He’s holding me in his arms, kissing me. His skin is silky soft where we touch, muscles shifting and bulging as he rolls me under him, his warm lips moving from my mouth to my jaw, trailing hot kisses down my neck. Between my legs, his hard-on is an insistent pressure that sends fire to my core.

“Embers…” he whispers, his hips rocking, and he slides into me. “Need you, Embers…”

I need you, too, I want to say, but I can’t speak. Not when he’s sinking into me, a delicious burn and stretch, his hot length sliding deep, filling me up. Need you.

Love you, JJ.

I want to cry, because something’s wrong. He can’t be here. He’s not here. I can’t let him in again, can’t hold him inside me, or in my arms, because…

“Kitten.” He’s moving faster, panting, his strong body sliding against mine, his cock fucking me fast and hard.

Until I come apart, writhing on the bed, waves of pleasure crashing over me, drowning me. I can’t breathe, my nose clogged and my eyes running.

I’m crying. Have been for a while. I wake up in my bed, alone, still shaking from my release.

Crap, it was a dream. He wasn’t here. And when memory returns—the image of him and Cassie kissing at the wedding reception—I swallow a sob.

I knew it would come, but now it happened I can hardly believe it. Never knew a broken heart could hurt so much. At least he stopped calling and texting every day.

How can I trust him again? It took me so much effort to unlock myself, to believe he wants me, to believe we might have something between us.

And he kissed a girl the moment I turned my back.

But against my better judgment, I want to trust him. God, I miss him so much it’s suffocating me, killing me. I miss his faint, real smile and his teasing grin, I miss the look of concentration on his face when I teach him to cook, the way he kisses me like he can never get enough. The way he opened up to me about his past, the way he drew my image, lower lip tucked under his teeth, his eyes hot on me.

I miss the way he held me, the way he teased me, the way he sat with me and shopped with me. The way he made love to me and shook me to my core like no one else before. He treated me as someone strong and whole, not someone broken.

If only he saw me now…

Hugging my pillow, I let the tears flow.

* * *

“We should start drinking Turkish coffee,” Kayla announces, sliding into the chair across from me in our brightly lit kitchen.

I rub at my eyes. I know they’re red and swollen, like on most mornings these days. “Why would we want to do that?”

“To tell our fortune. Nothing better than Turkish coffee, because you boil the coffee with the water and just pour it into your cup without a filter. Then,” she sticks her tongue out to me when I make a face, “you let the coffee powder settle, drink the coffee, and upturn the cup in its saucer. It leaves streaks and symbols you can read. I saw it on TV the other day.”

Her blond-streaked hair is caught up in two pigtails. Her pajama shorts are fuchsia and her tank top green.

My eyes really hurt now.

“What happened to good old palmistry?”

“Passé.” She waves a hand at me dismissively and grins. “We need new methods. Vosprung durch Technik.”

“Isn’t that the ad for a car?”

“Amber.” She sighs. “Advancement through technology. That’s what it means.”

“And Turkish coffee counts as technology, I assume?” I roll my eyes at her.

“You assume correctly.” She grabs my cup before I manage to take a second sip. “But meanwhile we make do.”

“Hey!” I reach for my cup, my very filtered coffee sloshing. “I’m not done.”

“I’ll help you.” She gulps down the rest. “Our fates are intertwined anyway, what with living in this apartment together and whatnot.”

“Christ, Kay. You’ve been watching too much TV.”

“You can never watch too much TV,” she intones and studies the inside of the cup. “Ah-huh. I knew it.”

“I’ve had enough.” I get up, tugging down my blouse over my boy shorts, and turn to go.

“You love him.”

I freeze on the spot by the kitchen door. “Say again?”

“Jesse Lee. You’ve gone and fallen in love with him, despite all my warnings.”

I turn slowly toward her. “Shut up, Kay.” I sit back down, my vision blurring. Awesome. And here I thought I had no more tears to shed. “I’m not in love with him.”

“Not what the cup tells me.” If she’s noticed my tears, she doesn’t give any signs. She turns the cup in her hands slowly. “Here is the heart, and it’s a double one. Man, I really wish we had Turkish coffee, this filtered stuff is crap for reading fortunes.”

