” He picks up his phone and sets a reminder. “I have some good painkillers upstairs. Knock that soreness right out.”

“They’d knock me right out too,” I laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

We’re both in a good mood while we get ready for our day. Oliver doesn’t hate physical therapy like he used to, probably because it’s not as painful now. When I drop him off, he flashes me a smile and disappears inside.

With back-to-back sessions scheduled, my morning flies by. My waiting list of clients is growing. I’m going to need to start working full days again soon. My printer runs out of ink after printing my last client’s receipt, and I can’t remember what I did with the new cartridge. After searching through three drawers, it finally shows itself. A paper sticks to the back of it.

It’s the lease that Alden had drawn up when he bought this place. I run my fingers over his signature.

Make it your studio and chase your dream, El. This time, let me leave the window unlocked for you.

We’d only been together a month. I thought he was crazy.

You’ve been mine since we were thirteen.

He argued it was pointless for me to pay him back once we were engaged, but I insisted. I’d only managed about a quarter of it when he died, and it was willed to me like everything else.

“You got your way on that,” I murmur. “Business is good, Den. You’d be proud of me.”

I tuck the lease in a folder and take it with me to add to my keepsakes. He’s been gone for over six months, and while I’ve managed to pack away his things, I haven’t gotten rid of anything. My garage is packed full. One day, I keep telling myself. One day I’ll be able to face it.

Smith is already at my house when I get home, sitting on the couch beside Oliver. He hops up to give me a hug. “Hey girl, how are you?”

“I’m good. Sorry I wasn’t here when you showed up. I got hung up at work.”

“No worries. I just got here. How’s business?”

Chuckling, I take a seat. “If it gets any better, I’m going to need a clone. How’s the new trade student working out?”

“She’s great. Hard worker, driven to learn. I think you’ll like her.” Smith perches on the edge of the couch. “I actually stopped by to talk to Oliver.”

Oliver’s eyebrows leap up, and he regards him.

“Ella told me you’ve been feeling better. I thought I’d see if you want to go grab a burger and pop in at Stokes Brothers. Everyone would love to see you. I can drop you back off here after we close.”

A smile leaps to Oliver’s face and there’s not a second of hesitation. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Alright, let’s do it.” Smith stands up. “Oh, by the way, Hudson pissed off some woman he brought home from the bar, and she shaved one of his eyebrows off while he slept. By all means, ask him about it so we can all laugh again.”

“Are you serious?” Oliver says, getting to his feet.

“I’m sure he deserved it.”

“Have fun,” I tell them. “Stay out of trouble.”

Smith kisses my cheek. “Yes, mom.”

Oliver chuckles and flashes a smile at me. “See you later.”

It’s amazing how much progress he’s made recently. The first week he was here, going to a restaurant or grocery store was too much for him. It was understandable. Not only is he recovering from a brain injury, the world was one big question mark to him. I’d be terrified too. He knows the guys at his shop, but only from meeting them a couple of times. The fact that he’s excited to go have lunch and spend the afternoon with them shows how far he’s come.

It's the first time I’ve been home alone in over two months, and I take full advantage of it. A hot bath and two self-induced orgasms later, I’m lying on the couch binge watching a trashy vampire show full of shirtless muscular guys. My sex drive has really come back lately, but the thought of being with anyone is still too hard. It might be time to buy a new toy.

I order a pizza for dinner, and it shows up minutes before Oliver returns. “Hey, you’re just in time. Hungry?”

“A little.” He takes a plate and sits across the table from me. “Smith said to tell you to bring your car in one day if you haven’t had the oil changed.”

Whoops. That’s something that slipped my mind. Alden used to do that. “I haven’t. Glad he thought of it.”

He grins at me. “You don’t need to take me to physical therapy tomorrow. I don’t have to go anymore. Just cognitive therapy twice a week from now on.”

“That’s great!”

He nods. “That’s not all. I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier. Since I haven’t had a seizure since the hospital, the doctor is taking me off the seizure pills. You know he’s already been weaning them. If I don’t have any episodes in the next month without them, I’ll be able to start driving again.”

“Do you think you’d be comfortable with driving?”

He munches on his pizza and thinks it over. “I think so. My anxiety has gotten a lot better. I didn’t have any trouble today. I’m going to stay on those anxiety pills a while though. Most places are unfamiliar to me, but I know how to use the navigator on my phone.” He shrugs and looks over at me. “And who knows how I’ll be in a month. I might have my memories back.”

It's a wonderful thing to hear him sound so hopeful. To see him looking forward to something. “I have two photo shoots to do tomorrow, then we could go find something to do if you want,” I offer. Getting out and having fun without any pressure to try to trigger a memory seems to be working for him.

“Actually, Milo is going to come and pick me up at lunchtime. Smith showed me what I used to do at the shop, and he’s going to start teaching me the software.” He chuckles and sits back in his chair. “He said I’m the one who taught him. Anyway, I’m going to go to the shop a few days a week. The guys said they don’t mind picking me up after lunch.”

