Pride

Chapter 3

“Here’s your uniform, and here’s your mop.”

“My… mop?” Harper took the outstretched polyester hoop skirt, holding it between the tips of two fingers as if afraid of catching its germs. She just stared at the mop, however-no way was she touching that thing, much less pushing it around.

“What, did you think I was going to start you out as a waitress?” Mr. White, the Nifty Fifties manager, threw his head back and burst into mean-spirited laughter, his double chins jiggling in time with his throaty cackles. Finally he stopped, rubbing his bald spot thoughtfully. “Well, you’re pretty enough to be out front, I’ll give you that.”

Harper held herself still as his beady eyes swept over her body. He was gross-but if it meant losing the mop, well… let him look.

“But you’ve got no experience,” he continued. “You can start training as a waitress as soon as your supervisor thinks you’re ready.”

“My supervisor? Aren’t you my supervisor?” Harper looked around the restaurant, wondering which of the crater-faced losers would be bossing her around. Maybe this was a good thing, she thought-at least she wouldn’t have to humiliate herself, serving people she knew. Safe in back with the mop, she could work completely undercover.

“Me?” Mr. White expelled another hearty chuckle. “I don’t supervise people at your level. No, I’ve got someone perfect for the job. In fact, you probably know her.” He stuck his bulbous head out of the kitchen door, bellowing, “Manning! Get back here for a minute.”

Harper’s knees almost gave out, and she was forced to lean against the grimy wall for support. Of course, she thought. She should have known.

“Yes, Mr. White?” Beth bounded into the kitchen and stopped short when she saw Harper, looking horrified. Harper couldn’t even take her usual pleasure at the sight of Beth in her tacky uniform, knowing full well that soon, she’d be sharing the same fate.

“Good news, I’m giving you a little helper,” the manager said shortly. “Harper Grace, meet Beth Manning, your new boss.”

“Oh, we’ve met,” Beth said coolly.

“Yep, I figured.” He thrust the mop handle into Harper’s hands and kicked a rolling bucket of soapy water toward her. She squealed and squirmed away as some of it sloshed over the top and splattered onto her faux Manolos.

“I want Harper here to start with the basics: floors, toilets, spills-you know the drill. And don’t be giving her any special treatment just because you two are friends-got that?”

“Oh yes, Mr. White,” Beth assured him, a broad smile crossing her face. “I know exactly what to do with her.”

Harper leaned back against the wall again and clenched the mop tightly.

You can handle this, she told herself sternly.

She just hoped it was true.

Adam usually counted the days until the start of basketball season. Though too modest to admit it aloud, he knew exactly how good he was at nearly every sport Haven High had to offer. Last year he’d led the league in lacrosse assists, and as captain of the swim team he’d just set a new school record in the butterfly relay-but there was nothing like basketball. It wasn’t just the adulation of the town during basketball season: the cheers of the crowd, the triumphant headlines, the adoring cheerleaders-though all of that helped. It was the game itself, the rough, heavy feel of the ball cradled in his hands, the flicker of weightlessness in those moments his feet left the ground, the cool certainty of a perfect shot, when the ball flew from your fingers, sailing through the air in a perfect arc. You could close your eyes, turn away-and just wait for the soft, satisfying swish.

He’d woken at dawn that morning and spent the day bouncing around the house, filled with nervous energy, just waiting for nightfall, for the first practice of the season. Now that he was finally stepping into the locker room, he suddenly realized he hadn’t felt so happy, so relaxed in weeks. And then, in an instant, it all went to shit.

“What are you doing here?” he asked sourly.

“I-”

“Never mind, I don’t want to hear it.” Adam turned away and flung open his locker, throwing his gym bag to the floor and pulling off his T-shirt in one fast, fluid motion. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. He hadn’t spoken to Kane since the night it had all gone down. And to run into him now-here, of all places, the site of his betrayal-

“I’m on the team,” Kane said calmly. “Where else would I be?”

