If she found out I’d fallen for her during her recovery, she’d freak. Her heart had been broken and she’d lost the substance of her former self. A huge wall of grief surrounded her on all sides. I’d gone day after day as her friend. I held her hand when she cried, her hair back when the contents of her stomach wouldn’t cooperate with her medications, read her books, and watched countless hours of television with her.

So tonight, when I’d pulled her into my chest like a brother would do to antagonize a kid sister, she never suspected that I’d just wanted to smell her. To push aside her hair and taste the skin just below her ear. My elbow rested just above her breasts and I couldn’t help noticing how they’d filled out, along with her shapely hips, since her recovery. She looked healthy and gorgeous and irresistible.

And most surprising was that she didn’t push me away like she normally did. She didn’t tell me I smelled like weed or that I was too rough or whatever excuse she’d usually give to get away. Tonight I felt her settle against my chest like she was relishing it. Like maybe she missed me, too. Even though it could never be as much as I’d missed her.

But then I made the stupid-ass move of finding her scar. What a douche bag. It probably reminded her of how broken she once was, when all I wanted to do was help her remember that we were connected. Shit.

I needed to find her and apologize. Tell her I didn’t mean anything by it. That I didn’t want her to run away from me. I was probably still such a fuckup in her eyes. I was the guy who’d gotten kicked out of my internship in Amsterdam after Johan’s too-young-for-him girlfriend came on to me. Returning to my father’s disapproving gaze sucked big time, but finding out Rachel had returned as well almost made the whole thing worth it.

I headed back outside and heard the low rumble of a hot rod pulling up to the field in back. I looked over my shoulder at the sweet blue ride with gleaming silver tail pipes. My gaze slid to the driver’s side and my whole body tensed. And just like that, I knew I was meant to be Rachel’s friend tonight more than anything else. She was going to need me.

Because Miles had fucking wrecked her and now he was here to screw with her again.

I stormed through the crowd, pushing past people to search for her. Julia tried to reach for my arm, but I shrugged her off. I was pretty sure she only wanted to drag me into the woods to hook up for old times’ sake.

I rounded the bonfire and slowed my steps as I spotted Rachel near the wooden fence in the back of the lot. With her jaw set and her fists clenched tight, she looked fierce. Determined. On fire.

I realized that she’d done pretty well without me the past few years.

Maybe she didn’t need me to protect her anymore. Not when it came to him.

She could probably kick his ass all on her own. And maybe mine, too.

Chapter Three Rachel

There was a squealing of tires as a muscle car pulled up and got the attention of everyone at the party. It was hard to see who was behind the wheel through the tinted side window. But then a couple of the guys whistled, knuckles rapped the bumper of the car, and I heard the nickname I hadn’t heard in years. One that I hadn’t become immune to—yet.

“Big M, I was hoping you’d make it!” shouted a voice above the din of the crowd.

Big M, also known as M, also known as Miles, my ex-boyfriend. The boy I hadn’t laid eyes on in years. The same boyfriend who’d told me my recovery was too much for him to handle, who’d never even questioned what had happened to the promise ring he’d given me a couple of months before the accident. The person who’d vanished from my life and never visited me in the hospital again.

And I got it. Damn, I got it. We were young. He was on his way to college on a basketball scholarship. Still, his desertion cut deep. Because after his phone calls and visits stopped, I’d felt so alone. Hollow. Gutted.

Sure, I had my parents. And Dakota. And Kai.

Kai—the guy who spent hours playing cards and wheeling me back and forth to physical and occupational therapy. Who held my hand when I could barely grasp his back. Who stayed in my room until I fell asleep with tears dried in the corners of my eyes from crying so damn hard over Miles.

Those nights in the hospital changed me. Toughened me up. Even more than the physical accident caused me to get stronger. More than the two surgeries reduced the swelling and pieced the fragments of my skull back together.

Now Kai gripped my shoulder in another show of support. Or maybe it was to hold himself back from pouncing on Miles. He’d already done that once after the accident, and I made him promise to never do it again. Even though Miles had deserved it.

But I wasn’t the same girl who needed Kai’s support back then. I hardened to the point of not needing anyone anymore. At least I didn’t want to need anyone. And I’d proven that I could take care of myself during these last three years.

So when I shrugged Kai off, I felt his hand skate down my back and fall away. Like it was a last-ditch effort to hang on to the girl I had once been.

I felt a warm hand on my arm again and figured Kai was trying to mess with me, but when I looked back it was Dakota instead. Her eyes were widened in surprise. “Shoot, I’d heard he was back in town, but I didn’t think he’d show up here. Let’s have Shane kick him out.”

I steadied my breath. “No, it’s cool. I don’t want him to think I can’t handle being at the same party with him.”

At this point almost everyone’s gaze was shifting back and forth between Miles and me, even though he hadn’t even spotted me yet. Kai had stepped away and now stood across from me, as if to shield me from Miles’s view. I had to look away from him because I knew his gaze would cut deep. He knew how hard it’d been for me those days after the accident. He knew so damn well. My knees practically buckled at the thought.

The crowd parted to let Miles through and as the realization of my presence dawned on him, his jaw became slack and his steps slowed to a halt. He gave me the once-over, like he was seeing a damn ghost or something.

