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“Explain where I’ve been for almost fifteen years?” I smiled sweetly. “That’ll take a while, and this is a place of business.” I waved at the coffee shop full of people writing their screenplays and prenups.

“Give me the goddamn CliffsNotes, Haddie.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped back, my stomach lurching. “And let go of me.”

Haddie.

His little pet name for me. The nickname I’d loved. Oh, how I’d treasured it when he first called me that. I’d gone to sleep replaying it over and over in my head. I’d felt so special, knowing that he not only liked me but also wanted to have a name that only he called me.

Vomit.

I did not like the trip down memory lane Colton was forcing me to take. Especially since I was literally on Memory fucking Lane since the town council thought it would be cute to rename Main Street.

Though it wasn’t smart, I began considering using force to make him let me go. His hold on me was strong, warm, dry. He smelled like fabric softener, and his eyes blazed like ocean fire. I was getting desperate. No way did I want to have any kind of reunion with Colton, but especially not when I wasn’t caffeinated. Ideally, I’d be drunk for an interaction with him.

“Um, officer, I’m here to let you know you’re not supposed to commit police brutality in public places anymore,” a voice cut through our staring contest. “If you really want to do it, I suggest somewhere more private.”

Both our heads snapped to the owner of the voice.

I’d already known who it belonged to before I laid eyes on him, but I’d hoped I was having some kind of auditory hallucination.

Nope.

There he was. In the fucking flesh. Dante fucking Fields. Right there. In Dreadwood Falls. In the same coffee shop. At the same time as Colton.

I’d take a pack of rabid werewolves over this shit any day.

If I didn’t have a witch-type friend watching over me, I would’ve sworn that someone hexed me.

“It’s okay, officer. I’m sure she deserves it.” He held up his palms, speaking in that deep, rumbling voice of his, dark eyes playfully darting to me. “I just wouldn’t want to see another good old boy getting in trouble he doesn’t deserve.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone.

I pursed my lips. Though I really fucking hated Dante, I appreciated that he was interrupting this moment and giving Colton another place to channel his ire.

Colton released my arm, giving Dante his full attention. Likely, he was going to say something to him—not something polite, if the hardness of his jaw and the scowl on his face were anything to go by. Then again, I was technically responsible for the scowl.

Before Colton could go into cop mode and take over the situation, I stepped forward.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Dante?” I hissed.

Dante looked from me to Colton, a smug smile playing on his lips. And even though I hated him, I had to admit that he worked that fucking evil smirk well.

Standing so close together, it was impossible not to compare the two men. Colton and Dante were night and day. Colton was honorable, blond, clean-cut. Good.

Dante’s dark hair was loosely pulled back against the nape of his neck in a messy man bun that, unfortunately, looked great. His skin was alabaster, only accentuating his dark, heavy brows, his hazel eyes, and the dark stubble always present on his jaw. It was never thick enough to be described as a beard, but it wasn’t exactly a five o’clock shadow either. Tattoos worked their way up his neck, the black shocking against his pale skin.

The ink disappeared beneath the black tee he was wearing. The black tee that molded against his muscled torso. His heavy, silver belt buckle stood out against his black jeans. The designs on it were Celtic, the metal shining in the light of the café. It would’ve looked douchey on anyone else, but he pulled it off. His boots were loosely laced and steel capped. He topped the look off with a leather jacket and devil-may-care attitude.

“I hear the hiking is good this time of year.” Dante folded his arms, quirking his pierced brow.

I deepened my scowl as the fragrance of ground coffee beans filtered in the air, taunting me.

“Hike somewhere else,” I said through gritted teeth. “Like off Niagara Falls.”

His electric gaze went from me to the man I assumed was still behind me. “Nah,” he said easily. “Like the scenery here too much.” He pointedly looked me up and down, lingering on my chest area, which wasn’t even exposed since I was wearing a baggy tee.

Nonetheless, the gaze had me itching for a scalding-hot shower.

Heat pressed into my back. Colton had stepped forward. Close. Too fucking close. I tensed but held my ground. Moving away from him would put me closer to Dante, and it would be backing down in some way. Submitting. I did not submit. To anyone.