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I can also recall the time when I was sixteen and had just gotten my car and license. Just like any other teen, it was one of the most exciting times of my life—that is until I blew my tire going into the second week of driving.

I was stranded on the freeway, and it was freezing that day. As I shivered inside my coupe with my cellphone glued to my ear, I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because my dad wasn't home and Mom wasn't answering her phone. Neither were there to help me, so with heavy tears, I called the one person I knew was always around and also happened to specialize in cars.

Mr. Black. He answered, and after I sobbed into the phone, he told me to calm down. I mean, maybe I was being a bit dramatic, but only because it'd never happened to me and I hated the feeling of being stranded. Between sniffles and tears, a small glimmer of relief ignited as he told me he was on the way.

When he pulled up in the Tahoe, I felt my heart swell in my chest. He parked the truck and walked to my car. I sat in the driver’s seat, and he tapped my window with his gloved knuckles, a faint smile playing on his lips as his head moved sideways.

His smile was comforting and silently whispered so many things, the main one being that everything was going to be okay and blowing a tire happened to people all the time. His smile gave me the reassurance I needed and the safety I longed for. He never failed to let me know that if I ever needed anything, he was only a phone call away.

Unlike my parents, Mr. Black made sure I was taken care of for the most part. However, I never considered him a parent. To me, he was a really, really great friend.

He opened my door as cars sped by, reaching beside my leg to pop my trunk. "Come on," he said, pulling away and going for the back.

Confused, I climbed out of the car and followed him, watching as he pulled out my spare tire. Propping it on the side of my car, he jogged to his truck and took out a wrench and a case of something, and then he came back in a quick pace, bending down to check out my tire.

"Can't blame yourself for this, Little Knight. Looks like this thing was about to give out way before you ever got the chance to drive it."

"Really?" I asked.

He gestured for me to bend down with him, and I did. "Yep. See that?” He pointed at a jagged piece on the tire. “The tear started right there. Something most likely stressed the rubber. Alright, come on," he grunted as he pushed the tire aside and picked up the wrench. "I'm gonna show you how to change a tire so we can make sure you're never left stranded again."

I nodded, but tears still hung at the edges of my eyes. Mr. Black took notice and sighed, reaching forward to cap my shoulders. Laughing, most likely at my overreaction, he said, "It's alright, Chloe. I'm here. Your car will be fine." Then he flashed me a crooked smile, one that made my heartbeat quicken.

"I feel stupid," I muttered as he used the wrench to unscrew the bolts.

"Don't worry. You'll live. Besides," he shrugged one shoulder, glancing my way, "I've been wanting an excuse to check out your car. A BMW? It's nice as hell, but what were your parents thinking giving you something this fancy for your first car?"

That made me laugh. I swiped my eyes. "I've always wanted one."

"Good taste, but I’d be damned if I ever gave Izzy something nicer than what I was driving."

I giggled at his remark and felt truly at ease as he laughed too.

Mr. Black did most of the work for me but told me to twist the wrench on the last bolt. Apparently, I was doing it wrong, not screwing it in enough, so without much thought, he reached over to help me. His hands wrapped around mine, and he held me in a sideways position, mixing in his strength to twist it. He made sure it was good and tight.

That day, I felt everything. I purposely smelled him, his scent making me want to curl into his chest on that lonely winter day and never move. And his arms, God, so large and welcoming. They were tight around me, tensing as he did one final spin around. The scruff along his jaw grazed my cheek, and my belly rolled, a fire replacing the chill I once endured. I could feel his body heat radiating, blending with mine, and for a split second, I considered us one.

I know he thought nothing of it because he was simply helping me, but I thought everything of the gesture. My heart danced in my chest, my mouth going dry, lacking full sentences as he told me how replacing a tire was supposed to be done.

That was the day I truly, honestly, fell hard for Mr. Black. That was the day he made me feel something I'd never felt before—a rush that was hard to describe. It was quick and sweet and whole. That rush made me lose all self-control, causing an ache within me when I realized he could never be mine and I shouldn't have wanted him to be anyway.

He was only helping, but I took his kindness as something more, falling and crushing hard on a married man. And he wasn't just any married man, he was a happily married man and the father to a girl I considered a sister to me.

So, I made sure my feelings for Mr. Black never showed and were never put on display. I slept on my love for him, burying it in a deep, safe place in my heart. I knew it would always linger and I would always feel my pulse go double speed when he was nearby, but my friendship was important, not only with Izzy, but with Mr. Black too.

In my mind, Mr. Black was a no-no. He was off limits. He wasn't mine. I could never have him. I wasn't even supposed to love him the way I did.

For the most part, I kept my feelings at bay, ignoring the racing of my heart, the fire, and the ache only his presence could conjure. It became manageable. I laid out restrictions for myself. I did it for his family. I did it for him. But most of all, I did it for Izzy.

Through the years, my set boundaries worked. I thought things between Izzy, Mr. Black, and me would remain perfect forever…

But then senior year happened.

Reality happened.

And it was far from gentle.

It hit the Blacks like a speeding monster-truck. It blind-sided them and even myself, ruining all happiness and blurring some of the bond I’d created with their family.

TWO

Every student knew that when the final bell rang on the last day of school, it was the official start of summer break. My fellow peers hollered, boasted, and laughed, tunneling through the exits of Bradshaw Academy and racing for their cars like wild bulls. Even the teachers smiled, their shoulders unstiffening and being replaced by a momentary touch of relief.

Izzy was eighteen, and due to starting school a year late, I was nineteen. We were excited to finally be done with high school, ready to tackle college. Sadly, we were going to different universities, but they were only two hours apart, so we planned on seeing each other often.

I drove home from school that day.

Before I could back out of my parking spot, Riley, my ex-boyfriend, banged his hands on the hood of my car with an annoying grin on his face. We gasped, our attention averting from each other to him, and I slammed on the brakes.

“What the fuck are you doing, dipshit!?” Izzy shouted, her upper half now through the sunroof.

Riley busted out in a laugh. I rolled my eyes, lowering my window. “Get out of the way!”

“Not until you answer my question from earlier!” Riley walked around the car and to my window. He bent down, placing his elbows on the top of the door.

“I already told you I would think about it.” I looked back at Izzy as she sat back down and folded her arms. “We have plans. Your little pool party doesn’t seem like much fun.”

“Oh yeah?” He flashed a crooked smile. It used to make me drool. I quickly got over it when I realized how much of a cocky jock he was. “And just what in the hell will you two be doing?”

“We’ll be celebrating the start of summer elsewhere.”

“Oh fuck. Don’t tell me you’re going to Joseph’s party instead of mine.”

“Well, his party doesn’t involve a ton of whores soaked in water. His will be inside, with more drinks and louder music. Joseph’s house is huge. No one will complain because he doesn’t have neighbors close by.”