I felt a couple of tears drop down my shoulder. “So you’re saying you don’t want to hate my guts? Because I’d fully support your decision if you did.”

When she made that same noise again, it was more laugh than sob. “I’m sure. But if you break Jesse Walker’s heart the way I did, I promise I will happily hate your guts then.”

I’d hate my own guts, too.

“Deal,” I said. “Any pointers on how to keep from breaking said heart?”

She leaned back to look me in the eyes. Hers were red and teary, but they were serious like nothing else. “Yeah. Stay away from Garth Black. As far as you can stay away. That guy doesn’t have a soul.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t so sure I believed that last part. I was pretty sure Garth had a soul. He’d just chosen to bury it way down deep, the way I had for so long. The keeping my distance part I had no issue following. After what I had learned, I’d avoid Garth Black at all costs.

“Okay, so stay away from Garth,” I said, lifting my index finger. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Be good to him, Rowen. Jesse’s been through a lot. Don’t make him go through a lot more. He’s been through more in his nineteen years than most of us will go through in our lifetime.”

I pretended like I knew what she was talking about, but really, I didn’t. Jesse had the most idealistic life I’d stumbled across. Of course, I knew what we saw on the surface was just that: the top layer. There was so much more we never knew of other people, so much kept hidden beneath the surface.

Whatever Jesse’s past was, wherever his present led, one thing was certain: I wanted him in my future.

Chapter Fourteen

I pulled into Willow Springs a good four hours later. And not because I’d been making out in the parking lot of a honky tonk with Jesse Walker until we were both blue in the face, as I wished I would have been.

After Josie and I worked out what we needed to, she asked me if I wanted to get out of there, drive to the closest Dairy Queen, and gorge ourselves into an ice cream coma. I said yeah. Not because I wanted to do exactly that right then, but it was the right thing to do. Josie had been a friend to me when I needed one, and from the lost expression on her face, I could tell she needed a friend.

So I texted Jesse, letting him know I was going with Josie and asking if he’d take a rain check on that dance. He’d promptly replied, I’ll take a rain check on *three* dances. But who’s counting? Then Josie broke every traffic law in the state of Montana as we made our way to the Queen of Dairy.

A few hours, a couple of cherry-dipped cones, and one shared banana split later, we’d closed the place down. We’d talked. And talked. And talked some more. Surprisingly, Jesse’s name didn’t come up again after we’d gotten it out of our systems in the parking lot. We just talked about the stuff girls talk about. It had been a while since I’d had an intense session of “girl talk”, but it was . . . nice.

The Walkers’ Suburban was in the driveway, and all the lights were off inside the house. All the lights except for one. My stomach dropped when I saw the light streaming through Jesse’s window. Was he waiting up for me? Was he planning on “sneaking” back into my room? Was he still out and had just forgotten to turn out the light?

“The city girl and the country girl. B.F.F.s,” Josie said, interrupting my endless stream of questions. “Who would have thunk it?”

I smiled over at her. Other than crying off most of her mascara, the girl looked as stunning as she had at the start of the night. “I sure as hell wouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, me neither,” she said, “but I’m glad I gave the city girl a chance.”

I huffed and tried to look insulted. “I’m glad I gave the country girl a chance.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of my truck already,” she teased, leaning over the steering wheel and looking up at the house. “It looks like a light through yonder window breaks.”

“Random Shakespeare pulls in everyday conversation?” I said, shooting her a thumbs up before climbing out of my seat. “I knew we were B.F.F.s for a reason.”

“Sweet dreams, Rowen,” she said, punching the accelerator the moment I closed the door.

I hurried up the stairs, and once I’d unlocked the door, I tried to open and close it as quietly as ancient-farmhouse-door possible. I really didn’t want to wake up the entire house. I wanted to see Jesse too badly. I had it so bad, if he didn’t climb his butt back down through my window within five minutes, I would climb my way up.

Once I was up the stairs, I knew I was almost in the clear. Just one long hallway to go, and I was golden. When I made it inside my room and closed the door, I did a mini-victory dance as I flicked the light on.

“Hi, Rowen.”

Holy heart attack. “Shit!” I hissed, dropping my purse on the floor. “I mean, shoot. What are you doing in here, Lily? You scared the”—she lifted her eyebrows at me—“poop out of me.” I lifted a hand to my chest to make sure my heart hadn’t exploded through my ribcage.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare the poop out of you.” She gave me the closest thing to a smirk Lily could make. “I heard you and Josie pull up, and I just wanted to tell you something real quick before you went to bed.”

Lily was in her nightgown, the makeup washed from her face, but the soft curls still draped down her back. “What did you want to tell me?” I asked as I walked over to the window to make sure it was still closed. The last thing I needed was for a half-naked Jesse to catapult through the window while his little sister was in my room. There would be no way to explain that.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said. “To say thank you for taking time to get me all dressed up and pretty this afternoon.”

