Fragile - M. Leighton

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FRAGILE

Kindle Edition Copyright 2012, M. Leighton Cover photo by Teresa Yeh www.shutterstock.com http://mleightonbooks.blogspot.com All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Her heart, as delicate as glass. His love, as strong as steel. Can either survive life and death? Hardy Bradford is an eighteen year old football phenomenon who has the girl, the school, the town and the future in the palm of his hand. His life is all mapped out for him, right down to who he’ll marry and how he’ll become a professional football player. It doesn't seem to matter that Hardy would’ve chosen a much different life if it was up to him. But it's not. At least not until his miracle comes along. The first time Hardy laid eyes on Miracle St. James, he didn’t know who she was, but he knew she was something different and that he’d never get her out of his head. And he didn’t. Now, months later, Hardy’s world is turned upside down when Miracle shows up in his class, stealing his heart and forever changing the course of his life. Miracle’s sick. Very sick. And Hardy might be losing the only thing in his life that has ever mattered. How much is too much to sacrifice for the one you love? For just a little more time? For just one more chance? Can Hardy be the hero Miracle needs? Or is it Hardy that needs saving?

CHAPTER ONE

May Hardy tried once more to block out the incessant giggling of the cheerleaders, but again, it proved impossible. Absently, he wondered how he’d been wrangled into bringing his girlfriend to a photo shoot, but then he remembered the tool of persuasion she’d used and he answered his own question. Just then, Cheyenne tossed a coy smile over her shoulder, her sparkling blue eyes meeting his for the briefest of moments before she turned her attention back to her cohorts. Hardy knew she’d done it partly to tease him and partly to make sure he was watching her. She was incredibly vain like that, something he’d struggled to tolerate for three long years. Although she was one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen, it never got any easier to endure Cheyenne and her abominable ego. Gritting his teeth, Hardy forced his lips to curve up into the fake smile he’d worn for going on six months, ever since he realized how ill-suited he and Cheyenne really were. Lately, he had to continually remind himself he could end things with her after his senior football season. Just a few more months, he thought. Until then, Hardy didn’t want to change anything and risk throwing off his game. His entire future was riding on his football scholarship to LSU, and never a day went by that his father didn’t remind him there was nothing more

important in life at this point. With that in mind, Hardy reassured himself that he could put up with her unparalleled beauty, her insatiable sex drive and her iron-clad ambition for one more year. “Is there any way you girls could perform one of your routines so I could get some good action shots?” the photographer asked, directing his question to Cheyenne. Hardy knew what her answer would be before she gave it. Cheyenne loved performing even more than she loved having her picture taken, which was a lot. “Of course,” Cheyenne answered, waving her hand dismissively, the gesture belying the excitement he knew she felt at having more eyes trained on her. Whether there were two people around or two hundred, nearly every eye within viewing distance of Cheyenne found their way to her. Not only was she the captain of the squad and the focal point of nearly every cheer and dance they performed, Cheyenne was also drop-dead gorgeous. She was always the center of attention and the majority of people were instantly fascinated by her. Hardy snickered inwardly. Most of them just didn’t know what she was really like. Hardy watched her hips sway inside her short skirt as Cheyenne made her way to the iPod docking station she’d brought. Her nimble fingers worked the lighted screen of her phone for a few seconds before she bent over and dropped it into the designated slot. She didn’t bother bending at the knees, happily displaying her “reddies” as she called them to Hardy where he sat in the grass behind her. When she straightened, she winked quickly in his direction before scampering back to the pack of vicious

she-wolves she called cheerleaders. Although his body twitched in response to the display, Hardy still couldn’t bring himself to sit through another of the routines he’d seen dozens of times already. Waiting for Cheyenne to glance once more in his direction, Hardy signaled to her that he’d be back and then moved quickly away. He couldn’t wait to escape the area cordoned off for the squad and head for the peace and quiet of the main park area. When he’d walked far enough that he could no longer hear the annoying thump of too-peppy music, Hardy slowed his pace and looked for a tree that he could lean against and enjoy some shade. Florida could be very warm in the winter, but the spring and summer? Sometimes “sweltering” didn’t even touch it. A huge oak near the outer edge of the park drew his eye and Hardy headed that way. The fact that it was near an empty bench only added to the appeal. Hardy’s above-average height of 6’3” necessitated that he duck beneath the low hanging branches of the tree, which he did, before turning to lean against the trunk. To his pleasant surprise, Hardy found himself basically obscured from view of the casual observer. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed against the bark, drawing into his lungs air that was at least ten degrees cooler. Hardy closed his eyes and let his head fall back, enjoying the distant sounds of dogs barking enthusiastically and children squealing excitedly. “How about here?” Hardy heard a small, high voice ask, presumably referring to the bench directly in front of the tree. He swallowed the growl of displeasure at the

unwanted intrusion upon his oasis. He could only hope that whoever it was would either move on to a more choice spot or keep quiet if they decided to light on his bench. Silence stretched on for so long, Hardy thought he was once more alone. But then an answering voice dashed his hopes. And piqued his interest. “It’s perfect,” the other voice—a softer, older voice— responded. Hardy’s eyes popped open at the sound, his only thought of what the face that went with that voice might look like. Unfortunately, his view was partially obscured. Moving his head this way and that, he could still only see bits and pieces of a feminine face that the shifting oak leaves revealed as they danced on the light breeze. “I love the smell of sunshine,” the voice said. Hardy thought that an odd thing to say, an odd observation to make, and he found himself even more curious to see what the owner of that voice looked like. Carefully, quietly, Hardy straightened away from the tree and moved his head, hoping to be able to see through a gap in the branches. The only sight his new position provided was the unobstructed view of a bright red balloon. “Why is it you want to let it go again?” the smaller of the two voices asked. After another short pause, the deeper voice answered. “I’ve just always wanted to see a balloon drift off into a cloudless sky.” “You’re so weird,” the child teased. “I know,” the older voice agreed, chuckling. More intrigued by the older girl with every word that was

spoken, Hardy dropped into a squat to look unabashedly at the bench in front of him. What he saw confused him. And enthralled him. Two tiny wisps of girls sat on the wrought iron seat. It was obvious by looking that one was much younger, surely not more than twelve or thirteen years old. The other one, though obviously older, was not much larger than the child. Beyond those simple observations, about her size and her age, Hardy didn’t give the younger girl a second glance. His gaze was riveted to the older one. He spared only a cursory glance at the ill-fitting jeans and too-thick sweater she wore, and the camera strap looped around her neck. He found her clothing odd considering the warm temperatures, but gave it no more thought than that once he saw her face. Porcelain skin covered the most delicately feminine features he’d ever seen. The sun had brought a flush of color to the pale expanse of her cheeks, painting them a shade lighter than the dark rose of her full lips. She was turned slightly away from him, so he couldn’t see her eyes very clearly, only her pert nose and the gentle curve of her chin. The shine of the smooth skin atop her head drew his eye momentarily, distracting him from the beauty of her face. Her scalp glistened in the sun and she made no move to conceal it. “I want one, Mommy! I want one!” The cry of the child came from somewhere to the left. Hardy’s eyes darted to a young boy and his mother for only an instant before returning to the girl. She drew his eye like the shore draws the ocean. Nothing seemed as interesting, as captivating, as important as the face of that

girl. The girl had turned in the boy’s direction, and from his peripheral vision Hardy could see the child dragging his mother forward, toward the bench, his short arm raised to point at the bright red balloon. “Where did you get that, sweetie?” the mother asked of the girl, her tone polite and gentle. “I brought it with me,” the girl answered, her voice like smooth, cool water. “Did you bring more? I want one,” the boy whined. “Gabe, shh! Don’t be rude.” “No, I didn’t,” the girl replied, her brow wrinkling in shared disappointment. “I’m sorry.” “It’s okay,” the boy said, his voice clearly indicating that it was anything but okay. “Come on, Gabe. We can get you a balloon another day. How about some ice cream?” the mother bribed. “I’ve already had ice cream,” he moaned. “And I’m the only one at the party that didn’t get a balloon. Why can’t I get one today?” The heartbreak in the boy’s voice was so evident, Hardy managed to drag his eyes away from the girl just long enough to glance at Gabe; his face was nothing short of crestfallen and his chin trembled with emotion. “Did you go to a party today?” the girl asked. The boy nodded. “But you didn’t get a balloon to take home?” He shook his head, one fat tear escaping to roll slowly down his rounded cheek. “Everyone else got one, but not me.” The girl slid off the end of the bench to kneel in front of

the little boy. Pulling off the ribbon that was tied around her wrist anchoring the balloon to her frail body, she held it out toward Gabe. When he didn’t immediately step forward, the girl nodded encouragingly and smiled. Hardy’s breath caught in his chest. He was completely mesmerized by the simple gesture. In the back of his mind, he was certain he’d never seen anything more beautiful, more perfect than her smile. “Here. Take mine. I can get another one,” she assured. “You don’t have to do that,” the mother offered, grabbing Gabe’s hand when he reached to take the ribbon from her grasp; he was anxious to get hold of the coveted balloon. “Please,” the girl said. “I want to. I want him to have it.” “Are you sure?” She nodded again, her smile never faltering. “I’m sure.” Thrilled, Gabe snatched the balloon from the girl’s hand, turning immediately to run excitedly toward an open expanse of grass to play with his new toy. “I’m sorry. He’s not usually that rude,” the mother explained, visibly embarrassed. “But thank you. Really,” she called behind her as she scurried off to catch up to her son. Hardy’s gaze dropped once more to the girl. She remained on her knees, her head turned toward the boy where he ran in wide circles, the red balloon bobbing in the air above his head. “Why did you give it to him?” the younger girl asked. “You’ve been talking about letting that balloon go for months.” Hardy saw the girl’s chest rise and fall on a sigh. “Because it made him smile, Mila. Look at him.”

The younger girl, Mila, turned her head to watch Gabe as he frolicked. “But still,” she argued. “No, no buts. He needed it more than I do.” Just then, a shrill voice broke into the strangely poignant beauty of the moment, shaking Hardy from his absorption. Reflexively, he looked to the left, in the same direction from whence Gabe and his mother had come, and he saw his girlfriend making her way across the grass to him. There was no more hiding from her. And he’d never wanted to hide more. “There you are!” Cheyenne exclaimed, picking up her pace and jogging toward him. Movement drew Hardy’s eye back to the girl who knelt but a few feet from him. She had turned to look at him, obviously surprised by his presence. He was immediately lost in the most incredible emerald green eyes he’d ever seen. They stared at one another for what seemed an eternity before Cheyenne intruded once more on the perfection of the moment. “We’re done. Are you ready?” The girl’s gaze swung toward Cheyenne before she rose to her feet and moved back to sit on the bench. Cheyenne glanced briefly at the duo, instantly dismissing them as unimportant. “Come on, babe. I’m hungry and we have to drop Elise off before we can go to The Depot.” Before he could think to stop himself, Hardy’s eyes flickered to the girl. He found her watching him with the most curious expression. If he hadn’t known better, he

might’ve thought it was pity. But why would she pity him? Cheyenne cleared her throat, drawing his attention back to her. There was a fair amount of agitation etched on her face when he was finally able to actually concentrate on her. “What? Are you suddenly into bald chicks or something?” Hardy could feel the blood rush up his neck and flood his cheeks. They burned in embarrassment. He looked guiltily back at the girl, feeling a sickness in the pit of his stomach that Cheyenne might’ve caused her some pain. But what he found was an empty bench. She and the younger girl had quietly moved off the seat and were walking slowly away. Hardy watched them as they retreated. He saw the girl pause for just a moment before they rounded one of the decorative gazebos that dotted the park. His heart leapt in his chest, thinking she was going to turn and look back at him. But she didn’t. Instead, Hardy saw her tip her head back and let the sun pour down over her face, as if she were enjoying the feel of the heat on her skin. The simple gesture stirred something inside Hardy, making him suddenly ashamed of the company he kept, ashamed of the way he lived his life, ashamed of the things he took for granted. He had no idea how something so brief, so innocuous as that gesture could have such a profound effect on him, but it did. S h e did. It was undeniable. As she disappeared behind the gazebo, Hardy couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her in her short life to make her so appreciative of such mundane things as the sun and the park and a balloon. He was surprised at how

desperately he wanted to know the answer to those questions, to know the answers to her—her life, her mind, her heart. He knew there was nothing that he wanted more than to know her. Lost in thought, Hardy mused silently about the girl as he mindlessly followed Cheyenne. By the time he came to his senses, they were already back where they’d started and Cheyenne was slapping her car keys into his hand. “You drive. I need to change clothes,” she stated, her tone indicating she was still irritated. Deeply shaken by the girl with the red balloon, Hardy stared blankly at Cheyenne for several long seconds. He knew his hesitation had cost him—something wonderful most likely. In his mind, Hardy threw caution to the wind and turned from Cheyenne to jog back to the tree, back to the bench. Back to the girl. He knew she wouldn’t be there, so in his head he scoured the park for her, his eyes scanning every head and every face for hers. But she was nowhere to be found. He knew that when he’d let Cheyenne lead him away, he’d lost his chance to find out the name of the girl who, without a single word spoken to him, had stolen his heart.

CHAPTER TWO

5 months later For the first time he could remember, Hardy was actually anxious to get to class. Normally, he dawdled as much as he could, pushing his arrival to the outer limits of what his teachers would tolerate. He’d learned many years ago that being the star quarterback had its advantages. On this day, however, Hardy was practically pushing people out of the way to get to the Chemistry Lab. He really couldn’t have cared less about being late; he just wanted there to be a reason for Cheyenne to shut up. For well over a week, she’d talked incessantly about her upcoming birthday, dropping hints about what she wanted. Only a complete idiot would fail to see that she wanted a butterfly necklace. Her obsession with it had started wearing on his nerves after about an hour. And that was over a week ago. She was wrecking his patience and he was an exceedingly patient guy. Scrambling through the door to get to his seat, Hardy paid little attention to the tiny brunette standing at the front of the room talking to Mrs. Goodman. He just wanted to put his head down for a minute or two before class started. Cheyenne had given him the beginnings of a nasty headache. When the bell rang, Hardy raised his head and bent to retrieve his Chem Lab workbook from his backpack. When he straightened, his eyes collided with the curious green

eyes of the girl sitting next to him. Hardy was stunned. As he drank in her delicate features, they all looked familiar but for the shoulder length dark brown hair. When this girl had so mesmerized him before, she’d been bald. Hardy still recognized her, though. He would’ve recognized those eyes anywhere. The corners of her mouth curved into a serene smile. For some reason, the image of an angel popped into his head. Hardy was certain if he ever got to see an angel smile, that’s what it would look like. And feel like. Being near the sun itself couldn’t have made him feel any warmer. Suddenly, Hardy was compelled beyond reason to find out who the girl was. He didn’t know why it mattered so much. He just knew it did. He smiled back at her, but before he could speak, a waspish voice cut into the moment. “Stare much,” Cheyenne’s voice buzzed from the seat in front of him. From the corner of his eye, he could see that she’d turned her head to glare at the new girl. Hardy cringed inwardly as blood rushed to his cheeks. He was sure he’d only blushed twice in his life. Both times had been in front of this girl and both times had been because of Cheyenne. “Just ignore her,” he said off-handedly, rolling his grayish blue eyes. The new girl smiled again, first at Hardy and then, surprisingly, at Cheyenne. When Cheyenne snorted and turned huffily back toward the front of the room, the girl looked back at Hardy and winked. Much to Hardy’s dismay, Mrs. Goodman chose that exact

moment to begin class. Hardy would’ve given anything to talk with the new girl for just a few more minutes. “Before we get started, I’d like for you all to welcome our new student. Her name is Miracle St. James and she comes to us from North Dakota. Welcome, Miracle.” “Miracle,” Hardy said aloud. He hadn’t really meant to. It just sort of slipped out. But it got her to turn in his direction again, so he figured it was worth the embarrassment. “Cool name,” he said casually, trying to play it off. “What kind of name is Miracle?” Cheyenne muttered from in front of him. Miracle didn’t deign to answer, or even really acknowledge her in any way other than to smile again. Her lips curved peacefully, as if she were completely unruffled by Cheyenne’s attitude. Throughout the rest of class, Hardy stole numerous glances in Miracle’s direction. He wasn’t sure why he found her so fascinating, but he did. It only heightened his curiosity that she paid no attention to him whatsoever. At one point, Miracle appeared to lose interest in what Mrs. Goodman was saying. He watched her turn toward the window and stare out at the sunny day, absently tapping her pen against her cheek. He found himself wondering what she was thinking and if she was smiling. He imagined that she was. She seemed always to be smiling. At the end of class, Hardy purposely took his time packing his things away. He was secretly hoping Cheyenne would get frustrated and go ahead of him so he could have a few minutes with Miracle. But she didn’t. In fact, Cheyenne quickly made it impossible for him to linger once she started to antagonize her.

