Most people dream about getting out of Sharon, Nebraska,

but after three years away, Lauren Barrett is coming home. She has her reasons—missing her family, losing her college scholarship. But then there’s the reason Lauren can’t admit to anyone: Rob Conrad, her best friend’s older brother.

Football prowess and jaw-dropping good looks made Rob a star in high school. Out in the real world, his job and his relationships are going nowhere. He’s the guy who women love and leave, not the one who makes them think of forever—until Lauren comes back to town, bringing old feelings and new dreams with her.

Because the only thing more important than figuring out where you truly belong is finding the person you were meant to be with.

Also available from Ann Aguirre and Mira Ink

I Want It That Way

Coming soon

The Shape of My Heart

As Long

As You

Love

Me

Ann Aguirre

www.miraink.co.uk

For Viv, who really is all the good.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Booklist

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Bonus Scene

Playlist for As Long As You Love Me

Acknowledgments

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

It would be hard to argue with anyone who called me a failure.

By twenty-one, I’d lost my college scholarship, passed up a great guy and moved back in with my mom. Who was glad to see me, but it wasn’t the glorious homecoming I’d dreamed of when I packed my bags three years ago. Still, even flavored with regret, I couldn’t deny a certain happiness about being home. Sharon, Nebraska, wasn’t much, just a tiny dot on the map. The downtown had all of six stores, and there were no shopping centers at all, at least not without driving forty miles, unless you counted the Walmart. We had McDonald’s and Pizza Hut, a roadhouse, two bars and a place called Patty’s Pancakes. Not surprisingly, they specialized in pancakes. The Grove was the only fancy place, a restored historic site; none of my dates had ever taken me there. But the smallness of the town meant everybody knew you, and there was some comfort in the familiarity and the gossip.

At the moment, my life was kind of a mess—but as I unpacked the last box, I sighed in relief. No more classes, no more faking interest in my alleged future when I talked to my best friend and roommate, Nadia. It used to be hard as hell, pretending everything was okay when my life was imploding. Yet even though I couldn’t share what I’d been going through, I’d miss Nadia; she was still in Michigan while I’d returned to Sharon to start over.

My mom tapped on the open door. “I didn’t really change anything. We can paint if you want or I could make new curtains.”

“That sounds fun.” I wasn’t being sarcastic. This room hadn’t been redecorated since I was thirteen, and the lavender was a little much. Not to mention the full-on princess theme going on here, between the white and gold furniture, the fluffy purple rug, all of my stuffed animals and a bookshelf overflowing with fantasy novels featuring knights and orphaned heiresses. The floral print bedspread and curtains made me want to crawl under the ruffled bed skirt and stay there.

“What did you have in mind?” Mom asked.

She looked great; the transformation I’d noticed when I’d last seen her at Thanksgiving had continued. It was now February and she’d lost that final twenty pounds, so if anything, she was slimmer than me. That should probably agitate me, but it was so good to see her rebounding. After my dad left, I thought she was wrecked permanently.

“White on the walls, red plaid curtains?”

“Could be cute. Bedspread?”

“To match the curtains, if you can make one. Or would that be too much?”

She cocked her head, thinking about it. “Probably not, as long as you don’t do patterns on the pillows as well.”

“I didn’t plan to.”

“I’m so happy you’re here. Even if it means things didn’t work out at Mount Albion.” She was careful not to state it aloud—that I flunked out of school, came home in disgrace, or at least, that was the talk around town. The worst of the church ladies whispered that I was pregnant, too.

“Thanks.” I gave Mom a quick hug. “Can I borrow the car?” So weird to be asking that. “I need a few things.”

“Not a problem. Can you pick up milk and eggs?” Her eyes sparkled as they met mine, conveying her awareness of how many times we’d enacted this same scene when I was in high school.

“It’s the least I can do.” I paused a beat, as she expected, then added, “Wait, no, that would be nothing. But then I don’t get the car keys.”

“Right again.” She led the way downstairs and dropped them into my open palm. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I grinned, gesturing at my messy up-do and grungy gray sweats. “It’s tough when you look like this, but I’ll try not to break any hearts.”

Mom smirked. “See you later, Lauren.”

It was half past three on Saturday afternoon as I skipped down the front steps. The house, a two-bedroom shotgun style, looked better than it had in years. Though my mom hadn’t admitted it yet, I suspected she had a guy coming around for upkeep and repairs, maybe more. She might think it would be awkward to tell me she was dating again, but in my view, it was past time. My dad had been gone for ten years, and the divorce had been final for eight. By no means could this be considered a sudden development.

I got into the old Plymouth and started it up. It made sense for me to buy my own car, but I couldn’t afford it at the moment. Ten minutes later, I pulled into the Safeway parking lot. Since I needed lotion and deodorant, I’d get milk and eggs at the same time. No reason to drive farther for more choices. As kids, we used to do crazy shit in the parking lot, mostly because there was nothing else to do. I remembered drinking behind the store and Nadia pushing me around in a shopping cart until management came out to yell at us.

The nostalgia that swept over me was deep and rich; no matter where I went, this would always be home. To a lot of people, Sharon seemed stifling, I guessed, a complete dearth of opportunities, but I hoped to get into computer science and land a job where I could telecommute. I’d always been more into fiddling with programs and apps than anyone else I knew, but I also had causes. So I tried the latter first and discovered I hated it enough to start over, even if it meant losing momentum on the academic track. Nobody knew this—and I’d never admit it—but the reason I flunked out was because I stopped trying. People always seemed to think I must be dumb, possibly because I’m blond and curvy. And that pissed me off.

Six cars in the lot—I counted them as I went inside. No need for a cart. I picked a wheeled basket instead and got the groceries before heading to the small cosmetics section. There, I found Nadia’s brother. As ever, my pulse went into overdrive and my knees went soft. I’d always had this reaction to him; too bad he treated me like an honorary sibling.

Belatedly I noticed he was deliberating the merits of two body sprays. They were both that terrible, smelly stuff that commercials claimed would make guys irresistible to the ladies but really reeked like chemical muskrat death. I mustered some normal and stopped peering around the shelf at him.

“Neither,” I said, stepping into sight. “Please? Have mercy, seriously.”

Rob glanced up in surprise. “Not good, huh?”

“Your sweat smells better, I promise.”

“That’s a weird thing to say, Lauren.” His expression was unreadable, but that was no surprise. Nadia always compared her brother to a tree stump.

I suspected he was more like one of those giant sequoias. There might be all kinds of things going on, but you’d never climb high enough to see it. The worst thing about Robert Conrad? In eighth grade, I had a killer crush on him. He was a senior in high school at the time, lettered in both football and basketball, while I was a chubby little grease spot with braces and a terminal case of the stutters anytime he spoke to me. We’d both moved on from those awkward days, but any time I ran into him, I felt thirteen again, nerves jangling like a car alarm.

In some cases, time was unkind to high school athletes. They lost their hair and muscle tone. But the opposite was true of Rob. He worked construction alongside his dad, and at twenty-five, his shoulders were so broad that I wanted to climb him. Not with the giggly uncertainty of junior high, either. He was all solid muscle, great guns, ripped abs and incredibly defined deltoids. When you added chiseled features, strong jaw, blue-gray eyes and dark hair, it was hard not to drool. But it was so wrong to think that way about my best friend’s brother. I had no idea if he’d noticed my crush back in the day, but if so, he was kind enough to ignore it and not tease me. I’d slept with other guys since then, enjoyed sex just fine, but I still tingled whenever he was nearby.

Yeah, I’m taking that secret to my grave.

“You’re staring.”

Shit. I was.

“Sorry, I was considering some better options for you, cologne-wise, but I don’t think you’ll find anything here.”

He sighed and put the two sprays back. “Avery should buy it then. Because I have no idea what she’s talking about.”

“What did she say?”

My fist balled up, a knee-jerk reaction to hearing about his girlfriend. They’d started dating back in the fall and were still together, apparently. At Thanksgiving, I’d gone home with Nadia, who’d invited my mom and me over to Casa Conrad to eat. Watching Rob with Avery, it had been all I could do not to yank her hair out. She was so beautiful—model thin, with natural red hair, green eyes and the sort of face I’d call ethereal; she could dress up as Titania, the fairy queen, and totally pull it off. That day, he’d taken such great care of her, filling her plate, making sure she had a drink and was never just sitting, lonely. Seeing that made me ache.

“She wants me to be more upscale.”

“What are you, a trendy eatery?”

In my opinion, Rob didn’t need improving. He was rocking those Levi’s, along with a blue plaid flannel shirt and navy down vest. No, he wasn’t a GQ guy, but why the hell would any woman want that from him? Also, I kind of wanted to hug him, if he thought he could buy “upscale” at Safeway.

He laughed. “Not hardly.”

It might not be any of my business, but... “Don’t change for her, okay? You’re great the way you are.”

His eyes widened. Not for the first time, I noted that his irises were a swirl of charcoal and mist with specks of blue, fringed by ridiculously thick black lashes. In a face without such a strong nose and firm chin, those eyes would make him too pretty. When I had sleepovers at Nadia’s, back in high school, I imagined him cornering me and shoving me against the wall, overcome by his unspoken longings. That was pretty much my favorite fantasy when I was sixteen, but Rob never gave any sign he suffered from ungovernable passion.

Too bad.

“That’s not true,” he said quietly.

A little flicker in his eyes, a twist of his mouth, and I got the impression that he was incredibly sad. He didn’t have an expressive face, and truthfully, his at-rest look suggested he didn’t have much going on in his brain box. Behind his back, people had been calling him the quintessential dumb jock for as long as I could remember. The girl he went out with in high school dished about his body, but she never mentioned any other traits. In my rich fantasy life, I’d never wondered about his thoughts or feelings, either, and staring up at him now, a pang of remorse went through me.

“I disagree. But don’t take my word for it,” I said breezily. “I’m just the idiot who flunked out of Mount Albion.”

“Bullshit. You were always on the honor roll along with Nadia. You’re only here because you want to be.”

I was astonished into silence for a few seconds, then I rallied. “That’s a bold statement. What about the love child I’m having?”

His gaze swept down my body, quietly intense. “Nope.”

I wished I was wearing anything but sweats and that my hair wasn’t a bird’s nest. But he’d known me since I was seven, and he’d never seen me as a potential anything, so that was pointless regret. A dress or a hairstyle wouldn’t change a lifetime of indifference.

“I should get going,” I said. “My mom’s waiting for the milk and eggs.”

Clearly, I should win a prize for clever comments. But Rob nodded like I didn’t sound like a sixteen-year-old dipshit with a specialization in being weird around boys. Which was so messed up; at school, the one damn thing I excelled at was witty banter, making guys laugh. I was fucking popular at Mount Albion.

“You doing anything tonight?” he asked.

Huh? Somehow I managed not to let my jaw drop open. “Not really. I just got unpacked and most of my friends from high school are gone.”

“Avery’s visiting her cousin in Omaha this weekend, so I thought maybe you want to split a pizza. I don’t feel like cooking.”

Wow. This is definitely not a date.

“Sounds good,” I said. “What time?”

“Five-thirty?”

“Sure. You remember where I live?” He’d driven me home a few times when Nadia called him to rescue us from out-of-control parties, but I didn’t imagine those occasions made much impression on him.

To my surprise, he nodded. “Out on Dover Road still, right?”

“Yep, that’s the place.” With a friendly wave, I pulled my basket past him and went to the checkout lane.

