Page 2 of The Bridges I've Burned

I was eighteen, at last.

Grabbing my brother’s scattered letters off my bed, I shoved them into my guitar bag and took one last look around my room.

And then I made myself a promise.

I would never step foot in Ocracoke again.

CHAPTER ONE

It was Wednesday night. I was on my second blind date of the week, and I was having a serious case of déjà vu.

The guy sitting across from me looked eerily familiar.

But the recognition seemed to be fairly one-sided because as I sat there, scrutinizing his short brown hair and hazelnut eyes, he simply stared back at me with nothing more than a polite smile.

Weird.

Maybe he just has one of those faces.

This had been a setup between coworkers, so when I’d said “blind,” I’d meant it. No dating app pics to go by. No profile to scrutinize. I usually despised this sort of thing, but after the streak of bad luck I’d had, I figured, how bad could it be?

I should have known not to throw that question out to the universe.

“Have you lived in Richmond long, Elena?” the mystery man asked.

“Since high school,” I answered, trying not to stare too overtly at him.

But seriously, was he famous? A local weatherman maybe?

When I’d first walked into the upscale restaurant, the recognition had been so strong that I thought maybe he was an old coworker or friend.

Come to find out he was actually my date.

Awkward.

Last month, I’d run into an old classmate in the grocery store. Strapped with a baby on her hip, that woman pulled me into a rib-splitting hug and talked my ear off for a solid fifteen minutes about how excited she was to finally reconnect after all these years.

I should have received an Oscar for my performance that day. I still had no idea what her name was.

But this? This was so much worse.

“Really?” he answered. “And you never thought about leaving? Spreading your wings?”

“I went to school in North Carolina. Undergrad and law school. I didn’t actually plan on coming back here, but when you get a good job offer…” I shrugged my shoulders, causing him to laugh.

A woman at the table next to us turned her head, checking him out.

I did the same, and I had to admit, with his sharp jaw and easy smile, he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Maybe I should just focus on that.

“That’s what brought me here, too,” he admitted. “Although I do enjoy living in the city.”

I nodded in agreement, although I couldn’t remember the last time I had done anything fun in the city that didn’t have to do with work or meeting underwhelming men on dates.

“So, what do you do, John?” I asked, quickly changing the subject as I leaned forward.

His gaze lingered on the subtle cleavage I had going on. I’d gone with a V-neck blouse, designer jeans, and heels. It was a solid first-date option, and it was clearly working for him.

“I’m a professor,” he answered, swishing his wine around in his glass.

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