“Can you believe that girl, just staring at you like that? I mean, come on. Rude much?” At least she was pretending to keep her voice down. She was loud whispering in what Hardy knew was an attempt to get her point across without seeming too venomous. Hardy was pretty sure Miracle could hear her, even though she showed no outward sign. She seemed pleasant and cool as a cucumber. With a sigh so loud it bordered on a growl, Hardy slung his bag over his shoulder and stalked out of the Chemistry Lab ahead of Cheyenne. He could hear the clack of her shoes as she scrambled to keep up. “What is your deal?” she called from behind him once they were in the hall. When Hardy neither slowed nor acknowledged her, Cheyenne lunged forward, grabbing his arm. “Hey! What is your problem?” When Hardy turned and saw her expression, anger flew through him. “You are so rude and obnoxious! Sometimes I don’t know why I stay with you.” Immediately, he regretted his words. Even though they were true, he hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings, which he knew he’d done when her eyes began to fill. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice, blinking her thick lashes to hold back the spillage of tears. “She didn’t do anything wrong. I know she was just being nice, but I can’t help but feel…” She trailed off, sniffing pitifully, working the one angle sure to get Hardy to calm down—guilt. “Feel what?”

“Feel like I’m losing you,” she finished, casting her eyes down. “You were distracted all summer. I was hoping that would change once we started our senior year, but it hasn’t.” Hardy sighed, running his fingers through his short, brown hair in frustration. “You’re not losing me, I’m just…” Hardy paused, feeling a sharp stab in the area of his conscience over the lie. He consoled himself with the thought that she really wasn’t losing him; he was already gone. It was just a matter of time before she knew it. “I’m trying to focus on football, that’s all. You know how important this year is for me. Dad’s trying to get scouts to come out and watch me, and I have to keep my head in the game. I’m sorry if I seem distant.” Cheyenne reached for his hand, running her fingers between his as she spoke. “I’d be devastated if something happened to us. I love you. You know that.” “I know,” Hardy said, pulling his fingers from hers to wrap his arm around her neck and pull her along. For some reason, he didn’t want Miracle to come out of class and see them standing there. “We need to get a move on or we’ll be late.” “Since when is that a problem for you?” she asked, looking up into his face like the sun rose and set at his command. “Good point,” Hardy teased as they turned the corner to head to their lockers. ******** Lunch was always a production at Seminole Senior High, at least if you ate third group with the members of the

football team. There were a handful of rowdy guys that served as entertainment to any and all who sat near them. Being the quarterback, Hardy seemed always to be in the center of everything, including Charlie and Robert, two of the rowdiest. Everyone at Hardy’s table had finished eating and had congregated outside on the lawn. Currently, they were all standing in a loose circle watching the disgusting escapades of Charlie and Robert. They were hocking loogies into the air and catching them as they came back down. Although fairly amusing, it still made Hardy’s mouth water to watch the slime run down their chins when they nearly missed. The crowd was cheering them on between bouts of laughter and groans of disgust. A couple of girls walked by behind Charlie and one of them caught Hardy’s eye. Wearing her trademark sweet smile, Miracle was walking down the slope of the lawn with a girl he recognized but didn’t know. He was pretty sure she was one of the art students, the type that wasn’t very involved in sports or parties, which were the activities Hardy’s crowd engaged in most often. The only attention he paid her was to notice that she walked with Miracle. Beyond that, she was immediately forgotten. The couple stepped into the sunshine. The golden light glinted off Miracle’s hair, highlighting an auburn tone and slight wave he hadn’t noticed before. He’d seen enough of Cheyenne’s magazines to know that girls would kill for hair like Miracle’s. It was thick and rich, a far cry from the bald head he’d seen once before. “Da-yum!”

The explicative drew Hardy’s attention back to Nate, whose head was turned watching Miracle as well. “What?” Hardy asked, already feeling defensive about what the answer likely was. “Who is that?” Although it made no sense, Hardy wanted to punch his best friend right in the mouth. A notorious man whore, Nate had a reputation for chasing anything in a skirt, and, even though he was a nice guy deep down, Hardy had a big problem with the way he was eyeing Miracle. “She’s new. No one you’d be interested in,” Hardy replied, trying to sound casual despite his prickling ire. “Why not, Hardy? She’d be ideal for Nate,” Cheyenne piped up, making Hardy grit his teeth in frustration. “He likes the skinny ones. Look, Nate,” she said, addressing Hardy’s best friend. “She looks like a twelve year old boy. Perfect!” “No, she doesn’t,” Hardy argued a bit sharply. “Yes, she does! Look at that. She’s straight as a stick and has no boobs.” “She’s just thin. And her clothes are loose.” “That’s not ‘just thin,’ Hardy.” “I like her body,” Nate interjected. “You would,” Cheyenne sneered. “You know I like ‘em any way I can get ‘em, don’t you, Cheyenne?” Nate’s barb effectively quieted Cheyenne, her mouth snapping shut with a click of her teeth. She and Nate had a history and he knew just how to push her buttons. “I don’t think she’s your type anyway, Nate,” Hardy said. “Any girl is my type.”

“Any girl except nice girls.” Cheyenne took offense at Hardy’s remark, huffing and smacking his arm in a fit of pique. “You know I didn’t mean you,” Hardy clarified with a roll of his eyes. “How do you know she’s a nice girl anyway?” Cheyenne asked. “You don’t even know her.” Hardy had no response to that. Cheyenne was right; he didn’t know Miracle. Not really. But, somehow, he felt like he did. And he certainly wanted to. Looking for any excuse to change the subject and draw attention away from Miracle, Hardy put on his most mischievous smile and teased Nate. “You’d better put thoughts like that right out of your head, Nate. You’ve got your hands full, remember? Wasn’t Rena supposed to be the one you’d tag in a week? And what’s it been now? Six?” A couple other guys in the circle jumped in to playfully harass Nate, effectively diverting attention away from Miracle. All except Hardy’s, of course. He couldn’t stop his eyes from straying toward the sunshine, from searching for her dark head. A sharp jab to his ribs pulled his attention back to the girl at his side. When he turned to look at Cheyenne, she was watching him carefully, frowning. Although he could see some concern in her eyes, what he saw mostly was anger. ******** Sixth period—the last of the day and Hardy’s favorite. It was photography. All seniors who took any kind of art elective had it as their last class of the day. Most saw it as a period to goof off and relax. Hardy saw it as the one hour he could pursue his passion.

Strolling into class, Hardy placed his camera bag in the floor beside his desk and slid into the chair. He was already thinking ahead to the two major assignments of the first semester—nature and people. Hardy hoped one day to make his living as a sports photographer. Not that anyone in the world knew that or would’ve cared if they did. His father and Cheyenne wanted him to be a pro football player. His mother wanted him to be a dentist like her father, although she went along with the football thing out of fear. All his friends thought any kind of art was for wusses, so Hardy kept his love of photography to himself. He was staring dreamily out the window, thinking of what he might like to photograph first, when a voice like velvet had him jerking his head toward the front of the room. His heart soared when he saw her. He couldn’t stop the dumb grin that curved his lips when she turned and spotted him. She returned his smile with one of her own. It made his palms sweaty. Hardy watched as she made her way between the desks to the only empty seat in the room—the one behind him in the very back of the class. Hardy gave Miracle a minute to get situated before he turned to speak to her. His heart hammered as he thought of what he would say. Never in his life had he been nervous to talk to a girl. I’m not really nervous per se, he told himself. But he was. For the first time he could remember, he actually cared what a girl thought of him, actually wanted to make a good impression. Normally, they sought him out. He didn’t even have to try. At all. Even though he’d been dating Cheyenne for going on four years, he’d never lacked feminine attention. Apparently girls didn’t care whether he

was taken or not. They just wanted him. Period. Finally, clearing his throat, Hardy turned in his seat, hanging his arm casually over the corner of Miracle’s desk. “Miracle, right?” Idiot! Hardy thought. She knows you know her name.

Now you just sound like a mental patient. “Yes,” she said, her lips curving into that angelic smile. “I didn’t catch your name.” “Hardy,” he answered, bringing his right hand around in offer of a handshake. “Hardy Bradford.” Miracle glanced at Hardy’s hand and her smile widened. He felt like kicking himself.

Dude! You’re offering her a handshake? offering a girl a handshake?

You’re

It was too late to rescind the gesture, however, so Hardy held his position, praying she wouldn’t think him a complete jackass and run as fast as she could in the other direction. Slowly, much to Hardy’s relief, she slid her fingers into his and clasped them for a surprisingly firm handshake. The skin was cool and as soft as anything he’d ever felt. Hardy wondered absently if her cheek felt the same way. He imagined that it did. “Nice to meet you, Hardy.” They pumped each other’s hand, smiling into each other’s eyes for several seconds before Miracle tugged as if to pull her hand from his. When she did, Hardy squeezed for just a moment, unwilling to let it go. “Since you two have already made your own introductions,” Mr. Gault said from right behind Hardy, causing him to jump and release Miracle’s hand, “why don’t you help her catch up with what she’s missed and show her

around a little, Hardy? We’re only discussing natural light this period anyway, and it sounds like Miracle knows as much about it as you do. I doubt either of you will miss much.” Hardy cleared his throat again. “Yes, sir.” Hardy purposely held his lips in a neutral line as he turned back around in his seat. It took quite a bit of effort to suppress the bubble of goofy laughter he felt tickling in his chest. He just couldn’t believe his luck! After Mr. Gault went over announcements, he nodded to Hardy. Reaching for his camera bag, Hardy turned quietly to Miracle. “Let’s go. Time to get the tour.” Hardy nearly held out his hand for Miracle to take. Luckily, he realized it in the nick of time and stuffed that hand in his pocket instead. He had no idea what was wrong with him, why he was reacting to Miracle like he was; he only knew he’d have to mind his Ps and Qs. For some reason she was making him feel kind of crazy, and of all the years Hardy could’ve afforded a little crazy, this was not one of them. The first place he took Miracle was the dark room. “This place is off limits to anyone not in a photography class, but we still have a sign-up sheet since there are quite a few of us. It’s set up for two people to develop in here at a time, so you should always be able to get in,” Hardy explained. “In fact, if you want, I could sign you up for a few of my times. Just so you’ll be able to catch up and stuff. You know…” Miracle smiled her sweet, slightly sad smile and Hardy’s stomach flipped over. “Thank you. I really appreciate that. I don’t know how many times I’ll be able to come, but I’d like

to try and stay caught up.” Miracle tilted her head to one side and let out a small sigh, reaching forward to run one finger wistfully along the edge of a tray. He wanted desperately to ask what she meant by that, but something about her expression gave him pause. Uncertain of what to say and hesitant to interrupt her thought, Hardy took the clip board down from the nail on the wall. As he looked down the list of assigned times, he cursed every person who had signed up to share time with him. There were still a few open slots, however, so he scribbled Miracle beside his name in every last one. “So, I’m assuming you’ve developed your own pictures before?” Miracle nodded distractedly. “Last year, we were allowed to use digital cameras for a couple of projects, but for the most part he wants us to stick with the old-school method in black and white.” Again, she nodded. “Okay, well, let me show you the ‘conservatory,’” Hardy said, using air quotes. “There’s a conservatory here?” Hardy hated to disappoint Miracle when she seemed so impressed by that. “Uh,” he chuckled. “No, not really. That’s just what they call it. Come on. You’ll see.” Hardy led Miracle out of the dark room, down the hall and out into the afternoon sun. Even though he’d lived in Florida his whole life, the late summer heat still struck him like a slap in the face on occasion. He sucked in a breath. “Oh my god, it’s so frickin’ hot!”

Miracle said nothing, simply followed him along the paver path, past the horticulture building. Hardy rounded the corner at the back of the brick structure and then veered left, continuing along the trail down a slight incline to an ancient greenhouse. He stopped a few feet in front of the door and swept his arm out in a grand and dramatic gesture. “The ‘conservatory,’” he announced with a facetious flourish. Removed from any other structure at the school, the greenhouse was constructed of wrought iron ribs with foggy, aged plexi-glass spanning the space between. The panes toward the top were cracked open to allow for the release of hot air, undoubtedly cooling the sweltering inside temperatures. “The ‘conservatory’ is an old greenhouse?” Miracle asked, the corners of her mouth twitching. “And that’s not even the best part,” Hardy declared, stepping forward to hold the door open for Miracle to enter. “Oh, there’s more?” she asked, playing along in an excited voice. “Think your heart can stand it?” Miracle chuckled lightly and mumbled under her breath, “My heart’s not the problem.” Hardy wasn’t certain he’d heard her correctly, but again, he was loathe to ask her any personal questions. The image of her delicate face beneath a hairless scalp still circled the outskirts of his mind, making him uneasy broaching any sensitive subjects. Letting the door close behind her, Hardy directed Miracle’s attention to the green foliage that lined the

workbenches and multi-level shelves on the left and right. “The horticulture classes use this to grow plants and play with soil composition and all that stuff. I don’t know much about it. It’s pretty boring,” Hardy said, moving slowly down the narrow walkway that cut through the center of the greenhouse. “There is one thing I think’s pretty cool, though.” “What’s that?” Miracle asked, turning her head this way and that to check out every plant they passed. For a moment, Hardy was silent, feeling a little bedazzled by the soft look of appreciation on her face. Glancing quickly toward the nondescript green plants he’d seen dozens of times, he wondered what she found so interesting, wondered what she was thinking of as she looked at the foliage. “It’s back here,” he said quietly, turning to lead Miracle around the only corner in the greenhouse. A small addition had been constructed off to one side of the structure. The glass was clearer and the temperature was slightly warmer in the tiny wing. The facilities were discernibly newer and more high-tech, too. Those were the things Hardy noticed normally and was prepared to comment on. But not today. Today, he was only aware of the girl in front of him and the expression of wonder she wore. For the first time, he thought he might be seeing what she saw. Orchids of every shade and hue lined the metal benches on either side of the walkway. Compared to the fairly monotone view in the larger room, this one looked alive with color, with life. The floral scents of the different orchids mingled, giving the air a sweet, seductive smell he’d never

noticed before. But the most incredible thing of all was Miracle. Her green eyes were round with amazement and her pouty lips were slightly parted in awe. She moved her head slowly, taking in every detail it seemed. Compelled to photograph nature in a way he never had been before, Hardy quietly unzipped his bag and removed his camera. After he flipped off the lens cover and snapped a couple shots of the beautiful flowers, Hardy found himself focusing on a view of a different kind. A face —Miracle’s. The bright afternoon sun poured onto the top of her head. As she bent forward, cupping the delicate blossom of a deep purple orchid and burying her nose in the center of its petals, her face fell into shadow. Through the lens of his camera, Hardy saw her eyes drift closed as she inhaled. He was captivated. He took pictures as she sampled the delightful aromas of several different orchids. Each time she raised her head, he fell a little more in love with the sweetly sad smile that seemed ever present. Finally, Miracle turned to Hardy, tilting her head to one side as if to say you’re in trouble, mister! Hardy smiled, snapping photos for action shots as she smirked and shook her head. “I don’t remember telling you it was all right to take my picture,” she scolded gently. “Price of the tour, ma’am. Price of the tour,” Hardy said from behind his camera. “Is this why the ‘conservatory,’” she said, holding up her fingers for air quotes as he had done, “is included in the photography class tour?”

Hardy lowered his camera. “Actually, it sort of is. Mr. Gault talked them into letting us use this for some of our course requirements. The light is so great, and the colors, back here especially. Plus, when it rains, it’s hard to go outside and take pictures, and that’s what one of our main focuses is this year—nature.” “Well,” Miracle said, looking up into the sun as she turned a complete circle. “There is definitely some very nice nature in here.” “That’s exactly what I was just thinking,” Hardy murmured bemusedly. Miracle’s head dropped back into place and her eyes locked with his. For a few tense seconds she didn’t say or do anything. Her expression was simply blank. But then, slowly, as though someone were painting them with brushstrokes from Heaven, her cheeks blossomed with color and she smiled again. Hardy was positive he’d never seen anything more haunting than her smile. It was radiant. It was breathtaking. And it was heartbreaking. Or heartbroken.

CHAPTER THREE “What are those?” Miracle asked hurriedly, as if anxious to change the subject. Her eyes had shifted and she was looking past Hardy to the end of the short addition, to the back wall where a row of pots lined a single shelf there. The flowers emerging from them looked quite different than the other orchids. “I think they are night-blooming orchids. The bloom only opens at night and then closes back up during the day.” “That’s amazing!” she exclaimed, slipping past Hardy to further investigate the unassuming-looking flower. As she passed, a light scent wafted up to envelop him. Unable to stop himself, Hardy inhaled. Lavender. Somehow, the delicate aroma suited Miracle perfectly. “I love flowers almost as much as I love photography,” Miracle mused softly, running a finger down one green leaf. “There are few things that make me happier.” Hardy noticed that, as she spoke, Miracle absently stroked the small black camera bag that hung at her left side. Much to Hardy’s dismay, the bell chose that moment to ring. It didn’t seem possible that the period was already over. “Wow, that was fast,” Miracle observed, turning back toward the exit. Without a word, Hardy replaced his camera in its bag and slung it over his shoulder. He motioned for Miracle to precede him to the door, flexing his fingers to keep from placing his hand on the small of her back as she passed.

