

#

#

# Just a Little Series

# Part One

#

# By Tracie Puckett

#

# Smashwords Edition

#

# © 2019. All rights reserved.

#

# Smashwords Edition, License Note

# Thank you for downloading this ebook. The contents of this ebook are the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means— electronic or mechanical—without written permission of the author, Tracie Puckett.

#

# This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents depicted in this collection are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons—living or dead—is coincidental.

#

# Third Edition. 2019

#

# All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at traciepuckettnovels@gmail.com. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

#

# Cover photography © Dmitri Gromov | Dreamstime.com

# Cover design by Tracie Puckett

# Edited by Nicole Ayers of Ayers Edits

#

# 

# Just a Little Crush

#

# "This is a completely bogus... assignment," I jammed the calculus book into its rightful place in my locker. "And to make it mandatory—"

# "It's not such a bad thing, Julie," Matt took it upon himself to close my locker as I walked away in a fury. My cousin took a few long strides and caught up with me at the end of the hallway. He adjusted his book bag on his shoulder and ran his fingers through his already messy, blond hair. "I don't understand why you're so upset."

# Cool, calm, and collected—that was Matthew Little in a nutshell—so there was no secret why he was the most loved, adored, and fawned over boy in the senior class.

# Then there was me. I was simply the one all the girls in class envied, and not because I was his cousin, but because I was his best friend. Getting personal one-on-one time with Matt was every girl's dream, and I was lucky enough to be the one he called upon for friendship.

# "You should understand," I stomped louder with each step. "That's the problem. Everyone should understand. This is a great opportunity for people like you, Matt. But for students like me..."

# I let out a sigh and pushed through the doors of Oakland High School.

# I wasn't typically so moody, nor was I the first to disagree with administrative decisions, especially when they were for the greater good, but today had been a day from Hades. It'd all started when the senior class was called into a meeting during fifth period and introduced to our class-wide project. The program was as simple as this: choose a profession of interest, obtain permission from a local business, and put in twenty hours of job-shadowing in your chosen field.

# Easy-peasey, right? Wrong.

# Like I'd told Matt, the program worked wonders for people like him, people who had a distinct plan for their future, people who knew what they wanted from life after graduation. People who were going places.

# But what about kids like me? What about the seventeen-year-old, blonde-haired, blue-eyed orphan who had absolutely no idea what the future held?

# What good would this project do me?

# None.

# None at all.

# "Look at the big picture," Matt said as we turned the corner to take the three-block stretch to our house. "This is a great opportunity for you to get your feet wet. Look around, weigh your options, pursue your interests—"

# "That's great and all, but Matt, we have to choose one field that interests us and choose it within a month. I don't have time to put in twenty hours at fifty businesses to see which suits me best."

# If only it was as easy as picking any ole job and running with it. But it wasn't that easy. According to our very specific guidelines, we had to choose a career field closely related to our area of interest, and then submit a detailed, five-page report on our experience in the field, relating it to our goals and aspirations post-graduation.

# And the point of this whole project? As we were told, Oakland had seen an increasingly high rate of high school dropouts and juvenile delinquents, not to mention the steady decline in employment rates. When the economy fell on hard times, Oakland took the brunt of the fall. Our high school, wanting to be part of a bigger change in the community, implemented the program to force students to actually put some thought into their futures beyond high school.

# In theory, it was an excellent step toward progression. But unfortunately for me, it was bringing a sad reality to light; I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Even my plans for tomorrow were a bit hazy. How was I supposed to make any kind of definite plan for the future?

# As we turned to take the sidewalk to the two-story brick house on the corner of Linden and Main, the door swung open and my Uncle Charlie met Matt and me with a wide grin.

# "There they are!"

# With one arm around each of our shoulders, Charlie pulled us into the house and threw a sideways glance from Matt to me, and then back to Matt. It was easy to tell that he was up to something because Charlie was notorious for (lovingly) sticking his nose where it didn't belong. I could only assume that there was more to his happy greeting than we immediately knew.

# "What's going on, Dad?" my cousin weaseled his way out of his father's grip and tossed his book bag in the corner.

# Charlie tightened his grip around my shoulder and squeezed. "Anything special happen at school today?"

# We exchanged glances, neither of us sure how to respond, and my uncle loosened his grip to step back.

# "Come on, guys," he said, dropping his arms. "The assembly. The new job-shadowing program—"

# "How'd you hear about that?" I watched him with a suspicious eye. "It only happened two hours ago."

# "Small town," Matt mumbled, turning back to his dad. Obviously he suspected Charlie was up to something, too. He gave his father a look that said he didn't quite trust his expression. "What's with the enthusiasm, Dad? You're acting like it was your idea."

# "It was my idea," he raised his chest proudly.

# When Matt and I exchanged eye rolls, Charlie threw his hands in the air.

# "Excuse me if I'm tired of watching Oakland seep through the cracks," he said, no longer as jolly as he'd been five seconds ago. "This community has excellent potential, but you kids are failing to recognize it. Now, I've gotten almost every business in town to agree to the program, and now all we have to do is get your generation excited about it." Looking between us for the hundredth time, Charlie shook his head. "And from the looks on your faces, I can already tell that's going to be next to impossible."

# I stared at Charlie with parted lips, wanting to give him a good swift thump across the head. So he was the genius behind this grand plan?

# "Nice goin', Dad," Matt walked from the foyer to the kitchen at the far end of the house.

# Charlie remained firmly in place, watching me with a goofy grin. "Well, what do you think?"

# "I think... I love you," I started, "but I'm two seconds away from killing you."

# "Well," he leaned back on his heels and adjusted the belt under his bulging belly, "that's certainly not the most appropriate way to thank the Oakland Police Chief—"

# "I'm not talking to the Chief right now," I said. "I'm talking to my Uncle Charlie."

# "Okay, then, as your Uncle Charlie, talk to me. What are your thoughts?"

# "I think it's an awful idea. I know you mean well, I do. But come on. You're killing me."

# "Julie," he said, putting his hands on my shoulders, "I know you've always had a flare for the dramatics, Pumpkin, but you've gotta put this one on the back burner. What's done is done. This is a great opportunity to keep the kids in our town proactive—"

# "Yeah," I said, dropping my arms in defeat and following Matt into the kitchen.

# "You give up too easily," Matt stirred a white sauce over the stove. "You know he has a soft spot for you. You could've worn him down if you'd just tried a little harder."

# "Yeah, and some help you were," I ignored his late advice. "How dare you just leave me in there to fight that battle alone? You know how I feel about this assignment."

# "Look at it this way," Matt tasted the sauce with a wooden spoon, "it's twenty hours of job experience. Whether you enjoy it or not, it doesn't really matter in the end. All you have to do is fudge a report and submit it. It's not like the school is gonna follow up on the students ten years from now and penalize them for not following all of their high school dreams."

# "That's beside the point, Mattie," I took a seat on a barstool at the center island. I leaned my elbows against the marble counter top and cradled my head in my hands. Not wanting to continue the conversation for another second, I turned to my cousin. "What's on the menu for the evening?"

# "Peppered shrimp Alfredo."

# I smacked my lips together.

# There were a few sure things in life that I could always count on: the memory of my parents' love to get me through the hard times, my Uncle Charlie's commitment to my happiness, and Matt's delicious home-cooked meals.

# "Care for a taste?" he asked, lifting the spoon.

# "I'll wait," I said, knowing that waiting would ultimately pay off. Once the meal was complete in its entirety, that's when I'd be ready to dig in; if there was one thing Matt knew how to do, it was make his way around a kitchen, much to his father's dismay, might I add.

# Matt had absolutely no intention of following in Charlie's footsteps and pursuing a career in criminal justice. His heart was in the kitchen, where it had always been, and where it would always be. And there was no doubt Matt would follow his heart, soul, and palate right to the doorsteps of the French Bistro for his twenty hours. Unlike me, he didn't have to worry about how he'd spend his time completing the assignment. He'd had his future mapped out years ago.

# Charlie stomped across the room and slumped onto the barstool next to mine. Silence surrounded us as we each looked off into separate directions, no one wanting to be the first to address the elephant in the room; the job-shadowing project was Charlie's brainchild, and he wasn't ready to dismiss it so easily.

# "Okay," my uncle finally mumbled, combing his fingers through his gray mustache, "I know you're reluctant about wasting your time, but I think I can help."

# When I didn't prompt him to continue, he took my silence as an indication to go on.

# "Put your hours in at the station," he said, almost sounding defeated. "There are a lot of great opportunities for smart, young women like yourself—"

# "Get off it, Dad," Matt slung a towel over his shoulder. "You can't keep trying to force us—"

# "No one is asking you to do anything, Matthew," his father said. "I know I've already lost my chance with you, but Julie...." He shook his head and ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. "Julie, Julie, Julie... have I ever told you about my first day on the force?"

# "Only a thousand times," Matt spoke again, playing more into his father's impatience.

# As the two men glared at one another, I took a moment to consider his proposition.

# Put in my twenty hours at the station? How hard could that be? I'd been around the job my whole life; I knew the ins and outs of the criminal justice system like the back of my hand. It'd be as easy as showing up, filing some paperwork, and having Charlie sign off on my hours. If I planned it out well, I could have this whole job-shadowing thing knocked out in no time at all.

# "I'm in," I patted him on the back. "I'd be happy to come down to the station and lend a helping hand."

# "Really?" Charlie's eyes lit up in a way I'd never seen. It was almost, and I mean almost, as though he was getting this commitment from his own son.

# "When do I start?"

# "Tomorrow. First thing in the morning," he beamed. "Don't worry about clearing it with the school; I'll take care of all of that. You just be up and ready to leave at five sharp."

# "Five?"

# "You're in for quite a day."

# Yeah, I didn't doubt that one bit. And thankfully for the first time in my life, I finally knew what the future held... even if it was only one day in advance.

# CHAPTER TWO

#

# "I always thought this was a stereotype," I took a pink sprinkled donut from the table in the break room.

# "How do you think stereotypes get started, Pumpkin?" Charlie draped his arm across my shoulder and pulled me close to his chest. He took a bite of a chocolate glazed donut, and crumbs fell down the front of his uniform. "Now let's get you ready for the day."

# I looked around the quiet break room and wondered if it was a glance into my future at the Oakland Police Department. The room was cozy, offering all the amenities a person might need for a quiet mid-day break, or in my case, a 5:30 a.m. breakfast. The halls were quiet, the phones weren't ringing, and the only sound in the building came from the faint dripping of water in the sink.

# "Are we the only ones here?" I asked Charlie, handing him a napkin to wipe the crumbs from his mustache.

# "Nah," he wiped his face, "the first shifters are uniformed and ready for briefing. They're just waiting for me."

# "Then don't you think we should... you know?" I nodded toward the door.

# Charlie plucked one final donut from the box and strolled out of the room. I followed quickly behind him, wondering at what point he'd stop long enough to give me my assignment.

# As we approached a lone wooden door at the end of the hall, Charlie stopped and turned.

# "I'm heading in for a bit," he said. "Stay put. I'll let you know when we're ready for you."

# "But what do you want me to do?"

# "Stay put," he said again. Without further elaboration, Charlie disappeared behind the door, leaving me in the dimly lit hallway.

# After waiting for what felt like hours, I wandered back into the break room and took a seat at the center table. I smoothed the wrinkles in my pink striped shirt, nudged my—purely fashionable—glasses a little further up my nose, and waited as patiently as possible for my uncle to return.

# There was something serene about early mornings at the Oakland PD. I nestled deeper into the folding chair, rested my head against the back of the metal, and closed my eyes.

# "Julie?" An unfamiliar voice called my name from the door. Before I had time to turn around, a strong hand landed on my shoulder, momentarily paralyzing my nerves. I balled my shaking hands into fists and finally mustered the nerve to turn and meet the man behind the voice.

# Dressed in his uniform and ready for the day, the young officer stood tall at the back of the chair, still resting his hand firmly on my shoulder. His black hair fell neatly above his brow, encouraging me to focus on the intensity of his dark eyes. His lip curved into a smirk.

# He was as calm and collected as a person could be, which was more than I could say for myself.

# "You are Julie?" he asked, finally retracting his hand. He leaned down to meet my gaze as if to check my pupils for a response. "Are you okay?"

# I shook my head, trying to calm my unsettled nerves.

# "Yeah," I nodded, nudging my glasses back into place. I finally stood and turned to assess him on a whole new level. "You just scared me."

# "Rule number one," he folded his arms at his chest. "Always be on high alert."

# "I was just resting—"

# "I didn't use the word always loosely, Miss Little."

# His smirk widened into a grin, bringing to light an inch-long scar on his upper lip. I studied the scar for a few long seconds, wondering what incident in his life had left the blemish behind.

# "It's not polite to stare," he walked past the table and toward the coffee brewing on the opposite counter. He plucked a labeled mug from a cabinet and turned back to me as he filled the cup to the rim.

# "I'm sorry," I said, standing straighter. "I suppose my uncle told you I was here?"

# "Yes, ma'am," he said, "in fact, he sent me on a mission to find you when you turned up missing."

# "I wasn't missing."

# "He told you to stay put, didn't he?"

# "Yes."

# "And you moved, didn't you?"

# "I did, but—"

# "Rule number two," he took a drink. He closed his eyes and savored the drink, but only for a moment. Watching me again, he nodded once. "Do as you're told. When you're given orders, follow them, especially if the order is given by the Chief. In this building and on this job, Charlie Little is not your uncle; he is your superior."

# I stood and stared in amazement, wondering if his rules were to be taken seriously or if this was just his idea of a joke that I failed to find the humor in.

# "Any questions so far?" he asked, never letting his eyes wander from mine. "It's imperative that you understand what's expected of you."

# "This is all a joke, right?" I looked around the break room. How could all of his rules possibly apply to the work I'd be doing at the station? Being alert, following orders... how hard could it possibly be to push papers around a desk all day?

# "A joke?" He leaned against the counter and stared at me in disbelief. His brow furrowed as he shook his head and mumbled what sounded an awful lot like, "I can't believe I let him talk me into this."

# "I'm sorry?" I asked, taking a step closer. "Do you have a problem with me, Officer?"

# "Not so much a problem with you, as a concern about you," he said shamelessly. "You're a major liability issue, Little." He looked from my pink shirt to matching sneakers and shook his head. A faint chuckle came from behind his mug as he took another drink. "If you're not going to take this position seriously, you need to call it quits while you're still ahead."

# I leaned closer to get a better look at his name tag.

# L. Reibeck.

# "Well, with all due respect, Officer Reibeck," I threw my shoulders back, "I haven't even been given an assignment yet. So for you to say that I'm not taking my position seriously is just as bogus as the idea of me having to put in these hours to begin with. As soon as Charlie finds the time, he'll assign me to my desk job, and you can let go of your fear of me being a liability."

# "You haven't been given your orders yet?" His smile grew wider than before. "Oh, this should be fun."

# Just as the word fun slipped off his lips, Charlie stepped into the room and clapped his hands together.

# "Julie," he said with the force of authority, "you're on patrol with Trigger for the morning. You'll ride along, get a feel for the position, and report back to me at lunch. I want you two to work out a schedule for the first half of your hours. Trigger," he turned to Officer Reibeck. "She's the closest thing I have to a daughter. Keep her safe out there."

# "Will do, sir."

# "Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, "you're sending me out there? With him? I thought I was putting my hours in at the station?"

# "How are you ever going to learn what it means to be a police officer without field experience, Pumpkin?" Charlie winked as though that would be enough to calm my unsettled nerves.

# "Charlie," I suddenly thought of my father. After everything I'd been through, and everything I'd lost, it was all too much. I wasn't ready; it was far too soon. "I really don't want to—"

# "Get back on the horse," he said gently, and it was all he had to say. Charlie's decision was final, and I wasn't sure whether I really had any other option but to obey him.

# I looked at Officer Reibeck, who raised his brow as if amused by my misunderstanding.

# "Put in four hours this morning," Charlie said, his tone back to normal. "Then you're free for the day. How's that sound?"

# I looked between the two men, knowing I had no choice but to comply. I sighed, shrugged, and mumbled, "Okay."

# Charlie kissed the top of my head and left the break room, yelling "That's my girl," as he reached the end of the hallway.

# I stared at the empty doorway for a few long seconds before turning back to Officer Reibeck.

# "So," I pursed my lips. "What now?"

# "We head out," he said. "You ready?"

# "Do I have a choice?"

# "No."

# "Then I suppose I'm ready," I turned to leave the room.

# As Officer Reibeck and I walked down the hall and toward the exit on the far end of the building, an older Latino detective looked up from his desk, eyeing me, and then nodding at his peer as if to hold back a laugh. "Good luck out there, Trigger."

# "Bite me, Bruno," he responded, holding the door open for me to exit. As the door shut, I heard a bout of laughter from inside the station.

# "This is all just one big joke to you, isn't it?" I asked.

# "Look," he approached the nearby patrol car, "Chief makes the calls; we do as we're told. But yes. This is an all-time low, Little. None of us joined the force to chauffeur the Chief's kid niece around town." He opened the back door of the patrol car and nodded. "Get in."

# The backseat?

# I looked at him and then back to the car. "You're kidding, right?"

# "You thought you were riding up front?" he asked, still holding the door open. "No, ma'am. Front seat has to be earned. Judging by your reluctance to follow a simple rule this morning, there's no telling what you're capable of in the real world. So, if you're going, get in. If not, it's all the same to me."

# "You have got to be kidding me."

# "Does this look like the face of a man who's joking?"

# I stared at him for another beat and realized he was as close to joking as I was to liking him.

# Nope. It didn't look like the face of a man who was joking. It looked like the face of man who was going to have another scar on his lip by the end of the day, especially if he kept treating me like a child.

# CHAPTER THREE

#

# I settled myself into the backseat. Never—not once in my life—had I ever imagined ending up in the back of a police cruiser (no matter what the circumstances). I fumbled through my shoulder bag and found a notebook and pen, dug them out, and took ten minutes to write out a list of suitable questions to ask Officer Reibeck.

# After ten long minutes passed in silence, I decided that there was no better time to get the information that I'd need for my report.

# "Officer Reibeck," I said formally, humoring him, though it sickened me to be so polite. It wouldn't have bothered me so much had he extended some kind of courtesy back at the station. But if he wanted to be less than pleasant, I was all in.

# I slid forward on the seat and leaned my face closer to the gate separating the front and back seats. "What's your full name?"

# "Luke," he said, not taking his eyes off the road for a second. "Lucas James Reibeck."

# I scribbled his name at the top of the page. "How long have you been working for the Oakland PD?"

# "Two years," he turned onto Main Street. "I finished junior college right out of high school, went through nine months at the academy, and joined the force at twenty-one."

# "Did you always know you wanted to be a policeman?" I asked, still scrambling to get his previous answer on paper.

# "Never doubted it for a second," he said. "It's in my blood."

# "Your father worked in law enforcement?"

# "My mother," he said. "My father owns a floral shop in the Historic District."

# I watched a smirk curve on his lips; I wondered if he found as much humor in his parents' chosen occupations as I did.

# "How long has your mother been active on the force?"

# He didn't respond. He simply ignored the question and made another slow turn on to Wiley Street.

# "Okay," I slowly looked over my notes. "How do you prefer to be addressed? Lucas? Luke? Trigger?"

# A faint laugh came from the driver's seat. "You picked up on that, then?"

# "Charlie's always been one for nicknames," I said, "but when Detective Bruno—"

# "It's just something that stuck after an accident at the firing range last year."

# "What kind of accident?" I slid closer to the gate.

# "Target practice," he brought the car to a stop at an intersection. "All the guys were out at the range. I wasn't focused, I got distracted, and my finger slipped on the trigger."

# "Did anyone get hurt?"

# "One guy," he said, but his expression didn't show the least bit of remorse, "but it was a minor injury. Just a toe."

# "Just a toe?"

# "He only lost a toe."

# I tried to restrain a laugh, but it was next to impossible. "Someone lost a toe?"

# "Yes."

# "You act like that's not a big deal."

# "Sure, it's a big deal," he said, "but it could've been worse."

# I shook my head and looked out the window. I knew better than to say anything else on the subject, but something inside of me felt inclined to take control of the conversation. "I'm surprised you're admitting to that kind of mistake, especially since you were the one preaching at me this morning about all the rules that come with working on the force." I crossed my arms in front of my chest to imitate him. "Always be on high alert. And I don't use the word always loosely, Miss Little."

# "And how do you think I learned that lesson?" he glanced into the rearview mirror and looked at me for the first time since we'd gotten in the car. "There are some things you don't learn at the academy, kid. Experience is a valuable asset in this position."

# He held my stare for a few long seconds. I wanted to look away, God, I wanted to. But I simply couldn't bring myself to ruin the moment. For whatever reason, he seemed to be dealing with the same struggle.

# Why was he letting his gaze linger?

# "Next question," I said, trying to ignore the sudden pounding against my chest. I had an obligation to keep my mind fresh and focused on the job at hand. The last thing I needed was a distraction, and Luke's good looks alone were enough to keep me stalling. I didn't need his lingering stare—that only complicated things. "What was the worst call you ever had to respond to?"

# As the light turned green, he accelerated through the intersection and continued down the street, wearing a contagious smile. "The worst call I've ever had to respond to... I'd say it was the morning Chief called on me to cart his niece around town, only to be hounded with a half-dozen predictable questions."

# I glared at him through the mirror, hoping he'd look back and see that I wasn't impressed. But he never did.

# The hours went by slowly, much to my dismay. Four hours in the car with Luke...ha! Four hours too many. Though I questioned him for hours on end, he'd barely given me any insight into his life as an officer, and the ride-along turned out to be more uneventful than I could've ever imagined. When we reached the station in the early afternoon, Luke got out of the car and headed for the building, leaving me in the back seat—unable to let myself out.

# "Hey!" I yelled, pounding on the window. I felt my face grow hotter. If he'd gained any kind of brownie points with me during the ride-along today, he'd just lost them in the amount of time it had taken him to lock me in the backseat and walk away. "Hello! I'm still in here!"

# He turned back and stared for a minute, looking as though he'd completely forgotten I'd been in the car with him all along. He stood there and watched me for a minute, and all the while I seriously considered the fact that he might not come back for me at all. Honestly, I wouldn't have been surprised if that was the case. But he reluctantly returned, opened the door, and leaned over the doorway to block my exit.

# "Julie," he said, cool and calm, and almost in a whisper, "it's a job to take seriously, yes. But you'll never make it far in this field without a sense of humor, kid. I promise you that."

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# "I can't believe you're already halfway through your hours," I stared at my cousin in disbelief.

# Matt turned and smiled, "What can I say?"

# "You can say, Gee Julie, once I'm done with my hours at the bistro, I'd love to come down to the station and help you out."

# "Speaking of," he took a seat next to me at the kitchen island, "how'd your day with Dad pan out?"

# "It would've been great had it actually been a day with your dad, but he dumped me off on an officer and sent me out on patrol all morning."

# "That's not so bad," Matt said. "You've been on patrol hundreds of times." I rolled my eyes and looked away. "Did you see anything good?"

# Other than that one little glimpse of Luke's dark eyes shining through the rearview mirror, nope. Nothing.

# "Not really."

# "Who'd he send you out with?"

# "Luke Reibeck."

# Matt choked back a laugh and looked at me inquisitively. "You're serious? He sent you out with Trigger?"

# "You know him?"

# He finally let out the laugh he'd worked hard to restrain. "I don't know who Dad is punishing more, you or him."

# "Ugh, what's that supposed to mean?" I pulled a fresh apple from the fruit basket on the counter. Surely he didn't think that time spent with me would be punishment for anyone. Time spent with Luke, however, was a different story.

# "Trigger's a good guy, don't get me wrong," he said, "but he takes his job way too seriously, and you don't respect what he does enough to earn you any of his admiration. The two of you are a deadly combination, Julie. And to be completely honest, I'd never want to be the poor sucker stuck in a patrol car alone with the two of you."

# Matt jumped down from his stool and moved over to the oven to check on the progress of our dinner.

# "But then," Matt said, turning back, "maybe Dad knows what he's doing. Maybe you and Luke will be good for each other."

# "Meaning?"

# "I'm just saying," he treaded softly, "ever since Liz and Stephen—"

# "Careful," I warned him, not in any kind of mood to discuss my parents.

# "All I'm saying is that you haven't been yourself since the funeral, Julie. And as much as I know you hate hearing it, we've all been waiting on the old you to make a big return. You keep distancing yourself a little more every day. It's not healthy."

# Matt reclaimed his seat and put his arm around my shoulder. It wasn't like him to talk about any kind of uncomfortable situation, and it surprised me that he was reaching out now, especially given the circumstances. I'd lost my parents, yes. But they were his family too. He'd lost something the night they died, just in a different way.

# And while, yes, it hurt to hear my own cousin tell me how far I'd faded, even I had started recognizing some of the changes lately. Somehow I'd gone from being a fun-loving, carefree girl to a teenager who had no choice but to grow up far too fast.

# "So," Matt redirected the conversation back to our original topic, "what do you think? You think you guys will be able to make it work for another sixteen hours?"

# I thought back on the first time I'd seen Luke standing behind me with no regret that he'd scared me out of my mind. Then there were all his rules, guidelines, and snarky comments. And, of course, the way he'd rudely locked me in the backseat of the patrol car.

# I didn't care for the way he acted. Nor did I care for the way he carried himself.

# But then I was reminded of that moment—that one, single, solitary moment when he watched me from the rearview mirror, and it made me wonder, had me wondering for hours still, if maybe there was more to Officer Lucas Reibeck than meets the eye.

# 

# CHAPTER FOUR

#

# Yesterday played out like any normal day in our household. Charlie would come and go, putting in enough hours at the station to cover more than two shifts within a twenty-four hour period. Matt was up at the crack of dawn, making breakfast and checking in and out of the kitchen every hour to keep up with lunch and dinner prep.

# I, however, put most of my day into planning my next approach in interviewing Luke. He hadn't seemed eager on Saturday to answer my question about his mother and her time on the force, and even his other answers were pretty tight-lipped. He obviously didn't want to open up to me, which was fine. All I needed was enough information to prove that I'd actually spent some time putting forth effort. After all, that's all this project was really about, proving that we could put a little thought into a post-graduation career.

# Who needed to know that I had absolutely no interest in the criminal justice system, or the gun-wielding men who served our community? Okay. Yes. I had a little interest in one man in particular, but that was only because he was the guy who'd be signing off on my hours after all was said and done.

# Or at least that's what I kept telling myself.

# "You ready for your next two hours of patrol, Little?" Luke asked as I approached the car outside the high school. Dressed in full uniform and leaning against the hood, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked on.

# As instructed by Charlie, we'd planned out my first ten hours of shadowing. My first four were already behind me, and next on the agenda were two more. Wednesday would follow with another two hours, and then back to the early morning shift on Saturday for another two, finally finishing up the first half of my job shadowing. While it seemed a bit scattered, it was the only way to fit the hours into both of our schedules.

# "I thought I was meeting you at the station?" I eyed the patrol car. "Or did you feel like you needed to make a big scene and show up at my school, so all of my classmates could watch you force me into the backseat?"

# "Hey, I just thought I'd be a nice guy and save you a walk. But if you want to make the five block trip on foot, be my guest. I'll drive over there now and wait for you."

# "Why do you have to be like that?"

# "Be like what?"

# I glared at him, both of us knowing he didn't need to answer. He knew quite well how he was acting, and part of me had to wonder if he was doing it just to get on my nerves.

# He nudged himself off the front of the car and went around to the side, opening the front passenger door and nodding. "Go on, get in."

# "In the front?"

# "Unless you want me to make a scene?" We watched each other again for a few drawn seconds. "Are you coming or not?"

# "Yes, sir, Trigger, sir," I saluted him like a good little soldier.

# He bit his lip and fought a smile, but he turned his head to hide his amusement.

# I climbed in the car and took it upon myself to close the door, not waiting for him to make sure I was securely in place. The last thing I needed was for him to think I needed his help with the simplest of tasks.

# Once in the driver's seat and cruising down the road, Luke was the first to break the five-minute silence.

# "I was fifteen when my mom died," he looked straight on at the traffic. "She'd spent years on the force, fighting against the roughest, toughest, and meanest." He took a moment to collect a breath, so I seized the opportunity and dug through my bag to find my collection of notes. I wrote as he continued. "Most cops in this town go their entire career never having to shoot their gun. Mom was never one of the lucky ones. She always seemed to find herself in the worst situations, but she always managed to fight her way out. She'd be caught in fights, brawls, and accidents left and right, and somehow she managed to walk away free without a scratch every time."

# "Brave woman," I said, still waiting on him to make eye contact, but to no avail.

# "She was," he said, almost proudly. "So, when the doctors told her that the lump in her chest wasn't benign as we'd all hoped, none of us doubted her strength to pull through. We'd watched her go through so much, what was a little cancer?"

# I felt the uneasiness in my chest grow heavier as he continued the drive.

# "It wasn't six months after the diagnosis... she was gone. And while I'd always hoped to follow in her footsteps, it only reinforced my decision to go into law enforcement. I had to carry on the legacy she started."

# I took my eyes off of him and took a moment to make a few notes, but nothing relating to his story; it was just a little reminder of how short life is, and how maybe I'd been selfish to think that I was the only one who'd lost someone special.

# "And that's why you joined the force?"

# "That's why I joined the force." We stopped at an intersection, and the only sound filling the air was the ticking of the turn signal as we waited for the light change. Before I could appreciate what it meant for him to share such a personal story, he broke the silence again. "So you can understand why I think this assignment is a bit of a joke."

# And in one fell swoop, he lost every ounce of sympathy he'd just gained.

# "Luke—"

# "Mom would've laughed in Chief's face if he'd given her this assignment."

# I shook my head and shoved my notebook back into my bag. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

# "Me?" he asked. "You're the one who's been given a once in a lifetime opportunity to learn valuable life lessons, and you're treating it as lightly as you would a day on the beach. I would've killed for this experience as a teenager, but my mother wouldn't hear of it. Some kids don't get as lucky as you, Julie. And it drives me crazy to see privileged brats like you getting everything handed to them, and then for you to just squander it."

# His eyes darted to me and then back to the road, making my face flush red with heat. I'd never in my life met someone so infuriating. Who did he think he was, talking to me like that?

# "You think I'm lucky?" I asked, knowing there was no way Luke could've known my story. Had he known, he wouldn't have said those things so freely. "Ha! If I've had good luck in life, I'd hate to see the kids who haven't had it all handed to them." I looked at him long enough to see him lower his brow, but he continued the drive and never let on for a moment that my words had fazed him.

# "Well," I finally said after we'd ridden in silence for another five minutes, "I suppose I should thank you for painting such a colorful picture. It'll add a nice little human interest to my report, right before the paragraph where I discuss that—while I've always had a slight distaste for men in uniform—it was Officer Lucas Reibeck who put the final nail in the coffin. No more police work for me, no sir."

# He didn't respond. He kept his eyes straight forward, acting as though I was nothing more than a fly on the wall. My presence meant nothing to him, and that only irritated me more.

# "You're all the same, you know that?" I hoped to strike a nerve. "Every one of you—you egotistical, self-indulgent cops! You say you do this to serve and protect, but the only thing you're protecting is your ego—"

# "Julie!" he yelled, silencing me in a heartbeat. "Stop talking."

# Ten minutes ticked by at snail speed, increasing the tension and thickening the air with pent-up anger from both of us. He drove to the edge of town and pulled off into a dirt siding.

# "Get out," he said, still looking away from me.

# "What?"

# "Get—out—of—the—car," he leaned across my lap and opened the door. "Now."

# I watched the anger burn in his eyes for a few fiery moments, took my bag from the floor, and did as I was told.

# I stepped off into the dirt and shut the door, waiting for the tires to spin, and for Luke to disappear around the bend. But he didn't leave. As soon as my door clicked shut, his opened, and he stepped out of the car. He adjusted his belt and met me on the roadside.

# "Follow me."

# He turned and walked off into the thick woods. I stood firmly in place and watched him leave. After a few seconds of standing alone, he turned back and looked at me blankly. "Are you coming or not?"

# I looked at the car and back to him. "Are you going to shoot me?"

# Though he fought to restrain a smirk, his amusement came through clear as day.

# "What makes you think I'd want to shoot you?" he asked, coming back to meet me on the edge of the road.

# "Your blatant hatred for me," I said, as though the answer should've been obvious. "That... and you do have a history of shooting unsuspecting victims."

# "Alright, stop," he lost the edge in his voice. "Just follow me."

# CHAPTER FIVE

#

# The touch of his hand against mine burned deep within my skin, eliciting a strong reminder of just how quickly I was letting this guy get to me. One second, I hated him. The next, I was wondering what it would be like to run my fingers through his windblown hair. There was just something about him.

# I tried to accept that his hand only held mine for guidance purposes; he'd made that perfectly clear back at the car, as we walked along the tree-lined path. The brush grew thicker and thicker, and Luke insisted that I stay close. Even still, I closed my eyes and let him lead the way, pretending, if only for a few moments, that he was the sense of comfort and security I'd been praying for since I'd lost my parents.

# The walk didn't last long, maybe five minutes at most. As we stepped off the trail, I opened my eyes and took in the beautiful view. The last of the trees lined an open field of wildflowers that stretched across acres of rolling hills.