“You’re not on the team,” Adam growled. Kane had played ball for Haven High back in tenth grade. He’d lasted a month. Kane had been the best player they had, by far-but after he’d missed two practices in a row, Coach Hanford had thrown him off the squad. Now Adam was the best player they had. But only by default. “Coach Hanford would never let you back on the team.”

“Hanford’s out,” Kane retorted. “Or didn’t you get the memo? Retired to Arizona. And, lucky for me, Coach Wilson isn’t such a hard ass-he seemed quite persuaded by what I had to say.”

Adam pulled on his team shorts and slammed the locker shut.

“How did you-” he stopped himself. He couldn’t speak to Kane, couldn’t look at him, without the bile rising in his throat. Without remembering the pictures he’d seen, of Beth and Kane, in the locker room, after hours, in each other’s arms.

“Could be fun, bro,” Kane suggested. “Like old times, you and me-”

“I’m not your bro,” Adam spit out, finally facing him. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, and I don’t care. Just stay the hell away from me.”

He brushed past Kane and headed for the door-he suddenly needed to be out on the court, to slam a basketball into the backboard. Hard.

“Now, is that any way to talk to a friend?” Kane called out after him.

We’re not friends. And I guess we never were.

But out loud, Adam said nothing. Kane had thrown away any right he’d had to call himself a friend. He’d trashed their friendship; he’d trashed Adam’s life. And now Kane had the nerve to speak to him? Here? Had the nerve to rejoin his team? Was he trying to destroy yet another part of Adam s life? Adam’s love for basketball was pure, and it was clean, and he wasn’t going to let Kane infect it, or steal it away.

Not this time.

Not again.

Beth had always been a “nice girl.” She thought of the phrase just like that, in quotes, because she was so used to hearing the words in someone else's voice. “Be a nice girl,” insisted her mother. “Such a nice girl!” her teachers all glowed. Other people’s voices, telling her who she was, what she should be. But all she ever heard in her own, silent voice these days was a warning.

Nice girls finish last.

And here was Harper, the perfect object lesson-the antithesis of nice, and she always walked away with everything. She was beautiful, she was popular, she was mean-and yet still, she’d taken home the prize. Beth's boyfriend. (Ex-boyfriend, she reminded herself.) And now here she was, at Beth’s mercy.

Beth could do the right thing, the nice thing-show her all the shortcuts, the places White would never check her work, ways to take an extra-long break; Beth could get her bumped up to the waitstaff in a few days.

Or… she could take a cue from Harper and throw nice out the window. She could be strict. Cruel. Mean.

And as it turned out, she was a natural.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Beth asked caustically, as Harper stood frozen with the mop. “A written invitation? The bathroom's that way-get to work.”

Harper trudged off down the corridor. Realizing that she’d neglected to change into her uniform, Beth was about to call out after her-then decided against it. Let Harper figure out on her own why she might not want to scrub a toilet in her street clothes. Instead, she followed Harper silently down the hall. After all, she was a supervisor now. It was time to get to work.

“Are you just going to stand there all day and watch me?” Harper asked, after she’d been sweeping the mop back and forth for fifteen minutes.

“If that’s what it takes,” Beth answered snidely. “You’re doing it all wrong-might as well just start over again.”

“What?” Harper cried. “No way.”

“Well, if you want me to call Mr. White and see what he thinks…”

Harper sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Fine-you’re the boss.”

Beth was amused by how much the words thrilled her. Everywhere else in this town, Harper was in charge. Suddenly, Beth was the one with all the power. And she loved it already.

“I don’t know how Adam put up with you for all that time,” Harper mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” Beth asked sharply.

“Oh, nothing,” Harper replied in a poisonously sweet voice. “Just wondering to myself what I should wear on my date tonight. My boyfriend is taking me somewhere special. It’s our two-month anniversary, you know.”

Beth knew. And she knew what had happened two months ago. In one day, Adam had both hooked up with Harper and decided Beth was cheating on him. Beth had long wondered which had come first. But she wasn’t about to ask.