I reach across the table and take his hand. “I’m happy for you. Just take your time and don’t overdo it, okay? You don’t want to have a setback.”

His smile is soft when he squeezes my hand. “I’ll take it easy. It’s only a few half days to start with. A lot of the time I’ll probably just be hanging out with the guys and getting familiar with my business. If I need a rest, or get a migraine, there’s always my old apartment upstairs.”

At that moment, I see so much of Alden in him. The determination and kindness. He tilts his head the tiniest bit. “What’s that look for?”

“I’m just proud of you. Now, tell me, how goofy did Hudson look with one eyebrow?”

CHAPTER 19

We fall into a new schedule over the next month. Two days a week, he goes to cognitive therapy. On those days, I drop him off and Tori picks him up like before, but she doesn’t stay with him. He enjoys having some time alone while I’m at work, and he knows he has multiple friends only minutes away if he needs us. The other three days he continues to work at the shop after lunch. It’s allowed me to go back to working full time.

We spend the evenings together, sometimes going out for dinner or a movie. Oliver has grown obsessed with watching movies. It makes sense. Imagine if you had no memory of any movie you’d ever seen. The endless choices. A lot of evenings still find us curled up on the couch in front of the TV. On the weekends, we go out, sometimes meeting up with Tori and Paul, or Smith and Harry.

Oliver has had one panic attack, and a particularly nasty migraine a week ago, but he’s improving day by day. Except for the amnesia. The only thing since Breanna that triggered his memory was seeing Smith’s dog. He remembered Smith bringing it to the shop when he first got it. Brains are weird.

Whether he regains his memories or not, he’s learning to live again.

Oliver bounds through the kitchen door about ten minutes after I get home from work. His clothes are streaked with dirt, and the smell of the shop clings to him. That smell always throws me back to days of Alden coming in the same way. Oliver isn’t usually dirty, though.

“What happened to you?” I ask, chuckling.

“Milo had me help him clean out carburetors and showed me how to replace a fuel tank.”

“You were working on the bikes?”

He leans against the counter wearing a wide smile. “Don’t sound so surprised. I can learn more than inventory and accounting.”

I toss a chunk of green pepper at him, and he snatches it out of the air. “I know that. It just wasn’t your job before.”

He shrugs and pops the piece of pepper into his mouth. “Staying on the computer too long gives me a headache. And I want to be useful while I’m there. By the way, go look out the front window.”

“What? Why?”

“Just go look.”

“If you have one of the guys waiting to jump out and scare me, I will kick your ass.” It takes me a second to realize what I’m supposed to be seeing when I push the curtain aside. Oliver’s car sits parked beside mine. It’s been at the shop since that awful day.

“Did you drive here?” I ask.

He beams at me and nods. “The doctor cleared me today.”

“Congratulations!” I exclaim, grabbing him in a hug. My words muffle against his shirt. “We should celebrate. Do you want to go out? We could catch a movie.”

Before he can answer, my phone rings. “It’s Detective Ramos,” I exclaim, glancing at the screen. We haven’t had much news or progress. The detective warned us that the justice system moves at a snail’s pace, and they’ve still been looking for Dean Warren with no luck.

Oliver stands beside me while I answer on speaker so we can both hear. “Hello.”

“Ella?”

I’m holding my breath. He’s not calling out of the blue for nothing. Something is happening. “Yeah, I’m here. Oliver is too.”

“Good. How are you, Oliver?”

“Better every day, thanks. Do you have news for us?”

“I do. About two hours ago, Indianapolis police picked up Dean Warren. He’s being transferred to Vanderburgh County jail.”

“You’ve got both of them,” I manage through the knot in my throat.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have more information for you shortly. And Oliver will likely be hearing from the prosecutor soon, but I wanted you to know we got them.” The emotion in his voice is clear. He’s worked on this case from the beginning and I’m so grateful he’s the one who’s investigating. My fear that Alden would just be another statistic in the city was unfounded.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. There’s no chance they’ll let either of them out on bail or anything?”

His chuckle is rough. “With double murder, attempted murder, and robbery? No way.”

Oliver and I both thank him again before we hang up. For a moment, I stand in my living room, processing what he told me. It’s not over. They aren’t convicted, but they aren’t running around living a carefree life.

“Now we really need to celebrate,” Oliver says.

“Absolutely. What do you want to do?”

“Actually, Smith was telling me that a local band called Iceleaf is playing tomorrow night at a bar down the street from the shop. He said I always went to see them before.”

My eyebrows leap up. “At The Square? It’s not a huge place, but there will likely be a crowd.”

“I know. I want to check it out anyway. The courtroom will be crowded too when they go to trial, won’t it? And there’s no way I’m not going to be right there beside you.”

