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  “You should stay here with us for the time being,” Quinn said. “Until you decide what to do next.”

  “Oh no, no,” Sarah protested. “I really couldn’t. You’re—”

  “For fuck’s sake, Storm!” Corrie cut her off. “Stay. We have a guest room. It’s no trouble.”

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “I think she’s trying to tell you that we’d really like to help.”

  At that moment, a black cat trotted briskly into the room, paused to inspect Frog’s tail, sneezed, and proceeded to jump into Sarah’s lap. The feline meowed once before curling up on her thighs and beginning to purr.

  “Why, hello there,” Sarah said, trailing one finger along the line of white that ran from the cat’s left ear, down past her neck. “You’re a friendly one.”

  “See?” said Corrie. “Rogue clearly wants you to stick around. No more objections, ’kay?”

  Rogue squinted up at her happily when Sarah scratched under her chin. “Okay,” she said. A sudden sense of peace washed over her—unexpected and so very welcome. “All right. Thank you.”

  *

  Sarah looked down at the silver cell phone lying in her palm, its cover scratched and battered from being accidentally dropped, kicked, and occasionally even drop-kicked. It had survived all that abuse for years. Now, it was suddenly useless—canceled by her parents. They had worked fast. When she’d tried to call Yale at precisely nine o’clock in the morning, she’d heard instead a mechanical voice informing her that her phone was no longer in service. Disconnected.

  Corrie had sworn like the sailor she was before handing Sarah the portable, and she’d refused to hear a word about being paid back for the long-distance call. After over an hour of conversation, all Sarah was certain about was that she wasn’t going back to Yale next year. They’d been very kind, of course. The two deans with whom she’d spoken had talked to her in soft, compassionate, patient tones. They’d expressed their regret and their desire to help…and they had all given her the same advice. Take a year off. Work. Apply for loans and scholarships. Write a letter to the financial aid office. Get your feet back under you. And then come back.

  “You’ll still have a place here,” one had said. “But there’s nothing that financial aid can do on such short notice, with less than a month until the semester begins.”

  She pressed down with her right foot to open Corrie’s trash can and turned her hand over, letting her useless cell slide off her palm and into the garbage.

  “What’s the word?” Corrie asked from behind her. Sarah turned toward the voice and smiled faintly at the sight of her benefactress, poking her head through her own kitchen window as though she weren’t sure she was welcome inside her own house.

  “Not so good,” she managed.

  “Hang on.” Corrie let herself in through the sliding door and sat down on the love seat. Sarah took her by-now customary place on the couch. “Tell me.”

  “There’s not much to tell. Nothing they can do for me financially. I should take a year off, they said.” She looked over at Corrie and shook her head vehemently. “But that just feels so…so wrong to me. What if I take a year off and never manage to go back? And what am I going to do for a year anyway, without a degree?”

  Corrie frowned. “Well…what if you keep taking classes somewhere else, just to stay in the game? You’d only have to pay in-state tuition here at URI. And at least some of the credits will transfer, I bet, though you’d have to check.”

  “In-state tuition.” Sarah leaned forward, suddenly hopeful despite her best judgment. “How much would that be, do you think?”

  Corrie grabbed her laptop from the kitchen counter. “Dunno the exact number, but let’s find out.”

  A few minutes later, Sarah was regarding the computer screen dubiously. “I know it’s much, much less, but…it’s still a lot.” She turned to Corrie. “Besides, look—the transfer application had to be turned in months ago.”

  “Fuck that.” Corrie got to her feet and started pacing again. “I can’t guarantee anything, but this is my university, and I know people. If you want to do this, I’ll see what I can manage about getting your app considered.”

  Sarah looked up at her in awe. It was suddenly hard to swallow. “Corrie. Why are you doing all of this for me?”

  Instead of meeting her gaze, Corrie turned toward her deck and the view of the ocean beyond. “No matter what, I’d want to lend you a hand. But, Storm…” She turned back just enough for Sarah to be able to see her profile. “I can’t help but feel responsible.”