He was all lean muscles from playing ball twenty-four seven for Cleveland State University. I’d forgotten how smooth his tan skin had felt or how long his powerful legs had been. He was so tall, in fact, that I barely reached his chest. But I’d loved that about him—how he could lift me up with one scoop of his arm or raise my mouth to his lips. Rumor had it that he had a good chance of being picked in the NBA draft this summer. I knew that was his dream, so in a strange way, I was glad for him. But that happiness was padded by a thick wall of sorrow, even to this day. Because there were so many things unresolved between us.

I’d thought for sure I was over him. But seeing him standing before me with his close-cropped hair, square jaw, and deep-set brown eyes was nearly my undoing. Regret slammed into my chest and blindsided me. I tasted the stinging of tears in the back of my throat. The truth of the matter was: I’d never been gutted by someone like that before Miles. Anyone who’d experienced such a profound loss would understand the lingering influence that person has over you. Your emotions. Your moods.

My heart had been tucked away in a corner, with the shades pulled down, for the past three years, but now it was as if she were peeking out the window, getting a closer look at the one person who’d obliterated her.

Even as Miles high-fived a bunch of guys, he kept his eyes glued to mine. But I didn’t want him to have that kind of power over me, not anymore. So I commanded my legs to move. I turned and nearly tripped over my own toes, they felt so unstable, like a crumbled and abandoned building. As I walked back over to my perch by the truck, I felt as if I were floating in some kind of fucked-up dream.

An old high school friend named Carrie made room for me on the edge of the truck bed, sympathy dripping from her eyes. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, my voice sounding strained. “First time I’m seeing him, is all.”

Man, I was way off my game since I’d been back home. I didn’t discuss feelings with anybody. Not anymore. Normally I wouldn’t even dignify that kind of lame question with a response. Especially not to these people, who’d never figured out how to treat me and had backed away instead, making me feel even more alone. I mean, fuck, I was only a girl in town who’d had an accident that resulted in a brain injury.

“Rachel.” He was standing in front of me now, and Carrie had the decency to scoot off the truck bed to give us privacy.

My name fell from his lips, and my stomach clenched into a solid brick. I hadn’t heard him say my name in such a long time that the sensation bordered on painful.

“Miles.” It came out in a hoarse whisper.

“You look . . . amazing.” He looked down as if unsure of himself. “I . . . I heard you were back in town. Can . . . can we talk?”

I stood up on the bed of the truck so that I towered over him, giving me the leverage I needed. “Nope.”

And then I jumped down and headed toward the mishmash of cars parked haphazardly on the lawn. Anger blazed like a wildfire inside my chest. No fucking way did he earn the right to talk to me.

I heard the crunching of dry grass behind me and realized that Miles was gaining on me. Except he was about three years too late.

“I’m just about to head home,” I called over my shoulder. “So just go the fuck away.”

Without turning around, I knew that I’d shocked him into silence. Never had I spoken that way to him before. Kai said that led to our downfall. He hadn’t liked the way I’d acted with Miles and had told me so on a number of occasions.

As I moved toward the cars, Shane stepped into our path, with Kai beside him. “Miles, probably best for you to take off.”

Kai tried catching my eye, but I looked away and kept moving, pushing past Shane.

“Wait, Rachel, please,” Miles said, and I twisted my head just as Kai restrained him, keeping him from going after me. “There’s something I need to say and then I promise to leave you alone.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and then swung toward him. “Oh yeah? How about all those times I wanted to say something to you but you never answered your phone?”

Damn it to hell. I had blown it. I’d let him see how he was affecting me. For three long years I had said he was dead to me. So why was my whole body reacting right now? I balled my shaking fists.

I had imagined this same scenario playing out so many times in my head: Miles returning to tell me he’d messed up, that he’d been a wreck without me. That he was sorry. Then he’d help me through rehab. He’d hold my hand and tell me I was beautiful despite my shaved scalp. He’d adjust the straps on my recovery helmet and kiss my cheek tenderly.

Just like Mom had done . . . and just like Kai had done.

I gave Kai a stern warning look. One that said, Stay out of this. Kai tightened his jaw as if he wanted to clock Miles one, but he let him go and stayed put, respecting my wishes. These two boys were as different as night and day. And I was different with each of them. With Kai, I confronted him toe-to-toe. With Miles, I’d always softened to his wishes.

I shook the thought from my head and moved farther away from the crowd, Miles following behind.

I spun in fury toward him. “What the hell do you need to say to me?”

Miles was just as handsome as always. His cheekbones had sharpened, and the chocolate eyes I had loved so much now appeared to hold a deep well of pain. They made me waver.

“Rachel, I was an asshole. I’ve grown up a lot since then.” Had he felt bad about his decision all of these years? “You didn’t deserve someone like me, anyway.”

I clenched my jaw so tight I saw stars. “You’ve got that right.”

“Damn it. I’m so sorry. I was scared.” He began pacing in wide circles, running his fingers through his barely-there hair. He’d always kept it closely shaved during the basketball season. “We were supposed to go away to college together and I didn’t know how to handle what happened to you. But I haven’t been able to get over how I treated you.”

Even though I had wanted this type of apology for years, hearing it out loud only made me feel numb. Confused. Lightheaded.

“I get it. I do,” I said. My voice was now a whisper. All my anger had been placed on pause. “But I sure as hell didn’t know how to handle it, either. So I don’t feel sorry for you.”