He’d never wanted to touch another person so badly in all his life. They were both silent as they made their way back into the school. Hardy stole glances at Miracle as they walked. Her eyes were trained on the ground. He couldn’t help wonder what she was thinking, All too soon, they were back at the door in front of the photography lab and Hardy found himself at a loss for something to say. He knew whatever he said would bring an end to his time with Miracle, an occurrence he’d have done anything to prevent. “Well, thank you,” she said finally, smiling shyly up at him. “I really appreciate—” “There you are,” Cheyenne exclaimed as she rounded the corner onto the hall. “I’ve been waiting at your locker.” Making her way quickly to Hardy’s side, Cheyenne looped her arm through his and smiled brightly at Miracle. “Hi! I’m Cheyenne.” “Hi,” Miracle said, a tolerant smile curving her lips. “I’m Miracle.” Forcing himself not to pull away from Cheyenne as he so desperately wanted to do, Hardy watched Miracle’s face. Although it was subtle, he thought he could detect a difference in her smile. It seemed the tiniest bit cooler, though not something he suspected anyone else would’ve noticed. He’d just been paying an inordinate amount of attention to her smile. It was starting to feel like something he couldn’t live without, which was ridiculous. Ridiculous, but true. “I’m sorry about before,” Cheyenne said, wrinkling her nose. Hardy was surprised by the change in her

demeanor. She appeared to be almost…genuine. “PMS. It’s no excuse, but at least it’s an explanation.” Miracle’s smile warmed a bit, not at all to Hardy’s surprise. He imagined she was the forgiving type. “I know how that goes,” she sympathized. “Are you in photography, too?” “Yep.” “Poor Hardy, he has to take a class like this to make him the best candidate for the best schools, but he hates every minute of it. He’s not exactly artistically inclined,” Cheyenne teased, poking Hardy in the ribs. Inwardly, Hardy rolled his eyes. Cheyenne didn’t know him at all. Miracle said nothing. Although she continued to smile in her peaceful way, Hardy saw the skin between her brows bunch. A tiny frown appeared there for the space of a heartbeat before it disappeared as if it had never been. Clearing her throat, Cheyenne quickly moved on to another subject. “So, you’re from North Dakota, right?” Miracle nodded. “Then you need to come with us tomorrow for Free Friday Afternoon. We almost always do something outside and there’s nothing like Florida sunshine.” Hardy saw Miracle’s eyes light up. They were filled with such anticipation he felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you! That sounds great, but what’s Free Friday Afternoon?” “Seniors get out of school after lunch on Fridays. I guess they figure it keeps us from skipping school more on Fridays. They started it a few years back. And for us,”

Cheyenne said, squeezing Hardy’s arm and bestowing a bright smile upon him, “we always go do something fun before the game. It’s part of Hardy’s ritual.” “Ritual?” Miracle asked, her eyes bouncing from Cheyenne to Hardy and back again. “Yeah, Hardy’s got a big future in football and we’re all doing our part to make sure nothing changes and that he has the best year of his life.” “Won’t it ruin it for him, then, if I come?” “Oh, no. As long as I’m there, he’ll be fine,” Cheyenne boasted sweetly. Maybe a little too sweetly. “So you’ll come?” “Sure.” “Good,” Cheyenne said with a nod. “So, we’ll meet after lunch in the parking lot, k?” “Do I need to bring anything?” “Nope. If it turns out you need anything, I’ll bring it.” “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Miracle said, smiling politely before she turned to Hardy. “Thanks again for showing me around.” “No problem,” Hardy said, holding back all the other things he wished he could say. With that, Miracle walked off in one direction and Cheyenne tugged Hardy down the hall in the other. It was with increasing perplexity that he realized his mind—and his heart—went with Miracle. ******** Hardy was more anxious than ever for Friday afternoon to roll around. He was always a bundle of nervous energy before a game, but this was something different. He found he was more looking forward to spending Friday afternoon

with Miracle than performing well for the game. And that was a first. After what felt like the longest morning in the history of time, lunch was finally over and Hardy was making his way to the parking lot to await Miracle. She’d been in Chemistry Lab, although she’d merely smiled politely and then turned to stare out the window for most of the class. And she’d been at lunch; he’d seen her with the art student again. Lucy he thought her name was. He’d watched her discreetly from the corner of his eye, practically prancing by the time the last lunch bell rang, officially signaling the end of the truncated school day. And now he was waiting for her, anxiously scanning every face that poured from the school’s front doors. Cheyenne was chatting with her best friend, Elise, leaving Hardy to his own thoughts, ones that seemed forever turned in Miracle’s direction these days. Hardy glanced at his watch. It was getting late. Disappointment flooded him when he realized Miracle probably wasn’t coming. It was enough to make him want to cancel. He turned to Cheyenne to discuss just that when he caught sight of a dark head popping through the doors. It was Miracle. She hovered at shoulder height of most everyone near her. Hardy straightened, watching her as she made her way through the crowd to the edge of the parking lot. She stopped to look around, shielding her eyes from the bright sun as she scanned the cars in search of a familiar face. When her gaze reached him, Hardy smiled widely and waved. His stomach twitched in excitement when she returned his smile and stepped off the curb.

He watched her as she walked toward him. Her tiny body weaved around slower-moving ones. She smiled at and spoke to each person. It was as though she couldn’t come into contact with anyone or anything without imparting some of her goodness onto them. He’d never met anyone like her. When she finally reached them, Hardy saw her look expectantly from him to Cheyenne and back again. It was then that Hardy noticed how quiet his surroundings had become. Cheyenne was no longer chattering. He glanced to his right to where she stood, and saw that she was quietly watching him. She held his gaze for several seconds before she turned to Miracle. Much to Hardy’s relief, Cheyenne put on a fake, toobright smile. He didn’t think Miracle would notice. He was just grateful Cheyenne was being pleasant. “Ready to go?” “Whenever you are,” was Miracle’s response. “We’ll all ride together. Everyone else has already left.” “Where are we going?” Miracle asked as she climbed into the back seat of Cheyenne’s convertible. “Be patient,” Cheyenne scolded lightly with a grin. “You’ll see.” With that, Cheyenne started the engine and sped out of the parking lot. Ten minutes later, she was pulling into a private lot one street over from the beach. Cutting the engine, Cheyenne jumped out of the car. Elise quickly followed suit, leaving Hardy to raise his seat and let Miracle out. He offered his hand and caught his breath when she took it. He would never get over how soft her skin was. Once she was safely free of the back seat, Hardy

released his hold on her hand. He knew Cheyenne was watching him; he could feel it. And he didn’t want to raise her ire. She could ruin the day if he wasn’t careful. Cheyenne rounded the car to the trunk where she and Elise recovered two huge canvas bags. The foursome set off to cross the street. As they were making their way between two hotels, the vast ocean came into view. “We’re going to the beach?” Miracle asked. Hardy forgot she probably wasn’t familiar with Middleton yet and didn’t know where they were. “We sure are,” Cheyenne answered happily. “Um, I didn’t bring a suit.” “I brought one for you,” Cheyenne informed with a smile. “See? I told you not to worry anything.” “I appreciate it, but I think I’ll just sit this one out.” “Don’t be ridiculous. You have to get some sun. The weather is perfect this time of year.” “I see that, but I can enjoy it without changing clothes.” “Seriously, Miracle, you’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t at least get some sun and you’ll never be able to do that with those clothes on.” Hardy saw Miracle’s cheeks pink up as she tugged selfconsciously at the neckline of her lightweight, long-sleeved sweater. He saw the indecision on her face and was just about ready to step in when she agreed. “All right.” “Yay!” Cheyenne exclaimed, clapping her hands. With that, they made their way onto the sand and to the cabana that Cheyenne’s family owned. “Your trunks are still in your drawer,” Cheyenne advised

Hardy. “After he changes, you can change, Miracle. I’ve got everything you’ll need in here.” Taking out a towel for herself, Cheyenne handed Miracle the canvas bag. “Where’s your suit?” Miracle asked. “I’m wearing mine,” Cheyenne said, taking the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it over her head to reveal a bright red bikini top. She proceeded to unbutton and shimmy out of the shorts she was wearing, standing proudly in front of the group. Hardy had to admit she certainly could fill out a bikini. Hardy glanced at Miracle, who was watching Cheyenne with a troubled expression. Immediately, he saw Cheyenne’s display in a totally different light. And he didn’t like it. “I’m going to change,” he announced, irritated with Cheyenne’s exhibition. For some reason, he felt she’d done it as a dig to Miracle, even though she hadn’t said a single mean word. Less than five minutes later, Hardy emerged wearing his swim trunks. His other clothes were balled up in a tight wad in his hand. Miracle was perched uncomfortably on the end of a chaise, staring out at Cheyenne, chewing her bottom lip. “It’s all yours,” he said, indicating the small changing room. With a tight smile, Miracle stood and walked past him, closing the door snugly behind her. Out on the sand, Hardy positioned himself where he could pretend to pay all his attention to Cheyenne, but actually watch for Miracle to come out of the cabana. With his sunglasses on, he didn’t have to worry about Cheyenne noticing how often he glanced behind her.

When Miracle emerged, the first thing Hardy noticed was that she had a towel wrapped around her and was clutching it tightly to her chest. The only evidence he could see of clothing was the coral-colored strap of her bathing suit where it wound around her neck. She looked uneasy as she approached the group and stopped. Elise nodded toward Miracle and Cheyenne spun in her direction. “Did it fit?” Miracle nodded. “Good. I thought it would,” Cheyenne said, seeming pleased with herself. “Come on. Let’s go find everyone else.” Cheyenne and Elise took the lead, leaving Hardy and Miracle to walk behind them. Watching Cheyenne bounce and priss in front of him left Hardy without doubt that she was doing it on purpose. It wasn’t having the desired effect, though. Rather than impressing Hardy, it only embarrassed him and made him feel uncomfortable in front of Miracle. He couldn’t imagine her acting that way under any circumstances and it made him wonder what he’d ever seen in a girl like Cheyenne. A large group of their friends were already lounging on their towels down near the water. When Cheyenne stopped in front of them, she unfolded her towel and spread it out on the sand. “Okay, who’s getting in?” she asked. Several people hopped up and brushed sand off their suits, ready to head for the ocean. “Miracle?” Cheyenne asked pointedly. “No, I think I’ll stay out here, but thanks. You all go ahead.”

“Oh, come on! The water is warm this time of year.” “I’d rather not, but thanks.” “You have to at least come down and get splashed.” “I think I’ll just stay up here. You go.” “Oh, come on, Miracle!” Cheyenne said, grabbing Miracle’s hand and tugging. “Just for a minute.” Cheyenne pulled at Miracle, but Miracle dug her feet into the sand and resisted. “Really, I’d rather not.” “Please. Come on,” Cheyenne begged, tugging again. “Seriously, you all go ahead.” “Don’t make me get Hardy to carry you down there,” Cheyenne threatened with a grin, grabbing at Miracle’s other hand where it held her towel in place. Miracle clutched the towel, almost frantically, backing away from Cheyenne. “I’m not going. You guys go ahead. I’m staying here.” Giggling, Cheyenne quickly reached forward and yanked at the tail of Miracle’s towel, surprising her and pulling it away from her body. Miracle gasped, standing in embarrassment and shock for several seconds before she moved her arms to try and cover herself. Hardy’s heart dropped into his toes. Although on some level he did note that Miracle was much more voluptuous than what she appeared to be in her too-baggy, overlyconcealing clothes, his pleasure at that took a back seat to the ache he felt for her when he saw the scar. Since seeing Miracle that day in the park, Hardy had wondered why she’d been bald. He assumed it was something health related, but one could never be too sure that it wasn’t some sort of fashion statement or act of

rebellion. He knew without a doubt that Miracle’s bald head had been neither. A long purplish scar marred Miracle’s abdomen. It extended vertically from her ribs down her side at an angle toward her hipbone. It stood out starkly against her pale skin and she was obviously extremely self-conscious about it. She tried to hide it beneath her hands, but they weren’t big enough to cover the entire length of it. Everyone in the group had stopped and turned to stare, wide-eyed and gape-mouthed, at Miracle. Hardy watched her silently take in every face, her gaze finally making its way back to him. He saw the tears glistening in her eyes and what little grip he had on his temper snapped. Stepping toward Cheyenne, Hardy jerked the towel from her lax fingers, daring her with his eyes to say something. Shaking the sand from one end, Hardy walked slowly to where Miracle stood and carefully wrapped the towel around her shoulders, drawing it close around her. When her enormous emerald eyes rose to his, Hardy saw gratitude in the liquid depths. It was all he could do not to bend down and pick her up to carry her away to safety, even if it was just emotional safety. But that would only make it worse for her, he knew. Instead, Hardy gently placed his palm between her shoulder blades and nudged, urging her to turn around. When she did, he led her across the hot sand back to the cabana. “Sorry Miracle,” Cheyenne finally called when they were nearly outside earshot. Miracle said nothing, but Hardy felt her deep inhalation beneath his hand and knew she was struggling with emotion.

Once they’d arrived at the cabana, Hardy stopped and took Miracle by the shoulders. They felt so thin and frail beneath his hands. She was even tinier than what he’d imagined. And now he knew why. “Do you want me to take you home?” Miracle swallowed hard. “No, you go and have fun. I’ll just stay here until you’re ready to leave. It’s not a big deal.” Hardy couldn’t imagine what it cost her to be so brave and so selfless. He realized that she was twice the person he could ever hope to be. “I’m ready to go. The beach has lost most of its appeal. Why don’t I take you home?” Relief flashed quickly across Miracle’s face before she began to frown. “Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin your afternoon. And this is important to you, to your game.” Hardy nearly laughed. At that moment, nothing was more important than Miracle. “I’ll be fine. Seriously. Why don’t you change clothes and I’ll take you as I go?” Reluctantly, Miracle nodded, turning to grab Cheyenne’s big canvas bag and head to the changing room. Hardy slipped on his wrinkled t-shirt and his tennis shoes while he waited, the sight of Miracle trying to cover herself playing over and over on a loop through his mind. He couldn’t help thinking it sad that when she looked in the mirror, she probably didn’t see beyond that scar. He doubted she saw the beautiful girl staring back at her. When Miracle emerged, dressed once more in her slightly ill-fitting clothes, Hardy’s heart squeezed inside his chest to see that her eyes and nose were red. She’d been crying. Silently.

Hardy took the bag from her fingers, unzipping the outside pocket to bring out a set of keys. Palming them, he held out his other hand to Miracle. “Come on,” he said, not caring whether anyone would see him holding her hand. In fact, he couldn’t have cared less. Hesitantly, Miracle slid her cool fingers across his palm and he curled his larger ones around them, marveling at her delicate bones. Neither of them said another word as they made their way back to Cheyenne’s car. After Hardy had stowed his shorts and socks beneath the driver’s seat, he turned the ignition key and the engine purred quickly to life. He turned to Miracle and smiled. He was happy to see that she was smiling as well; it was a small, mischievous one. “Won’t Cheyenne get mad that you’re taking her car without asking?” Hardy shrugged, completely unconcerned. “Don’t know. Don’t care.” With a grin, he shifted into gear. Just before his foot hit the gas pedal, he heard Miracle say in a quiet voice, “I know she didn’t mean to do that.” Hardy simply stared at Miracle. He knew she thought Cheyenne didn’t purposely embarrass her that way; there was no way she could’ve known about the scar. But Cheyenne had tried to force Miracle into doing something she didn’t want to do. So, whether her intentions were good or not, the fact that her inconsiderate nature had caused Miracle such obvious humiliation was enough to make Hardy see red. He wasn’t as kind and forgiving as Miracle. He doubted anyone on the planet was.

“She still ruined your afternoon and I’m really sorry about that.” Miracle smiled her sad, sweet smile, reaching out to lay her hand on top of Hardy’s. Hardy had to make himself not turn his hand over to lace his fingers through hers. “Don’t be,” she advised kindly. Her eyes shone with something he’d never seen in another person, something otherworldly, as if she’d seen things that most others hadn’t. Hardy could only guess at what she’d had to suffer in order to get a look like that, a world view like that. Miracle made his heart hurt. But she also made it fly. “Now,” Miracle said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the headrest. “Let’s get some music going and some wind in our hair!” Hardy smiled, feeling more energized by her presence than he had any right to feel. For a moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take his eyes off her long enough to drive. She had tilted her head back just enough that the sun fell full on her face. Her complexion was like rich cream, her lips pouty, and her nose straight. It even bathed the gentle curve of her throat. She was mesmerizing. Finally, when she turned her head toward him and cracked an eyelid, he looked down to turn on the radio and then steer the car out of the parking lot. “Where am I going?” he asked, hating to disturb her. “Do you know where Iron Street is?” Hardy nodded and listened as Miracle told him how to get to her house. What Hardy knew of Iron Street was that it was fairly low income. Other than that, he knew very little, as he’d never been there. But still, he knew where it was. Miracle resumed her position and Hardy pulled onto the

road. He sneaked a glance in her direction every couple of minutes, unable to help himself. She looked perfectly at peace. He hoped she could just forget about today. Just not about him. Miracle opened her eyes when he began making the series of short turns that would bring them to her house. Neither of them said anything. It wasn’t until he’d pulled to a stop outside a tiny white house and put the car into park that she even looked in his direction. “Thank you so much for bringing me home.” “My pleasure,” Hardy said simply, smiling and hoping there would be no mention of Cheyenne or her antics. Miracle watched him for several seconds—seconds during which he concluded he’d never wanted to kiss someone more—before she nodded once and reached for the door handle. “Miracle,” Hardy said, stopping her. She turned back to him, an expectant look on her face. “Are you coming to the game tonight?” She made a face that gave him his answer before she even opened her mouth. She wrinkled her nose and bit her lip as if hesitant to tell him no, but planning on it nonetheless. He’d known before he asked what her answer would be. But he had to ask. “I don’t think so.” “It’s just…I thought…it’s just that I’d really love for you to come.” Hardy was silently telling himself to shut up, not to pressure her. But something inside him wanted to see her in the stands so badly, wanted to know she was there so much that he couldn’t stop himself.