# With his hand still pressed firmly against mine, we finally stopped walking when we reached the top of the first hill.

# "Have a seat," he let go of my hand.

# I did as I was told and plopped down on the grass.

# As I looked up at him from where I sat, I realized how easily I'd dismissed the true nature of his physical beauty. Handsome didn't quite cut it.

# He was simply... perfect.

# He sat down next to me and plucked a tall blade of grass from the ground.

# "How do you feel right now?" he shot me a look from the corner of his eye. "Angry?"

# I shook my head. It was hard to be angry, and at that point, I could barely remember why I'd been so upset back at the car. I looked out at the field and tried to remember what had started our argument, but nothing came to mind. It was almost as if all the negativity had been replaced by this overwhelming sense of goodness. I just had no idea where it had come from.

# "Here's a valuable lesson for your book, Julie," he took it upon himself to reach into my bag and retrieve my notebook. "Angry cops make bad cops." When I continued to stare into his deep, brown eyes, he lifted the pen and clicked it. "Write it down."

# I obeyed his order and scribbled the words angry cops make bad cops.

# "Anger is a nasty thing, kid. I don't care if you're an officer or a civilian. There are better ways to handle emotions. I've seen too many good cops lose their heads, and that's the first sign of a downward spiral."

# "Does it happen to you?" I asked. "Do you ever find yourself in situations that initiate an angry response?"

# He smirked as he watched the blade of grass weave through each of his fingers.

# "Not so much," he said, "I have a decent outlet."

# "Which is?" I asked, ready to write.

# "Coming here, sitting down, and taking a breath. Sometimes it's as easy as realizing that I can't control everything, or everyone." His eyes wandered across the hills and then back to me. "I'm sorry about...back at the car."

# I nodded. "Thank you, but I'm the one who should apologize." I took a deep breath and looked down at the patch of wildflowers smashed beneath my sneakers. "You were right; I am ungrateful. I didn't want to shadow you. I wanted an easy ride. I thought Charlie would pamper me." I laughed and shook my head, knowing very well that I shouldn't have expected any less from my uncle. "I guess he had other plans."

# While it made me feel a bit shallow to admit the truth, I also sensed a wave of relief. It felt good to be so open and honest for a change. I couldn't remember the last time I'd talked so openly about my feelings to anyone, especially a person I barely knew. It was therapeutic, to say the least.

# "I really had no idea he was sending me out with you, or I—"

# "What? You would've chosen to be miserable shadowing someone else?" Luke asked, watching me closely. "Listen, you may not believe this now, and this isn't my arrogance talking, but I was the best guy for the job, Julie. The other guys thought your uncle was crazier than I did. Most of them, if not all of them, wouldn't have given you the time of day."

# "So...what?" I asked him, a little heartbroken that so many people found my presence a burden. "He asked everyone at the station until you finally caved?"

# "No," he said, shortly, "I was the only person he asked."

# "Yeah, I know you think I'm a joke, but thanks for trying, at least."

# I found it was only necessary to give credit where it was due. Maybe Luke had thought I was a liability, but at least he'd given me a chance. Not everyone would've done that for me, or for Charlie.

# He dropped his head and stared at the ground for a few seconds, seemingly contemplating his next words.

# "I hope you realize I never said you were a joke, Julie. I was referring to this whole arrangement when I said that."

# "All the same."

# "No, it's not," he balled his hands into fists. His knuckles turned white as he held his grip tighter. "Why are you so damn stubborn? Why do you insist on being the victim?"

# "I'm not trying to be the victim," I said, but I wasn't the least bit convinced that he believed me. "I'm just used to being the victim, and maybe that's why I'm always ready when the attacks start flying. I mean, you've been doing it since the moment we met. You've been attacking me left and right, whether it was with your snide remarks or your better-than-thou attitude."

# Luke cast a momentary glance at me and then brought himself to his feet. "We should go."

# "We just got here."

# "But we're on duty," he said as if it had just occurred to him. "The car's been unattended for too long. We need to get back." He extended a hand and helped me off the ground and back through the trees to the car; neither of us exchanged another word or glance.

# Back at the station, I let myself out of the car and walked toward the building in silence. I seriously considered what I could've done or said differently to keep the tone from changing. Back there... back at the field, it seemed as though we were finally breaking through some kind of barrier. Call me crazy, but I thought we'd established an open line of communication. I thought we were making some kind of progress in our... friendship?

# Just outside the station door, Luke took my elbow and pulled me back.

# "Julie," he lowered his face inches from mine, "let's quit pretending that you have any kind of interest in my job, and I'll agree to get off your case. Deal?"

# There was uneasiness in his eyes that left my nerves a little unsettled.

# "Am I that transparent?"

# He smirked. "You're not fooling anyone, kid. You couldn't care less about what I do."

# "That's not true," I argued, noticing that his hand was still cupped around my elbow. I pulled away and stared at him intently. "I've asked questions. I've taken notes. I've made a point to get to know you."

# "Exactly," he said as if I'd just proven his point. "You've taken the time to get to know me. Not the job."

# "And that's a problem?"

# "It's not me you're doing a report on, Julie. It's the force—"

# "But you're my mentor."

# "Let's be honest here. You weren't asking those questions for any other reason than to appease your curiosity about me, and I wasn't answering the way you wanted me to because you and I both know that this," he pointed between the two of us, "This could never happen."

# Wait, what?

# "What could never happen?" I wondered what in the world he was talking about. I mean, sure I thought he was cute and all, but had I missed something? "Luke," I lost my patience. "What could never happen?"

# He shined his trademark smile and opened the door to the station, only turning back long enough to take me by the arm and gently pull me closer.

# "It's just a little crush," he whispered. "You don't have to pretend you hate me. I notice you. I see you, kid." He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his chest, playfully teasing my hair. "It'll pass. All in good time."

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# "Congratulations!" I hugged Matt as we sat next to one another outside the French Bistro. "I bet you're on cloud nine."

# "Something like that, yeah," he took a gulp of water and leaned back in his chair. He pushed his fingers through his hair and let go of a sigh. "I don't know how Dad'll take it, but he'll adjust to it in time."

# Sure he'll adjust... when pigs fly.

# Matt had just informed me over dinner that he'd accepted a part-time, after-school position in the same restaurant where he'd served his twenty job-shadowing hours, served and completed in less than a week, might I add. And now there he was, one step closer to the rest of his life, while I sat back trying to make sense of my feelings toward a guy that I'd literally only spent six hours with.

# "What's going on?" Matt gave me his full attention.

# I gave him a half-hearted smile and shrugged. "I think I have a problem."

# "Wouldn't have anything to do with your crush on Trigger, would it?"

# I studied him for a moment and contemplated an argument, but Matt knew me better than most, and sometimes better than I knew myself. There would be no point putting up a façade.

# "What makes you think I have a crush on Luke?" I approached the situation as neutrally as possible to feel him out for answers. Maybe he'd have some insight into what was going on inside my head, and most importantly, my heart.

# "For one, you're not denying it. And I know you well enough to know that you won't waste your time in a fight you know you can't win."

# True.

# "And I watched you leave the school lot together yesterday. Just the look in your eyes said it all."

# I scoffed, "Funny, because we argued before, during, and after that ride. Any 'look' you saw was a complete misinterpretation."

# "What about your notebook?" he tried a different approach. "Have you taken the time to read over any of your notes?"

# "No," I answered honestly, "I've only bothered with my notes during the hours I'm with Luke. I haven't had time to start compiling an essay. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"

# Matt smirked and took another drink, acting as though he knew more than he cared to let on.

# "You left your bag on the counter last night when you came in," he said. "I wanted to see what kind of progress you'd made, and I noticed that your notes were a little... doodled on."

# "Doodled on? I don't doodle."

# "No joke," he said. "You're almost too neat when it comes to that kinda crap. But I could barely read anything through the chicken scratch and hearts."

# "Hearts?"

# "Hearts. All over the page. Not to mention the huge one around his name."

# "You're lying," I said, cupping my mouth. Had I really doodled hearts all over my notes? I sunk my face into my hands and groaned. "What is going on with me?"

# "So you like him," he said, not seeming the least bit surprised. "Big deal."

# I peeked through my fingers.

# "I don't know," I said, almost sheepishly. I leaned forward in my chair and watched my cousin closely for a reaction. "It's crazy, Matt. There's just something about him that makes my heart beat way too fast. My nerves go into overdrive when I'm with him, but I don't know if it's because I like him or because I hate him. Because there are these times, more often than not, actually, when he makes me so angry. I mean, I have literally wanted to smack him a thousand times. But then there's this tiny part of me, and I mean, really tiny part of me, Mattie, that only wants to smack him just so I feel his skin under my palm. And I'm just so confused. I've never met anyone so incredible, yet so infuriating—"

# "Julie, that's enough," Matt interrupted, looking past me. "Not necessary, I get it."

# "And there's this look, this deep, genuine look, that he gets in his eyes when he's being sincere that just makes my knees buckle—"

# "Okay, Julie."

# "And his hair," I said, stroking my own, "oh my God, his hair. What I wouldn't give to just run my fingers through every last strand—"

# "Julie!"

# "But that's what trips me up, Mattie. He's the most beautiful man on the face of the Earth, but I can't figure him out. He's hot, and then he's cold. There's no way to make sense of it. He's just... just so... just...."

# "What? Just so what?"

# But this time it wasn't Matt's voice interrupting me. It was Luke's.

# Luke pulled up a chair from the neighboring table and sat down next to us as if invited. I was seeing him for the first time outside of work, and uniform, and I couldn't even begin to take the time to appreciate how well casual attire suited him.

# I stared at him in utter speechlessness, not knowing what to say next, but knowing nothing I could say would take back what he'd already heard.

# "No, no," he said, when my face flushed red, "please don't stop on my account. I'm dying to hear the rest. What am I?"

# "I'm going to kill you," I turned back to Matt. Without a moment's hesitation, I stood up, pulled my purse off the back of the chair, and marched down the sidewalk for home.

# "Julie," Matt called after me, "Julie, come on!" When I didn't give into his plea, he called out louder. "I tried to stop you!"

# I turned back to watch as my cousin chased after me, and I caught Luke from the corner of my eye. He slid down in his seat and arched his brow as if his amusement, at the expense of my humiliation, had finally peaked.

# What—a—jerk.

# 

# CHAPTER SIX

#

# The doorbell rang at six sharp, and neither Matt nor I was eager to answer it. He'd just pulled a fontina, potatoes, and tapenade pizza from the oven as I set the two place settings on the formal dining room table. Charlie was still at the station, and I'd faked illness to get out of my two hours of shadowing.

# Since my rant at the bistro yesterday, I couldn't possibly imagine facing Luke any time soon, especially alone, and especially in such close quarters.

# When the bell sounded again, Matt flashed a glance at me that told me I'd either get the door, or no one would. There was no messing with him once he hit culinary mode.

# I left the kitchen and stomped through the foyer, in no mood to entertain. I opened the door to find Luke on the front step, still wearing his uniform and a grin, and holding a plastic container in hand.

# "Heard you were feeling under the weather," he said. "Brought you some soup."

# I drew my eyebrows together. "What's your angle?"

# "Angle?"

# "Why are you here?" I watched him closely. "What do you want?"

# He lifted the container a little higher. "To make you feel better."

# The childish tease in his voice was downright adorable, but I had to remind myself that that was exactly how Luke operated. He used his endearing charm to his benefit, and I wasn't about to let him suck me in. Not this time. He'd only come to tease me about what he'd overheard at the bistro.

# "Thanks, but no thanks," I started to shut the door. "Matt and I were just about to sit down."

# "Yo, Trigger!" Matt called behind me, nudging me aside to greet Luke. "Just pulled a pizza from the oven if you're hungry. Come on in."

# I glared at Matt and then back to Luke, silently threatening him against accepting my cousin's offer.

# "No, I probably shouldn't," Luke said, eyeing me carefully. "I just dropped by to bring Julie some comfort food, but thanks."

# "I won't take no for an answer," Matt said. "Dad won't be home for hours, and there's plenty of food to go around."

# Luke looked from Matt to me, and then back to Matt. "Well, if you insist."

# I stared at them in complete shock, but neither of them had seemed to notice that my jaw was practically resting on the floor.

# Matt opened the door to let his guest inside, and I turned on my heel and stomped back into the kitchen. As the two men approached the table, I had already taken the pizza cutter to Matt's masterpiece, retrieved a slice of my own, and headed for the back staircase.

# "Where are you going?" Matt asked as I stormed away. "Why'd you set the table if you weren't planning to eat down here?"

# I turned and flashed him an I'll deal with you later glare and stomped up the kitchen staircase.

# I reached my bedroom and shut the door behind me, hoping that the extra barrier would help me think a little clearer.

# I needed to figure out my feelings.

# I needed to understand why I clung to the possibility of gaining something more with someone who infuriated me to no end.

# I sat on the corner of my bed and looked out the window of my second-story bedroom. My view wasn't the best; it looked directly onto the vacant house next door. And it was in moments like this that I wished my window looked out on the driveway. At least I would've known when Luke had finally left. I didn't want to be holed up in my room for the rest of the night.

# After ten minutes of arguing with myself, one of the few things I do successfully, I decided that it was only cowardly for me to let Luke scare me out of my own kitchen. I wasn't about to let him come into my territory, intimidate me, and then get some weird sense of satisfaction from it.

# I made my way down the back staircase and stopped halfway when I heard Luke ask Matt, "How did Julie end up here, anyway? None of us down at the station even knew you guys had taken someone in."

# "Julie's not just anyone, though," Matt said. "She's family."

# I smiled, knowing Matt and Charlie were always looking out for my best interest. As much as I tried to convince myself that I was imposing on their lives, I knew that my presence was more than welcomed.

# "She moved in last Christmas right after Aunt Liz and Uncle Stephen died."

# "Her parents?" Luke asked.

# "Yeah," Matt said, dropping into a semi-whisper. "It just hit so close to home for Dad, I think. He prefers to carry on as though it didn't even happen. He welcomed Julie with open arms of course, but he's still struggling, just as much as she is, with wrapping his mind around it."

# "Around what, exactly?"

# "Stephen was Dad's younger brother and a cop over in West Bridge. It's a quiet town: low-key, very few arrests, and mostly just a few speeding tickets here and there. But one night just before Julie and I were born, Uncle Stephen made the arrest of a lifetime. His unit had been tracking a drug ring in their neighborhood, and when it came time to make a move, the force took down the entire operation. In the end, Uncle Stephen was the arresting officer in the case against the drug lord. And when they locked him up, he promised he'd come back for Stephen."

# I sat down on the steps and held my hand over my mouth, trying to restrain a sob as the memories came flooding back. I struggled not to relive the past year all over again, but it wasn't easy hearing Matt talk about my parents so openly.

# "A few months went by, Julie was born, and the next seventeen years passed without thought of the arrest. As far as everyone was concerned, the case was behind them for good. But then it got brought up for appeal; as far as I can figure, there were dirty cops on the inside helping bring the guy's case to court. He was released on probation, and true to his word, went straight for Stephen and Liz."

# "And killed them?"

# "Shot 'em both, point blank."

# "But he spared Julie?"

# "She was away visiting a friend in Charleston. I'm not sure the guy even knew she existed."

# There was a moment of silence in the room below.

# "I know she's not the easiest person to get along with," Matt continued, keeping his voice low. "She used to be, but time has changed a lot for Julie. She's just getting by now the only way she knows how. A lot of the act she puts forward is just that, an act. She hides behind her pain because she hasn't figured out how to grieve. She hasn't found an outlet. She struggles with admitting the truth."

# I buried my head further into my hands, feeling the weight of the world as it tugged at my heart. Dealing with the pain was hard enough, but to hear someone else use my pain to define my character was hard to swallow. Had I really allowed myself to become so shut off that even my best friend didn't recognize the person I'd always thought I was?

# "Listen," Luke matched Matt's somber tone, "please tell her to get some rest and not to call before she's well enough to come back to the station. I don't want her compromising her health to complete this project."

# Matt snickered, despite the gloom lingering in the air. "You know she's only pretending she's sick so she can avoid you, right?"

# I heard a chair scoot out from under the table and assumed Luke was preparing himself to leave.

# "Regardless," he said, "I don't want her coming back until she's comfortable."

# "I'll relay the message."

# The sound of the two men exchanging a manly hug came faintly from the distance.

# "Take care of her," Luke said.

# The sound of footsteps grew closer to the bottom of the stairs, so I pulled myself up and bolted to the second floor as quickly as possible, hiding behind the first wall.

# "Good night, Julie," Luke called up. "Hope to hear from you soon."

# As the sound of his steps echoed through the house followed by Matt's, I slid down the wall and buried my face in my arms once again.

# "Good night," I whispered back, wishing I'd spoken up while he was still at arm's length.

# Because something in my heart told me that he would've stayed. He would've comforted me. He would've made the pain go away.

# 

# CHAPTER SEVEN

#

# I hadn't seen or spoken to Luke since he came to the house on Wednesday night, but a lot had fallen into perspective since.

# I'd thought a lot about what Matt had said, both about the person I used to be, and the person I'd become. Not liking that he of all people thought that I could be so difficult to deal with, I decided that it was time to put forth a better effort; it was time to turn over a new leaf.

# I knew it was impossible to experience a full transformation overnight, and a complete change wasn't what I was after. All I wanted was to show Matt and Luke that I wasn't the short-tempered, pessimistic, drama queen they'd spent so much time with lately.

# "Good morning," Detective Bruno said from his desk as I walked in.

# Once inside the station, I shut my umbrella, shook it off, and propped it against the wall as I scanned the room.

# "Good morning, Detective," I walked past him, "anything good to report?"

# "Quiet morning, Miss Julie," he said, "but I do believe I saw Trigger moseying around here earlier. He's probably waiting on you in the break room."

# "Thanks for the heads up," I patted him on the back as I passed by.

# Luke couldn't have been waiting on me because he hadn't been expecting me. But I was there; ready to carry out my hours for the day, dedicated to staying true to my word.

# I headed straight for the break room to get an idea of Luke's whereabouts. If he wasn't there drinking his coffee that only left two options: he'd already gotten his fill and left for the day, or he was running behind schedule and hadn't made a morning pit stop for his daily cup of joe.

# The coffee pot was full to the rim, and I checked the upper cabinet to find one, single, solitary coffee mug on the shelf, one belonging to an Officer Lucas Reibeck. I poured the coffee in the cup and turned to greet him just as he walked in the door.

# He stopped short and stared at me as I leaned against the counter, holding the hot mug with both hands.

# "Good morning, Officer Reibeck," I stepped forward to pass the cup to him. He took the mug, but his eyes never left mine.

# "Julie," he finally said, shaking away whatever kept him staring, and he stood a little straighter, "feeling better today?"

# "Much," I nodded once. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it on Wednesday. It won't happen again."

# "Good." A smile tugged at his lips. "You ready to hit the road?"

# I nodded, knowing I was as ready now as I'd ever be.

# "Let's roll out then," he only took one drink of his coffee before setting it aside.

# Once in the car, Luke and I set out on patrol like all the times before. But the morning was still eerily dark, and the rain poured from the sky, pelting the cruiser with heavy strikes.

# A few blocks from the station, Luke parked the car off the side of the road.

# "Quiet morning," he said as a large bolt of lightning struck across the distant skyline.

# I nodded, not knowing exactly what to say. Was I supposed to pretend that I didn't like him? Like he'd never heard those things I'd said to Matt? Or was I supposed to just be quiet and let him say whatever he was going to say?

# "I was wrong to assume that you didn't have an interest in the field," he finally said, still looking straight forward as the rain fell harder. "I didn't know about your dad."

# "It's fine," I looked away. "It's just something I've been around my whole life, you know? Between Dad and Charlie, I felt like I already knew everything I could possibly care to know."

# He nodded as though he understood, but I knew he couldn't. Luke was the kind of guy who'd dedicated his life to his job; he'd risked his own safety to protect his community. He did it for the job, he did it for the passion, and he did it to survive his mother's legacy.

# "It's not that I don't respect what you do," I said, hoping to set the record straight. "I do, I respect it with all my heart. But I just have a hard time trying to figure out why anyone would want to risk sacrificing so much, and get so little in return."

# "It's not about getting anything back," he said, and I truly believed he meant that. "It's about paying it forward. So many cops before us have lost their lives because of the path they followed; people like your dad, Julie. And we owe it to them to fight back. It's not a job you choose when you get into this field. It's not a career, and it's certainly not a hobby. When it comes right down to it, you're choosing a lifestyle. And no, this lifestyle isn't for everyone. I can respect that. But you need to respect it, too. It isn't something to take lightly."

# I peered through the darkness to meet his gaze, mesmerized by the softer side he was showing me.

# "I don't take it lightly," I said. "I think it's admirable what you do. But I can't help but look at every man and woman in uniform and blame them for their selfishness."

# Luke scrunched his brow. "It's the most selfless thing a person could do, so I don't follow—"

# "My mom lost her life because of this job," I said. "And it could've just as easily been me. Dad wasn't just risking his life when he chose this lifestyle, Luke. He risked the lives of everyone he knew, loved, and cared about."

# "What happened to your parents was a tragedy, Julie. But it's unheard of. Most guys violent enough to commit a crime that heinous never see the light of day after their arrest. I'm not saying that terrible things don't happen. They do. But you can't call us selfish because of what happened to your parents. If your dad had any reason to believe his family was in danger—"

# "Yeah," I felt no need to hear him repeat the same words Matt and Charlie had been saying since the funeral. If dad had known, he would've prevented it. I felt a tear slip down my cheek and land on my lips.

# "It's just hard," I said. "I miss him so much, but I can't get past hating him. He should've protected her, Luke. He should've looked out for my mom. Husbands are supposed to protect their wives, and he let her down. He let me down. He let her die, and I lost my mom. Now they're both gone."

# "Julie—"

# "All I want is to see him one more time... just once, so I can tell him how much I blame him... and how much I miss him... and how much I need both of them to just come home."

# As I sat in the passenger's seat, tears soaking the top of my shirt, Luke took my hand and brushed my fingers with his. It looked as though he had a million things running through his mind, but none that he knew how to say. He chose to maintain the silence, letting me cry for a little while longer. When the moments passed, and the rain let up, the sun finally started to shine on the horizon.

# I dried the tears with the back of my hand and passed an apologetic glance to Luke.

# "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I shouldn't have—"

# "It's okay," he squeezed my fingers tighter. "It's healthy to get that out."

# I nodded.

# "And Julie," his brown eyes met mine as he leaned a little closer, "you can't blame Charlie, and you most certainly can't blame anyone else in uniform. And if the day ever comes that you find yourself falling for someone who's chosen the same lifestyle as your father, you can't blame him for what you've lost either. You can't make him suffer. If anything, let him help you. You can't live your life in fear, kid. At some point—and I'm not saying it's going to be easy, you have to learn to let go."

# I bit back another sob and looked away, staring out the window and avoiding the soft look in his eye. Something told me that Luke knew a thing or two about holding on to fear, but it still didn't comfort me.

# "I'm not ready to let go," I heard the bitterness in my voice.

# I turned back and looked at our linked hands, and back up to Luke's half-hearted grin.

# "What do you say we change the subject for now?" he knew that I was on the verge of another emotional breakdown. Either he didn't want to listen to another sobfest, or he truly wanted to spare me from dealing with all those raw emotions. "How's that sound?"

# "Like a very, very good idea."

# "Okay," he looked down at the notebook. "Any more questions you haven't asked?"

# There were plenty on the page, but none that would open the door to who he really was. All the questions I wanted answers to were the ones burning in my heart, the ones that would lead me closer to knowing everything I could know about him. Sadly, he was right back at the station the other day. I didn't really care about the job-shadowing program, the report, or getting a passing grade. All I really cared about was learning as much as I possibly could about the man sitting next to me.

# "The scar," I gently gnawed on the top of my lip. "How'd you get it?"

# "Another story for another time," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

# I accepted his answer, though still unable to pull my gaze from his lips. I couldn't help but wonder a million things I knew I shouldn't... for starters, what would they feel like? Or better yet, how would they taste?

# And as if he knew the questions I'd been thinking, he pulled his hand from mine and repositioned himself.

# "What do you say we hit the road?"

# Jilted by his sudden change of heart, I nodded and readjusted.

# "So," he pulled out on the road to start our morning shift, "what's next in your line of questioning?"

# I looked down to the tear-soaked notebook sitting in my lap and opened it up to an earmarked page.

# Just as Matt had observed, the page was full of barely legible scribbles... and dozens of tiny hearts. There were still so many questions I wanted to ask him, so much more I wanted to learn, but I didn't know where to begin. At what point were my questions crossing the line of professionalism? And at what point would he read into my curiosity and refuse to answer?

# Feeling as though it was best to keep my inquiries as closely related to the job as possible, I scanned the list and stopped at a question halfway down the page.

# I poised the pen over the paper and asked, "Officer Reibeck, in your time on the force, have you ever suffered a serious injury?"

# "Once," he admitted, his tone laced with humor.

# "The scar?" I hoped I'd finally hear the story he'd seemed reluctant to share earlier.

# "No, not the scar," he said, definitely. "I was shot."

# "Shot?" I asked with wide eyes. My mind raced to find the right question to ask next, but my imagination ran wild with scenarios. Shot during an arrest? A drug bust gone wrong?

# Who?

# Where?

# Why?

# I took a deep breath to help calm myself. "Care to elaborate on the circumstances surrounding the shooting?"

# "Certainly," he turned onto Main. "Went to the shooting range last year with a couple of buddies. We were halfway through target practice, and your Uncle Charlie cracked a joke about Bruno. I lost sight of where we were, what we were doing, and my finger slipped on the trigger."

# "You shot yourself?"

# "Right in the foot."

# "And that's why they call you Trigger?"

# We shared a laugh, and as we turned on to Linden Avenue, a strange sensation settled in the pit of my stomach.

# Luke was opening up to me, and not because he had to; because he wanted to.

# And as I watched him appreciatively from the passenger's seat, it was the look in his soft, brown eyes as he threw me a sideways glance that made me wonder if maybe Lucas Reibeck had developed feelings for me.

# And maybe, just maybe... I wasn't the only one experiencing what Luke had so lovingly labeled just a little crush.

#

# JUST A LITTLE EMBRACE

#

# "Up and at 'em, Little," Luke's voice rang through my ears. He ripped the sheets from my bed and flipped on the lights. "You'll have plenty of time to sleep when you're dead. Now get up."

# I rolled over and checked the clock.

# 4:00 a.m., just as I'd suspected.

# I buried my face in the pillow and prayed my pink satin pajamas would be enough to keep me warm. Whether he liked it or not, I was sleeping in. And I didn't need the sheets, a dark room, or even privacy. I could sleep in even the roughest conditions. The joke was on him.

# "Don't even think about it," he stomped to the side of the bed. He tucked his arms under my body and pulled me up. He swung my legs over the bedside and backed away with heavy steps. "You have five minutes. Use them wisely." And with that, Luke marched out of my bedroom and closed the door behind him.

# I let my weary eyes wander across the room, and it didn't take but a second before I noticed the white sports bra and shorts I'd laid out the night before.

# Right—our run.

# With ten hours to go before completing my job-shadowing requirement for the Oakland High School senior project, my Uncle Charlie suggested I forget about patrolling the streets and start living the lifestyle required of any man, or in my case, woman, in uniform.

# To me, that meant sitting around the Oakland PD break room all morning eating donuts and sipping coffee. To my mentor Luke, it meant waking up at an ungodly hour to get in a five-mile run to jump start the day.

# I hadn't known Luke long, two weeks to be exact, and each day we spent together came with its own set of surprises. When it came to Officer Lucas Reibeck, there were only two things I knew for certain. One, there was no one in the world who could hold a candle to his physical assets. His dark hair, brown eyes, and strong stature only began to lay the groundwork. And two, the crush I'd developed during my first ten hours of job-shadowing hadn't come close to subsiding. If anything, it had only grown by leaps and bounds, and I blamed a lot of that on the fact that I'd been forced to shadow a man who was the walking definition of irresistible.

# "Three minutes, Little," Luke tapped on the door.

# I mustered the energy to stand and traipsed across the room to my workout attire. I stripped my pajamas to the floor and slid into the sports bra and workout shorts before completing the ensemble with a pair of pink tennis shoes.

# I stopped at the mirror and ran a brush through my hair and meticulously styled it back into a ponytail. With a quick application of lip gloss and a single brush of mascara, I dubbed myself acceptable.

# Yes, it was only a run. No, I didn't have to look beautiful. But it was a run with Luke, and I couldn't squander a single opportunity to catch his eye.

# I left the room and reminded myself that just down the hall my cousin Matt was sleeping soundly. Lucky for him he had another two hours of beauty rest before he'd have to get up and be ready for school.

# I took each step down the back staircase a little slower than the one before. With heavy feet and a yawn, I took the last step to reach the first floor. When I stepped into the kitchen, Luke and Charlie looked up from the table with wide eyes.

# "What are you wearing?" my Uncle Charlie asked, shielding his eyes. "For the love of God, Julie, go upstairs and put some clothes on."

# I looked at my outfit. Sports bra and shorts, what was so wrong with that? "I thought we were running—"

# "We are," Luke interrupted, standing up to take a step closer. I caught his eyes wandering down my torso for a brief moment before he looked up to meet my gaze. "I guess you're ready?"

# "Guess so," I turned to Charlie. "You comin' with us?"

# Still shielding his eyes, he shook his head and motioned for us to leave.

# "He's not comfortable with you baring so much skin," Luke said as we walked out of the kitchen and through the living room to the foyer.

# In his running shirt and black shorts, Luke looked just as irresistible as he always had in his police uniform, if not more so, but I didn't really mind either way. The way the material clung to his muscles made my heart flutter a bit off beat. As I stood in front of the door assessing his shoulders and tight chest with a mindful eye, I caught him gazing at me yet again.

# "Is it that bothersome?" I looked down at myself. "Would you like me to go upstairs and put a shirt on?"

# He closed his parted lips and shook his head. "We don't have time for that now, Little. I'll just have to suffer."

# With a quick wink and a light smirk, he walked out the door, leaving me stunned in the doorway.

# Was Luke flirting with me?

# The morning sky was dark as night, and the sun hadn't yet begun to show. I followed closely behind Luke and met him on the sidewalk where he was already bent over at the waist, touching his toes, and stretching his muscles in preparation for the run. I stood and watched as he stretched, appreciating his loyalty to everything he did.

# "You need to warm-up, Julie," he glanced up. "You'll pay for it if you don't."

# "I'm young," I waved my hand. "Stretching is for the elderly."

# "And exactly how old do you think I am?"

# "Old enough," I said, not disguising my disappointment for a single moment.

# Yes, Luke was old, every bit of twenty three, give or take a few months, making him six years older and in his opinion, six years too old for me.

# I watched as he finished his stretch and used each moment he was bent over to my full visual advantage. He finally stood and looked at me, the street lights dancing off of his brown eyes.

# "You're really not going to stretch?" he asked.

# I smiled and shrugged, hoping that would be answer enough.

# It was a five-mile run. How hard could that possibly be?

# And before I had time to register another thought, Luke set off on his run. I watched him from the sidewalk, knowing I'd be scolded if I didn't soon follow, but I took a brief moment to appreciate the alone time we'd spend together, even if that time was limited to complete exertion.

# As I took my first step forward, a light inside the neighboring house came on, attracting my immediate attention. The face of a teenage girl appeared behind the curtain of the downstairs window. I turned to watch her for a moment, looking on as she stared at me intently from inside the house.

# It was odd to see her there in the first place, especially at that hour—it was so ungodly early in the morning; there was no reason any ordinary person should be awake, let alone standing in their window and watching their neighbors. Anyway, I'm not sure the hour of the morning surprised me nearly as much as the fact that there was even anyone in the house. The neighbors had moved out months ago, and last I'd heard, the house still hadn't been sold.

# But there was definitely someone there, and she hadn't taken her eyes off of me. If I didn't know any better, I'd think her staring wasn't nearly as innocent as it was supposed to seem.

# ♥♥♥

#

# I was ready to die one mile into the run.

# Luke hadn't taken kindly to my complaining, especially when I whined about the pain in my legs and back. You should've stretched, Little, he'd said over and over. I wished someone would've told me that running wasn't as easy as it looked.

# By the time I reached school, the thoughts of the morning were far from distant memories. The aching in my legs served as a constant reminder that Luke expected only the best from me, and that required full dedication to each and every task he threw my way. If I wanted to earn his respect, I'd have to start taking him and his tasks seriously.

# I slid into the first desk and threw a sideways glance at my cousin.

# "Rough morning?"

# "You have no idea," I dropped my head on the wooden surface in front of me.

# A sympathetic look crossed Matt's face as he leaned over to pat my back. "Trigger'll have you whipped into shape in no time."

# "I only logged an hour with him this morning," I said, lifting my head. My messy hair shielded my face as I turned to look at him. "That's nine more hours of doing whatever in the world he comes up with. He's killing me."

# "Because you're letting him," he pushed his fingers back through his hair. "Just go along with his plans for the next few days, and before you know it, he'll be gone and out of your life. You'll never have to worry about him again."

