But he said he doesn’t have a bank account. He said he keeps his money in his room.

“And they’re white roses,” she says, lifting the bouquet from the sofa. “Who’d buy you white roses?”

My hands tremble as I grab the small envelope stuck on the bouquet and tear it open. I withdraw the small white card.

“Embers,” it reads in scratchy, crooked handwriting that I doubt belongs to the florist’s employee. “You’re the only girl I’d ever kiss.”

Holy crap. It’s from him. Which means he went out and shopped… Which means he wrote this note.

Which means he remembered what I told him at the wedding.

My head hurts.

“Are they from him, then?” Kayla appears behind me, and I yelp and manage not to drop the roses in the last moment. “Jesse?”

“Yes.” I hand them to her, not sure what I want to do with them. With his note. His gesture.

“Well, see? I told you. Double hearts.” She smells the roses. “I guess we should expect snow.”

“It’s summer, Kay. Frigging warm, too.”

“Yes, but Jesse Lee sent a girl roses.” She winks. “Today’s date should be engraved in stone for future generations.”

I shake my head, suddenly pissed with this charade. “He kissed a girl right in front of me. Some stupid roses won’t make me forgive him.”

“Twelve roses.” She waves the bouquet at me, as if I didn’t notice it. “White. Beautiful roses.”

Huffing, I plop onto the couch. I’m pissed, but okay, I’m also a tiny bit in awe of the roses. Never received flowers from a boy before, and I’m slightly giddy.

A pity I hate him right now. He disgusts me. He sucks.

Oh God, I’m going to start bawling again. No way. I pull my laptop toward me, log in, absently check the updates of my Chicago friends. “You were right. I should never have slept with him. I was being stupid.”

“He’s hot. Told you I would’ve slept with him in a heartbeat.” She sinks on the sofa next to me. “The trick is not to fall in love.”

Yeah. Piece of cake. I click on my inbox to check my emails. I do that every morning, a habit I picked up a year ago because of assignments.

“You’ve never fallen in love, then?” I scroll down. “Ever?”

“Of course not. Love is too much work.”

I glance at the roses, left by Kayla on the low coffee table. “Gifts are a sign of a guilty conscience, right?”

“The only signs I know are star signs. Besides, Micah gives Ev gifts all the time, and I don’t think he’s feeling guilty for leaving hickeys on her neck. I think… Hey!” She suddenly picks the laptop off my lap and stares at it. “Did you see that?”

“No, because you took my laptop away. See what, Kay?”

“Customers! You got customers!”

“What?” We wrestle for the laptop and I win. I settle it back in my lap and check out the emails.

Customers. She’s right. People who want to order my jewelry. And not just my friends from Chicago. Unknown people. People whose names I’ve never heard of before.

Whoa. Unbelievable.

The bracelets seem to be a success. The earrings, too.

Holy crap. I stare at the emails, Kayla squealing beside me like a piglet, and all I can see in my mind’s eye is the pendant I wanted to give Jesse.

Why not? No matter what, despite my anger and misery, I want him to be okay, and if that pendant helps him fight his demons…

Damn. If I make money from my jewelry, and maybe return to college and study art, then I’ll have achieved my goal. This is what I came here for, to make it work, make my dreams come true and to stand on my own two feet.

Talking of dreams… A hot flush travels up my neck. No, I won’t think of dreams of Jesse right now, or the half-formed dreams I had of being with him.

I’m here. The older me would have turned and run. Run back to Chicago and my parents, the new-found safety, the cocoon they built around me.

Don’t get me wrong. I honestly believe they saved my life by moving away. My thoughts were very dark back then, and I wouldn’t trust myself not to harm myself. There had been moments life had held no meaning. Wasn’t worth living.

But they pulled me out of it—took me far from the bullies, found me a good therapist, kept watch over me. Kept me sane, kept me alive.

And if falling for Jesse was like tumbling down the rapids with no life vest on, and if hitting the rocks hurt, that only means I’ve let go of the life line, and I’m paddling now on my own. Life can hurt. But unless you let go, you can’t really live it.

I won’t regret my time with Jesse.

God, thinking of him in the past tense hurts too much, so instead I click open the page of the University of Madison and check to see what I need to do for my transfer.

***

When I walk out of the building around midday to meet with Ev for lunch, I feel a prickling sensation on the back of my neck and turn around quickly.

A guy is heading my way. Crap, he looks like Nick, only bigger than I remember him.

This can’t be happening. It can’t be Nick. Can’t be.

Yet, without any conscious thinking on my part, I start to run. My purse flapping at my side, I race across the street, cars honking at me, and dive into a busy side street.

“Amber!” I hear a man’s voice yelling behind me, and I run faster. “Wait!”

Oh my God. Oh God. He even sounds like Nick. The voice from my nightmares.

I duck into a shop and hide behind the door, like a prop from a cheap movie, the lady behind the register opening her mouth to say something.

I put a finger to my lips and give her an imploring look.

She frowns at me.

A guy comes pounding down the street, then he slows down to a stop and looks around. “Amber.”

Good God, it is Nick. It’s really him, or else a clone. Yes, he is taller and broader than I remember—but the face is the same.

My stomach drops to my shoes. Ice trickles into my bones. I back away, into the store, hiding between the shelves, trying to control the shivers. I half expect him to stroll inside, shove me down on my ass and invite his friends to laugh at me.

This is hell. Nausea rises in my throat. I think I’m going to be sick, and I drop to my knees and curl into the smallest ball possible, trying to fade into nothing.

I’m still hiding a good while later when the cashier comes to talk to me.

“What’s wrong? Should I call the cops?” She’s not that old, only the crease between her brows and some gray hairs at her temples indicating she isn’t my age. “I hope this isn’t some prank you’re playing in my shop.”

“Not a prank,” I assure her. “The man outside who was yelling me name—is he gone?”

“Your name? Amber?”

I nod, sweat rolling down my back.

“He’s gone.” She shakes her head as she returns to her place behind the counter, and I’m sure she still thinks it’s a stupid prank.

I don’t care. I thank her and step out, feeling cold in spite of the sunny day.

Ev is waiting for me at a diner she discovered tucked into a tiny alley. She waves at me and I go to join her at the back. Sliding into my vinyl seat, I do my best to smile and forget what happened.

Still don’t understand how Nick found me. What he wants from me.

I shiver and grab the plastic menu to cover it. “What are you having?”

“The burgers are divine.” She’s checking her phone, distracted. “And the onion rings.”

“Perfect. I’ll have the same.” I throw the menu back on the table, the thought of food making me queasy. “So how have you been?”

Ev isn’t fooled one bit by my performance, though. The moment she looks up from her phone, her smile drops.

“What happened now? Did you run into Jesse again?”

I think of the white roses waiting in a vase, so delicate and beautiful. “No.” I sigh, fold my hands on the table in front of me. I’m still rattled, and at least this is something I’d talk to Ev about—in contrast to Jesse and the roses. “I ran into Nick Harris.”