I smiled up at him. We were the first couple on the dance floor, swaying to the music of a popular love song. His eyes burned into mine and I realized he was thinking about how to say the words neither of us wanted to speak. He remained silent until the song was almost finished.

"Do you think we can make this work?"

I drew in a breath. I wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but I was positive I wouldn't like the direction the conversation was heading in.

"What do you mean?"

"There are so many reasons for us not to go to Boston, Mal," he said.

"What reasons?" I retorted. I knew he was afraid but he wouldn't admit it.

When the song ended, he dragged me from the dance floor out onto the balcony and found us a quiet corner to talk.

"Where were we?" he asked.

He ran a hand through his hair, an action I'd once adored and thought was s.e.xy, but now I despised. Every little thing he did annoyed me.

I folded my arms over my chest defensively. "Reasons for not going to Boston."

"Right. There are so many reasons. Your dad, Mal "

"My dad! That's your reason? My dad has nothing to do with us, with our future. How dare you bring him into this! He has been the one pushing me to go away to college, to get away from the small town life. You don't get to use him as an excuse," I whispered harshly.

I knew better than to yell, but boy, did I want to. My dad was pushing me harder than anyone I knew to get out of Casper, to make a life for myself. He wanted more for me than he had in his life. And I wanted more, too. Girls in Casper ended up married and pregnant within two years of high school graduation. I didn't want to be just another statistic. I wanted more.

"Okay, forget your dad. Do you really want to live in a huge city with so many people around day and night?"

He was grasping for straws and we both knew it.

"I've already told you how I feel about city life, Luke. If you don't want to go, just say so. Stop trying to make me out to be the bad guy. I have been up front and honest about what I want since the day we met," I said.

"I'm sorry, Mallory. We just want different things," he said hoa.r.s.ely.

His eyes were red and I thought he might cry. His sadness only fueled my anger.

"Don't apologize, Luke. Obviously, you don't know a single thing about me. Do me a favor, though. Stay out of my way for the rest of the summer and in the fall, I'll be out of your life for good. You win."

The agony of that night had lasted all summer and well into my freshman year of college. I hadn't dated much because of the ache my heart felt every time a guy called me "Mal" the way Luke did. As much as I told myself I wouldn't, I ended up comparing every guy I dated to him and each one fell short.

I finally ignored guys completely and focused on my job and my studies. I kept busy enough to forget the pain, or at least bury it deep enough that I couldn't feel it anymore. There was an occasional date, but only because my roommates forced it on me. But coming home had been like someone dug up the grave of my broken heart and spread it out for all to see. I tried to keep my conflicting emotions under wraps, but my dad suddenly stopped mid-sentence and looked at me.

"Mallory? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dad."

I lied, the proof plain to see in the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes. It was all too much. I didn't want to relive my past, especially not under the watchful eyes of Luke Bates.

"You've had a long week, girl. I think you should stay at the house tonight, get some sleep, and then you can come pick me up in the morning," Dad said. "Luke, would you give her a ride home? She's clearly exhausted."

"Dad, I don't need a ride. I'm fine," I explained. I didn't want to be alone in a car with Luke, no matter how tired I was.

"Don't you talk back to me, Mallory Anne! I'm still your father and you'll listen to what I say," he replied. He tried not to smile but failed. A grin formed on his face and he turned to Luke. "Well, you going to give her a ride or not?"

"Yes, sir, I'd be happy to."

Luke's dark brown eyes flashed when they met mine and he stood, tossing what was left of his dinner in the trash.

I was trapped. Disobeying my father was out of the question but I wasn't going to ride with Luke. I could probably just walk out with him and then jump in my own car. That could work.

"Fine, Dad. Whatever you want." I stood to kiss his forehead. "I'll be back first thing in the morning to pick you up."

"That's my girl," he said with a smile.

I returned his smile and made my way out of his room. Luke followed me and when we were several doors down in the hallway, I stopped.

"Why are you going along with him?"

"Why? He'll kick my a.s.s if I don't. Joe isn't exactly someone I want to p.i.s.s off, Mal." Luke's white teeth flashed out from beneath his wide lips. My breath caught in my throat but I regained my composure quickly.

"You're afraid of him? He's dying. You give new definitions to the word masculine."

I laughed at him and kept walking down the hallway. I felt Luke's hand on my arm and he pulled me into an empty room.

"You think this is easy? You broke my d.a.m.n heart three years ago and I've been the one here, taking care of your dad. I'm the one who watched his health fail and brought him to the hospital more times than I can count. I'm the one who made sure he was taken care of. And what the h.e.l.l have you been doing for the last three years? You've been living your life without a care in the world, including your dying father," he spat.