She walked out of the bathroom without a word and back down to the kitchen, where she grabbed a fresh packet of sponges. Then she rejoined Harper and tossed her one.

“You’ll want to get down on your knees and really scrub those hard-to-clean stains,” she explained, pointing to a random spot at her feet. “There’s one now.”

Harper looked at the sponge with disdain. “My hands and knees? On this floor? You have got to be kidding me.”

“Hey, if you can’t cut it, you’re welcome to quit,” Beth suggested, impressed by her own icy tone. Where was all this coming from? Was this who, deep down, she really was? Whatever the answer, if felt too good to stop. “Until then,” she continued, smiling as Harper slowly got down on all fours, “like you said-I’m the boss.”

Kane didn’t like surprises-or mysteries. So it was bad enough when Adam, totally unexpectedly, had refused to forgive him for the Beth thing even after all this time. Worse was the fact that Kane couldn’t figure out why.

Yes, he’d stolen Adam’s girlfriend. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting a thank-you. But this? The silent treatment for two months, as if they were both ten years old again and Kane had smashed up Adam’s brand-new bike? (And even back then, it had only taken Adam a week to forgive and forget.)

She was, after all, just a girl. And Kane had seen her first.

The Beth Manning they’d grown up with had been nothing; a plain, faded face in the crowd, about as exciting as an old T-shirt at the bottom of your drawer. Familiar, reliable, and not so ugly that you’d never wear it-but best saved until you were desperate.

Kane had known who she was, of course-he knew all the girls. But knowing and caring are two different things-and in this case, they’d been a universe apart.

Then came sophomore year. The first day of school. And into their bio lab had walked a goddess: slim, tall, with perfect skin, a willowy figure, and glossy golden hair. It was Beth 2.0, new and improved, and from the moment she’d flowed through the door, Kane had vowed to have her.

He’d just never expected it would take so much effort.

A girl like that, a wallflower, a nobody, should have been falling all over herself in gratitude for attention from someone like him. Guys like Kane didn’t speak to girls like Beth Manning-or at least, they hadn’t before the Change. But there was no gratitude, and she seemed immune to his considerable charm.

So he’d enlisted Adam’s help-his best friend, he’d thought, remembering with derision. Adam was her lab partner, and his job was simple: Pave the way, reel her in, let her see that the A-list crowd wasn’t so bad, that she could trust guys like Adam. And, by extension, Adam’s good buddy Kane-that she could let her guard down. It was a gambit they’d used a lot in those days, letting Adam’s basic decency lure the girls in, under the assumption that Kane, too, must be a “nice guy.” Even if it wasn’t readily apparent. It took them a bit longer to figure out the truth-and by then, Kane had generally gotten what he needed out of them. It worked both ways: Sometimes Kane played the wingman, dazzling the ladies with his charm and then passing them along to Adam. Good old solid, reliable, dull Adam. It was a good game, and they’d worked well together, partners in crime, wading through the shallow waters of Haven hotties.

And together, they’d worked out rule #1: Any girl was fair game-as long as you saw her first.

So perhaps Kane could be forgiven for trusting his partner, for assuming that the rules of the game still applied and that Adam would work his magic and send Beth flying into his arms. Imagine his surprise, then, to find that Adam had decided to keep this one for himself.

It was a betrayal, and it had led to a loss-a public one. And that, Kane could not forget. He’d kept quiet, played along-it wouldn’t do to make a fuss, to be driven to unseemly emotion, not over a girl-but he’d also known that it wasn’t over. No girl could be allowed to choose someone over him. Not even Adam.

It had taken more than a year, but he’d gotten his way.

Beth, who had only grown more beautiful since that first sighting, had seen the light. She’d rectified her mistake, and this time, she’d made the right choice. And if ever Kane got a little bored with the whole relationship thing, he just reminded himself of his struggle. This was his rightful reward, and he was going to enjoy it. If Adam was man enough to have a relationship, to make this girl fall in love with him, then so was Kane.