“I don’t really know many people yet and after today…” “Please don’t let that upset you,” Hardy said, closing his eyes on the plea. Miracle shrugged. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.” “Don’t know if what’s a good idea?” a small, vaguely familiar voice asked from behind Miracle. Hardy had been so absorbed he hadn’t even noticed the girl, Mila, come out of the house. Miracle turned toward her. “Going to the football game tonight.” Mila’s face lit up. “Oh, I wanna go!” “Mila, I just said I don’t think it’s a good idea.” “But why?” “I just…don’t.” “Please, Miracle. Take me. Pleeeeeeease!” Hardy watched Mila screw up her face as she begged. Miracle sighed. They stared each other down, engaged in a silent struggle Hardy found very interesting. It was obvious that Mila knew exactly which buttons to push in order to get what she wanted. Finally, on a soul-weary sigh, Miracle turned back to Hardy. “I guess I’ll be there.” “We. We’ll be there,” Mila added with a satisfied smile. Miracle rolled her eyes. Hardy couldn’t contain his laugh. It was due in part to their dynamic and Miracle’s frustration. But mostly, it was because he couldn’t remember being so happy with any particular person coming to watch him play football. Not even the scouts. “Awesome. I’m sure I’ll see you in the stands.” “How? You’ll be playing.”

“I’ll find you. Trust me,” Hardy said with a grin. Without another word, he shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb. Better to make his exit while he still had a modicum of dignity intact. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but he knew he’d have to watch himself. Miracle could be dangerous. ******** “Who was that?” Mila asked as she watched Hardy drive away. “Hardy Bradford.” “Hardy,” she repeated in a daze. “Sweet baby Jesus, he’s hot!” Miracle laughed. “You think?” Mila turned to look at Miracle, her mouth open and her eyes disbelieving. “You’re joking, right?” Miracle said nothing, only laughed again. “Let me put it this way, if you don’t kiss him and give me every single sordid detail, I will fashion a noose and hang myself from the ceiling fan in your room. And you know how badly that could turn out. It took me years to learn to tie my shoes.” Miracle laughed again. Mila was fourteen and, not surprisingly, prone to hyperbole and theatricality. Although she was even more petite than Miracle, she was not to be underestimated. She was mature, feisty and extremely intelligent for her age. “Maybe we can practice nooses in the coming weeks then, because he’s dating the most gorgeous, vicious girl in school.” “Which is undoubtedly why he’s already fallen in love with you.”

“That’s the most insane logic I’ve ever heard.” “Insanity is a requirement to live in our house. You know that.” “Good point.” “So, you’re taking me to the game. What are we gonna wear?” “I don’t know about you, but I’m wearing this.” “Uh, no you’re not,” Mila snorted. “You’ll be wearing something of mine. Something that fits.” “And why would I want to do that when I can be much more comfortable in my own clothes?” “Because I want this for you,” Mila said in a rare moment of sentimentality. “I want him for you.” Miracle could feel her heart swell around what her sister was implying and it brought a fresh wash of tears to her eyes. If she died tomorrow, Miracle would die happy, knowing that she was surrounded by the most incredible people the world had to offer. Miracle blinked her eyes several times before she sighed and rolled them dramatically. “Fine. Let’s go play dress up.” Mila squealed, clapping her hands excitedly. Miracle laughed as she watched her bounce down the walkway in front of her. It was worth the next four hours of torture just to see Mila so happy. Miracle knew Mila needed things like this—carefree times, sisterly times, normal times—to add to her abundance of bad memories. There was always the hope that the good would eventually outweigh and eclipse the bad. They all needed some good times.

CHAPTER FOUR Hardy had never been more nervous before a game. Although he was nodding at all the right places as his dad spoke, his mind was already wandering through the crowd, looking for Miracle. “Now, son, you know how important this is. Your dream of playing college and professional football might very well start tonight. Go out there and do your best. Make us proud,” Hardy’s father was saying and, again, Hardy nodded. Wayne Bradford grabbed Hardy by the back of the neck and brought his face in close, searching his eyes. “Head in the game, Hardy. Head in the game.” With great difficulty, Hardy pulled his mind back into the present, back into the locker room. “Yes, sir.” Wayne gently slapped the side of Hardy’s head. “That’s my boy,” he said, seemingly satisfied that Hardy was paying attention. “Go out there and show ‘em how the Bradfords do it.” “Yes, sir.” With that, Hardy’s father exited the locker room to make his way into the stands with Hardy’s mother and much younger brother, Clay, just like he did before every game. Everyone in Hardy’s life stuck to the ritual. Everyone. As the coach gave them his usual pep talk and this could be the game that defines your life speech, Hardy purposed to keep his mind on football and off Miracle. His father was right. His entire academic and professional future could be riding on his performance this year, maybe

even this night. He’d been groomed for this practically his whole life. There was nothing more important to his family, to his father, than Hardy’s future career as a professional football player. And Hardy had never felt the weight of those expectations more than he did tonight. As the Seminoles took the field, Hardy struggled to keep his mind on the game, to keep his eyes out of the stands. He concentrated with all his might. And it worked until the coin toss was over. Then, as she had at the beginning of every game for three years, Cheyenne bounced over to him, pressed her fingertips to her lips and then pressed them to his through his face mask. It was the switch that flipped his mind back over to thoughts of Miracle. After he’d dropped her off, Hardy had driven Cheyenne’s car to school and left it parked so that he could drive his own car home. He’d called her cell to tell her she’d need to get a ride back to school with someone else. She’d been aggravated, but not overly so. She knew he was still angry over what she’d done to Miracle. Despite her apologies and assurances to the contrary, Hardy still felt she’d been out to embarrass Miracle all along, even though she’d had no idea about the scar. She’d have done something else to humiliate her. That was just the way Cheyenne was. And Hardy had had enough. Cheyenne just didn’t know that yet. And neither did his family. Hardy stood still for her display, hating himself for it. The instant she pulled her fingers out of his face mask, he turned away from her, his eyes scanning the hundreds of faces for one in particular. And he found it. Sitting about halfway up, looking directly at him, was

Miracle. Her eyes were alight with the excitement of the crowd and her cheeks were flushed with pleasure. He was certain Cheyenne, arguably the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, had ever looked so amazing. Miracle smiled at him and waved shyly. As always, he was spellbound, raising his hand to return her gesture automatically. He didn’t realize that he’d tuned everything else out until someone smacked the side of his helmet. “Bradford, man you’re up.” Reluctantly, Hardy pulled his eyes away from Miracle and jogged to the huddle. They’d lost the coin toss and the opposing team had opted for getting the ball first in the second half, which meant that Hardy and his offense would have the first opportunity to score. And he had to do exactly that. It was under the watchful gaze of Miracle and the rest of the town that Hardy had the best game of his life. His stats were off the charts and the one time he’d glanced at the scout his father had pointed out—the one time he’d glanced at anyone other than Miracle for that matter—he’d seen him give a nod of approval. One down, six more to go, Hardy thought, hoping he could perform so well in front of every scout that was likely to visit. Football was the key to his future. For Wayne Bradford, it was his chance to live vicariously through his son, to live the life of a professional football player. For Hardy, it was about going to a college that would allow him to pursue his dreams, not everyone else’s. But still, football was the vehicle that would get him there, so in the end, he and his father shared the same goal— impress the scouts, get the scholarship.

Hardy dawdled on the field longer than usual, chatting with everyone who wanted to congratulate him. All the while, he kept an eye surreptitiously trained on Miracle as she descended the stands. When she’d reached the bottom of the bleachers and was making her way toward the exit, Hardy excused himself and jogged to the fence ahead of her. She stopped when she reached him, her eyes sparkling like the gemstone they so closely resembled. “You were incredible.” Hardy was positive no one else’s praise had ever made him feel more alive, more successful, more invincible, more like a winner than Miracle’s. He beamed, not knowing what to say; thank you seemed far too trite. So he just stood there smiling like some sort of brain-dead imbecile. Finally, Miracle chuckled and nodded. “Well, I guess I’ll see you Monday.” That jarred Hardy out of his stupor. “Wait. What are you doing tonight?” “Going home I guess. Why?” “Do you want to come out with us? I mean, do you want to come to a party that one of the other football players is throwing?” Again, Miracle made that face that said she was going to say no even though she dreaded it. Hardy got the feeling she didn’t like to say no. He didn’t think it was because she was spineless. No, hardy fully suspected it was because she was so concerned with other people’s feelings. Miracle was selfless and he’d never met anyone like her. “Um, I don’t think so, but thank you.” “I promise you’ll have fun. It won’t be anything like…”

Hardy hesitated to bring up her earlier pain, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut before he’d even alluded to it. “It’ll be fun. Really,” he said, smiling broadly in hopes of recovering his blunder. Miracle smiled tolerantly. “I appreciate the offer, and I’m sure it’ll be fun, but I think I’m just going to go home.” When Miracle began slowly inching her way forward, Hardy knew there was no changing her mind. He searched for something else to say, for some way of talking her into going, but he couldn’t think of a single thing that might convince her. If she’d suggested something else she’d rather do, he’d have jumped all over it. If it meant spending time with Miracle, Hardy would’ve gone anywhere she wanted to go. But instead, he had to watch her walk away. “Congratulations,” she called back to him before she and her sister disappeared into the crowd. “Thanks,” Hardy said, doubting that she even heard him. He had the ridiculous desire to chase after her, but even as the thought skated tantalizingly through his mind, reality intruded. “You know, I’m beginning to think there’s something going on between you two.” Cheyenne stood behind Hardy, arms crossed over her chest, chin set at an argumentative angle. Hardy sighed, turning to walk away from her. “There is nothing going on between us, Cheyenne. I just can’t be rude and obnoxious to people the way you can.” He didn’t really care if she heard the words he’d tossed over his shoulder or not. “I told you I didn’t know about the scar, Hardy. I didn’t do

it on purpose. I was trying to be nice by inviting her, by including her.” Cheyenne was scrambling to keep up with him. “Yeah, right,” Hardy mumbled under this breath. He didn’t doubt that Cheyenne didn’t know about the scar; how could she? What he did doubt, however, was that she ever had an altruistic motive for anything she did. “Why are you acting like this?” she asked as they neared the field house, her voice dropping into a hushed tone. Hardy turned on her so quickly, she nearly bumped into him. “What the—” “Cheyenne, this was over a long time ago. I think it’s time we make it official.” Hardy was perversely pleased when he saw the blood drain from Cheyenne’s face. He suspected this would be one of the few times in her life she’d be dumped. Did he dread the fall out? A little. Was he shamefully thrilled to get to do it, though? Yes, he was. He wouldn’t have enjoyed it at all if he thought it would actually hurt her, but he knew it wouldn’t. What it would do was bring her down a peg or two, temporarily at least, which was something he felt she and her monstrous ego were in desperate need of. “You can’t be serious.” “Oh, but I am, Cheyenne. Very serious.” “But…but what about your future? Our future? What about this season?” “I can win games without your help, Cheyenne. And you and I both know we never really had a future.” “How can you say that?” “Because it’s true.” “You don’t really believe that.”

“Actually, I do. I don’t know how we’ve lasted this long. I guess I’m a lot more selfish than I thought.” “Do I need to tell you how much you’re going to regret this?” “No. Because I won’t. I feel better already.” Hardy felt his lips curve into a genuine smile of relief and satisfaction. Cheyenne’s eyes narrowed and her lips thinned as she watched him. “This is about her, isn’t it?” “Who?” “Miracle.” “No. It’s about the fact that I’ve hated myself for dating you for almost a year now and I’m over it. I’m done.” “You just keep telling yourself that, Hardy, but you’ll be back. I’m not worried.” Even as the words left her lips, Hardy could see that Cheyenne was very much worried. Unfortunately, he also saw a dark spark of determination light her eyes and it was just enough to give him pause. “Goodbye, Cheyenne.” With that, Hardy turned his back on her and made his way into the field house to shower and change into his new life. ******** Never had a party been less fun. As Hardy wandered aimlessly through the tight crowd of bodies, speaking only when spoken to, he realized that this scene was not one he’d ever really preferred. He’d always gone to parties because Cheyenne wanted to, because all his friends went and, well, because he’d always done it. He’d never been willing to mess up the good thing he had going in his life.

The funny thing was, he had completely deluded himself about the “good thing” part. Hardy leaned against the front door jamb and stared out into the night. He had no interest in being there—at the party. He didn’t see one person he really wanted to talk to, one person he really wanted to spend his Friday evening with. What he really wanted was to see Miracle. And she wasn’t there. As he was making up his mind to leave, Cheyenne came sauntering up the front steps toward the door, toward him. From the fingers of her left hand dangled a small black bag. The smile she wore warned Hardy that she was up to something. She looked far too pleased with herself. When she stopped in front of him, she just stood there swinging the bag. Hardy took the bait. “What’s that?” “I think it’s a camera case, but I can’t be sure. I didn’t open it.” Hardy’s eyes narrowed on Cheyenne. He was immediately suspicious. “Whose is it?” “I don’t know. I found it in my trunk. I don’t know where it came from.” Hardy gritted his teeth. He should’ve known this was how Cheyenne would handle a slap to the ego—with retaliation. Reaching forward, Hardy jerked the strap from her fingertips and unzipped the bag to look inside. Although he didn’t know what kind of camera Miracle used, he knew this one was expensive. And broken. He could see several small pieces of black plastic littering the bottom of the bag. “What did you do to it?” Cheyenne’s lips twisted into a satisfied smirk. “I might

have dropped it when I was getting it out of the trunk. I can’t remember.” Hardy stared at her for several long seconds, reminding himself that he was strictly against strangling a woman. “You know, I hope you realize that this just makes my decision easier.” Cheyenne’s smile faltered. He knew he’d hit his mark. She was so concerned with getting revenge, with hurting Miracle, she hadn’t thought of how her actions might affect her cause. Hardy was convinced there was no longer any chance that Cheyenne might still be a decent person deep down. She was shallow and vapid and vicious and, at that moment, he detested her. Pushing his way past her, Hardy descended the steps and headed for his car. He didn’t want to acknowledge the kernel of pleasure he felt at having a reason to seek Miracle out, the seed of gratitude he felt that she’d left her camera in Cheyenne’s trunk. No, he’d rather deny that. Instead, he focused on getting it back to her and what he would say when he showed up at her door. By the time Hardy pulled up in front of Miracle’s place, he was actually nervous. There were lights on in the tiny house and it was well before eleven on a Friday night. Surely they wouldn’t mind him returning Miracle’s property to her, would they? Getting out of the car and walking the short path to the front door, Hardy wiped his damp palms on his jeans before he knocked. He heard some thumping followed by muted voices before he a stronger, older voice spoke. She was very near the door.

“Mila, I’m not letting you answer the door in your pajamas. Now get back to your room, young lady.” After a short pause, locks clicked and chains slid before the door opened a crack. Hardy looked down into the face of the woman who had to be Miracle’s mother, but looked more like her older twin. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry to visit so late, but I was hoping to speak to Miracle for just a minute if it’s not too much trouble.” Hardy watched Miracle’s mother study him first with a discerning eye and then with a carefully concealed grin. “Sure. Come on in,” she said, stepping back and opening the door further. Hardy stepped inside the small living room, casually taking in his surroundings. While it was obvious there were no designer furnishings in the house, Hardy doubted he’d ever been in a cozier home. He could practically feel the love and happiness and acceptance seeping into his skin. “Have a seat. I’ll get Miracle.” Hardy walked to the comfy-looking sage green sofa and perched on one cushion, letting the camera bag dangle between his knees as he waited. From somewhere down the short hall, he could hear hushed voices and excited whispers. He tried to tune them out, as he’d always felt eavesdropping was rude even if it was unintended. Despite his efforts, some things reached his ears anyway. They made him smile.

He’s so frickin’ hot, Miracle! What’s your problem? He has a girlfriend, Mila. That’s my problem! Then steal him from her, dumbass.

