Page 25

Mira stood at the mouth of the alley, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun and a short black apron tied around her waist. She looked like she’d walked straight out of a memory from five years ago when Bryce and I would sit at the coffee shop and he’d watch her like she’d hung the moon.

She still worked here. After all this time, she still worked here.

I hadn’t considered for even a second that she might still be at The Daily Grind. I thought for sure she would’ve gone off to college or done anything besides still working here.

Mira took a tentative step into the alley, moving slowly like I was a skittish animal that might bolt at any sudden movement. Which, honestly, wasn’t far from the truth. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to run—to turn and flee before she could say whatever accusation was surely forming behind those dark eyes.

I wanted to be back in Montana where I wasn’t this pathetic version of myself. Where I could go back to pretending.

But I couldn’t move. My back was still pressed against the brick wall, Harry’s hard body still standing protectively against mine, and I was frozen in place like my feet had grown roots.

I braced myself for the hatred. For the anger and blame I’d been carrying for five years, finally reflected back at me from someone who had every right to feel it. Mira had lost him too. She’d lost the boy who was going to marry her, the future they’d planned together, all because I’d insisted on going to that damn competition.

But when my gaze finally met hers, there was no hatred on her face.

Her eyes were swimming with tears, but she was smiling. Her lips quivered slightly as her smile widened.

She looked relieved to see me.

And that look broke me open worse than anything else had since we arrived in this godforsaken place.

“Sam,” she breathed again, and then she was rushing forward, closing the distance between us in three quick strides.

Harry stepped back just in time for Mira to crash into me, her arms wrapping around my body in a hug so tight it drove the air from my lungs. She was shorter than me, but she held on like she was trying to physically keep me from disappearing again.

My hands hovered uselessly at my sides for a moment. I didn’t know what to do with them. I didn’t know what to do with any of this—the embrace, the tears, the complete absence of the condemnation I’d been bracing for.

But the longer she hugged me, the tighter her arms got around me, the more I relaxed into it, and without thought my arms wrapped around her until I was hugging her back just as fiercely.

My lips trembled and my eyes flooded with fresh tears that spilled over before I could even think about stopping them.

“Hey, Mira,” I managed, my voice cracking on her name.

She pulled back but didn’t let go completely, her hands gripping my upper arms like she was afraid I’d vanish if she released me. Tears were streaming down her face now, but her smile had gotten wider. Brighter. Like seeing me was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time.

“Samantha Lowe, as I live and breathe.” She laughed—a wet, watery sound that was half-sob and half-joy. “Where the fuck have you been?”

A startled laugh escaped me. Mira had never been the type to curse much. Hearing that word come out of her mouth was just as surprising as her apparent joy at seeing me.

“Montana,” I said, like that one word could explain five years of absence.

Mira shook her head, still smiling through her tears. “Montana,” she repeated. “You just up and disappeared.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I⁠—”

“Shh.” She reached up and brushed the tears from my cheeks with gentle fingers, her touch so familiar it made my chest ache. Mira had a maternal streak a mile wide. “We can talk about all that inside. I want to hear everything.”

Her gaze slid past me then, landing on Harry where he stood a few feet back, giving us space. Her expression shifted from curiosity to approval as she took in his height, his broad shoulders, the protective way he was hovering just close enough to intervene if I needed him.

“And you can bring your boyfriend too,” she added, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

She leaned closer to me but didn’t bother lowering her voice. “I’ve got to make sure he’s good enough for you. Bryce would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

My heart stuttered in my chest.

Bryce would never forgive me.

She said his name so easily. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, like speaking about him didn’t require bracing yourself first.