Once upon a time, he was beautiful.

Not because he was my high school crush.

Not because he survived the world crashing down around him like a toxic storm.

Not even because of his rogue good looks, or his family's money – and he had plenty of both to go around.

I mean, how could I ever forget my best friend's strapping older brother the second I laid eyes on him? How could I ignore those shoulders, built wide as the Arizona sky? What about the hard blue eyes that cut through everyone? The chiseled jaw framing the world's warmest, sweetest, most mischievous smirk?

How can I pretend I didn't squeeze my thighs together the first time he walked into the room a man, wearing his crisp new uniform, a proud Marine ready for duty? He turned every woman's cheeks in the neighborhood a subtle red. His special gift, and he knew exactly how to use it to get his way.

He was dangerous, scary, and still divine in his heresy.

He kept his charms close, and his secrets closer.

But even when he was a tease, a frustration, and a damn enigma all at once, he was gorgeous.

As long as I live, I'll never see Knox Carlisle as anything less than a striking, brilliant, beautiful beast.

Not even after the night he left, and came home ugly.

* * *

“Knox, you don't have to do this. Don't go. A man can only take so much...listen to me!”

Of course, he doesn't. Not until I beg.

“I can't stand to see you hurt. Stay, Knox. Please.”

When he spins around and looks at me, I'm expecting scorn. But what do I know, really?

I'm barely eighteen, a year into college. I haven't lived a fraction of his hell, only imagined it.

“No more, Kendra. You want to help? I asked for good karma and a little help making sure Jamers treats my baby girl right. It's long past time for me to fucking go.”

I hear the adorable infant upstairs let out a cry. Then Jamie's voice, soothing her little niece, just six weeks old and already losing both her parents. One to business in one of the world's darkest corners, and another to God only knows what.

No one's seen her mom since the week she left the hospital. We don't know where Sam went, or what happened to her. It's got to be eating him alive, but he never shows his pain. There's nothing in his eyes except a tender love for his daughter, Lizzie, his sweetest creation.

Born to tragedy like a typical Carlisle, through and through.

His face is turned toward her innocent cries. The noise stops him with his hand on the garage door. He looks down for a brief second, before he turns his face up, hitting me with a strained spark in his eyes.

I see my chance.

“You hear that?” I say, walking up to him, reaching for his shoulders. I have to stand on my tip-toes to touch him when he towers over me. “Don't leave her. Lizzie needs you.”

So do I. That's the part I don't say, but I know he picks it up subconsciously because his strong face softens. He's listening – I hope.

“Look, I get it. You didn't ask for my advice, but I can't help it. You're not the same man who left the military and came home. This job, the stress, chasing that stupid, reckless woman...it's killing you. I've read about that place you're going, the chaos and danger. I'm worried, Knox. Scared you'll make a mistake over there, and maybe you won't come home.”

“Let me do the worrying, Sunflower. It's not your place. I'll live. And I'll find her when I get back from this gig. There'll be hell to pay when I do, walking out on me and my little girl like that.”

My heart sinks, thinking he's done. Then he grabs my wrist, shoves me against the wall, and holds us there, locked in a gaze beyond words.

He wants me to understand. He wants me to believe he'll be okay. He wants me to think it's business as usual.

But I don't. I'm doubt incarnate.

Having his hands on me doesn't help. Every fiber in my being wishes he'd do more than a friendly touch, but I have to remember my place, who I am in his eyes.

I'm his annoying little sister's friend. Practically a surrogate sis.

To him, I'm Sunflower. Too young, too precocious, and too clueless to ever be anything more than a stormy night's sick fantasy.

“What if you make a mistake over there?” I whisper, trying not to shudder when I imagine how dangerous his work can be. He's told Jamie before about the friends who never came home. Chasing diamonds is a dirty business, and always has been. It's as brutal, dangerous, and risky as everything he survived in Afghanistan – sometimes more so. “You're a father now, Knox. And that little girl up there doesn't have a mother.”