# I didn't need the reminder. I could only foresee another nine hours with Luke, and it pulled at my heart in ways I couldn't even describe. After the shadowing was over, would I ever see him again? Would he ever want to see me again? How would I make it through each day knowing I wouldn't get to see him, even if only for a moment? I knew I hadn't known him long; I wasn't oblivious to that at all, but something about Luke had just made me feel so normal for a change.

# "Ladies and gentlemen," Mrs. Brown stood in front of the class, "I'd like to introduce you to our newest addition." Standing in the front of the room was a small, petite redhead with eyes as emerald as I'd ever seen. The girl watched over the class with a freckled smile—one that was somewhat mischievous, and somewhat familiar. "This is Hannah Jones."

# Hannah, the redhead, nodded to the class before her gaze immediately fell on Matt. The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like forever, but Mrs. Brown finally spoke up again, breaking their staring match, and assigned Hannah to the empty desk in the back of the room.

# By the end of the class period, our teacher had explained our latest current events project and assigned two-person teams across the board. Hannah's addition brought about an odd number. Because Mrs. Brown didn't think it would be fair to make the new girl work alone, she gave her the opportunity to pick which group she'd want to work with. Of course, given her glazed-over staring match with Matt earlier, she chose to work in our group, making us the only three-partner team in class.

# The rest of the day went as smoothly as any other, and after school, Matt and I met up with Hannah at her locker as promised. "Thanks again for letting me join you," she said, looking past me to watch Matt. My cousin grinned sheepishly. He had never been one to get nervous around a girl, especially since he usually spent his days fighting flocks of potential suitors. But Hannah seemed to affect him in ways even I couldn't understand.

# "I'm sure you're still busy with the move and getting settled in, so we understand if you aren't able to start working right away," I said, making my presence known. "We have plenty of time."

# "Oh no," she wore her mischievous smile, "I think it's best that we get started right away." She looked to Matt as if she needed him to take her side—not that there were even any sides to take. All I'd wanted was to make her feel as comfortable as possible, and I'd hoped to give her time to ease into her first major assignment. "What do you say, Matt?"

# "I'm with Hannah," Matt turned back to me. He almost acted as if she'd put a spell on him; he was so taken by her. "We should put in as much time as we can as soon as possible. It's always smart to stay ahead of the curve."

# If Matt and Hannah wanted to get started right away, that was fine by me. And fortunately for them, I hadn't scheduled any shadowing hours for the evening. My 4:00 a.m. run was all the Luke I could handle for one day, at least in that capacity. So for the night, my focus belonged solely to them.

# CHAPTER TWO

#

# "This is where you live?" Hannah assessed our two-story brick house.

# Matt smiled proudly and nodded, "Home, sweet home."

# Hannah turned and pointed to the neighboring house. "Then I guess we're neighbors," she giggled. "My brother and I just moved in next door."

# I stared at Hannah, suddenly realizing that she was in fact the same girl who'd watched me that morning as I'd set off for my run with Luke. Just like earlier that day, she kept her green eyes fixed on mine as if she'd taken a special interest in me.

# An eerie chill ran up my spine as I returned her stare; there was just something about her. Something about Hannah Jones didn't rub me the right way.

# Once inside the house, Matt and Hannah spread the morning newspaper across the dining room table and began assessing the latest articles. As I struggled to fit between them in order to contribute to the assignment, Hannah moved back and looked at me straight on.

# "Julie," she said with an edge in her voice, "two newspapers are better than one, wouldn't you say?"

# I nodded as if the answer should've been obvious. I hadn't known the girl for eight hours, and I was already ready to wring her neck. Her attitude just didn't sit well with me.

# "We don't use our paper next door," she said, almost too sweetly. "It might be easier if you just run over and get it from the driveway. That way you can have your own."

# "Great idea," Matt put an arm across her shoulders. "Isn't that a great idea, Julie?"

# I rolled my eyes in complete disgust at how quickly he'd taken to her.

# "I'll be back," I said, taking her order, but not doing so happily.

# As I reached the edge of the neighboring driveway and picked up the paper, a loud voice called over.

# "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

# I looked up to find a man somewhere around Luke's age, I'd guessed, perched against the porch railing and looking down on me with a grin. His short, strawberry-blond hair moved slightly in the wind as he shook his head. Though he was close to Luke's age, the similarities stopped there. This man was thin and cute, not rugged and handsome. He wore silver rectangular-framed glasses, and a grin that could make any girl fall weak in the knees. In the simplest of terms, he was as adorable as a dorky man could be; he was adorkable.

# "You go around stealing everyone's newspapers, or you just targeting the new guy on the block?"

# Half-smiling, I stood tall as the man stepped off the porch and met me mid-driveway. He reached forward, took the newspaper from my hand, and nodded in thanks.

# "I'll take that."

# "I'm sorry," I said, looking back at our house. I suddenly felt like an idiot. Of course he thought I was targeting him, I hadn't even tried to explain myself. "You must be Hannah's brother?"

# I extended my hand to shake his, but he didn't return the gesture. "That depends," he said, his expression growing a little grim. "How do you know Hannah?"

# "Oh," I mentally smacked myself, "she's in my current events class. She's working on a project with me and my cousin." I nodded at our house. "We started working right after school, but only had one paper and well, I guess three was a crowd." He nodded, still looking for elaboration. "She suggested that I come over and take your paper. I didn't know it was going to be a problem. She said you guys didn't need it."

# "Well, I'm glad she's getting involved," he said, ignoring almost everything I'd just said. "She's never been much for socializing."

# "Ah," I shrugged, "she had me fooled. I don't think her will to work has quite as much to do with the assignment as it does my cousin, Matt."

# "Oh, boy," he said, shaking his head. Though he'd just said that his sister was never one for socializing, he didn't seem too surprised that she'd already found herself a boy to cling to. "She's not wasting any time, is she?"

# I smiled, but only out of politeness. I didn't want to give Hannah's brother any reason to believe that I hated his sister.

# "So between school and robbing neighborhood driveways, what do you find yourself doing for fun in Oakland? Any tips for a newbie?"

# I shrugged, "Sorry to report, but there's just not a whole lot going on around here. It's a small town."

# He looked down the street, back at his house, and then back to me. "It sure is."

# As I stared into his blue eyes, something vaguely familiar about his appearance struck me; it was almost as if I'd met him before. We shared a strange connection, something almost magnetic, yet I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.

# "What brings you to town?" I studied his face a little closer. I couldn't imagine it was a job offer because the economy had fallen in the toilet in recent years, but it couldn't hurt to be polite (or nosy) and ask. "Job transfer?"

# "No," he tore his gaze away from mine, "we just needed a new place for a fresh start, you know? Hannah threw the dart on the map, and we landed here in Oakland."

# The man nodded, still smiling. His round eyes glistened beneath his glasses, and as the wind picked up, he finally extended his hand to shake mine.

# "Derek."

# "Julie," I shook his hand, "Julie Little."

# Derek's blue eyes widened as he looked down at me with an expressionless stare. A moment went by, and his mouth hung ajar as I stared back at him.

# "Julie," he said, acting as though my name left a sour taste in his mouth. He pulled his hand back as if the simple touch of my skin would burn him. He stood taller and crammed both of his hands into his pockets. "Well, Julie," he backed a couple of steps away, "it was nice meeting you, but I've gotta get back inside." He tossed the newspaper back to me and turned to walk away as a police siren bleeped on the curb, and the sight of blue and red flashing lights came into view from the corner of my eye.

# Derek stopped dead in his tracks and turned around, looking from me to the cruiser, and then down to his feet. He stood perfectly still as the car came to a halt, and he looked as though he fully expected to be carted away.

# The cruiser lights flipped off and Luke stepped out of the car dressed in full uniform.

# "Here to arrest me?" I called over.

# With a small grin, Luke looked past me and his eyes landed on Derek. "Who's your friend?"

# "Oh," I looked between the two men, "this is our new neighbor, Derek." I lifted the newspaper a little higher. "He's letting me borrow his paper for a project. Derek," I turned to my neighbor, "this is Luke. He's my... he works with my uncle. He's my mentor for a school job-shadowing project."

# "Officer," Derek nodded before turning back to me. "Again, it was nice to finally meet you, Julie." He cleared his throat and nodded. "If you could, please tell Hannah not to be too long. She and I have some things to square away before the end of the day."

# Derek took his porch steps quickly and disappeared behind the door.

# Luke looked at me with wide eyes.

# "Squirrelly guy," he observed.

# "Yeah, well we were having a perfectly nice conversation before you turned the corner and scared the daylights out of him with your lights, siren, and pompous attitude." I smacked him in the chest. "What's with you?"

# "Just making sure you were alert," he said, still looking at the house next door. "Learn anything interesting about the new neighbors?"

# I shrugged. "Nothing."

# I traced his facial features with my eyes, taking special note of the way his scarred lip curved up.

# "What's up?" I asked, still watching him closely. "You still on duty?"

# "I am," he shook his head as if he'd lost track of where he was. "I was just passing by and thought I'd stop and see how you were feeling. How're the legs?"

# He smiled at me like he somehow enjoyed the fact that I had underestimated the amount of pain I'd be feeling after our morning run. After all the complaining I'd done, I wasn't surprised he'd found it necessary to check in, but it was a sweet sentiment nonetheless.

# "Great," I lied, too concerned with admiring his brown eyes. "Never been better."

# He smiled, and for a brief moment, the air between us seemed to take on a heavy magnetic attraction; something had suddenly changed, and I could feel the space between our bodies closing with each passing breath.

# The gap between our bodies closed, and my heart took off on a wild cadence. My chest pressed lightly against his, and I stared up to watch his eyes as his face inched closer to mine. I felt my body jump as he reached up to move a stray hair from my face just before he leaned down and brushed his warm lips across my earlobe.

# I closed my eyes and let Luke's closeness overcome me; I had no idea why he'd suddenly gotten so close, but I couldn't even begin to care. He was close enough to touch, heck, he was touching, and every hormone in my little body raged like wildfire.

# "Keep your eyes peeled, Julie," he whispered, brushing my ear with every move of his lips. But as fast as we'd gotten close, we were apart again. He backed away and winked as if he knew just how badly he'd been toying with my heart. He retreated to his car and turned back long enough to say, "I'll see you first thing in the morning."

# Jilted, I rolled my eyes and watched as he settled behind the wheel and drove away. I put my hand over my heart, hoping it would calm itself sooner or later, and turned to head back inside to join Hannah and Matt. But as I turned on my heel, I suddenly noticed Derek standing at his window, peeking through the curtains just as his sister had done earlier that day.

# Keep your eyes peeled, Julie.

# I finally understood what Luke had meant. It was the second time that day I'd been spied on from my neighbor's window, and I didn't like it. Not one bit.

# CHAPTER THREE

#

# Thursday had come and gone with another hour of running with Luke. It hadn't gone any better than the day before. So, with those two runs behind us, I only had eight hours left in my job-shadowing stint before Luke and I would have to part ways.

# I dropped by the station at noon to invite Charlie to lunch, but I masked a hidden agenda. I'd hoped to catch Luke as he stopped in before lunch for no particular reason, but did I really need one? As far as I could tell, he was nowhere to be found. His patrol car was missing from the lot, and there was no sign of his eventual return.

# "Hey there, Pumpkin," Charlie watched me come in. He leaned against his office doorframe. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

# "Hey," I smiled at him, "you've just been working so much lately," I threw a glance over my shoulder. "I thought maybe you'd like to take a break and have lunch?"

# "No can do, sweet pea," he said, seemingly disappointed. With as little time as we'd spent together lately, Charlie probably would've enjoyed some one-on-one time. "I had an early lunch. Today's been a day from hell."

# "Yeah, okay," I said, not really listening. I looked around the building once again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Luke. With no luck, I turned back to Charlie. "I guess I'll see you at home later?"

# "Absolutely."

# When Charlie disappeared back into his office and closed the door, I slumped my shoulders and headed for the door.

# "He's gone over to West Bridge for the afternoon," Detective Bruno said.

# I turned back to the fifty-something man as he leaned against his desk. "Huh?"

# "You're looking for Trigger," he said, and there wasn't a bit of question in his tone. He was a smart one, that Detective. But I couldn't let on that I'd shown up for any other reason than to visit Charlie. "He said he had business in West Bridge today. He should be back around six for the poker game."

# "Oh," I shrugged my shoulder, "I was just here to see Charlie."

# "Sure you were," he said, a smile enveloping his face. "I can give Trigger a message. You want me to let him know you dropped by?"

# "I was just visiting my uncle—"

# "Okay," he threw his hands up, "I guess you're both in denial then."

# I rolled my eyes and pushed through the door of the station, only taking two steps outside before Detective Bruno's last words finally registered.

# I turned back and opened the door only to find Bruno standing right in front of me.

# "I wondered how long it was gonna take you."

# "What did you mean—?"

# "Mi querida," he shook his head and patted me on the back, "it's all in your eyes—and his too. I know it when I see it. I've spent my whole life reading people, interpreting the words they say and, better yet, the words they don't say."

# I scrunched my brow and stared at him for a lingering moment. "What do you see?"

# "The love," he smiled, as though he knew something I didn't. "The love."

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# "Love," I rested my chin in my hand. I sat on the barstool at the center island in the kitchen. "Do you think I love him?"

# Matt looked up at me from a sheet of cookies, his eyes widening.

# "Not possible, Julie," he said. "You've known Luke for what, two and a half weeks?"

# "Something like that."

# "Love takes time to mature," he said with a definite sense of finality. Matt had never been one to believe in love at first sight. I thought that his recent circumstances with Hannah might've changed his mind, but it clearly hadn't. "You're not in love, Julie. It's just an infatuation. It'll wear off in time."

# "But Detective Bruno—"

# "Is a nut," he said, carefully decorating the cookies with a fiery red icing.

# "I guess," I wished somewhere deep inside that maybe Bruno had seen something I had failed to.

# "Are you hanging out with Hannah tonight?" I expected his answer to be the same as it had been every night since Wednesday. The two of them were practically inseparable.

# "Yeah," he nodded at the baking sheet, "I promised to take her some of my famous cookies."

# "You're going over there?" I asked, surprised that I would be getting an evening away from Hannah for a change. Her presence had been a bit overbearing because when that girl visited, she didn't show up without a string of personal questions and a bad attitude. She had no sense of personal boundaries, and I had no idea what Matt saw in her.

# "Yeah," he said as though there were no other option, "I didn't want to expose her to Dad's poker night."

# "Poker night?" I asked. "Here?"

# "He didn't tell you?" Matt asked, almost regretful that he hadn't mentioned it sooner. "Dad has one big poker night every year. Tonight's the night. And between Dad, Bruno, and some of the other guys from the station, it gets pretty rowdy."

# "Other guys?" I wondered if Luke was included among the others. Bruno had mentioned that Luke would be back in time for a game. "What time is this thing supposed to start?"

# "They'll be showing up any minute," he put the final touches on the last cookie. "And yes, since I know you're dying to know, Trigger will be here."

# "Oh," I nodded as if his information didn't faze me. What he didn't need to know was that I felt like a giddy schoolgirl; I could feel every one of nerves jumping up and down with excitement. I glanced at the clock and back to Matt. "Well, have fun with Hannah tonight. I'm going to run up and get a shower."

# "To impress Trigger?"

# "So that I don't look like a slob for Charlie's guests."

# "You never look like a slob."

# "Bye, Matt," I called over my shoulder as I ran up the back staircase taking two steps at a time.

# After a quick shower, I spent a while styling my hair and perfecting my make-up, taking extra time to choose a very special outfit. If Luke was going to be in the house this evening, especially in a casual capacity, I wanted to make sure he couldn't help but look my way.

# I stood at the closet with the towel still wrapped around me, plucking through each shirt, skirt, and dress I owned. When I finally settled on an orange turtleneck dress, I took one last glance in the mirror and ruled myself perfectly acceptable.

# A roar of laughter came from the kitchen five minutes later. Obviously the men had already arrived, and from the sound of things, had taken no time to break out the alcohol and get the party started. For a group of educated cops, they sounded like a room full of frat boys.

# I walked downstairs to find Charlie, Bruno, and a few handfuls of other men sitting around three poker tables. They were all smoking cigars, all except Luke, who was at the farthest table, carefully dealing out a hand to his fellow players. He never once glanced up to notice me as I announced myself with a simple, "Hello."

# Most of the men turned to greet me, and a few even let their gaze linger a little longer than appropriate. I peeked at Luke once again, hoping to get some kind of acknowledgement, but I didn't get so much as a glance.

# "What can we do for you, Pumpkin?" Charlie took a long drag from his cigar.

# "Just wanted to let you know I'm going out," I said, with no intention of actually leaving. After all, I had no plans. Where would I possibly go? I'd only gotten ready for the sole purpose of making a grand entrance—one, as far as I could tell, that had gone completely to waste.

# "Back by midnight," he said with a smile. "Have fun."

# "That's it?" I asked, frustrated that he didn't care enough to ask where I was going, and even angrier that Luke hadn't looked up once to indicate any kind of interest. "No string of questions? No rules? Just a back by midnight and have fun?"

# "What do you want me to say?" Charlie asked, focusing all of his attention on the game. "You're you. What kind of trouble could you possibly get in to?"

# "Forget it," I mumbled. "Have fun."

# I turned and walked out of the room, and my heart broke a little with each step I took. It seemed to me that Bruno had been way off. Luke didn't have feelings for me; he wasn't even the slightest bit interested. But—for reasons I couldn't quite understand, my heart ached for him, and I didn't know how much more of his cold shoulder I could take.

# CHAPTER FOUR

#

# I sat on the porch step for the third consecutive hour and let the rain fall on my face. I wondered how much longer I'd have to stay out in the dark, wallowing in my own self-pity. At what point could I just give up the pretense and sneak back in the house?

# The sun had set, and all that was left of the day was the faint drizzle of rain as it dropped from the night sky.

# "Julie," a familiar voice said quietly, "what are you doing out here in the dark?"

# I glanced up to the sidewalk to see our newest neighbor standing at the edge of the pavement with a leashed dog in hand. The white, slightly damp German shepherd licked Derek's hand as he took a step closer.

# "I guess you're not afraid of a little rain," he observed, watching as beads of water dripped off the ends of my hair. I could only imagine that I looked like death—my face was soaked from the rainfall, and there were probably plenty of mascara trails left over from the tears I'd cried since leaving the house.

# Derek took a seat next to me on the bottom step, and the dog rested in a puddle at his owner's feet. "Everything okay?"

# I nodded, but didn't say anything.

# "I don't know," he said, his voice laced with skepticism, "Looks to me like someone needs to talk."

# I gave him a half-hearted grin and shrugged.

# It was nice that he offered, but the only person I'd ever trust with my feelings for Luke was Matt, and even he had been a worthless confidant since Hannah had come along. Deciding that it was probably a terrible idea to unload my problems on a perfect stranger, I bit my tongue and shrugged. My silence didn't last long; before I knew it, I found myself looking up to meet his stare.

# "My uncle has a houseful of guests," I said. "There's just a lot going on in there."

# "And you feel left out?"

# "No," I said, honestly, "just in the way, I guess."

# He nodded, but he was still skeptical. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted me to talk to him; he seemed to actually care what was on my mind. But I didn't feel much like sharing, so I tried to find a way to pull the focus off of me.

# "So," I nodded uncomfortably, "how do you like Oakland so far?"

# He smirked and met my gaze, sparking a bout of wonderment between the two of us. "No complaints."

# "Good," I said, unable to tear my eyes away from his. Again, I couldn't help but wonder why I recognized him. "Okay, I have to ask, why do you look so familiar?" I hoped that my question wouldn't take him off guard. I was only curious if I was as familiar to him as he was to me. "I swear I must know you from somewhere."

# He didn't seem taken aback by my inquiry, only intrigued.

# "Maybe we knew each other in another life," he said as if he truly believed it.

# "Yeah," I said, half-smiling, "maybe."

# "Hey," he looked down at his sleeping dog to avoid my gaze. His voice sounded a little shaky, so I could only assume that he was suddenly nervous about something. "I know I shouldn't even ask this, I'm kicking myself for bringing it up already, especially considering you're as young as my kid sister, but I was curious if maybe you'd like to go out sometime?"

# "Oh."

# "Just for dinner, or maybe a movie, nothing too formal," he assured me. "It's just a new town. It'd be nice to have someone to hang out with."

# My cheeks flushed with warmth, and while I took a moment to contemplate what he was really asking me, I shook my head.

# "Thanks, but I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

# "Why?" he smiled a little too innocently. "You enjoy our conversations, right?"

# "I do."

# "And I've been told I have a pretty charming smile."

# "You do," I said, silently agreeing that there was a definite charm in the way his eyes gleamed when he smiled.

# "Then what is it?" he asked, but it was only a light-hearted tease. I didn't feel the slightest bit pressured by his questions. Honestly, I liked Derek. He seemed genuine; he was sweet, honest, and seemed to really care about connecting with people on a deeper level. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

# "No, no boyfriend."

# "Is it me?" he pulled his lip back into a cute smirk. "It's me, isn't it?"

# I tried not to smile, but the goofy grin on his face made it next to impossible.

# "It's not you," I promised, almost laughing. But then my mood suddenly changed, and nothing really felt so light-hearted anymore. "It's a long story. It's complicated. It's—"

# "Julie," another voice interrupted me, only this one came from behind. I turned to find Luke standing on the front porch, looking down on me and Derek. I stood up, smiled, and straightened the wrinkles from my wet dress.

# "Luke," I whispered, taking a step.

# Derek let out a slight chuckle and stood up, waking his groggy pet.

# "It's Luke," he said to me with a wink. "Gotcha. That's all you had to say."

# "What?" I turned back to Derek. "Oh, no, it's not... I just—"

# "It's cool," he said, never losing his smile. "Really... I should've known." He nodded toward the dog. "I've gotta get this big guy home. So, I'll see you around, I guess?"

# "Yeah," I watched him walk away. I turned back to Luke and bit my lip, unsure of what to say.

# "You guys having fun in there?" I asked after a few quiet seconds.

# "What was that all about?" Luke kept his eyes fixed on Derek. After my neighbor disappeared into his own house, Luke motioned for me to come closer, so I took the next two steps and joined him on the porch. He slid in close to my body and lifted his hand to my face to wipe away the black make-up with his thumb; he smeared the excess onto his jeans. I noticed immediately that while he moved with purpose, his movements seemed far too clumsy and out of his controlled nature.

# "Derek was just asking if I'd want to go out sometime," I looked at my feet.

# Luke watched and waited for me to elaborate, but when I didn't say anything else, he leaned a little closer. "And you said?"

# "No."

# "Because it would be irresponsible."

# "It would?"

# "Of course," he shook his head. "He's too old for you, kid. And you know nothing about him. You don't need to waste your time with other men right now, anyway. You need to focus on school and your senior project."

# "Yeah," I nodded, "my project."

# "And me."

# "You?"

# "Because of the assignment."

# "Right."

# Our eyes locked, and for the second time that week, his face inched closer to mine. But I didn't let my hormones get the best of me; based on my experience with Luke, I knew that his closeness was only a ruse. What I didn't know was what he was up to. All I could do was stand there and wonder what in the world he planned to whisper sweetly in my ear before turning to run away. As he got closer, his nose brushed mine, and our foreheads rested against one another.

# "I'm sorry," he said, the warmth of his breath dancing across my face. I detected the strong scent of alcohol almost immediately, and I took a moment to remind myself that anything he did or said in that moment was completely compromised by a vast amount of liquid courage.

# "Why are you sorry?" I heard my voice tremble.

# "Because I know," he said, almost whispering. "I know how much it hurts, Julie. And I'm sorry you have to go through this alone."

# "Go through what?"

# "Loving me," he said without shame. "Needing me. Wanting me."

# "I don't love you, Luke," I almost laughed. I didn't know if my words even mattered, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he had the upper hand, not when he continued to turn a blind eye to everything I'd put forward.

# "What?" he scrunched his brow as if he didn't quite understand.

# "I don't love you."

# "Well, I do," he wrapped his arms around me. "I do, Julie."

# "You love you?" I teased. "Believe me, Luke; I already knew that, hon—"

# "No, no, no, no, no," he covered my lips with a single finger, "I meant you."

# I suddenly felt my stomach churn in knots. I looked into his dark eyes as they shined back at me with hazy uncertainty. I reminded myself for a second time not to fall victim; Luke wasn't necessarily in his right mind. I had to take everything he said with a grain of salt. But even still... he loved me?

# "Why don't you love me, Julie?" he whispered. "Have I done something wrong?"

# I restrained a small laugh and shook my head.

# "Luke, you treat me like a child."

# "You act like a child."

# "You only acknowledge me when it suits you."

# "Chief would kill me if he knew how I felt—"

# "And you're so damn stubborn. I never know what you're thinking—"

# "I'm telling you now."

# "Because you're drunk, Luke," I said, "and I can't know that anything you're saying has a shred of validity to it."

# "It does, Jules," he stroked my cheek with his thumb. His words slurred more and more as he stood there holding me. "I promise, kid. It does. I'm crazy about you."

# And just as he managed to stumble through his last sentence, an Oakland taxi cab pulled up to the curb.

# "Look," I said, nodding at the car. "I think your ride's here."

# "Please don't make me leave like this," he cupped my face in his palms. "Tell me you're lying, Jules. Tell me you love me."

# "Luke," I pulled out of his grip, "come on."

# I managed to help him as he stumbled down the sidewalk, and then I saw that he was settled safely in the back of the cab. When I shut the door and walked back to the porch, Luke rolled down his window and called out, "You're lying, Julie Little. You—love—me, and you know you do."

# "Good night, Luke," I said with a short wave. "I'll see you Monday morning." As his cab pulled away, I sank back on the step and closed my eyes, hating myself for lying to him.

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# "Up!"

# The blankets flew off the bed, and I rolled over to find Luke standing over me, glaring down as though I'd done something wrong.

# I wasn't nearly as groggy as I'd been in the days past. No, ever since Luke's drunken proclamation of love on Saturday night, I'd gotten used to losing sleep. I wasn't even asleep when he'd busted in my room ten seconds before, which explained my quickness to get out of bed and on with the day's run.

# Luke watched me from the door as I made my way through the room, gathering the essentials for our morning run.

# "Hurry up, Little," he paced at the door, "we're putting in an extra two miles this morning."

# "What?" I asked, but he disappeared into the hallway.

# I slid into my shoes without untying the laces and followed him down the stairs.

# Why was he acting like nothing had changed?

# I surveyed the kitchen and determined that Charlie had already left for the day, so as Luke moved through the house, I reached forward to grab his arm.

# He stopped in his tracks and turned back to me. "Yes?"

# "Can we talk?" I kept my voice low so as not to wake up Matt.

# Luke shrugged. "Sure, what's up?"

# I struggled to find the right words. It wasn't exactly an easy situation to approach. What should I say? And even if I found the right words, how would he respond?

# "Julie?" he waved a hand in front of my face. "What's up?"

# "I just wanted to talk about what happened the other night," I said, nearly whispering.

# "What happened the other night?"

# "You know," I hoped that I wouldn't have to say much to jog his memory, "before you left."

# He scrunched his brow and shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

# "What you said," I said, getting a little irritated. "What you told me."

# "What I told you?" he asked, growing almost as aggravated as I was. "What did I tell you?" As if he didn't need any further elaboration, a worried look swept across his face. "Julie," he said, leaning down to meet my gaze. "What exactly did I say to you?"

# I didn't know how else to say it, so I just said it. I spent the next five minutes reliving our conversation on the porch from him interrupting my talk with Derek, to the moment when the cab pulled away and he called me a liar for not admitting that I loved him. The entire time I talked, Luke looked as though he was hearing it for the first time. He looked as though he didn't believe it had ever happened.

# When he didn't speak, I took a step forward and forced him to meet my gaze. "Luke," I snapped my finger in his face, "why didn't you just tell me that that's how you feel?" He turned on his heel and stomped out of the house, taking long strides down the steps. Then he took off for his run down the sidewalk. "Luke!" I chased after him. "Luke, you didn't stretch—"

# "It's one thing to have a stupid crush, Julie," he called back, still hurrying away, "but it's another thing to try and manipulate me into believing that I actually care about you."

# I finally caught up with him and we ran side-by-side. "You're calling me a liar?"

# "What other explanation is there?"

# "Gee, I don't know," I said, slightly offended by his accusation. "Maybe that you really do have feelings for me?"

# He snorted, turned the corner, and picked up his pace as he left me fighting to keep up.

# "Luke," I hoped to reason with him, "I would never lie to you. I'm telling you the truth!"

# "And another thing," he interrupted, "you shouldn't be hanging out with that Derek guy. I told you I don't trust him."

# "You never said that," I said. "You told me to keep my eyes peeled."

# "Well, I'm telling you now," he said, raising his voice. "Stay away from him."

# "Why?" I asked, taking each stride in step with him. "Because he's nice to me? Because he talks to me like an equal? Because you feel threatened that maybe he'll steal my attention away from you?"

# "Threatened?" he laughed, "God, Julie. Get over yourself."

# As we ran side-by-side for the next two blocks, my side began to ache and my legs were pulsing with cramps. I struggled to keep up with him, and after a second or two, he'd taken a six-foot lead down the sidewalk.

# "Luke," I panted. "Please slow down. I can't keep up—"

# "Not my problem, Little," he said. "You are not my problem."

# As if I couldn't stand another jab from Luke, I stopped in my tracks, picked up a palm-sized rock, and launched it at him, hitting him square in the back.

# He stopped running and turned to me with the promise of an evil wrath burning in his eyes. "What the hell is your problem?"

# "You!" I yelled, taking a second to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. "You know, I'm sorry if you can't accept the truth, Luke, but here it is. I care about you. And I think you care about me, too. You told me you had feelings for me, and despite the context, I can't help but think that that drunken confession the other night was the most honesty I've ever gotten from you."

# "You need to stop," he pointed a finger at me. "You don't love me, Julie, and you don't want me to love you."

# With that, he turned away and took off running once again.

# "Luke!" I yelled as he turned the corner. "Lucas—James—Reibeck! Stop running from me!"

# But he was already gone.

# 

# CHAPTER FIVE

#

# The next four days dragged on for what felt like an eternity. I hadn't heard from Luke, and that was a downer considering he'd planned to meet me for a morning run twice that week.

# I'd dropped subtle hints to Uncle Charlie, but he never seemed to pick up on my little cues. The most he'd said was, "Trigger said he'll have to reschedule your training."

# I'd spent the week feeling like I hadn't had anyone to turn to. Matt was literally up to his lips with dedication to Hannah, and they'd spent every possible moment together. Between school, his part-time job, and his new girlfriend, I'd definitely taken the back burner on Matt's list of priorities.

# "Still feeling under the weather, I see," Derek said as he walked past the house with the dog leash in hand.

# I glanced up from the porch step and smiled, but both of us knew that there was very little truth behind my expression.

# "Care to join me?" he nodded at the sidewalk.

# "I'm not really in the mood to talk."

# "You don't have to say a word," he shrugged. "We can just walk a few blocks in silence, if that's what you'd prefer. I just know it's nice to have some friendly company from time to time."

# I smirked, nodded, and then slid off the steps.

# "Alright," he let the dog take the lead as I joined them on the walkway.

# We walked down the sidewalk, both of us bundled in our jackets, as the cool autumn breeze picked up and hit us full force with a leaf-filled gust of wind.

# I shivered under my jacket and looked down at the dog as he pranced along the sidewalk without a care in the world.

# "What's his name?" I asked, meeting Derek's blue eyes.

# "Elvis," he smiled down at the German shepherd. "He belonged to my mom. She passed away last year."

# "Oh," I pressed my lips together. "I'm sorry."

# We continued to walk for two more blocks without another sound. True to his word, Derek didn't speak unless spoken to. In some very strange way, the silence brought about a sense of peace, and his company kept my mind from wandering too close to Luke.

# "I'm sorry I'm not much of a conversationalist today," I said, looking down at my feet. "I've just had a lot on my mind."

# "I imagine," he acted as though he couldn't help but laugh. "I've noticed you've been a little down in the dumps ever since your 4:00 a.m. fight in the middle of the street on Monday."

# I sent him a questionable look, and he shrugged. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop," he said, and I believed him. "I was out in the yard with Elvis, and I heard some screaming a couple blocks down. When I realized it was you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

# I nodded, "I've gotten pretty good at taking care of myself."

# "Yeah," he tried not to smile, "you've got quite an arm on you there. He didn't stand a chance with that boulder you threw at him."

# I chuckled, "It was a tiny rock."

# "Right," he matched my smile. He shook his head as if amazed by something. "You're too cute, you know that?"

# I closed my eyes and let his compliment sink in. And I couldn't help but wonder how politeness and sincerity came so easily for him, yet Luke couldn't take one sober minute to say something half as nice.

# "Honestly, the guy's an idiot," he said as if he'd read my mind. "It's not hard to see the way you look at him, Julie. And he sees it, too; don't let yourself believe he doesn't."

# "It's complicated," I understood Luke's side more than I cared to admit. "There's an age gap, and I think that scares him, but not nearly as much as my Uncle Charlie does. I think he's afraid of how it would look."

# "And that's the kind of guy you want to be with?" he asked, but not the least bit hostile. It seemed as though he was truly trying to figure out what I saw in Luke. Sometimes, though I'd never admit it out loud, I wasn't even sure what I saw in him. "Do you really want to be with someone who's so concerned with upholding his reputation that he can't appreciate what's right in front of him?" Derek dropped his head and sighed. "And does he always talk to you like that, Julie? Like you're a child? Like he's entitled?"

