Waking up to find Jace in my living room had been a rough start to the day. And it sure as hell didn’t get any better after that. I couldn’t focus. In the span of my eight-hour shift at Edna’s, I’d managed to spill a cup of coffee, get three orders wrong, and forget to bring condiments and utensils to a couple of tables. I wasn’t on my A-game, and my mind wasn’t on the tasks I needed to accomplish.

My mind was on Jace. Not just on the way his eyes spoke to me, enticing me and burning into my skin. Or the way his tongue ran across his bottom lip as he drank me in with his gaze. It wasn’t even the way each muscle and contour of his hard chest and shoulders stretched the fabric of his t-shirt.

No, it’s his words that have me faltering.

Not a damn thing has changed. Not where you and I are concerned. You’re not over me. Just like I’ve never been over you.

Damn it, one more week and I’d have been gone. I would’ve never had to face the likes of Jace Andrews again. Instead, he rides back into town and consumes me just by being close enough to breathe the same air. He doesn’t just create chaos for me, he is chaos. I want to hate him for it, the way I’ve told myself I did for the past three years.

But wanting to hate someone, and actually hating them are two different things. And seeing and feeling and thinking about Jace makes me feel a lot of things, but hate isn’t one of them.

Yeah, I hate that, too.

I can’t wait to get home and hide within the deepest depths of my house. I’ll lock the door, draw the curtains, and medicate my overwhelmed brain by tossing a frozen pizza in the oven and watching Netflix while I drink a beer. I should be packing, but to hell with it. The mental warfare going on inside me is winning, and just for tonight, I’m going to allow myself to drown it out with mindless entertainment and carbohydrates.

But when the clock strikes ten o’clock and I turn around to find Emily smirking devilishly at me from the other side of the counter, I groan out loud. “No,” I tell her immediately. “Whatever you have planned, I’m not going to be a part of it, Em. No, no way.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please. You don’t have to be so dramatic. It’s not like we get into trouble every time I have an idea to liven this town up a bit for us.”

I shove a handful of napkins into the dispenser on the countertop, glaring at her. “People have been stealing glances and whispering in here all godforsaken evening about Tonk’s last night. And those that didn’t whispering, flat out fucking asked,” I admonish, even though it’s not her fault.

“Asked what?” Emily’s eyebrow arches.

“About Jace and I.”

“And what’d you tell ‘em?” She leans forward, grinning from ear to ear, whispering, “Did you tell them how you two desecrated the bathroom?”

“Shut up,” I hiss, looking around to make sure no one’s paying attention to us. “Jesus, what’s gotten into you? I mean it, I’m not going out with you tonight. I need a quiet night at home.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone!” I slam the dispenser in my hand down onto the counter with a bang, huffing a sigh. “I’m on the verge of a mental freaking breakdown, and you think this is funny.”

“I don’t, I swear.” Emily holds up her hands in mock surrender. “I don’t think the fact that you’re about to have a breakdown is funny at all. What I do find funny is that Jace has you all hot and bothered, and yet you won’t admit it to yourself, let alone me. You need to think about why he’s affecting you like that, Isabelle.”

Her use of my full first name brings me up short. “I’m not getting into this here,” I say, my voice clipped.

“You haven’t gotten into it for three years,” she shoots back. “Trust me, you should have.”

I push the napkin dispenser out of the way, crossing my arms. “What the hell does that mean? And why do you sound so damn cryptic?” I’m agitated, and anyone other than Emily would’ve told me to cool my bitchiness by now. “If you have something to say, Em, just say it.”

Emily’s crooked little grin is back in place as she slides off the stool and swipes her keys off the counter. “The only thing I’ve got to say is that I know something you don’t, Izzy. And, as your best friend, I’m telling you that I’ll be in the parking lot, waiting. Get your ass out into the passenger side of my car as soon as you’re done cleaning up. You’re going to want to hear this.”

She turns away from me and slips out the door of the diner before I can say anything more, tugging on the chain to turn the Open sign off as she goes.

* * *

“This better be good,” I snap, fumbling to buckle the seatbelt. Emily’s already squealing the tires on the way out of the parking lot. Wherever she’s taking us, she’s in a big fucking hurry to get there. “Christ, slow down, Em. You drive like a lunatic on a good day, but this is erratic, even for you.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, my friend.”

“Okay, enough with the theatrics.” I rake my hands through my hair. “Tell me what it is you think I’ve got to know.”

“I can’t.” Emily’s eyes never leave the road in front of her, but that purse-lipped smile of hers is back in place. “I have to show you.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” I mumble, rolling my eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but you’ll thank me.”

“I doubt that.” I don’t even turn to look at her, instead focusing my gaze on the darkness out the passenger window, longing for my night of Netflix and beer. “Can you at least tell me where the hell we’re going?”

