Familiarity hits me deep and hard with every flash of the beautiful, sparkling blue eyes that I missed more than I’ve ever missed anything in my entire fucking life. Time did nothing to ease the hurt of losing her, to erase the regret of cutting all ties with her after I enlisted even though I had to do it. I couldn’t lie to her anymore, and I knew she would hate me if she knew the truth. Leaving her behind was the only option.

Once I decided that I wanted to be a SEAL and immersed myself into training, it was much easier to stay away from her than I had imagined. Still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

Seeing Quinn as a grown woman has magnified the sting times a thousand. Her beautiful face has thinned, bringing out her sharp cheekbones and big bright eyes. She’s shorter than I remember, just barely reaching my shoulder, although it may just seem that way because I grew after high school. The way she’s curved and tight in all the right places, she has to be a loyal member to a gym. But I have a hard time believing she’s become a health nut like the Cali girls she’d make fun of when we were together.

Back in the day, she always kept her naturally straw-yellow hair shoulder-length. Now her waves are a honey blond and extend halfway down her back.

Tumbling beyond her perfect tits.

She’s not wearing a bra, and I become uncomfortably hard every damn time I get an eyeful of her sweet nipples pushing against her tight shirt. As we’re in route to High Top's in her little sedan, I allow myself to fantasize about putting those big tits in my mouth and sucking on them until she’s moaning my name the way she used to. The thought makes me so hard that I wait for her to get out of the car once we arrive at the bar so I can adjust myself in private.

I need to get my dick under control. Though I still haven’t decided whether or not coming back here to see her was a mistake, even though half the guys on my team were convinced it was, I sure as shit know sleeping with her would be a massive one that I couldn’t live with. There's no way I'd use Quinn like that anyway. I'm only here for a few days, not long enough to reignite something that may not even still be there. I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t forgive me.

Besides there's no way someone as hot as her could be single. But I did notice before she even hugged me that her ring finger is bare. Hopefully it doesn't mean she's with some schmuck who doesn't know how good he has it.

She deserves better than that—better than what I can offer. Between her trendy clothes and fairly new car, I wonder if she’s found someone who can give it to her. She even somehow smells rich, like that mystical floral scent that hangs in the perfume section of a high-end department store. Even if her mom has sobered up like she mentioned in her reply email, she still wouldn’t have the kind of money it would take to buy those things. They were stripped of everything when her father died. I want to fucking spew with the reminder.

Muffled rock music vibrates against the bar’s windows as we cross the parking lot. Maybe it was stupid to visit this shithole, but I couldn’t stand the idea of carrying on a conversation surrounded by rich yuppies sucking on sugared-up caffeine. It sickens me to think I was once like those brainless idiots. If my old man had his way, I would’ve become his puppet like my asshole brother.

It’s pathetic the way I jump at every chance to touch Quinn. I guide her into the bar by gently pressing on the small curve of her back. I pull her stool out once we choose a spot at the bar, touching the smooth spot between her shoulders when she scoots back in. When the bartender comes over to take our drink orders, I turn to rest my hand on the back of her chair, subtly brushing my finger over one of her soft curls. Then I imagine those golden locks fanned out across my bare chest, and my dick tries to spring a hole in my shorts.

“Do you have any sauvignon blanc?” Quinn yells to the bartender over a Zeppelin tune.

“Can’t convince the owner of this place to carry anything that classy,” he answers, chuckling as he shakes his head. The guy’s probably jizzing himself for the chance to flirt with a hot blonde.

Resting her chin in the palm of her hand, Quinn hums. The sound goes straight to my overactive cock. “A Manhattan?”

“Now that I can do.”

The middle-aged dude throws her a wink. Bristling, I stick my chest out as I order. “I’ll take the darkest local beer you have on tap.”

He sizes me up like he’s just realizing Quinn isn’t alone, then taps the bar-top with his knuckles and grins. “Sure thing.”

Out of habit, I survey the contents of the old bar, unsurprised to see very little has changed. Only a handful of other people are day drinking along with us, and 90% of them are twice our age. It’s the kind of place the local drunks like to hang to play cards and pool, becoming each other’s closest family members and pretending their shitty lives don’t exist. It still stinks like old shoes just the way I remember, and appears to be one broken fluorescent fixture away from being torn down.

Still, by no surprise, Quinn’s sun-kissed skin looks exceptionally touchable under the crappy lighting. She flips her hair over her shoulder, cloaking my hand in a veil of honey-blond curls. Before I do something idiotic like moan aloud, I bite down on my lip and look up at the television over the bar like I really give two shits about whatever soccer game is playing.