I kept the excitement in check until I got into my car, then I full-out screamed. My favorite high school memory involved Rob pulling up at a farmhouse, drunken teenagers all over the yard. I’d stumbled outside with a guy who was wasted enough that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. The dude pushed me against the garage, his mouth loose and wet on my neck, while I shuddered and shoved at him. In the next instant, he wasn’t touching me anymore. Rob yanked him off and took him out with one punch. Then he put a gentle hand on my shoulder and helped me to the car. He’d always protected me like a little sister, but I responded to it differently than Nadia. She was impatient over his protective streak, sharp and annoyed, while I wanted to make out with him instead of the high school boys on offer. I’d spied on him kissing his girlfriend, and it fueled my fantasies for, like, two years.

Telling myself not to be stupid, I drove home and put away the groceries. My mom was getting ready for a date, which proved I was right about Mr. Handyman. I propped myself in the doorway to the bathroom and watched her put on lipstick.

“So when do I get to meet him?”

She flushed. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. It’s good to see you happy.”

“There’s leftovers in the fridge—”

“Don’t worry about it. Rob’s picking me up in an hour.”

“Nadia’s brother?” Her brows shot up. “Isn’t he dating that awful Jacobs girl?”

Sharon didn’t have much of an upper class, but Avery Jacobs definitely belonged to it; she wore nothing but name brands and had a driver who made sure she never rode the bus. In school, her nose had been so far in the air, it was a wonder she didn’t drown during a rainstorm. Nadia had been friends with her when we were younger, but I never was, and I liked Avery less when she ditched Nadia as soon as the cliques formed in junior high.

“She’s out of town, and it’s just pizza. He probably feels sorry for me, what with my mom having a better social life and all.” I grinned to show I was teasing.

She threw a cotton ball at me. “That’s not funny. If you knew how long I waffled over telling you about Stuart...”

“So that’s his name.”

“He sells insurance,” Mom said. “You’d think that makes him boring, but he’s very sweet.”

“No need to convince me. I need a shower, though, if you’re almost done in there.”

“No problem. I can finish my makeup in the kitchen.”

Damn. She’s pulling out all the stops.

Though it wasn’t a date, I did the same. An hour later, I had on my best jeans, a blue sweater that framed my boobs perfectly, plus my favorite leather jacket. I also did my eyes to full bam, straightened my hair and put on awesome knee boots. Rob pulled into the driveway right on time, so I yelled bye to my mom and bounded down the steps. He drove a newish red pickup, though I wasn’t into vehicles enough to be sure of the make or model.

He was still in blue flannel, but I’d expected no less. As he had when I was a drunken senior, he went around to open my door. There were no running boards, and I was short, almost a full foot smaller than him; before I could clamber up, he set his hands on my waist and lifted, setting me on the passenger seat with the sort of casual strength that stole my breath.

“Wait, sorry, I should’ve asked before manhandling you.” He seemed dead serious, worried that he’d offended.

“It’s fine.” Or it would be if these shivers would stop. I could still feel the imprint of his hands at my waist.

“You’re not as touchy as Avery,” he said as he climbed in. “I haven’t done a single thing right for her in the last month.”

Maybe she’s not the right person for you. But if I said that, it would definitely come from an ulterior motive, because I’d be hard-pressed not to follow with, Maybe you should get naked with me instead. Then I’d die from the startled, awkward silence that followed. At worst, this was pity pizza; at best, it might be better-than-eating-alone pizza.

“Is something bothering her?” I asked, more curious than I cared to admit.

He paused, his expression clouding. “Seems like it, but I can’t get her to tell me.”

Since I wasn’t the confiding type, I understood her reticence. Which sort of pissed me off. I didn’t want to empathize with Avery. “Maybe she’s afraid you’ll think less of her if she whines to you about her problems?”

“I need to tell her that’s not true.” He let out a slow breath, obviously relieved at hearing there might be a simple solution.

“Anyway, there’s nothing to be tetchy about,” I said. “I’m vertically challenged, you helped me out. It’s all good.”

That won me a smile that simultaneously brightened his eyes and crinkled them at the corners. He jogged around the truck and climbed in, stretching his arm across the back of the seats to back out of my driveway. There was essentially no traffic, so we zoomed straight to Pizza Hut. The restaurant was nearly full, mostly families and a few high school students; we were lucky to snag a two-person booth tucked in the corner back near the bathrooms. When I was in high school, it was a huge deal when they installed the tiny salad bar here.

“So what do you like?” he asked, not bothering to open the menu.

You would’ve been the obvious answer, but I hadn’t come back to Sharon to let my first crush swell back into unmanageable proportions. So I replied, “Lots of meat.”

That was apparently the best news he’d had all day. Rob gazed at me as if I’d said he was the sexiest man on earth. “Meat lovers it is. Should we get salad, too?”

I grinned. “Should and will are wildly different. I’m living dangerously tonight.”

“The training wheels are coming off, huh?” He was smiling; the faint sorrow I’d noted at the supermarket seemed to have dissipated.

For a few seconds, I forgot who he was and answered with a flirty glance and a half smile. “Oh, they’ve been off. You have no idea how well I ride these days.”

Shock made him drop his straw as I fought the urge to bang my head on the table. Then he surprised me by laughing softly. “You had me going. Well played, Lauren.”

That’s me, a laugh riot. Send in the clowns. Oh, wait, I’m already here.

CHAPTER TWO

In the end, we were complete maniacs and got both the meat lovers pizza and a pitcher of root beer. I’d never eaten alone with Rob before, but as long as I remembered he had zero awareness of me, everything would be fine. I had two pieces and one glass of soda while he finished everything else. His metabolism must be awesome.

“So what’s next?” I asked, as we split the bill. Or rather, Rob consented to letting me pay a quarter of it since he ate and drank more than I did.

It was more of a general question than a demand he justify his life plan, but he straightened with a hint of tension. “What do you mean?”

“Are you taking me home, or are we headed to the roadhouse to cause some trouble?” That was highly improbable, but when he relaxed and shook his head, I was glad I went to the silly end of the spectrum.

“I was gonna drop you off, then work on my dining room,” he answered.

“Well, obviously. I think I’ll go home and do the same. I could totally get it to be more formal if it just focused a little and stopped watching so much daytime TV.”

That startled a quiet chuckle out of him, and I realized that until earlier today, I’d never really heard Rob laugh. The deep rumble of sound sent a pleasurable shiver through me, and I immediately wanted to make it happen again. At this point, I didn’t even care if that involved dressing up in an actual clown suit, complete with red nose and humungous shoes. In the past, I’d seen him smile, but he was so careful, guarded and tentative in his expressions—for reasons not entirely clear to me.

“I bought a house in December. When you were home before, I was still living with my parents. It’s a fixer-upper, and once I get done, I plan to flip it.”

“That’s when you restore a place, make it awesome, then sell for a profit, right?” I’d watched a few home makeover shows.

“I hope so. Dunno if Sharon is the right place for it, though.”

“Yeah, I imagine the market’s a bit sluggish here.”

“If I can’t sell it, I’ll have a nice place to live. So it’s not a loss.” He sounded faintly defensive, as if he’d explained this before, and with less success.

“Sounds like a good move. Plus you have the satisfaction of remodeling your house exactly the way you want it.”

He nodded, excitement sparking his expression. “I’ve already taken out a wall downstairs, opening up the layout from kitchen to dining room.”

“How much work have you done?”

That question acted on Rob like a key turning in a lock. He opened up with a click, telling me everything he’d done so far and what projects were yet to come. I was impressed by the time he finished his recitation because he’d obviously put a lot of thought and planning into this. Moreover, he didn’t intend to stop until he finished the house properly.

“It’s a little complicated to live there sometimes,” he said with a sigh. “With power tools and dust everywhere, I can’t get Avery to set foot inside. She says she’ll judge the results once I’m finished.”

“I bet it’s not that bad.” I mostly said that for the silent satisfaction of disagreeing with his girlfriend.

“You want to see it?” His invitation came as a surprising bonus.

“Sure. I’ll be able to visualize what you were saying better.”

“Sweet.” Rob studied the bill with a faint frown, likely trying to figure out the tip. So I plucked it from his fingers, skimmed the total and dropped four singles.

“You paid way more for dinner,” I said, as if that were why.

“Thanks.” Fortunately he let it drop.

Rob waited for me to precede him, a polite gesture that only made me like him more. Which I definitely didn’t need—I was already hauling around the weight of an old crush. If he insisted on being sweet and considerate, I didn’t know how I’d deal. As before, he settled me in his truck before he got into the driver’s seat, then instead of heading to Dover Road, he drove across town to the west side.

His house was on the outskirts of Sharon, off the highway instead of in a neighborhood like mine. The driveway was a quarter of a mile long, and the house was nestled in a small clearing with snowy trees framing it on either side. Everything was too wintry for me to judge the landscaping, but I liked what I saw of the side-gabled bungalow, from the deep eaves to the tall, stately chimney, and especially the front porch with its slender columns. It wasn’t huge, but definitely big enough for a porch swing.

“Watch your step,” he said as he got me out of the truck.

I could seriously get used to Rob touching me. My pulse fluttered as his hands lingered long enough to make sure I wouldn’t pitch face-first into the pile of dirty snow he’d shoveled to the sides of his driveway. It was impossible to restrain a smile, though, and he answered it with an unguarded friendliness I’d rarely seen. When he was goofing around with his teammates, he unlocked like this, but seldom with anyone else.

He went ahead to open the door, then he stepped back so I could come in. A flick of his wrist turned the overhead light on, and I saw what Avery might complain about. Everything was coated in a fine layer of dust, and there were tools everywhere, along with plastic sheeting. Raw beams showed through the wall he’d knocked down, and his kitchen had only a subfloor, while the hardwoods in the living and dining room needed refinishing. But I saw potential in the chaos; I spun in a slow circle. He’d already done a lot, considering it had only been a few months since he bought the place.

“It’s a mess,” he said, seeming slightly crestfallen, as if he’d expected there to be more tangible progress.

“No, I can envision how it’ll eventually look. What’s next in the dining room?”

He studied me for a few seconds, likely checking that I wasn’t feigning interest. Then he started a monologue on moldings, sparkling with enthusiasm for the project. He told me all about eighty versus a hundred grit sandpaper, that you could use a putty knife to work in tight corners, and how important it was to start with paper that fit the wood. I had zero experience with home repair, but he made it seem appealing. Of course, that could be his general hotness talking.

When he finally lost steam, he wore a chagrined look. “But you probably didn’t want to hear all of that. Sorry for boring you.”

“I did or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“You’re a strange girl.” He shook his head, smiling.

“I pride myself on it.” Moving a few paces toward the kitchen, I grinned at Rob. “So basically, when you said you didn’t feel like cooking, you meant heating soup on that hot plate.”

His kitchen was wrecked—no stove, ancient refrigerator, subflooring and all of the cabinets had been torn off. I’d be surprised if he had running water in there. Plastic draped the cupboards, giving the room a serial-killer vibe. But before my dad left, we’d had enough contractors in the house for me to understand this was par for the course.

“Pretty much. Though don’t underestimate the hot plate. You can do a lot in a wok.”

Smiling up at him, I teased, “Tell me more.”

“You’re making fun of me.” The warmth drained from his expression, and I didn’t understand until that moment how it felt to have Rob shine for me until the light went out.

“I am not. I’m seriously impressed you can cook anything on a hot plate.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” He was tentative, and I wondered if he’d always been this unsure of himself.

To the best of my recollection, Rob had never been a talker. He didn’t lead when he hung out with his sports buddies, and he didn’t say much when they joked around. That left me with little to go on, no sense of his ordinary self. Maybe he was always like this?

