PROLOGUE
ROSE
Hello there, my whiskey marinated brain from the previous night. Thank you for making me see things that aren’t there. It really isn’t the right time to imagine a ghost from my past.
Doing a double-take, he’s still standing in front of me. I had no idea he lived in this two-floor penthouse before I saw him walking down the steps.
Fudge.
Last night’s drinks are clearly messing with my head. There is no other explanation than my hangover for the situation I have found myself in. My eyes and mind must be playing tricks on me. I wish I weren’t wearing mascara so rubbing my eyes would be less messy.
My interviewee, the computer genius extraordinaire Elijah Dalton, turns out to be Eli Parker from my tiny hometown, Belchester, Nebraska. I haven’t seen him in years, and now he is standing on the third last step, looking down on me. How ironic.
I open my mouth to speak but snap it shut quickly. I have no freaking idea what to say in a situation like this. It isn’t every day you see someone you’ve spent the last seven years trying to forget. How did nobody tell me about his fame and success before today?
Wait a second—my great aunt Helen must know! She always knows everything happening in our small town, just like her sister did before her passing. Helen will get a call from me after this interview from hell is over. She has a lot of explaining to do.
I try to keep my breathing even and my hands from shaking while my chest tightens. My mouth feels drier than the Sahara Desert.
It isn’t the right place to feel anxious, Rose. Keep it together. You have a job to do.
When I look at him again, I notice a tiny mark on the left side of his face. Just where his lip ring used to be. It must have been years since he last had it on. You wouldn’t even pay attention to it if you didn’t know where to look. ButIknow how he used to look years ago. I memorized every inch of him that night when nothing else mattered but us.
His nose is also straighter than I remembered—he must have had it fixed. I mean, it wasn’t bad back then, but it’s the little things that I keep noticing. Other people would miss those while admiring the entire package that is Elijah Dalton today.
Focus, Rose. Now. Stop staring at him like a lovesick puppy.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I gaze back into those striking hazel eyes that have been in my dreams hundreds of times. All I can think of is that night. As expected, the sadness rolls over me like a tsunami right after I let my mind wander. Those unforgettable vivid moments flash through my mind.
Smoke. So much smoke. Beautiful red, orange, and yellow colors mixed with ugly grays and black. The house next door, burning to the ground. Water bursting from the fire hoses. Firefighters shouting their orders. Chaos.
My sadness quickly turns into resentment. Here I am, standing in front of the person whose existence ruined my future and stole the remaining time with my Grandma Lou. I only ran to the burning house to see if he was still inside. Shivers run up my spine when I look down at visible scarring on my right hand and wrist. Those scars act as a daily reminder of the night my life turned upside down. My mind repeats a question it has wondered about for the last seven years.
Where was Eli that night?
He was supposed to be home after their senior trip. We had plans to hang out and eat cookies Grandma Lou made while watching the latest episode ofGame of Thrones. I haven’t watched a single episode since. It would have acted too much as a reminder of what we once had.
You can still guess who read the spoilers as they didn’t want to miss the ending. Guilty as charged.
I remember him as a lanky teenager. Whenever I saw him, my mind started humming that song about a skater boy. Hewasmy skater boy without all that drama. The song title doesn’t match with him anymore.
Eli’s gorgeous hazel-colored eyes, dark thick eyelashes, long curly hair like Jon Snow’s, and his lip ring were all my weaknesses in high school. Not to forget his old acoustic guitar, ripped jeans, and band shirts. The tattoo he got for his 18thbirthday just days before the fire was the coolest thing ever. At least if you asked my 17-year-old self. It’s still difficult to forget how the tattoo and his warm skin felt under my fingers during our night together.
Now he’s covered his tattoos with shirt sleeves, removed his lip ring, and cut his hair. It’s such a shame. Elijah Dalton is just like any other adult man. Especially with his stubble and hot as sin glasses. Nothing like the boy I used to know. Eli Parker shaved daily but let his hair grow. It seems like Eli 2.0 does the opposite.
Okay, okay. I must admit that he does look incredible with facial hair. I wish he didn’t. His wet, just fresh out of the shower hair isn’t helping matters. Eli looks like he just walked out of my wildest fantasies.
Biting down on my tongue, I tell myself to calm down and be quiet about the past and my mixed feelings towards him. My cheeks feel like they are on fire. Those little flames of embarrassment are dancing across my skin.
I am feeling mortified for both of us, too. Eli doesn’t even recognize me anymore. My resentment seems to be misplaced here. It’s time to introduce myself before it gets too weird.
“Hi Mr. Dalton, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m Rose Summers from Bridgeway magazine.” I take a quick breath as my voice starts shaking. “I know you were set to meet Carol, but she’s unavailable today. I am looking forward to speaking with you, so if you could let me know where to set up, we can get started.”
I stretch my unscarred left hand for a handshake while forcing a polite smile. He stares down at my hand, not uttering a word.
I am ready to question what’s happening when he finally acknowledges my hand and shakes it. “It’s good to see you again,Maggie. And you can still call me Eli.” He insists in a husky voice that makes my skin tingle and thighs clench.
But that isn’t what catches my attention.