I laugh, choking on tears. “Whatever.”

“It’s fuzzy. Not easy to work with. I mean, look here.” She points with her little finger at a smudge inside the cup. “See that? I can’t be sure, but it looks like a cat.”

“A cat.” This is stupid, but it’s a good distraction. “Really.”

“Yeah. See the tail? And I think…” She gasps. “No, it’s not a cat. It’s a lion.”

My turn to gasp. That’s a funny coincidence. I think again at the pendant I wanted to give Jesse, still tucked inside my purse—the stone lion I carved.

“No idea what a lion means,” she muses, frowning, twirling one pigtail around a finger. “Anyway. I also see a conflict. A collision. See here, this explosion thingy. You will collide with something from your past. And here… I see flowers. Roses, most probably.”

“Most probably?” I arch my brows, suspicious. “What are you up to, girl?”

“Me?” She does a terrible show of innocence, fluttering her lashes, widening her eyes and pressing her hand to her chest. “How low you think of me.”

“And enough of historical series, or whatever it is you’re watching.” I finally gather myself together and stalk out of the kitchen, thinking to grab a shower and do something productive for a change. Take my mind off things.

Off him.

“The flowers are already here!” she yells after me. “They arrived earlier this morning, and I had nothing to do with them.” A pause while I turn back around. “But I did see them in the cup. Oh ye of little faith.”

* * *

“Who would send me roses?” I grumble as I trail after Kayla into the living room.

“Jesse Lee?”

“No. Jesse has trouble shopping.”

“Seriously? He doesn’t have to go out and buy the flowers himself, only call and give his credit card number.”

But he said he doesn’t have a bank account. He said he keeps his money in his room.

“And they’re white roses,” she says, lifting the bouquet from the sofa. “Who’d buy you white roses?”

My hands tremble as I grab the small envelope stuck on the bouquet and tear it open. I withdraw the small white card.

“Embers,” it reads in scratchy, crooked handwriting that I doubt belongs to the florist’s employee. “You’re the only girl I’d ever kiss.”

Holy crap. It’s from him. Which means he went out and shopped… Which means he wrote this note.

Which means he remembered what I told him at the wedding.

My head hurts.

“Are they from him, then?” Kayla appears behind me, and I yelp and manage not to drop the roses in the last moment. “Jesse?”

“Yes.” I hand them to her, not sure what I want to do with them. With his note. His gesture.

“Well, see? I told you. Double hearts.” She smells the roses. “I guess we should expect snow.”

“It’s summer, Kay. Frigging warm, too.”

“Yes, but Jesse Lee sent a girl roses.” She winks. “Today’s date should be engraved in stone for future generations.”

I shake my head, suddenly pissed with this charade. “He kissed a girl right in front of me. Some stupid roses won’t make me forgive him.”

“Twelve roses.” She waves the bouquet at me, as if I didn’t notice it. “White. Beautiful roses.”

Huffing, I plop onto the couch. I’m pissed, but okay, I’m also a tiny bit in awe of the roses. Never received flowers from a boy before, and I’m slightly giddy.

A pity I hate him right now. He disgusts me. He sucks.

Oh God, I’m going to start bawling again. No way. I pull my laptop toward me, log in, absently check the updates of my Chicago friends. “You were right. I should never have slept with him. I was being stupid.”

“He’s hot. Told you I would’ve slept with him in a heartbeat.” She sinks on the sofa next to me. “The trick is not to fall in love.”

Yeah. Piece of cake. I click on my inbox to check my emails. I do that every morning, a habit I picked up a year ago because of assignments.

“You’ve never fallen in love, then?” I scroll down. “Ever?”

“Of course not. Love is too much work.”

I glance at the roses, left by Kayla on the low coffee table. “Gifts are a sign of a guilty conscience, right?”

“The only signs I know are star signs. Besides, Micah gives Ev gifts all the time, and I don’t think he’s feeling guilty for leaving hickeys on her neck. I think… Hey!” She suddenly picks the laptop off my lap and stares at it. “Did you see that?”