The moment draws out before I ask, “So did you go to Stanford?”

It smarts to talk about the future we planned, even though I’m the dumbass that threw it all away. But I want to know everything she’s been doing the last seven years.

When I swing my gaze back to gauge her expression, I’m stoked to see her cheeks have once again turned that cute little shade of pink. I always loved her modesty. She blushed all the time when we were first dating, especially after we’d kiss or make love. With the memory of her lips on mine, the ever-present nag of desire I’ve felt since finding her sitting in the coffee joint burns through my balls.

She ducks her head, shaking it. “I ended up going to community college in Laguna Beach.”

I lean back and cross my arms over my chest, trying to decide if she’s happy. “Looks like you must’ve found a decent job.”

Her perfectly shaped brows shoot upward. “Why would you think that?”

I shift on the stool, realizing I no longer know anything about her and may have stuck my nose where it doesn’t belong. “I don’t know. Just thought maybe with the car you’re driving…and you look fucking amazing. I almost walked right past you earlier.” Catching my blunder, I shake my head. “I mean…shit. You've always looked great. Beyond beautiful. I just mean—” I stop to wipe at my face, wondering if jet-lag from three days ago might finally be settling in. How else would I suddenly be so tongue-tied with a woman? Fuck. “That came out all wrong.”

She laughs in a short, nasally sound that takes me back to the late nights we’d spend getting stupid on energy drinks and candy doused in sugar. My chest tightens with the sudden rush of memories. Once you’ve given someone the best parts of yourself, it’s hard as hell to accept they may have moved on and don’t want those parts anymore.

“Thank you for the compliment,” she says, placing her hand on my knee. Color rushes back to her cheeks as she withdraws her hand suddenly. Her lips flitter with a sad smile that wrenches my gut. “You look pretty amazing yourself. It’s probably a good thing you didn’t wear your uniform or you’d probably be too busy fighting off admirers to have a real conversation.”

There’s no missing the hint of jealousy laced in her comment, even though she’s trying to pretend it’s not there. I look over my shoulder to my right and left, then lean in to whisper, “I think I would’ve been safe here.”

“You’re probably right,” she agrees with a giggle, glancing at the elderly woman a few stools down who looks past due for a shower.

Hands in her lap, Quinn’s eyes shift to the bartender, watching him like we’ve already run out of conversation. I hate that she’s uncomfortable around me. I’d give anything to go back to having my carefree girl who could never get enough of my kisses.

The bartender delivers our drinks. “Eleven fifty.”

Before Quinn can reach for her purse, I slap a twenty down and lift my beer to my lips for a long, satisfying pull. I consider clinking my glass with hers until I stop to think what I could possibly toast to that would make her smile.

After the toffee-like brew warms a trail down my throat into my stomach, I ask, “You keep in touch with anyone from Crestridge?”

Mid-sentence, I recognize it’s an incredibly moronic thing to ask. Most of the kids at our high school treated her like shit until I made her my girlfriend. Even then there were still privileged pricks who would never accept the poor girl from the wrong side of town. My own brother was such an asshole to her that I once busted the idiot’s nose. I still want to throw my first through a wall with the memory of that night.

Quinn surprises me by flashing a timid smile behind her cocktail glass. “Ellee Hart still calls every now and then. She invited me to her wedding last summer in Tahoe. She married some Wall Street mogul’s kid, so it was quite the affair. They served two hundred dollar champagne and every guest was given a gold Cartier keyring at the end of the night. I’m pretty sure the chocolates on the table cost more than my dress.”

“Wow,” I say with sincerity, rubbing my face with my fingertips.

The idea of one of our classmates getting married is a hard pill to swallow. Some days I feel a decade older than the boy who went to Great Lakes for boot camp, having seen and heard shit in my time served that would’ve scared my younger self senseless. But as I look into Quinn’s eyes, I can hardly believe seven years have passed. There’s still an intense burn tugging inside my chest that feels way too much like the same one I’d have when I knew she was mine.

“What about you?” A delicate eyebrow lifts. “Or did you completely go off the grid when you left San Jose?”

“Ran into Dixon and Hatfield down in San Diego, three Christmases ago. It took all of ten minutes of listening to those two clowns go on about the chicks at Harvard before it hit me full force what pompous assholes I hung with back in the day. I can’t stand the thought of what I might’ve become if I hadn’t become a SEAL.”

A pained expression crosses her face. “You would’ve been successful, Linc. You don’t have it in you to be like them. Do you really think I would’ve stayed with you all those years if you were anything like that?”

