I grasp the last rung on the ladder only to pull my hand back right away. A splinter of wood wedged its way under my fingernail and hurts like a bitch. Cursing, I climb the rest of the way and sit inside the treehouse to dig it out.

The treehouse was in need of some repairs four years ago, and the elements haven’t been kind. It’s rickety and smells like mold. Still, it offers comfort. I set the signed book Becca got me for my birthday two years ago down near the door and use the broom to knock down cobwebs. It takes a few minutes before I feel it’s clean enough to sit inside.

I take my old spot in the doorway, feet dangling over the edge. Free time isn’t something I’ve experienced lately. Between interning, class, and working at the coffee shop, I’ve hardly had time for a social life. Becca took advantage of the time I did have. The last four years didn’t turn out the way I thought they would, but I can’t say it was all complete shit.

The first two years…yeah. Those were complete shit. I woke up every day unsure how I’d go on. A broken heart can’t beat. And you can’t live without your heart.

But I’m alive.

I close my eyes and lean back, tipping my head up to the sun. True to form, I didn’t sleep well last night. Pair that with getting up early to go to the farmers’ market and then running into my old friends, and it’s already been a long fucking day and it’s only three o’clock in the afternoon.

I pick up my book and try to read. After reading the first page three times and not being able to recall a single thing that was said, I put the book down and lay back, folding my arms over my face to shield out the sun.

Practicing the breathing exercises I learned in yoga, I inhale and exhale slowly while imagining myself at home with Becca. We’re getting ready to go out for the night to that trashy bar Becca loves so much. Hell, I’ll even sing karaoke with her.

Anything to get me away from here, away from my invasive, traitorous thoughts.

A dog barks, startling me. It’s close by, and I sit up fast, blinking in the bright sunlight. A golden retriever stands along the fence line, tail wagging. He stares at me and barks again. Like a deer in headlights, I freeze.

It’s Charlie.

I look down at him, heart in my throat. He looks the same as he did the last time I saw him and expects me to come down and pet him. Just like the last time.

“Charlie,” someone calls, and I know that voice immediately. I scramble back out of sight, pressing my body up against a moldy side of the treehouse to stay out of sight.

“Come here, Charlie,” Jack calls again. “What are you—” He cuts off and I can feel his eyes on me. I squeeze mine shut and hold my breath. He knows I’m up here. I could be mature and come down, tell him hi and say congrats on the engagement. Or I could continue to hide, peeking at him through a crack in the slats of the treehouse.

I choose the latter.

My breath catches when I see him. He’s aged well over the years and is more muscular than before. Dark stubble covers his jaw but instead of hiding his features, it enhances them. His dark hair is cut shorter than before, and I swear he’s grown several inches.

Seeing him for the first time in four years does all sorts of things to me. Bad things. Memories of his body on mine come rushing back, and I long to brighten the darkness in his eyes. The ache in my heart I’ve tried so hard to bury surfaces, causing a lump to form in my throat.

Jack’s eyes linger, brow furrowing. His lips part as if he’s about to say something, then he shakes his head and turns away. I let out a breath of relief.

Coming back was a mistake. A big mistake.

* * *

“This is really good!” Doug sticks his fork into his bowl of pasta. “If I’d known you’d turn into such a good cook, I’d have bribed you to come back sooner.”

“Hey, now!” Stephanie swats him with the back of her hand. “I’m a decent cook.”

“Decent,” Doug repeats, winking at me.

I laugh and take another bite of my food. Offering to cook dinner served two purposes: it was the least I could do for the people who loved me enough to adopt me weeks before I turned eighteen, and it kept me busy.

“I missed eating home cooked meals,” I start, looking at Stephanie, “because they were good. I had to teach myself how to cook, and following recipes isn’t hard.”

Doug playfully glares at Stephanie. “Except when you try to substitute ingredients all the time.”

“I guess it takes a degree in engineering to follow a recipe then.” Stephanie winks at me. “I’m still so proud, hun. I friended a handful of people I can’t stand on Facebook just so they’ll see that photo of you at graduation.”

I smile and shake my head. “Social media at its finest.”

“Right?” Doug rolls his eyes. “I never bought into all that internet crap.”

Stephanie shoots him a look. “Half the time, you’re logged into my Facebook account so you can check in on people.”

“Busted,” I say and we all laugh. “So, is anything else new around here?”

