“I didn’t tell them where you were,” he tells me, his head still bowed to his blueprints as the rest of my family searches the other rooms.

  It’s not like it was hard for him to find me. He showed me this was here in the first place. They found it when Jax was planning the renovations, but it won’t be here for long. He’s tearing down the false ceiling to open up the room.

  “You could at least say hi to me,” he says, probably unsure if I can see him through the cracks. “It’s Lucas.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I sniffle, the dust up here tickling my nostrils. “I always smell you before I see you.”

  A laugh escapes him, and he hops up onto the table and comes at me, opening the latch. A square door big enough for a person to climb through opens up right under my head. “Hey,” he chides, pulling out the collar of his sweaty T-shirt to take a sniff. “Your sister-in-law bought me that cologne.”

  And why are you wearing cologne to the lake?

  But I don’t ask out loud. I like how he smells, I guess.

  He jumps back down, and I slide to the opening, peeking my head out.

  He pours over the blueprints. There are lines and numbers—measurements or something—and I can see several sheets for individual buildings. But he inspects one that has a layout of an entire ski resort. His dream project.

  He probably brought them with him today to get Fallon’s advice. Madoc’s wife is an architect, and also Lucas’s mentor at the architectural firm where they both work.

  “What are you going to call it?” I whisper, glancing around and not seeing anyone else.

  He sharpens his pencil. “I’ve tried not to think about it,” he replies. “If I plan too far ahead, it’ll jinx it.”

  “Don’t you need a mountain first?”

  It’s a ski resort. He’ll need a lot of land.

  He nods. “I’ll need investors for that.”

  “We have mountains here,” I tell him, hopeful.

  He tosses a smirk up at me. “No one flies here for skiing.”

  But they could. We have a small ski place about forty minutes away. My parents like it. It has an inn and restaurant and stuff, but I don’t think it brings in people other than locals. Maybe if we were closer to the city, we’d get some tourists.

  Unfortunately, I’m not very good at skiing. The other kids are, though. Everyone else loves speed.

  I float my eyes around the papers, trying to make out how it would look in real life. There are buildings, ski lifts, chalets...

  “Why do they call it the bunny hill?” I ask, remembering that slope being the only one I was good at last winter. And the winter before.

  He leans over his blueprints. “Sounds like a question for your journal.”

  My journal. Juliet gave me one when I was little and told me to put all of my questions in there. Then, we could work on researching the answers.

  I never did, though. I mean, I use the journal, but by the time my family and I sit down to look something up, I don’t care anymore. I just have other questions by then.

  “Have you ever tried snowshoeing?” I inquire next.

  I don’t like skiing, but maybe if there are other winter activities, I can go to his resort too.

  Lucas shakes his head. “That just sounds like work to me.”

  I twist my mouth to the side. Does everything have to be fast to be fun?

  I point to the chalets dotting the areas around the ski slopes. “Why are the roofs shaped like that?”

  They’re like tall, upside-down Vs.

  “I don’t know.”

  I sneer. “Yes, you do.”

  He looks up at me. “And so do you if you think about it for a minute.”

  I dig in my eyebrows.

  But sure enough, I look back at the houses, ponder if the shape of the roofs help keep in the heat before I remember that chalets are commonplace in mountains. Mountains get a lot of snow. And the steepness of the roofs lets the snow fall off easier.

  “Did you figure it out?” he presses after a few moments.

  “No.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  I try to keep my smile inside at the twinkle in his blue eyes, but it starts to peek out. “Maybe.”

  I see his cheeks crinkle with a smile as he leans over the table again.

  “Quinn!” Jared growls.

  I sigh. I guess I should forfeit, but it’s either get into trouble for hiding too well, or get into trouble for stealing ATV keys.

  “All right, let’s go outside!” Jared barks. “Spread out. You guys, stay in here and find her. Search the pantry, the closets…”

  “Would she have gone into the lake?” Madoc asks as they leave.

  I can’t make out Jared’s grumble, but no, I wouldn’t have gone into the lake. I’m not allowed to go alone.

