It never had been.

Eleanor took a step toward me. She wasn't letting it go. "You and Josh, it won't last. Then what? How much will Lucas actually see of his father? Christmas every two years? He'll lose his dad anyway."

I stumbled backward, missed the sidewalk curb, and almost crumpled onto the floor.

Eleanor looked like a scared rabbit. She extended her hands as if she were begging. "I love him. I love him so much." Tears were now running down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry."

I spun around and broke into a sprint. But I didn't run fast enough: I heard Eleanor's broken sobs.

I knew how it felt to lose Josh. Six years on and my heart was still shattered.

twenty-eight.

Josh.

I wasn't a stalker.

But if the cops patrolled Cassie's road and saw me there, staring at her illuminated window from the other side of the street, they might stop and ask questions.

After my breakfast with Bruce Carrington, I'd spent the rest of the day and evening in touch with the U.S., either calling my lawyer in Kansas City, and Skyping with headhunters in D.C. Despite Carrington's threats, the job front still looked promising, as did the adoption. Sure, one of the interviews had been cancelled at the last minute. And there will be more if I were to stay on Carrington's black list.

Could I make it happen?

I wasn't that clueless seventeen-year old anymore, but could I take care of a family?

I was out of my depth. And the shots of Jack I'd knocked back throughout the day hadn't made things clearer. My brain was fully functioning, but my heart was... well, my heart was still beating but I was so numb inside, that an EKG would most likely have been flat.

Being closer to Cassie was a sure way to pick the old heartbeat up. She'd always managed to spice up my life and make me feel. She could make me feel good. She also could make me feel bad, real bad.

I checked my watch: 1:21 a.m. She wasn't sleeping either. I saw her walking across her room on the second floor, readjusting her hairband and tightening her ponytail. It was like traveling back in time when we used to sneak into each other's bedrooms at night. For years, it had been only to talk; later to make out.

I crossed the road and stepped into the gravel driveway in front of her house. I knelt down and took a couple of stones in my hand. With a toned-down version of my best quarterback throw, I targeted her bedroom window. Hopefully, I wouldn't break anything. I didn't, but there was no reaction from inside her room either. I threw the other stone and waited another minute. Silence. The lights were still on.

Reminding myself that it was the twenty-first century, not Romeo and Juliet's Verona, I grabbed my cell and dialed Cassie's number. The call went straight to voice mail. I looked back at the road behind and the faint lights of the streetlamps. I should get back to Patrick's place and get some rest. There was nothing for me here, especially not in the middle of the night, when I'd drunk far too much.

Cassie used to make me feel. She also used to keep me from thinking straight. Some things didn't change. I checked my surroundings. No police, no neighbor taking his dog or his newborn for a night walk. The path was clear, unless Sam was peeking through the living room window. In which case, I was up for a fight.

The entrance door to the house was framed by a small roofed porch. With my arms up I could touch the top of the porch. With a push I hung at the edge of the roof. I balanced my body, back and forth, back and forth again, and slipped my foot onto the wooden beam that supported the roof. I pulled myself upwards. In a series of swift movements that would have made the kid I used to be proud, I managed to sit on the roof of the porch.

I gave Cassie's window a gentle knock. She appeared, frowning. When she saw me, her eyes widened. The sash window slid open and her head peeped out. Her head and her headphones.

She removed them. "How old do you think you are?" Her voice was severe, but I could hear the humor about to break through it. .

"Twelve."

At that age, there'd been no kissing involved during my night visits. "And for the record, I suspect Mrs. O. always knew I was sneaking into your room."

Cassie stepped aside to give enough space for me to squeeze through the window. I landed on my feet and promised myself that I would work out more often. My quarterback days felt like they belonged to another lifetime. I walked around the limited space of her bedroom. "Bare" was a polite way of describing it: a mattress splayed across the floor, a shabby dresser, and that was it.

"It would be helpful if, from now on, you left your cell on. It might save me from breaking my neck."

"Each incoming call costs me money. So I switch my cell off when I don't need it. Like in the middle of the night."

She crossed her arms over her chest in that stubborn way of hers I'd never managed to erase from my mind. She was wearing an off-white nightgown with a halter neck that bared her shoulders. It also uncovered that parcel of skin between her breasts. Nothing provocative, but enough to bring her taste back to my mouth.

Heat ignited in the pit of my stomach. I coughed, walked back to the window, and sat on the edge of it.