# "He is entitled," I gave him a little credit. "In some respects, Luke's my boss."

# "He's your coach," Derek corrected me. "He's just signing off on your job-shadowing hours, right? He's not your superior."

# I shrugged.

# "You know the crazy thing?" I asked, though I was fairly certain Derek didn't really care much one way or the other. Luke seemed to have become a touchy subject. "I know he has feelings for me, but he refuses to confront those feelings, let alone admit them."

# "Then, I'll say it again. He's an idiot."

# Derek and I continued to walk, neither of us knowing what else to say.

# I appreciated how much he was trying to help, but his opinion was slightly biased. He'd only seen one side of Luke and only in small doses. He didn't know the honest, soft-spoken, kind-hearted Luke that I'd caught a glimpse of during our hours together.

# As we turned the corner of Linden and Main coming full circle in our walk around the neighborhood, I caught sight of Luke's patrol car sitting in the driveway, and Luke still resting behind the wheel. I tried to keep myself from sprinting toward him, especially out of politeness to Derek, but I picked up my pace as we got closer to the house.

# "Go on," Derek said, giving me permission. "Obviously he has something he needs to say."

# I smiled, said a quick thank you, and sprinted toward the cruiser. Luke was sitting back in the driver's seat with his eyes staring straight forward, and he didn't seem to notice for a second that I'd walked up to the window. I tapped on the glass, and he jumped from inside. He closed his eyes for a brief second and took a deep breath.

# He opened the door and let himself out, slamming it loudly behind him.

# "Dammit, Little," he said, grinding his teeth. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

# "Rule number one," I winked. "Always be on high alert, and I don't use the term always loosely, Officer Reibeck."

# A small grin twitched at the corner of his lips.

# "What brings you here?" I leaned against the side of his car.

# He watched as Derek and Elvis finally walked by. He watched them just as closely as they watched him, and it was like reliving the Hannah and Matt staring match all over again. "Doesn't it seem a little fishy that that guy's always around?"

# "He lives next door."

# "Still," he eyed Derek. He finally looked back at me and nodded up to the porch, "Can we sit?"

# "Sure," I said, taking the lead. I walked up the steps and took a seat on the ledge. Luke settled in next to me, but was extremely careful not to brush my body or make any unintentional contact. "What's on your mind?"

# "For one," he said, and I couldn't quite tell if he was joking, "I've decided not to arrest you for assaulting a police officer."

# "Har-har-har," I reminded myself just how hard I'd probably hit him with that rock, "you deserved it."

# A smile appeared, so I assumed that that must've been his attempt to break the ice, but it slowly faded as he looked up at me again.

# "You're a good kid, Julie," he said. "You're smart, and funny, and you've got a good head on your shoulders."

# "Thank you," I said, not liking his tone. I wasn't sure whether or not to take the compliment, or assume it was the beginning of something terrible. Something about the way his voice sounded made me wonder if there was something bad coming next; I could literally feel the rejection building in his speech.

# "I understand the feelings that you're experiencing," he continued, sounding a little more mature than he'd sounded in the days before. "We've all been there, you know? And especially at your age, it's only natural—"

# "Just stop," I said. And there it was—the rejection I'd been waiting for. "What you're saying is that you understand that I have feelings for you."

# "Yes."

# "And you can respect how I feel."

# "Yes."

# "But you also want me to understand that you don't reciprocate those feelings," I took a deep breath. "Right?"

# He nodded.

# "Julie, when it comes right down to it, I honestly think you misread whatever was said the other night."

# "Right," I rolled my eyes.

# "I want us to be able to continue our hours together," he said, and it was the first thing he'd said that I truly believed he meant. "You've done so well, and I don't want this argument to interfere with our work."

# I nodded, but only because I didn't know what else to do. How could he sit there and act like nothing had changed between us? How could he expect me to just accept his half-assed explanation?

# "Luke," I scratched the top of my head. At that point, I was just confused. I didn't know what to say, or what he wanted me to say. "I'm sorry that you feel that way."

# "It's okay, kid," he patted his legs and stood up as if he'd sensed some finality in our conversation. "It's good that we've cleared the air."

# "Except we haven't," I said, still sitting on the step. Maybe he was done, but I wasn't. I still didn't understand; I wanted something more than whatever that was that he'd just given me.

# "Yeah?" he turned back.

# "Do me a favor."

# "I can try—"

# "You can stop calling me kid," I bit back tears. "And while you're at it, you can stop treating me like one."

# Before he had time to respond, I got up and brushed past him, taking the steps down into the yard and over to Derek's house. I pounded on the door as Luke stood watching me from my porch. When Derek answered, I threw myself in his arms and sobbed against his shoulder, only validating once and for all that I was just as childish as Luke had been treating me. But he'd broken my heart, and I needed comfort. Derek pulled me over the threshold, shut the door, and took me in his arms once again.

# And then I cried some more.

# CHAPTER SIX

#

# "Shut up!" I pushed Derek off the sidewalk as we walked down Linden. "You—did—not!'

# "Honest to God," he raised his hand proudly. "I pointed my finger in his face and said Don't mess with me punk, I'm a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle."

# I was bent over at the waist, laughing hysterically for the hundredth time that day.

# "And then when I turned six, Mom finally sat me down and revealed the cold, hard truth about my true identity."

# "That you weren't really a crime-fighting turtle?"

# "Exactly." He nodded as if the childhood memory still haunted him, but the smirk on his face was clue enough that he was only telling his stories to keep my mind free and clear of Luke.

# "Thank you," I wrapped my jacket a little tighter, "but you don't have to keep fabricating these stories for my benefit."

# "Fabricating? Ha!" he struck a karate pose right there on the sidewalk. "My crime-fighting toddler years are as real as the ground we walk on, Julie Little."

# I smiled as he dropped his pose and continued to walk along my side.

# "So," he said, watching me coolly with a boyish smirk, "when are you going to let me ask you out again?"

# "Derek," I threw him a sideways glance. "You know I'm not—"

# "Right, right," he bit his lip and shrugged, "You can't blame a guy for trying; I should've known you'd need more time."

# "I'm okay," I said, and I think that's all he'd really wanted to hear. I was still fresh off of my argument with Luke, and Derek was much smarter than to think that I'd accept any kind of proposal—no matter how big or little, after everything that had happened the day before. "I'm just still a little shaken by everything. But I'll be fine. It was just a dumb crush."

# "Maybe," he said, "but maybe not." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pressed a quick kiss to the side of my head.

# As we continued to walk, his arm never left my body. It eventually moved from my shoulder to my waist, and he pulled me closer as we walked along the sidewalk in the cool, autumn breeze.

# I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder, remembering the day that Luke had taken me by the hand and led me through the woods to an open field. The way his touch burned my hand with a fiery sensation ignited a feeling deep inside of me, one that still coursed through my veins every time I saw his beautiful face. And then there was the sincerity in his beautiful brown eyes on Saturday when he softly wiped away the makeup that had stained my face.

# And though I struggled to admit it out loud, I missed Luke, even the grumpy, arrogant, stubborn Luke. Even the Luke who'd called me kid, and continuously treated me like one. Even the drunken Luke who'd professed his feelings for me.

# I didn't care which Luke I got anymore, because any Luke was better than no Luke.

# What I felt for him was unconditional. There was nothing he could say and nothing he could do to change the way my heart ached for him.

# With Derek's arm around me, and his shoulder beneath my head, all I could do was wish that when I opened my eyes, Luke would be there—and everything I'd experienced in the past twenty-four hours would all just be a dream.

# But when I opened my eyes, I was still walking with Derek.

# And in that moment, I knew for sure no one could ever live up to the way I cared for Luke.

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# "I'm heading out," Hannah said to her brother, brushing past me, but not before throwing an evil sneer in my direction.

# I sunk lower into the first cushion on their couch as Derek told his sister to be back by curfew, which on a school night was in exactly one hour.

# She rolled her eyes and walked out the door, slamming it hard enough to communicate her dislike for my friendship with Derek.

# "Alright," he sat on the opposite side of the couch and stared at his depressing DVD collection, "it looks like tonight's flick is either Ghostbusters, Ghostbusters, Ghostbusters, or... yep. Ghostbusters." He turned back, "Any suggestions?"

# "Oh gee," I teased, "and here I was hoping you'd have Ghostbusters."

# He smiled for a brief moment before getting up to start the DVD. I tucked my feet up under my legs and sank a little lower in the cushion. He returned to the other side of the couch, keeping a reasonable distance, but throwing me an occasional glance.

# Halfway through the flick, Derek suggested a popcorn break, so we paused the DVD to make our snack. Before we could retreat to the kitchen, he met my stare and scooted closer on the couch to take my hands.

# "Julie," he kept his voice low, though I couldn't imagine why. There wasn't another soul around to hear what he had to say. Still, he seemed serious, so I gave him my full attention. "There's something important that I need to tell you."

# "Okay," I looked at our cupped hands and back to him. "what's up?"

# "I want you to know that us moving here to Oakland had nothing to do with you," he swallowed hard. His palms began to sweat, and he closed his eyes to brace himself for my response.

# "Well, obviously," I squeezed his hands, "you didn't know me until you moved in."

# "And that's why we need to have this conversation," he said. "Because I did know you in some sense. But again," he said, looking as though he truly needed me to believe what he was saying, "I didn't move here because of you. Coming here was all Hannah's idea. I didn't know you were here until after the fact, until you stood out there on the driveway and told me who you were, but Hannah knew, and she wanted to see you."

# I stared at him open-mouthed, unsure of whether or not he was waiting on a response.

# He took a deep breath and let go of my hands. "I have a shoebox of things in my room that I think will help me explain this a little better. Do you mind if I...?"

# "No, go," I urged him to retrieve the box. If it'd help him communicate whatever it was he needed to say, I wanted him to have it.

# As I sat on the edge of the couch, I racked my brain for how I could've possibly known Derek and Hannah. I couldn't remember them from my past, but something about his eyes and her grin seemed far too familiar.

# A tap on the outside window interrupted my thoughts. I glanced up to see Luke standing in the shadows on the other side of the glass. Perched up on the ledge of the porch, he motioned for me to come closer. I shooed him away and turned back to my thoughts.

# He tapped on the window again, this time harder. I finally got up, went across the room, and opened the window.

# "Go away."

# "Listen to me, Julie," Luke said, hastily, "you need to get out of there. Now."

# "Go away, Luke. I'm done with this."

# "Dammit, Julie, listen to me."

# "I'm fine."

# "I just got back from the West Bridge PD," Luke said, irritated that I wouldn't hear him out. "They're Miltons. Derek and Hannah Milton."

# "Derek and Hannah Jones," I corrected him.

# "They changed their last name and left town after the trial to ward off the press. It's like they vanished off the map until now," he leaned closer to the window screen so I'd hear the enunciation of each syllable. "Derek and Hannah Milton. Son and daughter of Conan Milton—"

# "The man who murdered your parents," Derek said behind me, setting a shoebox down on the end of the couch. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, Julie."

# "Back up," Luke interrupted, pressing his finger against the screen.

# "Julie, please," Derek begged, stealing my attention from Luke, "I don't mean any harm. Hannah just wanted to see it for herself. She wanted to see that you'd really moved here to Oakland and started over. She's still having a lot of trouble coming to terms with what our father has done. She's struggling; she needed this. She needed closure."

# I backed against the window and faced Derek, and the realization of their likeness hit me full-force. His blue eyes—he had his father's same, round, ocean-blue eyes. And Hannah bore that same nasty smirk her father had worn in all the press photos and in the mug shot taken after the murders.

# The front door opened and Luke let himself in, taking an immediate stride across the room to put himself between me and Derek.

# "Derek," Luke put his hand out to keep him from taking another step closer, "I'm taking Julie with me, and you're going to stay right where you're at, and you won't ever come near her again."

# "Please," Derek said. He looked past Luke and leaned to the side to meet my stare. "Julie, I'm sorry. I know that words can never undo what my father did, but I want you to know how terribly sorry I am."

# I took a step out from behind Luke, putting my hand on his arm to let him know I was okay facing Derek on my own.

# "You've known," I started toward him, and my voice shook. "All of this time, you've known who I am, and you couldn't find just one second to tell me who you are?"

# "I wanted to, but—"

# "But what?" I asked. "Your father murdered my parents. He put a gun to their heads, put a bullet through their skulls, and you think telling me that you're sorry is going to make it better?" My eyes filled with tears as I watched Derek drop his arms. He stood defenseless, hurt and broken down. But no matter how defeated he seemed, it didn't change the fact that he'd blatantly lied to me. "His blood runs through your veins, Derek. His evil courses through your body, and you expect me to accept your apology? How do I know I can even trust you? How do I know you weren't planning on coming back in here and killing me yourself?"

# "You don't," he said, "but you have to trust me—"

# "I don't! I don't have to trust you!"

# "Julie," he begged, "I swear I never wanted to hurt you."

# "That makes one of us." Hannah's voice came from the back of the room. None of us had heard her come in, and when I turned to meet her stare, my heart fell to my stomach.

# Hannah stood in the doorframe between the kitchen and living room, her eyes never leaving mine. Her red hair was mussed and ratted. Her eyes were dark and sunken; she looked like hell. But as she took a step forward to command the room, she lifted a handgun in the air and pointed it directly at my face. Suddenly, that's all I could really concentrate on.

# CHAPTER SEVEN

#

# "Hannah, no!" Derek yelled, "Put the gun down."

# "Not until she's dead," Hannah said, eerily calm. "Not until I finish what Daddy started."

# "Hannah!" her brother said. "Don't talk like that."

# Luke pulled me back slowly, shielding my body with his. He took a step backward, lightly forcing me against the far wall and covering me completely from Hannah's aim.

# My body shivered behind his, and I could feel him gently pressing himself against me to assure me, as much as he could, that I was safe. He reached back and took my hand, squeezing my fingers for a brief moment before letting go.

# "Hannah," Luke stepped forward an inch.

# "Stay back," she yelled, waving the gun higher.

# "Hannah," Luke continued, and he was just as calm as she'd been when she walked in a few minutes earlier,"you don't want to do this, right? Put the gun down."

# "Listen to him," Derek pleaded with his sister.

# "Stop it!" she yelled at both of the men, taking a step to the side to get a better view of me. "You," she said, still aiming the gun, "step out here. I want to see your face when I kill you."

# "Hannah," Derek tried to reason with his sister, "she's an innocent girl. She's a victim, just like us. She had nothing to do with what happened."

# "She's his daughter," she said, tears streaming down her face. "I was born without my father because of what he did."

# "He was doing his job," Derek argued. "You know Dad was messed up, Hann—"

# "I had to live my entire life with my father behind bars," she said, meeting my stare. "So you're not a victim. You had your dad."

# "Hannah," I stepped out from behind Luke. He reached out to pull me back, but I stopped his hand. "This is my fight."

# "You hate your dad for not protecting your mother," Luke whispered. "I'm not going to let you hate me for not protecting you."

# "I'm okay," I said, and I turned back to her immediately.

# Even with the weapon still aimed in my direction, I was surprisingly composed. I saw the pain in her eyes, but pain didn't equate to violence. Part of me had trouble believing Hannah had it in her to harm another human being. But when I considered that Dad had thought the same thing about her father, I felt my heart sink a little.

# "Hannah, please put the gun down. We have much more in common than you might actually believe, and I really think it would do us some good to talk this out."

# "Talk this out? I don't want to talk this out with you," she said. "I want to kill you."

# "What good would that do?" I asked. "What problem would that solve? My dad arrested your father, your dad killed my parents, and now the playing field is level, okay? Both of our parents are at fault for what we've lost, so why carry this any further? You can't let your life be ruled by this, Hannah. You have to live your life in spite of tragedy."

# A tear slid down her face, and as she lowered the gun, I took a step forward to continue. "Your dad wouldn't want you to make the same mistakes he made."

# "Don't—tell—me—what—my—dad—would—want," she screamed, raising the gun again. "He'd want me to kill you."

# The room fell silent, and I felt Luke's hand grasp my wrist. He stepped behind me, and his body ran along the backside of mine: strong, firm, and completely unwavering. If he had lost his cool, there was no indication.

# "Jules," he whispered, almost so quietly that I didn't hear him, "when I say go, go. Get out of this house, and don't look back."

# "No," I cried, and my voice shook, "she'll shoot you."

# "What are you saying to her?" Hannah asked Luke, now pointing the gun at him.

# I felt him tap one finger on my back. Then two. When his third tap came, he yelled GO, and I ran for the door.

# Before my hand had time to grasp the knob, an explosion of gunfire stopped me dead in my tracks, followed by a loud thud as something shook the floor beneath my feet. My ears ached as the sound of a second shot enveloped the room.

# I turned to see Derek fighting his sister for the gun, both of them rolling on the floor. He pinned her on the ground and struggled to keep her finger from the trigger, but Hannah wasn't going down without a fight.

# She shot the gun again, this time the bullet zipping past Derek's head and embedding itself in the living room ceiling. I turned to yell for Luke to interfere, but he was no longer standing where I'd left him. I surveyed the room, but it was like he'd vanished into thin air.

# My eyes fell to the floor, and I suddenly felt my world start crashing down.

# Luke was lying on the carpet near the struggling siblings, unresponsive as blood spilled from his chest.

# "Luke!" I screamed, running to his side, no longer concerned about the fight happening between Derek and Hannah. I fell to my knees and took his face in my hands, tears falling from my eyes to his as I wept uncontrollably over his motionless body. "Luke, please. Oh, God, please Luke—"

# "Julie," Derek screamed, still fighting his sister. "Call 9-1-1."

# I left Luke long enough to run to the phone and dial the number; most of my screams were slurred, incomprehensible sentences, but I stressed that Officer Reibeck had been shot and was unresponsive. I gave the address, threw the phone, and fell back at his side.

# I held his head in my lap, weeping over his body and pressing down on the wound. Hannah's first bullet had been aimed to stop Luke from charging her, and it'd hit him in the chest just short of missing his heart.

# "Luke," I cried, watching his blood seep through my fingers as I applied more pressure to his chest. "Luke. Please, please don't leave me." Through jagged breaths and tears, I tried to find the strength to stay calm. "I love you, Luke. You can't leave me. I need you."

# The seconds ticked by, each one slower than the one before and just when I'd given up hope for any sign of life, Luke's eyelids flittered open and he looked at me through the half-open slits.

# "Jules," he whispered, but his voice was raspy and his breathing was jagged, "I'm sorry."

# "Luke," I said, still holding him, "stay awake. There's an ambulance on the way. They're going to be here any second to take you to the hospital. Just hang in there, okay? Please."

# "Jules," he said again, his voice weak as his consciousness faded, "I'm losing..."

# "Stay awake," I said again. "Just listen to me. Try to keep your eyes open."

# "Julie," he managed to lift his right arm. He cupped my face with his hand and squeezed as tight as he could, but his strength was simply gone. He whispered something again, but I couldn't make out his words. He closed his eyes, but his mouth still moved. I leaned closer to him, hoping to decipher his barely audible whispers. His eyes opened again, and I leaned in as close as I could.

# "Luke," I said, my tears falling onto his cheeks, "I love you, do you hear me? And if you die..."

# "I'm not going to die," he whispered. "I promise."

# He lifted his head far enough for his lips to brush mine. With tears streaming down my cheeks and across our lips, I reluctantly eased into his kiss. When I felt his strength slipping away, I tried to pull back, but he held me as close as he could and parted his lips, allowing for our kiss to deepen.

# When he couldn't find the strength to carry on, I pulled away from him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes again and managed a faint smile.

# The sound of crashing filled the air, and again it was the gun. But it hadn't been shot. Derek stood over his sister's unconscious body, wielding the handgun as tears filled his eyes.

# "Derek?" I watched Hannah's body for a few long beats, noticing only a slight movement in her chest.

# "I knocked her out," he said as if he couldn't believe what he'd done. "She's unconscious." He dropped the gun to the floor and rushed to my side.

# Luke turned his head away as his breathing became more and more shallow. The warmth of his breath subsided. The heavy movement in his chest desisted. But the blood kept pouring, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

# As I heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance, I ran my fingers through Luke's hair, crying over his still body.

# "Luke, please," I begged, "please don't leave me."

# Derek kneeled next to Luke, grabbing his wrist and feeling for a pulse. He leaned down and pressed his ear to Luke's bloody chest, and after a few faint seconds, looked back at me with tears welling in his eyes.

# "I'm so sorry, Julie," he said. "He's gone."

# 

# JUST A LITTLE SINCERITY

#

# "I was elected chairman of the dance committee," I watched the ground with a broken stare. "The Fall Ball is scheduled for next Saturday. I'll probably just go alone."

# I scooted forward in the grass with my legs crossed over one another, my knees gracing the engraved stone in front of me. I shook my head and absorbed the reality of the conversation, and it seemed far too morbid for comfort.

# "You know that feeling when you're driving down the road, and you arrive at your destination, but you can't remember for the life of you how you got there?" I slowly drew in a breath to fill my lungs with the frigid autumn air. "Obviously you found your way, you got there safely, but... the whole idea of how you actually arrived is a mystery even to you?"

# I leaned back to reposition myself, pressing my hands down on the dewy grass and clutching the wet blades between each finger. It was something so simple, something so easy to take for granted: the ability to touch... to feel... to make a connection. How quickly I'd learned not to ignore the magnitude of having something to hold.

# "That's how life has felt up to this point; just one case after another of highway hypnosis. Here I am, sitting right in front of you, making small talk about a stupid dance, but the how and why of it is still too hard to comprehend, so I just shut it out."

# I let my eyes wander for a few brief moments. The grave was small and decorated, nestled at the back corner edge of the cemetery just below the shade of a nearby oak tree. A rickety wooden fence separated the cemetery from the thick forest on the neighboring plot of land. Leaves cascaded from the giant oak as the wind picked up, and I watched each one as they descended to the ground.

# The air was frigid, and yet there I sat, freezing as I talked to no one who could actually hear me.

# "I'm sorry I haven't come to visit," I kept a firm grasp on the grass beside me. "I could lie and say I've been busy. Truth is I've been putting this off for as long as I possibly could."

# My cheeks burned as the wind gained momentum; it whistled as it taunted my golden locks and forced the orange leaves off the ground and into a free-flowing dance. It was beautiful. Even now, through all my emotions, I appreciated the beauty of nature's simplicity.

# "I'm sorry," I said for what felt like the hundredth time since I'd arrived at the cemetery. "I'm all over the place today. It's just that there are so many things I regret never saying to you," I watched the leaves follow the current back to the ground, and I took that moment to find my breath. "I don't really know where to start." I bit my lip to bite back a sob that lingered deep in my throat, but the emotion fought to overcome me. "I really hope you know how much I love you and how much I truly miss you."

# I closed my eyes, and the extra weight of my eyelids forced the pent-up tears down my cheeks.

# "Every day," I recognized the weakness in my voice as tears glossed over my eyes. "I wonder what our lives would've been like if you were still here. Would it be easier? Maybe," I said, but I wasn't fully convinced. Nothing had ever been easy. My life had always had its share of challenges, but somehow I knew better than to give up hope for change. It seemed as if no matter what I put forward, no matter how hard I tried, the problems kept on snowballing. "Maybe if you hadn't left me, I wouldn't be stuck in this place, this constant game of back and forth, wondering how I went from sitting on top of the world to losing everything I ever loved."

# Tears spilled over the rim of my eyes. I watched as my warm breath turned to fog with each jagged breath I let go. I wiped my tears with the backside of my glove and pulled my knees to my chest.

# "I don't know how the afterlife works," I said, still fighting to bite back the tears. "Maybe you can hear me now, maybe you can't. But if you're listening, you should know that I'm okay. I'm not great; I'm not even close to great. I'm just okay. And I only came here today because I wanted to tell you again, in case you're listening...that I haven't forgotten about you. I still miss you, and there's nothing I wouldn't give to be in your arms again, if only for a second."

# I rested my chin on my knees and hugged myself tighter. The tears felt like frozen drops of ice on my cheeks, but I couldn't bring myself to wipe them away.

# "I have somewhere I have to be now," I whispered. I rolled forward on my knees and knelt before the headstone, running my fingers across the engraved letters. "I love you," I whispered, pressing a kiss to the smooth granite. "I'll never forget what you did for me."

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# "What are you supposed to be?" I stared at my cousin with wide eyes.

# Matt's gray shirt and jeans were smeared with dirt, ripped and torn, and covered with dry blood. Bloodied scrapes, wounds, and scars—all made from wax and make-up, masked his typically flawless face.

# "The living dead," he opened his mouth to expose his dirt-stained teeth.

# "That's disgusting."

# "Why thank you, Your Highness," he mocked, bowing before me.

# I smoothed my lace gloves and adjusted my tiara before turning full circle to let the beautiful, white gown sweep the ground.

# The event was off to quite a start. Charlie had invited everyone in the neighborhood to his annual Halloween costume party. He'd supplied every kind of food and snack imaginable, karaoke entertainment on the front porch, outdoor games in the yard, and a bonfire at the back edge of the property. As always, Matt took his costume far too seriously. This year I was determined to strip him of his reigning title of Best Dressed.

# "Mock me if you must," I pursed my lips. "But you and I both know that you're just jealous that you could never be this breathtaking—"

# "Woo!" Detective Bruno walked between us to join my uncle near the roaring bonfire. "I think Miss Julie has spent one too many hours down at the station, Charlie. You hear the mouth on that girl? I haven't met someone with an ego that big since Trigger—"

# "Watch it," Luke stepped up to warm his hands. He flashed a coy smile in my direction, winked, and turned back to the fire.

# "I thought you couldn't make it," I said from across the fire pit, and I kept my voice calm as I watched the smoke climb higher.

# "Plans change," his eyes darted up to Detective Bruno. The two men stared at each other for a few long beats, sparking a few uncertain glances from the rest of the group. Bruno twisted his lips, and Luke simply shrugged. Still, their eyes remained fixed on each other's as the next few seconds crept by. It was hard to be certain, but judging by the look of things, it seemed as though something was going on between them. Something was definitely off.

# After Bruno broke the stare, he, Charlie, and Matt broke off from the group and headed for the house. With no one else in sight, I sprinted around the fire and threw my arms around Luke's neck. A heavy groan escaped from deep in his throat as his body tensed against mine.

# "Careful, kid—"

# "Right," I backed away. I let my eyes fall on his chest, but then I quickly looked back to him. "Did I hurt you?"

# "No," he winced and held his chest with one hand. A moment passed, and he dropped his arms to his side and shook them as if to let go of the pain. "Now," he said quietly. "Let's try that again."

# He turned to me, took me in his arms, and pulled me gently toward him. I closed my eyes as I rested against his shoulder, admiring the way it felt inside his embrace. His hug didn't last long, but just the gentle reminder that he hadn't forgotten me was all the reassurance I needed.

# As silent minutes passed, everyone started going about their evening and enjoying the party. Luke crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared off into the night after ending our hug. At that point, the vast majority of the crowd had already migrated to the front of the house to hear Detective Bruno's encore (and tone deaf) performance of Monster Mash, leaving me alone with Luke to listen to the crackle of the burning embers. Neither of us said much, but it was comforting all the same; Luke was standing next to me, alive and strong, and really, I couldn't ask for anything more.

# As the smoke wafted up and blanketed the dark autumn sky, I took in a deep breath and filled my lungs with the ashy smell of burnt hickory. Nighttime was finally upon us, bringing with it a sudden onset of cool air. Luke's arm fell gently across my shoulders as I stood near the fire, enjoying the warmth of the flames against my cheeks. He pulled me close to his side, encompassing my body with a flood of heat even the fire couldn't compete with. He lowered his head to mine and pressed his lips to my temple.

# "Brace yourself," he said with a bit of intrigue in his eyes.

# "For what?"

# "A compliment," he whispered, tickling my earlobe with the soft grace of his lips. "You look beautiful."

# I turned to meet his crooked smile.

# "How very unlike you," I prayed my cheeks weren't as red as they felt. I watched his brown eyes trace the features of my face, and then my gaze fell on his lips. "I've missed you."

# "You were just at the hospital yesterday, kid," he pressed another kiss to my head. He looked over his shoulder and back to me; it didn't take a detective to conclude that Luke was worried that our closeness might draw unwanted attention from the other partygoers.

# Since the night of the shooting, Luke and I hadn't shared many intimate moments. There was an occasional hug here and there, rarely a peck on the cheek, and then there was that unspoken agreement that neither of us would mention the kiss we shared as he fought for what we could only assume were his last breaths. Still, I'd remained by Luke's side through thick and thin, day and night, as much as I could without raising suspicion. Nothing could've stopped me from being right where I needed to be.

# Needless to say, Luke's openness tonight was odd. It wasn't like him, even this new and improved version of himself, to play his cards so far from the chest. He seemed a little vulnerable, a little comfortable, and a little normal for a change.

# "How was your first day out of the hospital?" I asked, letting my fingers brush against his.

# "Uneventful," he assured me. "I tried settling in at home, but I was too restless. So, I stopped by the station. I tried sneaking in the back, but not with much luck; Charlie wouldn't let me two steps in the door before throwing me out."

# "You know you're not allowed back on duty—"

# "I'm out of the hospital," he said, his scarred lip curving into a smile. "I'm good as new."

# "Not necessarily," I ran my thumb across his. "I thought you were gonna cry when I hugged you earlier."

# He scoffed and looked away, but it was clear even Luke knew he was pushing his recovery. Not wanting to get any closer to the possibility of discussing his vulnerabilities, Luke stood a little straighter and turned his gaze on me.

# "Charlie mentioned that you finally made it to the cemetery this morning," he squeezed my fingers. "Good for you, kid. You needed to take that time with your parents—"

# "I don't want to talk about it," I met his gaze. "It didn't go well."

# "It was your first visit since the burial," he said, holding tighter. "It gets easier with time."

# Footsteps rounded the corner, and Luke pulled away, putting a foot of distance between our bodies. I looked over my shoulder to find Derek coming closer, wearing a smile.

# "Wow, Julie," he took my hand and twirled me in a circle. "You're absolutely stunning."

# "Why, thank you, my prince," I curtsied.

# Derek's strawberry-blonde hair whipped in the wind. He adjusted his silver-rimmed glasses and smiled at me, leaving me flustered by his undeniable charm. His dark suit blended with the night sky, and it was clear that he hadn't had to work too hard to transform himself into the perfect Prince Charming. He wore his heroic costume like a pro.

# "Seriously?" Luke looked between us. He shook his head and scoffed. "You two dressed to match?"

# "FYI, Officer Reibeck," I turned back to Luke, "I know you got the message, but in case you forgot, this is a costume party. And Charlie is handing out prizes—one being for the best dressed couple. And since some people are too stubborn to participate, Derek willingly accepted my invitation to couple-up for the evening."

# "Of course he did," Luke muttered. The two of them stared at the other with mutual distaste. While they still hadn't found a way to get along, I wasn't about to let their dislike for one another interfere with the relationship I had with each of them. I owed them both so much.

# Three weeks earlier, after Luke had been whisked off to the hospital for immediate surgery, Derek, Hannah, and I were taken straight to the police station for questioning. Since Hannah was in no hurry to deny her position in the shooting, and mine and Derek's stories corroborated her involvement, the case was practically open and shut. I felt as though it was safe to say that my biggest reason for worry was securely behind bars, since she was being held without bond.

# While part of me wanted to hate Derek for the secrets he'd kept in the beginning—being the son of the man who'd murdered my parents—I couldn't, not after everything we'd been through. Derek stayed by my side through my darkest hours. He let his sister take the fall, never once considering her feelings over mine. He made me a priority.

# "I'm going to run up to the house and grab something to drink," Derek said. "Save me a dance later?"

# I smiled, "Definitely."

# He nodded at us and then turned back to the house.

# "Funny," Luke reached up to straighten my tiara. He looked up and let his eyes watch as my friend disappeared into the darkness. Letting his gaze fall back to me, a simple smile curved on his lips. "I'm surprised he actually came dressed to match."

# "Why wouldn't he?" I asked. "I asked him to, he agreed. I don't think he'd lie—"

# "No," Luke shook his head. "I assumed he'd come dressed as a frog."

# "And why is that?" I detected a hint of resentment in his voice. "Because he's slimy, green with jealousy because he knows I'm crazy about you? Or maybe because—"

# "Every frog wants to kiss their princess," Luke fought a smile.

# "Maybe you should've come as a frog."

# "Maybe," he whispered, and his nose was only inches away from brushing mine. "For what it's worth, Your Highness, I didn't know if I'd be out of the hospital in time to come tonight. I wanted to see you, but I wasn't about to make a promise I couldn't keep. In case you forgot, I was shot."

# "Oh, right," I rolled my eyes. "How silly of me to forget."

# A hint of a smile crossed his lips.

# He dropped his head a little lower and watched me with saddened eyes. "You're still not going to listen to me, then?" he asked. "After everything that's happened, you still trust him?"

# "Luke," I said, my voice fading into a whisper. I'd had the argument with Matt a hundred times already, so I was fully prepared to keep defending my friend at every chance I got. "You can't hate Derek for what happened. If you're going to be angry at someone, direct it at Hannah."

