My heart is still thumping in my ears when we reach the patio with the umbrella. The tattoo artist is sitting on a patio seat across from Hazel, and by the tense arch to his brow, he’s not too happy about her condition.

“Oh, Savannah, there you are,” Hazel says with a smile. Her large sunglasses engulf her face, and she reaches a hand out to me. “Savannah, this is my Murph. Murph, this is my new nurse, Savannah.”

My stomach coils as I see the way she looks at him. Oh please, Jesus, do not let him be an old lover of hers. I would seriously have to consider moving again if that’s the case.

“Hello,” I breathe as she pulls me to sit in the seat between them. I can’t take my eyes off the bearded man next to me. He was just at the shop when I was. How could he have ended up here just after me? And how have I never heard of him in nearly a year?

“I didn’t know you got a new nurse,” he says without peeling his gaze off my face.

“Well, how could you? You haven’t called or come by in almost a year.” Hazel points a hard glare at him, but like all of Hazel’s hard expressions, there’s a playfulness there too. Even in her angriest—which I have seen a time or two in this difficult year—she always seems to have a laugh behind it. As if she’s laughing at the universe.

Murph’s face portrays far less humor. “I have no excuse. This year was difficult for me.”

“I heard about your friend,” she responds. I am a ping pong ball in the middle of their game, glancing back and forth, still struck by this new relationship—well, new to me.

He doesn’t answer, but I see him swallow. I’m desperately waiting to hear about his friend, but he doesn’t say anything, only clenches his jaw even harder. Was he this hard-looking at the tattoo shop? Why wasn’t I terrified of him then...because God knows I’m scared of him now.

“Savannah,” Hazel chirps, touching my arm with her hand. “Would you give Murph and I a moment to speak? I’d love a sweet tea.”

“Of course,” I croak. As I stand to leave, my eyes linger again on Murph’s soft lips peeking through the dark beard. It’s like he can see me watching as he licks them, sending chills down my spine. It’s got me wishing he would follow me into the house and corner me in some quiet room, which is definitely against my rules.

If I knew what was good for me, I’d ignore this guy, but even I know how unlikely that is.

“Where the hell did you find this one?” I ask.

Hazel laughs as she pulls a Pall Mall from her pack and hands one to me. Her thin fingers shake as she tries to light it, and I have to look away. “You know how I love my lost causes.”