“So you didn’t tell them.”
“I didn’t tell them,” Eric agreed, grinning. “And you won’t, either. Mom’ll kick my ass if she finds out.”
Brett snorted. Mrs. Hamilton was a force of nature, by her own right. “Your secret’s safe with me. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Eric warned.
Brett brushed past him without answering, using a tiny bit more force than necessary. If this is how they treated their friends around Anna, then she’d never find a man strong enough to deal with those buffoons. He almost felt sorry for her, but then he pictured her married to some other man…
And he wasn’t filled with pity anymore.
How odd.
When he stepped outside on the veranda, he drew in a deep breath. Something about being back in town on a warm spring night felt pretty damn amazing, even if he did hate this town and the memories that came with it. He ran a hand through his hair and studied the stars. He never could make out any constellations. Anna used to spend hours outside, drawing the constellations and staring through her expensive telescope.
Did she still like the stars?
And did she still draw?
He’d been too busy avoiding her to know what she enjoyed in her free time. It wasn’t too hard to do, considering the fact that he lived an hour and a half away. Most of the time, he succeeded in pretending she didn’t exist. But then, on nights like tonight when the stars were out in abundance, he remembered their nights in this garden, lying flat on their backs staring up at the stars, and he missed her.
But he never called her.
“Still trying to find the Big Dipper?” Anna asked, her voice soft. “Or did you finally figure out what it looked like after all these years?”
He turned toward her, his heart speeding up at the sound of her voice. Why did it keep doing that around her? It was just Anna. She sat on the stone bench in front of the roses. The deep red petals behind her brought out her light blonde hair, even in the moonlight. Her soft beauty came to life amid the nature and night shadows. Was her skin softer than a rose petal, or her lips as red? Or were her lips—?
What the fuck was he thinking, going all poetic about her lips?
He needed to go back to his penthouse ASAP.
Plastering a smile on his face, he walked closer to her. “No, I gave up on figuring out the stars a long time ago. It’s a hopeless endeavor. Much like me.”
She shook her head. “You’re far from hopeless.”
“I beg to differ.”
She kicked her legs slowly, like she was on a swing. “You’re running your dad’s company. Living in the city. Taking the world by storm. You’ve got everything you always wanted.”
He laughed softly. It didn’t matter what he thought about his life or his job. No one gave a damn, as long as he handed them their paychecks on time. “Yeah, I guess I am, huh? How about you? You’ve got the job. The apartment. The car. The degree. All you’re missing is the husband and three kids you wanted. Two boys and a little girl, if I recall correctly?”
She chuckled. “You remember all that?”
“Of course I do.” He remembered everything about her. Not that he’d tell her that. “I was listening all those nights we lay out here, watching the sky. So, who is he? Do you have a boyfriend? Someone who might make those dreams come true? Another Ivy Leaguer that you met at school, perhaps?”
If so, you better hide him from your brothers.
“Nah, no boyfriend.” She stared off into the distance. “But, really, those were the dreams of a kid, not an adult. There’s a lot of things I wanted back then that I’ll never get, so if I don’t get my three kids…then that’s okay.”
He swallowed hard. Somehow, he had a feeling she was talking about him. She couldn’t really still have her heart set on him, could she? Hell, they hadn’t even seen each other in years. Her childhood crush had to be dead by now…right? And if it wasn’t, what the hell was he supposed to do about that? The two of them would never work.
He’d never love her like she deserved.
He lifted a shoulder. “You never know. You might get all the things you want. Time has a weird way of working things out in the end.”
“I doubt it. Some things just aren’t meant to be.”
“Maybe so,” he agreed, switching his weight to his other foot.
She looked up at the sky again. “Look at what you’ve done with your life. How far you’ve come. You should be proud. Your parents would have been, too, I’m sure.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and approached her. His throat inexplicably tightened. Would they have been proud of the man he’d become? He didn’t know, because he didn’t know them. “I haven’t come all that far. Here I am, sitting in your garden with you again, just like I used to.”