Page 16 of The Exit Strategy

Do the job. Collect the check. Make a new plan. Move on.

“I should try to get a little sleep before I have to pretend to be a functioning employee,” I say as I stand.

Do the job. Collect the check. Make a new plan. Move on.

Easy.

He rises with me and shocks the hell out of me when he tugs me into a hug that doesn’t allow for any awkwardness between us. I stand frozen for five full seconds before I find myself returning the embrace.

When he finally pulls away, a tiny seizure clenches my heart—a thumping and a pounding that feels like a second chance. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Nana Mae wants to see you at nine. She has…plans,” he says with the crooked smile that made me fall in love with him when I was sixteen.

I take a step backward. “Should I be scared?”

“Terrified,” he teases.

The corner of my mouth twitches, but I don’t allow a smile.

“Good night, Juniper.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say Junie, but I’m already struggling to find my equilibrium. “Good night, Cole.”

I step inside my apartment as the sky glows in shades of pink and gold, knowing if I don’t figure out how to protect my heart against the one who still holds it, what’s left of my life will blow up in my face too.

And that would be an explosion I’d never recover from.

4

RECALIBRATING

COLE

She turnsoff her apartment light, and I’m still standing on her stairs like an idiot.

I need to move, but my gaze lingers on her window. It’s been years since I was this close to her. I can’t explain the way my system recalibrates when she’s near—I just know it does, and I’ve spent six years trying to forget it.

Jesus Christ. I even failed at hugging her—at least my second attempt went better.

Spinning on my heels, I jog down the steps.

The lanterns that frame my doorway flicker with life. It was Nana Mae’s one request when she transferred ownership of the land to me so I could create The Haven.

“A porchlight tells you someone cares…someone’s waiting,” she’d said. “It means you can always come home.”

Once more, I check Junie’s window. The curtain drops suddenly. Was she standing there? Watching me?

A memory I’ve actively avoided flares to life.

“Dance with me, Cole.” Her smile tilts to the left, the aftereffects of the champagne I’ve seen her consume for the last three hours.

Not a question—it never is with her. That sharp tongue hides her soft center. It always has. But now? At eighteen? Her confidence is growing. It’s a beautiful thing.

It’s a dangerous thing too. Because as I stare at her now, eyes glimmering with mirth, she could be my downfall.

She’s fucking stunning.

I don’t know how to process the shift in my feelings.