And he certainly didn’t need Adam’s approval. Or his forgiveness. Kane didn’t need anyone. But if their friendship was going to end, Kane would be the one to make the decision-and Kane wasn’t ready for that yet. Without Adam, Grace was almost too boring to bear. So he’d talked his way back onto the team, bearing the humiliation of having to beg the new coach for a shot. If he stayed in Adam’s face, reminded him of how well they’d worked together, as a team, eventually Adam would have to give up the childish grudge. In the meantime, Kane would do the diligent teammate thing: go to the practices, run the wind-sprints, pretend he cared. Kane would do whatever he needed to do, he resolved, except one thing: apologize.

Eventually, Beth got bored and left Harper alone with the mop and bucket.

It’s like they always say, thought Harper, ignore a bully and she’ll go away. She’d just never been on the wrong side of that equation before.

This job was, if possible, even worse than Harper had imagined. But if she kept her eye on the prize, on Adam, then maybe the time would just slip by-she’d be in his arms again soon enough.

His arms-that was good. She pictured them wrapped around her, warm and strong. In her mind’s eye, they curled up together on a soft couch, next to a giant picture window. A beautiful mountain range loomed in the distance, and snow pelted the windows, but Harper was so warm, so cozy in Adam’s arms. She could, if she closed her eyes, almost feel his presence…

“Harper, is that you?”

Harper’s eyes flew open to see those joined-at-the-hip dolts Marcy and Darcy, staring at her in horror.

“Harper, what are you doing… here?”

She dropped the mop in alarm and backed away, struggling to recover the blasé veneer she would need to make it through this. “I’m just, I-”

“Harper works here now,” Beth said cheerfully, suddenly appearing behind the wonder twins. “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten to put up the sign saying the restroom was closed for cleaning. Oops!”

She smiled at Harper, who knew it had been no accident. Just as Beth’s sudden arrival had been no coincidence. She’d come to witness Harper’s humiliation; she’d come to gloat.

“Is something wrong, Harper?” she asked sweetly. “Because otherwise, you really should get back to work.”

Harper drew in a sharp breath and held it for several moments.

“I’m all done in here,” she finally said. “Later, ladies.” She gave them a jaunty grin and walked away, towing the bucket behind her.

It had been a humiliating encounter, but there would be no long-term fallout, she assured herself. Nobody who counted listened to anything those airheads had to say. Still, when she tried to send herself back to that comforting vision of her and Adam cuddling in the ski lodge, she was just too angry-Beth’s smug face kept breaking into her reverie, hovering over her like the Cheshire Cat.

So Harper did what any good, disgruntled employee would do: She went with it. She imagined Beth coming in to check on her, ordering her around-and then she imagined herself picking up the giant bucket of hot, scummy water and dumping it over Beth’s smug little head.

She kept that image fixed in her mind, varying it for fun: Beth covered in ketchup and mustard, Beth smothered in relish, Beth drowning in a vat of cole slaw and pickle juice.

The possibilities were nearly endless, and Harper mentally ran through them all. The rest of her shift raced by in a flash. Time flies when you’re having fun.

Kaia’s father’s brand-new, mint-condition BMW had a 5-liter capacity, 10 cylinders, a 500 horsepower output, a V-10 engine, and 383 pounds per foot maximum torque.

It also, she discovered once she got out on the empty highway, had a dead battery. Or an overheated exhaust system. Or maybe it was a torn carburetor belt.

Who knew? And, really, who cared? All that mattered was that the car wouldn’t go anywhere, and she was stranded. In the middle of nowhere.

Typical, she thought, slumping down against the smooth black leather of the front seat and waiting for the tow truck she’d called. There was nothing to do now but stare out the window at the barren scenery and hope that eventually someone would show up to get her back to civilization. What a beautifully appropriate metaphor for my life, she thought bitterly. Trapped in desolation, forced to wait for a rescue that might never come.