“Stop trying to decide what amazes me.” I poked him in the side. “I also gasp in awe over monkeys riding bicycles and parrots cussing in Portuguese.”

“Who doesn’t?” But his eyes had lightened, a faint smile playing at the corners of his truly kissable mouth, perfectly shaped in a manly bow.

If I didn’t say something, fast, the next words out of his mouth would be, I’ll run you home. “If you want, I can help with the sanding. That’s low-skill work, right?”

Rob stared at me. “It’s Saturday night. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

I wasn’t dressed for manual labor, but I didn’t want to leave. This had all the earmarks of a scenario I’d dreamt up multiple times in high school. Silently, I chided myself, He has a girlfriend. Be cool. You can be friends with Rob. It’s not a huge thing.

“Debatable. My mom’s out, so I’d just be watching cable.”

“If you say so.” He sounded skeptical, but he got the sandpaper and showed me how to use it like a pro.

I shrugged out of my jacket and glanced down at my sweater. “Do you have anything I could put over this?”

Though I hadn’t meant to draw attention to my boobs, he followed my gaze, and if I weren’t crazy, his gaze lingered for a beat too long, then a flush colored his cheeks, creeping toward his ears. Relatively few guys my age could be embarrassed by that; the vast majority were shameless. I loved that Rob wasn’t. There was a solid goodness about him that reminded me of Nadia, though not in a Single White Female sort of way.

“Sure, let me get you a work shirt.”

Once I had plaid flannel, his favorite thing, apparently, I went into the kitchen to swap shirts. Rob didn’t expect that, so when I came around the corner rolling up the sleeves, his eyes widened. “You could wear that as a dress,” he blurted.

“I suspect I’d be cold.”

“Do you want me to turn on some music?”

“Good idea.”

“What do you like?” That was the second time he’d asked me that tonight, more than any guy I’d ever dated, truth be told.

“Surprise me.”

He clicked his iPod into a dock safely stashed on a high shelf. The dining room had a hutch built into the wall, and I could picture how it would look once he refinished it, gleaming with age and care. It was the perfect place for a woman to display her fancy dishes. Not that I had any, but I admired beautiful craftsmanship. Rob fiddled with his music player, then Blue October popped from the speakers. I’d heard “Hate Me” before, but it wasn’t the kind of song I associated with Rob. If anyone had asked, I would’ve guessed uncomplicated country, maybe Garth Brooks or Shania Twain.

“I like this,” I said. “Sad, though. Do you have ‘Sound of Pulling Heaven Down’?”

He nodded. “It’s next in the playlist.”

I looked forward to learning what Rob listened to, left to his own devices. And he said Avery’s never been here, so you’re learning something about him she doesn’t know. After pulling off my boots, I got to work, sanding as Rob had showed me. It was hard on my back and knees, but there was an odd satisfaction in smoothing away the damage from years of neglect.

After working for a while in silence, I said, “There are deeper scratches here and they’re not coming off.”

Rob stopped what he was doing and knelt beside me to examine the baseboard. “Normally you sand with the grain, but you can go across at a forty-five-degree angle to work those down. We’ll go over the whole thing with a finer grit paper later anyway.”

We? Mentally I questioned the pronoun but I wasn’t silly enough to do it out loud. That would only make him tighten up again and if he let me, I’d definitely help out another time. Though I could build a website from the ground up in my sleep, I was unclear on what he meant—a ninety-degree angle was a full corner, so...

“Like this?”

“Almost.” He put his hands over mine and adjusted my strokes. His palms were big and rough, completely covering my fingers. Until just then, I didn’t realize how much I liked big guys; in Michigan, I’d mostly dated lean, pretty ones, though that was a kind interpretation of my social life. I specialized in partying and in hookups, not relationships. My mom’s misery biased me early on against the wisdom of letting a guy matter deep down.

“Okay, I’ve got it.” My arms actually hurt from the pressure, however. Bonus, helping Rob might tone my biceps. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” He retreated to his corner to work, and the iPod cycled through five more songs, an eclectic mix of David Gray, Josh Ritter, a band I’d never heard of—Good Old War—along with Snow Patrol, and most surprising of all, Enya. When she came on, singing about the evening star, my head jerked up and I stared at Rob. Never in a thousand years would I have credited this; I wondered if his football buddies knew.

He met my look with a sheepish shrug. “Her voice is haunting.”

I didn’t disagree, even if my tastes ranged more toward top forty. “I’m not a music snob, dude. In fact, I’ve lost all credit with most of my friends because, if it comes on the radio, nine times out of ten, I like it, even if critics say it’s terrible.”

“Miley Cyrus?” he challenged.

“Hey, ‘Wrecking Ball’ rocks. And I’ve been known to scrub my bathtub to ‘Party in the U.S.A.’” I wasn’t ashamed of liking popular tunes, so his grin didn’t bother me.

“Ke$ha?”

“Not my fave, but I don’t hate her. The duet with Pitbull is catchy, even if it doesn’t make any sense.”

As we sanded, he asked about random artists until I disclosed that there were only three pop songs I’d shut off: “Blurred Lines” by Robin Thicke, “Barbra Streisand” by Duck Sauce and “Loca People” by Sak Noel. Otherwise, I didn’t have elevated tastes or think some bands were cooler or more important than others.

“For some reason, I thought you’d be more like Nadia. She’s into stuff that hasn’t been discovered yet.”

“Are you calling her a hipster?”

Rob lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “If the chunky ankle boot fits...”

Given my best friend’s penchant for indie music and microbrewed beer, he wasn’t wrong. Still, I didn’t let him get off scot-free. “Like you should talk. I never heard of Good Old War until you played that song.”

“‘Looking for Shelter’? It’s a good one. And actually, Nadia was listening to them before she left for college. So—”

“You disclaim any credit for finding them. Suspicious.” I pretended to narrow my eyes, studying him in mock assessment. “I bet you could dig up indie bands if you tried.”

“Luckily I don’t have to. Nadia sends me emails with playlists she’s made, stuff she thinks I’ll like. She gets it right half the time.”

“I didn’t know that.”

He tilted his head. “Why would you?”

Once he asked, I felt like a dipshit. “You make a valid point.”

At that point, silence seemed like the best option, so I worked my way to the corner. The molding looked a lot better just from what I’d already done; Rob had finished two walls to my one. When I sat back on my knees, he straightened and came over to give me a hand up. With an easy tug, he hauled me upright. The motion brought me a little too close; I thumped against his chest and for a confused moment, I breathed in the clean scent of him, an incredible mix of wood shavings and wintry air.

“Sorry about that. We should take a break or you’ll get cramps. Want a beer?”

“Not really. Water’s fine.”

Rob opened a bottle and got me a glass of ice water, then he beckoned from the stairs. Curious, I followed him up; the hall was dark and cold, but then he opened a door, and I discovered the one room he’d completed. It was a good size, divided into living and sleeping, which made sense. I suspected this was where Rob spent his time if he wasn’t working. On the opposite wall, beside the window, he had a full-sized bed with a nightstand beside it, and he was using a bookshelf at the foot to divide the space. A couple of chairs sat centered on the other side, facing a small entertainment center to the left of the door.

None of the furniture in here was prefab; everything was real wood, polished to a high gloss. The floor gleamed around the edges of the area rug, and I dug my toes into the green plush. He’d painted the walls caramel, though he’d call it light brown, and there were blinds on the windows, unlike the rest of the house. An electric fireplace hung on one wall, providing light and warmth. I walked across the room to run my hand over the table, admiring the smooth finish.

“You like it?” he asked.

“Definitely, it’s great.” There were no drawers, only a lower shelf, but Rob didn’t have much clutter. The bookshelf held only a few magazines, along with a handful of change, receipts, bits and bobs he must’ve pulled out of his pockets.

His smile twisted me up. “That was the first thing I ever made. The bed’s mine, too. I put it together from salvage.”

Startled, I took a closer look; it was a slatted headboard, stained dark, attached to an impressive platform bed. But on closer inspection, I could see how he’d taken two railroad ties and covered them with plywood. Ingenious, really.

“Wow, you could seriously design furniture.”

“That’s the dream.” But he didn’t sound like he believed anyone would pay him for it. I totally would, though. It was solid and beautiful, just like Rob.

“How much to build me a bed like yours?”

I’d surprised him in the middle of a swig of beer. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, how much? My mom and I were just talking about redecorating my room.” We hadn’t mentioned a new bed, but it was my money.

“Twin or full?”

“Twin.” A pang of chagrin went through me because that was a kid’s bed, but I couldn’t afford a bigger one and a new mattress. At this rate he’d always see me as a little girl.

“A hundred bucks.”

I frowned at him. “That sounds low.”

Which he met with a melting smile. “You’re getting the friends-and-family discount...and hey, you’re giving me the satisfaction of serving my first customer.”

Somehow I didn’t flirt, didn’t say any of the cute things trembling on the tip my tongue. He has a girlfriend. That means he’s off-limits.

Rob building my bed was likely the closest I’d ever come to having him in it.

CHAPTER THREE

Monday, I saddled up the wild interwebs and sent my résumé to a dozen places.

I didn’t have high hopes for a day job, given my car situation, but it would drive me nuts to sit around waiting for summer session to start. I’d already decided against typical college enrollment. I hated sitting through lectures for many reasons, so University of Nebraska online fit the bill. I planned to apply for their information assurance program, transferring my general studies credits, so I needed the concentration courses...and maybe a few electives, depending on how things shook out. Their site promised that I could transfer up to sixty-four hours from Mount Albion, which was more than half of the 120-hour degree. Going part-time, it would take me three years or so to finish up, but it would be worth it, especially if I landed a job that let me stay in Sharon.

That took all of an hour. This chilly morning, my mom was at work, and I had no car. Buying one was a pipe dream, at least until I could afford gas and insurance. When Nadia was around, I never worried about it; in high school, I called her whenever I needed a ride, and it was the same in Michigan. My heart twisted when I thought about how sad she had been to learn I hated college, but the longer we went to Mount Albion, the clearer it became to me that it was her dream, not mine, and I was going through the motions. The more my grades dropped and dropped, the more I drank and partied, trying to hide my unhappiness.

Until I couldn’t anymore.

I had just over five hundred bucks in my checking account because I’d just deposited my last paycheck, but I owed half to my former roommate, Angus, in return for buying my plane ticket home. In a burst of financial genius, I’d promised another hundred to Rob to build me a bed. That left me relatively little to survive on until I found a job. The humiliation would kill me if my mom tried to give me an allowance. Though I was happy to be back in Sharon, sometimes it was hard to shrug off the stares and speculation.

With a faint sigh, I wrote out a check to Angus Starr. I’d often teased him that he totally had a porn star name. I miss you, dude. I wondered how my three former roomies were doing; they were all I missed about Michigan. I smooched the stamp when I stuck it on the envelope, then I wrote a card to go along with repayment. While Angus had a fat enough bank account not to miss a couple hundred bucks, I didn’t enjoy mooching off my friends. Sadly, walking out to the mailbox and raising the flag took care of my to-do list for the day.

I huddled deeper in my down jacket, turning back toward the house. Except a red truck slowed, then pulled into our gravel drive. I recognized Rob right away; I just had no idea what he was doing here at two on a Monday. The sky sputtered snow that drifted down in light, delicate flakes. If the ground wasn’t already frozen, this wouldn’t stick.

“I brought some stain samples,” he said in lieu of greeting.

