1
EMMA
My lungs are on fire, my body aching with every step forward, and all I want to do is collapse into a puddle of nothing but sweat and death on the ground. Every breath I pull in feels like sweet agony, but I don’t stop.
I can’t stop.
Anyone who ever says they actually like running is a liar.
No one can possibly like this garbage feeling of death.
Still, I push myself harder and harder with every passing second. Not because I like it, but because running is the only way I’ll be able to reach my goals.
Running is the only way I can make my dead brother Danny proud… you know, from his cushy life beyond the grave.
I bet ghosts don’t have to run.
“Tacos,” I wheeze when I finally cross the finish line and collapse next to my best friend. “Someone needs to get me tacos. Maybe tequila with salt and a lime to bring me back from death, but I’ll settle for tacos.”
Kennedy sits there on the grass in the middle of the track at Birch Harbor High School with a stopwatch that she’s supposed to be using to time my laps, snoring. Her red hair covers her face and her arms hold the watch against her chest. She doesn’t have a care in the world while I’m practically dying.
“Are you kidding me?” I kick her leg from my place next to her, and she snorts in response. “Come on, Kennedy. I needed you to time me. The stupid physical fitness standards are ridiculous.”
She opens one eye and glares at me the way only she can, shoving her hair out of the way. “I’m going to kill you,” she mutters. “I was timing you. Until the last lap because you slowed way down and Nox could walk faster than you were moving.” She throws the stopwatch at me. “Now, let me go back to sleep.”
“But I want tacos,” I whine pathetically. “Can’t you sleep later? You know, when you’re home alone for the night because your stupid fiancé has to work? After we eat tacos.”
That gets her up. There are very few things in life that Kennedy will pass up, and tacos isn’t one of them.
“Fine, but we’re not going to Lucy’s. I want real tacos.”
That’s how we find ourselves all the way out at Alta’s Takeout, halfway to the island and an hour from Birch Harbor. But that drive is how we get the best tacos in the entire world. Alta’s place is the absolute best in the county, and maybe even the entire state, probably the entire Northeast, and she knows it. The older woman steps out from behind the counter, and I can’t help wanting to hug her. She can’t be more than five feet tall, and she has the type of curves that pinup models had in the fifties. Her black hair has silver streaks in it, and she’s just so stunning for someone my mom’s age that I can’t believe she has four kids.
“Alta,” I groan around one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever had. “I don’t know how you do it. But you make the best meat I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
Alta laughs, and Kennedy snorts from her seat across from me. I don’t care. They both know what I meant to say; it’s not my fault that running makes me crazy.
When I open my mouth to tell Kennedy to suck on a potato, she isn’t even looking at me. Instead, she’s staring over my shoulder with wide eyes, and my face flames as I realize we aren’t alone.
“Emma Hayes.” Alta claps her hands together, momentarily distracting me from the fact that I’m about to be embarrassed. “You kill me, niña. Dominic, why can’t you find a girl like Emma?”
I turn to see none other than Dominic Ortiz, Alta’s son, and the man who stars in every single one of my fantasies standing there with a strange look on his face while he watches me shove the last bit of one of my tacos into my mouth.
See, I don’t care how uncomfortable I get, there’s no chance I’m gonna give up the tacos that are on my plate. Even if I’m saying the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard come out of my mouth.
When he sees me staring, I swear I see him bite his lip before answering his mother. “Lo siento, Mama. There’s no woman out there like Emma.” His eyes lock on mine, and I can’t help the blush that creeps up my neck and into my cheeks.
How does he always know exactly what to say to make my panties melt without even trying?
“Damn straight,” I say with a nod, then I turn back to my plate. But I feel his gaze on me the entire time. And when he clears his throat and I dare to look up, we lock eyes again. I see the same desire there that I saw the night of Parker and Remy’s wedding.
Right before he vanished into thin air without so much as a kiss between the two of us.
Although, in the pale light of the hangover I had the next morning, it was more than clear that Dom isn’t the man for me. Not only is he a friend of my brother’s, but they served together overseas, and they work together at Birch Police Department. The last thing I need in my life is another controlling man, or another cop for that matter.
Knowing the truth and the harsh reality doesn’t mean I won’t continue to check him out every single chance I get.
A piece of potato hits the side of my face, and I look up to see Kennedy staring at me with huge eyes. “What the fuck was that?” She pops another fried potato into her mouth and glares when I don’t immediately give her an answer.