It takes me three seconds to spot Bryce and his friend in the crowded restaurant. Even if I didn’t know that tall and broad form by heart, the two men sitting side by side at the bar are eye-catching. If it wasn’t for the hair, one light, the other dark, they could be brothers.

A thrill runs through me as Bryce spins around on his stool. The clink of silverware and the chatter in the restaurant around me dulls to a low murmur when our eyes meet. The man next to Bryce nudges him in the ribs. When he doesn’t move, the guy shakes his head and gets to his feet. His gait is long and confident as he threads his way through the crowd, and he possesses the same careful grace that I’ve always noticed in Bryce.

“You must be the infamous Hartman I’ve heard so much about,” he says, coming to a stop in front of me. “Chase Woodrow, at your service.”

I have to tilt my head back to look him in the eye, but then again, I’m used to it. I’ve been doing that with Bryce since seventh grade when he shot up like a sapling and just kept going.

I take his proffered hand. “The very same. And you must be Bryce’s Air Force friend.”

His dark eyebrows raise. “Does my reputation precede me?”

“My assistant told me Bryce was out with an old colleague.” I push my long hair back from my face as we let our hands drop. I liked the feel of his in mine: rough and capable, like Bryce’s. “Sorry you’re not as infamous as you hoped.”

He leans back and laughs, the deep notes reminding me of thunder still a way off. “No, that’s a good thing. Care to join us for a drink?”

I look over at Bryce’s hunched shoulders. “If I’m not interrupting.”

Chase shakes his head and offers me his arm. “Never,” he says, leading us back the way he came. Heads begin to turn as I pass through the crowd, and I hope that this impetuous decision to crash Bryce's plans doesn't end in a paparazzi mob. “We were talking about work, any way. Boring stuff.”

“Technically, I’m Bryce’s work.”

Chase looks at me. “I know. Another reason I’m glad to meet you.”

Before I can ask what the hell that means, Chase ushers me into his seat. The metal of his watch flashes under the low-hung light bulbs as he flags down the bartender. “What do country music queens drink? It’s on me.”

I nod at Bryce’s empty glass. “Whatever he’s having.”

Bryce’s lips press together. “Whiskey.”

Chase looks at Bryce and me and lowers his hand. “You know, I think I’ll try to snag the barkeep’s attention over there.” He flashes me a white smile and then takes off for the other end of the bar.

We’re barely alone before Bryce starts in on me. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

“Alone?”

“Clearly.”

Bryce sighs. “Autumn, you can’t go off alone in the middle of a crowded, dangerous city like this.”

“I wasn’t ‘going off’. I was coming to find you.”

“Alone,” he snaps. “What if something happened? I only came out because I thought you’d be in the hotel. I can't protect you if you change your plans like this, not to mention this bar is a logistical nightmare if things go south. I haven't canvassed the—”

“I know,” I interrupt before Bryce picks up too much steam, “but nothing happened on my way over.” I was getting used to his gruff manner, the way he liked to be in control all the time, but that doesn’t mean I liked it.

Bryce’s eyes snap to mine. “Not this time, but promise me you’ll text if you’re planning a jailbreak. I’ll go to you.”

I scoff. “And miss meeting Chase? No way.”

“Did I hear my name?” Chase reappears behind us wearing a smirk and toting two half-filled highballs.

“Took you long enough,” Bryce grumbles, helping himself to one of the glasses. I frown when the second one lands in front of me.

“But where’s yours?” I ask as Chase reaches under the bar and grabs his coat off a hook.

“Me?” He throws his bomber jacket over his arm and shrugs. “I can’t stay. Remembered I have an appointment.”

“Surprising that you never mentioned your ‘appointment’ to me,” Bryce says dryly.

Chase merely grins at him. Then he claps Bryce on the back and holds out a hand to me. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Autumn.”

“Likewise,” I say, placing my hand in his. Bryce chokes on his whiskey as Chase brings my hand to his lips.

“I hope we meet again.” Chase throws his friend an unreadable look. “Soon.”

I stare after him while he weaves his way to the door. “What a gentleman.”

Bryce snorts. “When he wants to be.”

I ignore this. “Were you two really talking about work when I came in?”

“Among other things.”

“Like what?”

Bryce holds his glass up to his lips. “Like how he’s trying to decide whether or not to accept a promotion that takes him back to his hometown.”

I look at him in surprise. “Why wouldn’t he want that?”

“Because the girl who broke his heart is from there.” My heartbeat quickens as Bryce slowly turns his head and meets my eyes. “The only girl he’s ever loved.”

The noise of the crowd fills the tense silence that follows.