“No, because you took my laptop away. See what, Kay?”

“Customers! You got customers!”

“What?” We wrestle for the laptop and I win. I settle it back in my lap and check out the emails.

Customers. She’s right. People who want to order my jewelry. And not just my friends from Chicago. Unknown people. People whose names I’ve never heard of before.

Whoa. Unbelievable.

The bracelets seem to be a success. The earrings, too.

Holy crap. I stare at the emails, Kayla squealing beside me like a piglet, and all I can see in my mind’s eye is the pendant I wanted to give Jesse.

Why not? No matter what, despite my anger and misery, I want him to be okay, and if that pendant helps him fight his demons…

Damn. If I make money from my jewelry, and maybe return to college and study art, then I’ll have achieved my goal. This is what I came here for, to make it work, make my dreams come true and to stand on my own two feet.

Talking of dreams… A hot flush travels up my neck. No, I won’t think of dreams of Jesse right now, or the half-formed dreams I had of being with him.

I’m here. The older me would have turned and run. Run back to Chicago and my parents, the new-found safety, the cocoon they built around me.

Don’t get me wrong. I honestly believe they saved my life by moving away. My thoughts were very dark back then, and I wouldn’t trust myself not to harm myself. There had been moments life had held no meaning. Wasn’t worth living.

But they pulled me out of it—took me far from the bullies, found me a good therapist, kept watch over me. Kept me sane, kept me alive.

And if falling for Jesse was like tumbling down the rapids with no life vest on, and if hitting the rocks hurt, that only means I’ve let go of the life line, and I’m paddling now on my own. Life can hurt. But unless you let go, you can’t really live it.

I won’t regret my time with Jesse.

God, thinking of him in the past tense hurts too much, so instead I click open the page of the University of Madison and check to see what I need to do for my transfer.

* * *

When I walk out of the building around midday to meet with Ev for lunch, I feel a prickling sensation on the back of my neck and turn around quickly.

A guy is heading my way. Crap, he looks like Nick, only bigger than I remember him.

This can’t be happening. It can’t be Nick. Can’t be.

Yet, without any conscious thinking on my part, I start to run. My purse flapping at my side, I race across the street, cars honking at me, and dive into a busy side street.

“Amber!” I hear a man’s voice yelling behind me, and I run faster. “Wait!”

Oh my God. Oh God. He even sounds like Nick. The voice from my nightmares.

I duck into a shop and hide behind the door, like a prop from a cheap movie, the lady behind the register opening her mouth to say something.

I put a finger to my lips and give her an imploring look.

She frowns at me.

A guy comes pounding down the street, then he slows down to a stop and looks around. “Amber.”

Good God, it is Nick. It’s really him, or else a clone. Yes, he is taller and broader than I remember—but the face is the same.

My stomach drops to my shoes. Ice trickles into my bones. I back away, into the store, hiding between the shelves, trying to control the shivers. I half expect him to stroll inside, shove me down on my ass and invite his friends to laugh at me.

This is hell. Nausea rises in my throat. I think I’m going to be sick, and I drop to my knees and curl into the smallest ball possible, trying to fade into nothing.

I’m still hiding a good while later when the cashier comes to talk to me.

“What’s wrong? Should I call the cops?” She’s not that old, only the crease between her brows and some gray hairs at her temples indicating she isn’t my age. “I hope this isn’t some prank you’re playing in my shop.”

“Not a prank,” I assure her. “The man outside who was yelling me name—is he gone?”

“Your name? Amber?”

I nod, sweat rolling down my back.

“He’s gone.” She shakes her head as she returns to her place behind the counter, and I’m sure she still thinks it’s a stupid prank.

I don’t care. I thank her and step out, feeling cold in spite of the sunny day.

Ev is waiting for me at a diner she discovered tucked into a tiny alley. She waves at me and I go to join her at the back. Sliding into my vinyl seat, I do my best to smile and forget what happened.

Still don’t understand how Nick found me. What he wants from me.

I shiver and grab the plastic menu to cover it. “What are you having?”

