I shush her with a finger to her lips and her eyes widen in amusement. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore. It’s over. I’m ready to move past it.” She grins behind my fingers and it’s infectious. Christ, how I’ve missed her.

  “So where does this leave us?” she asks when I drop my hand. Isn’t that the million dollar question? Unfortunately, I’ve never been good at any sort of game show, and I have absolutely no idea what the answer is.

  I shrug. “I’m not sure. I know I want us to be friends.” And maybe more than that . . . someday.

  “Then that’s where we’ll start, as friends.” A tiny part of me had been hoping she would keep pushing me for more because I know that, despite my loud bark, I never would’ve bit. I‘d have given in to her in a heartbeat. But this is good too. I like this. I’m glad I found her here tonight, and I’m really glad we got to talk and hash things out. I already feel lighter, like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders—a weight that I’ve been hauling around with me for the past eight years. It’s an amazing feeling.

  Bending forward, I kiss her cheek then trail my lips to her ear. “Friends,” I whisper, noticing the goose bumps that pop up on her neck just before I walk past her toward the door.

  “Hey, boss?” I turn around and look at her. Her bangs fall into her eyes and she pushes them away from her face.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to need off every other Friday starting tomorrow.” She’s no longer smiling; in fact, she looks a little nervous. I want to ask her why she needs off, but something inside of me says to let it go. Judging by the strained look on her face, I’m going to go with my gut and trust that if it’s something important or serious, she’ll tell me when she’s ready. Plus, I don’t want to push it. We’ve already come so far tonight and I want to end it on a good note.

  “That’s not a problem.” She nods jerkily and I ignore the sinking feeling that is taking place in the pit of my stomach. “So I’ll see you Monday?”

  “See you Monday.”

  “YOU LOOK LIKE HELL, bro.” Mason slaps my back, pushing past me to grab a chip from the bowl on the table. My best friend, Harley, decided to have an impromptu barbeque and so here I sit at her kitchen table on a Sunday afternoon with her adorable son, Max. “And you just got pummeled in Connect Four by a five-year-old.”

  “Five and a half!” Max yells, slapping Mason’s hand away when he tries to ruffle his hair.

  “Get up, Levi, let me have a shot at this.” Mason pushes me from my seat and makes a show of stretching his neck and cracking his knuckles. Max laughs and begins to copy his movements. Mason is so good with Max—well, actually he’s great with every kid. I’d never tell him that because his head would swell to epic proportions and Mason’s head is big enough the way it is.

  “Kick his butt, Max.” I hold my fist out. Max bumps it and then scowls at Mason. I walk outside and step up to the grill next to Tyson, Harley’s fiancé. “I am so glad that it’s you doing the cooking and not me.” Tyson slides me a glance and smiles. The stupid man hasn’t stopped smiling since he proposed to Harley, and I can’t blame him—she’s one hell of a woman.

  Before Tyson was in the picture, Harley and I spent a lot of time together. There was even a brief period when I actually thought we might end up together. I didn’t love her, not like that, but I love her as a friend and Max means the world to me. I was determined to make sure they both had a great life, but Tyson has that honor now, and I was more than happy to pass the torch.

  “Levi,” Harley says tenderly, walking toward Ty and me. She stands up on her tiptoes, kissing me on the cheek, and Tyson growls. Harley and I just laugh. It’s hilarious watching him get all territorial when she’s around me. The guy seriously has nothing to worry about. He put a huge-ass rock on her finger and she’s head over heels in love with him. “Walk with me,” she says, tugging on my arm. “I haven’t talked to you in a while.”

  Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I pull her into my side and we stroll over to the picnic table and sit down. “That’s not true. You came to Flame the other day and saw me, remember?”

  “Ah, yes,” she says as she straddles the bench to face me. I can tell by the look on her face that I’m about to get pelted with a million and one questions, and I’m sure it has everything to do with Laney. “You’re referring to the day I brought you donuts for breakfast.” I nod, waiting for it. “The day that a cute little brunette came barreling into your office and then freaked out and ran when she saw us hugging.” I knew it.