On days like this, I’m in awe of his strength. It feels like a battle for me every day to try to be positive. To enjoy things. He’s still living in a nightmare where he doesn't have a past and look at him.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

He blinks and a half grin grows on his face. “Of course I do, but I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

“I’m serious.” He gazes down at me when I approach and look him in the eye. “You’re so strong and kind after all you’ve been through. I don’t think you realize how much you’ve helped me too. I’m not sure how I would’ve gotten through this without you.”

He brings his hand up to cup my cheek. “You’re the strong one, El. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

“I guess we make a good team.”

His thumb brushes over my cheek. My heart speeds up when his gaze drops from my eyes to my mouth. When he looks back up at me, I’m surprised to see desire burning in his eyes, and more alarmed to find my body responding to it. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips, and I wonder how he’d taste, how his lips would feel.

Would they be like Alden’s?

That intrusive thought shocks me back to reality. Stepping back, I force a smile. “The Square sounds fun. I love live music.”

A small smile replaces the flash of disappointment on his face. “Good. I get to take you out this time.”

Whatever flickered into life between us just now is still there when we gaze at each other. “I’m looking forward to it.” My words feel awkward and hesitant. “Um, I should go finish dinner.”

“Okay, I’m going to go take a shower.”

He bounds up the stairs that he used to take slowly not long ago, and I sit down on the edge of the couch. What the hell just happened? He wanted to kiss me. I wanted to let him. What is wrong with me? This is Alden’s brother.

Alden, the man who loved me more than anything. The man I still dream about and yearn for every day. Seven months has brought me the ability to cope with his absence but hasn’t taken one ounce of my love for him.

Oliver and I just heard good news that we’ve been waiting on forever. We got caught up in the moment, that’s all. Neither of us said anything. It should be easy enough to act like nothing happened. When honestly, nothing did.

The stir fry I was making for dinner is done by the time Oliver returns. We spend a nice evening together. After dinner, I make a pan of brownies, and we watch a movie. He decides to watch another while I head up to bed.

As I’m dozing off, it occurs to me that he might not be living with me for much longer. He’s fighting so hard for independence and driving himself was a big step. He may want to go back to his apartment. The thought is more upsetting than I’d like to admit.

Does that mean I’m developing feelings for him? Oliver is sweet and brave and every bit as attractive as his brother was. Of course he is, he wears his face. But he isn’t Alden.

I’m excited to go out tonight. It’s been forever since I dressed up nice or went out for a drink. When I call Tori to tell her the news about the arrest and invite her and Paul to join us, they have other plans, but we arrange to get together later in the week.

Oliver is in the shower when I get home from work, and I hurry to get ready as well. The Square isn’t the kind of place you dress too fancy for, so I settle for tight jeans and a clingy shirt that shows the right amount of cleavage. I’m not trying to get hit on or anything. I just want to feel good. I take my time putting on my makeup and doing my hair until it falls in soft waves to my shoulders.

Oliver steps out of his room as I’m on my way down the hall, stopping me in my tracks. “You cut your hair.” The words spill out of my mouth unbidden.

“You sound disappointed. You don’t like it?”

I reach up and run my hand through the short locks. “Of course I do. It just surprised me. I liked it long, but you look great.” I step back, and he grins at me while I look at him. He’s gained back the weight he lost in the hospital and most of it appears to be muscle. His long sleeve button-up hugs his body in a flattering way. “New shirt?”

“I went shopping. I’m not crazy about some of my old clothes.” He runs a hand down the front of his shirt. “It’s okay. You can tell me how sexy I am.”

I love how much his mood has changed over the last weeks. He’s happier and much more upbeat. “You look very handsome,” I tell him with a chuckle.

“You look beautiful. Are you ready to go?”

“Yep.”

It feels strange to climb into the passenger seat of Oliver’s car. I’ve been driving him for so long. “I could get used to this. To The Square, chauffeur, and step on it.” I lean my seat back and clap twice.

“Don’t think I won’t put you in the trunk just because you look so hot.”

“Pass. It’s too damn cold out.” He turns the heat up and tilts the vent toward me.

When we get to The Square, it’s a little early. The band isn’t set to play for another thirty minutes. It’s a good thing because we beat the crowd.

Oliver holds the door open for me and then leads me across the room. When he stops at a table next to the wall and near the corner of the stage, I pause and look over at him. “Have you been here since you got hurt?”

“No, why?”

“Why did you pick this table?”

His eyebrows jump up and his mouth opens then closes while he considers it. “I don’t know. Do you want to sit somewhere else?”

“No, this was the table you always sat at when you came here. Alden and I used to meet you and Breanna here sometimes. Tori too. You always had this table. Did you remember?”

We both sit down and the waitress approaches before he can reply. Oliver orders a beer, and I get a margarita. Once she walks away, he looks around. “I don’t remember this being my table, or recognize anything specifically, but the place feels familiar to me. It’s hard to explain. It felt like I was on autopilot when I walked in and picked the table.”