# "I'm not angry," he brushed a stray hair from my face. "Far from it, kid. I mean, getting hurt—taking a shot or two—I'm okay with all of that. It's a risk that comes with the job."

# "Being a policeman?"

# "No," he said, his nose finally brushing against mine. "Protecting someone you care about."

# And just as his lips were a moment away from mine, Luke's cell phone rang. He dropped his head, closed his eyes for a moment, and finally stepped back to pull the phone from his pocket.

# He stared at the screen in disbelief.

# "Bruno," he muttered, rolling his eyes. He looked up at the front yard to see Detective Bruno waving his phone in the air. Luke accepted the call and the two men simultaneously brought their phones to their ears.

# "What?" he asked with an edge in his voice. He listened to Bruno on the other end, all the while watching him from across the yard. He kept his head low and lips covered, so I couldn't interpret what the Detective was saying on the other end. And without another word to me or the other man on the line, Luke hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket.

# "I've gotta hit the road, Julie," he looked beyond my shoulder so as not to meet my stare. "Have fun tonight, and good luck with the contest."

# "Whoa, wait," I said, taking his arm as he started away. "What's going on? You just got here."

# "Duty calls—"

# "You're not on duty," I said, "and you won't be for the next month—"

# "Julie," he shook his arm free from my grasp, "good night."

# As he walked away, farther and farther from the fire, my heart fell from my chest.

# After all we'd been through, Luke was still running.

# 

# CHAPTER TWO

#

# "What in God's name do you think you're doing?" Matt ripped a frozen pizza from my hands and tossed it in the trash.

# "Matt," I whined. "I'm starving—"

# "Then I'll make you something to eat," he said. "You can't put that garbage in your body."

# "That garbage is what I lived off of for sixteen years before coming to this house," I said. "It hasn't killed me—"

# "Yet."

# I rolled my eyes and sank onto the barstool at the center island. I watched as Matt made his way through the kitchen, stopping at the refrigerator to retrieve a celery stalk and carrots before opening the cupboard for a simmering pan, two pots, and a handful of utensils.

# Much to the surprise of everyone who knew him, Matt jumped right back into his normal routine after the Oakland PD carted Hannah, his unofficial girlfriend, off to jail. I, more than anyone, expected him to go into shock, break down, and completely exclude himself. But he didn't; Matt only spent a day or two in the dumps. In no time at all, he'd picked himself up, brushed it all off, and moved on as though nothing had ever happened.

# "Just a heads up," Matt took a deep breath. "I'm not gonna be able to make it to school Friday night."

# "Matt, if you bail on me—"

# "Sorry, Julie," he said, dicing carrots. "I'm scheduled for a shift at the bistro. I can't call off."

# "Why did you sign up for the decorating committee if you knew you couldn't do it?" I asked, disappointed that he was the third person in a week to cancel. "Your bailing leaves me with only two helpers to assemble the Fall Ball—"

# "Sorry," he said again. "I wish there was something I could do, but my hands are tied. You'll figure it out; you always do. I'm sure someone will step up and volunteer."

# "Like who?"

# "Ask Derek."

# "I'm not asking Derek."

# "Why not?" he asked. "He's the perfect guy for the job. You say jump, he'll jump."

# "Don't be a jerk, Matt."

# "I'm not being a jerk, just stating the obvious." Matt tossed the diced vegetables into the pan. He watched in silence as they simmered, but he finally looked up to me long enough to shake his head. "Honestly, I still can't understand why you'd want to be friends with the guy. You remember what he did, don't you?"

# Remember? How could I forget? He risked his life against his own flesh and blood to put me out of harm's way. He leaned over Luke's lifeless body and did everything he could think to do to help him, despite the fact that we'd given up hope that he'd pull through. He did all the things an amazing friend would do, and I was eternally grateful, despite what Matt, Charlie, and Luke thought about him.

# I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the sigh of relief Derek let out when the doctors came into the waiting room to deliver news on Luke's surgery. He'd wrapped his arms around me, hugged me tight, and promised me that everything would be okay.

# "Yeah, Matt," I slid off the stool. "I remember perfectly well what Derek did. I'll never forget; he was there for me when I needed a shoulder. He was being a friend. He was doing your job."

# Without giving Matt a chance to defend himself, I stormed out of the kitchen. I walked through the house and out the front door, chancing the autumn breeze without a sweater or jacket. My bare arms tightened against the cool air as I walked to the house next door and rang the bell.

# "Hey," Derek opened the door wide enough to let me in. "Aren't you freezing?"

# "I'm okay," I said, my teeth chattering as I stepped inside and closed the door. He stepped back and pulled a quilt off the couch and wrapped it around my arms. He came in closer, draped his arms around my body, and held me for a few long seconds.

# "Better?" he rested his head on top of mine.

# I nodded.

# With obvious hesitation, he pulled away and headed for the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?"

# "Want to order a pizza?" I followed him across the room with the quilt draped over my shoulders like a cape. "I'm starving."

# "Matt confiscated the goods?"

# "Again," I threw myself back on the couch.

# Though I fought the urge to look, I let my eyes wander down to the floor. I fixed my eyes on the spot where Luke's body had fallen, lifeless and bloodied. It was in that exact spot that I held onto him, begging for him to stay, praying that I wouldn't lose him. And it was right there, right in that very place that I finally let myself accept that he was dying, that I may never hear his voice again.

# Though the carpet had been changed, the wound had been healed, and the shooter had been locked away, nothing could change the memory of what happened the night Hannah pulled the trigger.

# "You okay?" Derek sat down in the opposite chair and flipped through a thick phone book.

# "Fine," I said, eyeing him as he thumbed through the yellow pages. "What are you doing?"

# "Looking for the number."

# I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, held down the second button, and speed dialed Giovanni's Pizzeria. I tossed the phone to Derek and pulled the phonebook from his lap and set it aside.

# "Only you would have food on speed dial," he grinned, lifting the phone to his ear and smiling at me the whole time he placed the order. "Twenty minutes," he said when the call ended. "What do you want to do in the meantime?"

# I bit my lip and looked down at my feet.

# I'd spent weeks contemplating whether or not I'd ever bring it up again, but part of me yearned to put together the parts of the puzzle that were still a little hazy. In fact, he was just about to explain everything right before Hannah showed up and put a bullet in his plan. He'd offered to show it to me once before, to do whatever he could to help me understand.

# "You said you had a box...an explanation of some sort?" He nodded in confirmation. "I'd like to see it," I met his gaze again, "if it's still okay?"

# His eyes widened, but only for a moment. He drew his brows together, watched me with sad blue eyes, and then he finally nodded.

# "Yeah, absolutely," he whispered, but he still sat motionless in his chair. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to make a move, so I looked on and waited for him to find the courage he needed. A moment passed before he patted his knees, stood up, and headed to the bedroom at the back of the house. I got up and followed him, watching from the threshold as he pulled a blue shoebox from the top of his closet. He stared at the box—expressionless—for a few long seconds.

# "You don't have to worry," I stepped into the room.

# Derek turned back and managed a halfhearted smile. "I beg to differ."

# I reached forward and took the box from his hand. Taking a step back to find the corner of his bed, I sat down and started to open the lid.

# "Julie," Derek said, almost so quietly that I'd barely heard him. He took a spot on the mattress next to me and put his hand on top of mine. "Please remember that—"

# "You're not him," I squeezed his fingers. "Believe me, Derek. I know."

# With a deep breath and heavy heart, I pulled the lid off the box. I looked inside and sifted through the pile of pictures, newspaper clippings, and envelopes. I skimmed the articles that quoted my father on the night he busted up a drug ring and made the arrest against Derek's dad. I chose to pass on reading the familiar clippings that outlined the gory details of my parents' murder. The trial articles were nothing I hadn't read a million times, and the last thing I needed was to relive those memories all over again.

# But as I reached the bottom of the box, I pulled a faded picture off the pile and stared at it with great intensity.

# "I was three," Derek pointed to the young boy in the arms of Conan Milton. "And Dad," he took a deep breath. "Well, this might be the only picture we have together. He was pretty much absent... even in the early years."

# I nodded and lifted the picture higher to get a better view.

# "That's how I remember him," Derek continued, "always gone or strung out."

# "Is this your mom?" I asked, pointing to the vivacious blonde in the photo.

# Derek grinned, "Beautiful, huh?"

# I nodded and studied the familiar characteristics in her expression. Though Derek had his father's eyes, his traits seemed to strongly favor his mother's.

# "You look like her."

# And though the similarities were there, I had trouble believing that the woman was his mother. She looked nothing like how I'd pictured; I'd always imagined her as weak and frail, helpless against her husband. After all, I'd convinced myself that any woman who'd be dumb enough to marry a murderous psychopath couldn't be much of a winner herself.

# "She was amazing," Derek said, almost as if he'd just read my mind. "Julie, she was loving, kind, soft-spoken, but she never knew how to stand up for herself. She always found herself in bad situations, getting mixed up with the wrong kind of people."

# "Did she know... about your dad... the operation he was running?"

# "Not because he told her," he took the picture from my hands to study it for himself. "And not in the beginning. But his lies started piling up as the money rolled in. She wasn't stupid; she knew what was going on. But by then, I was five, and she was pregnant with Hannah."

# "Why'd she stay with him?"

# "She'd made a commitment, and she promised to see that commitment through to the end—no matter what."

# "That's... admirable."

# "Stupid," he said definitely. "I think the word you were looking for was stupid. She had a million opportunities to leave, to run as far and as fast as possible. But she never did. Her unconditional love for my father wasn't admirable, Julie. It was pathetic and selfish."

# He reached into the box and sifted through all the articles I'd chosen not to read. He dug through to the very bottom and pulled a piece of white stationery from the pile.

# "She left this note," he opened the note. "The night your parents were murdered... she knew what he was going to do, and she couldn't stop him. She knew he'd either kill himself or end up in prison until he took his last breath. She couldn't fathom living another day without him." He passed the note to me. "The police found it on the nightstand next to an empty pill bottle."

# Two words and nothing more: I'm sorry.

# "That's it?" I asked, watching him. He took the note and tucked it back inside the box. His eyes filled with tears at the memory of his mother's suicide, and I couldn't begin to find the right words. He took a few jagged breaths and worked to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, I took his hand and squeezed his fingers. All I could muster were whispered apologies. "I'm so sorry, Derek."

# And with one slow blink, the tears let loose and trickled down his cheek. I assumed that his heartbreak was nothing more than an effect of unveiling the memories of all the things he'd loved and lost, but the longer I held his hand, the more I felt as though there was something more behind his tears.

# "I keep going back to what you said that night," he said, and he used his free hand to wipe his face. He closed his eyes and dropped his head, and I simply held on tighter. "I keep hearing your voice on constant replay, and I can't shake it. His blood runs through your veins, Derek. His evil courses through your body."

# My heart felt heavy as he pulled his hand from mine. There was nothing I could say or do to take it back; I'd been hurt, and I was angry. I was caught up in the moment, and I said things that could never be unsaid. And I'd hurt him....

# "It haunts me every day," he said, and his voice was still heavy with remorse. "I know I can't change who I am. I can't change the circumstances, and I hate that I can't start over. I am who I am, and that's never going to change. I grew up knowing what kind of monster he was, and I never wanted to turn out like him."

# "And you didn't," I took his hand again. I thought he'd pull away, but he didn't; he took another jagged breath and let me hold his fingers beneath my own. "I should've never said those things, Derek. I was hurt and confused. I hated that I'd trusted you and that you hadn't given me the same respect. I was angry that you hadn't trusted me with the truth. But you have to know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you. I'd do anything to take it back—"

# "But you were right," he said, and his voice had never sounded so honest. "My dad murdered two innocent people, Julie. My mom killed herself, and Hannah is sitting in a jail cell awaiting trial for attempted murder. It is just like you said. It's in my blood."

# "What?"

# "Being a killer."

# "You're not," I turned into him. I lifted his chin, making sure he had no option but to meet my gaze. "That's not who you are."

# "I try to tell myself that," he took a deep breath. I could see the struggle written in his expression, the pain building in his eyes. He didn't believe that he was anything but a product of his raising. He didn't trust himself enough to believe the truth. "But every time I see you with Luke," he continued. "Every time I sense you thinking about him, part of me wishes he would've just died the night Hannah shot him."

# "Get rid of the box, Derek," I said quickly, trying not to let his last words rattle me. "You are not defined by the things your family has done. I know who you are, and this isn't you talking. That box... everything in it... it's holding you back. It's trash. You need to stop holding on to it. Let—it—go. You need to move on. We both do."

# "How can you be so sure, Julie?" he asked, and I could see that he truly needed an answer. "If I don't know, then how can you? How can you really know who I am?"

# "Listen to me," I held him tighter than I ever had. "I trust my instincts, Derek. And let me tell you something; I rarely see the good in people, and all I can see is the goodness in you. So if you can't trust yourself, then trust me. I know you're different. I believe in you."

# 

# CHAPTER THREE

#

# "You wanna tell me what that was all about the other night?" I threw a sideways glance in Luke's direction as he took long strides across the dark parking lot.

# "Meaning?" he suddenly walked faster.

# I ran up beside him to keep up with his quick pace. He was on a mission; he wore his serious, stern expression—one that told me he meant business. He kept his eyes fixed straight forward and didn't bother giving me the slightest indication that he was going to stop and hear me out. Even under the dark morning sky, Luke's emotions were easily discernible; he was annoyed to run into me.

# "The party. The bonfire. Our little exchange. Any of this ring a bell?" I asked, convinced I was probably just as annoyed with him as he was with me. "We were having a moment, and then you got that call from Bruno and took off without the slightest explanation."

# "We were having a moment?" he returned a glance from the corner of his eye.

# "Well, weren't we?" I took his arm and stopped him in his tracks. "Luke?"

# He turned to look at me and then dropped his head. "You've gotta stop doing this, Julie."

# "Doing what?"

# "Asking me to feel," he said. "Having irrational expectations—"

# "Irrational expectations?" I asked, remembering the way he'd held me, whispered in my ear, and pressed his warm lips to my cool skin. "Luke, you can't be serious—"

# "Julie—"

# "I'm not imagining things," I disputed his next argument before it fell off his lips. "I'm not asking you to feel anything. You already feel, you idiot. What I'm asking is that you stop running from me for one second and admit that I'm not out of my mind."

# "Not the time or place, Julie," he said, brushing by me to let himself through the doors of the Oakland Police Department.

# "This conversation is not over, Lucas Reibeck," I called after him once inside the building. He disappeared down the hallway without another word.

# I stood in the anteroom of the station and waited for him to come back, but he was long gone. Just as I started to turn out, my uncle stepped out of his office and raised his brow.

# "Hey," he took me under his arm and gave me a gentle hug. "What're you doing here so early? Something wrong?"

# I looked down to my watch. 6:00 a.m., right on the dot. It'd be easy for Charlie to assume something was wrong. I had no business getting out of bed and showing up there so early on a school day. But what could I say? I couldn't tell him the truth.

# My original plan had been to find Bruno and find out what was going on between him and Luke. Whatever it was, I had a feeling it had something to do with me. After the way he'd pulled Luke away the other night, I was determined to find out what was going on. But then running into Luke in the parking lot had thrown me off guard, and I assumed it might've been a better idea to just ask him directly. If I didn't get any answers, maybe then I could go to the source and learn more from the Detective. One step at a time, right?

# "You know, Uncle Charlie," I tried to think fast on my feet. "I'm the only person in the senior class who didn't get to finish my job-shadowing project. After the shooting and everything that happened with Officer Reibeck... I feel like I've been...robbed."

# Charlie raised his brow as if he didn't believe me for a second.

# "You feel robbed?" he asked with wide eyes. "Given the circumstances, the school excused you from the project. You're not obligated to finish the hours, kiddo. Besides, last I checked, you thought the class project was a huge waste of time."

# "I did at first," I said, knowing the best way to Charlie's heart. "And though I've been around it all my life, it was you who brought me to the station and introduced me to the criminal justice system. You teamed me up with Luke, who showed me firsthand what it means to be a police officer. But I was just getting my feet wet, Charlie. I loved every second I spent shadowing here at the station. And I still have seven hours to complete before I'm done. Like I said, I just feel... a little cheated, that's all. I want the same opportunity my classmates had. I want to finish the assignment."

# I hated lying to him, but if there was any chance that he'd give in and let me stay long enough to find Luke again, the seven extra hours of pain would be worth every second.

# Charlie's stern expression turned doughy. His cheeks flushed red with admiration as his smile stretched from one ear to the other.

# "You really feel that way?" he asked, trying to hide a flattered grin.

# "I really do," I wore my best fake smile. "So, what do you say? Luke's here now. I can skip school, follow him around for the rest of the day, knock out my hours, and be done with it."

# His smile quickly faded. "Trigger's here?"

# "That's what I said—"

# "Dammit! He did it again," Charlie mumbled. He looked over his shoulder and scanned the front of the building. "Where did he go?"

# I pointed in the direction of the break room. "I can go get 'im."

# "You stay right where you're at," he said, storming toward the dimly lit hallway at the back of the station. "Trigger!"

# As Charlie disappeared on his hunt for Luke, I kept my feet planted firmly in place. It wasn't until he'd been gone for a few minutes that I considered leaving, but then Detective Bruno stepped in and cast a sideways glance in my direction.

# "Ah, Miss Julie," he looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was up to. He took a sip from his coffee mug and raised his brows. "I see what you're doing, and it's not going to work. You're in way over your head, sweetheart."

# "I'm sorry?" I asked, crossing my arms at my chest. I stared straight forward and ignored him as I waited for Charlie or Luke to emerge from the hallway.

# "It's time to let go," he patted me on the back before turning away.

# "Let go?" I let my gaze follow him. "Let go of what?"

# "Trigger."

# I shook my head. "No way, Detective. Something is going on, and I'm going to find out what it is. You can't tell me I'm in denial one day, going on and on about the love that we share, and then turn around and tell me I'm in over my head. Make up your mind—"

# "I was wrong," he turned back. "There's nothing there. I misread the signs. There's no hope for you, sweetheart, and certainly no love. Not with Trigger, anyway."

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# "Looking good, Julie," Derek offered a hand to help me down from the ladder.

# I jumped down from the second step and looked around the high school gymnasium to study our progress. The orange, red, and yellow streamers didn't do much to lighten up the space, but the balloons, lights, and centerpieces would certainly help after the committee was done adding the final touches.

# I'd hoped to be much farther along in the decorating by now, but there was so much to do and so little time to do it all. Even with Derek at my side, I was quickly learning the importance of taking each step one at a time. Despite the fact that I was still learning the value of patience, I couldn't wait to see how the gym would look after it all came together.

# "Sorry I've wasted your Friday night," I clapped my hands together to pound away some dust. "The rest of the dance committee bailed when the forecaster started talking about isolated tornadoes."

# "Wasted?" Derek took my hand and pulled me over to sit next to him on the lowest riser. He dropped his head to one side and gave me that goofy grin of his. "Time spent with you is never wasted, Julie."

# I smiled, appreciating how easy Derek had made the past few days. It never failed; whenever I was hurt, needed a friend, or even a shoulder to cry on, he was there. He had this innate ability to brighten my spirits, make me laugh, and bring a smile to my face (no matter how beaten down I was). Call me crazy, but I almost felt as though we shared some kind of cosmic connection. I always felt as though Derek was perfectly in-tune to everything going on in my life. And when there was pain, he had an unbelievable way of making it go away.

# "I brought something," he reached back and pulled a basket off the raised seat. "I figured we'd be here pretty late, and I wanted to make sure you had sustenance."

# "You brought a picnic?" I asked, trying to disguise the flattery in my voice and my suddenly red cheeks. "You didn't have to do that."

# "I didn't do anything fancy," he assured me. "Don't expect a Matthew-Little-quality meal."

# "Well, if you know me at all, you know the best way to my heart is—"

# "Pizza?" he asked, opening the basket to expose the two miniature boxes of carryout from Giovanni's Pizzeria.

# A grin pulled at my lips as the dim gymnasium lights flickered. Thunder rolled overhead, and the rain pelted against the doors as the storm grew stronger. Despite the eeriness of the moment, Derek hadn't lost his beautiful, heartfelt smile.

# "You're amazing," I said, dropping my head. "I can't believe you did this."

# "I guess I know my audience," Derek said, reaching into the basket to pull out the boxes. There was something about his last statement that was unbelievably sincere; it wasn't arrogant or bumptious. He seemed as if he were genuinely proud of himself for knowing me well enough to make me smile.

# "You most certainly do," I took a box from him, and I couldn't help but admire the sparkle in his pale eyes as he passed it over.

# As we sat on the bottom level of the risers, Derek and I ate our dinner in silence. I spent most of our meal break looking around the room, analyzing all the areas that still needed a little extra TLC. Derek, as far as I could tell, spent most of that time watching me.

# "You didn't have to do all of this," I finally broke the silence. "The pizza, the decorations, the company... it's all very nice. But you didn't have to—"

# "Ah, but I did," he said, and he added a reassuring nod. "Not to mention, I wanted to help. It's fun to watch you."

# "To watch me?"

# "You're so determined," he smiled now as if he was amused by the quality he'd just labeled me with. "I've never met a person who's so eager to get what they want."

# "You think I'm determined?" I asked, because as much as I admired Derek's opinion, I seriously doubted the validity of his observation. I'd never really thought of myself as a world class go-getter.

# "Take tonight, for example," he brushed some crumbs away from his jeans. "The wind is blowing at 70 miles an hour, the lightning and thunder sound like something you'd only hear in a scary movie, and yet you're still here, singlehandedly decorating the gym, so that your classmates can enjoy the Fall Ball tomorrow."

# I tried to smile, but something kept me from doing so. Maybe it was modesty, or maybe I just felt like Derek deserved more credit than he gave himself. "I wouldn't say singlehandedly—"

# "Julie," he said as if he wouldn't dare let me have a side in the debate.

# I gave up my position and shrugged one shoulder. But as I turned and reached for the bottle of water on the riser next to me, my phone buzzed and took me out of the moment.

# I picked it up, checked the screen, and scrunched my brow.

#

# One New Message

# Luke

#

# I opened the message and read the words: Storms are getting worse, Jules. You're not safe there. Stay put. I'm coming to get you.

# "Everything okay?" Derek asked, trying to pretend he hadn't read the message over my shoulder.

# "Yeah," I tossed the phone aside. "Luke says we're not safe. I'm afraid he thinks the storms are worse than they actually are—"

# "It's not the weather that scares him," Derek tried to contain a smirk. "He doesn't think you're safe because you're with me."

# He didn't seem at all threatened by Luke's suspicions, but it was hard to tell if he was or not; I wouldn't have been surprised if he was only masking a sullen face, so I wouldn't feel the need to sympathize.

# He turned to pick up the empty pizza boxes and tossed them back into the basket.

# "I guess we're calling it a night?"

# "Yeah, I guess," I cast a forlorn look around the gym.

# There was still a lot that needed to be done, and if it didn't get done in the next few hours... well, I had absolutely no idea, if or when, it would get done at all. It'd be a miracle if the school was ready once all the guests arrived for the Fall Ball tomorrow night.

# I watched my friend as he cleaned up the small mess we'd made over dinner. It was only then that I caught him mumbling to himself, and I immediately knew he was a lot more bothered than he'd let on in earlier minutes.

# "Hey," I leaned over to steal his gaze. He caught my eye, but he didn't hold my stare. "Luke's not a manipulative, dominant, control freak," I continued, but I didn't know if it mattered; Derek seemed to take no interest in hearing my defense. "He's just looking out for my best interest."

# "Right," he said, and his tone was suddenly sharp. "He's just looking out for your best interest, yet whenever you truly need him, he's nowhere to be found."

# "Ouch."

# "Sorry, Julie, but it's the truth, isn't it?" he asked, and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "He only cares to look out for you when it keeps you from me, or when it's convenient for him."

# "It's in his nature to be protective," I defended Luke yet again. But as each defense fell off my lips, I couldn't help but question why I'd even wasted my breath.

# Derek was right. Luke only cared to come around if he thought I was in some kind of danger. When it came right down to it, it seemed that all Luke ever wanted was to be my hero... and not even a hero I could call my own. True to his nature, his actions were self-serving. He'd get the chance to run in, save the day, and pat himself on the back for a job well done.

# And what would I get? Another exchange of awkward glances that would eventually lead to the same place they always led... nowhere. While he ran farther away, I'd keep chasing him. He knew he had his claws in me. He had some undeniable grasp on my heart. He knew I wouldn't let go no matter what he put me through.

# And sadly, I knew I wouldn't let go.

# "Derek," I hoped that I could prove something in that moment, not only to my friend, but to myself as well. I could have fun; I could be free and independent. I didn't need thoughts of Luke hovering over me, somehow influencing my decisions, even when he wasn't around. "I know it's last minute—and incredibly childish considering this is just a stupid high school thing—but would you like to come with me to the Fall Ball tomorrow? I mean, after all the hours and help you've put in, you deserve to enjoy it as much as anyone else."

# A faint smile crossed his lips, but he shook his head. "No."

# "No?" I asked, admittedly shocked. I hadn't braced myself for any answer besides yes. "Simple as that?"

# "Simple as that."

# "Why?"

# He sat the picnic basket on the floor and leaned forward to take my hands.

# "Because I like you, Julie," he said, and that only confused me more. "But you're in love with Luke. And as hard as it is to walk away, I think I'm smart enough to know when it's time to let go." He managed a smile, but I could tell it took a lot of strength to muster even that. "I'm not a cat, and you're not a mouse. I'm not going to keep chasing you. It's clear where your heart is, and I can't ask you to feel something you don't feel."

# "But—"

# "Love complicates everything," he said, as if I didn't know. "The thing is... I know why you're running from me; you're running after him."

# "Yeah," I whispered, knowing I couldn't deny that.

# "So," he continued, "if he's running from you, maybe you should stop and ask yourself what he's running after. Maybe you won't like what you learn. And you might just find that it's time for you to walk away too."

# "I don't want to walk away from him, Derek," I said, and I suddenly felt guilty for saying that to a man who'd just admitted he had feelings for me. It was probably the least sensitive thing I'd ever done, but the words had already rolled off my lips. I couldn't stop them.

# "Finding love is an amazing thing, Julie," he said, and he only held my hands tighter. "But sometimes... moving forward means letting go. It's time to say goodbye."

# "To Luke?" I asked as tears welled in my eyes.

# "Yeah," he nodded, adjusting his glasses. "And me." I watched him for a moment, completely unsure as to whether or not he was being serious. "I don't think—considering how I feel about you, and how you feel about him—we should continue being friends."

# And as his last few words echoed through the gym, a loud clap of thunder shook the school, knocking the lights out once and for all. The absence of electricity brought the gym into an immediate blanket of darkness. I couldn't see anything, not even the familiar glare from Derek's glasses.

# I sat still, waiting for the power to be restored, but nothing happened. Very few sounds filled the open space, but I could easily make out Derek as he rustled in the darkness.

# "You need to take some time to really think about your life, Julie. You've lost perspective," Derek said, and his voice only got farther away. Though I couldn't see him, I knew he was heading for the door; he was leaving me all alone. "Luke should be here soon. And while I don't want you to chance the storm alone, I can't walk you through this one myself. But I don't think you should be here when he arrives either. Get out while you still can, Julie. You're just going to end up hurt if you keep waiting on him."

# CHAPTER FOUR

#

# "Back off," a woman said, and her command was firm, but kind. "Give the poor girl some space."

# "Do you think she's dead?" a man asked, and his voice so loud that it sounded as though he was speaking directly in my ear.

# "She's not dead," the woman retorted. "Look, she's moving...."

# Though my head pounded as if I'd been beaten near to death, I managed to open my eyes. Three old faces stared down at me, and only then did it become apparent that I was looking up from a stranger's couch.

# I sat up quickly, but two gentle hands fell on my shoulders. The hands belonged to the female, sixty-something, graying woman, whose movements were smooth and purposeful. She had an elegant grace about her that was admirable, and I couldn't help but feel assured by her touch. As I glanced up at the two men behind her, I instantly recognized one and jumped to my feet.

# "Bruno!" I stumbled as I worked to throw my arms around him. "What's going on? Where are we?"

# Detective Bruno smothered me in his strong arms and held me close to his chest.

# "Lonnie heard you screaming from the street," he said, still holding me tight. "He looked out the window just as you hit the ground, sweetheart.

# "Hit the ground?" I asked, reaching up to feel the back of my head. My fingers brushed across a bump, and I winced at the simple touch of my own fingers across the protuberance. "I don't remember—"

# "You had a nasty fall, little one," the woman said. "A limb fell from the old oak and pinned you."

# "Down like a sack of potatoes," Lonnie added, clapping his hands together dramatically.

# The room was dark, only lit by the few candles strewn about on tables throughout the house. After five minutes beneath his comforting hug, Detective Bruno loosened his grip and guided me back to the couch.

# "The cell towers are down," he said, and his expression grew stern. "No one can get calls in or out right now. The power's been out for a few hours, and Main Street is flooded; we can't get across town. Last I spoke to Charlie, he'd picked Matt up from the restaurant. They were heading home to take cover."

# "Are they safe?"

# "They should've made it home in plenty of time," he assured me. "The wind was bad, though. We lost contact." I nodded as Bruno knelt down to meet my stare. "Why in the world were you out in that, Julie? You were supposed to be at the school. Charlie had sent...." He looked over his shoulder and then back to me. "Someone was supposed to pick you up."

# "I didn't wanna wait," I said, feeling defensive. "Derek left, and I thought I could make it on my own."

# "Well, look how that turned out," his tone sounded far too much like Luke's. And then the simple thought of Luke made my heart slam against my chest. Had he made it to the school to get me? Why hadn't I called him? I should've told him I was leaving. Was he looking for me? Was he safe?

# "What about—"

# "No word from him," Detective Bruno said as if he knew exactly what I'd been thinking, "but I'm sure he's fine."

# "Do you want a snack or anything, kiddo?" Lonnie asked, leaning over Bruno's shoulders. "We're all stocked up on goodies."

# "No thanks," I said, still looking at the Detective. "I need to get home. Charlie'll be worried sick."

# "You're not going anywhere," the woman took a step forward. "Didn't you hear? The streets are flooded. There's no power. It's pitch dark. It's not safe for you out there, darling."

# "You can sleep upstairs," Bruno said. "Grace will show you to your room."

# "Where are you going?" I took his wrist as he started to stand. "You're not going to stay with me?"

# "I'll be on the couch," he said. "I won't be far."

# "Are you sure," I started, but leaned closer to whisper so only he could hear me, "are you sure we're safe with these people? They're kind of...." I looked back to Lonnie and Grace, and they both stared down at me with goofy smiles beaming from one ear to the next, "strange."

# Bruno glanced behind his shoulder and winked at the woman.

# "Grace is my sister," he turned back to me, "and Lonnie is the poor schmuck she talked into marrying her."

# I smiled up at Grace and Lonnie, but I'm certain that they read through the insincerity. It wasn't that I was ungrateful, but history had taught me to be a little skeptical of anyone who was so willing to lend a helping hand for nothing in return.

# "It's just one night," Bruno assured me. "We'll get you home tomorrow."

# Five minutes later—after listening to Lonnie relive an animated and exaggerated version of my fall—I followed Grace up the dark staircase. Her nightgown swept each step as we climbed to the second floor, and I watched closely so as not to step on the back and trip her.

# "Watch your step here," Grace pointed to the final step. "It's creaky. I've been waiting on it to fall through for years, but it hasn't given out yet. You never know though."

# "Have you lived here a long time?" I followed her to the first door on the right.

# "Only five years," she turned back. "It was Lonnie's house before we were married."

# "Ah, newlyweds?" I asked, cherishing the idea that new love could blossom at any given age.

# "We were married five summers ago," she said. "We didn't have a big ceremony, just something small and comfortable. It was a second marriage for each of us, so we didn't see the point in all the frills and thrills."

# "That's sweet," I stepped in the room as she opened the door.

# "You can sleep here for the night," she said. "I know it's not a five-star hotel, but the bed's comfortable, and the sheets are clean."

# "It's perfect," I said, letting my eyes wander across the dark space. "Thank you."

# She set an extra candle on the dresser and turned to go, leaving me alone in the cold bedroom. I made my way over to the window and looked outside, hoping to get a better idea of where I was, but nothing was easily discernible in the dark.

# "Knock, knock," Lonnie stuck his head in the room, "brought you some clothes."

# "Thanks," I said, coming over to take the folded men's pajamas from him.

# "I took a wild guess that one of Grace's nightgowns would probably swallow you whole," he smiled again. "These are just some old things that used to belong to my...." He trailed off for a moment before shaking his head. "Well, anyway, I hope you can get some use out of 'em."

# "Thanks again," I said, lifting the clothes a little higher. "For everything, really. You didn't have to take me in like this; I can imagine it's unnerving having a stranger sleep in your home."

# "Any friend of Bruno's is a friend of ours," Lonnie said. "Besides, I can't remember the last time someone slept in that bed. It's a comforting thought knowing there's a grateful soul just down the hall."

# I nodded and smiled.

# "I'll let you get dressed," he said, turning away. "Sleep well."

# After Lonnie left—closing the door behind him—I slipped out of my damp, dirty clothes and into the long, flannel pajama pants and tee-shirt.