  “So how’s Max?”

  “Nice try,” she deadpans. “Spill it. I want details. Who is she, why did she look like her heart was breaking and why don’t I know who she is?”

  “Christ, you’re nosy.” I narrow my eyes at Harley, trying to figure out how much I want to share with her, mainly because I really don’t know what’s going on between the two of us myself.

  The thing is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Laney since I walked out of the kitchen three nights ago. She’s consumed my mind. I’ve thought about her voice and the way her eyes lit up when she showed me the pie she made. I’ve thought about her fingers tugging on my hair and the way her body molded to mine. I’ve thought about how perfect she felt and how much I’ve missed her over the years.

  Unfortunately, I also can’t stop thinking about that sickening feeling I got when I walked away. I spent the better part of the weekend staring at my cell phone, convincing myself that I didn’t need to call and check on her. But I wanted to. I wanted to hear her voice again and see her beautiful face, which sort of pissed me off and ultimately led me to shoving my phone in the top drawer of my desk and locking it. How on earth did she manage to weasel her way back into my head in one night?

  I’ve convinced myself that it’s just me being nostalgic. She’s a shiny new toy all over again and that’s all it is. It’ll wear off. The more I see her, the more I’ll realize that what we had really is in the past and we are better off friends. Yup, I’m going to go with that.

  “You can sit here and stare at me all day. Hell, you can even give me the silent treatment, but you are not moving from that spot until you spill the beans.” Harley’s relentless, and I know she’s not kidding. She will hound me until I tell her who Laney is.

  “Laney was the first girl I ever loved,” I answer, rubbing my hand down the front of my face. “I’m going to need a beer for this.” Harley shoots up and darts across the yard, grabs a beer from the cooler and runs back. She pops off the top and hands it to me with a cheeky smile.

  “Keep going.”

  “Okay. Long story short, we were young and in love and it was incredibly intense. She got accepted into culinary school across the country. I yelled. She cried. She left. She’s back. There, that about sums it up.”

  “Wait a minute,” Harley interjects. “Back up. Why did you yell?”

  “Because I didn’t want her to go. But that’s a moot point now anyway because we’ve talked through all of that.”

  “Okay, but what exactly did you guys talk through? What happened?” I groan, taking a long pull from my beer. I’m not comfortable giving Harley all the details of my past with Laney. I don’t mind her knowing about Laney, that’s not the problem. It’s just that Laney was the love of my life and what happened between us is personal. Plus, Harley is extremely overprotective of me, and I don’t want her to think badly of Laney for not choosing me.

  “Harley, I’m not going to give you the details. It’s not just my story to tell.”

  “Oh my gosh!” Harley gasps, her eyes wide as though she discovered the meaning of life. “You love her. It’s okay, I understand. You don’t have to give me details.”

  “No,” I shake my head frantically. “No, I don’t love her. I did love her—did being the operative word here.” The whole time I’m talking, Harley is shaking her head and it’s starting to tick me off.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t believe you.” I open my mouth but Harley holds her hand up, so I take another drink of my beer instead. “Levi, you used to tell me everything . . . sometimes too much. But you told me stuff about the girls you were with because you didn’t care. You didn’t care about them and you certainly didn’t care about their feelings.” I cringe at what she’s saying and she pats my leg. “You’re not telling me about Laney because she means something to you. Her feelings mean something to you.”

  I blink. Damn. I sometimes forget how perceptive Harley is.

  “So can you tell me what’s happening now?” she asks with a smirk, eyebrows raised. “Because I know something is happening. When she walked into your office, she looked like someone kicked her puppy.” I can’t help but laugh because that is sort of what she looked like, and it was adorable. I’m not going to lie, when Laney walked in and I saw her face, I was actually quite amused. I know it’s an asshole thing to think, but I like that she was jealous. I just hadn’t been prepared for her to run off before I could introduce Harley and set things straight.