He backed me up against the wall and moved closer until his face was inches away from mine. "And don't refer to your dad like that! He's a stronger man than anyone I've ever met, and falling short in his eyes is the last thing I would ever want to do, aside from spending any amount of time with his spoiled rotten brat of a daughter, of course," he sneered.

I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. There were no words for the emotions Luke evoked in me. I stood, frozen by his presence and silenced by his speech. Guilt flooded my entire body, along with another emotion, one I hadn't expected or experienced in a long time. Desire.

No matter how ill-suited we were for each other, I was still painfully attracted to Luke in a way I couldn't explain. It was more than just the way he stood up for my dad or even the way he looked. He'd grown up over the years. Luke was right-I was still a spoiled rotten child h.e.l.l-bent on getting my way. Tears gathered in my eyes but I didn't bother to brush them away. I was afraid if I moved, Luke would stop staring at me with that hungry gaze.

I bit my lip and his eyes flicked to the movement. When he looked back to my eyes, his were even hotter and I thought he might kiss me. He leaned in closer and I closed my eyes. His fist slammed into the concrete wall next to my head and my eyes flew open, surprised to find him leaning away.

"This is stupid, Mal. We need to stay away from each other," he whispered. He looked at his hand and not at me. "Come on, I'll take you home." He turned away and went back into the hallway.

The tears fell, unhindered and unbidden.

FOUR.

Luke.

I didn't bother looking back to see whether she followed me. If I were honest with myself, for even a second, I would admit that I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to push her against that wall and kiss the breath right out of her. It was out of the question, though, no matter how much I wanted to. Not only was she the girl who'd broken my heart three years ago, she was the daughter of the man I'd come to think of as a father.

Joe Wells had been my rock when Mallory went to college. I had been beyond lonely and Joe reached out, inviting me to dinner and out to batting cages.

Joe was gone for the weekend to take Mallory to college. I felt nothing but emptiness in the cavity my heart used to occupy. My apartment was on the second floor of the building and full of treasures from my relationship with Mal. She'd been an expert at helping me make the place feel more like a home. There wasn't a single thing inside that didn't remind me of her.

She'd convinced her dad to buy new living room furniture last fall so I could have their current set. The dishes were a mismatched set she found at a yard sale last summer. The rug in my bedroom was found when we went into a second-hand store downtown. The place was full of her.

I couldn't escape her presence in my life. Everywhere I went, I saw her, a smile plastered on her face. She seemed genuinely happy about going to Boston and leaving our relationship in the dust. It tore my heart to pieces every time she pretended not to see me. Eventually, I just started getting up at six so I could get my errands in town done first thing in the morning and have less of a chance to have a run-in with her.

But news in a small town spread fast, and Baker had come over that morning to fill me in.

"She's on her way to Boston, dude," he said, taking a long drag off his cigarette. "Her dad drove her down himself."

No matter how many times I told him I didn't want him smoking in my apartment, he ignored me and did whatever he felt like doing.

I hadn't said much and eventually Baker left me alone with my thoughts. She was really gone. For the first time in my life, I cried. I welcomed the release of tears, vowing never to tell a soul about it. I needed to mourn her and our relationship.

It was about a week later when my phone rang and her familiar number flashed on the screen of my cell phone. My heart stuttered.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Hey Luke, its Joe Wells. Do you have some free time this afternoon?" he asked.

I agreed to meet him but never had any suspicion that he was about to change my life.

I stopped at the main entrance of the hospital and turned around, expecting Mallory to be right behind me. She was nowhere to be found. I walked back to the room I'd almost kissed her in and found it empty. I thought maybe we'd missed each other, so I went back to the main entrance.

I barely made it to the wide gla.s.s doors when I saw her car tear through the parking lot. She must have snuck out a side entrance and gone straight to her car, hoping to avoid me. She wasn't getting away that easily. I ran to my truck and turned the key. The engine roared to life and I was out of the parking lot in seconds.

There was a trail of dust down the road to her house, so I knew I was on the right track. I whipped into the driveway and turned the wheel, coming to a stop just a few feet away from the porch where she stood. A cloud of dusted erupted as I slammed on the brakes. I jerked my door open, climbed out, and slammed it shut.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" she shouted, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

The dust flew around her. Her eyes were fiery and narrowed at me. I stopped at the hood of my truck, not wanting to get too close. I wasn't sure I could trust myself where she was concerned.

"Me? Am I the one who snuck away like a thief in the night and drove like a maniac on back roads they haven't driven in years?"