  Sarah blinked, struggling to keep her jaw from dropping. She never would have expected Corrie to invoke the memory of their one, brief encounter. “It would have happened without you, though,” she said. “I am…I am what I am.”

  “You’re family, is what you are,” Corrie said firmly. “Let me do what I can.”

  Sarah leaned back into the couch cushions and closed her burning eyes. Tears were threatening in earnest now, and she didn’t want to break down in front of Corrie. Tired. So damn tired. She rested one hand on the slight swell of her stomach, wishing that it would settle down. Am I going to feel this way forever?

  “Okay,” she whispered, battling the tightness in her throat. “If you really don’t mind. Thank you.”

  Chapter Two

  Three weeks later

  Sarah walked briskly out into the late afternoon sunlight, pausing to wave a quick good-bye to one of her coworkers at the Billington Cove Yacht Club. While waitressing at the marina’s clubhouse wasn’t her dream job by far, it was steady work and the tips were good. I’ll need to find another job soon, though, she reminded herself. As the sailing season drew to a close, the club would drastically cut back on their staff. If she didn’t manage to land something else, she’d be unemployed by mid-October. Between tuition and housing payments, that just wasn’t an option.

  Sarah shoved her hands into the pockets of her cargo shorts and started down the sidewalk, heading back toward the bungalow. I’m not going to worry about it. Not today, anyway. When the ocean breeze ruffled her hair, she inhaled deeply and smiled.

  Today was a good day. How could it not be? Dar was coming down for a visit, and with Corrie and Quinn out of town for the weekend, they’d have the house to themselves. It would be their first time together in several months. God only knew when they’d be able to see each other again afterward. School was starting for them both next week. Sarah hunched her shoulders at the pang in her chest that always accompanied the thought of not returning to Yale. She was still in awe—and so very grateful—that Corrie had managed to find her a spot at URI for the fall. And it wasn’t as though the Kingston campus was far from New Haven—a two-hour drive at most. Sure, she wouldn’t be able to crash in Dar’s room whenever she wanted, but it wouldn’t be difficult to visit. We’ll make it work, somehow. We have to.

  She looked down at her watch and quickened her pace. Dar was probably on the road already, and Sarah wanted the chance to clean up around the house and take a shower before she arrived. Everything needed to be perfect.

  What would it be like, seeing her again? It had been almost three months since they had last seen each other, but Sarah’s palms could still remember how it felt to cup Dar’s face in her hands, and her lips still burned whenever she recalled their hungry kisses. This visit was long overdue. It didn’t feel right to be away from Dar—to not be able to show her, every day, just how deeply she cared. Last year at school, Sarah had been able to indulge that need as often as she wanted. Snacks when Dar was studying, roses on her pillow, love notes tucked into her textbooks…it had been so easy to prove her devotion.

  All summer, Sarah had been eagerly anticipating the day when life would return to normal—when she could do so much more than send text messages and virtual flower bouquets and love songs via iTunes. Now, what she had once considered “normal” was a pipe dream. The distance would remain. Somehow, she had to deal.

  Oh, quit whining, she told herself f
irmly. You’re going to see her today. No brooding!

  Sarah smiled as she remembered the intensity of their last reunion, after winter break. They had only been apart for a month that time, but it had felt like forever. She had stopped in her room just long enough to throw her bags onto the bed before sprinting across campus to Dar’s dormitory. Dar had opened the door as soon as she’d knocked, and they had stood still for a moment, just looking at each other. Sarah remembered feeling an all-consuming thirst for her—a desperate need to burn Dar’s image into her brain before she had finally closed the gap between them and kissed her with all the passion that had been pent up inside her throughout those long, hungry weeks.

  Dar had felt a little shaky after that kiss, she remembered. So Sarah had told her to sit down on the bed, and when she had…

  Sarah pulled off Dar’s shirt before dropping to her knees and wrapping her arms around Dar’s waist. She sighed deeply as she pillowed her head on Dar’s smooth, firm stomach.

