My jaw tightens at the sound of my name. The worst thing about moving back to the town where I grew up is that people occasionally recognize me. Thankfully, it’s a big enough town that it doesn’t happen too often, but I suppose I should expect it when I’m standing in front of the elementary school that I attended back when I was Josh’s age.

I turn to greet the teacher who recognized me. But before I can say hello, my mouth falls open.

“Tim?” I manage.

It’s Tim. Tim Reese. Who lived down the block from me during my entire childhood. My best friend.

Well, until I left town without saying a word to him about it.

“Brooke!” His face lights up. “It’s really you!”

As Tim sprints across the grass surrounding the school, I get a better look at him. And… well, wow. When we were little, Tim was a cute kid. Lots of freckles and a smile that made all the adults love him. And then near the end of high school, he shot up six inches practically overnight, and he became a little less cute and a little more handsome, but still too skinny and gangly. But now he’s filled in completely, gained the weight he needed and some muscle on top of that. The freckles are long gone.

Tim Reese is hot.

I self-consciously run a hand over my dark hair, which I pulled back into a messy ponytail before I left the house. I’m also wearing an oversized T-shirt and yoga pants. This is not what I would have liked to be wearing to run into Tim Reese for the first time in ten years. But it is what it is.

“Hey,” he says when he gets closer to me. “This is so wild. I saw you across the lawn, and I was thinking to myself, ‘That can’t be Brooke Sullivan. I’m imagining things.’ But it’s you. It’s really you.”

“It’s me,” I say stiffly.

He grins. “I can see that.”

And then we just stand there awkwardly. Well, I’m feeling awkward. Tim can’t seem to stop smiling. I don’t get what he’s so happy about, and it’s irking me.

“So.” I scratch at my elbow. “Are you a teacher here or…?”

He rakes a hand through his hair, which always reminded me of the color of a maple tree. “Well, actually, I’m the assistant principal.”

“Oh!” I fix my lips into a smile. My lips feel like putty. “That’s awesome. Congratulations.”

“Uh, thanks.” He rubs his chin, and I can’t help but notice there’s no ring on his left fourth finger. “How about you?”

“Me? I’m a nurse practitioner.”

His eyes light up. “You’re our new nurse?”