# I pulled the blankets back on the bed and climbed in, remembering nothing before I fell into a dreamless sleep.

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# The morning sunlight shone through the curtains. I turned over, my back to the window, and hoped to fall back asleep. When the light continued to pierce my eyes and became too unbearable to ignore, I opened my eyes and shot up at the sight of another person in the room.

# "What are you doing here?" I asked, and I couldn't mask my shock for even a moment.

# Luke sat in a corner chair on the other side of the room. He didn't smile; he didn't wear anything that even closely resembled a happy expression. He sat still: his lips pursed, his eyes glaring, and his stare unwavering.

# "Luke, what are you doing here?"

# "What part of I'll be right there to get you got lost in translation?" he asked, and I could hear the anger in his voice. "What the hell is wrong with you, Julie? Grace said they found you pinned between the sidewalk and a tree branch."

# "I don't remember that part—"

# "Do you remember the message I sent you?"

# "Yes, but—"

# "Do you remember leaving the school when I specifically told you not to?"

# "Yes, but Luke—"

# "But nothing, Julie." His words were sharp and cold. "I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you blatantly ignoring me when I give you an order. I know you don't like to think so, but I do know what's best for you."

# "I know you like to think that," I mumbled, pulling the blankets up. "But look. I'm alive. I'm safe, sound, and well rested. In the end, it all worked out."

# "Well, isn't that just peachy?" he said, and his voice was laced thick with sarcasm. "Sweet little Julie spent a night in a stranger's house, sleeping in a stranger's bed, wearing a stranger's clothes, and ignoring the advice of everyone who wanted to help her. God only knows what could've happened to you."

# "Detective Bruno said I could trust them."

# "So you can listen to him, but you can't listen to me?"

# "He cares about me—"

# "Dammit, Julie," he said, and he let go of a heavy sigh, "was this just one of your sick plans? You nearly got yourself killed, and for what? Just so, if you happened to pull through, I might run to your side and finally profess my undying love for you? Is that what you want? For me to admit that I care?"

# "No," I suddenly felt two inches tall. "I don't care if you tell me you hate me, Luke. It doesn't really matter anymore. All I'm saying is, your words don't always match your actions. How was I supposed to know you'd actually show up last night?"

# "Real nice, Julie," he rolled his eyes for what seemed like the tenth time. "Any excuse to make me the bad guy—"

# "What do you want me to say, Luke? I'm not wrong! You don't know the meaning of consistency! You never carry through! I can't spend my life trying to figure you out!"

# The door creaked open, and Detective Bruno stuck his head in the room.

# "Everything okay in here?" he asked, but then his glance fell on Luke. "Oh," he stood straighter. "When did you get in?"

# "A few minutes ago," Luke mumbled, not meeting Bruno's stare.

# "Sorry about the yelling," I looked between the two of them. "I didn't mean to disturb anyone—"

# "No sweat," Bruno winked at me. Then he turned back and glared at Luke with nothing but disappointment. The gaze lingered for what felt like years, and I suddenly got that same feeling I'd gotten the night Bruno called Luke at the costume party. What was going on between them?

# When the two men finally broke their stare, Bruno managed a smile. "Everyone is up and at 'em," he said. "Lights are back on, and breakfast is on the table. We just got ahold of Charlie. He and Matt are both safe and sound, but you should probably get dressed. The roads are clear now. They're on their way over to get you."

# "Thanks," I threw the blankets off to slide out of the bed.

# "Heads up, Julie," he said, looking as if he didn't want to say what he was about to say. "He's pissed as hell that you left the school alone."

# Bruno left the room without another word. I turned back to Luke and shrugged.

# "So?"

# "What?" he asked, still bitter.

# "I need to change. You need to go."

# "Right," he stood up. He walked toward the door and stopped short as he reached for the handle. He didn't turn around, didn't look back, but rested his forehead on the door in front of him.

# "I'm glad you're safe, Julie," he said, and his voice was muffled against the wood. "If anything would've happened to you...."

# "I know," I figured that was as close to an apology as I would ever get from him.

# He pushed himself back and opened the door, but before he stepped out, he finally turned around to look at me.

# "I won't be here when you come down," he said, and his voice had lost every bit of its anger and sarcasm. His words were soft and heartfelt, and I assumed it took everything he had in him to muster up that much kindness. "Get home safe, and don't let Charlie give you too much crap."

# "You're leaving?"

# "I can't stay," he threw a quick glance over his shoulder. "Lonnie and I don't necessarily see eye-to-eye. Grace let me in this morning, but he doesn't know I'm here. It's probably best if we keep it that way." He rubbed his thumb across the scar on his lip before turning back to me. "Get home safe—"

# "Luke," I stepped a little closer to him.

# He dropped his shoulders as if he didn't want to waste another second of his time, but I felt like—given the fact that he'd calmed down for a few minutes—there was no better time to tell him how I'd been feeling.

# "You don't have to respond to this," I said. "Just know that... I do understand that I'm not a cat, and that you're not a mouse," I began to recycle Derek's speech. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop chasing you. I love you, Luke. And when you love someone the way I love you, you don't give up." I let go of a deep breath and took another step forward. "I left the school last night because I let an idiot make me believe that you didn't care for me. I let Derek convince me that you were never going to come. Up until about five seconds ago, I might've believed him. But I know you care, despite it all."

# I couldn't help but think about how much I'd chased Luke, and it was even easier to remember all the times he'd run from me. He seemed far too determined to fight whatever it was that he was feeling, but that didn't mean he didn't deserve the truth.

# "I don't know what you're running from, Luke," I continued, "but I'm here to help you. And if you don't want my help, that's okay. I'll wait. I'll keep waiting... until you tell me to stop."

# He closed his eyes, and I watched as he struggled to find a response. He opened his mouth a few times, but only closed it again after he couldn't find the words.

# "Jules, I...."

# "One word," I said, holding up a finger that he couldn't see; he still hadn't opened his eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"

# "No," he whispered, but it was so quiet I barely heard it.

# "Then I'll wait," I stepped closer again, "until you're ready."

# Luke's eyes finally flittered opened, and he watched me for a few faint moments. Without a word, he took a step back into the room, opened his arms, and pulled me to his chest. He wrapped me in the warmth of his hug, holding me as tightly as he possibly could without snapping me into a hundred tiny pieces.

# I closed my eyes and savored every moment our bodies spent touching, and I took in every ounce of Luke's scent in those moments that were wrapped in our hug.

# Luke rested his head on top of mine and pressed a kiss to my messy hair.

# And just when I thought I heard him begin to say something, the creak at the top of the steps sounded, and I suddenly sensed that we were no longer alone. I opened my eyes and smiled at a red-faced Lonnie.

# "Good morning," I reluctantly pulled away from Luke's hug.

# "Julie," Lonnie tore his eyes away from Luke long enough to smile at me, "Charlie's here."

# I nodded. "Thanks, I'll get dressed and be right down."

# "Don't bother," he said. "You can take the clothes. We don't need 'em here."

# "Are you sure?" I asked, looking down at the pajamas he'd given me the night before. "It won't take but a minute."

# "They belonged to my son, sweetheart," he threw a glance back at Luke. "He's dead to me. Keep 'em."

# Lonnie disappeared back down the steps. I turned back to Luke and waited for a response, but he stood still, staring expressionlessly at the floor.

# "Luke?" I tried to steal his gaze. "Luke, is Lonnie your—"

# "Yes," he said, finally meeting my stare, "Lonnie's my dad," he said, and then his eyes wandered the room. "This is my old bedroom, and those..." He brushed my hair behind my shoulder and smoothed a wrinkle on the shirt, "those used to be my clothes." He tried to mask his hurt with a failed attempt at a smile. "Now I guess they're yours."

# "Luke," I lifted his chin. "Do you want to talk about this?"

# "No," he said, standing tall. His demeanor changed completely with his posture. His red eyes were the only indication left that he'd had a momentary lapse into normalcy. He was back to his fake, forced smile and unnecessarily distant attitude. "Don't keep Charlie waiting."

# And with that, he was gone.

# 

# CHAPTER FIVE

#

# "I heard that, Carrie," I said, and my voice carried across the gym. "This room echoes like no other, so please watch the name calling."

# I could only imagine that Carrie rolled her eyes (along with every other member of the dance committee). All morning they'd been whispering behind my back, gossiping, and complaining. I got the message; they didn't want to be there. None of us did. But the decorations were still incomplete, and there were only four hours before the Fall Ball was set to kick off.

# "Julie," Kara Bennington, the junior class introvert—and Matt's date to the dance—tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and smiled, ready to help her however I could. "I have an appointment to have my hair done in twenty minutes, and I was wondering if I could—"

# "Go," I urged her toward the door. "You've done great today. Thank you for everything."

# "Thank you," she smiled. "I'll get back to help as soon as I can."

# "Don't worry about it," I said. "Just get your hair done, go home, and get ready for the dance. I'll see you tonight." I turned to the rest of the committee. "All of you," I dropped my shoulders. "Just go home and get ready. There's no sense in all of us being here. I'll take care of the rest. Have a good afternoon, and come back ready to party."

# My classmates couldn't have cheered louder or moved toward the exit any faster.

# After they were gone, I spent the better part of the next hour putting the centerpieces in place. The faux-crystal bowls were filled with water; some bowls were filled with orange liquid, some red, and some yellow. A white leaf-shaped candle floated in each one.

# "Is there anything I can do to help?"

# I turned to find Derek standing at the door on the far side of the gymnasium.

# "Nope," I turned back to adjust the final centerpiece. "I think I've got it under control, thanks."

# "Okay," he took a few reluctant steps in my direction. "Then... do you have a minute to talk?"

# "I really don't, Derek," I said, biting back my frustration. "I'm almost done here, and then I'm pressed to make an appointment at the salon."

# "I won't take much of your time," he said. "I just need a minute."

# I pursed my lips and gnawed on the inside of my cheek, "Okay."

# Derek pulled two chairs from under the table. "Have a seat—"

# "I'll stand," I had no intention of giving him more than the one minute I'd promised.

# "I'm sorry," he said, his blue eyes filling with tears. "I should've never said those things to you, Julie." He took a step closer and reached for my hand, but I kept it at my side. "I took some time this morning, and I really thought about what I'd said... and here's what I came up with." He took a deep breath, adjusted his glasses, and swallowed hard. "I care about you, Julie. And because I care about you, I hate to see you hurting the way you do because of Luke. He toys with you, he uses you, and he keeps you hanging on to his every word. I know it may be hard to believe, but I don't resent him because you have him on a pedestal. If he's the one you want, great. I only want you to be happy. But my problem with Luke comes from the very fact that he takes you for granted. He should worship the ground you walk on, Julie."

# "I don't want him to fall at my feet," I said. "I've never wanted that. I just want him here."

# "I get that," he said. "I know you're holding on to hope, so I'm going to respect that. Friends support friends.... I don't want to lose what we have, Julie. I was wrong last night; that was my anger talking."

# "You haven't lost my friendship, Derek," I said, finally meeting his stare. "It would take a lot more than a sharp tongue to make me angry enough to write you off."

# A faint smile crossed his lips. "Friends, then?"

# "To the very end, baby."

# ♥♥♥

#

# I took one final look in the mirror. With only ten minutes to go before I'd have to be out the door and on the road, I took a step back and assessed the final ensemble. My gown was burnt orange, strapless, and flowed freely to the floor. My gloves, shoes, evening bag, and shawl were a dark shade of brown—the color of Luke's deep, dark, beautiful eyes.

# The doorbell rang, and I checked the clock above my door. Charlie was home, Matt was down the hall putting the final touches on his outfit, and no one was expecting company. Derek had refused my offer to tag along tonight, so there was no chance it was my date—I didn't have one. The only thing I could imagine was that Charlie's takeout had come earlier than expected; if that was the case, he was busted for ordering junk food, and Matt would be engaging in a nice little lecture with his father about the importance of healthy eating.

# I left my room and moved toward the front steps, stopping dead on the landing when I heard Charlie greet the visitor.

# "Hey, Trigger," he said. "Lookin' dapper, kid. Come on in."

# "Chief," Luke replied, and his tone was nothing but formal.

# "What's going on?" Charlie asked. "Everything okay?"

# "Yes sir," Luke said. "I only dropped by because I need to steal a minute of your time."

# "Well, come on in," Charlie said, his voice moving farther away. "The kids are upstairs getting ready for the dance. I just ordered some Chinese—don't tell Matt— so you're more than welcome to stick around for dinner."

# The men moved through the house, and from what I could tell were now in the kitchen. I shot across the upstairs hallway as quietly as I could, stopping short on the landing at the back stairway. I tiptoed down the first three steps and took a seat on the fourth, just out of sight, but in perfect earshot.

# "Are you sure?" Charlie asked. "I ordered more than enough."

# I was glad to hear that all I'd missed was Luke declining a dinner invitation.

# "Thanks, but I can't stay long. I just stopped by to have a quick heart-to-heart."

# Silence lingered on the floor below.

# "Well?" Charlie asked after a few long beats. "What can I do for you?"

# "Can we sit?" Luke asked. For the first time since Charlie let him in, I sensed a bit of nervousness in his voice.

# "You're serious," Charlie observed. "Yeah, go ahead. Have a seat."

# I leaned closer, hoping to hear a little better.

# "I came here tonight to talk to you about Julie," Luke said, barely masking the sound of the chair sliding out from under the table.

# "Julie?" Charlie asked, but his question wasn't followed by a chair. I could only assume he remained standing. "Why? What'd she do?"

# "Nothing, sir," Luke said. "I came because I believe there are some things you should know."

# "Bad things?"

# "That's debatable..."

# "Well?" Charlie asked, and I could hear the agitation in his voice.

# He wanted Luke to be upfront and direct; quite frankly, so did I. What could he possibly have come to tell my uncle that he didn't already know? I'd never lied about anything. I'd never kept anything from him. If Luke had some reason to rat me out for something I couldn't even figure out, I thought it was incredibly petty of him to do it right before I was about to leave for the Fall Ball. Charlie had only given me a little leniency with the whole leaving the school and nearly dying stunt I pulled last night. I didn't need any more heat from him; I was already on thin ice.

# "When you brought Julie to the station a couple of months back, you didn't force her on me," Luke brought my attention back to the room below. "You asked me if I'd consider taking her on patrol, and I respected you for taking my feelings into consideration."

# "I do my best to keep everyone happy."

# "Which is why I feel like I owe you the same, sir," Luke said, but then he paused. "I was amused by Julie the moment I met her. Granted, I thought she was way out of her league. She was outspoken, feisty, and a little too immature to get any kind of take-away from the project. Still, something about her intrigued me."

# "Julie's a good kid," Charlie said, and that brought a smile to my face. "She's just been through a lot—"

# "And I failed to recognize that right away," Luke admitted. "But as I got to know her...things started to change. I saw her for who she really was. But I'm afraid my admiration for her character started to show through, and I felt guilty about that. She ended up developing somewhat of a little crush on me."

# "Didn't check your ego at the door, did you?" Charlie teased, but I didn't think Luke's statement had much to do with his ego. He knew, as well as I did, that my feelings for him were anything but little.

# I imagined Luke smiling at Charlie's joke, but it was simply impossible to tell. I could've moved down another step or two, but not without the risk of being seen.

# "I overheard a conversation she had with Matt at the bistro shortly after she started the shadowing project," Luke continued. "She openly admitted to having feelings for me, but even she was still unsure as to what those feelings were."

# "Oh boy," Charlie mumbled, but Luke didn't give him time to say much else.

# "While she took the time to sort out her feelings, it would've been best for me to keep my distance. But I couldn't. Knowing she had interest intrigued me even more... because deep down, I may've felt something, too."

# Charlie's groan filled the room for the second time.

# "Time passed," Luke continued without prompting, "and the more time I spent with Julie, the more I wanted to see her again. And when Derek and Hannah moved to town, I knew something wasn't right. Hannah took to Matt too quickly, and Derek always kept Julie in eyeshot." He paused, and I heard him shift in his chair. "I'd promised you on day one that I'd take care of Julie, and that's just what I intended to do. So, I started making calls; I even visited a few cops down in West Bridge. And the moment I knew Julie was in danger, I busted my ass to get back here to Oakland and get her out of harm's way. I knew what I was walking into that night. I didn't even have time to prepare for it, but I didn't care. It wasn't the cop in me that cared about her safety. I legitimately cared that she walk away unharmed. I was ready to die for her, sir."

# "Luke," Charlie said, his voice low and stern, "don't make me regret the decision I made to put you in charge of my niece—"

# "When I took that bullet," Luke continued, ignoring Charlie's warning, "the only thing I could think about was Julie. And it killed me because all I could think was... if I die... someone else will end up with her. Some other guy would walk in, win her heart, and she'd forget I ever existed."

# "Luke—"

# "I should've died," he kept talking despite the fact that my uncle had tried to cut him off. "The doctors will tell you that; but it was the thought of losing her that kept me breathing. Julie was the only thing that kept me holding on."

# "Luke—"

# "I'm not here to make you regret your decision, sir," Luke said, still refusing to give Charlie a chance to speak. "I'm not here to make you uncomfortable or angry. I just respect you too damn much to lie to you. I'm crazy about your niece, Chief. And I came here tonight to ask you for your permission—"

# "Permission for what?" Charlie asked. "For crying out loud, Luke, she's a child."

# "She is," Luke agreed. "By age, Julie is a child. She's seventeen, I'm twenty-three. And I know that's a problem, but you know as well as anyone... Julie isn't a typical teenager."

# "What do you want with her, Luke?"

# "For tonight," he said, "I just want to take her to her dance."

# "No. I'm sorry, Luke," Charlie said. "The answer is no. There are a million other girls out there; go pick one of them. But not my Julie."

# "Sir—"

# "No," Charlie said again. "Julie is destined for a wonderful life, but it's not in this town. And it's not with you."

# Nothing but silence filled the air. When two long minutes passed without even the tiniest sound, I stood tall on the fourth step and slowly descended down the rest. I wore my best poker face, pretending to have no idea that Luke was there (let alone that I'd heard his entire conversation with Charlie).

# When I reached the kitchen, Luke was seated at the table, but Charlie was standing against the center island. Neither of the men looked at the other, but they both turned to me.

# "Hey," I let my eyes bounce from one man to the next. "What's going on?"

# Luke pulled himself up and stared at me, and his mouth hung ajar. He managed a simple smile and nodded, but then he bit his bottom lip as I turned in a full circle.

# "You guys like my dress?"

# "It's nice," Charlie said, his eyes darting to Luke.

# Luke returned the stare and then nodded once in my direction.

# "Yeah," Luke said, obviously worried that his response would inevitably upset one of us. "It's ... it's nice."

# I smiled at both of them before turning my full attention to Luke.

# "Look at you all dressed up," I walked over to straighten his brown tie. I let my hand fall gently on his chest as he watched me with a keen eye. "What's the occasion?"

# "Just another Saturday night," he cleared his throat. He let his stare linger on mine for a moment, but then he cast a sideways glance at Charlie. He gently took my wrist and lowered my hand from his tie. Taking a few steps to back away, Luke suddenly stood at the threshold that separated the kitchen from the front of the house. He looked past me and stared at Charlie without a single blink.

# "I'm going to hit the road now," Luke let go of a sigh. "Chief, I'm truly sorry we couldn't reach an understanding. I hope you'll find it in your heart to reconsider." He turned back to me. "Have a great night, Julie."

# As he disappeared to the foyer, Matt came down the staircase and joined us in the kitchen. Moments later, we heard the sound of the front door opening and then closing. Luke was gone as fast as he'd arrived.

# "You ready to go?" Matt asked, adjusting the cuffs on his jacket. "I have to pick Kara up in ten minutes."

# "Sure," I said, staring across the kitchen at my uncle (who still refused to make eye contact). He kept his arms crossed at his chest and his eyes fixed on the floor. "Good night, Charlie."

# "Night, Dad," Matt called as we walked out of the kitchen. As we reached the foyer, Matt took my arm and stopped me. "You okay?"

# "Yeah, why?" I tried to mask the range of emotions surging through me. I didn't know how to interpret everything that had just happened, and I knew the confusion was written all over my face.

# "I know you heard everything," Matt said, still holding onto my wrist. "I was right behind you on the stairs." He caressed my arm as if I were a wounded child. "You're holding up better than I—"

# "I'm fine," I pulled my hand away to smooth my glove. "Let's just go."

# CHAPTER SIX

#

# May I have this dance?

# It was a question I'd heard a thousand times that night. Every boy in the freshman, sophomore, and junior class had approached me with bright eyes and hopeful stares; the senior boys showed no interest. And while their offers were flattering, I couldn't imagine spending my evening in anyone's arms but Luke's (no matter how innocent it would've been).

# I somehow managed to wear a smile. The gymnasium had survived an incredible transformation. It had taken hours to turn something so bland into something spectacular, but we'd pulled it off; I was proud of what we'd accomplished.

# "May I have this dance?"

# I turned to decline yet another youngster, but I turned right into Luke's arms. I stared at him in disbelief, yet there he was. I couldn't even muster a surprised why are you here? I simply eased into his embrace, resting my head against his wounded chest. I closed my eyes as he led me into a mass of dancing couples. And there, in that moment, we shared the beginning of our first dance.

# I lifted my chin and held his gaze, but it took a few jagged breaths before I could find my voice. "Why...are you here?"

# "You don't have to understand," Luke rested his head on top of mine. "Just go with it."

# "But I want to understand."

# "Julie," he whispered, tucking a curl behind my ear and brushing my cheek with his thumb. "Not every action has to come with an explanation.

# "With you it does," I tried to fight a smirk. "If you don't explain, I may misinterpret. I may think we're having a moment, and then you'll accuse me of having irrational expectations."

# A small smile crossed his lips before he lowered his head to mine. Without a word, he pulled me closer, and we swayed quietly to the music, neither of us taking any notice of the couples nearby. It was a moment of complete serenity; I couldn't remember ever feeling so loved and protected.

# But then I was quickly reminded that every time I let Luke get this close, he bolted without explanation. I'd spend days trying to figure out why he was running. It was a game I just couldn't play anymore.

# "Is it safe to assume that as soon as the clock strikes midnight... you'll be on the run again?"

# "Don't assume."

# "Based on past experiences," I said, "that's what you do best. The moment we get close—"

# "Julie," he said. "Can't you just enjoy one night? No questions? No strings attached?"

# "No," I said, "not with you. You have too much of my heart, Luke... enough of it to break it, if you wanted to. And I want to know what's going on. Why are you here? Why did you tell Charlie all those things?"

# "What things?"

# "I heard every word you said to him back at the house," I said. "I was sitting in the stairway the entire time."

# Luke pulled back for a moment. I caught a brief glimpse of disappointment in his eyes, but it soon faded with a simple nod.

# "It's not polite to eavesdrop, Julie."

# "Yeah," I said, nearly whispering. "But I've had to develop a roundabout way of learning things about you. You're not exactly the least cryptic person I know."

# He pulled me closer to him again. We danced in silence for the remainder of the song, neither of us wanting to waste our time together. I'd convinced myself that one wrong move could end the night, and the last thing I wanted was to spend my evening chasing after him.

# A half-hour into the night, Luke hadn't said much else. He nodded, shrugged, smirked, and laughed at the appropriate times, but he simply listened while I carried on (story after story) about anything I could think to talk about. It was a rare opportunity to spend this kind of close, personal, one-on-one time with him, and I didn't want to squander a moment.

# With only one song to go before the evening came to a close, I snuggled in close to Luke, preparing myself for one last trip across the dance floor. I stared at him intently, watching as his brown eyes reflected the overhead lights. I traced his jaw line with my finger, admiring his incredible, God-given beauty. When I reached his mouth, my finger stopped short of the inch-long scar on his upper lip. He pulled his head, looking away from me, and tried to avoid meeting my stare. I turned his head back in my direction, but I no longer looked at his scar.

# "You're worried," Luke rested his forehead on mine. "Why?"

# "You," I took a deep breath to fill my lungs with his unnaturally fragrant scent.

# "What about me?"

# "What happened between you and Lonnie?" I asked, remembering the tension and animosity that had filled the room earlier that morning. "I know I only met him the one time, but he seemed like a pretty great guy."

# He grumbled and diverted his stare, so I continued.

# "It...makes me think that something pretty bad must've gone down to make him so... angry at you."

# "I didn't go to his wedding," Luke said as if that should've answered all of my questions. "He got remarried five years ago. I didn't go. End of story."

# I nodded, knowing Luke was only sharing what he felt was necessary.

# "Why didn't you go?" I asked. "Was it because of your mom?"

# "No," he bit his lip. "No, it wasn't. She would've wanted Lonnie to move on. She wouldn't have wanted us to sit around, dwelling, hurting, or crying over her loss. Of course, that's exactly what we did for months." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "But I, unlike Lonnie, knew that time healed all wounds."

# "Was it his choice of bride?" I asked, still trying to figure out what had caused the rift between father and son. "You don't like Grace?"

# "I love Grace," he said, and a gentle smile crossed his lips. "She's a godsend. You know she's Bruno's sister?"

# "Yeah," I said. "So, in a weird way, you and Bruno are family."

# "He's my step-uncle," Luke shook his head at the idea. "And sadly, he's the closest thing I have to family right now."

# I rested my head on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

# "You know," Luke's hand caressed my bare back, "Bruno's been pulling for us since the day you walked into the station, kid."

# "Maybe at first, but he's changed his mind since."

# "Yeah?"

# "He told me; earlier this week... I was at the station, and he said that I was in too far over my head. He said there was no hope for us, no love, no chance." I shuddered at the memory. "He told me to stop pursuing you. I... I didn't know what to think."

# "He was only doing what he thought I'd want him to do," Luke said. "He was the only person who knew about my feelings, Jules. When I was in the hospital, I asked him to help me. I didn't want to drag you into this life; you had your own problems, you didn't need mine, too. So, he agreed to help me keep my distance. And if he saw me slipping, he'd pull me away."

# The memory of the Halloween party flooded my mind. Bruno hadn't seemed too happy when Luke showed up at the bonfire. It was only when we were about to share a kiss that Luke's cell phone rang, a call from Detective Bruno, interrupting our moment.

# "What problems could you possibly have that you don't want me dragged into?" I kept my head low. "Does it have anything to do with why you keep running from me?"

# "I'm not running, Julie," Luke said, shaking his head. "I'm... sorting."

# "Sorting?"

# "My thoughts, my feelings, my intentions..." He took a deep breath and continued, "I thought we were heading in a good direction. I thought we were making some kind of progress, but I was afraid of slipping up. I wasn't ready for Charlie to know anything, not when I didn't know what was really going on. So, I did my best to keep you at a distance. But then I screwed up, and I've been so humiliated by that mistake that I can barely stand to face you."

# "Mistake?" I asked, meeting his gaze again. "What mistake?"

# "Julie," he laughed nervously. "I don't remember telling you that I loved you." His humiliation grew increasingly apparent in his expression. "I don't remember standing on your porch, holding you, and spilling my guts."

# "You don't believe it happened?"

# "I know it did," he said, "because I know... I know what alcohol can do to people, especially people in my family. And I should've known better than to think I was an exception to the rule. But please understand, I was never angry with you. I hated myself for slipping up. I never wanted you to hear those things like that—"

# "I'm not sorry you said what you said, Luke," I ran my fingers through the side of his hair.

# "But I'm sorry that it happened the way it did," he said. "It shouldn't have. You deserved so much more."

# "Luke," I said, "we all make mistakes. We all do things we shouldn't do, but that's part of life. It's okay."

# "It's not okay, Julie," he said, and his expression told me that he meant exactly what he'd said. "After Mom died, Lonnie started drinking. At first, it was a casual drink in the evening to hide the sorrow. But then the pain found its way to the surface, and one drink wasn't enough. So he'd drink another, then another, and then five or six more." Luke's eyes glossed over, but he managed to keep even a single tear from spilling out. "He'd do things—awful things—when he drank. Things...things that he wouldn't remember doing when he was sober."

# I ran my thumb across the scar above his lip. "Did he do this?"

# Luke didn't answer. He didn't say a word; he didn't nod, shrug, or change his expression. He simply took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to my head.

# "Under the influence," Luke said, "Reibeck men do stupid things."

# "You'd never hurt me, Luke," I still felt the tingle of his lips on my skin. "I know that."

# "I do, too," he said. "I'd never hurt you, Julie. Because after I made a fool of myself at the poker game, it's safe to say those days are behind me. You'll never see that side of me again. That's a promise."

# "Is that why you didn't go to the wedding?" I asked. "Because Lonnie hurt you, and you haven't forgiven him?"

# "In many ways, yes," he said. "I moved out after high school, struggled to make it through college on my own. And those weren't easy years. I spent every second of that time blaming my father for taking away my dignity; I had no sense of self-worth, Julie. None."

# "But you do now," I said, "and that's all that matters."

# "My life changed when I got out of the academy," he said. "Your Uncle Charlie gave me a job. He respected me, treated me with kindness, and honored my opinion. It was because of him that I finally got back on track again; I was finally focused for the first time in years. But I still carry a chip on my shoulder. I still resent my father for everything that happened."

# "So," I watched him closely. "Your father is angry because, after all the changes he's made—sobering up and getting his life together—you still haven't forgiven him?"

# "He's angry with me because he doesn't understand," Luke said. "He doesn't know why I left in such a hurry, why I never came home, or why I shut him out."

# "How can he not understand?" I asked. "He literally scarred you for life."

# "That's just the thing, Julie. He doesn't remember hurting me. I just walked away; I didn't feel like he deserved an explanation."

# "Do you regret that now?"

# "I do," he said, "but there's nothing I can say. I certainly can't call him up and say hey dad, sorry I've been an ass for five years, wanna grab a bite?"

# "Have you ever thought of telling him the truth?" I asked. "That always seems like a good place to start."

# "I've thought about it," he said. "But then I have to consider... who am I doing that for? Me or him? It's selfish. Telling him that he beat me to a pulp one night six years ago isn't going to do anything but hurt him."

# "So you'd let him go on hating you and never knowing the truth?"

# "He thinks he knows the truth," Luke said. "He thinks I resent Grace because she's not my mother, and that's okay. It's better that way."

# "Better for...?" I asked. "It's not better for you."

# "But it's better for him and Grace. They're happy, Julie."

# The song came to an end, but Luke didn't pull away. He rubbed his nose against mine and rested our heads together.

# "I need you to know how sorry I am," he said, just above a whisper. "For everything. You should've bailed a long time ago, but you didn't. I'll never understand why."

# "Because I loved you, Luke," I said, matching his whisper. "I loved you all along...I still do."

# He nodded, but he didn't return the sentiment.

# "I need to fix things with my father, Julie," he said. "I need to fix it without telling him the truth, and that's going to take time. We're a stubborn bunch; he's not going to forgive me easily. And that's why I've kept my distance, kid. I can't move on to the next stage of my life; I can't start something new until I've fixed the things that are broken."

# I swallowed hard and watched as his eyes softened. He didn't have to say anything else. He'd said it all with a simple stare. He needed my patience, my understanding, and some time. And because I loved him, I wanted nothing more than to give him everything he needed.

# "Take your time, Luke," I held him tighter. "I'm not going anywhere."

# "Promise?"

# "Cross my heart."

# 

# JUST A LITTLE PROMISE

#

# "I'm not a villain," Charlie grumbled, throwing his coffee mug into the sink a little too hard. He turned to my cousin for confirmation, "Right?"

# "Leave me outta this, Dad," Matt snapped the lid on a piece of Tupperware. He secured our leftovers in the refrigerator and turned back to the counter never once looking at me or Charlie.

# I sat at the table, pushing my asparagus around with the fork. Charlie, who'd cleaned his plate nearly fifteen minutes ago, was now leaning against the counter.

# "Julie," Charlie dropped his head, "I'm sorry, but the answer is no."

# "But—"

# "No," he said, refusing to hear my argument before I had time to make it.

# "Why?" I prompted him to give me an explanation though I already knew exactly why.

# He didn't think I was privy to the conversation he'd had with Luke last month, but because of my super ability to eavesdrop at any given moment, I knew all I needed to. And Charlie had been bending over backward to keep me from leaving the house alone. He wouldn't let me step foot near the police station. I was on an imaginary leash, and he refused to tell me why.

# If I hadn't heard the conversation with my own two ears, if I didn't know what Luke had admitted to my uncle, I'd be irate by Charlie's overbearing behavior. But in a way—a very little way—I found some humor in it. Charlie didn't want me within a one-mile radius of Luke, and he made sure he did everything could to keep us apart.

# "Because I said so, that's why."

# "It's coffee!" I yelled, throwing my arms in the air. "One cup of coffee with a friend—"

# "Who?" he asked, convinced he already knew the answer.

# "Does it matter?"

# "It does if you want to leave this house," he said. "Who?" I crossed my arms and slumped lower in the chair. "Is it a friend from school?"

# "Ugh! What's going on here?" I asked. "You've been keeping me under a microscope for weeks! You don't have to know every minute detail of what's going on in my life." I looked at my cousin. "Why don't you hound Matt every time he asks to go out?"

# "Because I trust Matt."

# "You don't trust me?" I straightened up. I threaded my fingers together and rested my elbows on the table. "Charlie, I've never given you a reason to think I can't be trusted. When I first moved here you let me do anything and everything I wanted to do, no questions asked. What's changed?"

