Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Three minutes.
That was all it took for Emma Mitchell’s world to implode.
Minute one: She’d used her old key to let herself into her childhood home and left her luggage by the front door.
Minute two: She’d collapsed onto the familiar worn sofa.
Memories had flooded back: days of doing her homework, walking the dog, evenings helping her mother make dinner and doing dishes while music floated in the background, nights playing board games with her family.
And the evening that on this very sofa, her dreams had come true, then her world shattered.
Minute three: She’d frozen at the clunk of a door shutting. Her brother was in Europe. The house should be empty. Petrified, Emma remained motionless as a rustle of shuffling feet sounded through the laundry room and into the kitchen.
She needed a weapon. She jumped up, grabbed a giant book from the coffee table, and slinked towards the noise.
A shirtless man with lean shoulders and dark wavy hair rummaged around the fridge’s contents. Anxiety rushed through her. Even before he turned to face her, she recognized those shoulders, the hair, the stance, the strong legs, and the man who had been the infatuation of her entire existence.
Mason Gray. An intruder would have been easier to deal with. An intruder could be reasoned with or run from. An intruder wouldn’t steal her heart. Oh crap, she found herself wishing for an actual intruder.
Mason straightened and turned. When his eyes landed on her, a moment of shock skittered in his chestnut eyes. He smiled.
Emma’s heart skipped a beat—no, two beats. Perhaps it stopped beating altogether because her body went numb and refused to move.
In those endless seconds, a world of emotions grabbed her and yanked her back through time.
Her brother’s best friend had taught her how to throw a football, helped her study for her AP World exam, came to her for advice on the endless streams of girlfriends that flocked to him, and encouraged her to dream big.
Three minutes. That was all it took. One. Two. Three. Three minutes to undo three years of moving forward.
Mason had been here to comfort her after her mother’s death when she’d come back her junior year of college. When Emma had returned for the holidays her senior year, he’d made love to her on the sofa on New Year’s Eve. It had been magical and beautiful and the realization of all her desires.
Then he’d received a text. His ex-girlfriend, Kaylee.
He’d suddenly lost interest in her, as if he were a million miles away, pulling all his clothes on and saying, “Oh shit. It’s Kaylee.” Then he’d disappeared.
The next afternoon, when she’d not heard from him, she’d searched his social media, which he never posted to. Nothing.
She had checked Kaylee’s, and her breath caught. Mason’s ex had shared a picture taken of them only that morning.
Kaylee wore full makeup and wowed in a stunning, sparkling dress.
Kaylee had been the most beautiful girl in Mason’s senior class.
In the photo, her arm coiled around Mason’s waist, while his arm draped lovingly on her shoulders.
The image was captioned “Forever My Hero” with three heart emojis.
He was still wearing the clothes he’d left her house in.
With her heart officially broken, Emma had turned her phone off, packed her things, and driven back to her apartment in Columbus, Ohio.
She hadn’t answered Mason’s text late the next evening that said, Sorry about last night.
Or the text that asked, When will you be home again?
Or the text three months later: Happy Birthday, Em.
Or the text, Congratulations, when she graduated from Ohio State.
She didn’t answer the phone when he’d tried to call. She didn’t ask her brother about him.
Three years had passed faster than the last three minutes. Emma blinked.
“Em.”
Her name on Mason’s lips warmed her, and her heart pumped again. Unfortunately, it now beat with a thud, thud, thud that thrummed in her ears.
“Mason. What are you doing here?” she asked through a constricted throat.
“I’m house and pet sitting while your brother is in Europe.”
“Oh,” she replied as her mind raced. She couldn’t stay here. Not with Mason in the house.
“How long are you in town for?” His smooth voice comforted and tortured at the same time.
“I’m moving back, and I’ll be here at the house until I find an apartment. I can watch Riley.” She was trying to tell him he could leave without telling him that he had to go.
Mason’s smile blossomed as if the news pleased him. She wanted to cry but also to wrap her arms around him and forget the hurt that had plagued her with his rejection.
For her sanity, she needed to come straight out with it. “You can go home since I’m here.”
“Wish I could, but there was a fire in my neighbor’s apartment last week. They won’t even let me back in to inspect the smoke and water damage.”
“That’s awful,” she said.
“So it looks like we’re stuck together for a little while.” Mason shrugged.
He actually appeared pleased at their predicament.
This was going to be torture. She was stranded for this evening, but she’d get out early in the morning to search available apartments. Her brother, Andrew, wouldn’t be home for weeks. Each moment with Mason brought back memories and longing and pain.
“I’m making dinner. I’ll toss in enough for both of us,” Mason said.
“Thank you,” she managed as she debated jumping in the car, grabbing takeout, and securing a hotel, but she didn’t want to blow through her savings, and she would need a deposit for a new place. She was trapped.
“Chicken okay?”
“Yes,” she said. “I need to unpack.” Unpack her clothes, unpack her life, unpack the emotions that had been carefully stowed away and left to fester like hidden treasures in the storage facility of her mind.