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Knowing Dahlia, she would befriend him to spite me.
The older sheriff drags Dahlia into a quick bear hug. “So, what happened here?”
“You should arrest Julian for attempted murder.” Dahlia’s wicked grin sets off a blaring alarm in my head. Memories I spent years erasing surge to the forefront of my mind, flashing before me like a haunted movie reel.
The way her smile grew wider whenever I got flustered and spoke out of turn.
Her sparkling eyes looking up at me as we—no,Istifflymoved us around the dance floor during her quinceañera.
How she had a similar expression during her valedictorian speech as she thanked me, the salutatorian, for putting up a good fight throughout high school.
It’s pathetic how one smile from her can stir up countless memories, all of which are best left in the past, along with any feelings I once had for her.
Truth is, I’m not sure why Dahlia Muñoz is back, but nothing good can come of it.
Nothing good at all.
CHAPTER TWO
Dahlia
If I had known my return to Lake Wisteria would include a panic attack, a car accident, and a trolley full of townspeople waiting to greet me, I would have stayed in San Francisco. Turns out my plan to run away from my problems had a few major flaws, starting with the man who has spent the better part of his life making mine impossible.
Emergency lights flash across Julian’s tan, angular face, casting a red glow over him like a devilish halo as he speaks with the sheriff.
I was so caught up in avoiding Julian over the years that I failed to notice how much he had matured during that time.
Failed to notice? More like was intent on ignoring.
Red, flashing lights draw my eyes toward his sharp jawline, only for them to steal my attention again as they highlight his soft lips and five o’clock shadow.
Based on my eye for luxury clothes and nose for real Italian leather, I can tell Julian’s outfit tonight has to easily cost ten thousand dollars, a shocking assessment in itself. But despite his pristine suit, perfectly trimmed dark hair, and fancy designer loafers, bits and pieces of the rugged Julian I knew peek through.
The slight bump in his nose after I accidentally broke it with my elbow.
A thin, white scar running across his stubbled cheek from when we thought it was a good idea to compete for who could jump the highest from a swing set.
The firm press of his lips whenever someone speaks to him—a habit he picked up when we were kids to stop himself from talking out of turn.
As if he senses me staring at him, Julian looks in my direction. The dismissive pass of his rich brown eyes over my body should annoy me more than anything, but the goose bumps scattering across my skin show it has the opposite effect.
I turn away from Julian in a rush of self-preservation and allow his mom, Josefina, and mine to fuss over me. The two best friends both have brown hair and eyes, but their different heights, facial features, and personalities set them apart from each other.
Although our mothers became best friends growing up together in Mexico, Julian and I most definitely are not. At best, we’re family friends, while at worst, we’re childhood rivals who turn everything into a competition.
“You’ve lost weight. Are you sure you’ve been eating enough?” Mom pinches my cheeks with a dark, furrowed brow.“What do you think?” She turns me toward Josefina.
Her sour expression confirms my mom’s observation. “It’s nothing some good food can’t fix. You know,panza llena—”
“Corazón contento,” my mom finishes.
Too bad home-cooked food will only fill the empty pit in my stomach, not the one in my chest.
Mom inspects my shoulder-length hair. “¿Y qué pasó con tu pelo?”
“I cut it.”
“But why?” she moans.