“It’s okay. It’s good.” Something occurs to me. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”

He instantly points across the room to one of the two hallways. “Down there on the right.” Once the words are out, he looks stunned. “I guess I kind of remember?”

Our waitress drops off our drinks, and he takes a long swallow of his beer. He looks a little shaken.

“Hey.” I reach across and squeeze his arm. “It’s okay. Don’t try to force anything. Let it happen naturally.”

“I’m not. It feels odd, though.”

I’ll bet it does. It’s a good time to change the subject. “I wanted to talk to you about something now that you’re back at Stokes Brothers.”

“Are you kicking me out?” he asks with a teasing smile.

“Of course not! You know that Alden left me his half of your business when he died. I want you to know that once you’re confident you have everything handled, the business side of things, you know.” I roll my hand. “I’m going to transfer my share to you.”

Oliver picks up his beer and takes a drink, then leans on the table to get his face close to mine. “No.”

It catches me off guard and a nervous giggle escapes me. “What?”

“No. Actually, hell no. I’m not taking your part of Stokes Brothers.”

“It’s your business, Oliver. It was always yours and Alden’s. He started it but you were instrumental to its success. He always said so. He didn’t know anything about business. He left it to me because he thought we’d be married and probably have kids if something happened to him in the future.”

“It doesn’t matter. My brother wanted you to have it. You did everything you could to make sure it stayed afloat while I was sick and you’re still watching over it. We’re business partners now, El. You’re stuck with me.”

“I don’t know shit about bikes.”

“I don’t know shit about anything.”

“Oliver!” I exclaim, biting back a laugh. “You do too.”

His little self-satisfied grin is cute. “You don’t want to argue about who is more inept with me right now. I’m going to win.”

“Fine. We’ll talk about it again later. When you feel less inept.” My next sip of margarita seems to find all the alcohol in the glass, and I wince.

“Is it strong?”

“It is. Want to try a sip?”

He shakes his head. “Two beers is my limit tonight. They don’t mix well with the anxiety medication.”

The band starts setting up, and I notice people are starting to pour in. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m great. I’m having fun.”

He is. Even once the place is filled with people and noise, he seems fine. We talk about some of the funny things that have happened at our jobs. Apparently, Hudson has got it bad for the new hire, Joanna, and she enjoys giving him constant shit.

“Oh my god. He isn’t sexually harassing her, is he?” Hudson is a great worker, but he’s a big old man slut. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

“No, Smith was all over that. She told him, and I quote, ‘That arrogant asshole doesn’t stand a chance and I’m happy to bring him down a peg.’” He grins and points his beer at me. “You’d like her.”

“I like her already.”

“I think Milo wants to adopt her as a daughter,” he laughs.

I finish one margarita and order another. The band starts their set and they’re fantastic. A few songs in, and I’m moving with the music in my seat.

Oliver gets up and holds out his hand. “Want to dance?”

I take his hand and we make our way to the other side of the room where the dance floor is half filled with people. It’s not so crowded that we’re bumping into others, and Oliver doesn’t seem bothered as he puts his hands on my hips and moves with me.

“You’re having fun,” he says, taking in the smile on my face.

“I am. This was a good idea. I’m glad we came.”

The song ends and they begin to play a slow one. I loop my arms around Oliver’s neck and he holds me around my waist. A memory leaps into my head, making me smile. “We’ve danced together like this before.”

“Really?” His dark eyes look into mine with amusement.

“You asked me to the eighth grade dance when I was thirteen.”

“Did we have fun?”

“Yes, it was a big deal to be asked since I was a lowly seventh grader. I thought I was the shit. So did Tori. She went with another boy.”

“Did we date after that?”

“No, it was just that once.”

“I must’ve been an idiot then. Or did I do something stupid?”

“Neither.” I sway to the music while he pulls me closer. “You were very sweet, but Alden already had my heart. The night before the dance, he climbed into my window and kissed me.”

“What a jerk,” he says with a smile, making me laugh.

“He definitely could be sometimes.”

The music picks up, switching to a pulsing beat, and Oliver spins me around. He pulls me back against his body. I close my eyes and let my body find the beat. Caught up in the music and the buzz of the alcohol flowing through me, there’s not a thought in my head, and it’s a wonderful feeling. After so much grief and stress, this is what I needed.

Oliver’s hands are always on me as we dance through the next few songs. When it switches back to a slow one, he pulls me in close, and I don’t hesitate to rest my head on his shoulder. It feels good to be in someone’s arms again, to be held. To feel close to him.

It’s the last song and everyone stops to clap when they leave the stage. The music switches to the jukebox, and I take Oliver’s hand to lead him back to our table.

“Do you want another drink?”

“Nah, I think I’m done. How about you?”

“I’m ready to go if you are.”

