Page 19 of No More Secrets

True, but he’s sobering real fast.

“Your burger and fries will be soggy by the time you get there if they aren’t already. Eat here.” He doesn’t like the idea of her going back to the encampment. Maybe he can talk her into camping out elsewhere. He takes out the order of large fries he saved if she came.

She glances over her shoulder, then eyes the curb beside him.

“Sit over there if you want.” He gestures at the curb across from them. “Just sit. I know you’re starving, you’ve got to be exhausted. You’ll be dead if you run another mile without eating.”

Shame flames her face. She dips her head and sits down, surprisingly only a few feet from him. Close enough for them to have a conversation. Far enough for her to bolt if he tries anything, which he won’t. He’s not one of those guys, never has been.

But he knows the type firsthand. The memories pollute his mind.

She starts with the cheeseburger. Lily would have, too. And the nostalgia of it collides into him. He looks at the ground by his feet and waits until she’s finished and starts unwrapping the hamburger before he asks through a constricted throat, “What’s your name?”

“Why’d you call me Sunshine Girl?” she says around a mouth full of food.

He frowns. He had?

“When I first got here. That’s what you called me.”

He shrugs. The hell if he knows. “Cause you looked sad when I first saw you?”

“That’s weird.”

“You’re filthy.”

“Piss off, Millennial.”

He lowers his head, runs his hand up his nape and into his hair. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Bullshit.”

Her face scrunches up. “Whatever.” She bites into the burger.

“What’s your name? Yourrealname.”

“Hannah.”

His eyes narrow. Liar. Doesn’t know how he knows. Just that he does. He lets it pass.

“I’m Lucas. Call me Luc if you want.” His sisters do.

“Like Skywalker?”

“What? No. Luc with aC.L-U-C, that’s it. Where you from,Hannah?” he asks sarcastically because he knows the name she gave him is a load of crap. “How oldareyou?”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-three.”

“My mom’s thirty-three. Or, she was.”

He looks her over, feeling an ache over her loss. “When did she die?”

She ducks her head, bites into the burger.

“What about your dad?”

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