1
My best friend,Lara, slides the last shot of tequila onto the bar and grins at the crowd packed in around us with laughter, music, and bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder. The Wild Cantina hums.
Lara couldn’t resist throwing a celebration. Not when there’s something worth marking.
I’m officially a police officer.
The words still feel strange in my head, as if I borrowed them from someone else’s life. I would’ve said I didn’t want the fanfare. But honestly, I wanted the excuse to come back to Echo Valley, even just for this one night of celebration.
Ilove it here.
That’s the part I never say out loud.
I didn’t move back to LA because Echo Valley was the problem.
Iwas.
When I decided to become an officer, I told myself I had to do it somewhere bigger than here. Somewhere that felt like it counted more.
Still, being back here settles into me in a way I didn’t expect. Friends. Familiar faces from the ranch.
The crowd closes in on me for yet another round on the house, shot glasses lined up, warmth gathering around me.
Lara lifts her tiny glass. “To LAPD’s newest officer,” she announces.
Tequila sloshes in the air as people clink glasses, and a dribble finds its way onto my shoulder. The whole Mendez crew and half the town chime in with what is clearly a rehearsed cheer. “To Officer Johnson!”
It’s been a full night already. Someone brought a piñata shaped like a police badge and filled it with tiny donut-shaped candies. There was even a cake—frosted handcuffs and all—that Luis insisted was “thematic,” but given he runs a spicy book club, it hit different.
We’ve line-danced our way through two country playlists, as well as a Beyoncé set Lara put together for me, and watching some of these country boys get down and dirty had me laughing until my cheeks hurt.
I smile and take in the noise around me, trying to stay in it. I let the noise wash over me but feel something tight and restless twist low in my gut.
The alcohol has calmed some of the nerves, but mostly, my stomach’s been doing laps all night waiting for Anton to walk through the door.
In a lot of ways, he’s the reason this even happened. If hehadn’t pushed when I hesitated, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.
I already said thank you once when I graduated. Over text.
Saying it to his face is another thing entirely.
Especially when he’s close. When my body starts remembering things my head keeps trying to forget.
Despite knowing I’ll be weak in the knees all over again when he arrives, I can’t wait to thank him in person for this.
Anton was the one who let me tag along on stakeouts, who answered a million questions about clues and motives without ever making me feel stupid. The one who listened when I admitted I wanted to do something that mattered. The one who told me about open enrollment at the Academy.
Even though he’d added,Not that I want you to leave.
I clung to that statement a little too hard because whenever we were together, I didn’t want to leave either.
Long hours in the car, easy conversation—it took effort not to cross a line. Being around him stretched me. Made me feel like maybe I could grow into something bigger simply by staying close enough.
But being more actually meant leaving.
I hadn’t expected it to hurt to leave. Roots aren’t supposed to grow that fast.
But sometimes, the right decisions have unpleasant consequences. I know my search for meaning wouldn’t stop in a one-horse town. Even if that horse is a stallion…a six-five, hot-as-fuck stallion…