The frigid night air feels worse than before when it hits our sweaty skin. “Do you want to get something to eat?” he asks while we wait for his car to warm up a little.

“Sure, there’s a diner two blocks over. They have good breakfast food. Or would you rather hit a drive-thru for burgers?”

“Burgers over waffles? How could you even ask that?”

The diner isn’t very busy. I know from past experience it’ll be full once the bars start to close, but right now we have no problem getting a quiet booth in the back.

“Have I been here before?” Oliver asks, once we have our food and dig in.

“Not with me. I’m not sure, otherwise. It wasn’t one of your regular spots to eat as far as I know. Does it feel familiar?”

“No, not at all. Food is good though.”

After we’re finished, he insists on paying, the same as he did at the bar. When we get home, it’s later than I’ve been out since everything fell apart.

Most of my buzz has worn off, but I feel good. Tired, only in a good way for a change. Once we get inside and out of our coats, I kick my shoes off and turn to see Oliver standing behind me.

“Thanks for tonight. I had a great time.”

He steps up to hug me. “I did too. You can dance your ass off.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

When I let go of him and start to step back, he slides his hand around the back of my neck. Before I can think, his lips are on mine. A jolt goes through me, and I part my lips, letting him slip his tongue between them.

I should stop this. Push him away.

Instead, I give in to the urge and brush my tongue over his. It only lasts a few seconds, and I’m shocked how intense one soft, quick kiss can feel. When our mouths part, he looks down at me, and the realization of what I’m doing strikes me.

“Shit,” I curse under my breath, putting some distance between us.

“I’m sorry.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he shakes his head. “Actually, no I’m not. I’ve wanted to do that for weeks, Ella.” When I don’t answer him right away, he reaches out to lift my chin until I look at him. “I’ve seen you looking at me the same way. Was I wrong?”

It’s not an easy thing to admit. Guilt swells inside my chest. “No, you weren’t wrong, but I can’t, Oliver. You don’t know what you’re doing. You only feel like that because I took care of you. I’d be taking advantage.”

“You know that’s not true. I don’t have to remember who I was to know how I feel. There’s something between us. I felt it the first time I looked in your eyes after I woke from the coma. Before I even knew you. Tell me I’m not the only one who feels it.”

“You’re his brother,” I whisper, feeling my resolve to resist him slipping away.

He brushes my hair back behind my ear. “I’m sorry I can’t remember him. But you’ve told me enough about him for me to know he wouldn’t want you to be unhappy or feel guilty. Not when he’s gone, and I’m here. I don’t know what we were to each other before but you’re everything to me now.”

The turmoil roiling inside me is painful. He must see it in my expression because he leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry I upset you, but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. You don’t need to say anything. We can talk when you’re ready, okay?”

“Okay.” My head is spinning from the kiss, from his words, and the guilt that seeps in more by the second.

“Good night, Ella.” He turns and heads up the stairs, leaving me standing in the living room in a cyclone of emotions.

The long day of work, dancing, and alcohol have worn me out. I’m too tired to think. All I’m going to do is drive myself crazy. Instead, I do my best not to think about the kiss or Oliver’s confession while I get ready for bed.

I’m thankful for the exhaustion that lets me sleep as soon as I crawl under the covers, despite my failure to block out the thoughts.

CHAPTER 20

Dark eyes, so close to mine they’re blurry, inch backward until I can focus on the depth of feeling residing in them. All I feel is love and safety. My eyes close at the feel of lips on my forehead. “Alden.”

His smile is everything. “Ella.”

He reaches over and pulls me against him. I’m surrounded in his warmth. He cups my face the way he always does when he’s about to kiss me, and my heart flutters in anticipation.

Soft lips, his insistent tongue, the little hum he makes. There’s nothing better. My hands are greedy, roaming over him. I can’t get enough. I can’t get close enough to him to be satisfied.

He wraps his arms around me, and I soak in the comfort.

A scream makes my entire body jerk, and I sit up in bed. Confusion reigns for a moment while the dream fades. Did I hear a scream? Was it in my head?

“Alden?”

A bang comes from down the hall, and my brain catches up. Not Alden. Alden’s gone. Oliver.

I scramble out of bed and rush down to check on him. His door is closed, but I can hear his heavy breathing from the other side. He must be having a panic attack.

The hall light spills into the room when I open the door, illuminating where Oliver sits on the floor, dressed only in a pair of boxers. He’s balled up against the end of the bed, terror distorting his face. His hands are clamped over his ears.

He jumps so violently when I touch him that I’m afraid he’s having a seizure, but that isn’t it. Recognition shows on his face when he looks at me, and he cautiously removes his hands from his ears. “It was so loud. Did you hear it?”

The nightstand beside the bed has been toppled over. That explains the bang I heard. “It’s okay. It’s just the table. You must’ve kicked it in your sleep.”

“No, the guns. The gunshots. It was so fucking loud. They echoed. What if they never stop echoing?”

