CHAPTER THREE

At last, they surrender.

The quiet between us had taken on a life of its own. The night in the rain, the evening Lena kissed me, the night my best friend tasted like warmth and pity the night everything went crazy was a week later.

A week of half-written apologies, ignored messages, and lengthy, painful pauses during which I questioned whether I had dreamed everything. She was missed. Not in the intimate, informal manner of a buddy. But in a deep, throbbing hunger that rendered sleep seem futile.

When she did text at last: Come on over. We must speak.

In less than fifteen minutes, my pulse was...