“The burgers are divine.” She’s checking her phone, distracted. “And the onion rings.”

“Perfect. I’ll have the same.” I throw the menu back on the table, the thought of food making me queasy. “So how have you been?”

Ev isn’t fooled one bit by my performance, though. The moment she looks up from her phone, her smile drops.

“What happened now? Did you run into Jesse again?”

I think of the white roses waiting in a vase, so delicate and beautiful. “No.” I sigh, fold my hands on the table in front of me. I’m still rattled, and at least this is something I’d talk to Ev about—in contrast to Jesse and the roses. “I ran into Nick Harris.”

Ev gasps and reaches for me, covers my hands with hers. Now she knows everything about those dark years of my life and doesn’t have to ask who Nick Harris is.

“When? What happened?”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t just run into him.” My hands shake underneath hers. “He followed me. Ran after me, shouting my name.” I swallow hard. “I hid inside a store until he left. Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, girl. Makes no sense to me.”

Me neither. “He was outside my building, waiting for me to come out. He knows where I live, Ev.”

“Crap. Should we tell the police?” She bites her lower lip, deep in thought. “Hey, wasn’t he at the wedding reception?”

“You saw him, too? I thought I was going crazy.” Shit.

“I will ask Audrey. I see her often, because we have moved close to her.”

“Okay.” My heart is beating uncomfortably fast.

“Maybe he just wants to talk to you,” Ev says, pulling her hands away when a waitress approaches.

“What would he have to say to me?”

She shrugs, then rattles off our order and leans back. “I don’t know. But what would he do if he caught you in the middle of the street?”

Honestly, no clue. I just can’t let him catch me. As it’s become my habit in the last two weeks, I rub the band at my wrist. It smells of leather and faintly, of Jesse.

“What are you doing?” Ev snickers. “Are you sniffing your bracelet?”

I lower my hand hurriedly. “And if I am?”

“Is that…?” She falls silent when our food arrives, then leans forward again. “Is that Jesse’s?” She gives a small, sad smile. “I do that with Micah’s stuff. I’d roll in his scent all night and day if I could.”

My lips tremble, and I press them together. “And if it is Jesse’s? Will you tell me again how stupid I was to fall for him? I know, okay?”

“Oh, girlfriend.” Ev’s eyes look wet, and I don’t know why. “I’m sorry. What if I was wrong for telling you not to trust him?”

“Wrong? You saw what he did.”

“I saw what everyone saw. But what if he’s telling the truth? What if she came on to him and he was only trying to push her away?”

Innocent until proven guilty?

“Now you’re on his side?”

“He’s been telling everyone he didn’t kiss her. Dammit, I love Cassie. She’s my friend, but this time…” A tear rolls down Ev’s cheek. “She’s lusted after Jesse for a long time. She thinks they are alike. That for them both sex is meaningless. She may have pushed her luck with him at the reception.”

A breath is locked in my lungs. Could it be?

“The guys say he hasn’t gone out once since the wedding,” Ev goes on, “that he hasn’t been seen with a single chick. That he looks devastated. That he isn’t acting like himself.”

The thought of Jesse devastated makes my stomach twist.

What if he is telling the truth?

The guy who gave me his one prized possession, who told me he wanted to be with me. What if I’m the one who’s in the wrong?

But what if I’m not? After putting my heart through the ringer once for him, how can I risk it again? I’m still bleeding inside.

I think for the thousandth time about the lion pendant. I really am going to go over to his apartment and give it to him. See him. Let him explain what happened once more.

But how can I be objective about this when I’m face to face with him? My brain stops when I’m near him, when I see his eyes, hear his voice—which is why I’ve been avoiding him. Even hearing the voice messages he’d been leaving me threatens my resolve, so I’ve begun deleting them without hearing them.

But he hasn’t gone out. Hasn’t been with another girl.

My head spinning, I poke at my burger and onion rings, then end up drinking my soda and ignoring the rest. Ev, on the contrary, has been scarfing down everything so fast I’m afraid she’ll choke.