She was on her way home from Jack Powell’s apartment, and she was already in a foul mood. Without apology, Powell had informed her that the little love nest they’d planned for their vacation would have to be put on hold for a few days, as he went off into the mountains, chaperoning the school ski trip. He’d forbidden her to come along-not that she’d wanted to. He was afraid of what she might do if they were in public together. As if she had no self-control.

Kaia had plenty of control-enough, at least, not to show him how disappointed she was. How repulsed she was by the thought of spending her winter break in Grace, sitting in her big, empty house, staring at the tasteful taupe walls. If Powell wanted to pretend he didn’t need her around, she could do the same.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, and the pink desert sunset was swiftly fading to a deep and dark night sky. Kaia shivered with a sudden chill and wondered what might be out there, in that empty stretch of land that lay beyond the road. Seventeen years in New York City had taught her an important safety lesson: Dark and isolated equals danger. Her flight instinct was difficult to suppress.

Not that she expected some drug-crazed mugger to pop out from behind the scrub brush-but still, it was dark and quiet, and she was miles away from civilization. If you could call it that. Her father had once told her there were jackals and coyotes roaming the land-and she’d seen enough cheesy horror movies to at least wonder what else might be out there, lying in wait.

Kaia could take care of herself. She’d had plenty of experience, hadn’t she? It’s not like anyone had ever looked out for her, or let her believe there was someone ready to catch her when she fell. But fending off a crazed pervert on the subway-or a crazed ex-boyfriend in a high school parking lot-was one thing. Being stranded, isolated, helpless? That was another.

Still, she sat motionless in the car, posing for an invisible audience, calm, cool, and collected. She didn’t call someone, anyone, just for the comfort of the sound of another human voice. She didn’t wrap her fingers around the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip, and she didn’t whirl her head around at the slightest sound or movement coming from just beyond her peripheral vision. And when the tow truck finally arrived, an hour later, she didn’t crack a smile.

Especially not when she recognized the driver. It was that slacker from school, that scuzzy, stoned, frustratingly sexy guy who lately seemed to show up everywhere she turned. He wore a grease-stained T-shirt and oversize jeans with a gaping hole at the left knee, and as he hopped out of the truck and loped toward her, Kaia noted with disgust that his shoes were held together with duct tape. His scruffy black hair was crying out for shampoo, and his face was covered with dark stubble-five o’clock shadow, maybe, but from which day? This was her conquering hero: tall, dark, and dirty.

“Took you long enough,” she grumbled as he helped her into the cab of the tow truck.

“Nice to see you again, too, Kaia,” he said, checking one last time that the BMW was firmly attached to the back of the truck and then climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Do I know you?” she asked, wrinkling her nose to make it clear that an acquaintanceship with his type seemed unlikely.

“You’ve seen me around,” he grunted.

Nice of him not to bring up the time he’d rescued her from some drunken barfly looking for a new floozy for his harem. Kaia had done her best to forget. But now to be rescued yet again by the same deadbeat? It was bringing all the sordid details rushing back. Not that she was ready to offer her thanks. Or even her acknowledgment.

Instead, Kaia snapped her fingers as if she’d just made the connection.

“You’re the pizza guy!” she said triumphantly. “Weed, wasn’t it?”

“Reed.” He shook his head and scowled. “Reed Sawyer.”

“Of course, of course. Can’t imagine what made me think of weed.” Could it be the stench of pot following you around everywhere you go? she added silently.

“Maybe it’s because you keep tossing me away and I just keep coming back,” he suggested, seeming to take cheer from her discomfort.

“So you drive a tow truck now?” she asked. As if she cared.

“It’s my dad’s garage. I help him out sometimes.”

A grease monkey? It figured.