Mila, watch your language! Miracle, you’ve got company. Don’t keep him waiting. After Miracle’s mother spoke, the whispers died off and a door could be heard shutting. Seconds later, Miracle appeared at the edge of the living room. “Hardy, what are you doing here?” she asked politely, the ghost of a smile flirting around the edges of her mouth. Hardy surmised that Miracle was in her pajamas as well, as she wore a thick robe, belted tightly and wrapped snugly around her. He couldn’t help but wonder what her sleeping attire looked like, that it must be so thoroughly hidden from strange nighttime visitors. “Hardy?” Shaking his head to loosen the grip of thoughts of her in skimpy clothing, Hardy cleared his throat before he answered. “Um, it seems you might’ve left your camera in Cheyenne’s trunk,” he said, extending the small black bag he carried toward her. “Omigod, I didn’t even realize I’d left it,” she exclaimed, rushing to Hardy’s side to take the bag. She sat down beside him on the couch and opened the case. Hardy chewed his lip as she lifted the camera out of the bag. He saw her expression fall just as the gasp left her lips. His heart broke for her. “I was going to take some pictures of our Free Friday Afternoon.” “Miracle, I’m so sorry. Cheyenne said she accidentally dropped it when she got it out of the trunk.” Hardy felt dirty and deceitful even repeating such dishonest drivel. Much to his surprise, Miracle smiled. It was small and her lips trembled with the effort, but she did it. “I’m sure she

didn’t mean to,” she choked out, her voice wobbling. “Probably not,” Hardy agreed quietly, feeling all the more wretched when he saw Miracle’s chin quiver. And then he got mad. “No, you know what? I think she did it on purpose. Cheyenne is an unparalleled bitch and I’m sorry that you ever had to meet her.” After his heated explosion, Hardy reverted to just feeling bad for Miracle. “I’m so sorry.” Miracle nodded, but her head remained bowed as she tried to compose herself. Remembering the way she’d spoken of photography and lovingly stroked the case containing her camera, Hardy felt like he’d carried her dead dog to her doorstep rather than a piece of equipment. Just then he saw one fat tear overflow her eyelashes and slide slowly down her left cheek. He could only imagine what a horrible day she’d had. Reflexively, as though he’d done it every day for years, Hardy reached out and wiped it away with the backs of his fingers. Miracle raised her head and smiled a watery smile at him. “I’ll get it fixed for you,” Hardy offered. It was so spontaneous, so organic, it surprised even him. “Until then, we can share mine. Joint custody.” Miracle chuckled, another tear spilling down her cheek. Hardy wiped it away as well. “Just please don’t cry.” Miracle nodded, sniffling. “I know it’s stupid. I just really wanted to take as many pictures as possible this year. And now…” “Now nothing. I told you, you can use mine whenever you like until yours is fixed. I have another one. And I will get yours fixed! It’s partly my fault anyway. I should’ve warned

you about Cheyenne before something like this happened.” Miracle frowned and cocked her head to one side as she considered him. “What?” Hardy asked. Miracle just continued to gaze at him. “What?” he repeated. “How did someone like you end up with someone like her?” Hardy shrugged, both embarrassed and ashamed. “Just stupid I guess.” “No,” Miracle said, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. But I’ll figure it out. Eventually.” Hardy smiled. For some reason he liked the sound of that. It made it seem like they had a future together and that prospect made him extremely happy. Silence stretched between them and, although Hardy could’ve sat staring at Miracle for days, he thought it probably best that he leave. “Well,” he said, standing, “if it’s all right, I’ll take that with me and see about getting it fixed on Monday.” “You really don’t have to do that.” “I know, but I want to.” “No, really, I’d feel terrible.” “Please. It’s the least I can do.” “No, I—” “It will make me feel better. Really. Please?” At that, Miracle searched his eyes and then sighed. “All right, but I’m paying for it. Just let me know how much it is before you give them the go-ahead.” She added the last quickly, leaving Hardy in no doubt that she really didn’t have the money to have it fixed, which made him feel even worse.

“Fine,” he said, having no intention of doing any such thing. He found that he truly wanted to do this for her. As a gift. “And seriously, you can use one of mine until it’s fixed.” Hardy slowly made his way toward the door, reluctant to leave her, but knowing he had to. “Thank you. I really appreciate that, but I can wait. There’ll be other pretty days at the park.” Hardy stopped and turned back to Miracle, who was following close behind him. “Did you have plans to use it this weekend?” Miracle shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about her ruined schedule. “It’s no big deal. Like I said, there will be plenty of other opportunities.” A mental image of her with the red balloon flitted through Hardy’s mind. There were obviously things she really wanted to do and he suspected that many of them had emotional motivations. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d gotten to release a balloon like she’d wanted to do. “I don’t have any plans tomorrow. How ‘bout I meet you there? I’ll bring both cameras so I can get some shots in, too. I’ll get a leg up on my homework.” Miracle’s smile widened and her eyes sparkled with pleasure and interest. At least Hardy hoped that’s what it was—interest. In him. “Seriously?” “Sure.” “Okay. Tomorrow then?” “Tomorrow. What time?” “Eight? Is that too early?” She was so considerate, Hardy had to grin. “No. Eight is fine.”

Hardy left in high spirits. He thought of Miracle all the way home. Never in his life had wanted to kiss a girl so badly.

CHAPTER FIVE Hardy would never admit it, but he’d awakened at 6:07. Despite his inability to go to sleep for thinking of Miracle, he was still up early, practically vibrating with excitement. He relished the idea of getting to spend the whole day with her, even if it was in a public place taking pictures. Time seemed to creep by, so Hardy made a quick trip to the store and was already at the park by 7:30, thinking he’d just wait on her. Only he didn’t have to wait. She was already there. They’d neglected to establish a place to meet, so Hardy thought he’d walk to the bench on which he’d first seen Miracle. Typically, he wasn’t a very sentimental person, but that day, that first moment he’d seen her, was indelibly etched into his memory. When he topped the small hill that led down to the bench under the tree, Hardy stopped in his tracks. There, sitting in a single shaft of early morning sunlight, was Miracle. She was alone. The park was still quiet and empty around her. As usual, she was wearing a peaceful yet hauntingly sad smile as she watched something closely. Hardy followed her gaze and saw two squirrels cavorting at the bottom of a tree. Round and round they went, chasing each other in a spiral pattern first up the trunk and then back down to romp and play around the roots. While they were cute and entertaining, Hardy didn’t find them nearly as fascinating as the girl who watched them. Squatting, careful to make no noise that might alert her to

his presence, Hardy knelt to take his camera from the bag, leaving the case and the other camera lying at his feet. He took pictures of Miracle smiling as the two squirrels frolicked in the dewy grass. He took pictures of her closing her eyes and tilting her face to the sun. He took pictures of her staring off into space, as if deep in thought. And he took pictures of her bowing her head, as if those thoughts were too troubling to face. Hardy watched her for nearly an hour before he realized he was technically late for their meeting. Stowing his camera back in its case, he untied his gift from the strap of the second case and stood to make his way to where Miracle still sat. She must’ve heard his footsteps when he got closer. Miracle’s head jerked toward him and she smiled brightly. Almost too brightly. Hardy knew the instant she made note of what he was carrying. He watched her smile fade and her chin begin to tremble. When he stopped in front of her, he saw the tears shimmering in her beautiful green eyes. “What’s that?” she asked, a slight tremor in her voice. “It’s a gift. For you,” Hardy said, offering her the ribbon attached to the bright red balloon he towed. Miracle reached forward and took the balloon, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered. Hardy was at a loss. He’d thought it would make her happy, not make her cry. Fidgeting with the straps of the two camera bags, he confessed, “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Miracle shook her head, visibly struggling to get a grasp on her emotions. “No, you didn’t. It’s just…it’s so…I’m just

happy. That’s all. It’s very nice of you.” Not knowing what else to do, Hardy moved to sit beside her on the bench. Miracle stared up at the balloon for the longest time before she spoke again. Sliding her eyes to Hardy, she concluded, “You remember me.” Holding her gaze, Hardy nodded. Miracle looked back up at the balloon. “I had kidney cancer. Oncocytoma. They removed my left kidney and were pretty sure that got it all, but I still had to have chemotherapy and some radiation. I was so sick during my treatments I didn’t feel like using my camera. I’d see all these amazing things I wanted to take pictures of, but I never seemed to feel like it. I promised myself that if I lived through the last treatment, I’d bring a red balloon to the park and get a picture of it drifting off into the sky. When I was so sick I could barely hold my head up, I could close my eyes and picture that scene. I think in my head, it was almost like watching my cancer disappear.” Hardy remained silent. There were no words that could express how he was feeling. There was no way to tell her that his heart was breaking for her, that he would rather have taken those chemo treatments himself than for her to have to suffer through them. He knew it sounded absurd, probably was absurd, but in his soul he knew it was true. Somehow, Miracle had shaken him to his core. Although they’d practically just met, Hardy wanted nothing more than to take Miracle in his arms and protect her from the world—from hurt, from illness, from suffering, from disappointment. He wanted to keep her safe and happy, to give her a life free from cares and worries.

Her soft, cool fingers on his arm brought him back to the present. “Thank you,” she said again. The words themselves were simple enough, but in her eyes was a depth of emotion, of gratitude that he couldn’t fathom. She appreciated in a way that most people never would. She appreciated like someone who had nearly lost everything and would never take another day, another breath for granted as long as she lived. She appreciated like someone who had looked death in the eye. And survived. “My pleasure,” Hardy managed to squeeze out past the lump of uncharacteristic emotion in his throat. He watched Miracle dig and claw her way out of the quicksand of bad memories and reach forward for the happiness of the moment, of the now. Her lips curved into a bright smile and her eyes glistened with pleasure. She hopped up off the bench and held out her hand. “Come on. We’ve gotta let this baby go and get some pictures.” Hardy, unable to recover quite as quickly, had to work to find a smile to return. But he did. And then he took her proffered hand and stood to his feet. “Lead the way.” She grinned impishly at him and turned to drag him toward the gazebo. At that moment, Hardy knew he’d follow her anywhere. ******** They were out of film by lunchtime. Hardy had brought six rolls plus the ones already in each camera, but they’d burned through them in no time. The funny thing was, Hardy knew when he developed them there would be very few

shots of Miracle’s balloon floating off into oblivion. Although they’d both snapped a few pictures, the moment had been so poignant they’d spent the majority of the time just watching the balloon rise, each lost in silent thought. Sniffling had brought Hardy’s eyes back to Miracle. Her face was tilted toward the sky and tears were streaming from the corners of her eyes across her temples to wet the hair just beyond. He’d felt uncomfortable staring at her, although he really wanted to, so he’d forced his eyes back to the balloon. But he’d been compelled to do something, anything to give her some comfort, some support, so he’d reached over and grabbed her hand, holding it between them on the bed of the grass. She’d let him hold it for quite a while, long past the time when her sniffles had died off. Hardy could’ve stayed that way forever—sitting with Miracle, holding her hand, staring up into the perfect sky—but the intimacy of the scene had been destroyed by a group of kids with kites that seemed to emerge out of nowhere. Hardy knew exactly how she felt when he heard Miracle sigh. “Wanna go grab some lunch? My treat,” he asked lightly. Even though the morning had been incredibly comfortable, he suddenly found himself nervous. Miracle looked at him solemnly, nearly making his heart stop in disappointment. But then she smiled. “Lunch sounds great, but only if it’s my treat.” “Nope. It’s on me.” “Absolutely not. I used all your film!” Miracle argued. “That’s why I brought it. So it’s still my treat.” Miracle started to argue and Hardy reached out to put his

finger over her lips. It was meant to be a playful gesture. Yes, for Hardy it had the added benefit of being able to touch her, but he really did mean for it to be playful. It quickly turned more serious, however, when Miracle’s eyes met his and he felt her lips relax beneath his finger, parting slightly. Hardy lost awareness of everything around him except for the feel of Miracle’s soft mouth and warm breath against his skin. Slowly, Miracle raised her hand and wound her fingers around his wrist to pull his hand away from her mouth just enough for her to speak. “Then next time it’s my treat. Deal?” As long as there was sure to be a next time, Hardy would’ve agreed to anything. “Deal,” he agreed. “Now, what kind of food do you like?” “Anything and everything. I’m not picky.” At Hardy’s wide smile, Miracle asked, “What?” “It’s just a nice change, that’s all.” “From what?” “From superficial girls who don’t eat. I’d take a girl like you any day.” “Oh,” Miracle said, smiling shyly. “Thank you.” Hardy wanted so badly to reach out and touch her pinkening cheeks. But he didn’t. “How about Mexican food then?” “Sounds good. I love nachos! With extra cheese. And jalapenos.” “Jalapenos? Omigod, I love you!” Hardy exclaimed, rolling his eyes heavenward. “I love spicy food.” “So do I. And I’ve got just the place for you.”

With that, Hardy led Miracle to his car and they sped off to one of Hardy’s family’s favorite restaurants. ******** They’d just ordered their food and were talking about developing their film in the school’s dark room when a deep voice interrupted them. “Who’s your friend, Hardy?” Hardy’s head snapped up to meet his father’s curious eyes. “Um,” Hardy began, clearing his throat. “Dad this is Miracle St. James. She’s new at school. Miracle, this is my father, Wayne Bradford.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Miracle said politely, extending her hand. Wayne gripped it politely and smiled. “Nice to meet you, too, Miracle.” Turning toward his son, Wayne Bradford asked pointedly, “Where’s Cheyenne?” Hardy’s eyes flickered to Miracle uncomfortably before he gave his stilted answer. “We broke up.” A thunderous expression rolled into place over Wayne’s features. “When did this happen?” “Last night.” “Why did this happen? How could you let it happen, Hardy?” Hardy felt his cheeks sting in embarrassment. He’d known his father’s reaction wouldn’t be pleasant; he’d just never thought he’d have to weather it in front of Miracle. His back straightened and his spine steeled a bit more with the knowledge that she was observing the scene. “I didn’t let it happen¸ Dad. I made it happen.” “What?”

“She’s a horrible person and I couldn’t stomach dating her for one more day.” “Hardy, it’s about more than losing your cool after a fight or finding someone else that temporarily strikes your fancy,” Wayne said, glancing quickly at Miracle and back. “She was part of your future. She was good for you, good for your career.” “I’m not gonna date someone because they’re good for my career, Dad.” “Well, you’d better think long and hard about that, son, because your entire future is riding on how you play this season. And you know as well as I do that Cheyenne was a big part of that.” With a curt nod to Miracle, Wayne Bradford stormed off. Hardy watched the door for a long time after his father disappeared before he found the courage to meet Miracle’s eyes. When he did, he didn’t see anger or hurt feelings; he saw pity. “Sorry about that. My dad’s a little…um…fanatical about football.” “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. He obviously just wants what’s best for you.” Hardy looked at Miracle, shaking his head. “How do you do that?” “Do what?” “Manage to see the good in people. Even the ones who don’t deserve it.” Miracle shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because I look for it.” After a short pause, Miracle cocked her head to one side and considered Hardy. “I take it you don’t see much good in him.”

A bitter bark of laughter escaped before Hardy could stop it. “No, not too much.” “What is it that you see?” Hardy met Miracle’s hypnotic eyes and, before he knew it, he was spilling his guts. “I see a man who didn’t get to live his dream and feels like he had to settle in life. I see a man who is determined to see his son live that dream, whether it’s his dream or not. I see a man who will put aside the desires of everyone in his life if he thinks he knows what’s best. I see a man who won’t stop until he gets what he wants, no matter who it hurts.” When the bitter acid spewing from Hardy’s lips had come to an end, he sat back in his chair, stunned that he’d voiced so many of his private thoughts to a veritable stranger. Miracle was still watching him, less with pity now and more with a quiet understanding. It felt to Hardy as though the doors of his soul had opened up to her, without his permission, letting her see everything that made him hate who he was, what he came from. He held his breath as he waited for the judgment to come. But it didn’t. In her eyes, he saw only acceptance. And it was like a soothing balm to a life full of superficial people who wanted nothing more than to take from him—take and take and take. Not Miracle, though. Looking at her, Hardy knew she wasn’t a taker. She was a giver. Despite all that she’d been through, it was plain to see when he looked into her eyes that she would give anything of herself to help someone else, even if that someone else was him.

