Tom watched her go, unable to believe Emily Times had just accused him of not coming after her.

It was dumbfounding. Truthfully, he wanted to punch something. He had gone to her house the next day to talk things out, but she’d already been gone. Trina had told him she’d packed her stuff and headed to Connecticut early. And he had to leave for boot camp. What was he supposed to do?

The thing was, seeing her, feeling her in his arms for that brief moment when she actually was excited to see him, had already put him over the edge. Emily was—no, she’d always been that woman. He’d thought they were such a great love story. The greatest!

He’d been wrong. Now, after standing face-to-face with her, he was ticked. She’d left him confused and angry and hopeless all over again. Clenching his hand into a fist, he trudged toward the hotel.

He thought of how he’d had other girlfriends. He wasn’t some freak who got out the old box of pictures from his closet after breakups. Well, fine, maybe he was. He thought of that box. The one with all the things of Emily he’d never been able to get rid of. Pictures of them since they were young his mother had stored for him. Now, he had it in his closet in Park City.

Gripping a hand into a fist, all he wanted to do was talk to her. Ask her if it would have made a difference if he would have come after her. Had she really wanted that? As he stepped into the elevator, he thought of how she had just broken up with her boyfriend. He wanted to punch the guy, because he’d clearly hurt her. Except this wasn’t high school. This wasn’t dumb Tim Blather, who’d insulted her one day in jest at cheerleading practice. It wasn’t senior year, when they’d been each other’s everything. That year, he had seen his life with her. Their life, their dog, their house. He’d had everything worked out. It had included her going to school and becoming an attorney too.

Then she’d given his ring back and told him he was a dreamer. What did that mean? This had been the burning question inside of him for the past ten years. What did that mean?

A lump caught in his throat, and he cursed, forcing back the emotion. Sucking in a breath, he followed the hallway to his hotel room. Now he found out she regretted that night? What else did she regret?

When he opened the door to his room, Will was down on the floor doing push-ups. “Why didn’t you wake me? I need to run.”

Tom pushed past him, going to the sliding door of the patio and pushing it open, revealing an amazing ocean-side view. Tom had been given a suite, and Will had insisted on upgrading the room to a two-room suite. Will didn’t care about money, so Tom hadn’t argued.

“I didn’t wake you because you were snoring like a freaking grizzly bear.” Tom’s words came out harsh. He stormed onto the little patio and tried to focus on the view, not on all the revelations he’d just received about the regret she felt. The resort was waking up, and more people were milling around. He heard the clink of breakfast dishes from the restaurant right by the pool. But all he could think about was Ems.

She’s here. She’s here. She’s here.

Will wandered up to him. “What’s wrong, dude?”

“Nothing.” He said the word angrily, but knew he shouldn’t take it out on Will.

“O-kay.” Will didn’t move, as if Tom’s temper was a storm that couldn’t knock him over.

They both watched the rest of the sunrise. Gradually, more people flocked to the ocean as the morning brightened.

“I’m going to hit the gym and go get some exercise for the shoulder,” Will said. “What time do you want to do breakfast?”

Tom knew Will wouldn’t push him with the kind of energy he was putting out. If he didn’t want to talk, that was fine. Will wasn’t the type to push things when he knew Tom was really upset.

Tom sighed, still staring at the ocean. “You were right,” he said quietly.

“You have to be a little more specific on that, bro. I mean, I’m right about most things. The tooth fairy, that old knife that wouldn’t shut all the way and how you ended up stabbing it into your leg.” He began ticking off things on his fingers.

Tom couldn’t stop the smile. “She’s here.”

A blank look washed over Will’s face before a huge grin took over. “What?”

“I just saw her on the beach.”

“No?” Will pushed a hand through his hair and his expression turned goofy, like Tom had told him he’d just won the lottery. He stuck out his tongue and pointed at Tom. “Dude, I told you. Did I tell you, or did I tell you?” He stomped his foot with the triumph usually reserved for throwing the touchdown pass in the Championship game.

Finally, the initial surprise was wearing off. Tom’s thoughts were how she’d always worn her blonde hair long. This morning she’d had it back in a ponytail that extended clear down her back. Even though they were ten years older, she looked even better. Well, not better, just more like a woman. Her round face now had more pronounced cheekbones, and all her curves were somehow more pronounced too.

He shook his head. What was he doing, daydreaming about how it felt to hold her? It had felt so good to have her in his arms again. Especially since she’d only been wearing a tank top, and he’d been shirtless. She’d smelled differently than she had in high school. High school had been a strawberry shampoo. This scent wasn’t fruity per se, but not perfumey. Like fresh-squeezed orange juice. Wait, had he really thought that?

“Dude! Talk!” Will slapped a hand down on the handrail to get his attention.

Tom laughed awkwardly. So what if they’d just had words? The woman obviously still had feelings for him. “I was running on the beach, and she was just there. She’s here for her boss’s wedding, and she just broke up with her boyfriend.”

“What?” Will let out a whoop and smacked the handrail. “Oh. My. Gosh. This is insane!”

Tom couldn’t help but be infused by Will’s enthusiasm. “It is insane.” Then the morose feeling came back. “She told me she regretted things that happened between us.”

“What?” The anger on Will’s face faded as understanding washed over him. “Oh, that kind of thing.” He poked Tom in the shoulder. “What are you gonna do?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing to do.” Tom grunted and pushed past his brother back into the hotel room.