“Why are you here, Autumn?” Bryce asks softly.

“I needed to find you.”

“Why?”

“To tell you something.” I swallow painfully, pushing down the lump growing in my throat. The speech I planned in the car ride over here flies out of my head under Bryce’s spotlight stare. “Something important.”

His face grows tense. He puts down his glass and grabs the edge of the bar. “What is it? Are you okay?”

I nod before Bryce goes into alpha mode. “It’s about Cody.”

Bryce turns away. “Whatever argument you two had, I’m sure you’ll work through it.”

“No, wait. Listen—”

“I’d rather not,” he interjects. “I just want to sit and enjoy this whiskey without Jensen ruining it.”

“But that’s what I’m trying to say! I fired him!”

“I don’t want to hear—” He twists and gives me a long look, too long for my already racing heart. “Why?”

“Because he turned into a terrible manager.” My gaze dips to my glass. “And he called me a bitch.”

Bryce’s mouth opens, then closes. He runs a shaky hand over his eyes. “And you came straight here? Why?”

I lay a hand on his arm. He doesn’t flinch, and that realization emboldens me.

“Because you were the only person I wanted to talk to,” I say with every last inch of strength in me. “All I could think about was you after I told him to get lost.”

Bryce’s face is unreadable; a stony mask that my gaze can’t penetrate. And then, without warning, he breaks out a huge smile. Bryce flags down the bartender as she breezes past us. “Two SoCo lime shots, please.” My eyes widen as he smacks a twenty down onto the bar. “And two more when we’re done.”

I shake my head. “Zoe banned me from drinking before the show.”

“Two shots hardly count as ‘drinking.’ Besides, SoCo lime’s your favorite.”

I melt a little. “How do you always remember these things?”

“I always remember important things about someone I care about.”

My heart hammers under his heady look. I couldn’t remember a time when I wanted to touch someone the way I want to touch Bryce. “Like me?”

I look around as two shots hit the bar top in front of us. Bryce offers one to me and then raises his in the air.

“Always you, Hartman,” he says in a voice that brings me as close to the edge of reason as I’ve ever been. “Always.”

My shot returns to the bar, untouched, as Bryce tosses his back. It was the opening I’ve been looking for, and I can’t let the opportunity pass, even though the idea of opening that door shakes me to my core.

“Bry, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“And you promise to give me an honest answer?”

Bryce holds my gaze for a moment, then raises his arm and brings it in close to my chest. A shock runs through me as his hardened palm presses against my exposed breastbone. The warmth of his hand sets the bare skin of my chest on fire. His voice is tense when it comes. “Yes.”

I fight to catch my breath, forcing air into my lungs as his palm draws away. “Why—” I clear my throat and try again. “Why did we ever grow apart?”

“Really? We’re doing this right now? Right here?”

“I’m sick of ignoring the question that’s been digging at me ever since I was seventeen years old. The one you refused to answer.”

Bryce rakes a hand through his hair. His face is as serious as I’ve ever seen it. “I don’t know, Autumn, things happen. People change.”

“That doesn’t explain why you walked out of my life.”

His eyes narrow into golden slits. “I wasn’t the one who did the walking.”

The fury in his voice startles me almost as much as his words. I’ve never seen his vulnerability so clearly before. I wait for him to go on, but his face remains carved in granite.

“What does that mean?” I grab his arm as he tries to turn away. My next words die on my lips as his eyes meet mine with a ferocity I’m not prepared for. That I could never be prepared for.

“We’ll always be close, Autumn,” he says in a deep voice that sends heat searing through me. “So drop it.”

I lift my chin. “But we’re not close. You never talk to me like you used to. Not after you left for boot camp.”

He looks away. “I stayed in touch when I could.”

“You call a letter every few years ‘staying in touch’?” I say in a shaky voice. Old anger flares within me, an anger I’ve spent almost a decade trying to stamp out. “I sent you fifty! I poured everything into those pages and all I got in return were hollow replies and empty words.”

Bryce stares at his glass, tracing the droplets of condensation down the side with his finger. “I was going through a lot.”

“And I wasn’t?” I shake my head bitterly when he doesn’t respond. “Screw you. I don’t know why I keep trying.”

Before Bryce can stop me, I grab my purse and disappear into the happy hour crowd behind us. If he doesn’t want to talk, fine. Then neither do I.

I’m halfway down the block when a large hand wraps around my forearm. I’m already glaring at its owner as I’m spun around. “Bryce! What do you think you—”

“Never walk away from me again,” he growls. Then he yanks me to his chest and brings his mouth down onto mine.