Page 7 of Secrets in the Deep

That was the moment Ryan realized he’d be seeing a lot more of Emily than he’d anticipated. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“He can do his job and we’ll do ours.” Ryan stepped into the parking lot.

He’d just reached his truck when Zac grabbed his arm. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” The word was a reflex. Said to protect himself. To move on from this conversation. And to get the hell out of here.

“It’s okay tonotbe okay.”

No, it wasn’t. Because then the weight of everything might set in. Everything he’d lost the day he’d broken up with her. The life he’d thought they’d create together but hadn’t. “I’ll see you later, Zac.”

Zac sighed, releasing his arm, and Ryan climbed into his truck.

Some of the guys would stay on set for the day. There was a schedule so that at least two of them would always be there.

Ryan wasn’t on for the rest of the day. Good. He needed a second to himself.

The drive back to his house was short. A part of him wanted to go to the old firehouse that they used as their SAR base. Do a workout. Run or hit a bag.

But some of the guys might drop in, and he didn’t feel like talking.

He’d go for a run through the woods behind his house. Exhaust his body that way.

He pulled up in front of the old bungalow-style home. An elderly woman had owned it before him, and he’d spent most of his time fixing the functional things, like rotting wood on the front porch and repainting the weathered exterior siding.

His gaze caught on the flowers in the front yard. Flowers he looked at every time he got home because he knew exactly who would appreciate them.

Inside the house, he ignored the floral wallpaper beside the staircase and walked through the living room to the right, to the kitchen where peach-colored tiles acted as a backsplash.

He grabbed a bottle of water, and when his phone rang, he knew who it was before looking at the screen.

He hit answer as he moved toward the staircase. “Hey, Nora.”

“Oh, youarealive.”

“If you’re referring to me not answering your last text, Idohave a job, you know.” He took the stairs two at a time before passing a spare bedroom and stepping into his room.

“You mean the lastfivetexts, right?”

He put the call on speaker before setting it on his drawers and drinking some water. “Those texts all came in the span of an hour.” He changed into shorts.

“Your point? Was there something more important than me, my burnt lunch, and a smoke alarm that refused to turn off? You know, I got a visit from my super. He spoke to me like I was two.”

“Nothing’s more important than you, Nora.” The damn truth. His sister was the only family he kept in contact with. They had a mother, but neither of them had seen her in years.

“Then what…”

Fuck. Ryan knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Emi,” Nora breathed. “Is she?—”

“She’s here.” He grabbed his earbuds from the drawer and headed back downstairs. “It was the first day of filming.”

His sister had been the one to send him the article all those weeks ago. The one that confirmed Emily was replacing the lead actress in the film. That she’d be here, in his town, for a prolonged period of time.

“Have you spoken to her?” she asked quietly.

“Briefly.” If you could even call that speaking.