“I agree.” Becky quirks her brow, giving me a pointed look. “Gotta make them work for it. But some things? They’re unforgivable.”
My throat bobs as I swallow. She heard every single word of that conversation with Damien, and she isn’t even trying to hide it. Although, really, Damien sure as hell didn’t make it hard for her to overhear it.
“No, they’re not.” I let out a sigh. “I’ll see you ladies later.”
“Don’t forget about this weekend!” Rose calls just as my phone buzzes to life again with an incoming call. This time, I check the screen first.
Damien.
“Seriously?”
Gritting my teeth, I press the decline button. I’m not in the mood for another screaming match when I need to get in the car and get to work.
I reach for the door handle as I slip my phone into my bag, ready to get on the road. The bell chimes before my fingers can even reach the doorknob, and I collide with a hard body. The force of the impact knocks the air from my lungs. Hands reach for me, fingers curling around my shoulders and holding me in place, a zap of electricity shoots through me at the touch.
“Shit.I’m so sor—” I look up, my eyes meeting the piercing brown depths I haven’t seen in four years. My knees buckle, fingers tightening around the cup I’m holding, as an icy chill runs down my spine.
“Matthew.”
My heart beats wildly inside my chest as I just stare at him.
It can’t be real.
Hecan’t be real.
Matthew Williams left Bluebonnet Creek when I was seventeen, and he hasn’t been back since.
Four years.
Thump-thump-thump.
His eyes flare in surprise, the recognition shining in his irises. The blood rushes through my veins, making my ears buzz and dulling all the other noises around us.
Thump-thump-thump.
Four long years.
Thump-thump-thump.
Time seems to slow down and speed up simultaneously. My palms are sweaty. Heart racing. Knees weak.
Thump-thump-thump.
I imagined this moment so many times in the first weeks and months after he left. Thought about what I would say. What I would do. How I would look. But in none of the scenarios was it ever like this.
And then he says one word, his voice a low rasp that makes goosebumps rise on my skin.
One word, and I’m that seventeen-year-old girl all over again.
“Trouble.”
CHAPTER TWO
MATTHEW
“Trouble.”
My fingers squeeze her shoulders, my skin burning from the simple touch. My throat feels tight, mouth dry, as I just stare at her, unable to believe this is real.