  “You’re not going to give them a hint?” Lucas asks as the boys and Dylan shout and slam doors below. “Kade’s going to shut off the lights on you.”

  My eyes dart left to right, and for a second, my heart speeds up. I don’t believe in ghosts, but it’s harder to not believe in them in the dark.

  “Your brothers are worried,” he points out.

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why are they always worried?” I ask him. “About me, I mean.”

  They worry about their own kids, sure. Madoc is always dragging Kade away from one kind of trouble or another, and Jared is constantly telling Dylan ‘no.’

  But I’m not their kid.

  “Is it because I’m a girl?” I inquire.

  The way they tell it, they were running around town unsupervised, even at my age. Why treat their sister differently?

  Lucas looks up at me. “I think…” He hesitates. “I think it’s because they didn’t have the best experience with your parents growing up, Quinn.”

  I lower my eyes, anything I was going to say lost on my tongue. Lucas is the only one who tells me the truth.

  I share a dad with Madoc, and a mom with Jared. My parents are great with me, but they weren’t around for Madoc and Jared as much when they were younger.

  And Jax never had parents. Not really. His and Jared’s dad was a monster, and Jax’s mom left him when he was little. Mine and Jared’s mom took him in when he was a teenager, and she’s a good grandma to Jax’s son Hawke now. Very different from how she was when my brothers were young.

  I’ve put the pieces together from overhearing things in my life. I guess it’s just hard to imagine they used to suffer when I didn’t see any of it.

  “They want to always be there for you,” Lucas says. “And to make sure you know you’re loved.”

  They still don’t trust their parents. Not…completely.

  But still, I clear my throat. “Well, you can tell them to stop now.”

  He just chuckles. “They won’t ever stop. Your first boyfriend is going to be in for it someday.”

  “Not if I like somebody they already like.”

  “That might work.” He shrugs. “Or not.”

  It’ll work. It’s my only hope.

  “You’ll learn how to drive in a few years anyway,” Lucas points out. “You’ll be able to escape them any time you want.”

  “Not likely.” I wring out my hand, whipping off a spiderweb I picked up. “Half of my family races something motorized.”

  Like I would get very far.

  Lucas just laughs—the first time, I notice. He hasn’t laughed in a while.

  “Well, then you will too,” he assures.

  “You know I won’t.”

  My tone is final. I don’t feel that need for speed that the Trents and other Caruthers do. I like walks. And bicycles. And being a passenger.

  But he continues, “You could change your mind. When you were eight, you thought you were going to marry me too. Remember that?”

  “Oh my God.” Every follicle of hair on my head electrifies, but I force a scowl. “Gross. Shut up.”

  He laughs again, but I can feel the blush on my cheeks. When I was eight years old, I declared my devotion for him, but now I just feel embarrassed.

  Even if butterflies are taking flight in my stomach.

  Right now, I feel like I belong.

  I only feel like that when he’s around.

  Tilting his head back, he peers up at me. “How do you—”

  But his voice is cut off as Kade bellows, “Quiiiinn!”

  I round my eyes. He’s close. Is he coming to the kitchen?

  “I’m turrrning off the lighhhts!” he taunts.

  I suck in a breath, turning my head side to side. My skin crawls at the thought of the things that come out in the dark. Bats and spiders and clowns.

  Lucas puts a knee on the table below again and pushes himself up, about to close the hatch.

  But something on the little door catches on his shirt and he hisses. “Shit.”

  He jumps down, the nail nearly tearing the T-shirt off his body.

  Long, jet black lines fall down the back of his right shoulder. Like an upside-down V but curved like branches, arms splitting off from the main limb.

  “Lucas, what is that?” I burst out.

  I’ve never seen him with a tattoo. Did he have it this summer when we were all swimming? I would’ve noticed.

  He slips out of the shirt and yanks it down off the nail, causing it to rip. He turns, his back to the wall. “It’s nothing.”

  He avoids my eyes, inspecting the shirt in his hands. Shooting back up, he closes the hatch, but he gives me a wink as he hides me away again. “You got this,” he whispers.