“Sam is coming back,” he growls, his eyebrows furrowed. “I'll drag her irresponsible ass home and force her to sign over custody when I finally get a fucking break. Can't believe she screwed me over and ran. First chance I get, I'm tracking her down. We both know that can't happen until I've done my business over there. Enough worry, Kendra. Please. I'll be back in Phoenix in a few weeks.”

It hurts when he tears himself away from me. I know it's my stupid, careless crush talking, but I also hate seeing my friend in so much pain.

If only I could keep my mouth shut, stop pouring salt in his wounds...but if I'm wishing for impractical things, I'd might as well wish he never knocked up the spoiled brat who left without a trace after their baby was born.

“I'm not asking for me, Knox,” I whisper, lying through my teeth. “Just...please...think about Lizzie.”

“She's all I think about, Sunflower. She's the reason I'm doing this. You think I'd give a damn about money if it weren't for her? She's the last piece of the world I have left that hasn't gone to shit. She deserves a piece of my company and the family name far more than I do.” His voice is hard, but there's no malice. Just raw determination, devotion, plus a warmth I'll never forget.

“Come here,” he says, pulling me closer. It's the firmest embrace I've ever had in those arms that used to pick me up, throw me around, and make me laugh to tears. “Wait for me. Focus on school. Find a decent guy. Keep my little sis in line – God only knows she'd get into a lot more trouble without you. You're a good friend, Sunflower. You will see me again. Mark my words and cross the fucking T.”

Except I'm not a good friend. My mind spins with the painful truths I'm trying to hide. I'm selfish. I'm young, heart-stung, and stupid. You're everything I shouldn't want...and all I've wanted since at least fifteen.

“Whatever. Just...come home safe.” I try to let the resignation in my voice hide the turmoil, the want, the fear.

“Oh, I will. There are worse places than where I'm going. Comes with the territory when this family's done gems since my great grandpa. We didn't get where we're at being stupid.”

“Duh! I know...I'm not an idiot.” It slips out in a whine.

His eyes narrow, big and bright full of sympathy. Everything I don't want from him, still looking at me like a child.

Then, before I know what's happening, my face sits on his palm. His warmth cradles it while his thumb traces soft lines up my cheek.

I can't see through the sadness anymore. I'm terrified this is the last time I'll ever lay eyes on this walking contradiction caught in my heart like a rusty hook.

“You've been good to me, Sunflower. Sometimes I think you're the only true friend I've got left in this town. My own boys from the service don't say shit anymore, not since I wouldn't – couldn't – join them for another tour. Keep your heart as pure as your pretty little face, woman. You'd better have a good goddamned boyfriend by the time I get home, too. You're in college now. Too grown up to keep pining after what we might've been in another world, one where you're a few years older, and I'm a better man without an axe over my head. I'll send you a postcard. They're everywhere over there when the internet runs like molasses.”

Just like that, he tears himself away.

Just like that, I'm flat against the wall and sliding down it while the door slams shut, and I hear his truck's engine become a distant growl as he pulls down the driveway, heading for near-certain death.

Just like that, I'm barely breathing. Too weak in the knees to stand up in time, and run after him, screaming don't go, don't go, please don't go.

I do it anyway, and I'm far too late. I run until my knees burn, screaming myself hoarse like a crazy woman, chasing his non-existent truck halfway down the block.

It's hopeless. Defeat sinks through me swifter than the fire in my lungs, knowing I'll never catch him.

Somehow, I get it together, take a few deep breaths, and walk back to his mother's place. I plop down on the sofa with Jamers again. I'm careful to keep my face turned toward the massive TV mounted to the wall so she won't see my red eyes.

“Ugh, did he even say anything about the thirty bucks he still owes me for pizza last week?” Jamie looks up from filing her nails, casting a glance toward the little crib in the corner before she looks my way.

“Nah, his brain was already overseas, I think. Remember how he always got before he went back to active duty?” I turn slowly, and we share a look. Jamie's face is twisted in a sour frown that says she's only concerned with what a big asshole her older brother can be. She'll never understand the bruises spreading in my heart.

“Pig! He's so predictable,” she says, shaking her head. “Well, I've got a couple weeks to be a badass aunt, at least, and make sure Lizzie grows up right. Hope he comes home in one piece, and becomes the awesome father he says he'll be.”

