10 Years Later

I wanted to cry. I hadn’t realized just how badly I truly wanted to see Dalto

n until him not showing up was an unavoidable truth. Disappointment and I had become one. Look up the word in the dictionary, and you’d see my face right next to it.

“Oh God, look who’s here!” Jenna squealed as she pointed toward the open double doors. “Look.” She nudged Kristy. “You were asking about him earlier, and now he’s here!”

I turned to look in the direction Jenna was pointing, and it was as if the room had become the Red Sea and parted in the wake that was Dalton Thomas. My stomach clenched as a flood of emotions filled me.

He was here. And as far as I could tell, he was alone, thank God. Right when I would have bet my hard-earned money that he wasn’t showing up, here he was. And Christ on a cracker, had he aged well. He might not have been all that good looking in high school, but the years had been more than kind.

His sandy-brown hair was still a little too long and almost hung in his eyes, the way it had back then. The charcoal-gray suit he was wearing looked damn good on him, like it was tailored for him. He might have been a boy ten years ago, but his body was all man now, complete with broad shoulders, defined arm muscles, and thick in places I could only imagine.

Stop imagining.

My world immediately imploded at the sight of him. Everything I’d tried to convince myself of over the last ten years had been an absolute lie—that he no longer affected me, that I was all but over him, that it was just a high school fling that meant nothing. Seeing him now made me realize that Dalton would always be a part of me. It was as simple, and as complicated, as that. Whether he wanted to be or not, he was my first love. Whether I wanted him to claim that title or not, it was his, and it always would be. You could never give the firsts of anything away to someone else; life didn’t work like that.

My stomach rolled and churned as he walked deeper in the room, his presence even more commanding than it once was. The invisible cord that stretched between us tightened, yanking on my heart. Knowing Dalton was near, my body reacted. My breath came out in shortened bursts, my heart pounded so hard I heard each throb in my ears, and heat flooded my entire body.

Fascinated, I watched as grown men ran excitedly to his side and slapped him with high fives, fist bumps, and manly back-patting hugs. Women ran from all directions to greet him with full-body hugs. Was it my imagination, or was Dalton looking past the people who surrounded him? He searched the room, his eyes scanning for something, and hope lurched in my silly chest.

“How you doing?” Kristy whispered, the question innocent enough.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I admitted before abruptly shoving away from the table and making my escape, heading as far away from Dalton as I could get. Pushing open the women’s bathroom door, I raced to the sink and gripped the counter with both hands. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to steady my breathing, which was unsteady, to say the least.

Memories of kissing Dalton filled my head, and I shook it, trying to release them . . .

• • •

“What are we doing? Not that I mind kissing you or anything,” I’d mumbled against Dalton’s lips as I broke the kiss and struggled to catch my breath. Pressing against his hard body in the photography darkroom, I’d silently prayed that no one would come in and interrupt us. “But what is this?”

“Do you want to define it, Cammie?” He squared his jaw to look at me before he leaned down and kissed me again. “Is that what you want?” he asked between kisses, his hands firmly holding me in place. “Tell me.”

I did want that. I wanted to define what we were, have a T-shirt made with the definition, and wear it every single day to school. But I was terrified if I admitted that to Dalton, he’d go away, and whatever this was between us would stop. And kissing Dalton Thomas had become the brightest part of my darkest days. I wasn’t ready for it to end, whatever this was.

“I don’t know,” I said, then my mouth betrayed my brain. “No. I guess we don’t have to.”

“I like kissing you.” He spoke the words so sweetly that I not only believed them, but I would have bought whatever he was selling.

“I like kissing you too.”

“Then don’t stop.” His mouth covered mine as my hands slid up his neck and tangled in his hair.

• • •

Seeing Dalton, the one thing I came here for, had thrown me. I thought I was ready to face him, our history, and the way he had once made me feel so much after not feeling anything at all, but he rattled me.

It had been ten years, for crying out loud, but right now it felt as if no time had passed. Nothing I told myself could have prepared me for what it felt like to see him in real life. Up until this point, the idea of seeing Dalton again had been just that—an idea, a notion, a fantasy.

To have him standing in the same room as me, breathing the same air, it was overwhelming. I thought I knew what I wanted, but I had no clue what that was anymore. All rational thoughts flew out the window the second he entered the room. Kristy had mentioned closure, but that was the furthest thing from my mind. Right now all I wanted was the opposite of closure, whatever the hell that was.

When I opened my eyes, I stared at my reflection, surprised. My makeup and hair still looked flawless. For whatever reason, I’d half expected my outside to be just as frazzled as my insides.

The restroom door burst open as Kristy entered. “Are you okay?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Just trying to get it together.” I forced a smile. “Please tell me I’m not pathetic. I just saw him and got all emotional. Please tell me I’m not being stupid and weak and dumb.”

“You’re not. Cammie, the way he was there for you after your dad . . .”

Kristy paused and didn’t finish her sentence. It was a subject I rarely talked about, and she knew better than to get into details about my father unless she wanted me to lose it completely in this hotel bathroom.