Ah, so this was about the bed. “You should probably bring them inside. It’s really cold.”

“Thanks.” He followed me into the house while I tried to figure out how bad I looked on a scale of one to ten. Definitely better than when we ran in to each other at the Safeway, nowhere near as good as Saturday night.

Then I dismissed the question as absurd. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“Not at all.”

After dumping the old stuff my mom made this morning, I brewed a fresh pot, then poured him a cup. He laid some small boards on the table, touching and naming each in turn. “Oak, pine, mahogany, maple, red chestnut, cherry, walnut.”

“The red chestnut is beautiful.”

“Okay.” Rob put away the samples and took a sip of his coffee, relaxing into his chair with a pleased expression.

“We might have some cake, too, if you want.”

“Like I’d say no to cake.”

I took that as an invitation to rummage in the fridge and I came out with a couple of slices of German chocolate, which was my absolute favorite. My mom made it a few days ago in honor of me moving back in. I should probably be ashamed that there were only two pieces left. Mentally I shrugged and served him on the good plates.

“How come you aren’t at work? I know why I’m not.” I pointed at myself and whispered, “Unemployed,” like it was a curse word.

“I don’t do a lot in the winter,” he said, seeming surprised. “Spring and summer are better for construction, and I have to make my money last the whole year. I’m...not awesome at it.”

Hmm. Rob wasn’t the first person I’d known to struggle with that, but most of my friends were like, Whee, there goes my textbook money, while ordering another round of shots.

“You just need to divide your total income by twelve and work out how much you can spend monthly. It helps if you track expenditures and figure out where your disposable income goes. I could put together a spreadsheet.”

“That sounds complicated.”

Not to a computer girl. In my secret nerdy heart, I loved spreadsheets, pie charts, line graphs and all kinds of numbers. Once I made up a sex flow chart of everyone I’d slept with, and their partners that I knew of but that started to get weird, so I deleted the file. I’d be taking that secret to my grave.

“I don’t mind helping,” I said, mostly because I didn’t want to admit it would be easy, at least not with Rob looking like I’d confessed to speaking ancient Greek.

“What would you need?”

“Bank statements, basically. And you’d have to help me classify your expenses.”

“If you do that, I can’t let you pay for the bed.”

Oh, look, an excuse to spend hours with Rob. High School Me shouted in elation, but she also bitched about what a stupid reason it was to hang out with him. There was nothing sexy about formulating a monthly budget.

“Then a trade definitely benefits me.”

He nodded, finishing his cake. “Avery won’t be back from Omaha until next month, so this is a good time to figure things out.”

“I thought you said she was visiting her cousin for the weekend.”

A sigh escaped him. “Yeah, well, I got it wrong. She left early to spend time with her cousin. Then today, she started a management training seminar. She’ll be back in March. I think.” But he didn’t sound sure. “I have to really piss her off to get that tone.”

“Which one?”

“‘Jesus, do you even listen to a word I say’?” He captured her icy snap so well, a shudder went through me.

I can’t believe she talks to him like that.

Before I could decide how to respond, he went on, “It’s a good thing I’m hot, right?” Under most circumstances, that would qualify as a cocky remark—one that was supposed to make me laugh—but the underlying sadness I’d glimpsed in him before rebounded, lending him a stark, shadowed air.

I weighed my response before saying, “That’s not all you are, Rob.”

He got up and took his plate to the sink. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

Shock reverberated through me. I’d said the same thing in Michigan when I rejected a guy who wanted to date me. Luckily Rob’s back was to me, so he didn’t notice my reaction. I schooled my expression, so by the time he turned around, I was clearing the table.

“I’ve known you longer than Avery.” While they’d been dating since October, I had been wandering around his house since second grade.

“That’s true.”

In a tone I’d use for an oral report, I said, “When I was in fourth grade, you carried my science fair project to the gym for me, even though you had to walk six blocks to the junior high afterward, and you got detention. That same year, you got into a fight with Ellis Whitcomb over Melissa Fredericks. She would later become your first high school girlfriend, though not the last. That honor went to Katie Everett, who you dated right up until she left for college.”

And then she left without a second look. Maybe I should change this up.

“When I was a junior, you punched Kent Walker for me, and my senior year, you took me to see my dad for the first time in seven years.”

My mom still didn’t know about that, and at the time, I was so mad at her, sure it was her fault—that she’d driven him away somehow. I blamed them in stages, back and forth, like the clicking balls in a Newton’s cradle. Back then, Rob drove a different truck, an old green one passed down from his granddad, nicknamed Tessa Green-tea for reasons known only to Rob. I’d cornered him in the garage while he was working on the engine. Nadia had been upstairs doing homework, and she thought I’d gone to the kitchen for a snack. Instead, I’d slipped outside and shuffled around until Rob straightened and faced me.

At twenty-one, he’d been leaner, with less muscle built over years of summer construction jobs. “Need something?”

“I was wondering if you’d do me a favor.”

“Depends on what it is.”

My breath came out in a shaky rush. “I need to see my dad. I have to talk to him.”

I’d had a horrendous fight with my mom. Her apathy and apparent lack of self-respect—the way she could barely manage to go through the motions—had made me scream at her, Just look at yourself. I so get why he left you. I’d planned to race to my dad’s side and tell him I understood everything now and please, can’t I be part of your awesome new life? A fresh start away from the rumors about my mother’s sanity had sounded perfect, what I wanted most.

Rob had wiped his hands on a rag, then said, “What did your mom say?”

“She doesn’t know. Will you take me? I can give you gas money.” At the time, Nadia had her license and a car. I could’ve asked her to drive me but I was afraid she’d punk out and blab to my mom about the plan. Why I had no such fear with him, to this day, I didn’t understand.

“Why don’t you call him?”

“I just need to see him. Please, Rob?” What I didn’t tell him was that I didn’t plan on coming home. I’d live with my dad from then on; my mom could ship my clothes, presuming she could manage it. Whatever, I’d buy more. I just wanted out. Her depression had only made my issues worse, and it had been all I could do to sit through a school day. It would be different with my dad; everything would be fine.

In the end, Rob had sighed and agreed.

With his help, I found my dad, unemployed, living in a shitty apartment with some woman I’d never heard of, apparently raising a couple of her kids. One might’ve been his—I was too upset to get the facts straight. But the worst part was, he didn’t even look happy to see me. To him, I was a nuisance. He invited us in, but we didn’t stay longer than half an hour, after coming all that way. Out in the parking lot, I burst into tears and Rob just hugged me. He didn’t say anything at all, probably because he knew no words could make it better. So there was no way I’d let him disparage himself now when he’d been proving his worth my entire life.

“I remember that,” he said finally.

“Me, too.”

The silence between us was odd and fraught, laced with old memories. I wondered if he had any idea that I used to crouch beneath the banisters and watch him with Katie Everett. In my head, he was still the gold standard for kissing, just endless tenderness without rushing straight for boobs or butt. Though four of the eight guys I’d slept with were good in bed, none had that quintessential Rob patience, and if he’d been that way in high school, his control as a man must be awe-inspiring.

Lucky Avery.

I siphoned the bitterness out of the thought as he studied my face. I’d never noticed him doing that before, but I felt each shift and slip of his gaze, as if his eyes were zoom lenses. My heart thumped so hard in my chest that I was afraid he’d hear it. Really, I should be over this.

“Do you mind if I take some measurements in your bedroom?”

Do anything you want in there.

“Go ahead. I do that all the time for fun. I’m like, ‘I wonder if this wall is ten or eleven feet long. Let’s find out!’” My voice came out manic-perky.

Rob cut me a strange look as he brushed by and headed for the stairs. He was efficient with the tape measuring, checking the spot my new bed would occupy. But having him up here made me want to die because it reinforced every preconception he must have about my maturity. I sat on a stuffed unicorn and hated my life.

But then he surprised me by saying, “I can see why you’re redecorating. It’s been a long time, huh?”

Grateful, I beamed up at him. “Yeah.”

Smiling back, he tapped the tip of my nose. “So when do you want to work on my spreadsheet?”

I shrugged. “It’s not like I have a job. And I meant to tell you, if I was remotely helpful the other day, I’m glad to pitch in again, anytime you need me.”

“If you’re serious, we could get a lot done while Avery’s gone.” His expression suggested this was a prison furlough. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on my part.

I quelled the urge to snap at him to break up with her already. When a guy like Rob committed to a relationship, only C-4 could shake him loose...and questioning his choice might make him determined to dig in.

“Absolutely.” Though I hated myself for wondering, I had to know. “Do you miss her?”

He nodded. “We don’t make sense on paper, but she needs me. That...doesn’t happen a lot. She calls me some nights before bed, says she can’t sleep unless she hears my voice. She’s really funny, too.”

In a mean way, I guessed silently. But these insights actively wounded me, picturing their conversations while Rob lay in bed. Her voice was the last thing he heard, too.

I kept my tone level as I changed the subject. “How about this? We work on remodeling until we’re tired. Then we rest and tackle your budget. When you get sick of that, we resume sanding or whatever.”

“I can’t take up all your time,” he protested.

“What’s a month? I need to keep busy or I’ll doubt my decision to come home.”

“It’s a deal. I’ll have your bed done by next week.”

“Do you deliver?”

“If you need me to.”

So many things I could say. But I forced myself not to be flirty. That was mostly a front anyway, manufactured to keep guys from figuring out how weird and awkward I could be. Left to my own devices, I’d rather watch llama gifs than go to a club. Ironic, since I’d learned all kinds of moves from music videos on the internet. Nadia thought I’d suddenly blossomed in tenth grade, but everything I knew about hair and makeup, I’d learned from YouTube tutorials. I could fake being a regular girl, but really, I was still besties with my laptop and PlayStation, which helped me perfect mad dance skills through gaming.

I grinned. “Considering I’d have to carry it home from your place, yeah.”

“Okay. When do you want to start with this trade-off?”

“Tomorrow?” I suggested.

“Is nine too early?”

With résumés turned in, I had nothing else to do. “Nope. Do you mind picking me up?”

“Not at all.” Rob headed for the door because our business was done, but he paused, wearing a faint frown. “Don’t wear anything cute.”

“Because...we hate cuteness? It—and not money—is the root of all evil?”

To my everlasting delight, he played along. “Truly. In fact, we’d better set off on a world-saving mission instead. You and me, destroying cuteness wherever we find it.”

“We’ll have to burn all the Build-A-Bears. The children will never understand.”

“But that’s why we have to succeed, Lauren. For the children.” His mock-earnest look was so perfect and adorable that if he were my boyfriend, I’d shove him onto my unicorn-strewn purple comforter and do dirty things to him.

I met his gaze and nodded with resigned stoicism. “I’m in.”

For the second time, I made Rob laugh. He pocketed his tape measure and strode toward me, tipping my face up as he would if he meant to kiss me. My heart went nuts, but he pecked my forehead, as I’d seen him do to Nadia a thousand times, usually when she was being a goofball. In that moment I must’ve looked like a deflating balloon.

“Seriously, I just meant—wear something you won’t ruin working on the house.”

I nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

This partnership was probably a terrible idea, but since the universe kept handing me excuses to hang around with Rob, I couldn’t say no. Deep down, I suspected I’d been skating toward my first broken heart since I was thirteen years old, and there was nothing for it now but to make good. I flopped onto my bed with a heavy sigh.

Well then, world. Bring it on.

CHAPTER FOUR

The first week of working with Rob, I got two blisters and we finished his budget.

