I can’t get in the house fast enough. The door slams behind me and I lean on it, heart in my throat. Every nerve inside me is on fire, every fiber of my being longs to turn around and go to Jack.

I miss his touch. I miss his lips on mine. I miss his body on top of me, and I miss the tight feel of his cock inside me. I miss him.

Surrendering to him would be easy. It would be fun and very enjoyable…for the time being. But then what? I’ll go back up north, and he’ll stay here. The pain I’ve tried to bury will resurface and I’ll have to get over him all over again.

And I don’t want to do that.

I want to enjoy my life. I want to get a job and leave my mark on the world. I’m supposed to change the world after all, not let it change me.

Stephanie’s voice echoes through the house. I pull myself together and find her in the sunroom talking on the phone. All the windows are open, and the overhead fan is on high.

“Call me anytime, it’s never a problem, I promise.” She pauses while the person on the other end of the phone talks. “All right. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask and enter the room once she hangs up the phone.

“It will be. A friend took in her first foster and is having a rough time.” Stephanie frowns. “The girl was sexually abused by her stepfather. Sometimes, children don’t know how to handle their pain and act out. Melissa, my friend, is having a hard time dealing with the situation.”

“That’s so sad. The poor kid. And I feel for your friend.”

“I was her mentor before she got approved to foster. She and her husband are wonderful, caring people who will provide a safe and supportive home, but I had the feeling the whole time she was hoping to adopt the first kid they took in. You hear about the bad but there’s always this hope in the back of your mind things will be different for you because you can love this kid.”

“Is the stepdad in jail?” I ask.

“Not yet. The trial got pushed back.”

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” I sit on the couch next to Stephanie. “Get caught smoking pot in a state where it’s not legal and you get locked up for years and years. But you do something so damaging to a child and you’re free until things finally go to trial.”

“It’s messed up, and it’s not right. It kinda makes me want to become a vigilante and kick some scumbag ass in the middle of the night.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“You do it for me. You’d look better in a tight leather suit than me.” She pats my hand. “We both know the world isn’t fair. The best we can do is take care of these children while we can and pray assholes like that get their ass pounded in jail.”

“Multiple times. And throw in a shanking or two.”

Stephanie nods. “At least two.” Her phone vibrates from a text. “That’s Melissa again. Oh, she wants me to come over.”

“Go,” I say, knowing the only reason she wouldn’t is because I’m here. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

She pats my knee. “I know. We love you, Nora.”

“I love you guys, too.” And I do. Stephanie and Doug have filled a weird role in my life. They’re not my parents, and they don’t try to be. But they’re too much like parents to be my friends. It took until my second semester my freshman year to come to the realization they don’t need a label.

Foster parents.

Guardians.

Adoptive parents.

Family.

In the end, what they are doesn’t matter. It’s who they are that count.

“Well, I’m going to head to the grocery store now then, so I’ll have something to feed you and Doug for dinner. You’re welcome to join if you want, but I won’t be offended if you don’t tag along.”

“I don’t feel like putting on a bra,” I admit.

“I understand completely.” She stands, stretching her arms over her head. “Do you want to go to lunch later?”

“I’d love to.”

Stephanie leaves through the garage, and I go to the front to lock the door. The fear diminished after the break-in, but the paranoia never did. I keep the doors locked at all times.

I shoot the deadbolt into place and consider shutting the front windows. It would take minimal effort to push through the screen. When I go to the window in the living room, I see Jack’s black computer case on the porch.

I go out to get it, hoping the thing didn’t get fried in the heat. It was sitting in the shade, thankfully. I reach for the door and hesitate. He probably needs this. He does graphic design for work, after all, and there’s a good chance he won’t come back over.

Drop off the computer and leave, I chant over and over in my head. I take in a breath and think back to the hours and hours of meditation and yoga I did at Berkeley and center my chakras. I can do this.

I knock, and the moment Jack answers the door, my resolve begins to crumble.

“Nora?”

“You…you…uh, you left your computer.”

“Right. I did. Thanks.” He steps aside, holding Charlie back. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line back there.”

“You didn’t.” I come in the house and hold out my hand for Charlie. “Well maybe…no, you didn’t. I did. Or didn’t.” I shake my head, annoyed with how flustered I’m becoming. Jack takes his computer from me and sets it down by his feet. I haven’t been inside the Harringtons’ house since before Jack and I broke up. It’s almost the exact same.

“What?” Jack shuts the door behind me, and the quiet closes in on me. The gentle hum of the air conditioner fills the space around us.

“I don’t even know. You didn’t cross a line. I freaked out, and I never freak out.” A painting on the opposite wall catches my eye. It’s dark and detailed, and I’m immediately drawn in. “Is that one of yours?”

“Yeah.” Jack follows my gaze.

“It’s incredible.” I step out of my flip flops and cross the foyer. “That’s the lake, right?”

He half-smiles. “You’re the only one who got it that fast, you know.”

I can only nod in response. I’m the only one who got it that fast because I’m the only one who stood on the overhang and looked down at the lake with Jack.

“It’s really good,” I tell him.

