I didn’t hear from Dan the next day, nor the following. I’d almost given up hope I would until Monday morning between my Musical Theory class and Composition when my phone vibrated in my desk drawer.

“Hello?” I answered the cell as I gathered my things to go to the lecture hall.

“Lissa?”

“This is she.”

“Hey. It’s Dan.”

I hadn’t recognized the phone number since I didn’t have his name in my contacts. “Hi. I didn’t expect to hear from you.” My tone wasn’t ugly, more detached, even though I was secretly thrilled to have him on the other line. I’d been manhandled too many times in the past—I wouldn’t welcome it again. My defenses were up, my inner-security back on high alert.

“I’m sorry. I had hoped we could go out Saturday night. When I got home, I crashed. I didn’t even change clothes. I woke up mid-day on Saturday and had the worst allergy attack I’ve had in years. Brett ended up taking me to the ER that night for allergy shots. They knocked me out most of yesterday, and I was a pretty scary sight, anyhow. This morning was the first time I’ve felt human since I saw you.”

Now I felt like an ass. “That’s horrible. What are you allergic to?”

“Do you have a cat?”

I dropped everything I’d been balancing on one arm in order to gasp and cover my mouth. “Oh my God. Please tell me you’re not allergic to cats.”

“Violently.”

“But you didn’t have a reaction while you were there?”

“The only thing I can figure out is the dander got on the back of my clothes sitting on the couch, and when I got home, it got in my bed. I just sent you a picture for proof.”

I pulled my phone away from my ear to look at what he’d sent and wheezed when I took in a huge gust of air. His eyes were swollen shut, cheeks puffy and splotchy red, and his raw nose was evidence of the number of times he’d blown it.

“Dan, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I didn’t even think about it. Cosmo isn’t super friendly with other people. Actually, he’s really anti-social, so he never made an appearance.”

“Don’t feel bad. I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t want to see you again. But, um, feel free to delete that text immediately.”

I laughed. “I promise. I hate to cut it short, but I have class in less than five minutes and have to go to another building to get there.”

“Are you free for dinner tonight?”

“Of course. I’ll call you when I finish my last lecture.”

“Talk to you soon.”

I hung up but with a pep in my step. I’d have to think of a way to apologize for Cosmo. Dan plagued my thoughts the remainder of the day. Between every lecture, every lesson, he popped into my mind. I had to remind myself to slow down. A few hours chatting on the sofa doesn’t a relationship make. Then there’s the small problem of details I intentionally left out of our conversation. I’m not the type of person who believes I owe an explanation to anyone, nor that anyone owes one to me. Our pasts are our pasts, and it’s best to leave people’s mistakes where they happened—I intentionally left mine thirteen hundred miles behind me.

Somehow, I had to find a way to learn to live again, a new me, the version I had recreated after I left Texas. I’d only been in South Carolina a few months but hadn’t made any acquaintances much less friends. I wasn’t trying to keep a distance between myself and my colleagues, but it seemed to happen naturally just the same. I’d never been terribly outgoing but had a tight group of friends since birth, until everything happened. When Matt could no longer stand the sight of me, that mentality crept into the minds of everyone else—including my best friend since conception. After that, I’ve flown solo. Just me and Cosmo.

It’s not hard to do when you teach five classes, do private music lessons, and are responsible for the university orchestra. Between those, assignments to grade, and lectures to prepare, it was easy to fill my time without anyone else around. My days remained pretty routine. They started with five miles of country roads under my feet before a shower and an almost hour drive to the University. Other than weekends, I did all of my class preparation and grading in my office to ensure I was available for students as well. I frequently didn’t get home before eight o’clock at night, then dinner, and bed. Saturdays and Sundays could get lonely, but one thing an introvert was exceptionally good at was entertaining herself. With no houses for miles, I could play my piano as late into the night as I wanted and never risked bothering anyone, or sit on my porch with a violin and give the leaves music to dance to.

My life was perfection, except for not having a single relationship to my name. There were only three phone numbers in my cell phone—my parents’, although I wasn’t sure why since I didn’t use it, my probation officer’s, and the Dean of the Music Department, Rob McKetry. Now, there was a fourth—Dan. Rob was the closest thing to a friend I had in South Carolina but only by default. When he’d interviewed me, I knew they would do a background check, and I had to be honest. There was no way to get around it, I had to tell him my story. He was the first person I’d told who hadn’t looked at me with disgust. Instead, his eyes were filled with sorrow…and pity. Maybe that was why I got the job. Maybe it was my ability to relocate quickly. Maybe it was my background in music—I’ll never know. I was grateful then, and I’m even more so now.

