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Even though I know it won’t do me any good, my gaze coasts anxiously over the ever-swelling crowd. Nerves dance across my spine as I silently pray Hunter will be absent from the revelry. Or, if he is here, we’ll somehow be able to avoid one another.
If I know Lanie—and I do—she’ll be up my ass to cut loose and have fun. How can I do that when Hunter and I now attend the same college? At any given moment, I could turn a corner and smack right into him.
The thought of that happening makes me nauseous.
As much as I want to play it cool and act like my ex-boyfriend doesn’t matter, the words slip from my mouth before I can stop them. “You don’t think he’ll be here, do you?” I shoot her a look that’s rife with concern.
Lanie doesn’t bother to ask who I’m referring to. She doesn’t have to. She’s all too aware of my past. She had a front row seat to our relationship and its demise.
“I don’t know.” She pauses and pops her shoulders into a careless shrug. “Maybe.”
“What?”My feet grind to a halt as my mouth dries, turning cottony. I’m barely aware of the blades of straw poking my feet through the leather sandals. “But you said—”
Her expression hardens, transforming into one of impatience. “Even if heishere, the chances of you running into him are slim.” She waves an arm toward the massive group of students who have gathered to mourn the end of summer by drinking themselves into a stupor. “Look around. Half the university is here. There’s no way you’re going to see him, Skye, so stop worrying about it and live a little.”
My teeth sink into my lower lip before I suck the fullness into my mouth. No matter what Lanie says, I’m going to worry.
When I remain silent, my best friend plants her hands on her hips and glares. Here comes Lanie’s version of tough love.
“Would you rather sit home by yourself on a Saturday night because you’re too chickenshit to show your face? Afraid that youmightrun into Hunter Price?”
I’m sorry, is that really a question?
From the annoyed expression that flickers across Lanie’s face, I decide to keep those thoughts to myself.
“Skye Elizabeth Sinclair!”
I wince as my full name cracks through the air. It brings an unpleasant image of my mother to mind. This is what I get for living with someone who isn’t afraid to call me out on my bullshit. Maybe I should have taken Dad up on the offer to live with him.
I decide to go with something close to the truth. “I was hoping to avoid him for a while,” I mutter. “That’s all.”
And when I saya while, what I really mean is forever.
Is that really too much to ask?
Lanie sighs as her expression softens. Marginally. “I know, but you’re going to run into him on campus or at a party eventually. It’s inevitable. Accept it and move on.”
I snort.
Easy for her to say. Lanie doesn’t have any ghosts from her past that are ready to jump out and scare her.
I have a carefully constructed plan in place for the year. It involves lying low and flying under the radar, so Hunter doesn’t even know I’m here. “Yeah, I guess…”
Unwilling to let me backslide, Lanie loops her arm through mine and pulls me toward the growing group of partiers. “It’ll be fine. I promise.”
Unfortunately, my bestie isn’t in a position to guarantee me anything, and we both know it.
The closer we get to the party, the more my anxiety ratchets up. At least night has fallen. The only light emanates from the bonfire that flickers in the distance and the stars that twinkle across the dark velvety sky.
For the time being, I’ll remain vigilant. There’s really nothing more I can do.
I inhale a deep breath before carefully blowing it out.
Maybe Lanie’s right, and I’m making a big deal out of nothing. It’s been three years since we’ve seen each other, and a lot has happened since then. We’ve both moved on with our lives. I’m sure he’s forgotten all about me. As those thoughts circle through my head, my shoulders loosen from around my ears, and my heart stops thumping a painful beat.
The moment we reach the outer ring of people, Lanie is swept off her booted feet and spun around in a tight circle like a rag doll. Her short floral dress flies around her thighs. Laughter rings throughout the air as her arms slip around her boyfriend’s neck.
Jaxon Conway has a typical football player’s physique. He’s a mountain of a man—tall, broad in the shoulders, and muscular. He looks like he could easily bench press Lanie’s VW Bug. I would be intimidated by him, but he’s quick to laugh and has warm brown eyes. He’s like a teddy bear—big and gruff on the outside but tender and mushy on the inside.
