This was not a good idea.
Gena fidgeted with the hem of her blouse yet again, tugging it down and smoothing it over her flat stomach as she stood on the corner of Dylan’s street. She knew she looked good, but she wasn’t ready to walk down to the third house on the left and knock on his front door. Like she was some kind of high school girl. Like she was one of them. She’d left Delta for a reason.
Her feet refused to budge. They refused to turn around and carry her back home. They knew what that small voice in the back of her head knew, that there was something different about Dylan, something pure. A spark of sheer joy she’d witnessed in their run the night of his birthday. She hadn’t been entirely pleased that he’d tracked down her lair, but even then, when he’d looked at her like she w
