I’d left her when I hadn’t wanted to, before I could tell her she was mine. But duty had called and I’d been sent overseas to serve in the military. I was back now, heading home, the only place that my roots had ever been, where I’d ever wanted them to be. I wasn’t just going back to the place where I came from, but to the community that I thought of as my family … back to her.

Home.

Murfreesboro, Tennessee.

Where I’d left so long ago, yet never forget about.

So many emotions rushed into me that I had to tighten my hands on the steering wheel, trying to gather my control. The leather creaked under my hold. I hadn’t told anyone I was coming back, wanting to surprise my family, the Maysons, and most importantly, her.

The only girl I had ever loved.

The one person who held my heart, body, and soul.

The one person I’d saved my virginity for.

Cora McKenzie.

She was sweet and innocent, my best friend, the girl who lived next door, the one person who I could look into her eyes and get lost in forever.

As I passed the town sign, I felt my heart jackhammer in my chest. Memories assaulted me, of growing up, days spent with Cora, the good times I’d had with the Mayson boys. It was all a wave of emotion, one that tightened my throat and had my muscles straining under my skin.

After being away for the last eight years, I was ready to come home, to settle down, and to finally be with Cora. But on the heels of that a wave of grief settled over me. I’d left town because I’d lost my father all those years ago, and so I joined the military as a marine in hopes of getting my aggression and hopelessness out. I’d focused on fighting, protecting my fellow soldiers, but it hadn’t helped, not when I knew being with Cora could have made me whole.

But I’d been blinded by what I didn’t have anymore.

My girl. The love of my life.

Even though we’d written frequently while I was overseas, I didn’t know all the little things about her life anymore, not like how I had back in the day. She never told me those things in the letters, maybe keeping things short, sweet. And I never asked, mainly because I didn’t want to know if she was with somebody. Because the very thought of her with somebody else sent me into a rage, and had every possessive instinct in me coming alive. Where Cora was concerned I was a caveman, ruthless, reckless. I’d do anything for her, but maybe I’d made a mistake by being gone for so long, by leaving in the first place?

I didn’t even know if she felt the same for me as I did for her. I was in love with her, hopelessly, madly in love with her. Maybe she just saw me as her best friend, the boy who used to live next door, the one who would sneak in her bedroom window at night and hold her while she cried against me as her parents fought in the next room, telling her everything would be okay. Promising her that.

There were those nights that I wanted to tell her the truth about how I felt, that I would do anything for her. But I’d never admitted anything, too afraid to lose what we shared. I’d wanted to run away with her, take care of her, but I knew I couldn’t provide for her the way she deserved. Not at that point at least.

So I kept my mouth shut, didn’t cross any lines, and I worked my ass off to make a better life for her, for us. Together. I did something with myself so that when I did come back for her, to her it would be because I was the man who could take care of her.

But a lot could change in eight years; I knew that, anticipated and braced myself for where she was at in her life right now. My leaves had been few and far between, but when I did come back to town I kept my mouth shut, didn’t tell her how I actually felt.

That was all about to change now. I lifted my hand from the steering wheel and placed it right over my heart, where the small black box in my shirt pocket was housed. Inside that box was a diamond ring, the one I would use to propose to Cora.

This time there was no going back, no trying to be “just friends” because I was worried about ruining what we had. I was done waiting, pissed at myself for letting too much time pass between us.

It was time I made Cora mine.

* * *

I pulled off my reading glasses and rubbed my eyes, exhaustion settling inside of me. It wasn’t even that late, maybe eight at night, but I’d been going over the paperwork for the bakery, the small business I owned with my friend.

It had been our dream job after college, something we knew we wanted to try and do, even if it failed. But it hadn’t failed. Sweet Treats was the local bakery in town—our bakery—and one that was still fairly new, but well known. We were even starting to ship out nationwide. But running a business was damn hard, and really all I wanted to do was bake, not deal with the paperwork and business aspect of it all. But Carly, my friend and partner, was no good at numbers, so I took the responsibility of making sure all the I’s were dotted and the T’s were crossed.

I looked at the framed picture on the desk right beside me. I couldn’t help but smile as I reached out and picked it up, staring down at the picture of Xavier and me. It had been taken years ago, eight, to be exact.

He was always on my mind, always in my heart.

And no matter how much time had passed he’d always be the one, the person who’d been my one and only.

The “one who got away.”

Although that had been my fault, simply because I hadn’t had the guts to tell him how I felt, how much I cared about him, how everything we’d gone through together, everything he’d done for me while we’d been growing up had shaped the person I was today.

It was because of him I’d stayed single, had never dated, and had never even wanted anyone else. It was because of Xavier that I’d compared all other men to him. It had been so long since I’d seen him, since he’d come home on leave and I got to have my best friend and the love of my life close to me.

And this picture held so many memories. It made me happy and sad all in the same breath. It had been the night before he left for the service, and although it just seemed like yesterday that he’d left me to better himself, these past eight years had been the hardest of my life.

Our letters back and forth had helped ease some of the pain of me missing him, but I wanted my best friend back. I knew he had to live his own life, be his own person. He was making something for himself, helping others as well. I couldn’t fault him for that, even though initially I was angry that he’d enlisted in the service. It had been a selfish emotion on my part.

But I kept that anger to myself, never showing it, never letting him know how upset I really was, how sad I truly had become. I hadn’t wanted to tarnish what little time we had left.

So it had been all smiles and good times before he left, and while he was here on leave. He’d been through a lot with me, and it was those times of him sneaking in my bedroom at night, just holding me as my parents fought, as the violence escalated between them and the tether had slowly split in two, that I’d fallen in love with my protector.

He was the one person who could save me even from myself.

He was the one person who I wanted in my life always, who I wanted to share my body with … share my life with. Forever. Always. The truth was I knew no one would ever compare to Xavier. I’d never have a connection with anyone else the way I had with Xavier.

I stared at the picture, at the way his short blond hair always looked like he’d been driving with the top down, how his body had always been so big, so much taller than mine. He’d had a lot of muscles from working odd summer jobs with the Mayson boys. I thought about Asher and Xavier when they were younger, how they were so damn rowdy while growing up. They’d always been typical guys, ones who drank out by the lake, took joyrides, and did a bunch of other shit that had the older folks in town shaking their heads and cursing under their breath.

I set the picture down and exhaled. I missed Xavier so damn much I could cry. But crying wouldn’t bring my best friend back any sooner, and all it would have me doing was feeling depressed and being moody.

I knew if Xavier had stayed in town he would have helped Asher start up Mayson Construction, or at least had a big hand in running it.

I set the picture frame down and shook my head. When I saw Xavier again, when he came back to town, I wasn’t going to hold back. I should have told him all those years ago, should have admitted I was in love with him, that he was my soul mate, but damn my fears.

Nope, when I saw him again I’d just finally confess, because telling someone you wanted them as more than a friend was best done in person, not in a letter sent halfway around the world.