Page 87 of Make It Last

“Forget about her,” Madison added. “And no matter what happens with you and Tanner, you do not need to worry about him cheating. He is not that guy.”

“I know,” I said quietly. I did know, but knowing something and feeling secure about myself were two very different things.

The thought of his ex trying to reclaim him felt like bees buzzing inside my chest. Doubt buzzing loud and insistent. When we were getting ready to leave, I made my way carefully to the bathroom. Walking still felt miraculous.

I finished up and was washing my hands when the stall door opened behind me. My eyes landed on Laney. She was very pretty and polished, a little glamorous in a way I could never pull off.

She caught my eye in the mirror and smiled brightly. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” I replied evenly.

“You’re Ava, right?” I nodded. “I heard you and Tanner were seeing each other.”

Were? Past tense, interesting choice. I made a noncommittal sound.

“Well,” she continued, fluffing her hair lightly, “I’m moving back, so I hope we can be friends.”

I turned slowly to face her. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Tanner and I were engaged,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “High school sweethearts and all.”

“But you broke up,” I said. The second the words left my mouth, I realized I had revealed my own insecurity.

Her lips curved faintly. “We did. But I’m hoping we’ll have another chance. He’s thinking about it.”

Something inside me snapped. I straightened my shoulders and reached calmly for a paper towel. “You called him beige,” I said flatly as I dried my hands. “You told him he was boring.” Her mouth fell open, and her cheeks flushed pink. “I don’t think we’re going to be friends, Laney.”

I held her gaze for one steady beat before I walked out. The bees were still buzzing inside my chest, but at least she hadn’t seen me flinch.

Chapter Forty-One

Tanner

You can’t go back

“How are you doing over there?” Hudson asked.

I glanced his way and shrugged my uninjured shoulder. “I’m fine. It’s nothing dramatic.”

That was mostly true. I’d managed to gash my shoulder and forearm and painfully jam the same shoulder in the process. It was already loosening up, though. Such was life as a hotshot firefighter. In the nearly decade I’d been doing this, I’d only had two injuries that required stitches and not a single broken bone. A few tiny burns from spark scatter and plenty of bruises. All in all, I was one of the lucky ones.

Hudson flashed a grin. “Scars are sexy. Or at least that’s what Stella tells me.”

I snorted. “Does she now?”

“She does. I don’t even have that many.”

“Are you motivated to get more?” I asked dryly.

Hudson rolled his eyes. “No. I get impatient with injuries.”

“Same.” I lifted my forearm and examined the butterfly bandages Graham had expertly applied. “This one’s going to get me dragged to the walk-in clinic when we get back to Willow Brook.”

Hudson chuckled. “Protocol.”

I was already impatient for the helicopter to arrive and impatient to get home. The sole reason for my impatience: Ava.

“Won’t be long,” Parker called from across the clearing where we waited for pickup. “We’ll get home. And you can see your girl.” Parker waggled his brows.