“Lily, you’re pretty all the time. I just put some makeup on you and curled your hair.”

“Yeah, but I felt different.” She slid a chunk of curls behind her ear. “Almost like I was someone else.”

Crossing the room, I kneeled beside her where she sat on the edge of my bed. “Lily, don’t be someone else. Because I really like the person that you are.” I smiled up at her. “Don’t waste your time trying to be someone else. Just be the best you you can be.”

I saw the wheels turning in that sixteen-year-old brain of hers. I wasn’t much older than Lily, but I knew what wanting to be someone else was like. I knew what wanting to be anyone else was like. It was a huge waste. A person could try until they gave themselves an aneurism, but we can’t escape the soul and flesh we were given when we were born. The key was accepting that and getting on with your life.

I’d learned that lesson, but I hadn’t fully applied it yet. I was still working on the application part.

“I’m going to write that down in my journal,” Lily said ceremoniously. “Just be the best you you can be.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I stood up when she did.

She paused on her way to the door. “Is that what you do?”

There was the million dollar question. “Working on it,” I answered.

She nodded before heading out the door with a smile and a “Good night.”

Once I heard her bedroom door close, I did the same. I kicked off my boots and hurried to the window. I couldn’t get it open fast enough. Sticking my head out, I checked Jesse’s window. It was open, and the light was still on. I was just about to open my mouth to say his name when I realized five sets of ears might hear if any of them were light sleepers. So calling to him was out.

Maybe it wasn’t . . . My cell phone was a mere room length away. I could text him to get the heck down here, but then my eyes fell on the chimney. The one I’d been so sure he was certifiably insane to climb. Really, it wasn’t so bad. The cobblestones were big, and there were plenty of good foot and hand holds for a person to use to climb.

I felt alive tonight. I wanted to feel my heart in my throat. I wanted to feel adrenaline trickling into my veins. I wanted to be as alive as I felt. Plus, I really wanted to see the look on his face when I returned the favor of leaping into his window unexpectedly in the middle of the night.

My short, shift dress would make for easy climbing, and my boots were already off. I was as set to climb as I’d ever be. After sucking in a deep breath, I slid through the window until my legs dangled over the edge. My heart was halfway up my throat, and I hadn’t even set hand or foot to cobblestone.

Against every indication, I was a fairly practical girl. I knew that plan was not smart. I wasn’t an experienced climber, nor was I athletic, but I was also past the point of caring about what was smart. I just wanted to get inside of Jesse’s room.

If it wasn’t already documented somewhere, it needed to be: hormones had to be the leading cause of teenage injury.

The chimney was so close to my window I could touch it from where I sat on the window ledge, but the next part was the hardest. Giving up what was safe for what could be dangerous. Letting go of the known for the unknown was the scary part.

I closed my eyes, exhaled, gave myself an internal pep talk, then swung my leg over to the chimney.

My foot slid into a deep crevasse. One limb down, a mere three to go.

I exhaled again and reached out until my hand grabbed hold of a small stone. By that point, I was sweating, but I was halfway there and wouldn’t give up. I’d given up on so many things before; I wasn’t giving up tonight.

The next part, though, would be the hardest part. My left hand and foot were in place, but I couldn’t move my right hand or foot without moving both. Without leaving the safety of my perch. Before I could chicken out, I shook my right arm and leg to get the nerves out, then pivoted my core and swung both of them for the chimney.

I whimpered the next moment when I found myself hugging the chimney, all hands and feet in their own little nook or cranny. I’d done it. I’d taken the leap, and all that was left was the climb.

That part was easy. Hand, foot. Hand, foot. Slow and steady and, in what couldn’t have been more than a minute’s time, my head peeked into Jesse’s window. There was no sight of him, but the room was strangely shaped. I could only see a small portion of it from the window.

I tried to be quiet as I grabbed the windowsill and, with some creative maneuvering, I managed to crawl inside of his window noiselessly.

So it wasn’t exactly the grand entrance I’d wanted to make, but making it up that chimney without breaking my neck was the real performance. I took a few hesitant steps, still unable to see him. If I’d crawled up the whole way to find nothing but an empty room, I would not be a happy camper. The steep angles of the roof broke the attic up into a cluster of sharp angles and small spaces. The floors weren’t carpeted, just weathered, plank boards, and the walls weren’t drywalled, so insulation, wires, and cords were on display.

He might have only lived there for a few weeks, but the room was already permeated with his smell. The room wasn’t much, and I hadn’t even seen a bed yet, but I liked it already. It was clean, had plenty of character, and housed the guy I liked. That had the makings of possibly the best room in existence.