Though he wasn’t well-off, if he ate at home more and bought dinner for Avery less, it should be simple enough to make his money stretch until construction picked up again in mid-April. If he stuck to the plan, he could sock some away in savings, too. I hadn’t brought it up yet, but I had some ideas on how he could make his money work smarter, better than leaving it in a low-interest bearing savings account anyway.

None of my remodeling tasks was difficult or specialized, but some of them were messy and exhausting. At the end of the day, I was often filthy and on the verge of collapse. At least I’d acquired the knack of being around him without going tongue-tied or blurting the first thing that crossed my mind. However, I liked hanging out with him too much for my own peace of mind while he treated me like a kid sister and had a girlfriend who called every night from Omaha.

The first night, the phone rang at half past six. Rob switched off the power sander and took the call in a rush that would’ve made me superhappy, had I been on the other end of the line. At first, he was smiling, glad to hear from her, but soon his responses shortened to monosyllabic and his shoulders hunched. By the time they were done, fifteen minutes later, all of the light and pleasure had left him.

After that, I asked to leave before six.

“You’re spending a lot of time with Rob,” my mom said, cutting into my thoughts.

I focused on my Salisbury steak and made a noncommittal noise.

She persisted, “Is that wise? You had the biggest crush—”

“I remember,” I interrupted, just a shade sharp.

Her eyes widened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to butt in, especially when you’ve been so understanding about Stuart.”

I shot her a quizzical look. “About what, exactly? That you’re not ready to introduce us or because you’re dating at all?”

Either way, it didn’t bother me. If her boyfriend would rather not get entangled with the whole faux-family scenario, it was fine by me. I definitely wasn’t looking for a father figure.

“Both. But you just got home, so it feels too soon to bring the two of you together. Once you settle in, I’ll—”

And I tuned her out. If it got serious, I’d look for somewhere else to live. My mom was fine, but I had no interest in cohabitating with her middle-aged boyfriend. But I smiled and nodded because it wasn’t like I resented Mom getting her life together and deciding she didn’t hate all men because of my dad, a healthier attitude by far.

“Did you know Krista Montgomery’s back?” That question snagged my attention.

“No, that’s awesome. For how long?” Krista had been my second closest friend in high school, and our junior year, she’d moved to California with her dad when her parents split.

“Janet didn’t say. But from context, I suspect she’ll be here a while.”

“Context?”

“She’s pregnant.”

“Oh, wow. How far along is she?” That wasn’t what I wanted to know; my curiosity ranged more along the lines of, Is she keeping the kid? What’s the deal with the baby daddy? Why’d she come back to Nebraska? But I hated gossiping about people I liked, so I’d call and talk to Krista, see how she was doing, instead of grilling my mom for secondhand details.

“Six months, according to Janet.”

“Is the landline still the same?” I had the number memorized when I was sixteen, and if I’d forgotten, it should be in my old address book. That was the last thing my dad bought for me before he left, and I’d taken a dorky pride in writing down all my friends’ contact info.

“As far as I know. I only use Janet’s cell these days.”

“I’ll call Krista later.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

It was an unspoken agreement that I’d take over the bulk of the housework since I wasn’t contributing anything for groceries or rent, so I cleaned up the kitchen and then picked up the phone. I dialed from memory, and the call went through. Krista answered on the fourth ring, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Moshi moshi.” She’d always been into all things Japanese, from guys to anime.

“Hey, it’s me.” I’d lost count of the times in junior high that we’d done this, before we got cell phones.

“Oh, my God, my mom told me you were back. How awesome is this? How come you didn’t text me?”

“I wasn’t sure if your California phone was still working.”

“Good point, it’s not. I got a new number here, and I meant to message you with it but it’s been nuts getting settled and I just found out you’re back, too.” The last sentence came out in a girlish squeal. She sounded excited and happy, actually, not like a single mother in crisis. “I can’t wait to see you.”

Unlike Nadia’s family, Krista’s mom lived close enough for me to walk. Her house was on the other side of the subdivision, half a mile or so away. As kids, that meant we could hang out without adult facilitation. Proximity contributed to our friendship in the early days but by high school, we genuinely liked each other, and it hurt when she moved.

“I can come over tonight, if you’re not busy.”

“That would be awesome.”

“See you in fifteen minutes.”

Fortunately I’d already showered, rinsing all the remodeling dust off, so I just had to bundle up and grab my purse. “Going to Krista’s,” I called to my mom, who was watching TV in the living room.

“It’s like we’ve gone back in time,” she mumbled.

There were no sidewalks, so I kept to the slushy edges of the road. Minimal traffic meant I wasn’t completely soaked when I rang her bell. She answered the door with a broad smile. Unsurprisingly, she’d cut her hair since I saw her last, but she pulled off the tapered bob. Krista was small, shorter than me by two inches, and she’d always been slim, though the baby had changed her silhouette. Friendly hazel eyes sparkled as she pounced, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Mom, Lauren’s here! We’re going to my room.”

“Is she hungry?” her mom shouted back.

I pitched my voice to carry. “Nope, I just ate.”

“Okay, have fun!”

Bemused, I saw my mom’s point about the time-warp thing. Krista dragged me upstairs, where the familiarity ended. At some point, her mom had erased all traces of her adolescence, maybe because Krista had chosen to go with her dad instead of staying here. I hadn’t been offered that option. Whatever the reason, this was a guest bedroom more than Krista’s space, but it was private when she shut the door behind us.

I perched on the bed, cocking my head at her. “Okay, tell me everything.”

“Wait, you must have a story, too?”

“I bet mine is shorter and significantly less interesting than yours. I flunked out of Mount Albion on purpose so I could come home.”

She wore a puzzled look. “Why didn’t you just admit you hated it and transfer? No need for the flunking.”

“Because I was in denial. I didn’t realize that was why I was doing it until after the ink was dry on my test results.”

Krista plopped on the other end of the bed, resting against the headboard. “You’re right, that’s a superboring story.”

“Then tell a better one.”

“It’s not as racy as people seem to think. My boyfriend’s in the army on deployment in Afghanistan. I didn’t realize I was pregnant before he left, or I’m sure he would’ve proposed. Not that I’d say yes just because of the baby.”

“Does he know?”

“Yeah, I emailed him, and we Skype when he can get a stable connection.” From her expression, that wasn’t as often as she’d like.

“Boy or girl?”

“Girl.”

“And her dad?”

“Private first class, Kenji Nakamura. I met him in San Francisco. Do you want to see a picture?” Her eager expression prompted me to nod.

Krista dug into her purse, got out her cell phone and showed me a veritable slide show, pose after pose of her absent boyfriend. He was a handsome Japanese-American guy who looked even better in uniform. I could see why she’d fallen for him. The uncertainty would probably drive me crazy, though.

“So why the army?” I asked.

“To help with college costs later. His tour will be up next year.” I could tell she was eager for him to leave the service.

“So he enlisted right out of high school?”

“Yep. We’ve been doing the long-distance thing forever, and I’m so sick of it.”

Wow. I didn’t know if I was concerned or impressed that they’d kept the relationship going for so long through such difficult circumstances. For him, it probably wasn’t as much of a sacrifice because he likely didn’t face much temptation in Afghanistan, and it had to help, knowing somebody who loved him was waiting back home.

“Well, he obviously gets leave time now and then.” I smirked.

Krista ducked her head, but she grinned back. “We tend to make the most of it.”

“How does your dad feel?”

Her face fell. “He’s furious. When he found out, he called the baby a blight on my future. He says I can do much better than Kenji.”

That explained why she wasn’t in California anymore. Since I hadn’t met the guy, I couldn’t say if he were the best person for Krista, but she seemed to love him. On the other hand... “How long have you been together?”

“Since my senior year.”

Wow. So she’s been dating this guy since high school, and he’s been gone since graduation. I understood her dad’s reservations, though it wouldn’t be supportive to say so. Part of me wondered if she’d checked out the alternatives. At this point, Krista had less experience than me, which wasn’t a good thing.

But hey, it’s her life.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said then.

“You do?”

“That we should’ve broken up. I should see other people. Two years ago, we took a break, and...I did. But nobody makes me happy like he does. So we got back together.”

“Gotcha. Well, I bet your dad’s just being protective. That’s his job. Hopefully he’ll get over it by the time the baby gets here. Have you thought about names?”

“So far, we can’t agree on one. My mom was bothering me about delivering on my own, so I finally agreed to move back.” She let out a quiet sigh. “Honestly, she didn’t push much. I was so scared, thinking about doing this by myself.”

“You know I’ll do anything I can to help, right?”

I was thinking more of a baby shower, but Krista perked up. “Really? Mom offered to be in the delivery room, but I can’t handle the thought of her seeing that. I will never understand people who film it. Would you stay with me?”

While your kid’s being born? Shit.

But I’d already offered. So I answered, “Sure. I don’t promise not to freak out, but I’ll hold your hand and feed you ice chips, the whole nine, okay? Are you doing natural childbirth?” I thought there were classes or something, so I was probably too late to be her partner in that.

“Depends on how much it hurts. The idea of a needle in my spine...”

“Right? Welcome to modern medicine.” Though I hadn’t thought much about how I’d handle reproduction down the line, I wasn’t a fan of pain. “So when are you due?”

“Late May.”

“I’ll be there,” I promised.

After that, we went downstairs and joined her mom. We watched TV and made popcorn; Krista put real butter on it, and it was so good that I probably gained five pounds just from the taste. My cell phone complained that I was down to ten percent battery, so I shut it off. It was late when I walked home, but this was Nebraska, and it was only six blocks, so I wasn’t worried. Still, we’d watched horror movies, so I was twitchy by the time I got in the door.

Mom was asleep, so I checked my email. I had the usual spam, plus notes from all my former roomies, which made me happy. I missed all of them, even Max, though things were unspeakably awkward between us at the end. I opened Nadia’s first:

LB! You know I miss you like crazy, right? Courtney’s in your bed right now, and she has completely alphabetized my books. I’m pretty sure there will be a lending library program implemented the next time I get home from work. So how’s Nebraska? Did you find a job yet? Have you started applying to any schools? I have like ten more questions but you’ll get grumpy if I dump them on you all at once. Hug and kiss my family for me, okay? Write back soon or I’m sending my brother to track you down.

She didn’t mention the hot single dad she’d broken up with right before I left. Mr. Hot Ginger had dumped Nadia for her own good, which would drive her quietly crazy. I’d felt horrible about the timing, but there was little I could do about it. I hadn’t gotten to know him well before I left, but Ty seemed like a good guy. He was only a few years older than us, but already had a four-year-old. That was the crux of the conflict.

Writing back, I didn’t quite nail the tone, talking about Rob too much and inventing interesting anecdotes because there was so little going on. I could’ve mentioned Krista, but Nadia had never been as close to her, and there was some tension by the time she’d moved. Mostly I didn’t want Nadia to worry; things would be fine once I got a job and had less time to fret about whether I’d made the right decision.

I opened Angus’s email next:

Hey, you. Got your check. It appears not to be rubber, but I said you didn’t have to pay me back. I hate you for leaving. Come back right now. I’ll wait. This is me, waiting. It’s been at least five minutes. You’re shattering my faith in humanity, Lauren. Take responsibility for it! Not sure what you’ve heard from Nadia, but she’s such a hot mess. I can’t believe you abandoned us. All the light has left my life. All of it! Okay, enough drama. I’m working on getting over Josh. Classes suck but I will survive. (You’re singing it now, aren’t you?)

“Damn you, Angus Starr. You know me too well.” I got up on my bed with a hairbrush and sang two verses before reading on.

