Page 5

T oday is the day—I’m on my way to see Claire.

Surprisingly, I’m not even nervous.

Well, okay, maybe I am a little uneasy.

But it’s not too bad.

I’m actually feeling more excited to see her after all these years.

I wonder if she’ll look the same. There was always something more about her, something not captured in mere photos.

I guess I’ll know soon enough, as I’m almost at her house.

The GPS in my Range Rover directs me to turn left, then drive straight ahead about twenty yards.

Shit, I’m here.

Claire has a cute little place—a bungalow-style structure that sits back from the road. Not that she’s on a busy street or anything. The area is basically a small suburban neighborhood.

It seems pretty quiet, too, as there’s no one around.

Still, I better pull over and park.

I do exactly that, and then I cut the engine.

Now I’m a little nervous.

I look in the rearview mirror as I rake my fingers through my messy dark blond hair. Maybe I should have gotten a trim first. At least I shaved.

Yeah, all nice and smooth.

I also made sure to wear my nicest faded jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that my last girlfriend told me really brings out the color of my eyes.

Hey, she seemed to like it.

Maybe Claire will too.

Okay, enough stalling .

I hop out of my SUV and stride up to Claire’s front door. With no hesitation, I ring the doorbell.

The nerves are dissipating. I’m now feeling pretty confident and beyond pumped to see my old friend.

But unfortunately, no one is coming to the door.

I try knocking, but still, there’s nothing.

Fuck.

She must not be home.

My big plans are a bust.

I walk away and get back in my vehicle.

But I’m not deterred.

On the way back home, I think about when I should try this again—tomorrow, later today?

As I reach my house, I notice there’s a dark gray Toyota sports car parked out front. It’s one of those GR86 models. They look pretty fancy with the swooped hood and recessed headlights, but I don’t think they cost a whole lot.

Still, it’s nice.

But why is this mystery car parked across from my house?

There’s nothing down here besides my home. Beyond the turnaround, there’s just desert and mountainous terrain.

But, wait, there are some trails.

Maybe someone came here to hike.

I don’t know.

Whatever.

Shaking my head, I pull into my driveway.

And suddenly… fuck!

Some chick with chestnut-brown hair almost steps into my path.

Good thing I hit the brakes and skid to a stop.

The girl steps back in the nick of time.

Damn, that was close.

With my heart racing, I place the Rover in Park and jump out to see if this chick is all right.

That gray car must be hers. Maybe she’s a solicitor of some sort, or even someone from the real estate agency checking to see how I’m settling in.

And, fuck, I almost just ran her down.

Great.

This day is turning into a mess.

I rush around to the front of my vehicle, and the first thing my eyes are drawn to is how the girl’s hand is placed over her heart.

I’m sure this is to calm herself down, seeing as I almost took her out.

Man, I do feel bad.

Just as I’m about to see if she’s okay and apologize, I finally take a look at her face.

Holy shit!

Is it really her?

“Claire?” I say softly.

It is her.

This is not a dream.

Man, I can’t believe it.

She looks the same, just a little older. But hard as it is to believe, she’s even prettier, just like in her business profile photo.

Still, is this really happening?

Her hand is still over her heart, like it’s frozen there now.

But then she looks at me and says, “Oh my God. Easton.”

I think she’s as surprised to see me as I am to see her.

But I don’t know why. She is at my house, after all, which leads me to ask, “What are you doing here?”

Her face falls as she moves her hand from her chest and quickly crosses her arms in a protective stance.

I immediately feel awful.

“Man, I suck,” I say, raking my fingers through my hair. “I didn’t mean it like that. First, I almost run you over, then I make you feel bad for being at my house.” I take a step closer, my voice lowering. “And, Claire, I don’t ever want you to feel bad for being at my place. I’m fucking thrilled that you’re here. In fact, I was just at your house looking for you.”

Her brows shoot up, and she drops her arms to her sides. “You were?” she asks.

I smile. “Yep, I sure was.”

Still seemingly amazed that I was at her house looking for her, she blurts out, “But why?”

Laughing, I shrug. “I don’t know. Why not, right? I mean, I’m back in Phoenix now, and I guess I kind of was curious as to how you’re doing.” I raise a questioning brow. “Now it’s your turn. Why are you doing the same thing? Looking me up, that is.”

I really am amazed that she’s here standing in front of me.

It’s like a dream—a dream come true.

She shrugs like I just did.

Clearly, we’re both nervous.

Softly, she replies, “I guess I have pretty much the same reason. I heard you were picked up by the Bears—congratulations, by the way.” I nod in response, and then she goes on. “Anyway, it’s been so long. I just wanted to see you, Easton.”

“I like your honesty,” I say, because I do.

She nods. “This is how we always were. Honest with each other.”

“True,” I agree.

Her pretty hazel eyes hold mine, and she smiles.

Oh hell, my heart just skipped a fucking beat. She does still have that “something special” about her.

I smile back, and then, shaking my head, I say, “What a greeting, though, huh? You come to see me, and I almost run you over. I’m sorry about that again.” I frown. “You are okay, right?”

I feel like a jerk that it’s taken me this long to ask.

She waves her hand around and pshaws. “I’m fine, Easton.”

“You sure?”

She laughs. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Good, good.” I blow out a breath and then give her more honesty. “It is damn good to see you. No,” I amend, shaking my head, “it’s fucking great. Hell, you look fantastic, Claire.”

She chuckles, and I feel like the ice is finally breaking.

“You look pretty good yourself, Easton,” she replies.

I take a chance and walk toward her. She meets me in the middle, and we hug.

Fuck, if this isn’t one of the best hugs I’ve ever experienced in my life. She’s warm and soft in all the right places, and my body wants to hold her like this forever.

Okay, my body—well, certain parts—wants more than just that. But more importantly, in my heart, which is what I concentrate on, I feel all the caring I once had—and clearly still have—for my onetime best friend in the entire world.

And that demands more honesty.

So I say quietly into her hair that’s warm from the sun, “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she replies as she relaxes and melts into me.

Ahh, this is nice.

“It’s been too long,” I murmur.

“It has.”

We stay like this for a while, just holding each other.

I don’t know how much time passes, but we finally break away and take a very small step back.

Looking down at her, my hands still on the sides of her waist, I ask, “Do you want to come in so we can catch up?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’d like nothing more than that.”