He gently lifted my chin and brushed his lips over mine. “Ember, I adore the way you apologize.”

Crap. Was the man’s voice directly linked to the throbbing between my freaking thighs? I called on every ounce of strength I possessed and stepped back from him. I didn’t miss the appraising stares we were getting from the other kids on campus.

“Nothing has changed, Josh.” I had to repeat that enough so I’d believe it. “You’re . . . you, all Josh-y and perfect . . . now, but I know it’s just a matter of time . . .”

The muscle in his jaw flexed. “A matter of time until what?”

“You know.” I glanced around us, keeping my voice low.

“No, Ember, I’m afraid I don’t.” He raised his voice, uncaring of prying eyes.

On cue, Tweedledum waved as she walked by, giving her ass a deliberate sway. “Hiya, Josh. Maybe I can see you later?”

His eyes didn’t stray from mine. “Not a good time, Heather.”

I pointed to her back as she shimmied away. “Right there. You know girls will always be lined up for you, and it’s not like you to turn them down. I’m me . . . and you’re . . . you, and it’s only a matter of time until you realize the chase isn’t as fun when the rabbit is caught. Especially when the rabbit isn’t exactly all put together.”

He clenched and unclenched his teeth until he took a deep breath. “Listen up. Forget whatever it is you think is ‘like me.’ I haven’t so much as touched another girl since that night in Breckenridge. And it’s not because they’re not asking. It’s because they’re not you.” He raked his hands through his hair, tugging on the strands. “Have some faith!”

“Faith gets you screwed over, Josh, and Riley wasn’t even a quarter as sought after as you are. You’re Josh-freaking-Walker!”

“And you’re December-freaking-Howard, and you happen to be the only girl I’m interested in. I’m not Riley! When I make a choice, that’s it. I don’t back down. I didn’t get where I am in hockey or school by backing down, and I choose you.”

“I’m nowhere near ready to be anyone’s choice.” Not ready to risk my heart.

His eyes narrowed, but he let my jab slip. “One day you will be, and I’ll still be here, no matter how hard you push me away.” With a sigh, he turned to leave.

“Why?” I called after him. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked back, his knuckles white with restraint on his bag. “Because I’m masochistic enough to care about you, and someone has to, Ember.” All hint of teasing was gone.

I stopped at the university gym and ran six miles, trying to outpace everything that seemed to be chasing me. I lost myself in my iPod and the rhythm of my feet against the treadmill, refusing to think of anything but my breathing.

I needed a plan. I needed to know what the heck I was doing.

Once I made it home, showered, dried, and dressed, I unpacked my bag.

Dad’s letter slipped out onto my desk.

I picked it up and sat on the bed, tracing my finger over his curt scroll. I wanted to crawl inside the moment he’d penned my name, as if there was a way to reach out and touch him through the ink. I lifted the envelope to my nose, seeking some trace of him, some proof he’d really held this. No such luck; it smelled like plain paper.

The envelope was crisp and white, not like the ones that had been through the overseas mail system to make it to us. This letter had never seen the outside of his book. When had he written it? Which deployment was this penned for? Did he always write one? I stared at the sealed envelope.

Dad, did you know you were going to die?

“Ember? You here?” Sam’s voice rang out from the entry, accompanied by the sounds of her book bag hitting the floor.

“Yeah.” I stashed the envelope on the top of my bookshelf, between a picture of Gus and one taken during our last trip to Breckenridge. Time to act normal.

“Awesome, because Kappa Omega is having a party on Friday and we scored an invite!” She waved the golden envelope in the air like a trophy.

“No way. Frat boys are the ones who screw your roommate when you’re not looking.”

“Promise? I’d love to get a piece of some Kappa Omega boys.” She breezed past me into my room and flung open the doors of my closet, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Girl. You know you’re twenty, right?” She pulled out a ribbed turtleneck. “Twenty, not forty-five.”

I grabbed it out of her hands. “Hey, that’s Ann Taylor!”

“That’s ancient librarian.” She grabbed my modest neckline and yanked it lower, exposing a crazy amount of cleavage for ten a.m. “Whip out the girls, because we’re finding you a rebound. If you won’t jump Josh,” she muttered, “because you’re insane, then we’ll find you a hot little frat boy.”

Josh was off limits. I wasn’t bringing him into the shit-fest my head was at the moment, but I couldn’t see myself hooking up with some random guy either. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

Sam was already pulling me through our apartment into her room. She opened her closet and started throwing clothes into my arms. “This is a brilliant idea. Hey, put that phone away! What are you doing? We’re planning your social debut here!”

I ignored her and dialed Mom’s cell. It was Monday, and I had to check up. “Hey, Mom?”