  “Eight years ago we went our separate ways, and now she’s back and wants to make amends.” That’s the easiest way to put it. I’m itching to tell her about our kiss, but that make me feels like a fucking pussy so I take another chug of my beer. I don’t want to make it seem like more than what it was. Because it wasn’t much, I don’t think. Yes, it rocked my world and brought back a flood of emotions, but I’m trying to forget that part. Which is proving to be difficult considering that every time I think about her, I get hard.

  “Wow,” she whispers. “Sounds a lot like Ty and me.” Tyson and Harley had been best friends since childhood, and Tyson, being the idiot that he was, left for medical school and never looked back. Okay, that’s not true. He looked back about five years later, realized he’d made a huge fucking mistake and came crawling back on his hands and knees. And now here they are, the perfect couple, happily in love and planning a wedding.

  I run a hand down the front of my face and nod my head, because it does sound a lot like Ty and Harley. I sigh, deciding that maybe it would be okay to talk to Harley about some of what happened.

  “She made it very clear that she still has feelings for me, which is why she had the ‘kicked puppy’ look. Previously, she’d asked if I was married and I told her no, so when she walked in and saw you, I think she thought I lied to her.”

  Harley frowns. “I’m sorry that she thought that. I can talk to her if you want.”

  “No,” I wave her off. “I talked to her and told her we were just friends. Anyway, we spent the majority of that evening hashing stuff out and I think it really helped. There were things that both of us needed to get off of our chests. I just wish we could’ve said them eight years ago.”

  Harley nods in understanding. “So where does that leave you now?”

  “It leaves me with a friend and a constant hard-on. Ow!” I laugh when Harley slaps the side of my head.

  “Promise me something?” My eyes roll back into my head and I groan. I hate it when she starts off with that. Harley is glaring at me with her lips pursed and brows furrowed. I wave my hand, urging her to get on with it. “You always told me that you’re never going to settle down. You said you’ll never open your heart back up to the possibility of love.” I nod. She’s right, but the vow I made myself eight years ago doesn’t seem as strong today as it did at the time. Not that I’m going to tell her that. “You’re an incredible man, Levi. You’ve got this big huge heart that’s made of solid gold, and I really don’t want to see it go to waste. So promise me you’ll keep an open mind. Don’t close yourself off to the possibility of love. If you have feelings, then you need to act on them, and if you don’t, then you need to be upfront with her so you don’t lead her on.”

  “Thank you, Hallmark,” I answer sarcastically, turning to look at Tyson when he busts out laughing. Harley shoots him a stern glare and he just shrugs his shoulders.

  “Leave the man alone, babe!” Ty hollers, making his way toward us.

  “Do you promise?” she asks, completely ignoring her fiancé.

  “I promise.” That’s not a complete lie. I do plan on keeping an open mind when it comes to Laney, but I’m still not so sure about the whole love-and-forever thing. That part may take a while.

  “Levi!” Max yells, plowing out the back door and into the yard. “Wanna play soccer?”

  “Absolutely.” If her loud huff is any indication, I’m certain Harley wasn’t done—but I sure as hell am. This little boy is growing up way too fast, and if he wants to play soccer, then soccer we will play.

  I WILL NOT CRY.

  I will not cry.

  Dang it.

  Tears burn hot behind my eyes and despite my silent pleas to keep them away, I just can’t. The water from the shower is pouring off my body and I just stand and let it all out. I can’t fight my emotions anymore. I can’t hold everything in. I’ve been on the verge of tears all weekend and it’s been pissing me off.

  I should be happy and optimistic. My first treatment went off without a hitch and I feel pretty good, if you don’t count the extreme fatigue that is plaguing me despite having slept for ten hours last night. I have no nausea, no vomiting, and yet I feel like I’m dying on the inside. Oh wait . . . that’s because I am.

