Page 71 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

Once upon a time, she’d been a constant for me too.

My North Star.

“I’ll have to get everyone’s contact info from you,” I said. “Now that I got to talk to Londyn, I’d like to say hi to Gemma, Kat and Aria too.”

She nodded, her fingers flying over the phone’s screen. “I’ll text you their numbers.”

Clara had been right about driving the Cadillac. It was a dream and every minute behind the wheel made me love it more. The hum of the engine and the gentle whisper of the wind took the place of any conversation as the miles disappeared beneath the tires.

Neither Clara nor I spoke of the question she’d asked me last night.

Was it real?

For twelve years she’d doubted the answer. Was it real?

Clara had been as real as the stars in the sky and the dirt below my feet. But at nineteen, I hadn’t realized how much she’d meant. As a friend. As a lover. The sex had been incredible. Maybe I’d blown it up in my head because I had been nineteen and a guy and, well . . . it was sex. That had been fairly top of mind at that age.

When I’d walked away from the junkyard, I’d had no idea that Clara would stick with me. I guess I’d thought it would be like my breakup with Londyn. Just time to move on. But Clara had always been different, hadn’t she? She’d always been there, like a quieter version of my conscience.

When I’d stop to catch a pretty sunset, I’d wonder if she was watching it too. When I’d sell a house, I’d hear her applause. When it was time to move on to a new town, I’d hope beyond all reason that I’d bump into her at the grocery store.

Now here she was.

If this was the universe’s idea of ironic timing, it was a sick fucking joke.

Why now? When I’d finally decided to let go of the past. When I’d finally settled down in the town I planned to live in for the rest of my life. When I’d found Holly, the first long-term girlfriend I’d had in over a decade.

Time always seemed to be working against Clara and me.

As we reached the outskirts of Temecula, my hands tightened on the wheel. Tension crept up my spine, stiffening my shoulders and arms.

Clara fidgeted in her seat. Every minute she’d shift, tucking a hand under a leg or twisting to stare in a different direction.

Our exit approached and I dragged in a long breath, then hit the turn signal. Here goes.

“You okay?” I asked as I eased off the freeway.

“I don’t know yet. Ask me later.”

There was so much worry in her face, not even the large sunglasses could disguise it. Coming back here was always hard, especially after moving away. But my own anxieties vanished at the fear on her face.

I’d been here before. I’d lived here again. This trip was for Clara, and like Aria had said, she shouldn’t do this alone.

“Where do you want to go first?” I asked. “Hotel? Or junkyard?”

“You said you wanted to check on the junkyard before your meeting tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but we don’t need to go there right away. We can get settled first at the hotel. Ease into this.”

How people did this commute every day, driving in and out of California cities, was not for me. Most of the properties I sold in Elyria were for people who worked one, sometimes two hours away.

“I think . . .” Clara clasped her hands on her lap. “I think let’s go to the junkyard before I chicken out.”

“I’ll be right here with you.”

She looked over and some of the worry lessened. “I know.”

I aimed the car in that direction. The hotel I’d booked was on the opposite end of town, next to the parks where they often launched hot air balloons. Maybe August would get to see one today or tomorrow.