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Another smile spills softly over Skylar’s face. I feel so many intense things all at once, just from that smile he’s giving me right now.

“So why is she getting married here?” I ask.

“Her fiancé works out here. They have a place on the other side of the bridge. Shit, we really have lost touch,” he says suddenly with a frown. “You and I. Why’d we go so long without calling each other? Did I piss you off or something?”

“No, no!” I say with an anxious laugh. “I guess I just … I don’t know. It was a tough time for me after I dropped out. I lived at home for a month or two, feeling sorry for myself. Then I got a great opportunity through the company my dad works for, which moved me here. And even though that didn’t work out,” I then go on with a shrug, “I just kinda fell in love with this city and … stayed.”

“I get it. I’ve just been here a day and already I feel its charm.” He goes for a sip of water.

I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he drinks.

The truth I’m not sure I can say is that the idea of maintaining a long-distance friendship with him after college was too much to bear. I felt bad about abandoning all my brothers at the fraternity. Skylar especially. I would have done anything to stay at that school, to be around him, to feel like I was still a part of the brotherhood.

“You look like you’ve got a lot of things on your mind,” he observes.

I jerk out of my thoughts. “What?”

Sky squints at me. “I feel like …” He bites his bottom lip, like he tastes something sweet. “I feel like if we start talking about the good old days, we’d never stop … you and I.”

I try not to smile ear to ear. I don’t succeed. “I feel the same way.”

It isn’t long before our food comes, and my eyes are met with the spiciest lobster bisque I’ve ever had. With every spoonful, I put on a big brave face and desperately try to keep up our small talk across the table, even as a sheen of sweat forms over my forehead and my cheeks flush from the heat.

Skylar notices, but says nothing as he hungrily scarfs his down. I’m sure he also notices me going for my glass of water between every bite. My poor cloth napkin gets ten times its normal use as I press it to my nose every five seconds. I’m nearly crying by the time I get to the last bite.

And just when I think the torture is done, we are brought out two large pasta dishes that literally look aflame with spicy tomato sauce. Even the cute green garnish—which I do eat in desperation—does next to nothing to temper the heat. I feel like a hole has been burned straight through my belly. The only saving grace is how damned scrumptious it tastes, despite my tongue being seared halfway off.

“That’s so you,” Skylar says after they take our dishes away, fighting off a smile.

I’m still wiping away tears. “Uh, what’s me?”

“Playing off how much pain you’re in.”

I stare at his full set of lips, the cute flip of hair he’s got going on, his natural blush creeping over his cheeks that make them look set on fire, like he’s always blushing prematurely at an adorably dorky joke he hasn’t made yet.

He has no idea how in pain I am right now.

I should probably tell him. This is the best time to do it, isn’t it? Why not tell him the truth and let him get to know the real me?

“Skylar,” I start. “I need to tell you something.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

I swallow hard and stare deeply into his eyes as if they’re two hands I’m clinging to, hanging off the edge of a cliff. I feel like maybe I should have taken Connor’s advice and not worn the hat. What am I? Still a rebellious teenager? I also think my stomach is full of lava that’s trying to burn its way out.

Maybe it isn’t the food. It’s my secret, burning like a deep, dark fire within me.

It’s time to set it free. Three, two, one …

“Our dinner’s paid for,” I blurt out instead.

Coward.

He blinks, surprised. “Oh, that’s fucking nice of you, man! We could have split the bill, you know.”

Oops. He thinks I paid for it. “Sorry, I meant—”

“So you wanna get out of here, then?” he asks.

I bite my lip. I guess the misunderstanding isn’t that big of a deal. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t itching to show my guy the big city. “I sure do!”

3

The streets are crowded, loud, and full of color and flashing lights. We try to keep up a decent conversation, but find ourselves shouting so much that we both apparently give up and just continue walking alongside each other, enjoying the sights.

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