I kneel in front of him. “You’re alright. It was a nightmare.”

Goosebumps line his skin. “The blood. I’m dying.”

“Oliver, look at me.” Tormented eyes stare into mine. “You had a nightmare. There are no guns here. No blood. You’re okay. I promise. It’s just me and you.”

His tongue darts out to lick his lips. “A nightmare.”

“That’s right.”

I know better. It wasn’t a simple nightmare. He’s remembering.

Right now, I want to calm him down, make sure he knows he’s safe. We can talk about it later.

He stands up and returns to the bed, sitting on the edge. His body trembles, and he runs his hands through his hair. “Fuck. It was so real.”

When I take a step, he reaches out for me. “Can you stay for a minute?”

“I’m not leaving.”

My heart is trying its best to slow down. After being yanked from a dream of Alden loving me, my emotions are raw. “Music?” I suggest. It’s what usually helps him calm down.

He reaches for his phone and music begins playing through his bedside speaker. With a sigh, he lies down, his hands behind his head. I push the door until it closes enough to block out most of the hallway light, leaving the room dim.

It’s silent as I climb into bed and lay my head on his bare chest. He brings one of his arms down to tuck it around me. We lie there without talking, comforting each other while his heartbeat slows beneath my ear.

Oliver looks away from me and a soft shudder of his chest tells me why. I reach up and run my hand down his jaw, turning his head to face me. Tears spill down my cheeks while I wipe his away. God, those eyes. So hauntingly familiar, but not the same. Heavy with anguish and suffering.

He runs his thumb along my cheekbone, brushing away a tear. I’m not sure which of us moves first. I’ll probably argue that in my head for years to come. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

He keeps his hand on my cheek while our lips meet. My eyes fall closed. Warmth floods through me as his cool lips press against mine once, twice, three times. It’s short and sweet and heartbreakingly tender.

He rolls to face me, and I can’t resist his lips again. He lets out a little moan when I slide my tongue in to find his. The long, slow kiss obliterates my senses. Soft lips move over my jaw, down to my neck. The rasp of scruff along with the hot, licking kisses kills any chance that I’m going to put a stop to this. I throw my leg over his, getting as close to him as possible while he works his way back to my mouth.

It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed like this. My body cries out for attention, for his touch. He sucks in a quick breath when I press my hips forward, rubbing myself against his hard bulge. The heat of it through my thin shorts makes me ache to have it inside me. He stares down at me for a moment, then slips his hand down between my legs.

Staying outside my shorts, he puts pressure in exactly the right place, and for a second, I think I might come just from that. It took my sex drive months to come back, but now it’s roared to life, demanding and desperate. He pauses when I grab his wrist.

Before he can say anything, I pull his hand up and slide it under my shorts and panties. He delivers another deep, scorching kiss as he slips his finger over my clit.

“Oh,” I whimper when he starts to rub in gentle circles.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against my lips.

My hips move involuntarily with his hand. “So good.”

He moves down to brush his fingertip over my opening. “Jesus, Ella, you’re so wet. I need to see you come.” His thick finger slides inside, and I groan at the sensation.

I could come from this, but when I reach down his boxers to grip his hard cock, a finger isn’t enough. I sit up and toss off my shirt. My shorts and panties quickly follow.

He rolls onto his back when I nudge him, and watches while I pull his boxers off. Straddling him, I stroke his cock, loving the feel of the smooth, heated skin.

He runs his hands up and down my thighs. His chest rises and falls faster when I scoot up and rub his tip at my entrance. “Look at me, Ella,” he orders, and I watch his mouth fall open as I slide down on his cock.

It’s been a while, and I can’t take it all the first time. Raising myself up and back down, I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of him stretching me. His hands run over my back then press me forward until he can suck my nipple between his lips. My pussy contracts around him and he groans.

It feels so good. I sit back up and ride him. Slowly. Every slide of his cock inside me feels better than the last. The room, the music, everything around me fades away. It’s bliss. Glorious peace and growing pleasure.

Strong arms lock around me, and I’m rolled over onto my back. My eyes pop open and I’m met with an intense stare. I cry out when his thrusts resume. My legs wrap around him, and I claw at his ass, trying to get him deeper, faster.

I’ve lost all control. Every stroke of his cock drags over that sensitive spot, making me cry out as the pressure builds to overwhelming.

His voice is deep and raspy in my ear. “Are you going to come for me, Ella?”

“Oh fuck, yes!” The orgasm starts in waves of sensation, growing stronger by the second, and spreading to every inch of my body until I almost can’t bear it. I see his face as he hits his climax at the same time, his mouth falling open.

“Oh, yes, Alden!” I’m holding onto him, digging my fingers in while my body pulses and thrums. My eyes squeeze shut while I ride it out.

When the orgasm fades, I open my eyes, and he looks down at me. The devastation in his expression is something I’ll never forget. My brain takes a second to catch up to what I did, and the horrifying realization hits me as he slides out of me.

