PRESENT
Tabitha
When a guy pops the question, there are two likely responses:
1. Yes!
2. Um…
That “um” or long silent pause is only a stall while your brain freaks the hell out, trying to come up with a way to say “no” without sounding like a heartless jerk. At least, that’s what normal people do.
Me? I expected this would happen sooner or later. We talked about our future before, mapped out a solid plan we both agreed on. We lived together and got on great. Marriage was the next step. I knew this.
But as he got down on bended knee during the seventh-inning stretch of a Red Sox vs. Yankee game, I froze. A packed stadium of over thirty-seven thousand people all cheered and woo-hooed as if Mark had a great at-bat and now the bases were loaded.
My mouth opened, but no words escaped. In my head, it was like I was on some insane roller coaster ride, shooting me through moments and memories I’d thought were locked deep away in a vault.
At the worst possible time, Reed Walker clawed his way into my mind, invading places in my heart he didn’t belong. My first love, my mean crush, a man I swore to loathe for all eternity, yet he still sent my heart in a whirl every time I saw him.
Reed Walker. My storm, my hurricane, my weakness.
I hated him for that.
“Tabitha?” Mark swallowed, his face a little paler.
All eyes were on me, awaiting my response. I felt like the next batter up in the bottom of the ninth with two outs on the board and two strikes under my belt. The game rested entirely on my shoulders. This next play would either send the crowd roaring like I’d hit a grand slam or silence them with a strikeout and a loss.
A painful, humiliating loss for the man who looked up at me, worry saturating his dark brown eyes. Mark was sweet, predictable, comfortable, and safe. Everything Reed wasn’t.
Heat coursed through my body, and sweat prickled under my arms. My heart banged so fast in my chest, I could hear the throbbing in my ears.
I had to give an answer…and I had to give it now.
I
How It All Began
He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.
Leo Tolstoy (Anna Karenina)
1
His Lair
Fifteen Years Earlier
Tabitha
Light poured in through the darkness as I unhooked the latch, letting the wooden door to the sky view fall open. The sun rays warmed my face and tickled my nose. I imagined a black owl with ice-blue eyes flapping his wings as he perched on the rooftop, a letter for me stuck in his pale white beak. My personal invitation to Hogwarts.
I freaking wish.
With a sigh, I tied the rope from the hanging door onto a hook. The futon mattress on the floor had one small square pillow and a navy blue blanket, enough space for one person to lay down. Reed came here a lot, always with a library book tucked under his arm.
His lair.
This place was originally meant for his mom, a she shed his dad was building off a path into their woods, but Reed had manipulated her into letting him have it for himself. She agreed so long as he kept up his grades and stopped getting into trouble at school.
In the end, Reed always got what he wanted.
He finished the project himself, building a private getaway all to himself. What he didn’t know was I liked to read here, too, away from the hustle and bustle of the vacation house. Between my parents, his parents, and us three kids, the place was a little too crowded for my taste.
Reed would probably have my head if he knew I snuck in here. He was a huge jerkface who scowled every time I entered a room, and he never let me or his sister, Paige, step foot in his precious lair.
Although I had to admit the place was pretty badass, but I’d never tell him that.
I kicked off my hiking sandals, grabbed my copy of Anne of Green Gables, and sat crossed-legged on the small, lumpy mattress. I set my alarm for one hour, just around the time Jerkface would come back from his swimming lessons.
Just as I started the last chapter, the sound of bells pulled me out of Green Gables.
Crap.
I hit the snooze button, determined to finish.
A huge shadow cast over me, blocking out the sunlight. With one hand clutched around a book and the other balled into a fist, Reed practically growled at me like a dog. I almost laughed, imagining fur on his back standing on edge.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”
“Finishing my book.”
He tossed the novel on the futon. “Like hell you are. Get out.”
“I only have two pages left,” I said. “Then I’ll gladly get out of your stupid lair.”
“If it’s so stupid, then why are you in here?”
That smirk on his face made my blood simmer more than his scowl. “Because our parents are loud, and all your sister wants to do is play with my hair. You’re not the only one who needs space sometimes.”
His eyes narrowed, and his jaw twitched. “Finish your dumb book then get the fuck out. Understood?”
I snickered. “Does your mom know you swear like a truck driver?”
He flopped down on the bed and picked up his book. “Rule number one: when you come here to read, no fucking talking, or you’re kicked out.”
Huh? He’s actually letting me come back?
I didn’t say another word and planted my eyes on the page. My brain couldn’t process a thing. This was the first time in the two years I’d known him that he’d ever sat this close to me by choice. The feelings that stirred in my belly were strange, like I was both fascinated and unsettled by him.
I dared to turn my head to look at him. He let out a frustrated sigh and set the book in his lap. “What?”
“Why do you hate me so much?” I didn’t mean for the question to slip out. I never wanted him to know that it bothered me. Our parents were best friends. We lived three houses away from each other. From the very first day he’d met me, his first words were, “Great. Another stupid girl I have to walk to the bus stop.” His mother smacked the top of his head and scolded him, and I grinned, sticking my tongue out at him. I didn’t like him from the start, and he obviously didn’t like me, but when I learned he loved to read as much as I did, curiosity won out over hate.
A small frown touched his lips, and I realized I never really looked at him long enough to notice how dark pink and plump they were. He was cute, as far as boys went, but he’d be even cuter if he smiled once in a while.
“I don’t hate you. I hate people in general, so don’t feel special.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t have any friends.”
“I don’t like them all that much, either.”
“Then they’re not really your friends.”
“I don’t need any friends.” He turned away and picked up his book. “I’m better off alone.”
I pushed down the strangest urge to touch him. “Everyone needs a kindred spirit.”
“A what?”