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Chapter 2
Connor
“Hey, Gavin.”
Connor stepped through the back door of his buddy Gavin’s house, giving a light knock as he did. The knock was just out of habit. They were practically family, and that was how Gavin and Genevieve came in Connor’s side door, too. They weren’t the kind to stand on formality.
As Connor stepped into the kitchen, Gavin looked up from the bowl of oatmeal that sat on the table in front of him. “Hey, man. Come on in.”
Connor grinned and gestured toward the oatmeal. “Gen trying to get you eating healthy again?”
Ignoring this, Gavin replied, “I’ll be done in five and then we can go out to the shed and work on the ’stang.”
“Sounds good. Don’t hurry.”
Genevieve came in carrying two cups of coffee. She smiled when she saw him standing there. “Mornin’, Connor. Can I get you a plate? Or coffee? There’s plenty.”
He shook his head and took a seat at the table. “Ate before I came. Thanks, though.”
She sat in the chair across from Gavin’s and slid one of the cups across to him. He reached out to take it and their fingers brushed during the transfer. They shared a secret little smile and for that moment, they were the only two in the room. Hell, in the world.
Connor’s gut twisted a little at the sight of it. He wasn’t jealous. Not really. He just wanted that so bad for himself that it hurt to see it. That thing where you and somebody else were the only two people floating around on your own little planet.
He’d had that once, and lost it. Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever get it back.
Stop moping. You know the answer. She was a once-in-a-lifetime girl, and those don’t come around twice. Hell, it says that right in the name.
“Hey, Connor.” Genevieve’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.
“Oh, no,” he teased. “I know that face. That’s your ‘bad news’ face. What’s going on? You having second thoughts about Gavin and me spending the day working on the ’stang?”
The two friends had gone in together on a ’65 Mustang convertible the year before and had been spending pretty much all of their spare time fixing it up. Connor had wondered when Gen might pull the plug.
“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just…”
She trailed off and exchanged a worried glance with Gavin. Here it was again, another example of how they operated like a unit. Gavin picked up where she’d left off.
“It’s about Luna,” he started, immediately putting Connor on high alert. He hadn’t even seen his once-in-a-lifetime girl in ten years, but every protective instinct in his body fired up as if it’d just been yesterday.
“What is it? What happened?” His voice came out so tight and tense that he almost didn’t recognize the sound of it himself.
“Nothing, she’s fine. Just fine,” Gen rushed to assure him. “Sorry to scare you. It’s her Grandpa Serge. He’s in the hospital.”
A pit formed in Connor’s gut. While he was relieved that nothing had happened to Luna, this wasn’t much better. Serge was a great old guy, and he’d always treated Connor like a son.
“What’s the matter with him?”
“He had a heart attack.”
The voice that answered his question didn’t belong to Genevieve or Gavin. It came from behind him, and it was one he hadn’t heard in well over a decade. That didn’t matter, though. He recognized it immediately. Every nerve ending in his body did too, and responded by standing on end.
Gen squealed and jumped up from the table, running past Connor. “Luna! Oh, girl, it’s good to see your face! Come in and sit down!”
He didn’t turn around. He wanted to. Hell, yes, he wanted to. The temptation to clap eyes on Luna after all those years was strong. But there was something inside him that felt like it might shatter the minute he saw her. It wasn’t logical, but he didn’t give a fuck about logic right then.
Hearing that voice again, so bell-like and musical, brought a memory flashing back inside his head. It was one he tried not to think about. Ever. But there it was, invading his brain like the Allied troops storming the beach at Normandy.
Luna, standing in front of her car, packed to the gills with all the things she was taking with her to college. Her on one side of the open driver’s side door, him on the other. She won’t meet his eyes, but he can see there are tears running down her cheeks.