“The Point.”

That catches my attention, and I whirl around to face her. “What? Why the hell are we going there?” I hadn’t been to The Point in years. Its actual name is Barlow’s Lookout, but teenagers have always used it as a place to go to make out, smoke up, and do all the things that parents warned them against. It happens to hold a little more significance for me than just a make-out spot, however.

“You’ll see.”

I’m silent as Emily drives beyond the town limit and turns onto Barlow Road, a winding, gravel road with a steep uphill slope. It may have been years since I was out here, but the path that leads to that spot hasn’t changed a bit, and it’s conjuring up ghosts of memories that are better left buried.

She turns the car into the clearing at the top of the hill. It’s wide open, just as it’s always been, and the lights on the water tower on the other side of town seem to cascade out over the town’s expanse. Only two other cars are parked there, and one’s not actually a car at all. It’s a truck.

A familiar truck.

“Emily, turn the car around.”

“Not a fucking chance, Izzy.” She parks her car away from the other two vehicles—it’s customary to try to give other attendees of The Point as much privacy as possible. “Sorry, but this is for your own good.”

My mind is spinning, a confusing mix of anger and shock that she’d do such a thing. “Tell me you didn’t just bring me here because he asked you to.” I’m glaring at her with every ounce of fury I can muster, but it doesn’t begin to express the turmoil rolling inside me.

She kills the ignition, and the resulting silence is deafening. “I told you, there’s something you need to know.”

“Then fucking tell me, Em.”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t say you were going to hear it from me,” she says apologetically. “Now, put your big girl panties on and get out of the car.”

“Emily—”

“I know, I know. You should hate me, blah blah blah. But you won’t.” She reaches across in front of me, first unbuckling my seatbelt, then pushing the car door open. “You’ll thank me. Go.”

I feel like I should argue with her, tell her this was underhanded and uncalled for. But I make the mistake of glancing out the window, and I can see Jace standing there, hands in his pockets, about fifteen feet from the car. He’s waiting for me, and he looks nervous.

Good, I’m glad I’m not the only one. Because I know that Emily would’ve never agreed to deceive me like this if that something I’m about to find out isn’t big. “Son of a bitch,” I breathe out as I clamber out of the vehicle.

“Love you, too,” Emily calls out right before I slam the door.

She’s started the car and is peeling out of that clearing before I even have time to register the way Jace’s eyes are set firmly on me.

“Remind me to rip her a new one for this later,” I say. I’m trying for a dash of humor, but the shakiness of my voice betrays me. I clear my throat and shove my hands into my denim jacket pockets, matching Jace’s stance. “Tell me why I’m here.”

“I can do better than that, Izzy,” he says gently. “I can show you.”

“I’m getting really tired of hearing that.”

A glint of confusion shadows his features, but Jace doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he chooses to pull his phone from his pocket.

My first inclination is to notice how banged up the damn thing is, with its screen cracked and the case held together by a strip of duct tape, but the fact that he holds it out to me prevents me from commenting on its state of disrepair. “I don’t want your phone, Jace.”

“Yes, you do.” His arm stays extended, the phone held out toward me. “Take it. I need you to see something.”

I pause, hesitant, but I reach out and take it from him, careful not to let our fingers touch.

“The passcode to unlock it is 0107.”

Immediately, I know those are the numbers of my birthday, the seventh of January, but I don’t say it out loud. I’m too engrossed in whatever’s about to happen. I can feel the weight of it, thick between us. I punch in the digits and the screen lights up.

“Go into my text messages,” Jace instructs. “Scroll all the way to the bottom. You’ll see your name there.”

Why the hell would my name be there? That’s my first thought. The second is that he was obviously sick and twisted enough to keep the damn message he sent me. A new wave of molten fury floods my insides, but I do as he says, scrolling to the bottom of the text messaging screen. Sure enough, my name is at the very bottom—the oldest messaging conversation in the list. I click it, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to snap at him, asking him why the hell he’s doing this, bringing all this hurt and pain back to the surface.

Then, I realize something. The last message in the conversation isn’t the one I think it is. I know I never responded to Jace’s last text message to me, the cruel one that ended everything between us.

Except, that’s not the last message he sent me.

The message that’s haunted me for three goddamn years is there, and it hurts just as much as the first time I read those words on my own phone screen. You deserve better than the life I can give you, Izzy…

But another message shows up after it. And I plan on building you the one you deserve. Please wait for me. I love you.

According to the time stamp on it, it was sent the same day as the previous one. I can’t breathe as I press my thumb against the screen and hold it there in order to view the message details. All the air is gone from my lungs, and my throat has constricted so tightly I’m afraid I might suffocate from my own sense of disbelief.

Both messages were sent within a minute of each other.

But I never received the second one.