They drove in silence for a while, Kaia doing her best not to admire the way his sinewy body moved beneath the grungy black T-shirt and decaying jeans. Such a shame, a prize specimen like this, buried beneath so much grime. But if I cleaned him up a little… she mused-then caught herself in horror. Now was not the time to be taking in a stray. No matter how his taut, tan forearm brushed her skin as he shifted gears, no matter how firmly his long, thin fingers massaged the steering wheel, no matter how-stop, she warned herself. Just stop.

“So, you okay?” he finally asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I pick up a lot of women out here,” he explained. “Being alone, stranded for all that time in the middle of nowhere, it drives ’em crazy. By the time I get there, they’re usually pretty shaken up.”

“And I guess when they see you and that sexy smile of yours, they just fall into your arms, swooning with gratitude,” she sneered. Her voice quivered as he turned his head briefly toward her. She ignored it. “Yours for the taking-is that what you’re waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for a thank-you,” he answered, unruffled. “But if you’re in a swooning mood…”

“Thank you,” she said grudgingly, turning to stare out the dusty window and watch the shadowy scenery fly by.

“You’re welcome.” There was a pause, and then, “So, I’ve got a sexy smile?”

Damn.

“Forget it,” Kaia snapped. “I guess you desert cowboys are as unfamiliar with sarcasm as you are with personal hygiene.”

She didn’t turn back to face him, and he didn’t say anything, but she could imagine the superior look on his face, the mocking smile.

And, for the record, it was sexier than ever.

Adam pulled into the lot and hopped out of his car. He was late. He’d wanted to greet Harper as soon as she’d finished her first shift. But the coach had kept him after practice to work on his free throws.

“You seem off today,” the coach had observed.

Wonder why.

Now he jogged toward the entrance-he hated making her wait.

But the figure standing in the entryway anxiously scanning the parking lot wasn’t Harper, it was Beth. A fact that he registered only moments before sweeping her into his arms.

Instead, he stopped short, and gave a halfhearted wave.

She offered him a weak smile.

“Picking up Harper?” she asked, and he wondered whether she, too, was suddenly remembering all the moments they’d shared in this doorway, Adam rescuing her from a long night of work.

He nodded.

“She’s getting changed,” Beth told him, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Thanks. And… I guess you’re waiting for…”

“Kane. Yeah.” She looked over his shoulder into the parking lot again, as if willing the Camaro to appear. It didn’t.

“So anyway, how’s-”

“Adam, I wanted to-”

They spoke at once, then stopped abruptly and laughed.

“Well, this is awkward,” Beth admitted.

“Tell me about it.” Adam idly rubbed the back of his neck. Where was Harper? “Maybe I should just go inside and-”

“Adam, wait.” She put her hand on his arm to stop him, then snatched it back-they both froze. It was the first time she’d touched him since… since the last time he’d pushed her away. He’d forgotten how soft her hands were. “Adam, there’s something I’ve been really wanting to say to you. I know you think that-”

She broke off, and he waited, wondering. It was the first time in a long time he’d been able to look at her without flinching, without needing to turn away or worse, to hurt her. Did this mean he was finally getting over her? It certainly felt like he was getting over… something.

“Well…,” she began again hesitantly, “I want you to know that, even after everything that’s-”

“Adam!” Pushing past Beth, Harper came flying into his arms. “So sorry I’m late. You have no idea what kind of a day I had.”

He gently extricated himself from her embrace and took her hand. “You can tell me all about it in the car, Harper. I’m sure you did great in there today.”

Harper gave him a kiss on the cheek and then put a possessive arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without Beth,” she gushed, smiling at Beth, whose face had begun to pale. “I can’t wait to tell you what a wonderful help she was today.”

Adam glanced quickly over at Harper, unable to tell whether she was sincere. It wasn’t like her to have anything so nice to say about anyone, much less Beth.

I never give her enough credit, he chided himself. He’d have to make sure that tonight, at least, he told her how proud he was of her. Not just for the job, but for everything.

Feeling a sudden rush of warmth and gratitude that he had someone like Harper in his life, Adam pulled her into a hug and gave her a long kiss.

