“RJ?” I brighten. “That reminds me! He said to wish you a bad case of the shits.”
“¡Me cago en su madre!”
“It’s so cute how you guys pretend to hate each other’s guts.” I smile. “Anyway, I’m outta here. ¡Cuídate!”
“Tú también. And if you ever decide to come home, call me. We can get married.”
I tap the side of my head, like I’m committing it to memory, and turn back to my car.
I’m ready to hit the road and get the hell out of here, but some guy’s slouched against my trunk—eyes cast downward, a faded cap pulled low over his curly brown hair.Great timing.
I did everything I could to forget him, but I guess we were destined to cross paths tonight. News travels fast here, I know—some things never change. It was easy to put him out of mind in Sycamore, but now that I’m back here, I’m stuck.
Even when my fingers brush against the door handle, he doesn’t look up.
“A little bird told me Amy Hitman was running a race. Right here in town.”
That voice.It’s unmistakably him.
“I could hardly believe it,” he says.
“Been a while, Esteban.”
“Been eight months. I tried calling you… way too many times than is healthy.”
He tilts his face up to meet my gaze, and his green eyes spark something in me.
“You just vanished, baby.”
I know. I know I did.
“It was time for me to get out of town,” I say simply. “I was treading water here; I was messing up. My life would’ve been screwed if I’d stuck around.”
“I’ve missed you, Amy. You broke me when you left,” he says softly.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice is whispering that I’ve missed him, too. But that voice isn’t one I answer to anymore.
“I was worried,” he continues.
“You knew where I was.”
The second I say it, I wish I could take it back, because it sounds like I’m giving him an in, nudging open some invisible door. I would never want Esteban to come looking for me in Sycamore Heights. He stands for everything I left behind me.
A smile plays on his lips.As sexy as ever…
He takes a step toward me, and the memories come flooding back. I suddenly feel powerless to stop him.
“Don’t tell me you’re heading back already?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. Raven wants me home.”
He laughs. “You think I was born yesterday? Raven doesn’t know you’re here, Amy.” He brushes a hand through my hair, his fingertips whispering against the nape of my neck. “It’s late. Why not spend the night with me? For old times’ sake.”
Whatever we were back in the day, it wasn’t exactly deep, but I can’t help how my body instinctively responds to him, how comforted I feel by just how familiar this all is. It’s easier than Lewis—easier than the unknown.
Lewis.
I take a step back and yank open the car door, putting up a barrier between us.