“I think you’re too hard on yourself,” was all Miracle said before she cast her eyes down to the plate the waitress set down in front of her. Just before Hardy took his first bite of food, he looked up to see Miracle grinning over the loaded nacho she held pinched between her fingertips. She licked her lips dramatically and pushed the whole chip into her mouth. Hardy chuckled. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” Since Miracle couldn’t talk around her mouthful of food, she giggled and put her two thumbs up, winking at Hardy as she chewed. Hardy was positive he’d never been more attracted to another person in his entire life. ******** On the drive back to the park after lunch, Hardy racked his brain trying to think of ways to prolong the day, to prolong his time with Miracle. He was out of film, out of reasons to stay at the park and out of ways to casually remain in her presence. The thought of asking her out terrified him, though. He didn’t want to give her reason or opportunity to reject him because then he’d have to back off. And Hardy didn’t want to back off. Not by a long shot. By the time they arrived back at the park, back at Miracle’s car, Hardy was no closer to finding the perfect excuse not to let her go. Luckily for him (unfortunately for her), he no longer needed one. It was obvious as they approached that something was wrong with the car. Miracle’s little blue Civic listed noticeably to one side. Both tires on the driver’s side were flat. Although Hardy would never have wanted for something like this to be the reason he’d get to stay with Miracle a little

longer, he couldn’t bring himself to be completely upset about it. Until he saw Miracle’s face. She was visibly devastated. He heard her gasp before she reached up to cover her mouth. Then he heard her muffled Omigod right before she buried her face in her hands. “What is it?” “My mom’s gonna kill me,” Miracle mumbled from behind her fingers. “How could this happen to both tires?” Hardy’s mood quickly went from pleased to be able to spend more time with Miracle, to upset because she was upset, to fury over what had likely happened to her car. Banging his fist on the steering wheel, Hardy let out a growl as he came to a screeching halt, slammed the gearshift into park and leapt out of the vehicle. He stomped over to Miracle’s car and bent to look first at the rear tire and then moved forward to the front one. There was a nail in both. If the nails had been in the tread, he could almost see that it might’ve been an accident, something Miracle had run over. But these nails were more toward the rim, in a place where it would be virtually impossible to get an object lodged accidentally. And that meant it was purposeful. Only one culprit that came to mind—Cheyenne. Straightening, Hardy growled again, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. When he spun around, he nearly toppled Miracle who had come to stand behind him as he inspected the tires. She jumped back to get out of his way, losing her footing in the loose gravel. Before she could fall, however, Hardy’s

snake-like reflexes kicked in and he grabbed her. Wrapping his fingers around her upper arms, Hardy hauled Miracle forward until she was crushed against his chest with no fear of going backward. Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted as she looked up at him. Instantly, the tires were forgotten. All Hardy could see was Miracle. All Hardy could hear was the sound of her breath whispering through her lips. All Hardy could smell was the hint of lavender that wafted up from her hair. All Hardy could feel was her stomach pressed to his. He watched her pupils dilate just before her eyes flickered to his mouth and back again. A battle waged within Hardy—to kiss her or not to kiss her. He wanted to. Badly. But did he want their first kiss to be when she’d just discovered that his bitchy ex-girlfriend had likely sabotaged her vehicle? No. No, he didn’t. So it was with great determination and a heartfelt sigh that Hardy righted Miracle and then released her to step back. Shoving both hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for her again, Hardy cleared his throat. “Well, the good news is that there’s a nail in both tires and a hole like that should be easy to patch, which means you won’t need new tires.” Miracle exhaled, putting a hand to her chest. “Oh, thank God.” A few seconds later, much calmer, she turned questioning eyes to Hardy. “Um, so what now? I mean…” “I’ve got a pump in my trunk. Why don’t we see if they’ll hold air long enough to get us to Tire World, okay?” Miracle shrugged and smiled. “Sounds like a plan.” Hardy got the pump and, much to his relief, the tires held

the air he put in. “Why don’t you give me your keys and I’ll drive your car there. You can follow me in mine. That way, if anything happens, it’ll happen to me and not you.” Hardy thought his suggestion made perfect sense. Not for one second did he ever consider letting Miracle drive a vehicle with tires that could blow out at a moment’s notice. If something happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. In fact, the possibility made him shudder. Miracle’s brilliant smile told Hardy that his offer both surprised and pleased her. “Thank you, Hardy. I would really appreciate that.” For the third time since meeting her, Hardy felt blood warm his cheeks. What was she doing to him? “It’s, uh, it’s no trouble,” he stammered uncomfortably. The way she was looking at him made him feel like some sort of hero, when all he’d done was offer to drive her car. They exchanged keys and Miracle followed Hardy into town to Tire World. She parked and went in with him and, even though it was her car, he did all the talking. When he’d made arrangements to have the tires patched and for them to text his cell phone when they were finished, Hardy put his hand on Miracle’s lower back and guided her toward the door. When she handed him his car keys, she was frowning. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You really didn’t have to do that.” “Do what?” “Take care of all that for me.” “It was no problem. Really,” Hardy replied casually, opening the passenger side door for her.

Once he’d slid behind the wheel, Miracle continued. “I can take care of myself you know.” She wasn’t sharp or nasty when she said it; she sounded more wounded than anything. “I know you can. Why would I think you couldn’t?” Miracle shrugged, a frown pinching the skin between her eyes. “Because I’ve been sick.” Pieces started clicking together and Hardy could’ve kicked himself. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner? “Miracle, I have no doubt you can take care of yourself. None whatsoever. I only did that because I wanted to take care of it for you. Not because you couldn’t. You deserve to have someone do things like that for you. And…” Hardy trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed. When Hardy had been silent for nearly a minute, Miracle prompted him. “And what?” Hardy couldn’t meet her eyes. He was afraid she’d see too much. “And what?” she asked again. “And I want to be the one to do them for you.” There was a long pause, during which Hardy dared not look at Miracle. But then she was grabbing his face and pressing her lips to his, and his world exploded.

CHAPTER SIX Miracle’s lips on his felt like fire of the best kind. They were soft and plump and he felt the pressure of them all the way down to his stomach. He was so stunned that, at first, he did nothing. He just sat there. But then she started to pull away and his desire to have her near kicked in. Boy, did it kick in. Before she could completely break the contact, Hardy raised one big hand and slid it into the hair at the back of her head, holding her mouth to his. Angling his head, Hardy parted his lips until he felt Miracle’s warm breath enter his mouth. Unable to stop himself, Hardy slipped his tongue past her lips, desperate to savor her, to savor every second of their kiss. She tasted like sugar and sunshine, like she took in the best of everything around her and made it her own. It was like sipping nectar and Hardy was certain he could never get enough. When her tongue touched his, Hardy felt his body become rock hard. She was tentative at first, her tongue tangling with his, running slowly along its length. She was tasting him as he was tasting her and the knowledge made him ache—ache to feel her weight on him as she explored his body, ache to roll her onto her back and lick every inch of her satin skin, ache to make her his and never share her with another. When Hardy felt her fingers slide into his hair, he was lost. He moved his hands down her back to her tiny waist

and he lifted until she was practically sitting in his lap. His hands roamed up and down her leg, caressing her thigh and the curve of her hip. In all his years, as hormonal as teenage boys could be, he had never wanted someone so much. He was sure of it. And he wanted her in every way, not just physically. He wanted to hold her and protect her, to make her smile and to dry her tears. He wanted to comfort her and please her, to make her feel safe and loved. And, of course, he wanted to make love to her for hours, to know her body as well as he knew his own. But not like this. Not in the front seat of a car. Reluctantly moving his hands up to either side of her face, Hardy held Miracle still while he leaned back, breaking the contact. He felt the loss immediately, poignantly, and he nearly started kissing her again. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned his forehead against hers while they both caught their breath. Hardy’s head was reeling. His first coherent thought was of how soft Miracle’s skin was. He was absently rubbing his thumbs back and forth over her cheekbones. When he leaned back to look into her eyes, he didn’t care that he might be wearing his heart on his sleeve. He wasn’t sure he cared about anything in the world as much as he cared about the girl in his lap. Miracle looked up into his eyes, the green like drops of liquid emerald that begged for him to get lost in their depths, and then she smiled. It was a slow, tentative curve of her lips that ended in a brilliant display of happiness. It shined from her face like a thousand watt bulb. And it took his breath away. “What are you doing to me?” he asked softly, touching

his lips to hers for the briefest, sweetest of kisses. “The same thing you’re doing to me,” she answered, equally softly, reaching forward to run her index finger along his lower lip. Hardy could’ve held her like that for days and he thought she might have let him, but they were interrupted in the worst possible way. The prolonged blaring of a horn caused both Hardy and Miracle to look out the driver’s side window. There, stopped on the road that ran in front of the tire place, was Elise with Cheyenne in her little red convertible. They were both flipping Hardy and Miracle the bird. They laughed boisterously as Cheyenne punched the gas to speed away. The words Suck it! drifted on the wind back to Hardy and Miracle. “I guess that’s a little much to be considered coincidence, huh?” Miracle asked, pushing away from his chest to slip back into her seat. “There was no doubt in my mind.” “Well, I was thinking it was possible that I ran over—” “No,” Hardy interrupted. “It’s not. I know she did this and I’m so sorry.” Miracle shrugged. “Don’t be. It’s no skin off my nose.” Hardy let his temple fall against the head rest as he watched Miracle. “My god, you really are amazing.” Miracle said nothing, but Hardy saw a flush of pink suffuse her cheeks. He couldn’t help but smile. “No, not really. While my tires are getting fixed, I got to make out with a hot guy. What do I have to complain about?” Hardy laughed. “You did?” Miracle nodded, a

mischievous grin curving her lips. “With a hot guy, huh?” Again she nodded. “Anyone I know?” “You might recognize him. He has short brown hair and the most amazing stormy blue-gray eyes I’ve ever seen. His smile is addictive and his arms are strong. And he’s one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. Does any of that sound familiar?” Hardy wrinkled his brow and rolled his eyes upward as if in thought. “Um, not really.” “No? Well, he’s also an incredibly talented football player. He’s smart and he’s got a great artistic eye,” she continued. “Oh and did I mention he rocks a killer six pack?” At that, Hardy threw back his head and laughed. “Now, don’t be a hater,” she playfully chastised. “I mean, he’s pretty frickin’ awesome. He’s even an amazing kisser. That’s a lot to compete with.” “Yeah, it is. Does he leap tall buildings in a single bound?” “I don’t think so. And I sure hope he doesn’t have x-ray vision,” Miracle teased, holding her hands over her chest. Hardy laughed again, not able to remember the last time someone had so thoroughly captivated him. “Wow,” he said, feeling the warmth of her charm and presence spreading through his entire body. “Just…wow!” Miracle giggled enchantingly and then changed the subject. “So, what should we do while the tires are getting patched?” “Hmm.” Hardy knew better than to mention what he wanted to do, so instead he went with a viable option. “We could always go develop some of our pictures in the dark

room at the school.” “Um, won’t it be closed?” “Yes, but I have a key,” Hardy said, waggling his eyebrows. “Are you serious? Did you steal it?” Miracle asked in an irreverent whisper, clearly surprised by that kind of crazy bravado. “No,” Hardy snorted. “If I was gonna steal something from the school, it definitely wouldn’t be the key to the dark room.” “What would it be then? What would be worth stealing?” “I don’t know,” he said, frowning in his pensiveness before he grinned wickedly. “Maybe the heart of the school’s most beautiful damsel. Or at the very least, her virtue.” Miracle blushed furiously then proceeded to blatantly ignore his comment. “Then how did you get the key?” His thoughts returning to a more serious nature, Hardy sighed and rolled his eyes. “My dad is sort of a big deal to some people, which makes them treat me a little differently.” “A big deal?” Hardy shrugged. “Yeah, he’s on the Board at the hospital and he’s on the Town Council. He donates to the Sheriff’s Department and the State Police. Florida State University, too. If there’s an important ass to kiss somewhere, he’s kissing it.” “So you’re saying you could get away with murder and no one would say a word?” “Pretty much. Why? Are you thinking of murdering someone?”

Miracle laughed, a delicate tinkling that made Hardy inordinately proud to have said something to trigger it. He got the distinct impression that Miracle hadn’t had many reasons to laugh. “No, but I always like to keep my options open.” She winked at Hardy and his smile was instant. “Smart girl.” “Not really. You’re just used to the all-beauty, no-brains type,” she teased. “Ouch!” Hardy kidded in return. “While that might have been the case, you can’t find fault with my ‘type’ now. You’ve got beauty and brains. The perfect girl.” Miracle blushed again and they fell into a comfortable silence. Finally, Hardy turned the key to start the engine. “So, to the school then? Show me your mad skills?” “You’re on, Bradford. Lead the way.” With that, Hardy shifted into drive and guided his car out of the parking lot and back through town toward the school. ******** An hour later, Hardy and Miracle were both working diligently to develop the pictures they’d taken. Hardy learned that Miracle preferred black and white photos in most cases, which worked out perfectly. Hardy was hyper aware of Miracle as she moved about the tiny room, expertly handling both paper and solutions. He wondered if she could feel the electricity of their attraction crackling in the air between them like he could. He felt it on his skin. It prickled with awareness of her, with the desire to feel her body pressed to his again. As distracted as he was by her presence, Hardy was genuinely surprised that he didn’t screw something up.

When they were finished with the first two rolls, Hardy leaned back against the wall and looked out at the rows and rows of their photos hanging from the lines stretched across the room. Miracle moved to do the same, crossing her arms over her chest in a mirror image of his pose. She looked up at him and grinned impishly. He clenched his fingers into tight fists to keep from reaching for her. Purposely turning his attention away from Miracle, Hardy looked at the row of her pictures. At first, he simply noted that she’d taken photographs of many of the same scenes and people he had. He reasoned that it was no doubt due to their close proximity, the limited number of places they’d gone and similar things they’d observed. But then he really started to look at them. Pushing himself away from the wall, Hardy crossed to the string of images and more closely examined them. “Miracle, these are amazing,” he said, surprised at finding himself in awe of her work. Hardy stopped first in front of the image of a woman walking her dog. Hardy’s picture had shown a great use of light, as he’d snapped the shot when the wind had blown a tree and dappled her face with the shadow of the leaves. His photo was visually stimulating and balanced. But Miracle’s picture, it was amazing. She’d caught the woman when the sun was full and bright on her face. It shone in the black of her hair and in the glitter of her lip gloss, and was every bit as visually stimulating as Hardy’s, just in a different way. But Miracle’s image told a story. Hardy hadn’t even noticed how melancholy and distracted the woman seemed. Not until now, as he saw her through Miracle’s eyes.

Her head was slightly bent and a small frown creased the skin of her forehead. Her eyes were in shadow, but her mouth said it all. There was a sadness that hovered around it that Miracle had managed to capture in such a way that it actually tugged at Hardy’s heart. And that wasn’t the only one. Every picture Hardy looked at, he recognized from the park, but he hadn’t really seen any of the people Miracle had seen, not in the way she had. She captured perfectly the awe on a little girl’s face when a butterfly lit on her outstretched finger. She had captured the absolute tranquility of an older man doing yoga on a mat in the shade. She had captured the unfettered glee of a couple that had just made a promise to spend the rest of their lives together. She’d taken shots of his visage as he looked up from his knees into the face of the woman he loved, asking her for her hand. She’d taken shots of her face as she laughed and cried her answer. And she’d taken shots of their exuberant embrace after they’d sealed the deal with a kiss. Hardy could practically feel their excitement. When he turned back to her, the words he’d intended to say died on his lips. Miracle was looking past him, studying one of her pictures, an intensely bereft expression on her face. She raised her eyes to his and he felt his heart lurch in his chest. “What? What is it?” he asked, crossing back to her and taking her face in his hands. He found himself desperate to fix whatever had put that look on her face. For several long seconds, Miracle stared up into Hardy’s face, her luminous eyes glistening with the whisper of unshed tears. When she finally spoke, Hardy had to strain

to hear her small voice. “I don’t want to die.” Hardy’s heart split wide open. “What?” He felt like his entire world had stopped and was completely focused on her words. She was dying? “I don’t want to die,” she repeated, her voice trembling. “I want to live. I want to live life with all its emotions, all its experiences. I don’t want to miss anything. But I feel like I will. I feel like I’m living on borrowed time.” “Why would you even say that?” Hardy’s pulse pounded painfully in his throat, thumping loudly in his ears. He had no idea why, but he felt in a near panic just talking about Miracle’s death. “I’ve had cancer. And now I only have one kidney. Do you know how the future looks for someone like me?” Hardy had no idea what to say. All he knew was that he would do anything in his power to keep that from happening. He had no idea what that could be; he just knew he’d do anything. But now, right this minute, he desperately needed to make her smile, to take away her sadness and worry. “You’re not gonna die. I won’t let you.” “You won’t?” “Nope. I forbid it and that’s that.” Miracle chuckled, giving him a watery smile. “You can control things like that, huh?” Hardy smiled, but then the seriousness of what she was saying and what he was feeling wiped it from his face. “I know we just met and I know this is gonna sound crazy, but if I could fix it, I would. I’d do anything to never have to see you sad or worried again.”

