Inalltheyearswe’ve been friends, I’ve never once visited Ham at work, which is probably why I have no clue what he does. Sure, he’s the security manager for his mom. It sounds impressive until you realize he’s not a frontline guy. He’s never the guy standing next to his mom. That spot is reserved for a guy with muscles. Once I learned that, I just assumed he schedules the guys who do the real work.
I take the bus to the closest stop and walk until I’m on the edge of the office complex, craning my neck at the building. Then I glance at my phone, check the address to confirm I’m at the Hart Senate office, and look back up. So, this is where they all work—Ham, Lottie, and their mom. An American flag snaps stifflyin the wind, welcoming me forward. In my head, I mutter,This office is way scarier than I thought.
My stomach twists as I step inside the door. Before I can take another step, a uniformed officer shifts subtly in my direction, like he clocked me the second I crossed an invisible line. “Can I help you?” he asks.
I lift my palms, suddenly very conscious of how out of place I probably look. “Yeah, I’m here to see a friend, Hamilton Halloway. I called ahead. He said I should be on a list for a visitor pass or something.”
The officer’s expression flickers. “What did you say your name was?”
I step forward. “Tyson Lane.”
The officer speaks on his phone. After a moment, he turns back to me. “You are cleared to go through the metal detector.”
Taking a cautious step forward, my eyes flick from the uniformed officers stationed at every corner to the throng of visitors moving purposefully through the doors. I get in line with them and follow them through the checkpoint. The second I step past security, I’m in a hallway where Ham’s waiting. “Ty,” he says slowly, scanning all around me. “I’m so touched you are visiting, but also a little suspicious. Care to tell me what’s up?”
I try to smile, but the guy works security for his mom. Which means two things:
This is the worst possible place for me to show up to see him.
He already knows something is wrong.
“I just need to talk,” I say, rolling my shoulders. I look around at all the rooms and nod toward a dark one. “Can we go someplace private?”
His eyes narrow, his feet planted firmly, making no move toward a quiet room. “Younever‘just need to talk.’ Last time you showed up to talk unannounced, it was in Mapleton when you got traded, thus breaking up our friendship—”
Cutting him off before he gets ridiculous, I spout back, “It wasn’t a breakup.”
“It felt like it to me, because we both cried.” He jerks his chin up, like he’s trying to rush me, or maybe he’s on to me. “Anyway, you’re in a federal building, so I know you did something wrong, or you wouldn’t be bothering me at work. What did you do?”
I rub a hand over my face, as this is insanely impossible. There’s no way I can tell him what’s transpired in the last twenty-four hours, especially here in the open. Doing my best to create a private place, I slide my feet back until I’m against the wall. Ham narrows his eyes until the crease between his brows melts into one giant unibrow. I’ve seen a lot of intimidating faces before on the hockey rink, but this one is giving “I’ll kill you if you BS me” vibes.
He follows me until my back hits the wall. I swallow hard, as if I’m forming a launch pad for all the things I need to confess. I can’t hold back, and the truth explodes out of me like a bomb. “I kissed Lottie!” My arms fling out as if they too can’t hold back, and I slam my lips together, gluing them shut before anything else can escape. I wait for him to scream.
He simply tilts his head toward me. “What do you mean, you kissed her?”
I rush on, unable to stop reliving the kiss in this very moment, relishing every detail. “It was a real kiss, with my arms wrapped around her, and it was everything I ever imagined. She kissed me back with passion, and my entire soul reorganized itself around her existence. My life officially has a before-and-after moment now, and—”
“STOP,” he barks, physically gagging. He scans down the hallway as if regretting not letting me into a private office. Then his voice drops. “Oh, Mylanta! Dude. No more talking. That is my sister!”
I wince, realizing I was reliving it all out loud. “I didn’t mean to—”
“You kissed Lottie.” His nostrils flare, eyes pinning me in a threatening glare. “With your mouth. Don’t say you didn’t mean to. You can’t accidentally smash your mouth onto someone. You did it on purpose. Don’t lie to me.”
“I mean, yes, I meant to kiss Lottie, but I didn’t mean to upset you. You cut me off with that murderous look before I could finish.” I need to giggle—saying it out loud fills me with little happy bubbles that flutter up my throat. “It was life-changing.”
“Stop!” He points at me. “I swear if you say one more thing—”
I can’t help but smirk, slipping back to that magical moment. “She smelled like—” I start, but he doesn’t let me continue. He jerks back so fast, letting out a choking noise somewhere between a cough and a shriek.
“Ihateyou!” he yells, flailing one arm as if I’ve thrown a live grenade at him. “I don’t need these mental images.” Though his words are mean, I know him well enough to know he’s not serious about the hate. He’s a tad dramatic.
I lean back, pretending to shield myself from the imaginary attack. “That’s fair.”
He staggers a few steps back, waving both hands like he’s fending off a swarm of angry wasps. “No! Seriously! It’s too much. Don’t talk about it in any detail, or I will barf.”
Holding back a laugh like my life depends on it, my lips twitch. “Was it the part where she kissed me back with passion?”
He throws his head back dramatically. “It’s all of it!”
