Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

“In five hundred feet, turn right.”

The loud voice of the GPS cuts through the music that, along with the cans of energy drinks in my passenger seat, has been keeping me awake for the last hour. I’m in the home stretch—literally just half a mile to go—but it feels like the longest part of the drive. What was supposed to be a nine-hour trip has stretched into over thirteen, after hitting rush hour traffic in Atlanta and wasting an additional thirty minutes stopping for gas.

As I focus on the pitch-black surroundings, I reach for the energy drink in my cup holder and tilt my head back, hoping for at least a drop to keep me awake for the rest of this drive without crashing into a tree. Just as I turn right, down the street from my dad’s, I catch a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye and slam on my brakes as a jogger emerges from the shadows, dressed in dark clothing with thick headphones covering his ears.

My tires skid, slightly, as I come to an abrupt stop, my heart racing. The guy stumbles to the side, and I can barely make out his silhouette before rolling down my window and apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you at all. Are you okay?”

I can feel his stare but can’t make out his face; he doesn’t respond. I hit the lock button and hover my finger over the window button.

“Okay, you be safe, and I’m really sorry again.”

I drive off slowly, keeping the stranger in my rearview mirror.

“Your destination will be to your left.”

A sigh of relief escapes me as the driveway comes into view, and I slide into one of the two parking spots beside my dad’s house. I put the car in park and relax into my seat, grateful to finally be off the road. But when I glance back into my rearview mirror, I see the stranger I nearly hit just moments ago now running up my dad’s driveway.

Panic courses through me, jolting me into action. Without thinking twice, I open the glove compartment and grab the pepper spray I’ve never had to use but always feel better having within reach. My heart pounds as I take the safety off, the need to protect myself overtaking my thoughts. My dad isn’t home to help, and at nearly two in the morning, the chances of any Good Samaritan being around are slim.

I fling open my driver’s door, stepping out into the cold November air. I shiver in my thin jacket as the jogger approaches.

“Stay back!” I shout, my voice trembling as I press my thumb down on the trigger, sending a stream of spray in his direction.

“What the fuck, Lina? Is that mace?” He stumbles back, his hands instinctively reaching up to shield his face.

I stand frozen in place. “How do you know my name?” I shout. He ignores me, gasping as he trips over the lawn, making a beeline for the hose coiled against the side of the house. A floodlight by the back door flickers on, illuminating him as rushing water fills the air and he frantically splashes it onto his face.

He lifts the hose over his head, letting the water run down.

Realization suddenly hits me at who I just pepper-sprayed.

The new neighbor I had met all those years ago—and the one night we spent together—fills my mind. “Julian?” I ask in disbelief.

As I tuck the mace into my pocket, I take a step forward, suddenly needing a better look at him.

He’s bigger than I remember, with broad shoulders that fill out his sweater, hinting at the toned arms beneath that I don’t recall him having before.

It’s been ten years, Lina. Of course, he’s taken better care of himself than the nineteen-year-old he once was.

And I just maced him.

I cringe at the thought, wrapping my arms around myself as I take a few hesitant steps closer.

“I had no idea it was you. I am so sorry.”

He shifts slightly, turning off the hose, and stares at me with an intensity that sends a chill down my spine, the glimmer of red in his eyes cutting through the dim light.

“You said that before when you nearly ran me over,” he replies, clearly irritated.

“And I apologize again. It’s been a really long day, and that drive was so much harder than I remember.” I pause, frustration suddenly bubbling inside of me. “What were you even doing out at this time? You need, like, reflective gear or something—and maybe a sign that says you come in peace!”

“Noted,” he replies, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I wish I could say it’s good to see you, Lina, but so far, it’s almost killed me.” He walks past me toward his house next door.

“I said I was sorry!” I call out again, my voice trailing off.

With a heavy sigh, I grab my bags from my car, shuffling through my key ring for the copy he gave me all those years ago, back when we hoped to make my visits more frequent.

Once inside, I’m shocked at how time seems to have stood still in the cramped living room that suddenly feels smaller than ever. The overwhelming scent of his cologne clings to the air, wrapping around me and holding me in a chokehold as unbidden tears fill my eyes.

Nope. I cannot sleep here.

I leave my suitcase in the corner of the living room and head back toward my car, opting for the front seat instead. Once I’m settled in, I gaze out the darkened window, staring up at the house next door. My mind drifts back to that night so long ago and the boy I spent it with, wondering what would have happened if things had turned out differently.