Page 3 of Love Again

Once again, Keller commandeers the conversation. “Devon, listen to me. Devon. Focus.”

I turn to face him, and suddenly all the fight is gone. I feel empty inside.

“Devon, eyes on me,” he says again, and like the trooper I am, I follow orders and fix my gaze on his face.

Keller’s voice is slow and gentle, like he’s talking someone down off a ledge. His eyes, light liquid-brown, are kind. “I knew when you guys got together three years ago.”

He let that sink in. I open my mouth to speak, but he interrupts.

“And no one’s found out yet. Okay? Devon, eyes on me,” he reminds me. “I’ve kept your secret I n a vault.”

I hardly ever feel out of control. Not anymore. I work hard at it because, if I don’t, disaster will follow. It always does.

Right now, however, I am on the verge of losing it. There are pieces here in a story I don’t understand and certainly didn’t write.

I grip the hood of the car.

“Do you want to put your head between your legs?” Keller says, taking a step toward me.

I shake my head. “No.”

“You don’t look good, Devon.” Luke also draws closer.

Oh, that can’t happen. He can’t touch me.

I decide maybe I should sit down. “You two stay back,” I say, waving them away. I lower myself sideways to the edge of the passenger seat, my feet planted on the ground, elbows on my knees. I look up into their faces. Just this small surrender must have been enough for Luke to sense an opening. He takes it.

“I was going to tell you I was here,” Luke starts. “But I didn’t know how. And I wasn’t ready.”

What about me? When am I supposed to be ready?

To my horror, his voice, when he’s standing so close, reverberates in my chest. A hard, hot lump rises in my throat. It hurts to swallow, but gulping a little, I manage to quickly dissolve it. I can cry later, but not in front of these two.

“I was planning . . . “Luke swallows and starts again. “I was planning on writing you an email and then going to your apartment.” He stops and puts a hand over his mouth for a moment, seemingly to catch his breath. “I wanted to wait until I was—”

To my utter confusion, Keller puts a hand on Luke’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze and a warm shake.

They’re acting like old friends, buddies. But there’s no way. David Keller was the boys’ soccer coach when I was in high school. He said he couldn’t protect me out on the field and kicked me off when I was a junior. Working for him ten years later hasn’t been easy, but we’ve agreed to keep a lot of water flowing under a teetering bridge. There’s a tenuous truce that only gets tested at the station. On the job, we are professionals. He’d risk his life for me, and I’d do the same for him.

And Luke? He’s at least a dozen years younger than Keller. Plus, I met Luke out in Colorado. Max Sheppard, a mutual friend, had introduced us. Max was Luke’s childhood friend. He was also my trainer in the advanced placement program for smokejumpers. When he found out I was from Saxton’s Bay and Luke was from Orono, he thought it was hysterical we were both Mainers. “Even more reason for you two to be together,” he’d said. We were, and we did. It was a great year—until it wasn’t.

Then I left Colorado.

This is why I don’t ask Luke why he’s in Echo Bay. He still hasn’t said why he’s here and that question I needed to ask, the Why are you here?, became stuck in my throat when I leveled those questions at him earlier.

I refuse to be the answer to that question. I can’t be the reason he’s here.

When Keller’s hand drops from Luke’s shoulder, I start to ask another question, though. The one that will hold everything together. The answer would explain how Luke landed the job so fast. How they seem to know each other so well. How Keller is privy to our past.

But then, when they share a glance at each other and their faces are in profile—it’s clear.

I shut my eyes, so glad I’m sitting down.

Oh. My. God.

Chapter Two

Luke