God, Lucas hoped things wouldn’t be awkward.

He sat at a table at Lulu’s, setting down his coffee and hoisting his bag into his lap. He unloaded his laptop and a notebook, making sure not to jostle the mug already on the table.

He’d decided to work at Lulu’s today. Not just for the coffee and muffin he knew he was going to get, but because his office wasn’t an option. Alaina was heading over there to work on cleaning things up, and he didn’t want to get in her way.

His neck felt warm, and he took off his jacket, draping it across the back of his chair. The sun was shining in through the windows, that late winter sun feeling warmer and warmer with each passing day. That was why he was warm, he told himself. Not because he was thinking of the night he’d spent at Alaina’s.

He shook his head. He did not spend the night at her house. He’d spent time at her house. He’d left after they kissed, almost immediately. It hadn’t been weird or awkward or anything, but he knew that if he stayed much longer, he wouldn’t be leaving until morning. And he didn’t think either of them was ready for that.

He sipped his coffee, trying to think of something other than the way her lips moved across his, the sweet taste of her mouth, the softness of her skin as his hands drifted to her waist, her stomach, her ribs. The heady feeling of touching the lacy fabric of her bra and then tentatively dipping his fingers inside.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to clear the image from his mind, and trying to rationalize what had happened between them.

They’d both had a little to drink, Alaina more so than him, and they’d both been pretty vulnerable after sharing about themselves. It was only natural, what happened. They’d comforted each other. Plain and simple.

Lucas fought a chuckle. Most people comforted each other with hugs and words of reassurance, not with lips and hands and tongues.

He took another long drink, feeling the warm liquid slide down his throat.

He’d wanted so much more. He’d wanted to lay her down on that couch and cover her body with his. He’d wanted to kiss every inch of her, to run his hands up and down the length of that exquisite body. To touch her and taste her and feel her…

Lucas shook his head firmly. He needed to focus, to stop thinking about last night and start thinking about the task at hand.

He started his computer and then picked up the notebook. A couple of loose pages fluttered to the floor. He leaned down to grab them but someone beat him to it. A girl carrying a to-go cup, a backpack slung over her shoulder, handed him the newspaper clipping and single sheet of notebook paper that had fallen to the floor.

He said thank you, which was met with an indifferent shrug.

Lucas opened the document, where he’d recorded some of his notes and findings. He was never consistent about how he worked: sometimes he used pen and paper, sometimes computer, sometimes the Notes app on his phone, but he was trying harder to be more organized. Alaina’s derision over the state of his office and his files might’ve been what prompted him to finally do something about it.

He transferred all of his random notes into one file, sipping his coffee while he did so.

Rosie brought him his muffin—she’d told him when he ordered his coffee that they had fresh apple cinnamon ones coming out of the oven in minutes.

He smiled his thanks, breathing in the delicious aroma.

“It’s still pretty warm,” she told him. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and a dot of white frosting decorated her cheek. She must’ve been in back, frosting cupcakes or cookies when she’d pulled the muffin for him.

“I’ll be careful,” he told her. It was a lie. He was pretty much ready to devour the entire thing, temperature be damned.

She glanced at the laptop. “Whatcha working on?”

“Just a case,” he said.

She nodded. “You don’t always bring a laptop with you.”

He was a little surprised that she’d noticed.

“I know,” he admitted. “I’m trying to…to streamline my process a little. Get more organized.”

Rosie grinned. “Nothing wrong with that.” She wiped her hands on the half apron tied around her waist. “Guess I should get back at it,” she said, nodding toward the kitchen.

“Everything good?” Lucas asked. He remembered what Blaine had said the other day, about Rosie settling into her job at Lulu’s.

Her expression brightened. “Better than good. I’m…” She looked around the coffee shop, at the mismatched chairs and the customers who were visiting with friends or buried in their laptops, using the shop as an office of sorts while they sucked down coffee. “I’m happy,” she finished.

“With your job or with Blaine?”

Her smile widened. “Both.”

Lucas grinned. He was happy things had worked out for her, and that she was finally out from the asshole who had caused her so much grief. She deserved a fresh start, a chance to move on from some poor choices and some really bad luck, and he was glad that both Louanne and Blaine had given her the opportunity to do so.

She glanced at the newspaper clipping on the table and her expression changed. “Is that the kid who committed suicide?” she asked. “Noah something?”

“Noah Dans, yes.”

“So sad,” she murmured.

Her eyes clouded, and Lucas sensed something, something she wasn’t saying out loud but was telling him with her expression and her body language.