Rob kept me on my toes. During our interview, there had been obvious chemistry. The conversation flowed; clearly, we had similar interests, and right up to the point I’d made my confession, I would have bet money there would have been an invitation to dinner. But even after I accepted the job and started working, the offer never came. He stopped by my office daily, sometimes multiple times. Coffee frequently showed up on my desk between my first two classes along with a pastry from the Starbucks on campus. We teetered on the edge of flirting, but I refused to make the first move. I had to know he could accept my past and present as one package. His visits to my door or office chair intrigued me. I even looked forward to them, but I refused to put any stock in them until he told me they held any value.

Right on cue, after his last class of the day, Rob stuck his head in to say hello.

“You’re leaving awfully early. Got plans?”

“Dinner with a friend.” There was no other way to classify Dan at this point. I sure wasn’t going to announce I had a date…if that’s what this was.

“Really?” His surprise caught me off guard. The muscles along his defined jaw tensed, and his eyes narrowed just a hair.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Rob. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Someone took pity on me.” The wink I gave him was meant to keep the conversation light.

He stood taller, no longer slumped against my doorframe. “I didn’t know you had spare time to fill?”

Men. He’s the only person in the building I have regular conversations with. There was no way he could have missed that I was new in town and didn’t know anyone, not to mention I was always here. They never want what’s right in front of them until someone else shows interest.

Continuing to pack my bag, I peered up without lifting my head. “Really, Rob? What did you think I was doing other than working? Who did you think I’ve been spending all my free time with?” My hands flew across the keyboard logging out of the university’s grading program, and I pulled the strap of my satchel across my body.

His bright, blue eyes stared back at me in disbelief, but he’d yet to respond. When I reached him, I placed my hand on his chest and gave him a smirk. “You know, don’t answer that. Have a nice night.” And then I ducked by him.

“Lissa.”

I stopped at the sound of my name and turned to face my boss. “Yeah, Rob?”

“Do you want to go out sometime?”

The innocent look on his face, the bewildered way he stared at me, made me grin. His shaggy, dark hair gave him a boyish appearance that didn’t match his age. I didn’t answer his question. The offer should have come before he thought there was a threat. He could ponder the wave of my hand I left him with until tomorrow.

* * *

I’d called Dan on my way home. He told me to dress casually and asked how I felt about pizza and beer. My love of pizza and microbrews was as essential to my identity as Doc Martens or Chuck Taylors. The debate weighed heavily in my mind about allowing this man to see who I truly am, but the idea of trying to keep up appearances if there were a second date was draining. I wear business clothes to work because I have to, but at home, jeans and a good pair of shoes were as good as it got.

“Wow.” Not hello, not how ya’ doing, but wow was the only word he said when I opened the door. His eyes skipped my face dragging down my fitted t-shirt, to my skinny jeans, and black Doc Martens before returning to meet my eyes.

“Wow, yourself.” The smile I gave him was wide enough to narrow my field of vision as my eyes scrunched up. “Let me grab my keys, and we can go.”

When I returned to the front door, Dan and Cosmo were in the midst of a standoff. The cat’s hair stood on end as he perched on three feet ready to dart for the nearest hiding space, but Dan appeared equally terrified with wide eyes honed in on my little gray feline. I leaned down to pick up the ball of fur and tossed him on the couch before pushing Dan out the door and closing it behind me.

He escorted me to the door of his truck, but before he opened it, he reached out. Just as I thought he was going to take my cheek in his hand, he took hold of a lock of my hair.

“The way the sun hits your hair makes it look like a copper penny.” He tucked it behind my ear. Then leaned in to kiss my cheek. “It’s stunning.” He didn’t wait for my response, simply opened the door and helped me up into the cab.

I watched him circle the front of the truck before he got in. “Thank you.” My reply was demure. In recent years, very few people had said anything nice to me, and Rob’s comment made me realize that not everyone thought I was worthless.

“I’m sure you hear that kind of thing all the time. You know you’re gorgeous.” The green irises danced with humor, just before his smile fell, and a long pause hung between us. “You don’t, do you?”

My shoulder rose in a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t put much emphasis on those kinds of things. Fashion, makeup, it’s just never been at the top of my priority list.”

His chuckle lightened the mood. With the key in the ignition, he turned the switch and glanced at me. “You’re going to love Annie when you get to meet her.”

The way he said her name told me she was someone special. The smile lingered on his lips, but seemed more about admiration than fantasy. It was far too soon to question who people were to him or his relationship to them.

“She’s Brett’s wife. Other than the hair color, the two of you could be twins. The woman has more concert shirts than anyone I’ve ever met. I swear she could open her own thrift store. And she lives in Docs.”