  “Missed you so much. So damn much.” She pulled back just far enough to press light, sucking kisses along the arch of Dar’s rib cage, slowly moving up toward her breasts. When she circled one nipple with her tongue, Dar murmured her approval. Sarah wanted to devour her, consume her, but she held herself in check and swirled her tongue gently, the way Dar liked her to.

  When the need to taste Dar overwhelmed the urge to tease her, Sarah unzipped Dar’s jeans and pulled them down her toned legs. She paused briefly to push her tongue in and out of Dar’s navel, before moving down toward the triangle of blond hair between her legs. Dar’s stomach muscles quivered as she leaned back on her elbows. When Sarah urged Dar’s legs over her shoulders and gently parted Dar’s lips with both thumbs, she was rewarded with a low moan.

  “I love you,” Sarah whispered as she dipped her head to tease Dar’s opening. She savored the musky taste on her tongue—so familiar, so beloved. And then she licked slowly up, up and around Dar’s clit, loving the way Dar’s thighs trembled beneath her hands.

  “So good,” Dar whispered.

  Her fingers tangled in Sarah’s hair, sliding across her scalp. Sarah wanted to draw out their lovemaking—to bring Dar up so high and then keep her there forever—but it had been far too long. Her need to feel and hear Dar come eclipsed everything else, and she groaned softly against Dar’s wet, swollen skin as she gently sucked Dar’s clit into her mouth.

  “Ohmygod, Sarah.”

  Sarah fluttered her tongue, and soon Dar was gasping incoherently. She was close. Sarah lost herself in her lover’s passion, willing her lips to communicate the magnitude of her desire. Dar cried out as her entire body tensed…and then she was coming, and Sarah clung to her bucking hips, drinking her in.

  The gritty guitar chords of Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life” shattered Sarah’s daydream. Pulse racing from the memory, she dug her new cell phone—a prepaid model that she had to “top up” every month—out of her pocket. Dar.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” she said, smiling broadly. “Where are you? How’s the drive going? God, I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Hi,” Dar said. “About that…I’m still at home.”

  What? No! Sarah stopped in her tracks, heart pounding furiously. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay? Did your family—”

  “I’m fine. No worries. I just…I got off work late, and it’ll take a while to get down there, and I’m pretty tired right now.”

  Sarah felt a surge of relief so sharp that it made her dizzy. At least she’s okay. But then the import of Dar’s words registered, and anxiety returned. “So…what do you want to do?”

  Dar was silent for so long that Sarah took the phone away from her ear to make sure that the call was still live. It was.

  “Maybe this isn’t the best weekend for me to visit,” she said.

  “What?” Sarah exclaimed before she could help herself. “But—but this is the perfect chance for us. We can be together, without any distractions.” Please!

  “Look, Sarah, I just—”

  “What if I meet you halfway between here and there?” Sarah interrupted, her brain racing. “So you don’t have to drive as far? We could stay in a hotel tonight.” She forced out a laugh. “Nothing four-star, obviously, but I can afford one night in a Motel Six.” I need this. I need this so bad. Please.

  Another long pause. “I don’t really know what to say,” Dar said finally.

  Sarah frowned in confusion. Huh? She decided to try out another laugh. “Well, you should say yes, obviously.”

  “I can’t do this long-distance thing,” Dar blurted.

  The world shifted, sliding sideways as Sarah’s throat closed and her head spun and her heart thumped furiously. She tried to inhale, but couldn’t seem to take a deep breath. Her entire body felt as though it were shutting down. Oh no. No, no, no. No.

  “What do you mean?” she whispered.

  “Come on, Sarah. You’re there. I’m here. We each have our own lives now.”

  “But I’m not even that far away.” Sarah’s voice sounded tinny to her own ears. Say something, anything, anything to make her change her mind! “I…I could see you every weekend. I’ll drive up. You don’t ever have to—”

  “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  A rush of anger knifed through Sarah’s shock. The claustrophobia of her panic disappeared in its wake. “You don’t want to do this? Or you don’t want me?”