I called him Alden. He asked me to come for him, and I yelled Alden’s name when I did. Without saying anything, he gets up and walks to his bathroom.

What the fuck is the matter with me? I came in here to comfort him. Instead, I fucked him and called him by his dead brother’s name. I’ve never been this ashamed in my entire life. The shower turns on in the bathroom while I’m frantically dressing.

The urge to run to my room and act like this never happened is strong, but I can’t do that to him. Instead, I sit on the edge of the bed trying to find the right words to say. He stays in there so long I wonder if he’s hoping I’ll leave. I don’t know what to do. Why do I have to be so fucked up?

Finally, he walks out with a towel around his waist. Anything I planned to say is gone the second I see him and all I can do is rush to throw my arms around him. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I didn’t mean to say that. I don’t know why…I’m sorry.” My voice cracks on the last word, and I swallow, fighting back tears.

He takes a deep breath and strokes the back of my head. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Not even a little bit. I don’t know what else to say. I’m fucked up.”

He looks down at me when I step back. “We’re both fucked up. I’m not upset at you.”

I’m pissed enough at myself for ten people. I’m not sure what to feel first. The guilt for fucking Alden’s brother, for liking it, or for hurting such a sweet man who has already been through too much.

“I’m going to go back to my room.”

“Don’t. I want you to stay.”

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him right now. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I nod my agreement and a small grin tilts his lips. “You’re going to have to let me get to my dresser to get some underwear.”

“Oh, right. I’m going to use the bathroom.” I duck into the bathroom to get cleaned up, but I don’t let myself linger. My head is too full. If I start crying now, I may never stop.

Oliver waits for me in his bed and embraces me when I join him. Despite the confusion that’s eating at me, this doesn’t feel wrong. His arms around me are comforting and warm. Tomorrow, I can face the guilt of the many ways I fucked up tonight. Right now, I need this as much as he does.

Oliver said the gunshots echoed. They did. In that convenience store, in his nightmare, in our lives. My fear is the same as his. What if they never stop echoing?

The bed beside me is empty when I wake. Everything that happened last night comes flooding back to me, and I throw my arm over my eyes. Oliver is moving around downstairs, probably making breakfast.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what Oliver wants. Hell, I don’t know what I want.

His footsteps thump on the stairs, then get closer. When I uncover my eyes, he’s standing in the doorway. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I sit up to see his closet standing open. And empty. A few boxes and bags lie scattered around the room. “Oliver?”

He comes over and sits on the edge of the bed. There’s no anger in his expression or voice, only resignation and reluctance when he says, “I’m going to move back to my apartment.”

“No, you don’t need to do that. I—”

“I do,” he interrupts. “We both need it, Ella.” He reaches to brush my hair behind my ear. “I’m so grateful to you. I can never repay you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” The thought of him leaving, of not having him here every evening when I get home from work and not being there when I wake in the mornings is unbearable. “I’m sorry about last night. I am. Don’t leave. We can…figure things out. Maybe it’s wrong for me to want you, but I do,” I confess.

He sighs and shakes his head. “You want me because I look like the man you loved.”

His words slam into me. “No.”

“Why didn’t you want me to cut my hair?”

The question catches me off guard. “What?” My phone begins to ring from my room, but I ignore it.

He looks me in the eye. “You said I’ve always kept it short, but you didn’t like when I cut it. I thought maybe it was because it covered the scars on my scalp, but it’s not that. The long hair made me look more like Alden.”

Oh my god. Is that why?

“I can’t take his place, and I can’t figure out who I am when you want me to be him.”

“I don’t.” My words come out in a sob, and I cover my mouth.

“You don’t mean to. You’ve been through so much and you’re confused, but you only want me because I’m almost him. I can’t be the runner up.”

The spare. He doesn’t even remember that, and I’ve still made him feel that way. Oh fuck. What am I doing?

He slides his hand into mine. “We’ll still see each other. I think some space would be good for both of us right now. It’s time for me to go home.”

He’s right.

I hate it, but he’s right.

“I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

He hugs me. “I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” My phone rings from my room again and he stands up. “You might want to check that. Whoever it is isn’t giving up.”

“Yeah.” I don’t want to stay in his room and watch him finish packing. It’s probably Tori wanting me to meet her for lunch or something. I desperately need to talk to her, but I’m not sure I can bring myself to tell her what’s happened.

My phone shows four missed calls from Milo. What the hell?

He picks up on the first ring when I dial him back. “Ella! Thank fuck. I’ve been calling both of your phones and neither of you would pick up!”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The cops are here. They have a warrant to search the shop and Oliver’s apartment. They’re tearing the place up.”

What he’s telling me makes no sense. “A warrant for what?”

“It says they’re looking for financial records, both for the business and Oliver’s personal accounts.”

