Smiling, I turned and stepped out of the building. I had walked only a few feet before the smile slipped from my face and my mind drifted back to my phone call with Justin. I hated that he’d called. That all of it came flooding back. That I would be thinking about it and him and Mom and everything I had worked so hard to bury.

I needed a distraction.

My phone vibrated from my pocket. I dug it out and read the screen.

Shaw: Hey

My heart did a stupid little flip. God. I so wasn’t that girl. The type who waited for the boy to admit he really really really liked her. That he wanted to be with her. I wasn’t that sad. I knew he wanted me. This was the same guy who had declared I was going to ask him for sex. It was my job to make sure that didn’t happen.

Me: Hey back

Shaw: Let’s go out

Well, that was to the point. Not such a surprise though. I was coming to expect it from him.

Me: I don’t date

Shaw: Except we did

Me: That wasn’t a date, remember?

Shaw: Yes, it was. Remember?

I swallowed back a sound that was part laughter and part snort. Cocky jerk. I could almost imagine his too-good-looking face—calm and devoid of expression. Just matter of fact.

Me: No offense. I just don’t date

Shaw: Is this some kind of rule of yours? You know what they say about rules

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. I knew what he was implying. Rules were meant to be broken. And yeah, usually I would agree, except my no-dating policy was of my own making. I only had a few self-imposed rules, and those I didn’t break.

Shaw: You seem like a rule-breaker type

Me: Not about this

And not with him.

Shaw: I can’t stop thinking about you. The sound of your laugh. And the little sounds you make when I touch you . . .

Heat flamed my face. I gulped and glanced around like someone could hear the seductive whisper of his words. Thankfully, no one was looking at me. I wanted to see him again, too. It was an ache in my chest. And in other parts. He made me feel special. Like maybe I was unique to him. Dangerous thinking. I shoved the phone back in my pocket, determined to ignore him, determined not to look again even when I felt it vibrate against my hip. I wanted a distraction, true, but he wasn’t it.

Facing forward, I resumed my trek across campus, tilting my face into the cold, welcoming the bite of wind, letting it chase away the lingering heat from a simple text conversation with Shaw. Simple? Nothing about him and how he made me feel was simple. And that was the problem.

In time he’d forget about me.

Even if I didn’t forget him.

I could live with that. I’d learned to live with a lot. This would just be one more thing.

THE GRAPEVINE WAS A French-style country bistro just a few blocks from campus. I didn’t need to drive there. I walked swiftly, determined to be on time. I jogged lightly over the crosswalk, my boot heels clicking sharply on the gravel street. Dad hated it when I was late.

It was the type of place you went to on a nice date—if the guy really wanted to impress you. It was a little pricey. At least that’s what I’d heard. Some guy took Suzanne there once. She thought maybe he was “the one.” At least she’d said that then. She’d said that a few times. Clearly he hadn’t turned out to be the one.

It was also the type of place where parents liked to eat because it wasn’t overrun by college kids. Parents like my dad. A Dartford alum and member of the board of trustees. He came to campus at least twice a year for meetings, and we always had breakfast or lunch on those occasions. Never dinner. He never stuck around long enough for that. He attended his meeting, checked in with me, and was gone by three. In and out and back to his life.

As I pushed through the heavy wood door, the hostess greeted me with a warm smile. “Hello, welcome to the Grapevine.”

My gaze skimmed the tall brunette, immediately recognizing her. “Beth?”

She blinked, angling her head to study me. I was dressed more conservatively than the last time she’d seen me, wearing a long wool skirt, my hair tamed smoothly around my face. I couldn’t hide the magenta streaks in my dark hair but I could style it less dramatically. My turtleneck sweater peeked out of my coat. “Uh . . .”

“Hi. I’m Emerson, remember? Reece and Pepper’s friend. I was at your engagement party.”

Recognition lit her eyes. “Ah, yes.” Her smile returned. “That was such a crazy night. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you right away.”

I nodded. “That’s okay. There were a lot of people there.” Including your cousin, I was tempted to add. I could see a little bit of Shaw in her—in the width of her high cheekbones.

“Yes.” She stepped closer, dropping her voice. “And I might have had a few too many margaritas.”

“You had cause to celebrate.”

Her eyes softened. “Yeah. I did.” She was obviously thinking about her fiancé. Cynic that I was, I was happy for her. This girl who had lost so much—a brother—deserved some happiness. And so did Shaw. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from going to him.

I knew I didn’t know the whole story, but it just didn’t seem right. “I’m friends with Shaw, too,” I added without thinking.

And maybe I shouldn’t have because the softness faded from her eyes and she just looked flinty-eyed and uncomfortable then. “You are.” It wasn’t a question. Only a statement. Turning sideways, she reached for the menus beside the podium. “Table for one or . . .”

“I’m meeting my father.”

“Oh, he’s here.” She set the menus back down with a nod and smiled. It was the fake hostess smile again. The other friendly smile she had given me when I reminded her of who I was had vanished. “Right this way.”

I followed her to the table where my father was sitting, talking on the phone with someone. He gave me a small wave.

Beth motioned to the chair and started to turn, clearly eager to escape.

“Thanks, Beth.”

She looked back slightly, her hostess smile still firmly in place on her lips. “My pleasure.”

I was still staring after her when Dad hung up.

“Emerson, how are you?”

I snapped my gaze to my father. “Good. How are you, Daddy? Did your meeting go well?”

He made a face. “Oh, they’re interested in opening a new building for the Theater and Dance Department. Can you imagine? Why would they possibly need an entire building?”