“Thanks. It’s the ‘most appropriate’ painting I’ve done so far, according to my mom.”

“What else have you done?” I look around the house.

“Nothing in here. I could, uh, show you the last cover I did. I mean, if you want to see it.”

“Yeah,” I say, ignoring the voice inside of me screaming to get out of the house. “I would like that.”

We sit on the couch and Jack unzips his computer case. He opens his laptop and brings up his saved documents.

“This is one of my favorites,” he starts, showing me an incredibly detailed digital drawing of a female warrior in front of a dragon. “It took hours to get the shading right on that dragon.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Thanks. And if you want to tell me ‘I told you so’, go ahead.”

I turn, finding my face close to his. It’s familiar and safe and I want to move closer. I take a moment to study his features, remembering the way I felt the first time I really looked into his deep, brown eyes.

He’s grown over the last few years, maturing from the teenage boy I fell in love with to a man I don’t know anymore. His hair is cut shorter and neater than before, and the five o’clock shadow lining his jaw emphasizes how handsome he already is.

“I told you so.” I lean back, resting my head on the couch. “How’d your dad take the news you were switching to art?”

“He told me I’d never make any money and would regret not being able to get a ‘real’ job after I graduate. So very supportive, of course.”

“Sounds like it.” I look at thumbnail images on the computer and see one that catches my eye. I point to it. “What’s that one?”

“It’s just a drawing. Not a cover or anything cool.”

I lean in, subsequently getting closer to Jack. “Is it a rose?”

“Yeah.” Reluctantly, Jack clicks on the thumbnail, bringing up the digital painting. It is a rose and looks just like the little hand painted, glass rose he gave me for my eighteenth birthday. Only this one is wrapped in thorns and dripping with blood.

“Now you can see why my mom thinks most of my art is inappropriate,” he tries to joke.

“I like it. It is dark yet beautiful. And so detailed. Did you draw this by hand?”

“Most of it. Some of it’s stock images that I drew over or used for reference.”

I reach up, fingers touching my collarbone out of habit. I still wear the rose necklace from time to time. Jack closes his laptop and puts it on the coffee table.

Silence falls between us, and just like before, it’s not awkward even though everything about this situation says it should be. We were strangers, then friends, then lovers. Now we’re strangers again.

“You look good, Nora,” he says softly. “If I haven’t told you already.”

“Thanks. You do too.” I smile and reach for his face. “I like this.” A shiver runs through me at the feel of his stubble-covered jaw under my palm. “You look all grown up.”

He gives me a half-smile. “I don’t feel like it.”

“I don’t either. I suppose we never will, right?”

He puts his hand on top of mine, curling his fingers and bringing my hand to his lips. “Probably not.”

My body reacts on its own accord. Heat flashes through me and I cannot find the strength to move away. It’s easy to fall back into old habits. I haven’t decided if Jack is a bad one or not.

He trails his fingers over the back of my hand, up my arm, and around to the small of my back. I bristle, wresting both the urge to push him away and to pull him close.

“I know what you said.” He lowers his head down to mine, and his gruff voice sends waves of desire through me. I want to feel him in every way possible, like I did before. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I never knew one person could make me feel so much, and I never knew how much my heart was capable of feeling until I met him.

No one has come close since, and I’ve been working hard to deny the fact no one else ever will. It’s Jack. It’s always been Jack.

His lips part. “And I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go.”

“Jack.” My voice comes out strained. I’m weak and only he can make me stronger…or he’ll ultimately be the death of me.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

I open my mouth and inhale. The words die in my throat. I close my eyes and turn my head up, lips meeting his. We kiss, and it’s like the last four years never happened. I wrap my arms around his neck and move up onto my knees. Jack’s hands settle on my waist, urging me on top of him until I’m straddling his lap.

He kisses me like his life depends on it, and I kiss him back just as hard. He moves his lips from my mouth to my neck, finding the spot at the base that drives me crazy. He pulls my hair to the side, teeth nipping my skin. I arch my back and reach for the hem of his shirt, balling it in my fists. Jack leans back, raising his arms so I can lift his shirt over his head.

It falls to the floor and I run my hands over his muscular chest, not stopping until I feel the scar from the bullet wound under my fingers. We kiss again, and I feel Jack’s cock harden against me. Holding me to him, Jack stands and slides his hands down to my ass. We can’t stop kissing, and he stumbles up the stairs with me in his arms.

The door to his old room is closed, and I blindly reach behind me for the knob. Finally, I find it and open the door. A blast of cool air hits us and Jack steps in, going right to the bed. We fall down together with Jack between my legs.

I pop the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper, reaching inside for his cock. I caress the wet tip and slide my hand down, wrapping my fingers around his shaft. Jack groans, then moves away just enough so I can take his pants all the way off.

My tank top comes off next, followed by my shorts and panties. My heart races and I long for Jack with everything inside of me. He kisses me harder than ever before and then stops, resting his forehead against mine.

“I still love you, Nora,” he whispers, and then kisses me again. He doesn’t give me a chance to say it back because he knows I won’t.

I can’t.