My head snaps up, and I gaze at Jace with widened eyes as the realization begins to sink in. “You...didn’t break up with me.”

“And you didn’t wait for me.” There’s no malice in his tone, only resignation as he offers me a sad smile.

The pain behind it breaks my heart, when I thought it couldn’t be shattered any more. “I didn’t get this message,” I explain feebly, holding the phone out as though it’s proof.

“I realized that this morning,” Jace states. “Far too late, obviously. All this time, I thought you broke up with me. Decided waiting for me wasn’t what you wanted. Yet, the entire time, you—”

“Thought you broke up with me,” I finish for him. “Over a fucking text message.” I sound defeated, and that’s exactly how I feel.

“I never would have done that to you, Izzy.” Jace takes a step forward, his eyes firmly set on me. “And if I had ever been stupid enough to break up with you, I’d never have done it over a text message.”

My mind is whirling with so many thoughts, so many questions, I’m not sure which to ask first. “All this time,” I breathe out. “Lost. Purely because I—”

“Turned your phone off and changed the number the next day.” Jace smiles again. “Emily told me she was with you when you got the first text. I know how much it hurt you to think I...did that.”

There’s pain in his voice, and I feel guilt slice through me, knowing my actions are the cause of it. “Emily told you everything, then.” It’s not a question. I can see the truth on his face. His jaw is tight, and his eyes are shadowed. He knows.

Jace just nods. “She told me you...retaliated. With Chad.”

The blood drains from my face. Seeing him look so pained, and sound so lost—it’s killing me. “It was a stupid, drunken night about a week after I got your message,” I explain. “One drunken night that somehow led to eight months of pretending to be more than we were.”

“You ended up dating him.” Jace shrugs, his hands still in his pockets. “There’s no shame or blame in that, Izzy. You thought we were over. Hell, I dated the PBR’s public relations advisor for a while, too, but…”

Jace trails off, and it’s my turn to chuckle sadly. “But it’s like wine after whisky.”

A crooked grin forms on his mouth. “Exactly like wine after whisky.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat, holding his phone out to him. “Jace, I swear—”

He reaches out for the phone, bypassing it completely and grabbing onto my wrist, tugging me against him. His mouth finds mine without consciously having to seek it out. The connection between us, the tangible pull; we’d be able to find each other in absolute darkness. The warmth of his tongue against mine sends a shiver of hunger straight to my core, and I kiss him back with just as much intensity and promise as he offers me.

“I thought the distance and the time away from here had become too much for you to handle,” he whispers when he pulls away, his forehead pressed against mine as his fingers cup the side of my face. “I’ve always ended every conversation with the truest words I know, Izzy—I love you. Remember?”

I nod against him, feeling the heat of tears welling up in my eyes. So much emotion was pouring out of me, and the closeness of him after so long of being away from the familiarity of his tender kind of touch is only exacerbating the tsunami erupting within me. “I know.” My voice is hoarse, and it cracks under the weight of the tears that spill onto my cheeks. “I should’ve never—”

“Shh.” Jace’s fingertip comes up to rest against my lips. “No more apologies, and no more regrets, Izzy. There’s just one thing, okay?”

I sniff as he wipes a stray tear from my cheek. “And what’s that?”

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, and he leans forward, kissing me softly. “The most important thing,” he says, as though reminding me. “I love you, Izzy.”

Three years I’ve waited for the sound of those words on this man’s lips. Over one thousand days. Except, I didn’t know I’d been waiting. Too much hurt and pride and anguish shrouded my heart to realize it. Now, the words mean more than they ever have before. Because the path he took to get here, to be with me, to say those words, is winding and confusing.

But it has led Jace here, despite everything. Back to me.

I smile against his mouth as I kiss him again, tucking myself into him as close as I can. “I love you, too,” I whisper. “And I’ll never let you forget it.”

“Oh, I won’t forget,” he promises. “Just like I won’t ever forget our nights out here.” He doesn’t pull away, but turns to look out over the bluff. The town lights twinkled and blinked, as though answering back. As though they remember just as much as he does. “Remember, Izzy?”

Mischief comes alight in my eyes, and I smirk knowingly. “If this old clearing could talk…”

“Let’s be thankful it can’t.”

“How come?” I tease. “Don’t want it to tell everyone about the mix of silky promises and dirty words you spewed?”

“I don’t give a damn what they heard, Izzy,” he whispers. “It’s what they saw. Back seat of my truck, front seat of my truck…Christ, the bed of my truck…”

I stifle a soft laugh, then kiss him softly, nipping at his bottom lip suggestively. “I’m not sure I remember what you’re referring to,” I whisper softly. “Maybe you should remind me.”

“I can’t do better than that,” he assures me, tugging me towards his truck by both hands. “I can show you.”