“Then maybe you should run. Fast!” Hardy dipped his head the slightest bit to look straight into her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” Miracle searched Hardy’s eyes, looking for some evidence that he was exaggerating or just feeding her some kind of line, but she found nothing but sincerity. And something else, something deeper. Reaching up, she wound the fingers of both hands around his wrists. “Why do I believe you?” she whispered. “Because I’m telling you the truth,” he replied softly. Hardy watched Miracle’s eyes flicker between his mouth and his eyes and, as if physically touched by her perusal, his lips tingled in response. When her eyes returned to his and held his gaze, he saw something wonderful and lifechanging in them, something he never wanted to let go, never wanted to live without. Her lips parted for a moment to allow a tiny sigh to escape. Hardy felt her warm breath skate over his cheeks and he knew he had to taste her again. Just one more time. Or a thousand. Still lightly cupping her face, Hardy bent his head until his lips met hers. They were soft and pliant, ready. Eager. He parted his and she did the same. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and hers met his, stroking it sensually, driving him mad. He drew it into his mouth and sucked on it gently. She moaned. It was his undoing. Sliding his hands into her hair, Hardy tilted his head and deepened the kiss, crushing her mouth beneath his. She showed no fear, no hesitation. She simply met him, fire with fire, and they spiraled into passion together. Hardy felt her lean forward, her supple body straining

against his bigger, harder one. He moved his hands down her arms and around her narrow waist, pulling her lower body in snugly against his. She drove her fingers into his hair and fisted them, holding his face to hers. Hardy had never felt such an intense connection to someone before. Never. The way he already felt about her should’ve been his first clue that their physical attraction would have no match, no equal. In all his life—past, present and future—Hardy knew he would never find another person that set his body, his heart and his soul on fire the way Miracle did. Out of his mind with desire, Hardy slipped his hands beneath Miracle’s baggy shirt. He let them roam up and down her back, sliding his fingers beneath her bra strap and then back down to her waist to slip them just inside the band of her jeans. Then he moved them around to her stomach. And he felt her flinch. Hardy froze a second before Miracle pulled away, putting distance between her body and Hardy’s hands. Her cheeks were flushed with desire, but her downcast eyes were clearly hiding embarrassment. “Miracle, I’m sorry. I got carried away. I’ve never…I mean I wouldn’t…I didn’t mean to…” he stammered, wishing he knew what to say to make her not look like she wanted to run and hide. “It’s okay. Really. I should probably go,” she said hurriedly, turning to reach for her purse. “I’d say they’re done with the tires by now.” Hardy had no idea what to say, how to make whatever he’d done right. He wasn’t sure if he scared her with his runaway ardor or what. She’d seemed as caught up in the

moment as he had, at least at first. Whatever it was, he wanted to rectify it, but she seemed anything but willing to talk. For that reason and that reason alone, he simply let it go. For now. “Okay. I’ll come back and get these later.” Without a word, he followed Miracle out, locked up behind them, and then walked silently beside her to his car. Hardy tried to keep up some small talk on the way back to Tire World, but Miracle was merely polite, not really taking part in the conversation, much less moving it forward. When they arrived, Hardy paid for the repairs and got the keys to Miracle’s car. He walked her to it then unlocked and opened the door before handing her the keys. “Miracle, I’m really—” “Thank you so much for doing this. I will totally pay you back.” “I told you I don’t want you to pay me back,” Hardy said, unable to hide his frown. “Regardless, I will be paying you back.” “Miracle, look, if this is about before—” “Please don’t say anything else. Don’t make it worse. Let’s just call it a day, okay? I’ve had a really good time and I really appreciate you letting me borrow your camera.” With that, she slid behind the wheel and waited pointedly for him to move away from the door so she could close it. With a sigh of frustration, he obliged. She quickly started the car, tossed him a tight smile with her wave goodbye and then drove away. Hardy was confounded. And very aggravated with himself for his loss of control. He’d gotten the sense from

the first time he’d seen her that Miracle was delicate. In every way. Why had he not been able to control himself? He’d never had problems with control before. Was it just that she brought it out in him, that he wanted her that badly? As he considered it, he realized that’s exactly what it was. He’d never wanted someone so badly. Ever. And so completely, too. He wanted her heart, her body, her mind. He just wanted to watch her, to listen to her, to just stand in her presence. Just being with her made him feel more alive than he’d ever felt. She made him feel everything— deeply, richly, intensely—and she did it effortlessly. But how could he tell her that without scaring her away? Questions swirled through Hardy’s mind as he let himself back into the dark room to collect the pictures they’d developed. He was once more amazed by the emotional depth she conveyed through her photographs. As he reached for the undeveloped rolls, he found himself wondering what else Miracle had seen that he hadn’t, what other insight into her he might gain from looking at them, by seeing what she saw. Rolling up his sleeves, Hardy set about developing her last roll of film. He was possibly more confused than ever to discover that she’d somehow managed to take a whole slew of pictures of him without him ever noticing. And what she had captured surprised even him. Once they were all dry, Hardy packed up the pictures and left, locking the dark room behind him again. In thinking of the photos as he made his way to his car, he couldn’t help but feel exposed, like Miracle had seen things he hadn’t wanted her to see, hadn’t wanted anyone to see. All the way to his house, he pondered her insight, her ability to

really see the world, to really see people. Hours later, Hardy was lying on his bed, looking at the pictures again. He’d become more and more unsettled by them. The longer he studied them, the more desperately he felt he needed to see Miracle. He didn’t have any fear that she’d tell anyone what she believed she saw in the photographs, or that she’d somehow make them public. He didn’t even worry that she’d judge him. Intuitively, he knew she wasn’t like that. Deep down, though, he worried that she would discover she didn’t like who he was, like he didn’t like who he was, and that she would refuse to see him anymore. That’s what worried him. It wasn’t until he was standing once more in front of Miracle’s front door at a nearly-indecent hour that he realized it might not make the best impression on her or her family. But try as he might, he just couldn’t talk himself into leaving. He just knew he needed to see her. He wasn’t really clear as to why; he just knew he did. He was already ringing the bell before he could give it more thought. Miracle’s mother was smiling wryly when she opened the door this time. “Mr. Bradford. Are you going to be making a habit of this?” Hardy had the good grace to blush as he stammered for a reasonable reply, one that was determined to evade him. “Well, in that case, you’d better call me Kelly,” she said, stepping back from the door to allow him to pass. “Come on in.” Hardy smiled and stepped into the living room, holding tightly the stack of photos he carried. Kelly gestured for him to sit, but he remained standing as she called to Miracle.

“What?” came the loud reply. “Come out here,” Kelly instructed. She said more softly to Hardy, “I bet she had her music on and didn’t hear the bell.” Seconds later, Miracle came wandering into the living room. The instant she saw Hardy, she stopped dead in her tracks.

CHAPTER SEVEN Hardy couldn’t look away from her, even though he knew he should. He was almost dumbstruck as his eyes traveled the length of her. Miracle was wearing tiny pink shorts and a tank top, and while Hardy had seen her very briefly in a bikini, he’d been so concerned for her at the time, he’d paid little attention to the details. But this, this was something different. He could plainly see what her loose-fitting clothing concealed. And far from Cheyenne’s assessment of her physique, Miracle was built very much like a woman. As his eyes made their way back up from her bare feet, Hardy took note of every detail. Her toenails were painted dark red. Her legs were long and smooth and perfectly shaped. They made his abs contract, his first thought being of them wrapped around his waist. A flat stomach gave way to high, plump breasts and gently rounded shoulders. Hardy’s eyes finally made their way up Miracle’s graceful neck to the face that had haunted him since the day he’d first seen it. The delicate skin of her cheeks was stained pink with either pleasure or embarrassment. Hardy couldn’t tell which. The color only deepened when Kelly cleared her throat loudly, drawing both his and Miracle’s gaze toward her. She raised her brows and, without saying a word, effectively told them to watch themselves. Hardy silently applauded her aptitude for nonverbal communication. He got her message loud and clear.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” she said pointedly, slowly turning to make her exit. When she’d disappeared from sight and could be heard banging around in the kitchen, Hardy finally let his eyes drift back to Miracle. It had taken all the willpower he could muster not to gawk at her any more than what he had while her mother was in the room. But now that his head was a bit clearer, he knew that, considering the way he’d spooked her that afternoon, he needed to watch his step. Keeping his eyes carefully trained on her face, Hardy spoke. “I wanted to bring your pictures by.” As if noticing for the first time that Hardy held something, Miracle’s eyes dropped to his hands and her lips curved into a smile. “Oh. Thank you.” She reached for them, but Hardy held them away from her grasp. “There was something I wanted to ask you.” Miracle looked like a skittish colt—slightly distrusting and ready to bolt. “O-kay.” “I developed your last roll.” Blood rushed back into Miracle’s cheeks and she lowered her eyes. “That’s not a question.” Hardy wondered if she hadn’t intended for him to see that she’d photographed him. Was she embarrassed? Or had she seen something that made her uncomfortable? Had she seen too much? There was only one way to find out. Pulling one image out, Hardy held it up and asked, “What do you see?” The picture was of Hardy in profile. He remembered that he’d been staring at an artist, a painter specifically, who’d set up his canvas on the other side of the park. He was just

then getting out his paints and brushes. Although he had yet to begin painting, tranquility and happiness radiated from him in waves that Hardy had no trouble perceiving, even from such a distance. Miracle looked at the picture and then met Hardy’s eyes. “I see someone who is afraid of giving up the only dream that will make him happy because he’s too busy doing what everyone else wants him to do.” And she was right. Hardy had been envious of the painter’s simple pursuit of his passion. Very envious. In that moment, he’d wished his life could be so clear cut, his passion so unopposed. He hadn’t realized that his face so truly reflected his thoughts in that brief moment in time. But it had. And Mercy had caught it on film. Perfectly. Sliding that picture back into the pile, Hardy pulled out another. “And this one?” Miracle studied it briefly. “You look…content. Happy. Like your heart is bursting.” Hardy remembered the moment precisely. That’s exactly what he had felt—as though his heart was bursting. Even looking at the image of it, he could feel the swelling of emotion in his chest. Just before she’d clicked the shutter, Hardy had been watching Miracle’s face glow after she photographed a single rose petal that had somehow made its way into the center of a sunny spot in the park. There were no flowers within sight. It was as though the petal had been planted there just for her enjoyment. And she did enjoy it. After she took a single snapshot of it, she’d picked it up and held it to her nose, inhaling so deeply it seemed she thought she

might be able to absorb it. She’d carried it with her most of the morning, sniffing it occasionally. Without thought. As Hardy had watched her enjoy that rose petal, he’d been struck once more by how amazing she was, how she appreciated things in a way he’d never been exposed to before. He was in awe of her and found himself anxiously awaiting the next thing that would capture her attention. He thought he’d be happy to just be with her. All the time. Just watching her. “Do you remember what you were looking at? What made you feel that way?” Miracle asked. Hardy shook his head noncommittally, avoiding her eyes. “Nah, not really.” He hated to lie, but he had yet to figure out what he was feeling for Miracle. The last thing he needed was to blurt out some crazy nonsense that might scare her away. Clearing his throat, Hardy took the picture from her fingertips and exchanged it for another. “And this one?” During their walk through the park, Hardy and Miracle had stumbled upon a group of Peewee cheerleaders that had made Hardy think of Cheyenne, his supposed “good luck charm.” Hardy’s father had always been convinced that luck had everything to do with football. He believed that if you found something that worked and stuck with it, the outcome would be inevitable. According to Wayne Bradford, Cheyenne had her place in Hardy’s luck and he’d always drilled into Hardy’s brain the importance of keeping her around. For that reason, he would be the one person sure to find fault with Miracle. Seeing him at the restaurant had only confirmed that.

Now, as Hardy looked at his own face in the picture, he relived the tornado of emotions those thoughts had stirred up inside him. “I see turmoil. Lots of turmoil. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I can see it.” Miracle’s brow was wrinkled, almost as though she was feeling what he’d felt during the split second that photo had been taken. He hoped she couldn’t feel it. Not really. Miracle had undoubtedly had more than her fair share of rough days. He wanted to bring her sunshine and laughter, not more of the same. “Why do you hide?” Her question took him by surprise. “What?” “Why do you hide?” she repeated. Hardy frowned. “I don’t hide.” “But you do,” she said, taking a step closer to him. She tilted her head to the side as she studied him. “What are you afraid of?” Although he knew there was no way she could know, Hardy felt his hackles rise in response to her line of questioning. “The only thing I’m afraid of is your twisted insight,” he said glibly, deflecting. “Next time you decide to take my picture, I’d appreciate a heads up.” With that, Hardy handed Miracle the pictures. He ignored the way the stunned and hurt expression on her face tugged at his heart and he turned toward the door. “See you at school.” And then he left. ******** Hardy was feeling prickly and disgruntled on the trip home. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d reacted as he had to

Miracle, but her insight left him unsettled. He wasn’t used to people seeing the real Hardy. Not even those closest to him, much less a veritable stranger. Only Miracle didn’t feel like a stranger. She felt more like the missing piece of his soul, a piece he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing. Distracted by his unhappiness over the way he’d left things with her, Hardy was paying little attention to his surroundings when he walked through the front door. He jumped when his father’s booming voice interrupted his musings. “Hardy! Get in here!” An old, familiar dread pooled in the pit of his stomach. Hardy’s thoughts immediately shifted from Miracle to the remembered fear. He had to remind himself that he had nothing to fear, that he wouldn’t allow his father to hurt him anymore. Not him, not his mother, not his brother. He’d come too far to regress now. “Sir?” Hardy answered respectfully as he stepped into his father’s study. Wayne Bradford stood from behind his desk, but didn’t walk around it. He simply placed his tented fingertips on the glossy mahogany surface and leaned forward. “Where have you been?” His ire crackled in the air around his head like a fiery halo. Hardy knew the look, knew the tension all too well. He was loaded for bear and ready to fight. “Taking part of an assignment to a girl from class,” Hardy said vaguely, hoping to avoid a confrontation while his father was in such a state. Wayne huffed, one brow rising knowingly. “I hope you’re

not giving that poor girl any false hope.” Hardy didn’t have to ask to whom his father was referring; he knew. “I’m not giving anybody anything, Dad.” “Good, because there’s only room for one girl in your future and you know as well as I do who she is.” Hardy wanted to argue, but the look on his father’s face gave him pause. “I know,” Hardy agreed docilely. He had to pick his battles wisely and this was one best fought at a later time. Wayne narrowed his eyes on Hardy’s face, watching him silently, intently for several seconds before he relaxed somewhat, lowering himself back into his seat. “Good,” he said, bowing his head dismissively as he turned his attention back to his work. Hardy let out a sigh of relief, turning to make his way up the stairs. It irked him that his father could still intimidate him so quickly, so thoroughly. Old habits die hard. When he reached the top of the steps, he was surprised to find Clay peeking around the corner. Although he was a tall, fairly big kid for fourteen, the fear on his face made him look particularly small. “What are you doing?” Hardy took note of the alarm in Clay’s wide chocolate eyes. “I heard him and Mom fussing about you earlier. When I heard him yell for you, I thought…” An invisible fist squeezed Hardy’s heart. With every bit of effort he could muster, he smiled, wrapping his arm around his brother’s neck and playfully scrubbing the top of his head. Hardy put on his best everything-is-all-right tone. “It’s all good, li’l man.”