“Oh! Yes, there is, actually. I’ve been keeping up with jogging in the mornings and walking at night,” Stephanie starts. “And I’ve noticed some weird things in the neighborhood. Starting with the Amazon house.”

“Don’t get started on this again.” Doug shakes his head, acting annoyed but I can see the glimmer in his eyes. It took me a while to see the total commitment they have toward each other. I spent my first years with them trying not to get attached, which meant overlooking pretty much all of their redeeming qualities. Blind devotion is one of them and taking in foster children year after year can’t be easy on a person, let alone a marriage.

“Get started on what?” I take another bite of pasta.

“I’m pretty the Amazon house is a front for a meth lab, and those weird Johnson twins might have murdered their parents.”

“Ask her for evidence,” Doug says dryly.

“I don’t have any—yet.” Stephanie points at him with her fork. “But I’ve been gathering intel all spring.”

“Why do you think there’s a drug house and murdering twins a block away?” I ask with amusement.

“There’s a house on Randal Street that’s had a big Amazon box on their porch for three months now. They got other deliveries and brought them inside, but not this box. It’s still there, even after it got rained on. And I never see anyone go in or out of the house, except at night when I’m walking before bed. The blinds are always drawn, and they hardly keep up with their lawn.”

“Solid proof of a meth lab, if you ask me,” Doug teases.

I laugh. “And the twins?”

“They’re just weird to begin with.” Stephanie reaches for her water glass. “They’re always together, are in their late thirties and still live at home. And I haven’t seen their mother in at least two months.”

“Naturally, that means murder.” Doug nudges Stephanie with his elbow.

“It could be. I’m only in the beginning of my investigation.”

Doug leans forward and puts his hand over his mouth, pretending to whisper. “She needs a hobby.”

“Walking is my hobby. Nora, come with me tonight and you’ll see.” She turns to Doug. “She’ll agree with me.”

“I’ll go. I’m very curious about all this,” I say.

Stephanie fills me in on the rest of the details, including a few pictures she was able to take while running in the morning. I help clear the table and then head out with Stephanie while Doug cleans the kitchen. We go down the block and stop in front of the Amazon house under the pretense that I need to tie my shoe.

“See!” Stephanie whisper-yells. “The box is still there.”

“It is weird,” I agree.

“It’s a drop-off box. It has to be.”

I look at it, then sweep my eyes over the house. If Stephanie hadn’t pointed it out, I wouldn’t have noticed anything odd. The landscaping isn’t impressive—like the neighbor’s—but it doesn’t look like a backdrop for The Walking Dead or anything.

“Maybe they leave it there for an outside cat or something.”

Stephanie purses her lips. “Stop being logical, Nora.” We both laugh and start walking again. “But that does make sense.”

“Unless the cat-box is a cover for the drug drop-off box.”

“Ah-ha! That’s even more likely.”

We pause at a crosswalk, and the sound of dog tags jingling makes me instinctively turn around to see who’s coming up behind us. Charlie, who’s running beside Jack, takes off when he sees me. He’s not on a leash and bounds ahead, ignoring Jack’s commands.

I crouch down, embracing the dog. His tail wags hard, wiggling his whole body, and he jumps up at my face to lick me. I hold onto his collar, afraid he’ll take off across the street.

“Charlie. Hey, buddy.” He leans into me when I scratch him under his chin, then gets excited again and almost pushes me over. Jack draws near, and I feel him before I see him. Jack reaches down to grab Charlie and his warm skin brushes against mine. Everything comes rushing back, and suddenly I have to remind myself to breathe.

“Sorry.” Jack pulls Charlie back. “He’s usually better. I guess he got excited to see you.”

I swallow my pounding heart and stand up. Jack is a foot from me, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. Sweat drips down his bare chest. I was right about him putting on pounds of muscle since the last time I saw him. My eyes trail over the ridges of muscles on his abdomen, following the trail of hair that leads to his big cock I remember all too well.

Blinking rapidly, I look away and shake my head. “It’s okay. I’m surprised he remembered me.” My gaze goes back to him on its own accord.

“You’re hard to forget.” Jack’s eyes sear into mine. It’s too intimate. We used to look at each other that way, but the time has come and gone.

Stephanie steps up to my side and takes my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m going to head home,” she says quietly. “It’s nice to see you again, Jack.”

“Yeah, you too,” he mumbles and clips a leather leash to Charlie’s collar. The awkwardness increases with each step Stephanie takes, leaving me standing here on the corner with Jack.