  The thought of dying is what does it—it’s what finally pushes those tears past the confines of my lashes. And this time, I let it. I let it consume me. I let it own me in hopes that purging it from my system now will give me a renewed strength to fight it later. Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I fold my body in two. Tears race down my face, emotion crawls up my throat and a loud sob rips from my lungs.

  I can’t believe this is happening.

  I don’t want to die.

  I’m not ready to die.

  I have way too many things that I still want to do in life, like get married, and have babies, and grandbabies, and travel to Italy . . . or better yet, Paris. I want to kiss my husband atop the Eiffel tower under a blanket of stars. I want to go whale-watching off the coast of Alaska, ride in a hot-air balloon over a reserve in Africa, and make love on the beaches of Bora Bora.

  For the first time, it hits me that I may not ever get the chance to do those things. I’ve thought about dying, but only in the abstract. I’ve never actually thought about all of the things that I could potentially miss out on.

  My trembling hands ball into fists and I pray for the strength to make it through this. If I can just make it through this.

  Stay positive.

  Think good thoughts.

  That’s what the nurse told me.

  “Good morning, Laney.” Her smile is way too bright for an oncology unit, if you ask me, but I suppose there’s a reason for that. “My name is Heather, and I’m going to get you started.” I follow behind her, but I don’t talk. She leads me into a small private room that has a hospital bed, one of those really uncomfortable hospital recliner chairs and a TV. An IV pole sits in the corner and I look away, trying to ignore the bags of clear fluid that are already hanging from the metal hooks. “First treatments can be emotional, so everyone gets the option of having theirs in private. You’re more than welcome to receive your treatment out on the floor with the rest of the patients, if you’d like. It’s completely up to you.”

  “This is fine,” I mumble. Heather smiles and pats my arm.

  “I can’t imagine how scary this must be for you, but we’re going to make it as painless as possible. Feel free to take your shoes off and relax, make yourself comfortable. Most patients prefer to sit up in the chair, but you’re going to be here for several hours so if you’d prefer to, you can lie in the bed.”

  I kick my shoes off and sit in the chair, the tight plastic squeaking when I work to make myself comfortable . . . as if somehow sitting a certain way could manage to accomplish that. “Is there someone here with you today?” I nod my head. Luke, Mia and Benny are all sitting not-so-patiently in the waiting room. They’re like a bunch of mother hens that wouldn’t take no for an answer, but it warms my heart to know that they all cared enough to want to be here with me. My mind drifts to Levi. I wonder if he would’ve wanted to be here with me . . . had he known. “Once we get you hooked up and started, I’ll be sure and get them for you.”

  “There’s three of them.” I laugh, and Heather looks at me and smiles. “I tried to convince them that I’d be fine, but they insisted on coming. I don’t know why,” I say with a shrug. “I have no idea what they’re going to do for the next five hours.”

  “Support you.”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s what they’re going to do for the next five hours. They’re going to support you. Believe it or not, this is usually just as hard on the loved ones as it is on the patients themselves. They need to know they can help out, even if it’s just in the form of support.” I look away, tears pricking the back of my eyes. She’s right. I never really thought about what this is doing to them. I shouldn’t be so hard on them for hovering. “Let them, okay?” I look back at the petite nurse, who seems to be imploring me to do as she says with her eyes more so than her words. “I see a lot of patients come and go, and some of them do this completely by themselves. No loved ones to sit by them or encourage them or hold their hand when they’re scared or sick, and I can’t imagine how that would feel. So let them. Let them worry about you. Let them sit here for five hours and watch this drip into your arm.” She points to the IV bag. I’m thankful Heather told me that. I needed to hear it. “They’re doing it because they love you and they’re scared.” I give her a tremulous smile and she nods. “Okay then. What do you say we get this started? Are you ready to get your first treatment out of the way?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  And I did.

  With three nervous Nellies hovering around me and asking a ton of questions, I did it. It wasn’t at all what I expected either. It didn’t hurt. I had a small wave of nausea hit shortly after it started, but they gave me some ‘extra stuff’ in my IV that stopped that.