“What do you mean? The defense is wide open, and you got the ball, dude! You’ve been waiting for this ball for ten years.”

Tom flung back to him. “What do you mean? I proposed, genius, remember? She called it off. And she … regrets stuff.”

Will sputtered and rolled his eyes. “You did one play, man. One play, and you got shut down.”

“It’s been ten years, and did you hear? She just broke up with her boyfriend. The woman looked like she was about to cry her eyes out.”

“Even better.”

“What? Did you hear me?”

Will pushed a hand through his hair and then rubbed it down his face, deep in that thinking mode Tom often teased him about. “She’s vulnerable. It’s the perfect time to move in.”

“What?” No, this was not Tom’s play. Ever. “No.”

“Dude, you’ve loved this woman for ten years, and I knew you both, remember? Emmy Schmemmy was my friend too. She was at our house all of the time with you, following you around like a stray puppy.”

Even though it was flattering, Tom didn’t like the way Will compared her to a puppy. “Stop.”

Will tapped him on the shoulder. “She loved you. Sure, she had things she was running from. A father who left and a crazy mother she and her sister have tried to protect.”

“Don’t call her mom crazy,” Tom insisted, feeling protective.

Will suddenly snapped his fingers, then ran to his room.

“Where are you going, dude?”

“I have Trina’s phone number. I’m texting her.”

This didn’t sit well with Tom. “What?”

Will was back, his finger swiping. He laughed. “We swapped numbers at the game, and she actually texted me. She is like freaking out that we’re here.”

Tom grabbed for Will’s phone. “Quit it!”

But Will was faster, juking him and doing a spin move, trotting to the balcony. “Trina says she hated Emily’s boyfriend. Her words: ‘He’s a nitwit.’” Will blocked his phone from Tom’s grappling, sticking his butt at him to give himself the space to text. “Stay back. Do you remember the way Emily used to look at you? Bro, she loved you. Why do you think I was always hanging around, looking for my shot with her? Believe me, I tried to move in after Tara dumped me, but she would never have any of it.”

This was new information. Without thinking, Tom threw a punch at him.

Will was too fast, sidestepping him and pushing his shoulder as he brushed past. Will roared out another laugh and pushed him again. “See, you do still like her.”

Tom didn’t fall all the way to the ground; he stumbled and recovered, glaring at his brother, putting up his hands in fight mode. He’d done his fair share of training for MMA. He seethed, not sure if Will was just saying that he tried to hit on Emily to tick him off and prove a point or because it was true.

Will rolled his eyes. “Man, stop. I was barely nineteen by the time you graduated, all sorts of hormones. When I would come home from the Naval Academy on break, of course I tried to take a shot at her.” He frowned. “Tara broke my heart, man.”

Tom sized up his brother and thought about his lost love, Tara Lighthouse. “Yeah,” he said, and his temper cooled off. “She did break your heart.”

Will snorted. “Anyway, Emily was all class, and you know that. She would treat me like a pet, as she always treated me—pat me on the head and send me on my way.”

Now, as Tom’s mind cleared, he saw the ridiculousness of this whole fight, of this whole conversation. He sighed and let his hands drop, thinking of Emily’s vulnerable face.

“Trina said her boss made her come, but she needs someone to go to the wedding with.” A grin spread across Will’s face. “You should ask her if she wants a date.”

“What?” The idea surged through him and every part of him wanted to say yes, but it wasn’t possible. Was it? “No.”

“Yeah, dog!” Will patted him gruffly on the shoulder. “Be her date.”

“No!” Tom paced circles in the room, already tortured by Emily Times. It hadn’t even been a half hour since he’d really known if she was here or not. “That’s … like she would even want that.”

“You don’t know.” Will cocked his head to the side. “I think if it was me, and I was Emily, and I realized the guy who once proposed, probably the best thing that had been in her life, was here …”

It was flattering to hear Will say this, but Tom rolled his eyes. “No way.”

“I would dig it. I mean, you guys were friends before you were boyfriend/girlfriend. You were seven when we moved to Greeley, right? I think I was, like, eight.”

“Almost seven,” Tom said, thinking of Mrs. Wilson’s first-grade class when he’d been assigned to sit by Emily. She’d taken him around and introduced him to all her friends at lunch, making sure he’d felt welcome.

“Do it.”

“Why would I do that? No. I mean—” He ran a hand through his hair. “—dude, there is, like, no way I would ask her out. I would rather show up to work with pink fingernail polish on than ask her on a date.” His mind spun. She’d regretted their relationship? It put a bad taste in his mouth, and he was getting angrier every time he thought of it. “I would rather dress up like Legend James and prance around the Storm locker room than ask her out.”

“You wouldn’t.” Will gaped at him. The Kents knew that Tom hated Legend James, quarterback for the Dallas Destroyers, worse than anything.

Before the conversation could continue, there was a knock at the door, startling both of them. Tom’s mind whirled with possibilities.

Will’s lip turned up and he gestured for Tom to get the door. “It’s for you, bro. You know it is. She can’t stay away from you.”

Tom’s heart hammered inside his chest, and he glared at his brother as he went for the door. No. It couldn’t be. When he pulled the door back, he almost laughed in disbelief.

Emily Times stared back at him. “Tom, hey,” she said, glancing around awkwardly, still in her running clothes. “Um, so … would you want to be my date for that wedding I was telling you about?”