“He will, Jamers,” I say. That, I'm sure.

He has to. Time slows to a crawl.

I keep counting my breaths, watching his baby daughter every few seconds, the closest thing I have to seeing his face. I'm thankful the little girl has so much of him in her. None of the wild, cold bitch who incubated her.

It's a miracle Lizzie's tests were clean after she was born. Amazingly, her mom laid off the drugs while she was pregnant – more than I'd ever give that woman credit for.

Maybe miracles are real.

I still don't understand how Knox had a single hookup with her.

But I don't need to. My brain is too full of fog over the next six weeks.

Life goes on. I pass my mid-terms. Straight As, keeping a flawless 4.0 my first semester at Arizona U.

My design professor keeps inviting me out to drinks, says he wants to talk about scholarships and intro galleries next year. He says he's never seen such grace and ingenuity in my first big project, an elegant evening dress with enough glitter around the cleavage line to make Cleopatra blush from the grave. I try to bask in the praise, but that never comes naturally.

I share fake smiles with my bestie, and real ones when I see Lizzie's little face light up with the cluster of toys her doting grandma fattens weekly.

Six weeks are an eternity. I try not to ask about Knox, and the few times I do, Jamers tells me he's 'surviving over there. Just the usual.'

He's sent their mother a few letters. They're brief, dull, and straight to the point.

Everything I'm sure his reality over there isn't.

When I hear he's finally coming home, safe and sound, I'm stunned. I can't breathe until I see him, overjoyed because normalcy is finally coming back, and all my instincts were wrong.

Except there's nothing normal when he comes through that door, walks right past me without so much as a smile, and scoops Lizzie up in his arms.

He's a changed man.

I watch him kiss his mother on the cheek and take his daughter home without so much as a hello. He barely acknowledges Jamie either. I can't believe my own eyes.

Sure, he has the same good looks, the familiar flame in his blue halo eyes, and a rage against the world. That part stays the same.

The rest has grown colder, somehow. Different. Ugly.

He's as gorgeous as ever, and dead inside.

My instincts were right. My worst fears came true.

Whatever happened over there killed him, and sent him home a shell.

* * *

Two and a half years is sometimes an eternity.

In the blink of an eye, I'm grown up. Finished with school, working my first post-grad internship, and thinking about a longer one in Paris next year.

But eternity wouldn't sting if certain parts of life weren't eternal and unchanging.

Jamers comes shuffling down the hallway wiping her brow, slick from the summer sweat of a sunny Phoenix day. Her mother's place is elegant, cool, and cozy in Arizona's toughest season.

“Another glass, Kendra?” she asks, standing by the fridge.

“Please. Just don't spike it this time – I'm trying to concentrate.”

She pours us iced tea and flops on the huge sectional next to me, adjusting her shorts. I'm nose deep in my laptop, focusing on a new pair of glass heels I need to perfect.

They're the reason the Eric Gannon tapped me for his internship. One look at my proposal and he skipped the oral interview. For a couple weeks, I was on cloud nine, but now comes the hard part.

The master designer I'm working under wants these babies on the market this fall. That means my name hitched to his brand, and a lot of money.

But only if I can actually finish what I've set out to do. I'm trying to keep the bitchy questions to myself, wondering why my best friend isn't hitting her homework. Again.

Even the quiet doesn't help. She's slumped next to me for a minute before she lets out the world's biggest yawn.

It's infectious. I cover my mouth, and then slap myself on the cheek, shooting her the evil eye. “Do you mind? My day isn't over.”

“Sorry. It's brutal out there. Think I'm more toasted and tuckered out than the kiddo,” Jamers says, nodding toward the room down the hall. She sips her tea. Toasted is right, it's loaded with so much vodka I can smell it several feet away. “She'll sleep like a charm through the night, guaranteed.”

“Sandy will be glad,” I say, nodding, never looking up from my screen. “I know she loves being grandma, but everybody deserves a break sometimes.”

What do I know about kids? Not much, honestly, but I don't think Mrs. Carlisle could ask for a better granddaughter than the sleepy little angel in the other room.

Jamers bats her eyes, her lips turned sourly. I don't like it one bit.