He shuffles his feet. “Your hair is different.”

I subconsciously reach up and touch the ends. “I got highlights.”

“It looks nice.”

“Thanks.” I bite my lip and look away, racking my brain for a reason to turn around and run. All I’m coming up with now is the urge to kiss him. Or slap him. I’d like to do both, actually, and the way Jack is staring at me makes me think he’s fighting the same battle but only wants to kiss me.

“So,” Jack starts, and my eyes go to the scar on his side. “How are you?” He cringes at the forced awkwardness in his own words.

“Good.” My one-word reply causes his eyes to narrow, the same way they did years ago when he tried to cover up his emotions. I hate that I still remember the little things. “And you?”

“Good too. I’ve been keeping busy.”

“With the wedding?” The words leave my mouth before I have a chance to think about it. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and the anger I felt earlier is back. I left so much behind because he hurt me, and now he’s moving on with his life like it’s nothing at all.

His brown eyes widen. “You heard about that?”

“Of course. I ran into your sister and Alice.”

“Oh, right. It’s all she talks about. Veronica’s having fun being the unofficial wedding planner.”

I inhale and look at the mountains behind us. It’s been four years. I do not care anymore. I do not care. I do not…I’ve always been a terrible liar. “I guess I should tell you congrats, then.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“The wedding.”

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you marrying Alice?”

Abhorrence takes over his face. “Why would I do that?”

I blink, trying to piece things together. “So, you two aren’t engaged?”

“Fuck no. She’s marrying my cousin.” His lips pull into that famous smirk, the one I used to find so irresistible. I ignore the relief washing over me. “You really thought I’d marry Alice?”

“Yeah. I guess. I mean, I don’t know you anymore.”

My words wipe the amusement off his face. He casts his gaze down to Charlie. The darkness is back in his eyes, and it hurts to see him like this. It’s not my place to care for him.

“I’ll let you get going,” he says after a beat passes between us. “Though I think we’re going in the same direction.”

“Yeah.” I pull my arms in around myself. Charlie nudges my hand with his nose, forcing me to pet him. “I didn’t see him in the yard before. It worried me a little.”

“I don’t live with my parents anymore.” A small smile comes back to his face. “I bought the house on Ridge Road.”

“You live in the haunted cabin in the woods?”

“I do, though it’s not haunted. The scariest thing I found was black mold in the bathroom during the remodeling.”

“You renovated the whole thing?”

“Yeah. I did most of it myself. It’s not done, and it’s taken me years. Turns out you were right about me hating law enforcement. Being creative suits me more, and the house is like one giant—and expensive—art project. You…you should come see it.” He looks into my eyes, hopeful, and inches closer. I want to surrender to him and feel like things are okay again, if even for one night.

But I can’t.

“I don’t think so.” I close my eyes and turn away.

“Nora,” he breathes and hearing him say my name sends jolts of electricity through me.

“You broke my heart,” I say before he has a chance to talk. “You broke up with me twice, and it got harder each time. I can’t go down this road again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t change the past.”

“I know.” He looks me in the eye. “Believe me, I know. I’ve spent the last four years regretting everything I did, Nora. I was young and stupid and didn’t know how to handle shit. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“Breaking my heart was a favor?” I throw my hands up. “Gee, thanks for that.”

He drops his gaze to the ground, jaw tensing. “You were going to give up Berkeley for me. I couldn’t let you do that. I knew how much you wanted to go and wouldn’t let myself get in the way.”

“College ends, Jack. You go and then you leave. But family…family doesn’t end. I wanted you more than I wanted anything. I wanted us. I thought we had a future. I thought we’d be together and would start our own family someday.” Tears spring to my eyes, fueling my anger. I hate crying and I hate airing my vulnerabilities, but I never felt vulnerable around Jack.

“I thought…” he starts only to stop and shake his head. He exhales and looks into my eyes again. “I thought you’d be happier with someone else. Someone who wouldn’t be a burden.”

“You were never a burden,” I whisper. “Never. I loved you. All of you.”

His eyes glaze over, and he stiffens. I let out a shaky breath. Suddenly, Jack moves in, cupping my face with both his hands. He tips his head in, resting his forehead against mine. I put my hands on top of his and lose the battle I’m fighting against my own heart.

Tears spill from my eyes. “I loved you so much,” I tell him.

“I loved you too. I still do. I want to make things right, Nora.”

I move his hands off my face, missing his touch instantly. “Then let me go.”