Page 7 of True Ruin

“Sorry, I’m lost.” Dallas shook his head, a wry laugh escaping. “I haven’t watched a movie since ’93. Hell, it might’ve been ’92.”

Kit barely seemed to hear him, thrusting the clipping at Dallas. “Mr. McHenry gave this to me. Said he kept it pinned to the bulletin board in the grocery office. You wrote it, like, forever ago. In the eighties.”

Repositioning his crutch, Dallas took the wrinkled page. The headline was faded, the ink bleeding at the edges, but his byline was still legible. An old Promise High editorial—too sharp, too ambitious, toohonestfor a sixteen-year-old who hadn’t knownwhere to put that fire. It was a decent piece, but why anyone had bothered to keep it all these years was a mystery.

“It’s good,” Kit said, practically vibrating at his side. “Like, really good. I’m thinking about joining the school newspaper this year. Maybe you could help me.”

Luca stretched for another look over Kit’s shoulder, a grimace twisting his face. “I could’ve done better with the photos.” Which made Campbell—world-famous photographer and Luca’s private tutor—laugh under his breath. Luca shot him an adoring glance that caught Dallas somewhere deep.

Because this kid was getting what Dallas had needed so badly at his age.

Dallas couldn’t help but be flattered, despite the tight spot he found himself in. Kit’s earnestness cut through the heaviness of coming home, and damn if he didn’t understand why Campbell and Fontana had opened their home to two teenage boys without hesitation. Family wasn’t always blood. Sometimes it was simply who made room for you.

Justin caught his gaze, his look pointed.See? Family matters.

Kit elbowed Luca, giving everyone—thank God—something else to focus on. “Told you he’d think it was cool.”

Luca rolled his eyes. “Whatever, fanboy.”

Dallas ruffled Kit’s hair and smiled. “I’ve got some old stories I can dig up. And pictures, though I’m sure they’re nothing like yours,” he added, glancing at Luca. “We can go over reporting basics to get you started.”

“I can’t wait!” Kit shouted, taking off toward the festival lights. Luca chased after him, the two of them arguing about their movie marathon as they disappeared into the crowd.

Dallas’s gaze fell to the clipping. Something strangely hopeful shifted in his chest. The soft press of the night and the low roll of music gathered around him, insistent as a heartbeat, nudginghim toward the idea that maybe he could let this place—and these people—back in.

Until he had to leave them again.

Through the open service window, Gabi stood with her sweatshirt sleeves pushed to her elbows. Her hair, pulled into a sexy little ponytail, shone dirty blonde under the dim wash of light, her smile wide as she laughed at something Lainey said. She hardly looked a day older than when he’d seen her last, and another unsteady pulse moved through him.

Maybe he shouldn’t want anything from this town, from his family.

Maybe he shouldn’t want anything fromher.

But when she glanced up—holding his gaze for a breath longer than chance—something inside him settled with startling clarity.

For now, he was done running.

Crazy, but there it was. Gabi Wilder was one reason he wanted to stay.

THREE

Something in the Way–Nirvana

Gabi arrivedat the Magnolia Grill two hours late thanks to Sam’s allergy appointment, only to find the man she’d been thinking about far too much all week camped out in the booth near the payphone, a spot most people avoided because the town gossip rarely reached that far. Propping the tray of blueberry muffins on her hip, she paused just inside the door before Dallas True caught sight of her.

A ballpoint clenched between his teeth, his attention fixed on the spiral notebook in front of him, he didn’t glance up when the bell above her head chimed. His lips moved as he crossed out something he’d written, an utterly adorable frown creasing his brow. A threadbare flannel fit snugly over his broad shoulders, and a silver ring on his index finger caught the light as his pen flew across the page. He squinted, dragged his knuckles over the scar on his temple, then sighed and fished through the leather satchel at his side.

And—oh,wow—his next move sent her heart to her knees.

The glasses were pure Buddy Holly, scholarly, but on him, wildly sexy. Just like at the festival last week, she found herself cataloging details as the scents of frying bacon and coffee drifted from the kitchen. There was something impossible to resist about the whole package, an appeal she couldn’t quite pin down. He was dreamy, sure, but not in an effortless, interchangeable, just-another-cute-guy way.

There was more here, layers and layers of more. For a girl who’d never been free to explore, who’d married someone before she even knew who shewas, the mystery of him was intoxicating.

She’d rarely crossed paths with a man she couldn’t read inside and out.

In Promise, she knew everyone’s story—and everyone knew hers.

Under the flickering fluorescents, Dallas was something extraordinary dropped into the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.