“What?”

“Actually, girl...Knox is picking up Lizzie tonight. He's back in town. Just wrapping up business with Mr. Wright before he heads over.”

Every muscle in my body stiffens. I keep my eyes glued to the screen, typing gibberish to make myself look busy.

Remember how I said two years can change everything, and nothing whatsoever?

That's Knox. He's the same gorgeous shell with the ugly heart.

The man who decided just leave me the hell alone was far too easy when I tried to be his friend.

His ugly heart took a sledgehammer to mine, and didn't stop ramming his message home until he'd demolished my teenage crush.

What happened that night at Danny's party, just a few months after he settled into his life as a single dad...I can't understand it, but it doesn't matter.

I read him loud and clear.

No confusion. No tenderness. No mercy.

It's the past. I can't forgive, forget, or let him get to me a second time.

The asshole rarely speaks to me anymore since that night, except when he decides to acknowledge my presence in the Carlisle mansion with a snide remark or two for appearances. Thankfully, that's rare.

I try to avoid him. Usually, it works. He only sticks his head in to pick up his daughter.

Reality ruined him. It hit after Africa, and wherever the hell he went to look for Sam.

He's realized he'll be a single dad forever, and the wild child mistake responsible for half of Lizzie's genes is never coming home.

Nobody on the planet can find her. I think even he's given up, and it's widened the void in his heart.

“He won't be around long, I'm sure,” Jamers says, stuffing a stick of gum in her mouth. “Seriously, don't be afraid of my brother. He doesn't have time these days for more tricks.”

Tricks? Not the word I'd use for the poison dart he lodged in my heart. But I haven't told her what he did to me, and I'm not planning to after sitting on it for so long.

“I'm not afraid. He's different, is all.” I suck in a hurried breath, hoping it'll calm the fire in my blood. “His attitude isn't my problem. I'm just glad he isn't so gruff with Lizzie. It's the only time we see him smile, showing a crack in his armor that says he might still be human.”

“He's been through a lot, Kay. Not that it's any excuse.”

“Correction: he never got through it.” I look up, seeing the empathy and sadness lighting up her eyes. She shares a softer version of the same baby blues every Carlisle man, woman, and child seems to inherit.

“What's the latest news? Nothing?” It's been months since I asked.

My friend shakes her head slowly. She sits up straight and sniffs, playing with her long black hair. “I think he hired another detective a few weeks ago. Saw him talking to an older man a few times at his place, when ma and me came by to pick up a few heaps of clothes he didn't need for Lizzie anymore. She outgrows the old stuff so fast. We're all about donations for the tax write off.”

I snort. It's impossible to believe a few old outfits make much difference in this family of multi-millionaires. Then again, her mother has always done things differently since losing her husband. Humility and generosity win her a lot of respect, including mine.

“Really, there's nothing new,” Jamie says with a sigh. “Just more chasing ghosts. I don't know how he handles it, working with Sam's father everyday. Their relationship isn't the best. Knocking up your boss' daughter will do that. Kind of a miracle Lizzie's turning out as great as she is –“

She stops mid-sentence. “Hey, creep-o, don't you ever knock?”

I do a slow turn, and a double take when I see the tall figure standing near the wall. Knox is immaculate, untouched as ever by today's hundred and fifteen degree weather. His crisp grey suit matches the storm on his face, blue eyes focused on us like pins.

“Not when it's this house. Where's my baby girl?” He casts a demanding glance Jamie's way.

“In her room sleeping. Where else?” My best friend sticks her tongue out. “In case you hadn't noticed, normal people get baked in this sun.”

“Baked. I'm sure you know plenty about it, Jamers. I'll let you nap while Sunflower does your homework.”

I bristle when he calls me that name. Even after half a dozen encounters where he used it over the years, it hurts. “Hello to you, too, ass.”

The delicious chills Sunflower used to bring are gone, replaced by honest, cruel ice.

“I haven't written so much as an outline for her this semester, if you want to know the truth,” I say, turning back to my screen. I'm so over him, and yet he somehow makes me blush.

It's a conditioned response. It isn't real. Not anymore.