“Brett’s your best friend, right?” My thoughts slowed with the comparison between his best friend’s wife and me.

“Yep. They’re awesome. He deserved a woman like her, and she adores him. I never believed love like theirs existed outside of movies and romance novels, but they’re it in the flesh.”

“So where are you taking me?”

“You mentioned you haven’t gotten out a lot since you moved here, and I’m a pretty laid-back kind of guy. We’re heading to the best pizza place around. Harley’s Taproom. It’s downtown and has seventy-two craft beers on tap. By far my favorite place to go.”

The taproom was on a corner, and we had to park a couple of blocks away. Dan took my hand directing me down the busy sidewalk. He opened the heavy wooden door, and Harley’s was exactly what the name implied. Grungefest at its finest. There was more granola in this place than a box of cereal, but I instantly felt at home. Dan stepped up to the hostess stand waiting to get a table, still holding my hand. I scanned the tables and diners, all of whom seemed to be enjoying themselves in the poorly lit bar turned restaurant. The entire left side of the space was lined with taps, and I was instantly in love. I could sit here for hours if the pizza were as good as it smelled and even half of those microbrews were as tasty as they looked.

“Hey, man.” A mammoth of a man slapped Dan on the arm. I’m not sure how anyone could dwarf Dan in size, but this guy did. And holy hell, he was hot—smoldering.

“Holy shit, Nate. How’ve you been?” Clearly, they knew each other. Dan glanced at the date on Nate’s arm but focused his attention on his old friend.

“I’m doing better. It’s been a tough couple of years, but things are starting to look up.”

“Sorry to hear about Bastian. I know you two were tight.”

The despair that crossed Nate’s face was gut-wrenching, and I didn’t have a clue who Bastian was.

“Oh hey, I’m being rude. Nate, this is Lissa.”

“Nice to meet you. This is my better half, Morgan.”

Dan gave Morgan an awkward look before wiping his face clear of any emotion and extending his hand in greeting. “Glad to see you’re back in the saddle.”

“You, too. We’re going to head out of here, but you guys have a good night. Dan, it was great to see you again. Give me a call sometime. Let’s get together. It’s been too long.”

“Nice to meet you both.” Morgan left us with an endearing grin.

Before I could ask who either of them were, the hostess returned to seat us. Dan didn’t give her an opportunity to leave before placing our order. I wasn’t accustomed to a man picking my drink and my meal for me—but I could get used to this.

“Trust me, you have to have the white pizza. And there’s not a brew in the house you can go wrong with.”

I nodded before making a feeble attempt at small talk. “How do you know Nate?”

“Brett and I went to high school with him and Bastian. We were close to Nate, played sports together, but Bastian was an artist. Nate kind of protected him. They were best friends, so by default, we all hung out.”

“Were? As in past tense?”

He ran his hand through his hair, his eyelids heavy, sadness consumed the air around us.

“Bastian was married to Sylvie Thames.”

If I’d had anything to drink, I would have spit it all over him. My eyes had to be round as saucers. “The musician?”

“Yeah.” He laughed at my enthusiasm. “It was a fairytale romance like Brett and Annie. Sickeningly sweet kind of thing. Bastian was an artist. A painter. When Sylvie died, emotionally, he did too.”

“That’s awful. I remember reading about how fast everything happened. Like she was diagnosed one day and gone the next.”

“Bastian never recovered.”

Wide-eyed, I stared at Dan waiting for whatever was to come next because I was sure the story didn’t end there.

“I can’t make up the rest.” The waitress interrupted him to deliver our pints.

I closed my eyes tasting the decadence of the amber ale. He allowed me to savor the first sip before he resumed his story. When I reopened my eyes, the expression on his face made me tingly all over.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you with that. Keep going.”

“About five years after Sylvie died, Bastian met a woman who looked just like his deceased wife. He pursued her, but fate had different plans. Tonight’s the first time I’ve seen Nate since everything happened with Bastian. He kind of fell off the face of the earth.”

He took a long swig of his beer. He filled me in on the details of Bastian and Nate’s stories. And I just stared at him in disbelief.

“So anyway, it’s good to see him out and about, although I was surprised to see him with Morgan.”

I was saved from the topic at hand when the waitress ushered the pizza to our table at the perfect time. Dan dished up a slice for each of us, and it didn’t disappoint. He regaled me with stories of his life in the frat house with Brett, and how they’d both ended up at the same distribution center where they worked in logistics. It was clear he admired his best friend and his wife. Every word out of his mouth endeared me to him even more. There was nothing about him that wasn’t genuine, but I wondered how long it would take him to see through me.