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Jack
I ignoredher shaking hand as she opened the door. She wouldn’t want me to draw attention to her nerves, so I pretended not to see it.
But I saweverythingwhen it came to Whitney Rose.
And her nerves didn’t stop me from leaning over and buckling her into her seat.
After all these years, I couldn’t believe she just crashed back into my life as if our shared history meant nothing. As if all those times I held her when she ran away from her mom’s house to avoid her drunken rages hadn’t happened.
While I struggled to understand my feelings about her sudden reappearance in Haver’s Creek, one thing was undeniable: I felt relieved to have her back in my life.
She’d been my best friend before she vanished on me without a word.
No goodbye.
No see you soon.
Just broken promises.
And she looked better than ever. The girl next door, all grown up. Her rich, mahogany colored hair fell in soft waves that framed her face. Her pouty lips formed an adorable heart shape that drew my eyes almost immediately.
She sure as hell wasn’t the lanky teenager who had left Haver’s Creek a decade ago. She was a woman with curves. A woman who had settled into her body.
I’d be interrogating her already if she hadn’t just gone through a new bout of hell getting into this accident.
Before I got into the car, I carried Whitney’s suitcases over and secured them in the truck.
My guys breathalyzed Whitney’s mom on the scene. She wouldn’t legally be allowed to drive after this third and final strike.
I knew her record like the back of my hand.
What a mess.
And yet, things always ended this way with Ellen Rose. I shouldn’t have expected anything less.
But unlike in high school, I wasn’t consoling Whitney. I highly doubted she’d let me if I tried. I shook my head and looked over at Whitney, who also appeared to be lost in thought.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Sprinkles?” I reached over to brush some hair off her forehead, but Whitney swatted me away.
How did we get here?
From best friends to strangers.
I always felt like I only had one half of the story.
Using my signal, I turned right at the fork and continued to drive. Fortunately, everything was nearby when it came to Haver’s Creek, so it wasn’t long before we were pulling into Savannah’s driveway.
Throwing the car into park, I turned off the flashing lights, not wanting to draw any more attention than the black and white vehicle already did on its own.
Neither of us moved. We just sat there in silence.
“You know the route to my sister’s house,” Whitney observed.
No accusation or annoyance. Just curiosity.
I breathed in her scent, amazed she still smelled like vanilla, even after all these years.
Undoing my seat belt as I turned to face her, her eyes trained on me.
