I had to be coming down with the flu. A voice from the past wouldn’t affect me like this.

I cleared my throat, praying my tone didn’t betray my emotions, uh, correction, the state of my health. “Caro, what a surprise.”

I gave myself a mental pat on the back. I’d given nothing away.

“I’m sure it is.”

“How did you get my number?” I wondered out loud.

“It’s the same one you had back when we…we were friends.”

“Friends?” I barked out a disbelieving laugh. We’d been way more than friends that summer, and my depraved mind immediately conjured up images of Caro’s gorgeous body naked in the moonlight. I swallowed hard and couldn’t stop my dick from responding to those memories.

Our passion had been hot and blinding. Judging by the difficulty I’d had wiping her from my thoughts recently, also epically memorable.

“Yes, we were friends.” Her accusing words cut deep. She was right. We’d been more than fuck buddies. We’d been each other’s confidants and sounding boards. We’d spent hours talking about our hopes and dreams. She’d planned on attending nursing school in the fall. I had two more years of school and would be going the college route to further my hockey career.

I’d ended it badly with her. Instead of making promises I couldn’t keep, I’d been bluntly honest and told her we were too young, had no future, and had a great time while it lasted. I’d cut her loose and myself, never telling her I loved her, because at sixteen, I didn’t know what love was.

I’d been an ass, and I still saw the stricken look on her face. She’d recovered quickly and shot back with her own biting words about what a jerk I was, and she’d be glad to be rid of me.

I’d blown it. I felt a twinge of jealousy that what her husband had should’ve—could’ve—been mine.

“Easton, I need to talk to you. In person.”

“You do?”

“Tell me when, and I’ll come to you.”

She was willing to come to Seattle? I recovered quickly. “All right. I don’t have a game on Sunday. Where would you like to meet?” I controlled my tone, coming off as all businesslike and suppressing the hundred questions scrolling through my head.

“I don’t know Seattle.”

“I’ll text you a location. Does seven p.m. on Sunday work for you?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Easton. I know this must seem weird.”

She was right about that. We said our goodbyes, and I was left with those hundred questions and not one answer.

Chapter Six

The Hardest Thing

~~Caroline~~

Facing him after all these years would be the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. I didn’t know what to expect. No doubt my news would come as a shock. Would he be angry, be in denial, or walk away and never look back? All worst-case scenarios. In fact, I’d made a list last night of the best and worst things that could happen when I told him. Then I’d written notes on what I wanted to say and gone over them several times in an attempt to memorize them.