10 Years Later

He frowned and shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone looked up to you in high school. I don’t think you saw yourself how we all saw you. You’ve always had this energy about you that was so charming, so captivating. People wanted to be around you, and they trusted you, Dalton. If you said something, people believed it.” I frowned at him, a little shocked that he didn’t know this already. To me, it was so obvious.

He shrugged, as if unsure. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

He slanted a glance at me. “Did you want to be around me?”

“Are you kidding me? I’d been in love with you since English class our freshman year.” When he leaned away from me as if I’d just struck him with something, I asked timidly, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No. I just had no idea how you felt about me.”

Now it was my turn to feel sucker-punched. “What?” I choked out. “How is that even possible?”

“You always acted so nonchalant when it came to us. I kissed you every chance I got, but—”

Amazed that he’d thought that, I blurted, “I always figured you never really liked me. I assumed you didn’t want to be a couple or anything serious like that, but I liked you so much that I didn’t care. I was taking whatever you’d give me because you were the only thing that made me feel. I went numb after my dad died. It wasn’t until you that I could feel anything at all.”

“Do you remember the day in the darkroom?” he asked.

“Which time?” I said with a laugh.

“The day I asked you if you wanted to define what we were? Do you remember that? When you asked me what we were doing?”

I nodded as the memory came flooding back. “I do.”

“You said that you didn’t know and that we didn’t have to,” he huffed out, clearly exasperated.

“Oh my God, I lied! I was totally lying. Of course I wanted to define us, but I was too scared to tell you that,” I admitted.

“I didn’t know you were lying!” he all but shouted.

“Of course I lied. I’m a girl,” I said with a shrug. “I was just trying to play it cool and be what I thought you wanted me to be.”

“Well, I’m a guy. And guys believe what you tell them. We’re not good with hints, or beating around the bush, or any of that shit. We ask a question, you give an answer, the end.”

“Shit,” I breathed out on a slight laugh.

Dalton sighed and shifted on the bed, turning so he was completely facing me. “And while we’re being honest, I was terrified to push you too hard. I mean, I wanted us to be together officially, but I thought that if I pushed you for that, you’d bolt. And I didn’t want you to run away.” He reached out his hand and looped his index finger around mine.

His touch was warm and sent tingles throughout my body. Curling my finger around his, I said, “And I thought that wasn’t what you wanted at all, so I pretended that I didn’t want it either. But I did. Why didn’t we ever talk about all this back then?”

“Well, my excuse is that I grew up in such a dysfunctional house, so I figured not talking about things was normal. I never wanted to lose you, Cammie, but in the end, I did anyway.”

“We’re a mess,” I admitted as Dalton’s phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket.

Glancing down, he muttered a curse. “I have to take this. Sorry,” he said before I waved him off. “What’s up?” he barked into the phone, then listened. “Right now? He is? You’re sure? Yeah, I know. Got it. Thanks, Eddie.”

He ended the call and moved from the bed. “I’m so sorry, Cammie, I have to go. That case we’re working on. I can’t say anything else, but, well, I have to go.”

“It’s okay.” I let out a frustrated breath, pulled between being disappointed that our night was ending already and respecting his profession. “Go.”

He reached out his hand for me and tugged me from the bed before pulling me against his chest. “You’re so little without your shoes on.” He looked down at me and I grimaced.

“You’re so . . . Ah, crap, I’ve got nothing.” I laughed as a comeback escaped me.

“Here.” He moved me away and shoved his phone in my hands. “Put your number in my phone. I’m not letting you get away this time.” He stared down at me, giving me a mock stern look. “I hope I’m being clear.”