  “Both, I guess. I don’t know.” Dar exhaled heavily. “Look…I’m sorry about the timing, here. I know things are rough for you. But I think it’s better that we end this right now, before it gets messier.”

  Sarah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She felt as though she had suddenly crossed over into a deranged parallel universe. How could Dar be acting this way? How could she be this callous? After almost a year together, how could she just decide one day that she’d had enough?

  “We are not ending this. You are.” Maybe she was never in love with you, she realized. Maybe you were projecting your own feelings onto her.

  The anger coalesced in her gut. Had Dar really been pretending all this time? Tolerating Sarah as she waxed eloquent about the depth of her emotion, as she repeatedly brought Dar gifts like some kind of lovesick puppy? Barely putting up with her intensity instead of embracing it? I was a fool. Such a fool.

  “But how can you possibly think this will work?” Dar’s voice was shrill. “We live in totally different worlds now.”

  Sarah clenched her teeth against another white-hot burst of rage. “What? This is about me not coming back to Yale? About going to URI instead? Are you kidding me?”

  “Sarah,” Dar said. Her tone was condescending now—slow and soft and syrupy sweet. “I just don’t think—”

  “You’ve made it perfectly clear what you think.” Cold. She felt cold, suddenly. How had this happened so fast? How did I misjudge her so badly?

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.” The epiphany was liberating. Sarah took a deep breath, willing her voice to be strong and steady. “I have to go, Dar,” she said. “Good-bye.”

  As she jammed her thumb against the Off button, another wave of anger tinted her vision crimson. She barely reined in the impulse to hurl her phone against the street.

  “Goddammit!” she whispered, hands trembling at her sides. Hot tears spilled over onto her tingling cheeks. First her family turned their backs on her, then Dar. Why? What the hell is wrong with me?

  She stood still for a long time, staring at nothing through burning eyes. As the rage seeped slowly out of her, it left a pervasive numbness in its wake. I should have seen that coming, she thought dully. Should’ve known. Should’ve… But even if she’d realized that Dar was slipping away, what could she have done? I’m not what she wants anymore. I can’t be what she wants. Maybe I never was.

  Above her, the clouds flared orange as the sun sank farther toward the horizon. It was an exquisite summer sunset, but all she noticed was t
he dying of the light. I’m all alone, now—really and truly.

  Sarah continued toward the empty house. Sleep. All she wanted to do was sleep.

  Chapter Three

  One week later

  The late morning sunlight beat down on Aurora Song’s shoulders as she perched on the flatbed of her friend Matt’s truck and frowned at the huge box that held her television. She was worn out from a solid hour spent carting her belongings up to her dorm room. At this point, all she wanted to do was to curl up in one of her beanbag chairs, pop in a comfort movie—maybe Beauty and the Beast—and vegetate. Of course, she couldn’t follow through on that plan with her TV still in the damn truck. Fortunately, Matt had volunteered to go in search of help.

  Rory sighed and stretched her legs, wishing she had a bottle of water. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up to catch the slight breeze. Junior year. At the thought, Rory felt a twinge of nerves. Her course load wasn’t going to be easy. The documentary class she’d signed up for would demand that she create a full-length film, something she’d never done before. Short films she could do. Commercial-length pieces were easy by now. But a full-length documentary? The prospect was daunting.

  “Hey, Rory!” Matt’s high-pitched shout forced her eyes open. “Look who I found.”

  Rory turned, shielding her gaze from the sunlight. When she caught sight of Matt’s companion, she sucked in a sharp breath. Oh shit. Jeff Lee. Dismayed at her grimy jeans and sweat-stained T-shirt, she jumped down off the bed, quickly brushed off the seat of her pants, and curled a stray wisp of hair behind her left ear. I’m going to kill you, Matthew.

  “May I present your knight in shining armor, milady,” declared Matt with a flourish in Jeff’s direction.

  Jeff shrugged one shoulder, grinning slightly. He looked good in a pair of faded jeans and a tight black T-shirt. Hell, he looked good all the time.