In all seriousness, there is a Lauren-sized hole in my life. Please don’t lose touch. Write soon. Love and hugs, Angus.

It was simpler writing back to Angus; our friendship was sweet and uncomplicated. Briefly I considered deleting Max’s email without opening it, but that seemed like an asshole move. In the end, I read it, two lines only:

I’m sorry about everything. Take care of yourself.

Max had nothing to apologize for; if anything, I should be saying that to him. But I couldn’t. So I just closed the email without replying.

Belatedly, I remembered to plug my phone in and when it powered up, I saw I had a message waiting. I dialed into voice mail and listened. Could I come in to interview for the receptionist position? I’d applied for, like, ten jobs, but only the car dealership had called. The months I worked in the fine arts department at Mount Albion must factor into this request. They were likely looking for someone inexperienced so they could offer the lowest possible salary.

It was too late for me to do anything tonight, so I went to bed and checked first thing in the morning. The woman I spoke to asked if I could make it at one-thirty on Thursday, and I said yes, though I was less sure how I’d get there. My mom had a forty-five-minute commute and she needed her car. I obviously had to sort my transportation situation as soon as possible, but my resources wouldn’t stretch to running a vehicle, to say nothing of gas and insurance. The chicken-and-egg problem made me cranky—to get a job, I needed a car, to get a car, I needed a job.

So I was in a mood when Rob picked me up. I didn’t smile at him as I usually did, and I must’ve been distracted, because by the time we parked at his house, he was frowning.

“Are you okay, Lauren?”

My head jerked up. His arm was across the back of the seat, and he’d shifted to face me, one knee crooked away from the steering wheel. It would be so easy to fall into his arms like I did when I was seventeen, but he wasn’t my big brother, so that meant I needed to solve my own problems. I mustered a weak smile.

“Oh, just life, y’know. Shit happens. What excitement do we have in store today?” I reached for the door handle, and to my astonishment, he clicked the lock button.

“Nope.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t accept that answer. Something’s wrong. You should tell me.”

“Why?” I’d never snapped at Rob, but I hadn’t slept well the night before, twisted up about Krista, childbirth and the potential job interview.

“Because we’re friends.”

“Nadia’s my friend. And you’re not my brother.”

His quiet, patient expression made this moment even worse. Bitching at Rob made me feel like Avery, and I’d rather be a sponge or a sea urchin. If I could’ve gotten out of the truck, I’d have run for it.

“I know that.” He was just too calm, and it irked me. Did anything ever rile him up?

“You want to know about my problems? Fine. I have an interview on Thursday, but I don’t have a ride. And if they make an offer, I don’t have a way to get there because this is Sharon, there’s no public transportation and I have no idea why I wanted to come back here.”

“Because it’s home,” he said quietly. “And I’ll take you to the interview. You know I don’t mind...and it’s not the farthest I’ve driven you by a long shot. If you get the job, you can borrow my old truck. It looks like crap but I keep it running.”

I stared at him. “You have two trucks.”

“You remember the green one? It’s handy when I have the other one serviced.”

“I can’t just take your truck.” Avery would shit her pants. Plus, there should be a law against anyone being as nice as Rob. People probably took advantage of his good nature.

“I’m not giving it to you. When you can afford wheels of your own, it’ll go back in storage. Not a big deal.”

Once more I tried to get out of the truck, but he didn’t let me. I sighed. “We’ll freeze to death if I don’t agree, huh?”

“Nope. I’ve got a full tank of gas, a working heater and all day.”

“You win,” I muttered.

He smiled and brushed a hand against the top of my head. If only he didn’t look so amused and indulgent, whereas I wanted to rub against him until I purred. It had never stung so much to be Nadia’s best friend. There didn’t seem to be any way I could make him realize that I was twenty-one, not eleven, and Rob was focused on Avery like a laser beam.

He climbed out of the truck and led the way to his front door. “To answer you, I thought I’d let you try the power sander. I moved everything out of the dining room.”

“It sounds like you expect things to go horribly wrong.”

“Nah,” he said with the smile that wrecked my heart. “I’m just careful.”

How well I know it.

CHAPTER FIVE

After I ran the power sander like a boss, finishing the dining-room floor, Rob fixed one-pot macaroni and cheese for lunch. He started it while I was sweeping up the dust. I didn’t even know it was possible, but he boiled the pasta in butter and milk, so by the time it was soft, he just added cheese and bacon crumbles. It was pretty close to the best thing I ever tasted. On a hot plate. In a real kitchen, he had to be amazing.

We took our bowls up to his room, and he turned on the TV. I made incoherent this-is-so-delicious noises as we ate. I probably would’ve licked the bowl, if I hadn’t noticed him staring. “What, this is really good. Tell me what else you can cook, preferably with pictures.”

He smiled at me, an easy warmth in his expression. “Sorry, no food porn for you, or I’ll never get you back to work. But I’ll brag a little. Should I start with breakfast?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Oatmeal, omelets, sausage scramble, French toast, pancakes.”

“How the hell do you make all of that on a hot plate?”

“The key is preparation. I have cooked bacon and sausage in the fridge at all times.”

I nodded sagely. “In case of a meat emergency.”

“You never know,” he said.

Suddenly I wasn’t in a bad mood anymore. I hadn’t set out to let Rob solve my problems, but I’d be an asshole to blame him for caring, just because his affection didn’t take the shape I preferred. Surreptitiously I licked my spoon.

“Lunch,” I prompted.

“That’s usually a sandwich. I’m showing off because you’re here.”

That made me happy. “And dinner?”

“Stir-fry, various soups, quesadillas, country-fried steak. I can’t make anything that requires more than one burner and a microwave. If I get in the mood for something else, I go to my mom and dad’s.”

Or you take Avery out for dinner. His receipts had told me that much.

“It sounds like you enjoy cooking.”

“In a better kitchen, I do.”

“Yours will be beautiful when it’s finished.”

“I hope so. Once we finish the dining room, it’s next on my to-do list.”

“Most people would’ve done the kitchen first.” I didn’t mean to criticize; it was just an example of how Rob’s thought processes differed from the rest of the world.

His pleasure dimmed. “Yeah. But I’m already taking my food up, and even if I finished the kitchen, there’s no room to eat it in. So I wanted to have somewhere to go first.”

“You mean when you christen your new stove and cook something complicated, there should be more ceremony than just carting it up the stairs.” Put that way, it made sense to finish the dining room first, even if it seemed backward and lengthened inconvenient meal preparation. It also established the fact that such milestones mattered to Rob; he was sentimental.

He seemed relieved, flashing me another bright smile. “Yeah, exactly.”

“You should invite me over. After all this effort, I’d like to be part of the inauguration.” After I said it, I realized my mistake. He’d be cooking for Avery, not me, when the kitchen was pretty and polished, the dining room ready to receive guests. My next breath actually hurt.

“Maybe.” He didn’t mention her, much to my relief. “We should get back to work.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Rob did, in fact, have running water, but he washed up in a basin. I went back to the dining room and got the right grit sandpaper to complete the final pass on the floor. If I’d processed everything he told me correctly, the next step would be staining. After that, we’d wash the walls and paint them, along with the baseboards. It was possible I’d never see the finished product, of course. Once I had a job, there would be no excuse to hang around.

I was on my hands and knees when he came in; I didn’t look up. He stood over me long enough for me to feel weird, so I finally sat back on my heels. “What?”

“Let’s do something else.”

“But we’re almost done with the floor.” The perfectionist in me was going to be annoyed if he decided the built-in hutch was more important.

“Not in here. Out there.” He gestured at the world beyond the windows.

“Like what?”

“I’m wondering if you know how to drive stick.”

Shit. Now that he mentioned it... “The green truck’s a manual, isn’t it?”

“Yep.”

Sighing, I shook my head. “My mom never taught me. I don’t think she’s ever owned anything but automatics.”

“You need to learn.” His tone was no-nonsense, as he plucked the keys out of a basket by the door. There were so few on the ring that I knew this was his spare set.

“Right now?”

“I’m feeling cooped up,” he admitted.

“Then by all means, let’s uncoop you, chicken-man.”

Rob laughed and slung an arm around my shoulders. When I leaned against him, my eyes closed. This was the first time he’d hugged me since I was seventeen. Interesting that making him laugh had the same effect as my tears. I didn’t know what I’d do with that information, but it fascinated me. I expected him to shove me away or to hear the impatient jingle of keys, but his other arm came around me, closing the circuit.

Surprised, I tipped my head up, waiting for the punch line. “Are we having a moment?”

His eyes were warm and soft, roiling deep like a thunderhead, and he wore a half smile that melted me down to the bone. “I’m glad you came back.”

Then he ruined it by messing up my hair and shoving me out the door ahead of him. I could absolutely envision him treating Nadia this way, and I ground my teeth against the certainty that he didn’t see a pretty face or nice rack, cute butt, none of my feminine attributes. I could honestly say that Rob loved me like a sister, and that was a deep hole to climb out of. I mean, he’d been looking after me and keeping me out of trouble for, like, fourteen years.

Glumly, I followed him to the garage, shivering while he hauled the doors open. The green truck looked a bit better than I remembered, which meant Rob had been working on restoring it, too. That fit with what I knew of his personality; he didn’t discard things or give up on them. It was in his nature to tinker and repair, even if it took forever and other people would’ve given up long ago. Not for the first time, I thought, Lucky Avery.

“You should be wearing hat, scarf and gloves,” he said as we climbed in.

In the dim garage, I could only make out the strongest angles of his face: slope of nose and curve of jaw. My breath misted before me, and I rubbed my palms together, afraid to touch the steering wheel. “How old are you again? Forty-six? Besides, I thought I’d be working in your nice, warm house all day, no need for winter bundling. So you should really apologize for springing surprise stick lessons on me. I’m coping like a champ, right?”

He grinned and reached over to stick the key in the ignition. Ridiculous as it was, when his arm brushed close to me and the metal clicked in, my stomach fluttered. I was too flustered to listen when he explained how to start the car, so he had to repeat himself, and then I felt like such a dipshit that my cheeks burned like twin emergency flares. So much for learning to relax around him. Somehow I managed to pump the gas while doing whatever with the clutch well enough to start the motor. The truck sounded like it was in good shape.

“Let it run for a few minutes, get the engine good and hot.” Seriously, did he have to say stuff like that? In anyone else, I’d be sure it was a double entendre, but that wasn’t how he operated, and certainly not with me. He proved it by continuing, “It’ll take a while for the heater to kick in, too.”

Nodding, I rubbed my hands together, trying and failing to warm them. Rob took over, pressing my fingers between his palms. My toes curled. “You know, the ancient Norse had a long tradition of warming their hands on each other’s bellies.”

I didn’t expect that to work, but Rob rewarded me with another smile. I’d say all kinds of crazy shit to keep him looking at me like that...while holding my hands. The next moment proved definitively that I didn’t have mind-control powers, though, because the frantic refrain of kiss me kiss me kiss me running through my head didn’t stop him from letting go.

“Good thing I’m not Norse,” he said, checking the vents for hot-air flow.

You’re better, like Thor’s hotter, sweeter cousin. But I didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t enjoy being praised for his looks; in fact, it made him feel bad, probably because nobody but me could find any other good points to mention. I could’ve written a dissertation on The Ways Robert Clayton Conrad Is Completely Awesome, but for some reason, no graduate program was offering credit for this expertise.

“Explain the gears to me one more time?” The imprint of what gears were located where had faded somewhat over the years. Rob doubtless knew it by touch, but I was a manual novice. Any other guy would be making all the penis jokes in the world, but he only repeated the information with imperturbable calm.