“Did you know him?” he asked. He doubted it. If their paths had crossed at all, it would’ve been relatively brief. She’d only been in town for a short time.

“No.” Her eyes were wet and she blinked them rapidly. “It’s just…suicide is never the answer, you know?”

“Did you know someone who…?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No. Thank God.” She took a deep breath and smoothed her apron again. “I need to get back to the kitchen. Those cupcakes aren’t going to frost themselves.”

Lucas nodded. “Thanks for the delivery,” he said, pointing to the muffin in front of him.

“Any time.”

She headed back to the counter and Lucas watched her, wondering who she had almost lost to suicide. Whomever it was, that person was obviously important to her. He wondered if it was a family member. A friend.

A voice interrupted his thoughts. “Who are you?”

He glanced up. The girl who had picked up the papers he’d dropped was standing in front of him, her expression hard.

“Excuse me?”

“Who are you?” she demanded. “And why are you asking questions about Noah?”

Lucas gave her a good once-over. She was young, a high schooler, with shoulder-length brown hair that was so straight, it looked like she’d taken an iron to it. She was dressed in black jeans and a black jacket. A black beanie hid the top of her head. Black snow boots covered her feet. She looked like a winter ninja.

“Name’s Lucas,” he said casually. “Who are you?”

She ignored his question. “How do you know Noah?”

“I don’t.”

Her lips flattened. “Then why were you talking about him with that woman?” Her gaze drifted to the table. “And why do you have that article about him?”

Lucas picked up his coffee. It was clear she’d been eavesdropping on his conversation with Rosie.

“I’m friends with Alaina. His sister.”

“So?” She was combative. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

She was a spitfire; he’d give her that.

“Who are you?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he said, “I told you my name…”

She chewed her lip. “Lindsay.”

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but inside, his mind was racing. Lindsay. This was Lindsay Hopkins. Noah’s English partner.

“And what are you doing here?” he asked casually. “It’s Friday. Midmorning. Isn’t school in session?”

Her smile was thin. “Yes.”

“Decided not to go?”

She nodded.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be there,” she said simply.

Her answers were brief, but at least she was giving him some. He wanted to keep her talking, to ask her questions, but he knew he was going to need to give her a little something to prompt her to stay.

“His sister asked me to look into what happened to him.”

Lindsay’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

He watched her carefully. “She has some questions about what happened.”

“He killed himself.” Her voice was flat. Hollow.

Lucas nodded in acknowledgment.

“So what is there to look into?” she asked.

“I think she just wants answers,” Lucas said. “They weren’t terribly close over the last few years. She’s significantly older. She wants to learn what she can about what he might’ve been going through, the circumstances that might’ve led to him making this…this choice.”

Lindsay glanced down, toeing the floor with her boot. “He was going through a rough time.”

Lucas nodded, steadying his reaction. “How so?”

“Just normal high school shit,” she said.

He waited for her to elaborate, but she just blew at a strand of wayward hair.

“You were friends, right?” Lucas asked.

She hesitated before nodding.

“Was he depressed?”

“Every high school kid is depressed.”

“Fair enough,” Lucas said. “Did you think he was depressed enough to be suicidal? Did he ever say anything to you that made you worry he might do something drastic?”

Lindsay wouldn’t look at him. She gazed around the coffee shop.

“No,” she finally said.

Lucas didn’t believe her. “You sure?”

She finally turned his way. The hardened expression was gone, and for a split second she looked worried. Scared.

“I just… I can’t believe he did it.” Her voice trembled. “I don’t understand.”

“Why do you think he did it?” Lucas asked.

She bit her lip and looked to the ceiling, blinking hard to keep the tears from falling. “I don’t know,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. “I don’t know. But I wish he hadn’t.” Her breath was ragged, her expression as raw and as honest as her words. “I…I miss him.”

Lucas felt a pang of sympathy. “I’m sure you do.”

He thought about the things he knew for certain when it came to Noah Dans, and the things that were just speculation. The girl standing in front of him wasn’t telling him much with her words, but it was impossible not to hear what she was saying.

She was telling him that Noah Dans had killed himself.

He had committed suicide.

This girl had known Noah, perhaps better than anyone. She might not want to be forthcoming with details, but she was essentially telling Lucas everything he needed to know.

“I’m sorry he’s gone,” Lucas said quietly.

Lindsay wiped at her eyes, even though no tears had fallen. “I am, too.” She looked right at Lucas. “Because life is hell without him.”