“Thanks again for driving me to my dad’s,” she says, and I get a flash of driving her home after school. There were so many times when I wanted to pull over and kiss her.

But there were even more times when it just didn’t happen.

Her phone goes crazy with text messages as soon as we’re back on the road and within cell service range. I’m curious who the messages are from, mostly because I don’t see how Chloe could be single. Jealously sizzles through my veins at the thought of her having a boyfriend, and I need to knock it the fuck off.

She’s busy replying to the messages on the short drive from the park to her dad’s house. The rain is starting to fall harder when I park in the driveway. My heart jumps into my throat when I turn and look at her. I put my BMW in park and shove that fucker back down where it belongs.

“It was really good to see you,” I say slowly, resisting the urge to reach out and brush back that loose lock of hair that’s starting to curl around her forehead. “You look…good. Really good.”

“Even wet?” she asks and then closes her eyes, realizing she’s said something awkward yet again. “You know what I mean.”

I laugh, mind—again—going to her being a different kind of wet. “I do, and yeah, even after you’ve been caught in the rain.”

She blushes and unbuckles her seatbelt. “You look good too, though you always have. It’s not fair.” Her lips pull into a smile. “I’m glad I got caught in the rain when I did.”

“Me too.” The car is in park yet we’re still sitting here, hearts racing. “Do you want to go out and catch up?”

“I’m having dinner with my dad and Wendy tonight or, um…yeah.” She leans toward me, just a bit, and the curl falls into her eyes. I can’t help it this time. I reach out and tuck it behind her ear. I sweep my fingers down along her jaw, and Chloe shivers again. Part of me wants to kiss her right here and now, just to see what would happen.

If it would feel as good as I’ve imagined.

Her phone dings with another text, startling her. She tenses, and I jerk my hand back. “How…how long are you in town?” she asks.

“Until Tuesday,” I say, though I’d only planned on the weekend. If she’s here, I want to be here, trying to make up for all the lost time. “Come over sometime if you can take some time away from your book.”

Her lips curve into a smile again, and the rain starts to come down harder. My heart is hammering in my chest, and I’m feeling entirely too vulnerable right now. She gets another text message, and when I shift my eyes down to the phone in her hand, I see someone named Charles is texting her. It has to be her ex. Are they back together? Maybe they—fuck—I need to give it up.

“Rory would really love if you came over. She’ll be here for a few more days and she has her baby with her, of course. You were always like a sister to her…to all of us.”

“Oh.” The smile disappears from Chloe’s face. “Yeah…a sister.” She lets out a sigh. “Thanks again, Sam. Tell everyone I said hi.”

Without another word, she gets out and walks away.

Chapter Nine

Chloe

Like a sister.

I close the door to Sam’s BMW with a little more force than necessary, fingers slipping from the handle due to the rain. Focusing my attention on the front door of the house, I walk up the driveway, each step squishing beneath my feet.

I’m so stupid. Naive. I guess I’ll never change.

Sam is still in the driveway when I get onto the porch, and I make it a point not to turn around and look at him. Really, I shouldn’t be mad. Not at him. He did nothing wrong, and offering to take me home so I don’t have to walk in the rain was nice of him, and I’m quite thankful because thunder is rumbling overhead again. The storm is getting its second wind—literally. It would have taken me a while to walk back from the picnic shelter. I’m already cold, and there’s no promise a tree wouldn’t have fallen on me. If the impact alone didn’t kill me, I could very easily become hypothermic and die a slow, painful death.

Okay, probably not since it’s still seventy-five degrees out, but the dirt is cold, and I’d at least be chewed to near death from bugs. Sighing, I swing my backpack over my shoulder and get the house key, though I don’t need it. Dad left the house unlocked, like so many others do in this small town. Yeah, Silver Ridge has a low crime rate, but walking into an empty house that’s been left unlocked freaks me out a bit.

Balloon comes running, barking his little head off. At least I’d know if a stranger was hiding inside the house…unless they’ve secretly worked on slowly building trust and this little yorkie-mix sees them as a friend. Dammit, I overthink things way too much, but that’s what makes me a good writer, I hope at least.

“Hey, buddy,” I tell Balloon, peeling my wet clothes off in the foyer. I ball them up and bring them into the laundry room. I turn my boots upside down on a towel and make a mental note to put them out in the sun when the storm finally passes so they can dry.

I go right upstairs and get into the shower, grumbling to myself the whole time about how pathetic and stupid I am. It’s easier to focus on being angry, to mentally kick myself over and over than it is to admit just how much it hurt—how much it still fucking hurt—to hear Sam refer to me as a sister again.

You were always like a sister to her…to all of us.

And she was to me, but Sam was never like a brother to me. So much for all the inspiration I found sitting out in the woods. If Kellie—my main character—were here, she’d slap me and tell me to get out of my funk. To get over it and not waste time on a guy. Though she’d also fight to the death for Marcus, her one true love.

“Fuck,” I sigh and sink to the shower floor, putting my head in my hands. I stay there for a few minutes, doing the breathing techniques I learned during my yoga lessons, and actually feel a little better when I stand back up, quickly shampooing and conditioning my hair so I can get out of the shower.

I started writing my Nightfall series as an escape. Kellie is everything I wish I could be, and her romance is what I dream of. It’s not perfect, she and Marcus fight and bicker, but their love is truer than anything, and it’s one of the things people love so much about the series. Love can conquer all, even though you might have to kill a few demons here or there to get to that point.

Toweling off my hair, I dress in sleeper shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Balloon is waiting outside the door for me, and I go downstairs to get us both a quick snack. I have two and a half hours until Dad and Wendy will come back for dinner. I can get a lot written in two hours, leaving the extra thirty minutes to get myself looking halfway presentable.

But as soon as I open my laptop, I toss my head back in frustration. Charles matches the description of Marcus perfectly, and fans of the series had already envisioned him playing the sexy vampire before the books even got optioned for screen. Tall, muscular, with dark hair and dark blue eyes, Charles is perfect to play him, but I always envisioned someone else, and that someone just reaffirmed my worst fear from when we were kids.

The man I’ve been in love with sees me as his sister, and that’s not sexy in the least. I need to give it up, to get over it, and accept—finally fucking accept—that Sam will never look at me the way I look at him.