“I don’t understand. Do they think we didn’t file taxes? Why would they—”

Milo interrupts me, his voice serious. “No, I don’t think this is about taxes.”

“I’m on my way.”

I’ve barely managed to get dressed when there’s a knock at the front door. “Oliver!” I call, rushing to find him and tell him what’s happened.

When I make it to the bottom of the stairs, Oliver stands at the open front door. He turns around and Detective Ramos follows him inside, along with two uniformed officers.

“What’s going on?” I demand. “Milo said they’re searching the shop.”

“I’m sorry, Ella,” Detective Ramos says. He turns to Oliver. “Oliver Stokes, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder. You have the right to remain silent.”

The detective continues reading him his rights as one of the officers steps forward and pulls Oliver’s hands behind his back. I don’t hear a word of it.

“What the hell are you talking about!” One of the officers blocks me when I try to get to Oliver. “Let go of him! You can’t handcuff him! He hasn’t done anything! He’s still recovering! He couldn’t have killed anyone!”

Oliver looks terrified. “Ella…”

Detective Ramos holds me back while they walk him out the door toward a waiting car.

“Don’t talk to them!” I call to him. I don’t know what’s happening, but I know you don’t talk to cops without a lawyer. “Don’t answer any questions. I’ll call a lawyer to get you out! You’ll be okay!”

I turn to Detective Ramos. “He doesn’t even remember who he is! You can’t do this!”

“We’re aware of his medical condition. He’ll be housed in the medical wing of the jail until he’s evaluated.”

My chest constricts as I watch them put him in the backseat and close the door. “I don’t understand! You said murder? He’s been with me. Every single day. Who do you think he killed?”

The detective looks genuinely upset when he regards me. “He’s being charged with conspiracy to murder his brother. Murder charges will likely be added later for the death of the clerk.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Ella. Oliver hired the Warrens to kill Alden, under the guise of a robbery. He planned it.”

“That’s insane,” I breathe. “Did you miss the part where he got fucking shot and almost died? Do you think he arranged that?” The hysteria in my voice can’t be helped. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Is this another nightmare? Am I still asleep in Oliver’s bed?

“No, Alden was the target. Oliver got caught in the crossfire when the customer started shooting and the Warrens returned fire.”

“You’re wrong. Oliver would never have hurt Alden. He loved him.” There’s been a mistake and there’s going to be hell to pay once we get it straightened out. Oliver has been traumatized enough. We both have. There’s not an ounce of me that believes he could be responsible.

I didn’t just fuck the man who killed my fiancé.

To be concluded in Almost Us, book two of the Almost Duet.

You can find it here: https://mybook.to/AlmostUs

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS FOR THE ALMOST DUET

I wanted to write this story for well over a year before I began working on it. So I want to start by saying thank you to my best frenemy S.K. Rose for dealing with a year and a half of late night messages and discussions while I changed my mind a hundred times.

To my alpha and beta readers, Nicole Everett, Serena McDonald, Jami Kehr, Aimee Degagne, Chantal Baxendale, and Kelly Tucker. You all really did what you do best and tore the story apart so I had to put it back together where it actually made sense. Thanks so much for all the feedback.

Serena McDonald, I also want to say thanks for all the yelling messages that made me laugh my ass off as you read. It is indeed, the first time I’ve been called a cocksucker by a beta reader.

The cover pictures were done by Melissa Gill of Melissa Gill designs and when I saw them, I had to have them for this duet. The models are exactly how I pictured the main characters. Thank you!

To my PA (Five years now, Mel!) thanks so much for all you do. I hope BTS comes off of hiatus soon.

The formatting was done by Abigail Davies, who is always amazing. I can’t recommend her enough. Thank you for making my mess of two different fonts and horrible spacing look professional.

To my group, Shady Ladies, thanks for being so patient and not losing interest when it took me a while to get these ready. I really wanted to release them close together because I know how you feel about cliffhangers. I hope the wait was worth it! Love you all.

Finally, thank you to Wordsmith Publicity and everyone else who helps me get my books out there. Whether you’re an author, blogger, influencer, page owner, or reader, thank you for sharing and supporting me.

WHERE TO FIND S.M. SHADE

I love to connect with readers! Please find me at the following links:

Website: www.authorsmshade.com

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/S.M.-Shade/e/B00HZZP9MM

Facebook page: https://facebook.com/smshadebooks

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorsmshade/

Sign up for my newsletter: http://bit.ly/1zNe5zu

I also have a private book group where no one outside of the group can see what you post or comment on. It’s adults only and is a friendly place to discuss your favorite books and authors. Drama free. I also host an occasional giveaway, and group members get an early peek at covers, teasers, and exclusive excerpts.

You can join Shady Ladies here. https://www.facebook.com/groups/shadyladiesplace

Table of Contents

Title Page

Contents

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Acknowledgements for the Almost Duet

Where to Find S.M. Shade