“Hey, slow down. Doesn’t Micah give you enough to eat?” I steal one of her onion rings—because hers look so much better than mine, of course—and deftly snatch my hand back before she slaps at it. “Must be the workout he puts you through every night, I guess.”

She scowls at me.

“Seriously…” I swallow hard. “May I ask you for a favor?”

She chews on a bite of her burger, her golden eyes narrowing. “You want Micah’s diet plan?”

“Not likely. After seeing how hungry he lets you go…” I put down my soda. “No, I’d like you to check a name through the system.”

“The system?”

“Yeah, the social system. Can you do that?”

“What do you think I am, FBI?” But she’s laughing. “I could try, I guess. Ask Audrey’s mother if she could do some digging for me. What name would that be?”

“Helen.” I lick my suddenly dry lips. “Helen McRoy.”

What am I doing?

“Helen McRoy. Anything else you can tell me about her?”

“She was here in Madison, living on the streets, maybe four or five years ago. Then she left and her tracks vanished. I want to know… if she’s dead. What happened to her.”

Ev puts down her half-eaten burger. “Okay. Is it someone you used to know? Does it have to do with Nick?”

“No. Nothing to do with Nick, and I didn’t know her. But she was important to someone.”

Someone I care about. Someone who asked me to trust him.

And no matter how scared that makes me, I think I want to try.

* * *

I spend the rest of my day making jewelry and preparing packages for the orders I received. Dizzily I move about the house—telling myself it’s because of the orders that keep rolling in, but knowing deep inside that it’s because of finally deciding to trust Jesse.

As soon as I made up my mind, all the things he told me, the things he did—the things I tried to forget in my anger—return, and I dance around the apartment, glad Kayla isn’t there to see me. She’s gone out to meet with some friends, leaving me alone.

Which is a good thing, because when the doorbell rings and a package is placed in my hands, with a request to sign in order to receive it, I’m in a complete daze.

I sign, close the door and I wander back into the living room where I drop onto the sofa. I zero in on the small card immediately.

“I miss you, Embers.”

The words on the small card blur in my eyes. Oh JJ. I miss you, too.

Turns out I didn’t need to hear his voice or see his face for my resolve to crumble. The memory of him was enough.

I open the box and smile when I see the chocolates. Roses or chocolates, he’d said, or whatever you like.

Heart thumping, I consider calling him right now. I even pick up my cell phone from the table, but no. I need to do this in person, looking into his eyes.

Tonight. It’s his day off, and yeah, funny how I know by heart which are his afternoons and days off, how I’ve stored them in my brain as vital information. I’ll pass by tonight to talk with him and give him the pendant.

Meanwhile, lots of little packages are ready to be mailed, so I leave the chocolates on my bed, grab everything and head out.

My heart is light for the first time since the wedding. Or maybe since ever. Shedding the doubt and anger was a conscious decision. Choosing to love Jesse wasn’t, but it’s all coming together.

I’ve lived the past few years in a bubble, taking no risks, making no moves. Now I’m treading deep water. Taking the plunge was the hardest part. I need to keep swimming and trust in my instinct. In my feelings.

In him.

As I push the door closed with my hip, loaded with two plastic bags full of my packaged jewelry, my cell rings. My thoughts on Jesse, I drop the bags and whip out the cell.

“Yeah?” Breathless, I sit on the top step of the stairs.

“Amber? Is everything okay, were you running?”

I snort. “Ev. No, I wasn’t. I’m heading to the post office.”

“I’ve got some news for you. About Nick Harris.”

Frowning, I change the cell to my other ear. “What did you find out?”

“Nick has found God.”

I blink. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

“He’s a priest?”

“No, not yet anyway. But he’s openly repented in the church he attends about his past ways, and has promised to do only good from now on. He volunteers for charities, helps out with the homeless… You name it.”

“Can’t believe it.” I rub my forehead. I can feel a headache starting. “He was a frigging bully, for chrissakes.”

“A repentant one. Also some awful stuff came out about his family. His older brother bullied him, too, apparently.”

“Not good enough,” I grumble. It isn’t. Wasn’t Asher also bullied by his father? I remember the story Ev told me. But he turned out just fine. “Not even close.”

