She’d expected to miss Chase when she returned to the city the way she’d missed Sarah—a friend she loved, a friend she missed, and a friend she always rejoiced to see again. How foolish she had been. Chase was not her friend—Chase was her lover. Time had no meaning where the heart was concerned, and she’d lost hers.

* * *

At four thirty in the morning, Chase was used to the lodge being nearly deserted. Clara was usually up, though, and the coffee was usually hot and ready. Chase wasn’t bothered by what Clara might think about her having spent the night upstairs and not in her quarters across the way. Clara had known her since she was fifteen and was used to seeing her come in at all hours, a fond smile her usual welcome.

This morning, Sarah greeted her at the coffeepot.

“Morning,” Chase said briefly and reached for a cup. All she wanted was to snag some caffeine and go. She’d been serious when she’d told Lily she had things to do, but mostly she’d needed to shake off the hit she’d known all summer was coming. In a week Lily would be gone. They’d played by the rules—grabbed every moment they could and made the most of it—and each second was more than she’d ever imagined. Oh sure, the sex was fabulous, as anyone looking at Lily for a heartbeat could have predicted. But the rest—the easy silences, the even easier revelations, and Lily’s endless understanding—filled a hunger she’d never recognized and knew now she’d never be able to sate with anyone else. She’d never wanted to feel what she felt for Lily, and she should have been more on her guard. Hadn’t she seen it before and sworn that would never be her—the one left behind to grieve? She’d watched her mother grieve her father’s absence until the day she died, and Chase mourned them both still, as she knew Sarah did.

She had never been looking for love.

“Hi,” Sarah said. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Chase gave her a look. “I didn’t. I was upstairs.”

“Ah.” Sarah smiled softly.

Chase gritted her teeth. Could she just walk out with a wave? Like that had ever been possible with Sarah.

“It’s hard to believe camp season’s almost over,” Sarah said with studied nonchalance.

“The season isn’t,” Chase said just as nonchalantly. “Once the campers leave, you’ll still have tourists coming up for the guided hikes and the fall foliage shuttles and the Halloween—”

“Stop!” Sarah laughed. “You’re giving me a headache. I haven’t even gotten the kids out of here yet.”

“Everyone will be gone this time next week,” Chase said flatly.