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“Nope…” he shrugged. “This backpack is the result of too much beer, followed by whiskey and a few shots of tequila, unmanly confessions, and Colt’s big fat mouth.”

“Oh great…” I laughed. “He has enough dirt on both of us to make me nervous.”

Jason snorted. “And yet he’s been sitting on the dirt all this time. Kinda makes a man worried.” He nodded toward the high school. “Shall we?”

“How do you know where to go?” I wondered out loud.

“I follow the memories,” was his answer.

I stopped walking and crossed my arms. “What do you mean, you follow the memories? We have memories everywhere, including the local jail.”

He looked uncomfortable as he glanced away and then over my head, refusing to make eye contact. “He said our first stop was the police station, and I’d know where to go next. The day we set off firecrackers was the day—”

“Stop.” My eyes widened. “No, he wouldn’t, right? He’s not…” It was my turn to get nervous. I stuck my finger into my mouth and chewed off one nail, then another.

Jason smirked. “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it back at the police station with the firecrackers,” I said in a deadpan voice. “We’re twenty-seven. We can’t just…” I gulped.

“Exactly.” He squeezed my hand briefly. “We’re twenty-seven. We can do whatever the hell we want.”

I shouldn’t have squeezed back.

I did anyway.

My hand itched with need to touch his palm again.

I knew in my soul…

It was going to change me, that one touch.

I also knew I wasn’t ready for a change of that magnitude.