“Got it?” he asked.

I huffed out a breath. “I’m freaking out. I’ll ruin your truck. You shouldn’t trust me to do this—there’s snow on the ground.”

“But not on the roads,” he said patiently. “Put it in Reverse, give it some gas. You can do it, Lauren. You’re smart and it’s not that hard. If I can learn, anyone can.”

Only the fact that I was doing things with both feet and backing out of his garage while trying not to hyperventilate kept me from yelling at him. Even though I grew up multitasking, I could only do so many things at once. Swear to God, I was seeing stars by the time I cleared the doors, and my hands were shaking on the wheel.

“You weren’t kidding,” he said, brows furrowing. Then his hands were on my shoulders and he brought my face really close, to the point I could feel the warmth of his breath and see the dark stubble on his chin. I’d never been this close to Rob’s mouth, his amazing, perfectly shaped mouth. But he maintained eye contact, intent on calming me down. “It’s okay. You’ve got this. You can do it. Breathe for me. Okay? In. Out.”

He probably didn’t mean for me to think about sex when he said that, but I couldn’t help where my mind went. Ironically, it took care of my nerves and made me squirmy, suddenly aware of the powerful engine rumbling the seat of the old truck. I’d much rather climb on top of Rob than learn how to drive stick, but he registered that I was no longer a vibrating anxiety ball and let go of me.

“Better? I don’t want to force you.”

This wasn’t even a full-on panic attack. Imagine how he’d react if he ever saw one. Because I couldn’t stand for him to think of me as broken, I nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Then the lesson commenced for real. I stalled out the first time I switched out of Reverse and it took me forever to turn the truck around. But I did not launch the vehicle through the wall of his house and I eventually made it down his driveway. I had another mini-panic attack about getting out on the open road, but once I made the turn, upshifting wasn’t such a problem. He explained how I’d likely have the most trouble at stop signs and traffic lights—that downshifting was trickier, unless I was going up a mountain.

At that point, I laughed and shook my head. “I have no plans to take your truck any farther than work and home. I’m afraid I’ll ruin it.”

“Don’t be nervous,” he said. “You’re already better than I was my first time. My granddad predicted I’d strip the gears, the way I was going, and the transmission would fall out.” He paused. “That didn’t happen, either. In time, you’ll be so good at this, you’ll wonder why you were ever scared. Turn here.”

Here was the Walmart parking lot. I managed to stop the truck and shut it off without anything catastrophic happening. “Thanks.” At the inquiring tilt of his head, I added, “That wisdom applies to every new thing I’ll ever try in my life.”

He shot me a surprised look. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Nobody’s ever said that to me...when they weren’t fucking around.”

“It’s good advice.” Hesitating, I wondered if I should admit this, but he’d said that we were friends. “I’m not very adventurous. It stresses me out to change my routine. In some respects I’m close to obsessive about doing things the same way.”

That was part of why I was so unhappy in Michigan— because I was fighting my instinctive tendencies, playing a role and thinking if I just tried hard enough, I could just feel like other people did, and I could act like the stress of seeing hundreds of people daily didn’t bother me. Nadia was fine with it, but she was closer to normal. She didn’t spend an hour bracing for social contact and when we went out, she was more or less herself whereas I was always playing a part—the role of extrovert Lauren.

For a few seconds, he didn’t reply, and I wished I hadn’t opened up. Swallowing hard, I dredged up a cheerful expression. “Too much, huh? So did you want to get something or—”

“I count things,” he said.

“Huh?”

“I don’t like odd numbers, either.”

Astonished, I studied him, trying to decide if he was screwing with me. But the slightly anxious pleat between his brows promised sincerity.

“I’m not crippled by it or anything, but when I take nails out of a package, I always get two, and I decided not to buy the first house I liked because the address ended in three.” He stared at his hands like he expected me to condemn him for being weird, when I’d just confessed to being overly attached to my little rituals.

Learning this made Rob feel more like a real friend, less the guy who solved my problems and who I’d never get to be with for oh-so-many reasons. It helped to discover he had quirks, too, in addition to the insecurity over the looks-versus-brains dichotomy I already knew about.

I leaned over and bumped my shoulder against his. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Rob’s gaze was steady on mine. For a few seconds, I felt like he actually saw me—not as Nadia’s friend or his surrogate sister, but as a person—and that moment was electric. His fingers flexed against his knees, then he cleared his throat.

“I don’t need anything from in there. I just thought you could practice driving around the parking lot. It’s empty over there.”

“Got it, boss.” Without prompting, I started the truck, and the engine only sputtered a little when I backed out, swapping from Reverse.

We had been looping for half an hour while I practiced going from first to second when a blue Honda Civic pulled into the lot. I didn’t recognize the girl driving it, but Rob clearly did. From what I could see through her window, she was in her early twenties, shoulder-length dark hair, round face and turned up nose. I’d call her plain, but that might be a result of the scowl. After a few seconds, I placed her as someone who’d hung out with Avery in high school, though she’d put on some weight since graduation, judging by the fullness of her cheeks.

Staring at Rob, she nearly hit us, and he shifted all the way around, clearly torn on how to handle things. Since it was a near miss, not a collision, I didn’t have to stop or give insurance information, but he signaled for me to park near the other vehicle. The girl glared until Rob hopped out, hands in his pockets, and he went to the driver’s side. He didn’t ask me to come, so I stayed where I was, but a nosy impulse made me crack my window to eavesdrop.

“This is what you’re doing when Avery’s out of town?” she was snapping.

“What?” He glanced over his shoulder at me with a puzzled look.

“I can’t believe you’re hooking up with some skank behind her back.”

Hey. This is not a skanky outfit. At most, these sweats are hoochie. They didn’t even claim that my ass was “Juicy.”

Sadly, there was nobody to appreciate the genius of my silent retort. Besides, Rob had more class than to cruise the Walmart parking lot with his side piece, but this girl didn’t know him at all. If she did, she wouldn’t be spitting accusations like that. I half wanted to get out of the car and pull her hair, then shout at her that he’d never cheat on Avery, especially with me, but that would likely make things worse and escalate the situation to reality TV levels of awful.

Shock must’ve paralyzed him for a few seconds. Then he said, “Lauren is my sister’s best friend. And I’m giving her driving lessons.”

“Let me guess,” the girl purred. “You’re teaching her all about how to handle stick?”

Rob’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. She screeched off, nearly running over his feet in the process. He was pale when he came up to the window, anger written all over his face. No good deed goes unpunished. When Avery found out he was loaning me Tessa Green-tea, her head would explode. She couldn’t understand what kind of guy Rob was, or that he was thoughtful without expecting sex in return. Or maybe I was just being judgmental; for the sake of his relationship, I should probably hope I was wrong.

“Sorry,” he said, “for getting you involved in that. It never occurred to me that anyone would take this the wrong way.”

I found it pretty surprising, too. Avery’s friend had leaped to that conclusion so fast, I had to wonder what kinds of reports she had been getting. Were there problems I didn’t know about? Rob didn’t talk that much about his girlfriend with me...not that I wanted him to. It was painful hearing about her and then imagining them together.

“Is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head. “Looks like we’re cutting this short today. I have to call Avery before Jillian does.”

I understood why he wouldn’t want to with me sitting here, listening in. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for messing things up for you.”

“You didn’t. It’s a misunderstanding. I’ll fix it.”

A tiny, horrible part of me hoped that he couldn’t.

CHAPTER SIX

The next morning, Rob delivered my bed. I was expecting him to pick me up to work on his house, not for my furniture to arrive, but I stepped back so he could bring the pieces inside. He was quiet as he disassembled my old bed frame, then he asked, “Where do you want it?”

I could tell he was upset, but if he wanted to talk, he’d invite me into his business. So I answered, “Let’s store it in the attic for now.”

We had one of those doors that pulled down from the ceiling. With easy physical prowess, he stowed the components and then put the new bed together. Like Rob’s, it was made of salvaged wood, platform base attached to railroad ties and a slatted headboard that gave it an intricately woven aspect. The red chestnut stain was beautiful, too. My mom was still working on the red plaid cover and curtains, so my lavender stuff looked even girlier against the rugged wood, but the bed gave the room some much-needed character. Once we repainted, it would look like a different space altogether.

“This looks fantastic.” Inwardly I was giddy as a schoolgirl over having a bed that matched Rob’s. There was no way I wouldn’t fantasize about that.

As he finished up, he said without looking at me, “I broke up with Avery.”

My immediate reaction was, Yes! But I knew better than to say it out loud.

“What happened?” I had some idea, but it would do him good to get it out. And selfishly, I wanted to hear it.

“She said some unforgivable things.” He set the mattress in place, and with his help, I made up the bed.

Then I sat down on it, inviting a longer conversation. It was a little weird to have Rob in my room, given how many of my fantasies he’d starred in over the years, but right now, he needed a friend. “Like what?”

With a faint sigh, he plonked onto the foot. “She didn’t believe me when I explained that you’re helping me with the house. Or why you needed driving lessons.”

“Didn’t she know about the house already?” The lessons had been an unexpected development, and it would be weird to call your girlfriend at work for permission.

Rob blinked at me. “It didn’t seem like a big deal. I’ve known you forever.”

Mentally I sighed. While he might see me as a sexless foster sister, Avery probably didn’t view our hanging out in the same light. I hated empathizing with her. Again. But this didn’t seem like the time to tell Rob he’d screwed up. Clearly he already felt bad enough.

He continued, “It sucks that she thought I’d cheat, but—”

“With me of all people?” His incredulity stung, reinforcing how he absolutely did not see me as a woman. “Yeah, right.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. You’d never hook up with someone else’s boyfriend. And it pisses me off that she said you did. Especially when I’m him.”

“Wait...so you broke up because of what she said about me?”

His mouth tightened. “She crossed the line. I can fix a lot of things, but I can’t change a person with that kind of mind. And if she doesn’t trust me now, it’s unlikely to get better.”

Since I didn’t want him dating Avery in the first place, I could hardly argue, but it seemed odd that he was more bothered by what she said about me than by her condemnation of his own behavior. “You’re mad about what she said about you, too, right?”

Rob shrugged. “I’ve heard it before.”

“What?”

“That I’m too dumb to notice when somebody’s hitting on me. Mind you, I don’t enjoy being accused of shit I didn’t do.” But he seemed more resigned than angry; his outrage was reserved for me, apparently.

“And wouldn’t. You’re positive I’d never go after a guy who’s taken, but I know you, Rob. You’d never cheat on your girlfriend, either.” I paused, wondering if it was too soon to ask. But what the hell. If they got back together, at least I’d know the answer. “What did you like most about her?” It couldn’t be as simple as her looks.

He sighed softly. “She said I had potential.”

“Excuse me?”

“Avery was always saying I could make something of myself if I tried. Nobody else ever thought that, not even when I was a kid. My parents talked about Nadia going to college from the time she was eight years old, but with me, it was always, ‘Rob’s got a good heart. Rob gets along so well with people.’ My aunt’s always mumbling, ‘At least he’s handsome,’ like I don’t know what that means.”

Wow. I normally liked Rob and Nadia’s family, but right then I wanted to punch them.

He went on, “There was a state school that offered me an athletic scholarship. Football. But my dad goes, ‘Some people are meant to work with their hands, and there’s no shame in it. I got you through high school but I can’t carry you to a four-year degree. So unless you can make it on your own, I think you have to pass.’”

“Why didn’t you try?”