“I know.” She sighs into the phone. “Anyway. I wanted to let you know, oh and that he works for an event organizer. The one who organized Asher’s and Audrey’s wedding reception. No wonder we both saw him there. He must have found your address on the guest list.”

“Crap.” Fear shudders through me.

“Look, I got to go now. Come have a coffee with me in the afternoon? There’s this new café near State Street, and Kayla might drop by, too. We can talk about this.”

I get the name and address of the café, and promise to go. Then I disconnect and let out a long breath.

Coffee with the girls is always fun. There will be some gossip and plans to go shopping, or do our hair or watch a movie. I love those girls. Yeah, Kayla has been growing on me, too.

But truth is, I can’t take my mind off Jesse, and I can’t wait for evening when he’s off work to finally see him.

* * *

After a morning of running about, mailing my packages and shopping—I love Kayla, but her dinner options are a toss between tortilla chips with dip and ice cream—I’m looking forward to meeting the girls and grabbing some lunch there.

Stomach grumbling, I put away the groceries, drink some cold water, and head back out. Tall trees line part of the street, foliage rustling, throwing dappled shadows on the sidewalk. I pull down my sunglasses and squint up into the bright sunlight.

“Amber!” someone calls, and I stiffen. “Can we talk?”

Nick Harris is striding toward me, dressed in a blue T-shirt with a smiley face on it and white shorts. His handsome face is drawn into a small frown.

His hated, arrogant face, the face that sneered at me and laughed at me too many times to count while he and his minions broke my pens, tore my notebooks, called me names and circulated awful rumors about me.

“Why would I want to talk to you?” I bite out the words, surprised that the tremor inside me doesn’t reach my voice. “Go away, Nick. I’m not weak anymore.”

“You never were,” he says, and I wait for him to catch up with me, not even sure why. “Would you have coffee with me?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Is he serious? “What do you want?”

“Fair enough.” He smiles, rubs his chin. His blue eyes are clear when he looks back up. “I know I hurt you in the past, Amber, and since I found out you were back in town, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?” The million dollar question.

“To say I’m sorry.”

His words hang in the bright sunlight, incongruous and unexpected, despite what Ev told me this morning.

I don’t know what to say, how to react. Is everything okay because he’s sorry? Can I forgive him? He pushed me to the very edge of sanity. He pushed me until I thought life wasn’t what it’s cracked up to be. That ending it might be a solution.

I turn to go, my muscles shaking with the need to start running until I can’t go on anymore. “Good for you,” I whisper.

“Please.” He circles me, holding out something. “My card. Take it. I know what I did was unforgivable. But who knows? Maybe one day you will find it in you to forgive me. If there’s anything I can do for you, all you have to do is ask.”

Okay. Who is this guy, and what has he done with Nick Harris? I take his card, numb, nod, and watch him walk away.

Jesus. With a shudder, I stick his card into my purse and draw in a fortifying breath. I survived the meeting. I faced my bully and didn’t flinch. Didn’t run away.

A smile spreads on my face. I did it. I faced my fear.

With this, I figure I’ve had my dose of unwanted encounters for the day. Things can only get better, right?

So it’s a shock to my system when I arrive at the café on Lake Street and find Cassie outside, by the door.

Blond hair loose, dressed in a long dress, she looks like a fairy.

An evil fairy.

I stop and face her. I’m on a roll. “You. I don’t believe Jesse came onto you. Not for a second.”

She shrugs, her mouth downturned at the corners. “I never said he did.”

I gape at her. Words are failing me. I never thought she’d admit it.

“You and everyone else assumed he was the one who flirted with me and kissed me. You have no faith in him, and you’re right not to.” She pushes off the wall and sighs. “I’m doing you a favor, don’t you see? Jesse is like me: he doesn’t like attachments. He’s not the kind of boy you need.”

“But I’m the kind of girl he needs,” I say, finding I believe the words as they spill from my mouth. “And even more importantly, he’s the boy I love. So I’d appreciate it if you stopped getting in the way.”

Looks like the strangeness of the day isn’t yet over, but damn, saying those words to the bitch’s face sure felt good.