“They did. She took the car without permission, and she didn’t even have a learners permit. She hit the side of the garage and dented the bumper when we came home. She accused me of ratting her out, but all the evidence was there. I don’t know why we didn’t take the train. Or walk! Plus our clothes smelled like cigarette smoke.”

“Shit. I bet it was way worse because you’re girls.”

“Oh definitely. She was so mad at me, thinking I’d been the one to tell, so she told my parents I’d been making out with some high school boy in a closet.”

Lance’s mouth drops, but it’s not shock; it’s a devious look of satisfaction. “She told them about me?”

“Oh, yeah. She was actually pretty jealous that I ended up in a closet with you. It was kind of funny. Not at the time, obviously, but later, when we weren’t in trouble anymore. Her telling on me backfired, though, because they blamed her for that too. I don’t think she talked to me for at least a month.”

“If anyone should’ve been giving the silent treatment, it’s you. She let me steal your first kiss.”

“And I’m still okay with that.”

Lance grins. It’s warm. “Me too, even if I shouldn’t be.”

“You were so sweet about it, even if you were drunk,” I tease.

I slide my hand across the table. Lance watches the movement and flips his over, palm facing up. I stroke the length of his fingers.

“So what happened after that?” he asks. “Were you grounded?”

“We both were. I wasn’t much for going out, so it wasn’t a huge punishment for me. Mostly it meant my parents didn’t go anywhere and nagged my sister all the time.”

“So you really were a good girl?”

The way he says it sends a shiver down my spine. “I guess. I mean, I didn’t go looking for trouble. I had a small group of close friends, and I wasn’t really into parties.”

“Did you like living away from Chicago after you moved?”

“It was hard to start over, but my dad had gotten a job offer in Galesburg. It was this small town, quaint and community oriented. They thought it might help tone my sister down.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t.”

“Not really. She always seems to find trouble, no matter where she goes.”

“What kind of trouble?”

It’s my turn to shrug. Cinny has never had it easy. She’s a restless soul. “She’s reactive, and she doesn’t consider the ramifications of her actions.”

“Sounds a lot like me.”

“I don’t know if I’d agree with that. I mean, sure, you’re reactive, but that’s kind of your job, isn’t it? I think you know what the ramifications are going to be before you take the action.”

“So I premeditate my bad decisions?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Now you’re putting words in my mouth. I wasn’t just referring to the bad decisions; I was referring to all decisions.”

“Ahh. I see.”

I decide to switch gears since we seem to be getting serious again. “How hard was it to move from Scotland as a teenager? Leaving all your friends couldn’t have been easy.”

Lance spins his glass, watching the wine swish. “It wasn’t that bad. Getting out of Scotland was…necessary. I had my cousins. I knew I’d get to play hockey, and there was a lot of talk about how I was destined to play professionally.”

“Clearly they were right.”

“That part wasn’t so easy. I spent all my free time on the ice, trying to catch up to the kids who’d been skating since they were born. I had to work ten times as hard. A few times I got passed over for the minors. That sucked.”

“But eventually you made it.”

“I did. I spent three years on the farm team. A couple times they almost let me go, but then someone saw some potential, and I got picked up.”

“I remember when you were drafted to Nashville.”

“Yeah?” The corner of his mouth lifts.

“I remembered what you said about how I could tell people you’d been my first kiss.”

“And did you?”

“No. It wasn’t something I wanted to share.”

Lance focuses on the table. “I guess not, after all the shit you’ve seen and heard about me, aye?”

“That’s not why. It was my memory. I wanted to keep it to myself. And it’s not like I believe everything I hear or see on social media, anyway.”

Lance looks down at his empty glass of wine. “Some of it is true.”

At my silence he glances up. He looks guarded.

“Is that a warning?”

“I don’t want you coming into this thinking I’m some white knight with pure intentions.”

My stomach twists. “What are your intentions?”

It’s a long time before he finally whispers, “I don’t know.”

A lump forms in my throat and drops to my gut. I start to retract my hand, but Lance curls his fingers, catching mine. At my hard stare he sighs.

“There’s a lot of stuff I’m probably going to have to explain along the way that isn’t going to be easy to hear.”

“I’m not a delicate flower,” I snap.

“Sure you are, pretty Poppy.” His face falls completely when I try to pull my hand away again. “I’m sorry. I’m overthinking everything, and I’m being a dick.” He brings my hand up to his face and uncurls my rigid fingers, pressing them against his cheek again. His eyes flutter shut, and he follows with a shaky breath. When his eyes open, they’re hot with want. “This feeling—what you do to me—I’ve never had it before, and I don’t want to lose it. But I probably don’t deserve it.”