  I smile.

  “Quinn, come on!” Kade bellows.

  But Dylan barks at him, “Just forfeit.”

  “Well, why don’t you?”

  “I’m bored,” Hawke mumbles.

  A door creaks open downstairs and several pairs of feet hit the floor.

  “Where is she?” Jared growls. “Now!”

  “Ugh,” someone groans.

  “Fine, we give up!” Kade shouts. “Come out! I forfeit.”

  I release a breath and race to the attic door in the great room, whipping it open. Climbing down, I hop onto a long dining table and dust off my clothes, everyone turning to look at me. Not Lucas, though. He’s gone.

  “What the…” Kade runs over.

  Dylan smiles. “Hey!”

  “What were you doing?” Madoc and everyone else follows, all of my brothers’ brows etched with aggravation.

  But Hunter pushes past his dad and climbs onto the table. “I didn’t know that was there! Let me see!”

  Kade, Dylan, and Hawke rush over as I jump down and out of the way.

  “We’re tearing it down to open up the room,” Jax tells his brothers. “There are yards of rafters up there.”

  Madoc peers up through the opening. “I wondered if there was a second level or something.”

  Jax shakes his head. “Just empty space.”

  “Who told you that you could play up there?”

  I look up at Jared. His voice is curt.

  Before I can answer, Dylan speaks up. “Oh, Dad. Leave her alone.”

  “Do you know how thin these boards are?” Madoc gripes at me. “What if you fell?”

  “Then I would’ve gotten hurt,” I point out. “And Dad would’ve blamed you.”

  Madoc steps in. “Why you little—”

  Jax pulls him back, clamping a hand over his mouth.

  Dylan giggles, and I fold my lips between my teeth. I can’t believe I said that.

  “Let me up!” Hawke yells as Hunter pushes Kade through the opening.

  “I want to see next,” Hunter says.

  But Dylan takes my hand, and we run as Jax grabs the twins by the waists of their jeans. “You two, come here.”

  Dylan and I race outside onto the porch and down the steps.

  I did it. I didn’t forfeit!

  “Kade has to steal the keys now,” Dylan brags.

  It won’t be hard for him, unfortunately. But I’ll admit, it’s nice to see him lose. He never does. Especially against me.

  The lake ripples with the light breeze, and I spot Lucas’s torn shirt on the beach. Dylan runs, joining her mom on the sand as she bounces James, Dylan’s baby brother, in her lap.

  Where’s Lucas? I walk down the dock, scanning the water, and then I turn my head left and right, looking down the beach. I want to tell him I won.

  Of course, that means I still have to go ATVing, which sucks.

  Sliding off my sneakers, I sit down on the dock and dip my feet into the water. I study the island out on the lake. Maybe a little smaller than a football field, it’s filled with trees and large boulders trailing up the hills. There’s a cliff you can jump into the water on one side, and I even heard there’s a small cave somewhere. A canoe sits on the beach. Is that where Lucas went?

  But just then a phone rings, and I look behind me, seeing a couple of people in the parking lot. I squint through the sun in my eyes and put my hand over my brow to see. Lucas?

  The next thing I know, something grabs my ankles, pulls, and I’m flying forward off the dock. “Ah!” My heart leaps in my throat, choking my cry just before I hit the water. I flail, screaming, but it’s just bubbles coming out of my mouth underneath the surface.

  I kick, but I’m hauled backward and quickly lifted up.

  I cough and sputter as Lucas holds me by the shoulders.

  “You big…” I struggle for breath. “…jerk.”

  He presses a finger over his lips. “Shhh…”

  I wipe the water out of my eyes, both of us crouched down and hidden underneath the dock. He casts his eyes upward, completely drenched himself.

  “That wasn’t funny,” I whisper-yell.

  He murmurs, “It was kind of funny.”

  Footfalls hit the dock, and he goes still.

  So do I.

  “What?” I mouth.

  But he just gestures, “Shhh!”

  Are we playing hide-and-seek again?