“Because he was right,” he said quietly. “I’d have needed tutors to get through pretty much every class and I’m not so great at football that the university would’ve paid for that, definitely not good enough to go pro. Even if I did squeak out a degree, I can’t think of any job that would suit me better than what I’m doing. So what would’ve been the point?”

I had no answer for that. Though I had all kinds of quirks, my brain was sharp enough to do pretty much anything I wanted it to. Rob’s pain was tangible, built up over years of people dismissing him as a sweet, good-natured lummox without the acuity to register the offense of it. And that just wasn’t true. I reached over and took his hands; they were big and rough, a testament to years of building. He cupped his fingers around mine, apparently taking comfort in the connection. For me, it wasn’t enough. But he didn’t let down his walls often enough for me to pull back.

“So then Avery came along. She was smart, pretty and ambitious. When we started dating, she said she saw the potential for greatness in me—between the two of us, we could go places. With her help, I could run my own business. That’s why she was so critical...she was trying to make me better.”

I didn’t think that was why at all, but now I understood why Rob let her get away with it—because of what she represented. She was clever, no question, and if it took her questioning my morals to make him break free, then I wouldn’t argue that point. But I couldn’t let the other assumption stand.

“That’s predicated on the bullshit opinion that you need fixing,” I snapped. “You don’t need to be molded into somebody else. Right now, without Avery’s help, you can run a business. Outsource the bookkeeping. A lot of business owners do it to free up time for more important stuff. And you can do it without listening to somebody catalogue your faults.”

He stared at me with a guarded expression. “You think I can make a go of the furniture design thing we talked about?”

“Absolutely. That, or house flipping. You’re kind of amazing. I mean, you’re a great cook, you bought a house already and you’re renovating it top to bottom. I’ve already learned a lot from working with you. Bottom line, I believe in you, Rob, and not because I’m sleeping with you. I don’t want to change anything about who you are. I also don’t expect you to make a ton of money and buy me things.” I stared at him, hard, willing him to make the connection.

Comprehension dawned slowly, but there it was. “I had a lucky escape, huh? If I’d married her, the divorce would’ve wiped me out.”

There was no benefit to being anything but brutally honest. “Knowing you, if there were kids involved, you would’ve stuck it out, no matter what she did or said.”

“Probably,” he admitted.

I grinned. “Then you should thank me for being such an irresistible home wrecker.”

“Thanks, Lauren.” He tugged gently on our joined hands and I tumbled into his arms.

He smelled of minty soap and snowy air, a freshness that made me breathe him in. I was in no hurry to get free, so I tucked my face against his neck and shivered each time he exhaled into my hair. Maybe he thought it was weird that I didn’t just thump him on the back a few times, but the last time he held me this way, I was sobbing too hard to enjoy it. This time I registered the strength of his chest and arms, his fierce, protective heat. Once Rob came down on your side, he never wavered. His hands were gentle as he stroked my back; each pass lit me up with more tingles.

I never saw him touch his sister like this.

Though I’d be happy to do this all day, we had work to do. So I sat back and curved my hand against his cheek, not something I’d have done before this talk, but we were closer now. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Rob said in apparent surprise. Then he pulled my palm down so it was open, facing up, and with one fingertip, he traced a curve. “You...” Then he repeated the motion on the other side, joining the invisible lines. “Are good for me.”

As he released me, and I curled my fingers instinctively, I realized he’d drawn a heart on my hand. Flustered, I tried to downplay my role in this conversation. “Avery wasn’t right for you. Anyone who cares would say the same.”

“Not everyone sees me like you do,” he answered.

Tiny shivers washed over me as I replayed how good it felt in his arms. “Their loss.”

Our eyes met for a long moment. I fell into the deep blue, briefly veiled by the thick fringe of his lashes when he blinked. His jaw was lightly stubbled, his mouth soft with the hint of a smile. I wished for some kind of secret message hidden in this silence, but it was enough that Rob seemed to be in a better mood; I considered cheering him up for a job well done.

“Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat. “Ready to get to work?”

When we got to Rob’s place, the dining-room floor was ready to be stained. He must’ve been up half the night, completing preparations, but he didn’t reveal any hint of how exhausted he must be. That was when I realized fully how much he’d mastered the calm facade—to protect his privacy and keep the world at bay. People made the mistake of thinking he didn’t feel much, but it wasn’t that way at all. Everything was just hidden like a deep, deep well, and then sealed shut with an iron lid. Wistfully, I wondered what it would be like if he let me in. In retrospect, my crush seemed embarrassingly juvenile, based mostly on, OMG, he’s so hot. But there was so much more to him. Because after getting to know him better, I was falling hard. I couldn’t write it off as infatuation; these feelings were real.

He seemed oblivious to my inner turmoil. More cheerful now, he showed me the proper way to apply the stain. I was surprised when he damped the wood with meticulous care. At my puzzled look, he clarified, “It’s the best way to make sure the stain soaks in. I’m glad you’re here, this is actually a two-person job. I’ll apply the stain, then you go behind me and wipe it off.”

That seemed counterintuitive, but he was the pro, and it wasn’t like I minded working so close. At some point, I needed to back off, invent a reason why I couldn’t see him every day, but I wasn’t heartless enough to do it the day after he broke up with his girlfriend. With luck, I’d get the receptionist job, solving this dilemma without any need for complicated machinations.

By the time we finished the first coat, I was incredibly sticky. No euphemisms, I just wasn’t as tidy as Rob. Fortunately, he’d foreseen that we needed an exit strategy, and we finished on the side by the living room, not the far wall.

He laughed when he saw I’d managed to smear it on my shirt. “That probably won’t come out.”

“It’s well worth the sacrifice.” The floor looked fantastic, a smooth shade of golden oak that brightened the space. “Does it need another coat?”

“I don’t want it darker, so I’ll probably do a satin finish seal next.”

I nodded, like I completely understood what he was talking about. “What color for the dining room?”

“White ceiling and baseboards. I haven’t decided on the walls yet.”

“Lemon-yellow would be pretty.” But that might be too girly.

“Come with me to pick out the paint...I’m not much of a color guy. You could probably guess that from the tan bedroom.”

Maybe I was reading too much into this, but it seemed too personal to help him decorate, like imprinting myself permanently on his house. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. I trust you.”

Nothing he could’ve said would have made me happier. “Then I’m in.”

Before we ate lunch, he sent me upstairs with special solvent to clean up. It was no wonder he’d snickered; I was a mess. I yelled down the stairs, “Do you mind if I shower?”

“Go ahead,” he called back.

I’d used the bathroom before. Like his bedroom, it was finished, remodeled in blue and white tile. The space didn’t have much character, but the workmanship was sound. He needed some fluffy bath mats and pictures on the walls, maybe some candles and good-smelling soap. But he’d said decorating wasn’t really his thing. His house would be simple when he finished, waiting for some woman to add the finishing touches. A pang went through me, so sharp I couldn’t meet my own eyes in the mirror.

I used the chemicals on my hands to remove the stain, then I soaped them, rinsing the stuff off my skin. Afterward, I hopped in the bath to wash up quickly. It gave me a silly, illicit thrill to use Rob’s soap and shampoo, but I shut those feelings down fast. Rob needed time to get over Avery, and in his eyes I was still just a supportive friend.

Fifteen minutes later, I came out with wet hair; not my hottest look, but I felt much better. This wasn’t the normal way to attract a guy—I knew that—but Rob wasn’t the type to be drawn by cleavage shirts, fancy hair or makeup. It seemed like only honesty could pull him.

Rob had BLTs and potato salad waiting down the hall in his room. Taking the plate, I settled in the chair beside him with a happy sigh. “I eat better here than I do at home.”

“My mom made the salad. She thinks I’m living on ramen.”

“The woman doesn’t give you enough credit,” I said absently. “Nobody does.”

He shot me a shy, pleased smile, and his response came out soft, hesitant. “I...like hearing that.”

“It’s the truth,” I said around a bite of sandwich, before I could think better of it.

Sexy. Talk with your mouth full, Lauren.

But he wasn’t even looking at me. Rob tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling with an inscrutable look. “Until we started hanging out, I didn’t even know how bad I felt. Like, it was normal.” He curled a fist and set it against his chest. “To have a knot here constantly. But the more I talk to you, the looser it gets. Until I can’t feel it anymore, and it’s like I’m taking my first deep breath in a long time. Did you ever have that?”

“You mean not realizing something hurt until it stopped?”

“Yeah.”

“Leaving school was like that. I didn’t want to admit I was different. You know how many mornings I freaked out silently about going to class?”

“Because you hate being around people?”

It was impressive he knew that. Even Nadia had bought it when I reinvented myself in high school, changing my personality, my habits, everything. She never questioned that I’d turned into a social butterfly when, in fact, I was just a caterpillar with a pretty parachute. But ultimately, living a lie made me miserable. With my personality, there was no way I could work as a lobbyist without a constant barrage of anxiety attacks.

I nodded. “And you know, maybe I should be strong, get over it and be normal. But that feels like shaving my edges to fit in the wrong slot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Rob said. “It’s not like you’re afraid to leave the house or can’t buy milk from the Stop & Go. So what if you don’t like people?”

That much was true. My social anxiety didn’t prevent me from accomplishing routine tasks. It was more that I’d realized that being a lobbyist would require constant interaction on a level that horrified me. As for college, I hated the parties that other people seemed to view as the Holy Grail, and the only way I could cope was to become someone else. Also, I drank a lot, more than I’d liked to admit. Though I wasn’t a full-on lush when I left, I could’ve easily turned into one of those people never spotted without a glass of wine.

“I was just in denial,” I said.

“About what?”

“The fact that I’m computer dork and always will be. I’m more comfortable behind a screen than joking around at a party. Only booze makes the latter possible. And drinking led me to some questionable life choices.”

“Like what?” I could tell from Rob’s expression that he didn’t expect me to say anything truly shocking.

How cute, Lauren thinks she has a dark past.

It wasn’t like I’d killed anybody, but I did feel bad about hurting Max, my former housemate. I hadn’t realized he really liked me until it was too late.

A contrary impulse made me mutter, “Fucking my roommate, for example.”

“Why was that dumb?” From the slight widening of his eyes, he hadn’t expected me to bring up sex; he radiated a sort of reluctant curiosity.

“For so many reasons. But that wasn’t the stupidest thing I ever did.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t ask.” Finally, Rob was looking at me as if he understood this wasn’t a joke, and I wasn’t playing around.

I shrugged. “So don’t.”

“But now I’m curious.”

“Well?” I prompted. “Are you asking?”

“I guess I am.” He shifted to face me, eyes steady on mine.

Was I really telling him this? Nadia didn’t even know. But the scare convinced me I had to rethink everything, coming on the heels of another blunder. I couldn’t tell him about that one.

“Drunk Lauren got caught—by a cop—while giving a BJ in a moving vehicle. That’s a misdemeanor, by the way. Indecent exposure and reckless driving.”

“Did you get arrested?” That wasn’t what I expected him to ask.

“The cop gave us both a Breathalyzer test. Luckily, the guy I was with passed. I didn’t. The officer decided my judgment was impaired and let me off with a warning.” I couldn’t face Rob, so I stared at my hands, preparing for the brotherly lecture about my abysmal behavior that was sure to follow.

“I can’t talk about this with you,” he said huskily.

I raised my head, puzzled. “Why not?”

His eyes were storm-dark, not angry. Something else. An emotion I’d never seen in Rob. “I’m human, Lauren. Damn. Like you said before, I’m not your brother, and that mental picture? It’s...distracting.”

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