I've learned to hide the redness when it kisses my cheeks.

It's hard to believe he ever called me a friend, two years and a lifetime ago.

“I don't care. Long as you're letting my sis sink or swim. It's her degree. I'm sure you're busy, putting yours to work on making Dorothy a new pair of ruby slippers.” He turns, aiming a quick glance at the heels on my screen.

“Dorothy? You'd have better luck with Cinderella because these shoes are glass,” I say smugly. I've heard both names plenty of times. Always one or the other when he wants to insult my career, everything I've poured my heart and soul into.

“I'm too old for fairy tales.” It's all he says before I hear his polished shoes hit the tile floor as walks away, refusing to meet Jamie's sympathetic eyes.

I stare after him even when he's gone, anger burning in my eyes so full it physically hurts.

“Good reminder I'd better get on my crap tonight now that there's an evening without mom and Lizzie,” she says, reaching for her backpack on the floor.

I don't say anything, just look at my screen, typing a few more notes. Knox returns a few minutes later, cradling a sleepy little girl in his arms. He stops near the door leading to the garage, the same one he walked out of years ago as the man I used to worship.

Don't look at him.

It's as bad as eyeing a solar eclipse, and of course, I do it anyway. There's a different man in my screen's reflection, a mirror darkly reflecting someone else.

“Come on, peewee. We're going home,” he tells Lizzie, stopping to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

I watch their ghostly outlines. It's just enough to tug on my heartstrings, making me wonder for the thousandth time how much of him is left behind his smirking mask. If there's anything, he saves it for his daughter. She's the only one allowed to reach inside the ice chest holding his heart.

He murmurs a few more words to her, soft baby things I can't hear. Alien to my ears, coming from his savage lips.

Then the door creaks open and falls shut with a dull thud. Knox never says goodbye.

When I look over, my friend is holding her accounting textbook, probably feigning interest in her classes for my benefit.

“I'm sorry, Kendra. Something's been eating him this last week. More than usual, I mean.”

“Really? I couldn't tell. He's just as big a dick as he was three months ago.” I'm serious, and more than a little hurt.

I should be numb to it by now. I shouldn't care. I should believe the little words in my head I started telling myself years ago, when I knew he'd never be the same, and I'd damn well better get over it.

But we were good to each other, once. That's what makes this hard.

I remember when we were friends, even if we were never meant to be lovers. I just can't fathom why he's hardened himself to every human being on the planet who isn't his little girl.

Or why he shut me down so coldly when I offered him my warmth.

Why is it the worst mysteries that always go unsolved?

“More tea?” Jamers stands, grabbing my glass off the end table next to me, forcing a smile. “It's the least I can do. I've talked to him before about his rude fucking temper. I'm sorry nothing's changed. Someday, if we hold out long enough, maybe he'll be normal again.”

“Jamers, please. Don't bother. That thing I had for your brother was a long time ago. It isn't like he's hurting my feelings.” Yeah, right. “I've accepted who he is, even if I don't understand why. It's not like we're best friends or anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, you're a big girl. You don't need my help. Just sayin',” Jamie says as she trots off toward the kitchen.

It's true. Knox and I aren't friends. Not anymore.

Nothing good lasts forever, or so they say. And if some things are too amazing to be true, or to last, then the ideal I built up was so vivid it killed me when truth threw its first punch.

I have no illusions. The older, massive, otherworldly Adonis I came dangerously close to loving isn't there anymore.

New Knox isn't the man who used to fill my head full of dreams every night, who drove me around town in his first car, or who hugged me so tight it hurt when I threw my arms around him every time he'd lace up his boots and straighten his desert camo fatigues, before he climbed aboard another military plane for the unknown.

I don't know what's eating him, assuming Jamie is even right and it's more than usual.

Frankly, I don't care.

He isn't my problem anymore, and I was never his.

If he ever really cared – truly, deeply, madly – if our friendship wasn't just a fad or a twisted act, then he never would've slammed his soul shut. He never would've become a pillar of lifeless, self-loathing stone before my eyes.

He certainly never would've given me those vicious glances bent on making my heart more like his than I'll ever admit.