Hiding my nervousness, I looked away as I said, “I’m from the valley, but we’re staying here all summer.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched as h is tanned feet stepped into a pair of board shorts and he pulled them up just as the towel fell away. “Which house?”

“The Johnsons’s.” I offered up the information freely, not pausing to consider whether it was safe to tell him.

“Cool. I live two doors down.” He pulled a black T-shirt over his head and tossed his wetsuit across his board.

My face lit up at the idea of having met a friend already. And the fact that he was a totally hot guy didn’t hurt either.

“What’s your name?”

“ Madison. My name’s Madison.”

“I’m Scott. I’ll see you around, Madison from the valley,” he shouted over his shoulder as he carried his surfboard away.

“Wanna stay and hang out?” I called out, hoping he’d stop walking and come back to me.

He stopped and turned around. “I can’t. My mom’s sick and I need to get home. Just wanted to catch some waves before she woke up.” Then he waved and turned to head home.

“Oh, okay. See you around.”

I didn’t realize at the time that his mom was terminally ill. Being so young, I’d just assumed he meant she had the flu, or something harmless like that. It never occurred to me to think otherwise. A typical teenage girl, I was naïve and unaware.

• • •

My throat parched, I reached for the water on the table and downed the entire glass.

“You have a thing with water.” Walker smirked, his eyes searching mine, and I wanted to climb across the table and hop into his lap. “I still write songs about that summer, you know.” He bit his lip and my mind suddenly filled with all the naughty things I could do to that lip. And all the naughty things I would do to it.

My overactive imagination snapped back to reality with a thud. “What did you just say? Which songs?”

A rosy color crept over his cheeks as he looked down at the crumpled napkin he held. “‘The One Who Got Away’ and ‘That Summer,’ obviously,” he said as he tore at the napkin, placing bits of crinkled paper around the table as his eyes avoided mine. “And then, ‘Where’d She Go and Disappear.’”

I almost choked on my water at the mention of the last song. I was obsessed with it when it came out, hitting repeat on my iPod constantly so I could hear the haunting lyrics and melody one more time.

She said good -bye that day

But I never knew she meant it

I always wanted her to stay

But the winds of change carried her away

Forever in my heart

That girl and I will never be far apart

But until we meet again

I’ll keep searching for her and then

My world will fall back into place

A moment in time I can never erase

It happened just like I feared

She went and disappeared

Disappeared

How do you go on when your love has

Disappeared

“I love that song the most,” I admitted.

His eyes met mine. “Which one?”

“‘Disappeared.’ It’s always been my favorite.”

His eyebrows rose and he laughed. “Well, it’s about you, so I guess that’s fitting. You never had any idea that the songs were about you?”

Teasingly, I slapped at his shoulder. “Walker! How could I ever think that? I didn’t even know who you were!”

Calling him Walker set me back for a moment. I’d gotten used to calling him that, but seeing him now, he was Scotty and he was Walker, all wrapped up in one delicious package. I would always have the memories of Scotty, but it was the man, Walker, that I was so incredibly attracted to, now that I could see him clearly for who he really was.

He shook his head at me. “But the lyrics, Madison, they’re so obvious. They’re filled with memories that only you and I shared. You never thought? Not even in the back of your mind?”

I shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I’ve always loved your music. But I never once thought that any of the songs were about me. Especially not with your reputation.”

He snorted. “I really need to clear up this whole bad-boy persona bit.”

I leaned over and smiled as I grabbed his hand. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

“You’ll help, right?” He tugged at my hand. “Say you’ll be in every paparazzi photograph with me from here on out. Anytime I’m with a girl, it will be you.”

I coughed and raised an eyebrow. So many things were happening at such a rushed pace. I longed to scream that I’d never leave his side again—that he could superglue us together for all I cared—but that thought alone scared the hell out of me. My lustful feelings for him terrified the logical side of me. The whole situation was surreal, and my head refused to wrap itself around the intensity that my heart pumped out. Was there a way to get both sides of me on the same page?

A thousand fears suddenly seemed at home inside my already flustered body. It was too much at once. Being here with him in this café, making plans for the future and thinking about the past; I thought I might lose it.

“Walker. I need to get out of here.”

“Let’s go.” He bumped his knees against the table and shot to his feet.

“I meant that I need to get out of here. Alone,” I said as my body stayed still in the booth.

“Alone?” Panic flashed across his face and my stomach dropped.

“Just let me process all of this, okay? My life has turned completely inside out in the last twenty-four hours, and I just need…” I shook my head. “I just need some time.”

“Away from me?” he asked. “I just fucking found you and you want to get rid of me already?”

“I’m not trying to get rid of you.”

Not really.

He reached for my hand before pulling us through the empty restaurant to the hostess stand. “Sorry,” he told her, “but we’re not staying. Can you let our waitress know?”

The hostess, clearly still flustered, smiled and nodded as she stared at Walker wide-eyed as he pushed the doors open and strode across the parking lot to my car.

“Don’t do this, Madison. Don’t push me away.”

I turned toward him and winced at seeing the pain so clearly etched between his furrowed brows. “Walker, please. I just need to be alone.” I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my palms against them.

Warm arms wrapped around me and I shook my head, my eyes still covered.

“Look at me,” he said, his tone soft and pleading.

I lowered my hands slowly and opened my eyes to watch his face as he struggled to find the words. Seeing the emotions that battled behind his eyes, I tried to pull away from his grip, but he only held me tighter.

“I don’t want you to go,” he admitted between labored breaths.

I sighed. “I know you don’t. But this is something I need to do. For me. I just need some time. Th-this”—I struggled to find my voice as well—“this is a lot for me to go through in one afternoon.”

He released me and paced in the small space between our cars, walking back and forth with his head in his hands. I watched him and waited. My need for space wasn’t meant to hurt or confuse him, but I needed to figure things out. He’d had more than ten minutes to process seeing me, knowing who I was and putting all that information together. I needed the same courtesy.

In the span of a few hours I’d quit my job, and then found out that Walker Rhodes was Scotty, the first boy I’d ever loved. I was abruptly unemployed, thrust into past memories that haunted me, and I wasn’t sure which freaked me out more.

Walker stopped pacing and leaned his body next to mine, our shoulders touching. The feeling I experienced at his closeness underscored the complete conflict of my emotions—how I wanted his hands all over me, yet at the same time needed to be as far away from them as possible. My heart stitched itself back together in his presence, as my head fell apart in jigsaw-puzzle pieces. How could two instincts inside one body be at such complete odds with each other?