Page 12 of Easton

Whatever.

Shaking my head, I pull into my driveway.

And suddenly…fuck!

Some chick with chestnut-brown hair almost steps into my path.

Good thing I hit the brakes and skid to a stop.

The girl steps back in the nick of time.

Damn, that was close.

With my heart racing, I place the Rover in Park and jump out to see if this chick is all right.

That gray car must be hers. Maybe she’s a solicitor of some sort, or even someone from the real estate agency checking to see how I’m settling in.

And, fuck, I almost just ran her down.

Great.

This day is turning into a mess.

I rush around to the front of my vehicle, and the first thing my eyes are drawn to is how the girl’s hand is placed over her heart.

I’m sure this is to calm herself down, seeing as I almost took her out.

Man, I do feel bad.

Just as I’m about to see if she’s okay and apologize, I finally take a look at her face.

Holy shit!

Is it really her?

“Claire?” I say softly.

It is her.

This is not a dream.

Man, I can’t believe it.

She looks the same, just a little older. But hard as it is to believe, she’s even prettier, just like in her business profile photo.

Still, is this really happening?

Her hand is still over her heart, like it’s frozen there now.

But then she looks at me and says, “Oh my God. Easton.”

I think she’s as surprised to see me as I am to see her.

But I don’t know why. She is at my house, after all, which leads me to ask, “What are you doing here?”

Her face falls as she moves her hand from her chest and quickly crosses her arms in a protective stance.

I immediately feel awful.

---