“How do we do this?”

“This way.” He wanders into the woods on the left, to the edge of the fence. “Careful—there’s poison ivy in here.”

“I think I’ll be okay.” I peer down at my boots and jeans.

Kyle holds out his hand.

Despite my better judgment, I take it, silently reveling in the warmth and strength of his fingers. And when we round the fence through the woods and make it to the overgrown path on the other side, neither of us lets go.

Blood rushes through my ears the moment we push through the branches and step out onto the rocky cliff. Three more large yellow warning signs are posted strategically: “No Jumping,” “Danger: Rocks Below,” and another “Trespassing Forbidden” for good measure.

Kyle cringes as he reads them. “They’ve ruined the view.”

“My memories have ruined the view,” I mutter, eyeing the rocky path down to the alcove below warily, a hint of nausea stirring.

Kyle releases my hand and wanders over to the edge. The lake is quiet, no one on it save for a sailboat in the distance, nothing more than a white speck against the dark blue water. “Not all of your memories, though, right?” he asks quietly.

It’s surreal, seeing him stand there with his back to me again. I’ve seen him in that exact position so many times—first in real life and then in my thoughts. First as the tall, slender seventeen-year-old boy who stole my heart, then as the one who broke it.

And now as the man who still holds my heart, despite everything.

I move to linger beside him and peer down over the water. It’s daunting, even more so now. If I close my eyes, I can still imagine the tomato-red camp counselor T-shirt, still feel the hot sun beating down on me and the mixture of fear and thrill churning in my stomach, still hear my terrified shriek as I plummet through the air.

I can still see the boy I was crazy about from the moment I first saw him, waiting at the bottom for me, taunting me.

“My best memories of my life will always be here, with you,” I admit. But is that where Kyle—where we—belong? In our memories?

“Would you still jump if I asked you to?” His voice is soft. “If I was down there, waiting.”

“Yes. Probably,” I whisper. “Except the climb back up feels like so much more work now, Kyle. And so much more dangerous. It’s the climb back up that I don’t know if I can do again.”

When I open my eyes, I find him staring at me, his gaze filled with a mixture of grief and resignation. “It feels off, being back here, doesn’t it?”

I wrap my arms around my body, suddenly chilled. “It feels . . . sad.” It doesn’t help that the place is shut down, but even if it were buzzing with children’s laughter, it wouldn’t be our Wawa. It’ll never be that again. “We’ll never get those days back.”

“No, we won’t.” He smiles sadly as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out two Fun Dip packs. “For old times’ sake?”

I can’t help but laugh, and an unexpected wave of relief washes over me. “Yeah. Sure.”

I let him take my hand again and he leads me over to the large, flat boulder where we used to sit and talk and kiss for hours. He settles down next to me and hands me the cherry flavor. “Here. You like this one better than I do.”

We tear open the packages and set to work.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually eat one of these properly,” I muse, admiring the way he sucks the powder off the stick.

“This hot sixteen-year-old girl taught me how.” He smiles, his eyes drifting down to my mouth, watching with intense interest.

“Remember the first time we kissed? It was up here and I was eating one of these. You lied and told me you were allergic to cherry.”

“Yeah, for someone who hates lying to you, I sure seem to do it a lot, don’t I?” His gaze wanders out to the lake. “Two truths and a lie?”

“Why not.”

“Okay.” He shifts closer. “I knew I loved you since that day, sitting up here on the rocks, when you made me own up to our bet.” Locking his fingers with mine, he goes on. “I have loved you every day since then.” His golden eyes settle on me, and there’s a slight sheen to them that makes my heart ache. “I still love you, even if you don’t feel the same. Even if you never want to see me again.” He swallows hard. “What’s my lie, Piper?”

I release a shaky breath and manage to whisper, “That’s a trick question,” before pressing my lips against his with the slow, tantalizing ease that I remember of our very first kiss out here on this rock, so many years ago.

A kiss that could never be mistaken for goodbye.

Coming here now—with everything now out in the open—feels like the end of something tragically beautiful.

But it also feels like the beginning of something new. Something strong.

Maybe I’m a fool, maybe this is the point where Kyle and I are supposed to part ways and move on with our lives.

But I’m not ready to give up just yet.

“Promise me no more secrets, Kyle.”

His body heaves with the sigh of a man who has just had a thousand-pound weight lifted from his chest. “I have nothing left to hide.”

My phone chirps with an incoming text. I frown as I dig it out of my pocket. “They actually work out here now?”

Kyle points at the cell tower across the lake. Another mar on the peaceful vista.

“It’s the real estate agent. He’s in the parking lot, wondering where we are.” I sigh. I could sit out here with Kyle all afternoon, reliving our stolen moments. But this place isn’t for us anymore. It’s time we move forward. Together. I slide my hand through his. “I guess we should get back.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he murmurs, sounding equally reluctant. “But first . . .” He slips his fingers free of mine, kicks off his shoes, and begins peeling off his clothes, an impish grin on his face.

Epilogue

December

“Where did you find this caterer?” Christa asks, inspecting a piece of lettuce from her canapé with a frown. Whatever’s about to come out of her mouth next will not be complimentary.

Ashley doesn’t answer, cracking a bottle of champagne and scampering away to top off flutes, even though there are wait staff in tuxedos to do that. She knows that what Christa is actually annoyed at is the fact that Zelda, Ashley’s psychic, not only showed up to our housewarming party, but she’s perched on the couch—Eric next to her, in his chair—and offering free tarot card readings.