"Still listening to Bonnie Raitt?" I pointed at the headphones she'd thrown on top of her suitcase.

"Joni Mitchell."

"With you it's always one of the two. I'm sorry you never got a chance to try something with your music." I really was.

"It wasn't meant to be," she shrugged, then uncrossed her arms. She joined her hands in front of her. "What did you need to tell me that couldn't wait for tomorrow?"

Nothing actually couldn't wait for tomorrow, but I had to come up with something, otherwise I'd look creepy.

"I talked to the lawyer. He's putting all the paperwork together. We should be able to launch the adoption proceedings at the beginning of next week."

That piece of info could definitely have waited for tomorrow.

"Good."

"So you've booked your flight for Saturday?" I asked.

She nodded. "I wanted to leave earlier but the tickets cost twice as much. So I took the first flight I could afford."

"Tell me how much it was and I'll transfer the amount to you."

Cassie shuddered and her lips pressed together in a thin line. "I don't want your money."

Her fists were clenched and I could feel the heat of her anger reaching across the space that separated us. I'd screwed up. So I stepped toward her, taking hold of her forearm, ignoring how soft her skin was under the palm of my hand.

"Cass, I was only trying to help." She jerked her arm away from my touch. "If we get Lucas back, we'll have to share our resources, you know."

"I want to help as much as I can." Her tone was final. "I'm no gold digger." She crossed her arms again. I could have sworn she was pouting.

She was so cute-in that stubborn way of hers-that I burst into laughter. My reaction pissed her off even more. "You're smart enough to know that there's not much gold to dig out of me... Yet."

"Everything I earn will go to taking care of Lucas," she murmured.

There was something underneath her words, a wound I hadn't seen before. It was big and it was between us.

"Anyway, all this could have waited for tomorrow. Why are you really here?"

I lowered my gaze because I felt like a kid who hadn't done his homework. What the hell was I doing here, well past midnight, in the tiny room of the girl who'd broken my heart?

I shrugged. "I don't know."

She uncrossed her arms again. A wisp of hair had escaped from her ponytail and my hand reached for it. I tucked it behind her ear and the tips of my fingers brushed against her jawline. I wanted them to run down her neck, the valley between her breasts and pretty much everywhere else. My need for her made me breathless.

"I guess old habits die hard." Another shrug. I begged her with my eyes not to push.

She ignored my plea. "What do you mean by that?"

I rubbed the back of my neck looking for an explanation that made sense. None did. So I gave up. "I haven't changed as much as I thought, as much as I tried to... Whenever you get close, I have to get closer."

twenty-nine.

Cassie.

I muffled a yelp.

I blinked.

I hadn't expected his words, not now, not ever. I hadn't expected for Josh's soul to walk stark naked in front of me. The fact he'd let it happen made me giddy. My knees went weak.

"The truth, Cass, the truth is that I've missed you. I've missed our friendship. I've missed talking to you, laughing with you, teasing you." He chuckled but his smile was sad. "Because when you sing about home, it makes me think of you."

He hunched over and his shoulders drooped. My sight got blurry. I forced myself to stay put. But who was I kidding? No matter what the sensible part of my brain was yelling at me, I couldn't hear it because I'd switched it off.

When Josh looked up at me, I tensed my body to ward off shaking. He was hurting, hurting for me. I took a step. Two steps, until I stood next to him, so close his breath smoothed over my face. The heat between us tingled at my skin.

He was so tall, so broad, so strong. And still, I could feel his pain, a pain only I could heal. I curved my body into him, and as soon as our chests touched he shuddered and stiffened. But when my forehead leaned against his jaw, the tension in him went away. His arms moved as if he wanted to wrap them around me but then changed his mind.

I wanted him to cuddle me. Just a cuddle, a moment of him I could take with me. I shut my eyes and breathed in the scent of his skin. I let it wake my memories of our first time under the cotton tree and I wanted to taste his lips again. I stared up at him. His gaze was lowered, and my hands reached up to cup his face. I went on my tip-toes. Even then, because of his height, I had to tilt back my head to look at him.

My fingers brushed at his cheeks, slid along his neck, buried themselves in his hair. I moved even closer until the tip of my nose touched his. I heard the sound of his breath trapped in his throat. Our eyes locked. I moved my face against his in our secret way, our kiss without a kiss. But it wasn't enough. In his next breath, his mouth reached for mine.