  The dock creaks under the footsteps, and I think I see two figures through the slits in the wood. Madoc and Jared, maybe?

  They don’t say anything, and I try to move to get a closer look, but Lucas keeps hold of me. I gaze up at him, his golden hair and long lashes over blue eyes.

  There’s two of them up there. And two of us. A pair.

  Finally, they retreat, but Lucas waits another minute or so. Eventually, he releases me and swims backward out from under the dock. “Later, gator.”

  My hair is plastered to my cheeks. “I hate you,” I gripe.

  He grins wide. “But you’re making me pizza tonight back at Madoc’s, right?”

  “Yes.”

  But I pout about it, not sure if I’m mad at him for getting my clothes wet, or mad that I’m never really mad at him.

  He beams. He loves my pizza.

  I wish we could play hide-and-seek as a team, but…

  We never get another chance.

  A year later, he’s gone.

  Leaves town. Doesn’t text. Doesn’t call.

  He’s grown up, and I’m not. I guess we weren’t a pair, after all.

  Quinn

  Nine Years Later

  I peer out the little window in the kitchen door, seeing the man still finishing his coffee. He sits at the table in front of the tall wall mirror, and he’s been there for two hours. I hate kicking people out, but…

  Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve never kicked anyone out.

  I usually rely on them seeing me switch the sign on the door and start cleaning up for them to get the hint that I’m closing.

  Here I am, though. Dishes are done, counters cleaned, trash taken out, dough prepped for tomorrow, and floors swept and mopped. I only have to pack up the leftovers for the day and count out the register, which I refuse to do when I’m alone in the shop with a customer I don’t know. Hailey, my cashier, and Noel, my barista, left hours ago.

  But as if he can hear my thoughts, the lone guy rises, buttons his suit jacket, and tucks in his chair. Aw. Nobody does that. I smile as he pushes through the door, leaving the bakery.

  “See you soon,” I call out.

  He doesn’t reply, simply turns his head slightly, showing me the side of his face, and nods once.

  Once he’s gone, I lock the door behind him and shut off the light. Heading to his table, I pick up his cup and saucer and swipe up his napkin to find a phone sitting underneath it.

  I look to the windows, then to the phone, grabbing it as I set the dishes down and run to the door.

  I open it and peer out. “Sir?”

  I look both directions, but all I see are diners sitting outside to my right, at Rivertown Grill, and some cars driving by. He’s gone.

  I lock the door again and inspect the phone, finally noticing how old it is. The gritty texture leaves patches of black on my hand, and I bring it to my nose, noticing the scent of fire. I flip it open, pressing buttons, but it’s dead. No one uses these anymore. What a strange thing to even carry.

  I shrug. He’ll come back for it.

  Swiping up the dishes again, I walk into the kitchen, set the phone on the counter, and place everything in the sink. I turn and move all the remaining pastries from a tray to a box.

  But no sooner have I started than Dylan comes bursting through the swinging door, from the front of the shop.

  I jump as she rushes me. “No, no, no!” she cries, running for the chocolate coconut donuts. “I need them!”

  Hunter laughs, trailing in behind her, followed by Hawke and Aro, Hawke’s girlfriend.

  Dylan barrels into me, and we take turns shoving each other with our hips for supremacy over the remaining baked goods.

  I snatch one out of her hand before she takes a bite. “No, you need to take them to the senior center and help me out.”

  I’m doing a test run for the summer to see if I can be a bakery and do some light fare for lunch too. Sandwiches, flatbread pizzas, soups….

  I’m staying open way too late, though, and trying to be back here at three-thirty in the morning to bake is making it difficult to find time for exercise, my family, or any kind of sleep.

  If I don’t get into a groove with my business soon, this trial will be a fail. I thought going to business school would teach me more practical applications, but I’m still struggling on time management. I learned marketing and accounting, and I’ve easily mastered things like strategy, taxes, and communication. But leadership? It would’ve been better for me to apprentice before jumping into my own bakery. Jared would tell me that real work experience trumps schooling every time. I don’t believe that, exactly, but I’d be better off if I’d slowed down.