I was smiling when I pulled out of the parking lot.

My phone dinged.

No sandboxes. Promise.

So what do you have in mind?

A car honked behind me and I pulled out onto the street. Corin’s text came a few seconds later.

Why don’t you come and find out?

My heart began to thump a little wildly in my chest.

Was Corin flirting with me? And why did that make me feel tongue-tied and jittery?

When I stopped at a red light, I sent back my own text. One that was completely honest. Words I felt in my bones.

I’d like nothing better.

—

“Here you go.” Corin handed me a Styrofoam cup. Having tea together was becoming our routine. I realized I liked having something that was “our thing.”

“We sure are spending a lot of time outside for a girl who hates being outdoors,” I commented, scalding my tongue with the hot beverage.

“I never said I hated being outdoors. I just don’t like it when it’s hot. Or cold. Or when it’s raining. And I’m not a big fan of snow. And wind really sucks—”

“And yet here we are,” I observed, grinning at her.

“I’m trying to step outside of my box a little bit. Give me some credit.”

“Oh, I’m totally giving you credit!” She had a way of making me smile like a total idiot without even trying.

We walked, side by side, up the wooden steps until we were standing in the middle of a pretty wooden bridge that arched over a rushing stream on Ash Street.

Corin had no way of knowing how important this particular place was to me.

As a kid, I had been obsessed with photography and had taken a hundred pictures of this very location.

And then after my cardiac arrest I had spent many a day here, trying to figure out how my life had gone so horribly wrong.

It was peaceful under the trees, the late afternoon light filtering through leafless branches. It was warm and I was happy to be outside without a coat. I hated winter. I didn’t like being stuck inside.

“So here we are. In the fresh air. What sort of crazy stuff did you have in mind?”

Corin leaned against the bridge railing and drank her tea. “I used to come here a lot when I was a teenager,” she remarked.

I was surprised by her statement. Startled by the connection of this bridge that I hadn’t realized we shared.

“Oh yeah?”

“Being here helped to clear my head. When inside I was screaming, just standing here, staring out at the stream, all that noise went quiet. And I could breathe. For just a few moments, I could forget…”

Her voice trailed off and I wanted to ask her what it helped her to forget. I wanted to know so much more about her.

I wanted to know everything.

She didn’t continue. She didn’t tell me anything else. She let her words die out and I was left wanting so much more.

But I knew by now that you didn’t push Corin. You had to wait. Be patient. Even if it sucked.

“I wish I had thought to bring my camera,” I said suddenly.

Corin gave me a small smile but didn’t comment.

“I used to take pictures of this bridge when I was younger.”

Corin looked up in surprise. “You did?” I nodded. “So you grew up around here.”

“Sure did.”

“Huh,” was all she said and turned her attention back to the stream.

We were quiet for a while. It wasn’t a weird, awkward silence. It was actually sort of nice. Even with Corin picking obsessively at her thumbnail and my trying not to be obvious as I stared at her.

“You have a camera on your phone,” Corin said after a while.

“Yeah, I do.” I frowned, not getting her point.

Corin sighed and looked exasperated. “You can take pictures with your phone, Beckett,” she said slowly, as if I needed help with comprehension.

I pulled out my phone and swiped the screen, finding the camera icon. “You’re right.” I grinned at her, holding my phone up and quickly taking a picture of her before she could protest.

“Hey!” Corin yelped, holding her hand up in front of her face. “I’m not the subject here!”

I looked down at the photograph I had just taken. Corin was looking directly at me, her mouth slightly open, the wind blowing her hair across her face. My breathing hitched a fraction.

“I don’t know, I think I’ve found the perfect muse.” I tried to sound teasing but the words came out more as a strangled whisper.

“Let me see,” Corin demanded, grabbing the phone from my hands. “Oh god, I look awful! How do you delete it?”

I quickly took the phone back. “No way, that one’s a keeper,” I told her. There was no way in hell I’d delete that picture.

“If you use it for blackmail later, I’ll have to do something really horrible and nasty to you,” she threatened without any real heat.

I quickly took another picture of her. Then another. “How are you going to stop me?” I asked, lifting the phone up over my head as she tried to pull it out of my hand.

“How about I push you into the stream, smart ass!” Corin pressed her body against my front as she craned up on her tiptoes in her attempts to grab the phone.

Then I wasn’t playing anymore. Because all I could focus on was the feel of her. Our faces were only inches apart, and while her eyes were trained above our heads on my outstretched arm, my eyes were glued to her face.

Her lips.

The tiny dimple at the corner of her mouth that peeked out when she tried not to smile.

The slope of her neck as she arched her back.

Then all feeling headed south.

I went very, very still. So as not to alert her to the sudden presence of my very noticeable hard-on.

Corin jumped and finally got the phone from my grasp. “Aha!” she shouted, finally looking at me and the pained expression I was sure she would see.

I knew the moment she realized how close we were. She tensed and started to move away.

Before I could think, I snaked my arm around her waist and held her in place. “Don’t,” I pleaded softly, holding her as close as she would allow.

And for a moment we stayed like that. Her dark brown eyes troubled and confused. We were both breathing heavily and I wanted to kiss her.

Quite possibly more than I had ever wanted anything in my entire life.

Just do it already. Stop being such a pussy!

But before I could act on my impulses, Corin wiggled out of my grasp and gave me a shaky smile. She held up the phone and took my picture. She looked at the screen.

“Payback,” she chuckled, handing it back to me and moving to the other side of the bridge. Purposefully away from me.

I looked at the photograph she had just taken. It wasn’t very flattering. I looked as though I was in pain. Which, I was. I discreetly adjusted myself and started thinking about a naked Betty White.

“I think I’ll stick to taking pictures of trees for now,” I conceded when it was safe to look at her again.

“Good idea. I’d hate to have to push you over,” Corin warned.

And then, just like that, our moment had passed. And I was more than a little disappointed.

The sky was clear and the dark branches of the trees stood out starkly against the deep blue. I took a few pictures and was pleased with the results.

Corin watched me take photo after photo, saying very little as I did my thing. It was amazing how easily I fell back into the headspace of a photographer. Looking for the right light and angle.

I realized quickly how much I had missed it.

“Okay, Ansel Adams, let me see what you’ve got there.” Corin held out her hand and I gave her the phone, watching as she scrolled through the pictures, not saying a thing.

Shit. What if they sucked? That would be embarrassing.

Corin finally looked at me and shook her head. “These are fantastic, Beckett. Why in the world did you ever stop taking pictures?”

I felt an immeasurable amount of pride at her compliment. For some reason, her opinion mattered more.