My fingers twitch against the beer stein, eager to smooth the wrinkles between her eyes. I never could stand to see her upset, especially because of something I had done. The echo of her cries the last time we saw each other sometimes still jars me awake from a deep sleep.

“I know you wouldn’t,” I say with conviction. “You were the most sincere person to ever walk Crestridge’s hallways.”

Another blush spreads across her narrow cheekbones. She appears relieved by the interruption of a loud ding from inside her purse. Once she swipes a finger over her phone’s screen, however, she pales to a sickly shade of white.

My spin stiffens. “Everything okay?”

“I have to take this.” Her voice tightens with unease. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Before she slides down from the stool, she slugs back what’s left of her drink. Although I want to laugh at the way she wolfed it down, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Any laughter I may have let out sticks in my chest anyway with the sight of her tight ass moving away from me. For a minute I picture how it would feel to have those heels wrapped around my waist as I slam into her, gripping her firm backside in my hands.

After boot camp, I deleted my Facebook account, hoping to avoid the pain of my mistakes. It wasn’t until a few months back that I finally came to terms with the fact that every relationship since her had failed because I would never love anyone the way I loved Quinn. I was always comparing the women I slept with to her, always finding myself wishing they had more of her traits. So once the decision to seek her out had been made, my buddy Duke let me use his account to check up on her.

Quinn’s personal details were locked down tight, not giving away a single thing beyond her name. But I almost shit a brick the moment I saw the beautiful profile picture of her on a hill overlooking the bay. She wore a loose sweater that fell over one shoulder, long hair blowing behind her in the wind. Eyes closed, her eyelashes brushed against the apples of her cheeks. It was the most beautiful thing I’d seen, and not just because I was missing the hell out of her.

That damn picture tortured me for a solid week. The way warmth radiated from the image, the way her pale lips quirked with a radiant smile, it could’ve only been taken by someone who loves her the way I had when she was mine. By then I was convinced that I’d go crazy if I didn’t learn the truth. I had to see her again. I won't find peace until I know what’s become of her life.

In the time she’s gone, I finish my beer and order another round, shooting shit with the bartender while answering texts from the guys who all want to know if my girl’s still hot. In the past, I would've gone looking for Quinn to make sure everything’s all right. Now it seems too personal of a move to make with someone who has only been back in my life for an hour.

She returns in what feels like fucking forever, another one of those fake little smiles pressed to her lips. I fucking hate that. I hate that time has changed everything, completely obliterating what we had. Because there was a time she was my everything. Now I have nothing.

With the sight of her newly poured drink, she throws me a look of exasperation. “I really can’t. I have to drive back to The City, Linc.”

The muscles in my stomach tighten. I can’t let her leave this soon. One drink isn’t enough to properly explore old feelings. Lifting my chin, I toss her the kind of charming smirk Duke and Rogers are always ribbing me about, because it never fails to make the ladies swoon. “I was hoping you’d let me take you out for dinner.”

Her fingers grip onto the back of the high-backed stool until they turn white. I can’t decide if she’s affected by my charm or if she’s upset for other reasons. “I’m not exactly dressed for a night out.”

“When was I ever the kind of guy who wanted to go somewhere fancy? I’m good with any place that serves steak or burgers as long as it isn’t that yuppy grass-fed shit.” Since she still looks unsure, I add, “If you want to stop home and change, we can eat somewhere closer to your place. But like I said, you look fucking great just the way you are.”

Pink cheeks. “I’m not going to ask you to ride all the way up there and catch a ride back down again. Friday night traffic hasn’t improved since you left.”

“Do they still have hotels in San Francisco?”

Her lips part with a little gasp. “You don’t know where you’re staying tonight?”

“I’m flexible.”

Her eyes skate to the bartender, then her drink, then something behind me. I can’t pretend I have any idea of what’s going through her head, but it’s comical to watch her expression change as she works through it.

“We can grab something down here,” she finally decides, drawing her sparkling eyes back on me. “I don’t have anything going on tomorrow. It’s no problem if I get home late.”

The idea of her on the road late at night doesn’t sit well with me, but I decide that’s a conversation to revisit later. I stand to slide her stool out farther. “Then sit down, and have one more drink with me. We’ll take a cab to dinner. Once you fill up on carbs, you’ll be good to go.”

I hate everything about the way she retreats into a shell of unfamiliarity when she passes me a shy smile. I hate that I’m finally face-to-face with the first girl to win my heart and she’s treating me like a stranger. I hate that she smells like sunshine and everything I missed about California, but I can’t gather her in my arms to properly absorb it.

I fucking hate that I’m not man enough to ask if she’s seeing anyone, because I’m terrified that the truth will be unbearable.