"Don't act like you give a s.h.i.t about the way I drive, or the fact that I didn't want to ride with you. You wanted us to stay away from each other, remember?" she blurted.

Her cheeks turned red and I knew I must have struck a nerve.

"Mallory," I started forward.

Her words stopped me.

"No, Luke. You don't get to just be the victim and keep blaming me for everything. I am not about to take responsibility for the failure of our relationship. We were both accountable. Not only me." Her voice faltered. "So just stop."

She turned away and I took the porch steps two at time. I pulled her into my arms, consequences be d.a.m.ned.

She didn't push me away, though. She buried her face in my chest and cried. The heart-wrenching sobs had my heart clenching for her. Her tears soaked my t-shirt but I didn't mind. She needed to let it all out. I stayed silent while she sobbed, recognizing her need for silence.

After several minutes, she pulled away, her hands swiping at the lingering tears. "Thank you," she said with a sad smile. "You want a beer?"

"Sure," I said.

I opened the screen door for her and she pushed the main door open and let me follow her to the kitchen. She pulled two beer bottles out of the fridge and handed me one. She leaned her hip against the counter and took a long swallow.

"I didn't think city girls liked beer," I said with a chuckle.

She grinned wickedly. "I picked up a thing or two in college."

I sucked in a breath. If ever there was a double entendre...

"I don't doubt it," I said.

She raised her eyebrow at me but didn't respond. She drank more of her beer instead. Her hair was messy and her makeup smudged, but she was still beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"I know you care about my dad, Luke, but I'm here now and I am perfectly capable of taking care of him. I'll hire a contractor to come fix the porch. You don't need to work on this house for free anymore," she said, and then paused. "My dad doesn't need you anymore."

Those were the last words I expected her to say. She didn't understand. Joe never needed me. I was the one who needed him for the last few years. Joe held out hope that one day Mallory would come to her senses and come back to me, but I was more realistic. She was only here now because of her father's cancer. She hadn't come back for me.

As much as I didn't want to admit it, she was right. I didn't have any business being around Joe anymore. Mallory was more than able to take care of him. So why was I still bound and determined to hang around? There was only one answer: I was still in love with Mallory Wells.

I swallowed hard, trying to make the thought go down with the bile rising in my throat. Mallory waited for me to say something, anything. Her eyes bore into mine and I worried I would say something crazy.

"I have to go," I mumbled.

I drew my eyes away from hers but couldn't help but pa.s.s a glance over her body. She wasn't the young woman she'd been. She was a much more grown up version of herself.

"No way, Luke. You're going to explain what you meant before, about my dad being sick for years," she demanded.

"There's nothing to explain. Joe's had cancer since you were seventeen," I said.

Her face fell. "He's been suffering for years?" she whispered, her voice hoa.r.s.e. "He never told me, Luke." Her pretty blue eyes begged me to believe her. "He called me earlier this week and said it was a new development. All this time, I've been gone and he's had cancer."

I didn't know what to say. I had thought she was selfish and only concerned about herself all this time, but Joe hadn't even told her about his cancer. I could almost understand why he didn't tell her. He wanted her to live a full life in Boston and not be plagued with the need to come home and take of him. He didn't want her to have to see him when he went for his chemo treatments and watch his body all but disintegrate. But she had deserved to know, to make the decision herself.

Instead, he left the job of telling her the truth to me. He let my heart break over losing her and then break all over again when I realized he was going to die. Neither of them were going to be in my life once Joe died. Anger filled me; I wanted to kill Joe for putting Mallory through this h.e.l.l now and for putting me through h.e.l.l over the last few years. Lucky me, I wouldn't have to kill him-the cancer would take care of that.

My thoughts were mean and hardened, but I couldn't find room to care right away. I was furious with Joe. All this pain-his, hers, mine. It wasn't fair. My heart broke as tears slipped down Mallory's cheeks. She made no noise, though and I was helpless to do anything but stare as the tiny salt.w.a.ter drops made their way down her face. I couldn't move; I was frozen in place by my own bitterness. Joe would be the one who escaped this mess. He was the one got to embrace death while Mallory was going to have to live with the guilt she felt for the rest of her life.

And it was all because of me.

"I'm sorry, Mallory. I thought you knew," I said softly, still unmoving.

Her head whipped up and her eyes flashed. "You thought I knew? You thought so little of me that you believed I would leave my dying father alone for all these years? You thought I was just some spoiled little girl running away from Daddy's cancer? I didn't know, and if I had, I would have stayed. I hope, though, that I would have had the good sense to dump you, even if I hadn't gone to Boston. You're a nothing, just like every generation of deadbeats before you. Get out of this house," she demanded.

"Mal-"