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her mind. Her breathing hitched. No way would she stay in a place with no light. “Um…”
    “Oops. Someone forgot to open the blinds after they cleaned.” Felicia’s voice drifted as if she walked into a tunnel.
    Dark places scared Lyse. If it hadn’t been for Coop… She shook her head. No, she wouldn’t go there. Wouldn’t revisit the awful memory and wouldn’t think about how he comforted her after she went into the abandoned house to search for her kitten. Spiders, bugs, and wet things had crawled over her.
    The light clicked on.
    A puff of air escaped, and she steadied a hand on the wall.
    “There we go. Sorry,” Felicia said, taking in what she knew had to be her pale face and huge eyes. “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry.”
    Light streamed in. Felicia moved to another set of windows, undid the wooden mini blinds, and then pulled a string to roll up the shade above a door. “There. All better. What do you think?”
    The sun beaming into the room stopped her heart from pumping “oh shit” to her brain. She lowered her hand and examined the space, a large room with a sitting area, a bed, and a huge closet. A balcony stretched along the wall facing the street. She laid her garment bag across the bed and set her cosmetic case next to it, and noted her suitcase near the closet door. “What a great getaway. I like it,” she said tossing her sweater next to her things.
    “Groovy!” The girl clapped her hands together.
    The air of familiarity struck again. Right along with the high pitched “groovy,” but who was she?
    Felicia inched closer and placed a hand on her arm.
    The touch was far from ordinary. It held understanding, friendship.
    “I remember when you were locked in that room. When you searched for your kitten.”
    Her voice drifted, breaking a little, as if the girl underwent the experience with her, but she hadn’t. No one had. Only Coop… “How?”
    Footsteps pounded on the stairs. Not pounded per se, but the acoustics in the house echoed. She wanted the ruckus to stop in order to hear what Felicia had to say.
    “The other attic-guest has arrived.” Felicia gestured to the door across the hall. “Do you remember my brother?”
    Brother? She didn’t recognize Felicia, how could she remember her brother? She turned to the sound of someone stopping just outside the door.
    A man in his mid-twenties held onto the doorjamb above the door. He wore a gray shirt with Heathercream stitched on the right side of his chest, and tan pants, which hadn’t had the good fortune of seeing an iron. Casually dressed, almost to the point of being messy, yet he pulled it off. The same for his brown hair. It waved into a smooth half curl, rising a few inches off his forehead. A five-o’clock shadow covered his jaw and cheeks, causing her thoughts to travel to getting whisker burns in areas that hadn’t had them in ages.
    Somehow his disheveled look worked for him. His well-honed body stretching his shirt, the guy looked hot as hell.
    “Do you remember him?” Felicia asked again.
    The mouth, his stature, she’d seen a younger version. They must have gone to school together.
    She extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Lyse Haynes, and you are?”
    He studied her hand then locked eyes, holding her captive. The weight of his gaze went right through her. She gasped, and her hand flew to her chest without her permission.
    This guy—flat out sexy gorgeous—impossible…Yet…she swallowed, tried to regain her composure. The tenor, the slight accent, how could it be? He didn’t wear glasses. His clothes fit him perfectly, almost tailored.
    “Are we really just shaking hands?”
    His voice slid velvety heat over her every nerve ending. She knew she’d see Coop, would lay eyes on him, but never in her wildest dreams did she think she would react this way. “No,” she commanded her body who didn’t want to listen in a weak voice, but her mind climbed onboard. This man who was supposed to be her friend, thought what? He