There was no foreplay, no tugging, no teasing. Our tongues collided like a war. His hands grabbed my butt, pushed my hips against his, and I loved feeling him hard. Hard for me, only me. He lifted me as if I were feather light. My legs twined around his waist, my arms scraping against the fine hairs at the base of his neck. I wanted to fade into him.

In a few strides, he'd crossed my tiny room. He knelt and bent forward until my back rested on the mattress. My legs still circled around him. The second our lips parted, I whimpered. Josh's hands reached for the back of his collar and pulled his T-shirt over his head like I'd seen him do so many times. I loved the way his hands removed each article of clothing. I'd seen him shirtless before, but my memories didn't do justice to the real thing.

I took support on my elbows and lifted myself up. My eyes ran through the sharp lines of his shoulders, the bulge of his pecs. The six-pack I'd known was still there, but what I loved the most were the sinewy muscles that went down into his jeans in a deep V. There was no hair spoiling the softness of his skin. I licked my upper lip.

The fire in his eyes told me he was hungry for me. His pupils were dilated as if he were high. "Your body spoiled me for life."

I let his fingers make their way up my thighs, under the hem of my bunched-up dress. I expected him to reach for my panties, but he stopped at the edge. The ache between my legs begged for him to go farther. His eyes searched my face. He hesitated. I didn't want him to.

"Please." The word made it through my dry throat.

His jaw tensed. "After you, no one was ever enough."

"After you, there was no one."

He plunged toward me. His hand grabbed the back of my neck. His mouth owned me but he kept the rest of his body cut from mine. He stopped kissing me with a groan. With both his hands he untied my dress from around my neck. Slowly, the top slid down my breasts, my tummy, finished wrapped up around my waist. I looked down at myself without any shame as if being naked in front of Josh was totally natural.

He lowered his head and nibbled at my breasts, one after the other, flicking them with his tongue. They swelled under his steady touch, and I swear his sucking granted me an extra cup size. That's when I felt the tips of his fingers tracing a path over my skin, along the edge of my panties. He started at my hip, ended between my legs.

I whimpered again.

The corner of his mouth lifted. His finger made his way beneath my panties, deep inside of me. His thumb played with me. That part of my body turned into a volcano. I wanted to let it erupt with all the pleasure I hadn't felt, with all the orgasms Josh had kept from me. For six long years.

I swept out of my mind the images of him giving them to other girls, to another girl. Tonight, it was my turn. I wouldn't be sharing.

He unwrapped my legs from around his waist, put them back together and made my panties slide along them. He threw them somewhere on the threadbare carpet and stood to get rid of his jeans, his boxer shorts.

I swallowed. Hard.

My memories hadn't been fair to Josh at all. Seeing him like that, hard and ready, I worried about my own size.

"I won't hurt you, Cass."

He spread my legs wide. I didn't have time to feel exposed or embarrassed or mortified. His face was already buried between my legs. His tongue filled me, then tracked up to that over-sensitive part. He brushed it, tickled it. First it was a tease, then it built up inside, so strong I wanted to burst.

He broke contact and looked at me. "Are you okay with this? We never did it before."

I nodded. At that point, I was up for pretty much anything as long as it involved Josh, me and the mattress. Although the floor could do as well.

He was good at it. Very good. Not that I could compare it to anything or anyone else, but waves of pleasure rippled through me. They were so delicious that I wanted to taste them. His fingers grazed at my entrance, parted me, then withdrew, grazed again. He was killing me.

I lifted my arms and my hands took hold of the pillow underneath my head, clutching the material. The waves stopped. Tension replaced them, building up inside me. I was like a string stretched to the max and I needed some release. I wanted to explode, but at the same time, I had to hold on to it a little longer. And that contradiction took me even further to the cliff.

"Let yourself go, Cassie. Take it." He placed his palms flat on the insides of my legs and spread me even wider.

"I want to make it last," I whispered.

He kissed my inner thighs. "We're a long way from dawn."

Our gazes crashed into each other over my body. I nodded again. I let my head fall back against the pillow and Josh led me to where I wanted to be.

I came. Long and hard. I was burning from the inside. I cried out, with my eyes shut and the pleasure buzzing between my ears. My body shook and trembled and it kept me going a little longer.

I felt my dress sliding from my waist, down my body, then Josh lay beside me. His heat comforted me. His hand rested flat on my tummy as if he owned what had happened inside, as if he could make it happen all over again by whirling his fingers and saying "abracadabra."