He smiled and disappeared inside the truck. We watched as he drove away.

When he turned the corner and was gone, Jessica turned to me, her eyes sparkling with something like excitement. But about what?

“Come on.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the park.

“What’s going on?”

“I have something to show you.”

“I just heard that from your brother and I didn’t like it all that much.”

“Ouch.” Her eyes lost the happy shine.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “It’s just—”

“Shut up, Ryan. Don’t ruin this.”

I groaned, wanting to shout, to ask, what this was.

At the park, one of the two basketball courts was occupied. Eight guys ran around the court, fighting for the ball. The few lights posts were turned on, but soon it would be too dark to play.

In silence, we watched the game for a few moments. My patience was running out, and my frustration was building.

“So, what do you want to show me?”

“Don’t you recognize anyone playing?”

I turned my attention back to the court and searched the faces. It was hard since the guys wouldn’t stop running, and the lights from the posts created odd shadows over them. Then one guy—average height, but bulky, with short blond hair, and a limping leg—turned to us and smiled at Jessica.

My heart stopped.

No. No. No.

Eyes wide, I looked at Jessica. “What the hell?”

She smiled at me. “Isn’t it wonderful? He’s better.”

I snapped my head back to the court and watched as the guy stole the ball from another, and after a short run, passed the ball to another teammate. The teammate scored and they high-fived. In seconds, the ball was rolling again, and the guy raced after the ball as if he hadn’t been in a terrible accident almost four years ago.

After my bike smashed him, Brody Matthews had been bound to a wheelchair. Only two years older than me, he had lost the feeling and movement in his legs. Doctors told him, and me, that he probably would never walk again.

And here he was. Running with a slight limp right in front of my eyes.

“How?”

Jessica closed her second hand over mine, cradling my fingers. “He’ll tell you.”

I stole a glance at her. “Why and how did you find him?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to help you.” I pulled my hand from hers, but she held on tight. “No, hear me out,” she continued. “I don’t pity you, Ryan. I really don’t. I care about you, even if sometimes I hate you. And as any caring friend, I want to help you. When I left the site Sunday night, something nagged at me. I got home and searched online for news about the accident and I quickly found Brody’s name. I searched for him and found out he had moved from Charlotte to here to be closer to his doctor, the one that helped him with this miracle. I called him, told him how the guilt was eating you, and he agreed to meet us here.”

This time, I freed my hand from hers. “You’re unbelievable.” She told him the guilt was eating me? She had no right!

“Ryan …”

The game had stopped and Brody walked to us. The limp was barely noticeable then.

“Ryan Dawson,” he said, his voice flat, just like the expression on his face. “I never thought I would see you again.”

“Likewise,” I said.

“Hi, Brody.” Jessica stepped in. “I’m Jessica.”

“Hello, Jessica, nice to meet you.” He shook her hand, his expression a little softer.

“Thanks for letting us come,” she said.

He nodded. I stared at him, totally at a loss for words. I had so many questions, so many doubts, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome to ask anything. After all, the guy probably hated me.

“I heard you spent quite some time in jail.” Brody broke the silence. “And you are now on parole.”

I nodded. “Parole and community service.”

“For how long?”

“Just three more months,” I said. “Man, I … I …” I didn’t know what to say. How to say it.

“It wasn’t easy, you know. I heard from several doctors that I would probably never walk again. A few told me, I might be able to stand and shuffle with a walker, if I worked hard. They might have mentioned a miracle too, but I was too deep in hatred then. I shrank into myself for months. The only thing I did was sit on the couch and eat. That, and snap at my family. I seriously thought my girlfriend, Diana, would leave me and my parents would send me away to one of those boarding-like clinics. Until one day, when Diana came home and showed me a documentary of a guy who had lost his legs in Iraq. He never gave up. He found a way to pull himself around the house, to do all the normal things a person does. Of course, he couldn’t go to work or ride a bike or run anymore. But if he could adapt, if he could evolve, so could I, you know. I found Dr. Morse here in Columbia. He loves challenges and he took me on right away. Shortly after I started working with him, I was standing. It took me only a couple of months to walk, and a couple more to run. A true miracle with a large side of hard work.”

“That’s wonderful,” Jess said.

“Yeah, I think so too. The hatred is gone. And hopefully, soon, this limp will be gone too.”

The guilt and shame overwhelmed me, and I blurted, “I’m so sorry, man. I know I said it before, though you didn’t want to hear it at the time, but I am. I’m truly sorry.”

Brody nodded. “I know.” He gestured to his legs. “And as you can see, I’m okay now. Not a hundred percent yet, but I’m getting there.”

“I’m glad.”

The guys on the court called him.

“I’m coming,” he shouted back. “I should get back to the game.” He patted me on the arm. “Just so you know, I forgave you a long time ago. I hope now you can forgive yourself.”

He strutted to the court and the game resumed.

I stared for a moment longer, not believing what had happened. I was afraid that if I moved, I would wake up in my bed and all this would have been a dream.

Jessica rested her hand on my back.

A new feeling exploded in my chest. Reason would tell me to suppress it, to ignore it, to shut it down, but reason was the last thing I was listening to now.

I turned to Jessica, wrapped my arms around her, pulled her to me, and crashed my mouth on hers. She didn’t resist. She didn’t fight back. Her lips parted, giving me access, and her arms wound around my neck. I kissed her slowly, savoring her taste, how well her mouth melded with mine, how her body seemed made to fit mine. Desire ran through my veins and I deepened the kiss, drawing a moan from her. Fuck, I had forgotten. I had forgotten how I could drown in her kisses, how I could immerse myself in her scent, in her touch. I had forgotten the good she did me, how she made me want to be a better man.

Wanting more of her, I slipped my hand under her top, eager to feel her skin.

Jessica jumped back. She stared at me, her eyes wide.

“Jess.” I sighed. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Just take me home,” she said.

She marched to my car and I followed. Fuck, what had I done? All the progress we had made, all the damn closure she wanted, all down the drain because I couldn’t control myself with her.

The twenty-five-minute drive back to Lexington was tenser than the ride with Jason. I peeked at her a few times, but she was staring out the window, lost in thought. Probably hating me for kissing her when she was taken. Damn, she had a boyfriend. I might want to tattoo that on my forehead so I wouldn’t forget anymore.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I stopped the car in front of her house. Immediately, she opened the door and stepped out. But before she could get completely out, I closed my hand around her wrist.

“Jess …” She glanced at me over shoulder, her eyes gleaming with wariness. Shit. “Thank you. For contacting Brody and taking me to see him.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered.

Reluctantly, I let go of her arm and she exited the car. She rushed to the front door and didn’t look back once as she unlocked the door and entered her house.