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I couldn’t look away from that blush, had never been able to; something about the way she wore her feelings so apparent on her skin was such a damn turn on, I was hard as a rock every time I teased her — which was about as often as it was awkward.

As it was, I was having a hard time keeping myself in check; if my pants were any tighter, I was going to have to have a talk with my zipper and the way it kept rubbing.

I opened up my old truck door for her. The one I’d driven in high school, not the one that was currently sporting a missing door. I figured it would be best to just drive the thing and risk more injuries to something older. My parents would kill me if I ruined their new Benz. I didn’t want to take the chance that the universe was still against me.

I got in on my side and fired up the engine.

It still smelled the same, like old gasoline and spearmint gum.

My eyes fell to the heart she’d drawn in permanent marker on the steering wheel with her name on it. It had been my reminder that I had special cargo next to me, and that I needed to keep it safe at all costs.

And I had.

Not one ticket.

Maddy glanced over at me. Her eyes fell to the space between us that she used to fill. I’d hated her sitting far away.

I bit down on my lip. If we were going to do this, we needed to do it right. With a sigh, I grabbed her leg and pulled her body toward the center. She came without a fight. My hands shook as I reached for the steering wheel and then her hand was on my thigh as if nothing had changed in the last decade.

When everything had.

The smell of the truck, of her, of the memories slamming into me, was almost too much. I squeezed my eyes shut and inhaled.

“Let’s go,” I said with a weary sigh, trying like hell not to react to her touch and trying even harder to keep my anger and resentment on hold. If she could do this, I could do this. After all, I needed to get over her, over us. I needed to see that it wasn’t the same anymore. We’d grown apart. We were different people.

Closure meant I could move on. Really move on.

And I needed that more than I realized.

Because the minute I started driving down the road, my heart sprang to life in my chest. Ten years I’d been holding onto this dream of her, of us.

It was damn time to let go.