# He knitted his eyebrows together. He knew I was right; I hadn't done anything—not once—to make him think I was untrustworthy. But the fear of me sneaking away to see Luke was more than he could swallow.

# "For one," he combed his fingers through his mustache, "you never used to keep secrets."

# "I'm not keeping secrets now."

# "Who are you having coffee with?"

# "Grace Reibeck," I said, seeing Matt perk up with sudden interest. He knew as well as I did that mentioning the name Reibeck meant I was walking on thin ice.

# "What business do you have with Grace?" Charlie folded his arms across his chest.

# "It's two-fold, really," I worked out my explanation just as I'd rehearsed it earlier in my room. "One, she and Lonnie own the only flower shop in town."

# "And that's important because...?"

# "I joined the Oakland Celebration Committee last month," I said. "After designing the Fall Ball, I realized I have a bit of a knack for party planning and party execution. With some time, a budget, and a place to work, I can come up with just about anything for any occasion."

# "Not following, Julie," Charlie said, "narrow your scope."

# "I wanted to get involved," I said. "You're always preaching about how important it is for kids to stay active in the community. Take your job-shadowing program, for instance. You wanted us to figure out what we wanted to do post-graduation. You wanted us to be proactive. Well, I'm being proactive. I found something I like to do. I'm sticking to my guns. The Fall Ball was great, but it was small potatoes compared to what I'm doing now."

# "Which is?"

# "Managing the Oakland Holiday Parade," I said, "which brings me back to Grace. She's going to cut me a deal on flowers for the floats. I need flowers, and lots of 'em. Grace is my go-to gal."

# "This isn't the Rose Bowl, for God's sake," he mumbled, burying his head in the palm of his hands. "What's the other reason?"

# "Hmm?"

# "You said you wanted to meet with Grace for two reasons," he said. "What's the other?"

# "Right!" I clapped my hands together once. "Glad you asked. She's the middle man between me and the Grand Marshal."

# "What's that now?" he asked so quickly that his words sounded like one long slur.

# "The Grand Marshal," I said, "the parade honoree, they ride through the line first, leading the rest of the floats along the route." Charlie's mouth hung open, so I elaborated. "The Grand Marshal is an outstanding member of the community that is deserving of an award or recognition of some kind—"

# "I know what the Grand Marshal is," he said. "I just don't know who it is."

# "Luke," I watched his face turn a dark shade of crimson.

# "Luke?"

# It was strange to hear his name cross Charlie's lips. I'd gotten so used to hearing him, Matt, and everyone else we knew call him Trigger. To hear Charlie refer to him by name... well, it told me just how quickly the dynamic of their relationship had changed. It was no longer rainbows and butterflies or beer and poker nights. Their friendship ceased to exist the night Luke opened his heart to my uncle.

# "He was nominated by the committee and voted into the position last week," I said. "I wanted to do a flashback kinda thing with his float: old pictures, mementos from his past, and really celebrate who he is. Grace is gonna try to dig some of that up for me. When it comes right down to it, we just want to give him the best float possible. After all, it is Luke."

# "Aren't they s'pose to just ride in on a car or something?" Charlie tried to keep his voice calm and unsuspecting. "Why a float?"

# "Change of management, Charlie. We're doing things different this year," I said. "Grace is my right-hand man, and she agrees it's time for change. And," I said, looking at my watch, "she'll be here any second to pick me up, so if you're not going to let me go... you'll have to tell her yourself. We've had these plans for weeks. She won't be happy if I cancel."

# Right on cue, the doorbell rang. We all knew it was Grace, but the real question was whether or not Charlie would let me walk out the door with her.

# "Julie," Charlie said as I jumped from my chair and sprinted for the door.

# I turned back and met his stare.

# "Yes?" I asked, long and drawn out.

# "Just you and Grace?" I nodded, and it seemed to ease his mind. "One hour. I want you back by sundown."

# "Great!" I wore a genuine smile. "I couldn't stay out long, anyway. Luke'll be here at eight to help me pull together the proposal for the parade route. See you in a bit."

# I turned on my heel just as Charlie said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Get back here."

# I stopped and turned back yet again.

# "Yes?" I asked, as melodramatically as before.

# "What did you just say?"

# "See you in a bit—"

# "Before that."

# "I couldn't stay out long anyway," I acted as though I didn't know what he was aiming for.

# "After that."

# "Oh," I nodded. "Derek will be here at eight to help pull together the route proposal."

# "You said Luke."

# "Did I?" I asked, looking innocently between Matt and Charlie. "Silly me. I meant Derek." I slapped myself on the forehead. "I guess with all this Grand Marshal business I've just had Luke on the brain 24/7."

# Charlie groaned as I turned out.

# I felt borderline-evil messing with Charlie, but I couldn't help it; I'd take any chance to see him squirm. I was tired of his new approach to parenting. I wanted off the leash. I planned to keep applying pressure. I'd make him squeal eventually. He was going to tell me why he was so hell-bent on keeping me away from Luke.

# CHAPTER TWO

#

# "Can I see the sketches you came up with?"

# Derek passed a small black folder across the bed. He sat with his back against my headboard, his long legs stretched out in front of him. I rested on my belly with my head at the foot of the bed, kicking my feet back and forth as we traded visions for the parade. Like he'd helped execute the Fall Ball, Derek was lending a helping hand with the parade. He and I shared a passion for fine details and organization.

# "Nice work, Julie," he said, reading over the list of sponsors I'd composed. "It looks like we're working with quite a hefty budget."

# "And this," I held up a sketch he'd drawn to detail the parade line-up, "it's beautiful. I love it."

# I turned to smile. His hair was mussed, and his face a few days unshaven. He lifted his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and then nodded, "Thanks."

# "You okay?"

# "Yeah, why?" he asked, looking back down at the list I'd given him.

# "You seem stressed."

# "Just tired," he fought a yawn. "A lot of sleepless nights lately, that's all."

# He managed a half-hearted smile, but I couldn't find anything but sadness and remorse lingering in his stare.

# Hannah's trial was coming up. In fact, it was just around the corner—early January— as long as it didn't get pushed back for a second time. Despite his anger over the crime his sister had committed, Derek still found it difficult to watch as Hannah helplessly wandered down the same path her father had taken.

# "It's going to be okay," I pulled myself up. I leaned my back against the headboard next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. "Hannah has to live with her decisions, Derek. But you don't."

# "I feel responsible—"

# "You shouldn't. You couldn't have known what she was going to do—"

# "I should've seen it, though," he said, finally finding the nerve to talk openly about his sister's crime for the first time since the shooting. "She was so insistent on coming here. When I suggested we leave and start over, she lobbied for Oakland like it was the answer to all of our prayers. Her behavior was so erratic, but I wanted to believe she just needed a change of scenery. I thought starting over would be the best thing for her... for both of us, really. But look where that got us. She sealed her fate with a single bullet."

# "You couldn't have stopped her," I said. "Hannah wasn't going to stop until she got what she came here for."

# "And I should've recognized that," he argued. "If I'd only stopped and paid more attention, but I was enamored by you, by our friendship. When we first arrived, all I wanted was to keep building on this bond we'd created. I stopped focusing on my family and started focusing on myself."

# "That's okay, though—"

# "And the moment I took my eyes off of Hannah, she nearly killed your boyfriend—"

# "Luke's not my boyfriend," I said, unable to stop the words. But it was too late. The mood shifted, and all it took were those four little words.

# Derek seemed to forget about his worry, and immediately shut down. His eyes glossed over as he stared straight out the window. I lifted my head from his shoulder and stared at him.

# "Derek, I'm—"

# "It's okay," he said, but I knew it wasn't.

# As far as he knew, Luke was my boyfriend... or some strange version of one. But it was hard for Derek to know anything; he always tuned out at the mere mention of the other guy. He'd become so distant. The fact that he'd even mentioned Luke was because of Hannah, and only then it had been an accident. But I understood. He'd openly admitted to having feelings for me and acknowledged my feelings for Luke. But because he wasn't the one my heart ached for, Derek didn't want any part of the discussion.

# We'd somehow reached an unspoken agreement. He wouldn't inquire about my love life—or lack thereof—and I wouldn't share anything that wasn't necessary.

# "I should probably get home," he pushed his overgrown hair out of his eyes. He didn't bother coming up with an excuse. We both knew why he was leaving; the air was thick with unrequited love.

# "Derek," I watched as he reached the door, "things are going to get better. I promise."

# He nodded, but didn't say another word before disappearing from the room.

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# "Can I reject it?"

# I arched my brow and stared at him.

# "It's an honor, Luke," I said. "Why would you want to reject it? The people of Oakland want to recognize you for your service on the force. Don't you want to accept their gratitude?" He looked at me, biting back a snarky comment I'm certain, and let me continue. "If nothing else, look at the perks. There's a float, flowers... not to mention the hundreds of captivated women in the crowd— all of them waiting to get a glimpse of the sexy, dangerous, and wounded Officer Reibeck." His lips curved into a smirk. "How can you say no to that? Huh? Huh?" I nudged him playfully in the side.

# He took a deep breath and shook his head.

# "Jules," he said, a soft gleam of humor lingering in his eyes. "I know you'll find this hard to believe, but it hasn't been my lifelong dream to sit atop a decorated parade float and perfect my princess wave."

# I threw him a sideways glance and shrugged.

# "Do whatever you want," I said, "but it'll fall on your shoulders to tell Grace."

# "Tell Grace what?"

# "That you're backing out. She's spent hours working on your float and your float alone." I took a minute to detail just how many hours of work she'd already dedicated to the Grand Marshal vehicle. "Do you really want to break an old woman's heart?"

# He closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds and then dropped his head. "Fine. I'll do it."

# I clapped my hands and smiled.

# We continued our long walk through the Historic District in the heart of Oakland. It was a beautiful one-street community of brick-faced buildings and quaint shops. In the summer, the trees on the sidewalks fully bloomed, casting a cool shade on the passersby as they meandered in and out of the stores. Now in December, the branches were bare and snow-covered, and the shoppers were more inclined to bustle than meander. It was a scene right out of a Kinkade painting.

# I was out to finish the last of my Christmas shopping, and Luke was a last-minute tag-along. It rarely occurred that we found a moment to spend together, let alone a full afternoon, but today was special. Charlie was stuck at the station all day dealing with a load of paperwork that he couldn't push off on someone else. With no threat of him lurking about, I called up Luke and asked if he'd like to join me on my final shopping day of the holiday season.

# This was the first one-on-one time we'd shared since our final dance at the Fall Ball. When the dance ended, Matt and Kara—his newest love interest—were ready to blow the joint. Luke left me with a sweet, warm kiss to the cheek, a hug, and a goodnight wish. Since then, I'd only seen him twice—once when Matt and I dropped by the station to take Charlie out for his birthday, and then once again when I bumped into him at the supermarket. Both times—no surprise at all— Charlie was breathing down my neck, so Luke and I could only utter the simplest of hellos.

# "What's with the goofy grin?" Luke zipped his leather jacket up a little further.

# "Hmm?" I asked, but shook my head to ward off any unusual expression. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

# "About?"

# "You," I admitted.

# He didn't seem fazed by my admission, so I assumed he'd already concluded that much.

# "Hey," he nodded at a small diner two doors down. "You wanna stop for lunch before we start shopping? If I know you, and I think I do, I'm going to need the fuel to get through this day. I can't imagine you're a fast shopper."

# I smiled and nodded, and together we walked in silence to the diner. He held the door as we reached the building, and then he rested his strong hand on the small of my back to direct me through the door.

# Minutes later, we were nestled at a cozy table in the farthest corner. The breakfast rush had subsided, and it was still too early for the lunch crowd to start straggling in. The diner was ticking at its daily low. It was quiet and serene, and I loved the vibe of intimacy the empty room created. Luke and I were the only customers in sight.

# The waitress, who seemed to know exactly who we both were, took our orders and left us alone. I'd quickly learned that it was one of the perks of small town life. Everybody knew everybody.

# "I won't lie," Luke said when the waitress disappeared into the kitchen. "This is nice."

# "What?"

# "Seeing you," he said, unzipping his jacket to take it off. He draped it along the back of his chair and turned back. "You have no idea how many times I've thought of dropping by." He jokingly pointed a finger at me, and his scarred lip curved into a smile. "Don't assume I'm going soft," he warned, "but I've missed you."

# I smiled, but didn't respond.

# "You know," I finally said a few minutes later, "there are these crazy little gadgets people are using nowadays." He lifted his brow as if interested to hear more. "They've actually been around since... gee, I don't know... about 1876. A phone," I said slowly, as if he'd never heard of one. "You use it when you want to talk to someone. You know, someone you like. Someone you're thinking about. Someone you miss."

# He licked his lips and shook his head. "A phone, you say?"

# "Don't humor me, Reibeck," I said, now pointing my finger at him. "If you really wanted to talk to me, you could've called or, at the least, sent a text. You know my number."

# "Just curious," he said, leaning back, "who pays your cell phone bill?"

# "Charlie."

# "And did it ever occur to you that he might be checking your phone records? If he's keeping tabs on you the way I think he is, he'll know the time and date of every text and call I send your way. And vice versa, kid." He watched me with slight disappointment, but it quickly passed. "I'm already in hot water as it is; I don't need any more grief from your uncle."

# The waitress returned a few minutes later and set two plates on the table. As she refilled Luke's glass with a pitcher of water, the bell over the diner door chimed. She looked up and nodded at the latest customers to let them know she'd be over momentarily.

# She looked back to Luke and smiled, "You look more like him every day."

# "What's that?" Luke raised his brow as if he hadn't heard her.

# "Your daddy, sweetheart," she nodded behind him.

# Luke and I turned to see Lonnie and Grace in the anteroom of the diner. Neither of them had seen us, so we turned back quickly and stared at one another.

# But then Luke's eyes snapped shut.

# "You want me to bring them this way?" the waitress asked. "I can put them right next to you—"

# "No," we said in unison, but it was too late. Grace had already spotted us. She was dragging Lonnie by a fistful of his sweater through the diner toward me and Luke.

# "Don't lose your cool," I whispered across the table. "But they're headed right for us." Luke nodded, but kept silent. "Do you want to get the check and go? We can go somewhere else to eat."

# "No," he rested his hand on top of mine. "The timing sucks, I won't lie." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I told you I'd make things right with Lonnie so, I might as well start now."

# CHAPTER THREE

#

# Grace and I had met on several occasions to discuss the floral arrangements for the Oakland Holiday Parade. Of the times we'd met, we'd never discussed anything outside of business with the exception of normal pleasantries. When Luke was brought up, it was only in discussion about the Grand Marshal float. As far as she—or anyone else—knew, Luke and I weren't involved in any way, shape, or form.

# Still, Grace had been the person to welcome Luke into their home the morning after the big storm in October. She's the one who'd told him that I was upstairs sleeping in his old bedroom. She's the one who'd welcomed him with open arms, despite the tension between him and Lonnie. So, in a way, it was hard to tell exactly what Lonnie and Grace Reibeck knew about Luke's social life. What had Detective Bruno, Grace's brother, told them, if anything? Did Lonnie know that the little blonde girl he'd swept off the ground, rescued from the storm, and sheltered in his home was (somewhat) romantically involved with his estranged son?

# Grace forced Lonnie to the neighboring table before turning to us and smiling.

# "What a pleasant surprise!" she leaned over to press a quick kiss to my cheek. "How are you?" She asked her question as if it'd been years since she'd seen or spoken to either of us. It was one of Grace's many qualities that I'd grown to love and adore; she always knew how to make a person feel incredibly special.

# "Wonderful," I looked behind her to meet her husband's stare. "Hi, Lonnie."

# He looked up and nodded, incoherently mumbling under his breath. Grace shrugged and looked back to Luke. "Lucas, sweetheart, how've you been?"

# Luke imitated his father, grumbling as he took a drink of his water. It was no wonder Lonnie thought his son hated Grace; Luke was acting as cold and distant as I'd ever seen him.

# Grace and I shared a solemn sigh.

# "Grace, Lonnie," I took my purse off the chair next to me. "Why don't you join us?"

# "What a lovely idea!" Grace said, now turning to pull Lonnie out of his own chair. Grace slid in next to Luke, and Lonnie slouched in the chair next to mine.

# "This is absurd," Lonnie said, his eyes darting across the table.

# Luke met his stare with an equally hate-filled look. "It's not a walk in the park for me, either—"

# "Now, boys," Grace interrupted with a motherly scold, "can't we just enjoy one meal together?"

# "Not hungry anymore," Luke pushed his plate away. He rolled out of his chair and stood up. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and threw a few bills down on the table. Snatching his jacket, he looked at me for a moment before turning to walk away.

# "Luke," I grabbed my purse and stood up. "Where are you going?"

# "Stay here and eat, Julie," he said, turning back. "I'll see you around."

# "Luke," I took a step forward. "Come on, don't do this. We had plans—"

# "Don't expect much else," Lonnie said, finally making his words loud and clear. "After all, running is what he does best."

# I turned back and glared at him before looking back to his son.

# "Please, Luke," I said, and suddenly my eyes welled with tears. After all the weeks I'd spent waiting to hear from him, waiting to see him, waiting on my chance to just reach out and touch him, I couldn't believe that he was standing there so eager to just walk away. "I haven't seen you in weeks. I don't know when I'm gonna get to see you again. We were supposed to spend the day together—"

# "Jules," he dropped his head to the side. He took a few steps to meet me in the middle of the diner. He lifted his hand to my face and wiped away the tears that had fallen on my cheeks. His brown eyes softened as he lowered his stare. "I thought I could do this, but I can't."

# "Luke—"

# "I'm sorry, kid," he said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I still have too much anger. I can't be in the same room with him."

# "Please don't," I whispered, feeling the tears fill my eyes once again. "You have to fix things with him. You have to."

# "I can't—"

# "Luke—"

# "Julie," he said, the softness in his voice fading away, "goodbye."

# He dropped his hands and turned on his heel. He was through the door and out of sight before I had time to register exactly what had just happened.

# Lonnie scoffed behind me, and I turned to look back at him.

# "You!" I took another step back toward the table. "This is all your fault."

# "My fault?" he looked from me to Grace and then back to me. "How do you figure?"

# I stood there, my heart slamming against my chest, staring at the man who'd scarred Luke—physically, mentally, and emotionally. My blood boiled as I watched him sit there so nonchalant, acting as though Luke was the only one to blame for their falling out.

# "Let me ask you a question," I said, bending at the waist to meet his gaze. "Where were you a couple of months ago when your son was laid up in the hospital with a bullet lodged in his chest?"

# "Excuse me?" he straightened his posture. He quickly became defensive, and his body language said it all.

# "When Luke was shot," I widened my eyes, "I was at that hospital day and night for weeks. Where were you? I mean, you did know he was shot, right?"

# "Read something like that in the paper, yeah," he acted as though it was just another casual article on the front page.

# "And it never occurred to you that maybe you should get in your car, drive down to the hospital, and be with him?" I asked. "He nearly died—"

# "Looks like he pulled through just fine," Lonnie still wore an emotionless expression.

# I leaned closer, now pointing my finger in his face, and I lowered my voice.

# "Your son took a bullet to save my life. Had he not been there to protect me, I'd be six feet under and nothing more than a vague memory in this town. I owe him everything. This town... they owe him infinite gratitude. But you... you owe him more than the rest of us combined."

# Lonnie pursed his lips, but remained silent.

# "I lost my father, Lonnie," I said, not giving in to the fear that boiled just beneath the surface of my skin. "A reckless drug dealer put a gun to his head and took his life. He left me, but not by choice. If he could be here, he would be because that's what a good father does."

# I watched as he rolled his eyes, surely convinced that my speech had nothing to do with him or Luke. But he was sadly mistaken....

# "The sickest part of all is that you think you were a good father," I continued. "You had a chance, but you abandoned your son. You had a choice, and you let him go. You stripped him of his will and dignity; he runs because of you. So stop acting like he does what he does to hurt other people. He runs so he doesn't get hurt."

# I turned to walk out. I had nothing else to say, but Lonnie's voice interrupted my dramatic exit.

# "You might wanna get your facts straight before you start tossing around accusations, Miss Little," he said, now standing. The steadiness in his voice told me that he wasn't the least bit rattled by anything I'd just said. My words seemed to roll right off his shoulders. He took a few steps toward me and shrugged, "If you knew what my son had put me through—"

# "I don't care," I said. "I know what Luke told me, and I believe every word."

# "So he told you that he just up and left?" Lonnie asked, raising his voice. His anger caught the attention of the diner workers, and everyone turned to watch. "Did he tell you that he just left? No explanation. No note, no call. Nothing. And that he never came home? He didn't bother to call, to check in. He just disappeared. It was like he vanished into thin air."

# His eyes suddenly seemed hollow, and he shook his head in disbelief.

# "A year passed... still, no word. I met Grace, moved on with my life...," he scoffed and dropped his head. "When I finally found him, and sent him an invitation to my wedding, I never even got so much as a simple rejection, Julie. It wasn't until three years ago that I even heard he'd come back to Oakland. Even then, he didn't bother to stop by."

# But why would he? I wanted to ask, but Lonnie wasn't eager to stop talking just yet.

# "Do you care to explain that," he asked, "since you apparently know everything?"

# I couldn't tell if his question was genuine, or if it was just simply his attempt to belittle me. I lowered my gaze and took a step toward Luke's father.

# "I heard you had a bit of a drinking problem right after your wife passed, Mr. Reibeck."

# "That's public knowledge," he shrugged a shoulder. "But I got help. What's that have to do with anything?"

# "Let me tell you a little story." I knew I'd have to rewind the clock to really drive my point home. "It dates back to a few months ago, not long after I met your son." Lonnie didn't look the least bit interested in hearing what I had to say, but he listened nonetheless. "Luke was over at my house for my uncle's annual poker night and had one too many drinks with the boys."

# Lonnie grumbled, but I could tell—given the glazed expression that swept across his face—that even that much information hurt him. Did it scare him to know that Luke hadn't learned from his mistakes? Was he disappointed that his son hadn't recognized his limits? I didn't know, but I continued anyway.

# "That very night," I said, "just before he left, he told me he loved me."

# "So you and Luke are an item, big deal."

# "We're not an item," I said definitely. "Luke was my mentor for a school project. We weren't even friends, if you want to put a label on things. Needless to say, we've always had a bit of a love-hate relationship." Lonnie's brows lowered as he waited for elaboration. "The whole point of my story is that when Luke came to pick me up the following Monday to continue our project, he didn't remember telling me that he loved me."

# Lonnie shrugged as if those words were irrelevant to the argument.

# "He was so wasted, Lonnie," I tried to make him understand as best as I could. "He was so far gone that he said and did things that he wouldn't have normally done under any other circumstance."

# Grace was now standing. She rested her hand on Lonnie's back, caressing him and comforting him the best she could. It was clear that Grace had followed what I was saying, but Lonnie appeared just as clueless as ever.

# "Your drinking problem was more of a problem than I think you realize, Mr. Reibeck. Just remember that before you start pointing fingers," I turned again to leave.

# "Julie," he said, and his voice was suddenly laced with anger, "you're not leaving until you tell me what he told you."

# "It's not my place," I looked over my shoulder. "Luke made it clear that he wanted to fix things on his own terms, but I think it's wise for you to remember that he's not the one responsible for what happened."

# Once again, I turned to leave, but a hand landed on my shoulder to stop me. I defended myself out of reflex, turning to slap Lonnie Reibeck square in the face. A bright, red handprint glowed from his cheek almost instantly.

# We stood and stared at each other for a few long seconds.

# "You shouldn't have done that," Lonnie said, his face turning red as he inched closer.

# "Why?" I swallowed hard. Despite the steadiness in my voice, my heart felt as if it would explode from my chest at any moment. "You gonna hit me back, Lonnie? Beat me to a pulp the way you did Luke?" The expression melted from his face. "At least this time you're sober, so you'll remember every strike. Go ahead; hit me—since hitting kids is what you've proven to be so good at—"

# "Stop it!" he dug his fingers into my shoulders as he shook me with every word he screamed. "I—never—hurt—my—son!"

# "Lonnie, no!" Grace darted forward to put herself between me and her husband.

# I stood staring at both of them, undoubtedly a mess. I rubbed my shoulders where Lonnie had grabbed me, doing my best to keep tears from my eyes. My hair was disheveled, and my clothes were wrinkled and creased.

# I'd provoked him. I saw the look in his eyes, the one I'm certain Luke saw on the night that Lonnie had struck him.

# Lonnie's eyes welled up with tears as Grace stepped forward to examine my arms. I shrugged her away and took a step back. Just as I turned to leave the diner, a police siren bleeped outside on the curb.

# I glanced at the waitress, who clung to the telephone receiver, and then back at the Reibecks.

# The bell over the door rang, and Charlie rushed in. His face was red and twisted as he stared between me, Lonnie, and Grace. He nodded at the waitress, who'd obviously called him in, and then turned back to me.

# "Get outside," he pointed back to the car. "Now."

# I walked around him and reached the door as he nodded at Grace and Lonnie. "Sorry for the disturbance. I assure you she won't be bothering your family again."

# CHAPTER FOUR

#

# There wasn't much solace to be found in a 6x8 holding cell.

# As I slouched lower on the wooden bench, I rested my head against the cold brick wall. I couldn't stop thinking about Lonnie. I couldn't believe I'd let myself cross that line. I'd betrayed Luke. I'd told Lonnie. The one thing he'd specifically said is that he didn't want his father to find out why he really left. He didn't want to hurt him. And I screwed it up.

# I could only imagine what he would say when he found out.

# Dammit, Julie, I could hear him yell. He'd twist his face in anger and hold a breath, biting his tongue so as not to say exactly what was on his mind. Can't you mind your own damn business?

# But this was my business... somehow....

# All I could do now was pray that he would understand. He had to. It was too late. I couldn't go back; it couldn't be undone.

# Lonnie needed to know why Luke resented him. They needed an icebreaker, and I was okay being the buffer. Maybe now they could talk, and let bygones be bygones.

# "Julie."

# Luke's voice resonated. I hung my head lower; I couldn't face him. Not like this. I could only imagine what he was about to say.

# "Julie," he said again, his voice softer than before. I finally looked up to meet his gaze. He rested his forehead against the opposite side of the steel bars. He wore a grin, and then looked away to suppress a laugh. A moment later, he turned back and looked down at me. "Whatcha doin' in there, kid?"

# "Thinking about what I've done," I mocked Charlie.

# When he'd shoved me into the jail cell—slamming it and locking it behind me—he'd promised that I wouldn't be allowed out until I agreed to apologize to Lonnie Reibeck for publicly humiliating him. Apparently I was supposed to be learning some kind of lesson as I sat and thought about my actions.

# Luke sidestepped to the door, inserted a rusted key, and turned the lock. He pushed the door open and motioned for me to come out.

# "I can't," I said. "Charlie'll freak—"

# "Okay," he said, coming inside. He shut the door behind him— latching it at the same time and joined me on the bench. "So," he said with a little rasp in his voice, "whatcha in for?"

# "Disturbance of the peace."

# "You guilty?"

# "Of course," I said. "How'd you know I was here?"

# "Bruno called," he said. "He couldn't quit laughing, actually. Said I had to come down and see it for myself."

# "Lovely," I rolled my eyes.

# "So," he said, still trying not to laugh at my expense, "what exactly did you do?"

# "I caused a scene at the diner."

# "Yeah?" he asked. "You want to elaborate on that?"

# I closed my eyes for a minute and then opened them slowly. I watched Luke, studying the sadness in his eyes. He was calm now, but it was clear he hadn't heard what had happened. I didn't want to be the one to tell him.

# The moment he learned what I'd done, he'd be angry. He'd leave.

# "I don't wanna tell you."

# I looked away, but Luke leaned forward to steal my gaze.

# "Why not?"

# "You'll leave," I knew there was more truth in that than anything. "You've mastered the art of running, Luke. And when I tell you... when you find out what I've done...."

# "Julie," he said, taking my hand, "what happened after I left the diner?"

# I lowered my head, refusing to say anything. When five slow minutes passed and neither of us exchanged another word, Luke dropped my hand and stood up.

# "See?" I said. "I haven't even told you yet, and you're walking away."

# He walked to the door. He reached into his pocket, pulled the key from inside, and threw it through the bars. The key slid at least ten feet down the hallway—far from reach.

# Now he'd done it. He'd locked himself in the jail cell with no way out.

# He turned back to me and shrugged, "I'm not going anywhere, Julie. Now tell me what happened."

# I spent the next fifteen minutes reliving the conversation I'd had with Lonnie in the diner. I told him every detail that I could remember, except for the moment when Lonnie grabbed me. I didn't see any point in adding fuel to the fire. Luke was already mad. If he found out that Lonnie had touched me... well, any plan he'd had to make up with his father would cease to exist.

# Luke was still standing. He leaned his back against the bars and watched me in silence.

# "I'm sorry," I said for the hundredth time. "I know you didn't want him to know the truth, and I never meant to tell him. But I couldn't stop talking. I was so angry. So... hurt. I couldn't let him sit there and act like your life didn't matter. He owes you an apology, Luke. He owes you so much—"

# "Julie," he said, holding his hand in the air to silence me, "it's okay."

# I blinked repeatedly for a few long seconds, "It is?"

# "Do I wish you'd respected my wish and let me deal with it on my own terms? Yes." He pushed his fingers back through his hair and then stepped away from the bars. He walked over and squatted in front of me, taking my hands. "But if the tables had been turned, I probably would've done the same thing, kid."

# "Really?" I asked, relieved that he wasn't yelling at me or scolding me for not minding my own business. Instead, he was holding my hands, caressing my fingers, and looking at me with nothing but love.

# He finally pulled himself up and sat down on the bench next to me. I leaned over and rested my head in his lap, staring out at the opposite wall. He combed his fingers through my hair, and the soft stroke of his hand calmed my nerves. My heart found a rhythmic balance for the first time since he held me at the Fall Ball. My breath finally steadied.

# I closed my eyes and enjoyed the touch of his legs beneath my cheek and his fingers in my hair. I don't know how long we sat there, neither one of us speaking. It must've been a while because before I knew it, Charlie was nudging me awake.

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# Luke was gone by the time Charlie retrieved me from the holding cell. I don't know how he slipped away without waking me, or how he'd gotten out without a key, but he was definitely gone. My guess was that Detective Bruno had helped him escape, but I couldn't figure out how I'd missed it. Either way, I was glad he wasn't there. There was no telling how Charlie would've reacted to finding me and Luke locked in the same cell together.

# By the following day, I still hadn't heard from Luke. It seemed like things were back to normal again.

# No calls.

# No texts.

# No Luke.

# Apple cinnamon candles were burning all around the house; it was my mom's favorite scent this time of year. Since the anniversary of my parents' death was quickly approaching, I'd been feeling very nostalgic.

# "It's okay, Julie. It takes a few times to get it right," Matt placated me. I doubted it ever took him more than one time to master anything in the kitchen. The first time I pulled mom's secret recipe holiday cookies out of the oven, they were beyond saving. The bottoms were burnt black, but the tops were doughy and uncooked.

# "I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Mattie," I said, dumping the cookies into the garbage. "Mom never ruined a batch—"

# "Let me help you," he came over to my side of the counter.

# "No," I said, reaching for the flour and sugar, "I have to do this."

# I stared at the recipe for another minute. It amazed me how much I hated baking. Mom had always loved being in the kitchen; needless to say, she and Matt loved each other's company during the holidays. And I knew she wouldn't want to see me fretting over something so simple because it just wasn't in my soul to be so domestic.

# Mom would want someone enjoying her recipes as much as she had, so I nodded and looked to my cousin.

# "You do it."

# I pushed the recipe across the counter until it stopped in front of Matt.

# "I thought you wanted to—"

# "This is your area of expertise," I said, handing it over once and for all. "I'll just keep wasting ingredients until I get it right, and God knows that could be forever."

# "Really?" he flipped through the handwritten cookbook.

# "It's all yours," I knew there was no place safer for my Mom's beloved recipes than in the hands of Matthew Little. "Honestly, I have no use for it."

# Matt's face lit up. He pressed an obligatory kiss to my cheek and darted toward the refrigerator for eggs.

# I left the kitchen with my head hanging low. I passed Charlie in the living room and nodded, but didn't say a word as I headed for the front door.

# "Where are you going?"

# I stopped, already holding the door knob in my hand, and turned back.

# "To see Derek," I said. "He's been in a bit of a funk lately. I just want to make sure he's okay."

# After all, he had every right to be a little down, didn't he? It'd been his father who'd committed the terrible crime that robbed me of both of my parents. That night Derek and I both became victims of one very horrific event. It just seemed natural to be with someone who truly understood that pain. He needed me as much as I needed him.

# "So, if it's okay?"

# Charlie nodded and looked back at his paper.

# A short walk across the lawn later, I stood on Derek's front porch, knocking away. I waited in silence for two full minutes.

# Nothing.

# It wasn't like him to ignore a knock, so I assumed he was out. His car wasn't in the driveway, and he almost never parked in the garage. I rang the doorbell in case my knock wasn't loud enough, but still no response. It didn't dawn on me until the second ring that Elvis wasn't barking. The dog always guarded the door when Derek was out. Wherever Derek was, Elvis must've gone too; there wasn't a single sound coming from inside the house.