“What was that for?” she asked when they finally broke apart.

“Just because,” he said sheepishly, keeping his arms around her.

“He does that all the time,” Harper explained to Beth, who couldn’t even muster a smile. “Oh, but I guess you, of all people, know that!”

“Hey, were you about to say something?” Adam asked, remembering they’d been interrupted. For a moment, he’d almost forgotten Beth was there.

“No, it was nothing,” Beth mumbled. “You guys have a good night.”

Harper and Adam walked off toward the car together, hand in hand. Halfway there, he turned back. Beth’s solitary figure seemed suddenly frail and lonely, standing in the shadows.

“You sure you’ll be okay here?” he called back. “You don’t need a ride or anything?”

“I’m fine,” she shouted, with just a hint of a quaver in her voice. “Kane will be here any minute.”

That’s right-Kane. Beth was his problem now, Adam reminded himself. He knew that. It was just that looking at her there, her blond hair billowing around her head like a golden halo, it was a little too easy to forget.

It had been one of the worst days of her life-which made the night that much sweeter. After driving home, they’d come out back to lie together under the stars, on the large, flat rock between the border of their two backyards. It had been a long and painful day, and all she wanted to do was lie in his arms and breathe him in. Unfortunately, Adam had other ideas.

“Can you believe Kane? Grinning at me like that? As if nothing had ever happened?”

Harper sighed and rolled toward Adam, wrapping her arms around him.

“Maybe you should try not to think about it so much,” she suggested. “I hate to see you like this.”

“I can’t stand it!” Adam raged. “I mean, what does she even see in him?”

Harper just clung to him tighter and tried to ignore his words and their meaning. They had never really talked about what had happened between Adam and Beth, and Harper liked it that way. Because that way she could pretend that he’d forgotten. Moved on. That he only cared about Harper and what she wanted.

“He’s been with so many women,” Adam continued. “He’s a slut, you know? Can a guy be a slut? Because he is-and she just fell for it. Like he’ll treat her any better than the rest of them.” He snorted. “Someone like that will never change.”

Almost unnoticeably, Harper stiffened and pulled away. It was that word. Slut. Not that she thought she-or that Adam-saw her as-

The thing was, Harper was no vestal virgin. She didn’t regret any of the things she’d done-even if she had, she could never take them back. She’d never be Beth-and if that’s what he wanted…

“Hey, where are you going?” Adam asked, finally noticing that she was slowly easing away from him. He placed a warm hand on her cheek and grazed his fingers down her neck. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about this. It’s not fair to you.”

“No.” She sat up, pulling him up next to her, and took both of his hands in hers. “I want you to talk about whatever you need to. You can say anything to me. You know that.”

He gave her a mischievous smile. “Does that mean I’m allowed to call you ‘Gracie’ as much as I want?” he asked, knowing how much she hated the childhood nickname.

“Only if I’m allowed to tickle you as much as I want!” she shot back, and launched herself at him, wrestling him onto his back as he shook with laughter. Finally, she took pity on him and quieted him with a long, deep kiss. It went on and on-and though she’d promised herself that she would wait just a bit longer, until they were up in the mountains, away, alone, and everything was perfect, she didn’t want to pull away. His lips were so soft, his kiss so firm, and their bodies felt so right together, as if each had been designed with the other in mind.

So, after several long minutes, it was Adam who pulled away first, breathless. He brushed a lock of hair away from her face and kissed her lightly on the forehead. It was a cold, clear night, and as she lay against the cool granite, she could see her dark bedroom window. How many nights had she come home alone and gazed out at the backyard, at the rock where she and Adam used to play as children, wishing she were out there with him again? And how many of those nights had he been in his own room, only a few yards away-with Beth?

“Harper, I just want you to know,” Adam murmured softly in her ear, “I love-”

Her heart stopped beating.

“-being here with you,” he concluded.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly, gazing into his clear, trusting eyes. So he loved… being with her.

It wasn’t everything-but it was a beginning.