The Naked Truth (The Honeybrook Hamdens)

"To infinity and beyond. Forever and ever and then, when forever ends, until the next forever."

"Jules--"

"Julie," she spat. "You know what? Just tell Luke I called." She hopped from the stool and started out, not bothering to look at the people watching her as she went.

She'd made it halfway up the high street before she realized footsteps were following her.

And when she spun around, it was Chase Westmore's angular face that was caught in the streetlight. She glanced around, but the street was empty. It was just him and her and the distant sounds of the bar's too-loud country music.

"We need to talk," Chase said. "We're not kids anymore."

She couldn't say why it happened. Maybe it was the eerie similarity between now and the last time they'd had a chat like this, but she remembered him as he'd been all those years ago.

That night it had been raining, she remembered. He was on the tree branch outside of her bedroom, hoping to come inside. Probably hoping to explain why he'd lied. Why he'd broken her heart.

But just like that night, she was done.

He'd already had his chance, and he'd blown it.

"No, we're not children anymore," she said.

"Will you let me explain?"

"The past is behind us."

"Clearly, it isn't." He took another step toward her. She hesitated, wondering whether or not to step back. But he was still far enough off, so she stayed there, stuck in place, though god only knew why.

"Chase--"

"I was an idiot. I shouldn't have--"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Please. I need you to."

"But why? It's not like we...it's not going to make a difference."

"It will to me. I don't want you to think I'm some kind of coward."

"Fine. If it makes such a difference to you, then talk. But I'm not here to dole out forgiveness."

"I understand." He took another step toward her and she held her breath, closing her eyes for a moment before swallowing hard and focusing on him again.

She couldn't deny that she'd wondered what he might have said that night on the ledge. Probably something suave and charming. Something to make her laugh despite herself. That was what he did.

And that was why she hadn't let him.

Not that time.

And maybe not this time, either.

This was his chance.

In all the years since the last time he'd seen her, he'd imagined this moment. Though, in truth, he'd imagined that he'd be looking at the young, sweet girl she'd been then. Back then, her lip had quivered when she'd closed the window. Her eyes had been wide and thoughtful. The sorrow in them had pained him.

But now? With her arms crossed over her ample breasts, her bright blue eyes narrowed into icy slits? He didn't know what to do.

But he knew he had to try.