# Shrugging, I stepped down from the porch and walked to the garage. Looking through the small windows lining the top of the door, I immediately noticed it was empty. Not only was Derek's blue Prius not parked inside, but the boxes that usually lined the far wall were also missing.

# I ran back up to the porch and started banging on the door.

# "Derek!" I yelled. "Derek! It's Julie! Are you home?"

# I waited for a brief second and then ran to the window to peek inside. The house was empty. The few furnishings he'd had were no longer there. I hopped off the porch and dug up a spot in the flowerbed where I'd once watched him hide a spare key.

# I went back to the door, unlocked the bolt, and pushed it open.

# The reality of the emptiness stopped me dead in my tracks. My stomach felt as hollow as the room I was looking at. The house was vacant; there was nothing left.

# "Derek?" I asked, tears filling my eyes. "Hello?"

# My voice carried through the empty rooms, echoing off the naked walls.

# I walked slowly through each room.

# The living room... the kitchen... the bathroom... Hannah's old bedroom—all empty.

# I turned the corner and faced the door at the end of the hall. Derek's bedroom door was shut, but I didn't have to open it to know what I would find. If the rest of the house was any indication, Derek's room would be nothing but an empty void of space.

# I took slow steps to the final door, grasped the knob, and took a long, deep breath. Tears filled my eyes as I braced myself for the emptiness. But when I opened the door, something suddenly caught my eye.

# There was a box—a small, blue shoebox, sitting in the middle of the hardwood floor; it was the only thing Derek had left behind.

# I stared at the box for what felt like an eternity. My heartbeat was gaining momentum by the second. I closed my eyes and thought back to a day I'd shared with Derek in this very room just weeks ago.

# "Get rid of the box, Derek," I'd told him. "You are not defined by the things your family has done. I know who you are, and this isn't you talking. That box... everything in it... it's trash. You need to stop holding on to it. You need to move on. We both do."

# Sitting on top of the box was a white envelope with my name scrolled neatly across the front. Taking slow breaths, I suppressed the tears that came to the surface. I walked to the center of the room and sat down next to the shoebox, picking up the envelope. I opened it carefully, scared of what the letter inside might say.

#

# Julie,

# I don't have to tell you what you already know. If you're reading this letter, you can already see that I'm gone.

# I wanted to say goodbye, but I couldn't face you. I couldn't come up with a good enough explanation, and I knew you'd never let me walk away unjustified.

# I had to leave Oakland; I couldn't stay anymore. The guilt has become too much for me. This house... the memories... it haunts me every day. I have to find myself again, Julie. I have no choice. If I want to survive this pain, I have to move on.

# You were right. This box—and everything in it—is holding me back. I can't keep living with the ghosts of my past. I have to put all of that behind me now, and that includes you.

# Please understand that this isn't personal. I care about you... so much. But I can't face another day with the reminder of who I really am or the places I've been. I can't look in your eyes one more time and see the hurt and pain that my family has caused.

# I need a new start... alone.

# Elvis is at the shelter; he'll find a good home, I'm sure.

# I'm sorry to leave you in the lurch with the parade, but I have a world of faith in you. You'll do great.

# Maybe someday we'll meet again. I truly hope that's the case. But now isn't the time. I need to follow my heart. And so do you.

# Thank you for being the friend I always needed,

# Derek

# PS I hope you find the happiness you're searching for, with or without Luke.

#

# I read the letter a second time and wiped away my tears. I buried my face in my hands and cried, letting my tears seep through my fingers and create a puddle on the floor.

# It was a pain I had yet to experience, the kind that I'd accused Lonnie of inflicting on his own son. It was the pain of being abandoned... by choice.

# Derek wasn't really gone, but he had left.

# I dropped the letter to the floor and looked at the box.

# Why would he leave it? What did he want me to do with it? I didn't want his memories.

# I pulled the lid off the box and caught a sob in my throat... because all I found was a pile of ashes; he'd burned everything that he'd collected over the years. The pictures, the newspaper clippings, the suicide note his mother left... it was nothing but gray ash lining the bottom of the box.

# My heart ached as I stared at what was left of Derek's room; there was nothing but four walls, a single window, and a box and envelope on the floor.

# It felt foolish to mourn for someone who'd intentionally left me behind, but somehow I found the strength to smile. He was doing what he had to do. He finally trusted himself to be the person he needed to be.

# Derek had done many great things in the short time that I'd known him, but walking away was probably the most admirable thing of all.

# He was starting over.

# I picked up the box, the letter, and the envelope and carried them out of the room. I walked slowly through the house, taking the time to reminisce. As I stood at the front door, one foot already on the porch, I looked back in the house and nodded.

# "Thanks for the memories," I whispered, finally stepping out and closing the door behind me.

# I kept the key; it didn't belong in the ground. I wanted to keep it with me, just in case I ever needed it. Just in case I ever did run into Derek again... so I could give it back to him... and so he would always know that he could come back home.

# There would always be a place for him in Oakland, and he would always have a place in my heart.

# CHAPTER FIVE

#

# I spent the better part of the week focusing on nothing but the parade. Without Derek, I found myself drowning. I thought I could do it without him, and I probably could have if I still had Grace on my side. But I hadn't heard from her since the day I confronted Lonnie at the diner, and I honestly wasn't too surprised. Why would she want to have any kind of contact after all the horrible things I'd said to (and about) her husband?

# I'd promised the Oakland Celebration Committee that I could handle the finer details alone, and I wanted to stay true to my word. But there was always this little voice in the back of my head that criticized every move I made. The voice, strangely enough, always sounded like Charlie's.

# "Kara," I motioned for her to climb aboard the float. "Can you take your position for just a second? I need to get an idea of where we're at."

# Kara, Matt's new girlfriend, was the sweetest girl I'd ever met. She was Oakland High School's Junior Class President, dance committee chair member, and a diplomatic representative in the Model UN. I still don't know how their relationship sparked, but there's no secret why she'd caught Matt's eye. She was beautiful—5'6", brunette hair, amber eyes, and a smile that could knock any guy off his feet. Furthermore, her amazing personality added to her charm. Just last spring she was voted the Oakland City Festival Queen. That, I'm sure, came with its own set of duties and obligations, which included being a participant in the holiday parades.

# Kara climbed aboard her float and sat down on the throne. Bundled in her coat, scarves, gloves, and hat, she waved at the imaginary audience.

# "How's it look?" she called down.

# "Perfect," I gave her a thumbs up.

# Grace stood on the float next to Kara's throne, strategically placing flowers on either side.

# Grace and I had been at the parade line-up since seven. It was now eight, and neither of us had spoken a word to the other.

# Twenty minutes after I'd given Kara's float the green light, the marching band stepped into place. The flautists were adjusting their mouth pieces to tune their instruments in the cold wind. The drummers were goofing off, shoving each other in the back of the line. The rest of the band warmed up their instruments with a melodic scale.

# I glanced to the front of the line where the Grand Marshal float sat, and I watched as Luke climbed aboard. I finished giving instructions to the last of the group around me, and rushed over to greet him.

# "Hey," I said, calling up to Luke, "lookin' great!"

# "The float or me?" he jiggled his eyebrows. He offered his hand to help pull me up. I accepted his gesture, cupping his hand in mine, and jumped up on the wagon-turned-parade float. Standing next to him, he draped his arm over my shoulders and glanced back at the long line of cars and floats. "You've done an amazing job, kid."

# "Thanks," I tried to tune out the marching band directly behind us. "I can't stay. I have so much to do at the end of the line. Derek was supposed to...." I dropped my head and shrugged. "It's chaotic; no one knows what's going on." Luke nodded as though he understood. "But I wanted to stop by real quick and say hi and thanks."

# "For what?"

# "Doing this," I said. "It means a lot to me... and... well, everyone else. You really deserved this—"

# "Hey," he spoke louder as the band behind us warmed up in unison. He watched as my stare lingered behind him, and he could obviously see that my mind wasn't where it needed to be. "Are you okay?"

# I nodded, "Just stressed."

# "About the parade, or Derek?"

# I shrugged again for a second time. I didn't know how Luke had found out that Derek was gone. I'd never told him. But in a town as small as Oakland, news traveled fast. I could only imagine the whole town knew he was gone within 24-hours of him pulling out.

# He wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close, and brushed our noses together.

# "Julie," he nearly yelled, still trying to talk over the band. "Don't worry about him. He'll be fine."

# "I know," I matched his volume. As much as I wanted to stay and talk about how much pain I harbored at Derek's sudden disappearance, I couldn't neglect my duties as a member of the Oakland Celebration Committee. There were things that needed doing, and they wouldn't get done without me. "I have to go now. They need me at the back of the line."

# "Go," he said, letting me slip away. But before I could jump off the float, his hand wrapped gently around my wrist, and he twirled me back to him. Our chests pressed together, and I found myself breathing far too heavily. I didn't know if it was Luke's warm body against mine, or the freezing cold wind, but something left me numb and frazzled.

# He leaned down and whispered something, but I couldn't make out the words. Even that close, the band was far too loud to make out Luke's whispers.

# "What?" I yelled. He smiled, shook his head, and whispered again. "Luke," I yelled again, pointing to my ears, "I can't hear you, it's too loud—"

# "I love you!" he yelled, and this time everyone heard him. The band had stopped at the most inopportune moment, and everyone in the line-up—and even a few members of the gathering crowd—watched us with wide eyes and stupid grins.

# I took a long, deep breath as I looked around, failing to meet his gaze.

# "Julie," Luke said, his voice much quieter now. He lifted his hands to cup my face. "Did you hear me?"

# I couldn't help but smile. Of course I'd heard him. The whole town had heard him.

# "Julie!" Grace yelled from two floats over. "The 4-H float is overcrowded. They want help arranging their second unit—"

# "I'm on it," I nodded, but never looked at her. I couldn't tear my eyes away from Luke's. "I'll be right there."

# "Jules—"

# "Can you just... hold that thought? I have to—"

# "Go," he smiled. "Do what you have to do. I'll see you after the parade."

# With a quick and unexpected kiss, I took a step away from him and jumped to the ground. The warmth from his lips still tingled on my skin as I stumbled back to the end of the line.

# It felt like a dream. I almost couldn't catch my breath. My heart pounded inside my chest, louder with each passing second.

# Luke... just... said... he... loved... me....

# "Eh, Romeo!"

# Charlie's voice snapped me out of my trance. I whipped around to find him pushing through the crowd toward the Grand Marshal float.

# "No," I said under my breath, fighting to get back to Luke before my uncle made it there.

# But Grace intercepted.

# "Chief," I barely heard her say, "glad you made it on time." Charlie tried to push by Grace to reach the front of line, but she kept a firm grasp on his arm. "You're representing the Oakland PD, sixth in line. Please get back to your patrol car."

# Charlie's face was as red as I'd ever seen it, but he seemed to know better than to mess with Grace. He pointed up to Luke, not saying a word, but communicating a pretty clear message. Luke had crossed a line. But, minding Grace's authority, Charlie turned on his heel and marched back to his car.

# Grace turned and nodded to me with a slight grin. "Go get the 4-H kids squared away, sweetheart. I've got this end covered."

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# The event went off without a hitch, and the parade was over by eleven. Most of the participants stuck around to disassemble their floats before heading over to the diner—the site of my emotional breakdown and confrontation with Lonnie—for a celebratory lunch. By the time the band was out of uniform and loading their instruments on the bus, most of the crowd had cleared out.

# "Hey," I said to Grace, who was now clearing flowers from Luke's float, "thank you... for... earlier."

# "Charlie's a stubborn ole mule," she said, shaking her head. "I wasn't about to let him lay a hand on Lucas."

# She looked at me for a moment and then straightened up. "About what happened at the diner—"

# "I'm sorry, Grace," I said, genuinely remorseful. When I'd attacked Lonnie, I had every intention of hurting him, but I had never wanted to hurt Grace. Hearing me say those things—no matter how true they were—couldn't have been easy for a wife to hear about her loving husband. "I let my anger get the best of me; I hope you can forgive me—"

# "No need for apologies, Julie," she waved her hand. "This fight isn't between us, sweetheart. It's between Lucas and his father. No one blames you for what happened back there."

# "Thanks," I nodded, "you have no idea how much it's been weighing on me—"

# "How're your shoulders?" she asked, brushing my hair aside. "Did he hurt you?"

# "I'm okay," I tried to pull away, but she took a firm hold on me—just like she'd done to Charlie when he went after Luke—and pulled the neckline of my sweater back to look at my arms. I took a deep breath because I knew exactly what she would find. When Lonnie had grabbed me, he hadn't done so gently. The large bruises on my shoulders were proof enough.

# "My God," she whispered, running her fingers across the fading marks. "Honey, why didn't you tell me?"

# "Grace," I lowered my head. "He snapped because of me. It was my fault—"

# "But he hurt you—"

# "Who hurt you?" Luke stepped up on the float and gently pushed Grace away. He pulled the back of my shirt away to see what Grace had discovered, and then looked back to me. The softer gleam he'd worn earlier quickly faded, and it was suddenly replaced with a protective rage.

# "Charlie?" he asked, bending to meet my stare, but I kept from looking at him. "Julie!"

# "Let it go, Luke. It doesn't matter. What's done is done—"

# "Did Charlie do this to you?" he ignored me.

# "No," I knew, as well as he should have, that Charlie would never lay a finger on me, "it wasn't Charlie."

# "Derek?" He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. "I'll kill that sonofa—"

# "Calm down, Lucas," Grace put her hand on his back.

# "I'm not going to calm down until she tells me what happened," he said, looking down at me. His face was growing redder by the second. "Julie?"

# "This is why I didn't tell you, Luke," I said. "I knew you would overreact."

# "Overreact?" he yelled. "Someone hurt you. That's not okay."

# Luke was chivalrous, yes. Even in that moment, all he wanted was justice. But then something happened; his demeanor changed far too quickly. What was once anger and rage suddenly became sorrow.

# "Why do you trust Grace and not me?"

# "I didn't tell Grace," I looked at my feet. "I didn't tell anyone. And I'd never planned to. She only knows because she was there when it happened."

# And then I didn't have to say another word. The realization hit him in a nanosecond. Another wave of anger swept across his face as he whipped around to look at his step-mother.

# "I'll kill him," he said, less to her and more to himself.

# He turned away and jumped off the float without another word, no doubt on an unstoppable mission to find his father.

# Grace and I shared a mutual look of worry, but there was nothing we could do.

# Luke was gone.

# CHAPTER SIX

#

# "Sorry, Julie," Grace flipped the sign hanging on the door of her small floral shop to close for the day, "I haven't seen him since yesterday, sweetheart."

# "It doesn't make sense," I rubbed my temples to fight off another migraine. Ever since Luke had stormed away, leaving me and Grace alone on the float, no one had seen or spoken to him. I'd called Detective Bruno earlier that day to see if Luke had come into the station, but he wasn't scheduled for a shift. Luke's hours had been hit and miss ever since the shooting. I knew my chances of catching him at work were slim, but I was desperate to get in touch with him by any means possible.

# "Julie," she glanced out the window at the heavy snow. She turned back to me. "Go home. It's late. It's dark. Wherever he is, I'm sure he's fine—"

# "But—"

# "Julie," she said again, her voice growing testy. "It's almost Christmas. Don't you think your family wants you home right now... and not on a wild goose chase?"

# I stood in the middle of the floral shop and shook my head. Christmas or not, I didn't really care. I wanted to find Luke, or at least know that he was okay.

# "Something must be wrong," I ignored her. "Luke wouldn't just take off and not come back."

# "Sure he would," Lonnie stepped out from behind the curtain that separated the storefront from the back office.

# "Stop," I pointed at him, "you're the last person I want to hear attitude from right now."

# "I'm just saying," Lonnie said, now leaning against the counter.

# "Where does he live?" I asked Grace, ignoring her husband.

# "Couldn't tell you if we wanted to," Lonnie said. "We don't stay in touch, remember?"

# "148 Main," Grace avoided Lonnie's stare. "It's a two-story apartment complex here in the district. Right down from Dot's Antique Shop."

# Not sticking around to hear how Lonnie and Grace's conversation would unfold from there, I ducked out into the snow and headed for Luke's. One block later, my toes were frozen. My nose felt like it could break off, and I'd lost all feeling in my fingers.

# I reached Luke's complex and rang the bell.

# Nothing.

# I knocked—pounded, actually—but there was still no sign of him. And suddenly, an eerie feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

# It all felt too familiar.

# What if he had left?

# What if all the pressure was too much? He'd been depressed for so long about not getting back to his normal work schedule, and now that he was back at the station, Charlie had been treating him like dirt. The person he respected the most suddenly stopped respecting him. And then, adding in all the familial pressure he was under with Lonnie only made matters even worse. And then, of course... there were all those mixed emotions he'd been feeling because of me....

# What if, when he added it all up, it was just too much?

# Did he make like Derek and leave Oakland for good?

# "Luke!" I screamed, now banging on the door. "Please, Luke!"

# I didn't even care that it was a shared complex; surely another tenant would hear me and let me in. Surely someone would know something. Had anyone seen him come or go? Where was he?

# The crunch of footsteps in the snow rounded the corner and I stopped, praying it was Luke as he returned home. But I soon realized that I couldn't have gotten so lucky. It wasn't him; it was, however, a comforting and familiar face.

# "Miss Julie," Detective Bruno rounded the corner, "still nothing?"

# "Where is he?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes. "Why isn't he answering?"

# Bruno wrapped me in his warm arms and let me cry against his chest. It wasn't long before he pulled away, draped his arm across my shoulders, and walked me down the street to his car.

# He didn't say where we were going, but I knew. He was pulling me off the street and taking me home; whether I liked it or not, Bruno was calling off my search.

# Just a few minutes later, I was sitting on the first step inside the house, listening as Detective Bruno told Charlie he'd found me wandering through the historic district, cold and frazzled... and looking for Luke.

# "Thanks for bringing her home," Charlie waved as Bruno let himself out.

# When the door shut, Charlie turned to me and sighed.

# "What do I have to do to get through to you, Julie?" he asked, grabbing at the roots of his short hair. "Stop—chasing—Luke. He's no good for you—"

# "I know you think that," I pulled myself up to take a stand. "And I know you've thought that since the day he came here to talk to you." A questionable look swept across his face, but he bit his tongue and let me continue. "But you know what, Charlie? I don't care anymore. I'm not gonna keep pretending that what you're doing is okay. You can't keep bending over backward to keep me from seeing him. You can't follow me around, question my every move, and lock me up in jail cells for the rest of my life. I love him—"

# "I don't care," he said, acting as though my words had stung a little. "As long as you're under my roof—"

# "I live by your rules," I said. "Yeah, I know. I've heard it a million times."

# "You and Luke... that combination is out of the question."

# "I don't understand why you hate him!"

# "I don't care if you understand!" he yelled. He took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. "Luke is a damn good cop; he's an even better person. I couldn't ask for someone better on my force. My feelings about this situation have nothing to do with me not liking him. I love that kid like he's my own." He raised his chest as if he was done explaining himself, but then he continued. "My problem, Julie, is that I don't like the idea of you with him."

# "If he's so great," I hoped to get to the bottom of whatever it was that was going on, "why are you so recklessly determined to keep us apart?"

# He glared at me, wearing his typically stern expression, but I refused to falter. Finally I had something worth fighting for, and I was going to fight for it. Charlie must've sensed the determination in my stare because he finally dropped his head.

# "Because," he said, "if you keep running after him, you'll finally get what you want."

# "And getting what I want is a bad thing?"

# "Yes," he admitted, and I had to give him credit for his honesty. But I still didn't understand. "You're beautiful, Julie. You're so intelligent, and sure... Luke would be an idiot to ignore all of that. So yes, if you go after him, he'll fall—hard. And maybe someday you'll get married and have a kid of your own."

# "I'm failing to see the problem with this picture," I nearly whispered, imagining the joy that would come with spending an eternity with Luke.

# "What happens when you get that call?" he asked, his eyes welling up with tears. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Reibeck, your husband won't be coming home." He choked down a sob, and I could see him reliving his very own past. A tear escaped from his eye, and he quickly wiped it away. "Then what, Julie? Then you have nothing!"

# "Charlie—"

# "No!" he yelled. "Why haven't you learned? Don't you remember what you went through the night Luke was shot? Don't you remember the hell it put you through? Multiply that by a million and maybe you'll understand what it would be like to fall in love with him, marry him, have a family with him... and then have it all ripped away in one fell swoop."

# I bit my tongue and swallowed hard.

# Matt had only been three when Charlie's wife, my Aunt Laurie, was killed in a hit and run accident. When Charlie's peers showed up on his doorstep, heads hanging low, and delivered the news to my uncle, his life came crashing down. He'd lost his wife, and there was nothing he could do to rectify the situation. It was completely out of his control. He was left to raise Mattie alone, and—true to what I'd always believed— he'd never healed his broken heart.

# And now he was taking his heartache out on me....

# "Charlie," I kept my voice low, "I know you miss Laurie, but no matter who I choose to love, that love will come with the risk of loss. Laurie had the safest job in the world, but that didn't keep her from meeting her inevitable fate." Charlie continued to shake his head, practically blubbering at this point. I couldn't be sure he was listening to a single word I said. "I don't want to live my life in fear anymore. Getting through this past year has been one of the hardest things I've ever done. I cried myself to sleep for months after we buried my parents. I struggled to fit into this town and make friends at a new school. News flash, I didn't fit in. The only friend I had was Matt. The only reason people accepted me was because of him. But deep down, I was just that freak whose parents were slaughtered. No one wanted to be my friend, Charlie. But then I met Luke...and Derek... and everything changed. People started to actually care about me for me. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere." Tears soaked my face, running from my eyes to my mouth. I wiped them away with the back of my sleeve and shook my head. "I lost Derek. He's gone, and he's probably never coming back. But please don't take Luke from me. He's all I have," I cried harder still, almost toppled over from the pain. "So please... if you know where he is...."

# Charlie dropped his head. He wiped away a single tear and shrugged.

# "I haven't heard from him, Julie," he said, and I truly believed him. "You'll be the first person he tries to contact. If he's not checking in with you, maybe you should take the hint."

# I nodded and turned back for the stairs.

# "As long as Luke wants me in his life," I turned back to get my last word in, "I'm going to be there. I don't care if it's one day, two months, or a lifetime... I'm not going to run from him just because I know he could die someday. Charlie, we're all dying. Every breath we take... we're one step closer to the end. And I want to spend every second of my life holding on to the people I love. If you can't respect that, fine. That just makes you one less person I don't have to waste my time loving."

# He nodded as if he finally understood, but didn't say a word. I followed the steps to the second floor, reaching my room, and shutting the door quietly behind me.

# I spent the next hour trying to call Luke, but the calls were going straight to voicemail.

# By ten o'clock, I decided to get some sleep. If I hadn't heard from Luke by then, I probably wouldn't.

# I lifted my school bag off the end of the bed, cursing myself when the contents of the bag spilled on the floor. I picked each binder and notebook up off the floor and tucked them back into their rightful place. The final notebook had fallen open, so I picked it up with care. Keeping it in hand, I sat on the bed, leaning over the pages of scribbles, doodles, and chicken scratch.

# It was my notebook from the job-shadowing project, and it had honestly been weeks since I'd cared to open it up.

# I'd been in Luke's patrol car when I first scribbled the questions on the page. Each answer he'd given me was written next to the original question. Little hearts covered the page. Tiny notes in the margin said things like you're not the only one suffering, Julie and find out where his scar came from. I read over the notes for ten minutes, laughing at the stupid little notes I'd left myself. And then, as if by a force I couldn't control, my eyes gravitated to the bottom of the page.

# Angry cops make bad cops.

# Without another breath, I suddenly realized where Luke was.

# CHAPTER SEVEN

#

# I slid on ice for the third time, using the branches along the wooded path to keep myself from falling.

# There was something incredibly eerie about the Oakland woods in the middle of the night. It wasn't nearly as serene, beautiful, or magical as I'd remembered it.

# I'd only ever taken this path once before. The first time I'd come through here, it was daytime, and I was holding on to Luke's hand to keep from losing my way through the trees.

# After ten minutes of trudging through the snow, I finally reached the opening. The hills that were once spread with thick, luscious, green grass and beautiful wildflowers were now covered with two inches of white, mostly untouched snow. The blanket glistened in the moonlight, and now—more than ever—I understood why Luke came out here to escape.

# Sitting at the far edge of the nearest hill, Luke stared out at the rolling acres. A fire burned next to him, crackling and popping as he looked on.

# I took a few loud steps toward him, still trying to keep my balance.

# "Luke," I said quietly, hoping not to scare him.

# He didn't turn to acknowledge me. He simply looked on without moving an inch.

# "You're getting good at this disappearing act," I tried to break the ice with a little smile. "You've been MIA for quite some time now, and you never did tell me how you got out of the cell last week. What's your secret?" Still, he didn't look at me. Figuring he wasn't in any kind of mood to joke, I let go of a sigh. "I hope you're not mad that I came out here.... I figured you wanted to be alone, but I've been worried about you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." A few quiet minutes passed. I took a seat on the snow-covered hill and stared at him from the corner of my eye. "You've been ignoring me."

# "No," he whispered, finally looking at me. His nose was red and his cheeks were burned from the wind. "I left my phone at home. It's probably dead."

# "How long have you been out here?" I asked. "Is this where you came yesterday after you left the parade? Lonnie said you never showed up at the house, which we all kinda thought you would. When... when no one had heard from you, I was scared that you might've—"

# "Fled?" he asked, understanding why I'd assume so. He shook his head and then looked across the empty field. "I've been here, yes."

# "The whole time?" I wrapped my coat tighter. The cold wind trumped the warmth of the fire, so it worried me that he'd spent so long in these elements.

# "I didn't sleep here, if that's what you're asking," he said. "I slept at home. I came back first thing this morning."

# I nodded. "It's cold."

# "It's... the only place I can...," he dropped his head. "I don't trust myself around him. I had to walk away, Julie."

# "He never meant to hurt me, Luke," I said, for what it was worth. "I provoked him. I... hit him first, actually. He just didn't want to believe what I was telling him. He wanted me to stop talking, but... I didn't. It was my fault."

# "It's never your fault when someone else hurts you," he said. "And I'm going to take care of it. I just... have to get my head on straight before I do. I have to get rid of all this rage, and that means letting go of everything I've been holding on to. Because the way I feel about you, kid... it conquers everything else. Nothing else is that big. Not me, not Charlie, not my father, and certainly not my past. You are the most important. And loving you means protecting you, so I'm going to make this right."

# "You know what I want, Luke?" I asked, undoubtedly a little frazzled by what he'd just said. As sweet as it was though, he needed to understand what I truly needed from him. "I want you to forgive him. If you can let go of what he did to you, you can let go of what he did to me. It wasn't intentional. Lonnie's a good guy at heart, you know that. He has an amazing wife, an incredible son, and a world of love to give to the people who take the time to understand him." I took his hands and squeezed them tight. "I want to be in your life, Luke. And I want that life to include Lonnie and Grace. They're your family. So, please put this anger behind you. Stop running. Because eventually, you're gonna get old. And do you really want to reach the end of your life and reflect... and realize that you spent so many years running from the people who loved you the most?"

# Luke didn't say anything, but he nodded.

# "Luke," I slid closer to him, "you can't control what Lonnie does any more than you can control the weather. He's your father. He's bound to set you off sometimes—if not more so than I do." He smiled. We both knew it was true. I had a way of pushing Luke's buttons. If anything, I'd become a master at pissing him off; that's what had brought us out to this field all those months ago in the first place. "Take a breath, let it go, and make things right with him."

# A few silent moments passed before another sound came from either of us. This time, it was Luke.

# "Jules," he shook his head, "promise me something."

# "Anything."

# "That you'll never stop."

# "Never stop what?"

# He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, "Loving me the way you do."

# I nodded as a tear slipped from my eye.

# I hoped that he'd never doubt the magnitude of my love for him, but if it made him feel better hearing it, I'd repeat it a thousand times for no other reason than to reassure him.

# "I'll always love you, Luke," I said. "I promise."

#

# ♥♥♥

#

# We stood outside the door of Lonnie and Grace's house. Luke's hand held mine, and even now I could feel his palms sweating through my gloves.

# The Christmas lights on their house sparkled and blinked with the change of each carol they played, and the snow fell almost rhythmically with each change of the lights.

# "This is the first time we're going to be in the same room together for this long in... God, I don't know how long," Luke said, still staring at the doorbell.

# Grace and Lonnie had extended an invitation to me, Charlie, and Matt to join them at their annual Christmas celebration. Behind the door, Charlie and Matt (who'd brought Kara) were inside, celebrating the holidays with their friends. No doubt Bruno was there. I'd waited patiently at the house to see if Luke would show up and tag along, even though he wasn't invited.

# He wanted to take the first step. He wanted to make amends. Not for my sake, but for his own. But he was nervous, and rightfully so.

# "You don't have to do this if you're not ready," I squeezed his fingers tighter.

# He nodded, but let go of my hand. He extended his arm toward the doorbell and took a brief pause. His finger hovered in the air just an inch from the button, but he never pushed it.

# "Julie," he turned back to me.

# "It's okay," I said. "We'll just go back home. I'll make a pizza, and we can just put this whole night behind us."

# "No," he said, but I could still hear the hesitancy in his voice. "I want to go in... I just... first... thank you."

# I smiled and nodded. "You don't have to thank me, Luke. I didn't do anything."

# "You're giving me my life back," he said. "And not just my old life, but a better one, one with my dad...with you. I don't deserve—"

# "Stop," I said. "You do. You deserve it more than anyone I know."

# Once again, he reached for the bell.

# "Luke," I said before he rang it. He turned back to me with a questionable glance. "Before we go in there... I just want to say something."

# "Okay?"

# "I love you," I said. "You need to know that."

# "I do."

# "But really," I said, "I haven't had a chance to just say that to you. Either you're fighting to stay alive, or brooding, or running. Every time I've been able to tell you that... I can't just say it without looking for some kind of response or end result. There's always something attached to it. Like, Luke, I love you, don't die. Or Luke, I love you, please don't kill Lonnie. Or Luke, I love you, please forgive your dad."

# "Julie," he lifted his hand to brush a snowflake off my cheek, "I love you, too."

# He lowered his lips to mine, and my mouth parted for his. The warmth of his touch soared through me. I was so hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him. For the first time since we'd met, I didn't have to question how he felt.

# He was there, right in front of me. I was wrapped in his arms, a willing recipient of his tender embrace, and enjoying every second of our rhythmic kiss.

# When he pulled away, he brushed my face yet again, this time just to feel the warmth of my cheeks beneath his fingers.

# "Promise me something," I whispered.

# "Anything."

# "That you'll never stop."

# A small smirk lifted the corner of his lip, "Never stop what?"

# "Kissing me the way you do," I tried to restrain a smile.

# A low groan escaped from his throat, and I couldn't help but flash him a daring smile.

# "Julie Little," he said, shaking his head, "I will hold you, love you, kiss you, and protect you forever. That's a promise."

# And with that, our lips fell together again. Luke held me close against his tight body. Even through the layers, I could feel the heat radiating between us. We were lost in a kiss that felt far too right, and completely unbreakable ... until the front door swung open and Lonnie stood at the threshold.

# Luke and I pulled away, both staring forward at Lonnie.

# "Lonnie," I tried to keep my tone formal despite his overly eccentric Christmas sweater. I wanted to laugh, God I wanted to. But Luke nudged me with his elbow, and I straightened up. "I hope it's okay that I brought a date?"

# Luke's father eyed him, and the two men stared at each other for a few long seconds—neither one wearing an expression to indicate what would happen next.

# When Luke raised his hand to invite a handshake from his father, Lonnie shook his head.

# "No," he took a step onto the porch.

# They stood a foot away from each other, both of them staring. Luke gnawed on his bottom lip; Lonnie breathed heavily. And without a moment's notice, they fell into each other's arms. Lonnie wrapped his son in a hug big enough, warm enough, and assuring enough to last until the end of time. The two men held on to each other for so long I couldn't keep track of the minutes.

# "Welcome home, Lucas," Lonnie finally said through heavy sobs as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his flashy sweater.

# Arm-in-arm, the two men walked into the house to join Grace, Bruno, Charlie, Matt, Kara, and the rest of the party.

# I turned and looked out at the snow, watching as it picked up. I reached up and held the key, which I'd made into a necklace, and closed my eyes. I wished Derek a silent Merry Christmas, wherever he was. And then I turned into the house to be with the people I loved... refusing to waste a single breath from that moment on.

# For the first time in a long time, my heart was right at home.

#

# [ END OF PART 1 ]

# Series titles by Tracie Puckett:

# Webster Grove

# Just A Little/A Little Beyond

# Breaking

# Letters From Morgantown

# Sutton Woods

#

#

# Tracie Puckett, writing as Jos Pierce:

# Love Online

# The Next Best Thing

# One Step Forward

# All Hail The Queen

# Look For The Stars

# What Might Have Been

# What Love Looks Like

#

#

# Dear readers,

# Thank you for downloading this ebook! If you enjoyed this story, please follow me on Facebook and Instagram for news on upcoming books and series! And don't forget to look out for other YA romance titles under my pen name, Jos Pierce! Thank you for reading!

# Xo,

# Tracie

# www.facebook.com/traciepuckettnovels

# www.instagram.com/traciedpuckett