Clay said nothing, but Hardy knew by his failure to complain about both the nickname and the headlock that Clay had been pretty worried. “Did you and Cheyenne really break up?” Hardy could see the anxiety in Clay’s eyes. He was a smart kid and old enough to know the ramifications. “Since when did my love life become so interesting? What about yours? Last I heard, you were still breaking hearts left and right.” Clay smiled reluctantly. “Who is it this time? What’s her name? Is she hot? She’s hot, isn’t she? Is there more than one? There’s more than one, isn’t there?” Hardy teased. Slowly, the twinkle that normally lit Clay’s eyes returned and Hardy grinned, offering his fist for a bump. “Nice!” Clay playfully tapped his knuckles against Hardy’s. “I can’t help it if they want me.” “Oh-ho-ho! He’s a play-ah!” Clay’s cheeks pinked up and he smiled back at Hardy. “Nah. I remember what you told me about how to treat girls.” One face drifted through Hardy’s mind, but he pushed it aside. “Good man. But the question is: do you remember what I told you about how to dominate in Guitar Hero?” Clay’s gleeful expression and whoop of delight released a flood of guilt in Hardy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken time to play video games with his brother. It seemed there was always a game or a practice or a date or a party. Something. Hardy’s life was a series of things that ultimately made other people happy. Today was the first day that he could

remember just doing something he truly wanted to do, with someone he truly wanted to be with. No pressure. No ulterior motive. No expectations. Just shooting film with a girl he liked then playing video games with his brother. As Clay moved about the game room, excitedly readying the Xbox, Hardy couldn’t help but wonder at what cost the day might come. ******** The only pretense of perfection that Hardy’s family had ever given up on was going to church. When he was little, his mother would end up in tears within ten minutes of them finding their seat amongst the other worshippers on the pews. Hardy could remember sitting absolutely still and silent between his parents, the tension surely enough to crush his small body. It was always the longest hour of his life, apart from the hour following church when he would hide in his room with a toddler-age Clay, trying to entertain him while his father screamed at his mother a few doors down. Ever since, Sundays had been tense days for Hardy. He spent the day holed up in his room, staying out of trouble, as he seemed to be the source of most of his father’s biggest rages. An overwhelming need to get out of the house kept him company, but he was always afraid to leave his mother and brother alone for very long. So he waited. He always waited until evening before giving in to the urge to escape. He was intensely relieved to see dusk fall outside his window. Hardy quickly changed into jeans and a rugby shirt, running his fingers through his short locks and heading for the door. He wanted to get out before anyone

could question where he was going. Although he refused to think too much about the whys of it, he knew there was only one destination for him. Miracle’s. He was nearly home free when his father’s booming voice stopped him in his tracks. His fingers were wound around the door knob and his keys were in his hand. “Hardy! Where are you going?” Emerald green eyes that felt like home and crinkled in laughter hovered at the back of his mind, but his lips said the first thing he could find beyond them. “The carnival. I won’t be late.” When he was met with silence, he twisted the knob and all but ran down the walk to his car. It wasn’t until he found himself once more on Miracle’s stoop that he worried again at what a poor impression he was making on her and her family. But that was far from enough to stop him from ringing the bell. At that moment, he wasn’t sure what, if anything could’ve stopped him. Kelly St. James opened the door and, much to Hardy’s relief, she said nothing. She simply tilted her head to the side for a moment and then shook it in exasperation, stepping back to let Hardy enter. “Miracle!” she called before indicating the couch. “Have a seat.” Hardy felt he should say something, try to explain the bizarre way he kept turning up at the front door, unannounced. But he had no idea what to say, how to explain why he couldn’t seem to stay away from Miracle. And if he did, Kelly would probably forbid Miracle to get anywhere near him anymore, thinking him some sort of

crazed lunatic slash stalker. So Hardy simply sank down onto the soft sofa cushion and propped his elbows on his knees, settling in to wait. Movement to his right drew his eye. Miracle had appeared just inside the living room doorway, where she’d stopped, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the jamb, watching him silently. Hardy could only imagine what she must be thinking, what with the way he’d left the night before. He knew he needed to apologize and offer up some kind of explanation, but he didn’t yet know quite what to say. In the absence of that, he went with playful. “Do you have a cell phone?” he asked, breaking the silence. He saw the wrinkle of confusion drift over her brow and disappear. Then she nodded. “Yeah. Why?” “Can I see it?” Miracle frowned again, but turned to leave the room. A few seconds later, she returned with a small dark pink rectangle. She held it up and Hardy grinned. “Can I see it up close?” Miracle’s lips twitched as she crossed the room to stand in front of him. She held the phone right up to his face. “Is that close enough?” Hardy grabbed her wrist and took the cell phone from her fingers, keeping hold of her as he moved his thumb across the keyboard. A few seconds later, a buzz sounded from Hardy’s pocket and he placed Miracle’s phone back in her hand. “What did you do?” “I sent myself a text from your phone. Now we have each

other’s number.” “Maybe I didn’t want your number.” Although Hardy felt a pang somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, he knew he deserved that. But he wasn’t going to let it stop him. “Well, I wanted yours.” “Maybe I didn’t want you to have mine.” “Too late now. It’s 3 a.m. prank calls from here on out. Sorry.” “Oh, so it’s gonna be like that?” “Yep. It’s the only way.” “The only way to what?” “To make you think of me at 3 a.m.” “And why do you want me thinking of you at 3 a.m.?” “Because your defenses will be down and I’ll be able to get inside your head more easily.” “Why do you want inside my head?” A glib response rose quickly to Hardy’s mind, but as he looked up at Miracle—standing so close to him that he could count every eyelash and smell her heavenly scent— he became so consumed with her, it died on his lips. It seemed he was in this state more often than not, whether she was around or not. “Because you’re inside mine,” he said, coming to his feet. As he rose, Miracle craned her neck to look up at him and Hardy wanted nothing more than to kiss her. When her lips parted the tiniest bit, he wondered if she was thinking the same thing. “It’s only fair.” They stared into each other’s eyes for several long, tense seconds before Miracle laughed nervously and took a step back. “Well, just so you know, you’ll have to deal with Mom if

you run up my phone bill. I’m not taking the blame for nocturnal pranks.” “Deal,” Hardy said softly, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them off her; they itched to touch her smooth cheek. “Hey, you wanna come with me to the carnival?” He hadn’t really intended to go to the carnival; that had just been for his father’s benefit. But now that he was here with Miracle, he didn’t know how else to prolong his time with her. “We could take the cameras, of course, in case we find some really good people shots for class.” A knowing grin curved the edges of Miracle’s mouth and Hardy knew that she could see right through the flimsy pretext. He held his breath, awaiting her response. Miracle started nodding slowly. “The carnival, huh? I could do that.” The fact that she went along with it made Hardy’s heart soar. “You know, since it’s for school and all.” Her eyes sparkled devilishly and Hardy nearly laughed. “Give me five minutes to change, k?” With that, she hurried out of the room. As Hardy watched her go, he wanted to stop her, to tell her that she looked great in what she was wearing, an outfit that made his pulse jump up into a faster rhythm. But he didn’t. He was too busy remembering how long her legs looked beneath the ragged hem of her cut-off shorts and how graceful her neck was in the scoop-neck t-shirt. Less than five minutes later, she re-emerged wearing her usual baggy jeans. At least she wasn’t wearing a formhiding sweater, though. She had left her t-shirt on.

As Miracle slipped her feet into flip flops, Hardy was almost wishing she had changed tops as well. The thin mint green material of her shirt clung snugly to her breasts, making Hardy feel tight and achy in all the wrong places. Purposely, he turned his head and moved toward the door, holding it open for her. “I won’t be late, Mom,” Miracle called as she pulled the strap of her cross-body bag over her head. With a quick smile, she breezed past Hardy. “All right. Let’s go.” ******** Considering the strained nature of their last couple of interludes, Hardy was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to be with Miracle. There was something about her that was thrilling yet comfortable. Enticing yet soothing. Fiery yet calm. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another girl—physically and emotionally—yet he wanted to protect her from the world, from pain and harm and heartache, at the same time. Something about her tugged at his heart. He wanted to love her and shield her, like a rare, delicate flower. Like she was frail and breakable. Tender and precious. Fragile When they arrived at the carnival, which was situated in a large parking lot across the street from the sand and the ocean, Hardy put the car in park and cut the engine. Miracle immediately reached for the door handle. “No!” he barked, reaching across Miracle as if to stop her. She turned her wide, stunned eyes toward him, her lips rounded in an O of surprise. She said nothing, simply sat there frozen, watching him. “Wait.” Hardy exited the car and hurried around to the passenger side, yanking the handle to open the door. With a flourish,

he bent at the waist and reached inside for Miracle’s hand. It was cool and small in his, but her grip was strong when she wound her fingers around his. Miracle slid out, but still didn’t speak. She was smiling broadly, however, when she straightened to her full, diminutive height beside Hardy. He grinned down at her. Hardy got the feeling she wanted to laugh. And so did he. He didn’t know why he wanted her to know he could be a gentleman. But he did. He loosened his hold on her fingers, enough so that if she wanted to free hers, she could do so easily. But he didn’t let her go. Not completely. And he wouldn’t. Not unless she wanted him to. As they walked toward the entrance, Hardy noticed Miracle looking around, her expression slightly awestricken. When he realized what her face was saying, he stopped abruptly, pulling Miracle up by his light grip on her hand. She turned to look at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been to a carnival.” She grinned up at him. “Okay, I won’t tell you I’ve never been to a carnival.” “Are you serious?” “Yes. I’m very serious. I refuse under threat of death to tell you that I’ve never been to a carnival,” she teased. “Smart ass,” Hardy quipped. “You know what I mean.” “Yes, I know what you mean.” “So you’ve never ridden rides that are dangerous at best, eaten food that should come with a vomit bag and a warning, or paid far too much for a cheap stuffed animal?” She giggled, a sound that ran down Hardy’s spine like dancing fingers.

“No, I’ve never done any of those things. But you make them sound so appealing, how could I resist now?” “You can’t. It’s that simple.” “Then what are we waiting for?” Miracle asked, tugging Hardy forward. “Show me the carnival!”

CHAPTER EIGHT Miracle’s enthusiasm was contagious. Hardy found himself looking at everything through her eyes and it was amazing. Lights were never brighter, colors were never more vibrant, sounds were never more stimulating, and smells were never more mouth-watering. In many ways, Hardy felt like he’d never been to a carnival either, not really. And he couldn’t have been happier to experience it for the first time with Miracle. After he bought them tickets, they strolled around the carnival once just taking it all in. On their second go-round, Hardy saw Miracle looking at a giant polar bear stuffed animal that was hanging along the side of a gaming tent. It happened to be the grand prize of a fastball-throwing game. “Care to try your luck with a fastball?” the youngish guy asked as they strolled past. Hardy glanced at Miracle and her eyes had widened with excitement. He pulled her to a stop in front of the vest-clad attendant. “Yeah. Give me six balls,” Hardy said, pulling two dollar bills out of his wallet. The attendant stacked six baseballs on the counter in front of Hardy. “How much for the polar bear?” “Fast ball over 90 miles per hour wins you the bear.” Although football was his sport of choice, Hardy had played baseball since he was in third grade, so he knew his way around the little red-stitched leather orb. Hardy took

one in his hand and rolled it around in his fingers. He’d only pitched for a brief stent, normally being placed at short stop, but Hardy put all his focus into remembering the mechanics of it. It was suddenly very important to him that he win Miracle that bear. Taking a deep breath, he drew back his arm and let the ball fly from his fingertips. The yellow numbers of the radar readout claimed that the pitch had only been 78 miles per hour, not nearly fast enough for the polar bear. Hardy gritted his teeth and worked his shoulder in three big circles before picking up another ball. He threw. 78. Reaching for the third ball, Hardy inhaled deeply before he sent it zipping toward the back of the tent. He was gratified when the numbers blinked 83. “Getting closer,” the attendant said. Miracle squealed and clapped her hands. Hardy couldn’t help but smile. Her eyes twinkled happily and she bounced up and down excitedly. It was easy to see that she would be thrilled regardless, but that just made him want to win her the bear all the more. Hardy worked his way through the next two balls, getting steadily closer to the coveted 90 MPH mark. When he hefted the last ball up into the air and caught it against his palm, he pictured the baseball sailing through the air, a white blur in the neon-lit night. He pictured Miracle jumping up and down then throwing her arms ecstatically around his neck. He pictured the disgruntled attendant unhooking the big polar bear and handing it to Miracle. His heart beat with satisfaction and determination. With a quick grunt, Hardy pulled back his arm and hurled

the ball forward. When it left his fingers, he knew he’d thrown his fastest ball. His stomach churned with gratification and his lips curved with pleasure as he turned to watch Miracle. He didn’t need to watch the radar readout to know he’d won the bear; he felt it in his gut. As if in slow motion, Miracle’s mouth dropped open, her eyes rounded and she turned toward him. All the bells and music, all the carnies and kids, all the rides and ruckus stilled as he watched her. Hardy was aware of nothing but the red glow of neon on her smooth cheek, the white flash of her teeth in her pale face, the blink of the lights in her eyes and the warm spread of happiness as it made its way through his chest. When Miracle threw herself against him and wound her arms around his neck, just as he’d pictured her doing, Hardy closed his eyes and hugged her to him. He realized that he’d throw a million baseballs a thousand times a day if it would keep her in his arms. After a few seconds, she wiggled free to take the giant bear from the attendant. Her face shone with the simple pleasure of the moment, of the bear and the carnival. Hardy didn’t think he’d ever seen someone enjoy the seemingly mundane so much. Deep down, he knew he never would again. She cuddled the bear proudly as they made their way through the crowded lanes. Hardy bought her an ice cream cone and regretted it almost instantly when he found that he couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth as she ate. Each time her tongue flicked out to lick at it, Hardy felt his body throb in response. He was almost glad when a particularly rambunctious boy slammed into an unsuspecting Miracle

and knocked the cone from her hand. For a moment, he felt bad for her as she stared down at the pink blob melting quickly into a puddle on the warm pavement. And even though it tortured him to watch her eat it, he’d have bought her another one if it would’ve made her happy. Much to his surprise, however, Miracle just laughed and shrugged, licking ice cream from her fingertips. “Well, it was good while it lasted,” she said casually. “How ‘bout a ride on the Ferris wheel?” And just like that, she was over it and moving on to the next wondrous thing. Hardy simply smiled and shook his head, always in awe of her. “Does nothing ever upset you?” “Only if I let it,” she answered enigmatically, winking one emerald eye at him. “Now move it, slow poke! We’ve got dangerous rides to ride and bad food to eat!” On their way around the carnival to the Ferris wheel, they passed a trailer that sold the typical variety of carnival food —hot dogs, corn dogs, onion rings, popcorn, cotton candy, and caramel apples. Miracle stopped in her tracks and sniffed dramatically. “Omigod, what is that smell?” “Probably a mixture of ten different foods being deep fried. Wanna try something?” Miracle nodded and turned in the direction of the trailer. She slid into line and perused the menu on the front of the trailer as she moved forward. When it was her turn to order, she dealt Hardy another surprise. “I’ll take one of everything.” The red-haired woman behind the glass window raised her eyebrows in question. Hardy watched Miracle smile

broadly at the woman and nod, as if to say you heard me right. Hardy chuckled as the woman wrote down Miracle’s order, shaking her head as her pen moved. “Do you want something to drink?” “A large Coke.” The woman shook her head again, but the corners of her mouth twitched a little as if she were fighting back a smile. With a flair, she tore the order sheet off the pad and held it up for Miracle to see as she announced the total. Miracle didn’t bat an eye, just reached for the small purse strapped across her body. Hardy grabbed her wrist to still her. “Oh, no! My treat. I’ve gotta see this,” he teased, handing the cashier some bills. Miracle simply smiled at him and turned back toward the trailer. In less than two minutes, Hardy was helping her carry an armload of food to one of the nearby picnic tables set up for people to eat upon. As they spread out the feast, Hardy couldn’t help but chuckle again. “There’s no way you can eat even a quarter of all this.” Miracle stepped across the bench seat and sat down, unfolding a napkin and tucking it in at her throat like a bib. She then proceeded to roll up sleeves she wasn’t wearing and tip her chin confidently at Hardy. “Watch me.” And so he did. He watched and laughed with her as she decimated her hot dog, chomped on her corn dog, nibbled at her onion rings, and popped pieces of her popcorn into her mouth. “Want a bite?” she asked at one point, holding her halfeaten corn dog out to him. Hardy was perfectly content to watch her eat, but

something about tasting the place where her mouth had just been had him nodding his answer. Slowly, Miracle held the corn dog to his lips and Hardy took a bite. As he chewed, he thought it was the best corn dog he’d ever had, that he could surely taste the sweetness of her mouth lingering on the food. But then he quit tasting what he was chewing, focusing only on Miracle as she watched him eat. The bright green of her eyes was nearly eclipsed by her dilated pupils. Unabashedly, she watched his mouth. Hardy had to consciously fight back a groan when her tongue slipped out to lick her lips. When she reached forward, he stopped chewing and held his breath. With one fingertip, she swiped at the corner of his mouth, pulling her yellow-stained finger away. “Mustard,” she muttered, sticking the digit into her mouth. He watched her suck it clean, his pants getting suspiciously tight in response to the innocuous yet strangely erotic gesture. When she lifted her eyes to his, the heat in them seared him all the way to his toes, making it hard for him to finish chewing and swallow the food he was supposed to be eating. Her eyes searched his for several long moments before she spoke. “Good, isn’t it?” she asked huskily. “Delicious,” he croaked, nearly overcome with the urge to ravage her mouth, to slide his tongue inside and taste a much more intoxicating treat. “Well, well, well,” a familiar sharp voice called, intruding once again on an intimate scene. “School must be more demanding for some people. You sure are puttin’ in a lot of

time ‘helping her out’, Hardy. And seriously, I hope you don’t look at all your friends that way.” Hardy turned a cool eye to Cheyenne, who had approached from his right. She was with Nate. For a moment, no one said anything. The tension built quickly, but Nate stepped in with humor to relieve at least a small portion of it. “He doesn’t look at me that way, but he totally should. This body is made of pure ivory hotness,” Nate teased, rubbing a hand playfully across his chest. His attempt to lessen the sting of Cheyenne’s words was blatant and marginally effective. “The only people who consider you hot, Nate, are the visually impaired and the exceedingly desperate,” Hardy joked in return, thankful for his friend’s quick interjection. “I don’t think we’ve met,” Nate declared, ignoring Hardy in favor of Miracle. The appreciation in his eyes was plain to see and it didn’t escape Cheyenne’s notice. Or Hardy’s. He had to put forth a gargantuan effort not to snap viciously at his friend when he winked flirtatiously at Miracle. “Nathan Blevins.” Her smile as light and natural as it always was, Miracle wiped her hand on a spare napkin and stuck it out at Nate. “Miracle St. James. It’s a pleasure.” Nate grinned mischievously. “The pleasure is all mine.” Hardy bristled. He felt his lips tighten into a thin line and he wanted to tell Nate and Cheyenne to get lost, but he held his tongue. He didn’t want to turn Miracle off with a ridiculously juvenile display of jealousy. He had no claims on her, after all, no rights to her. And Hardy was pretty sure that’s what bothered him most—that Miracle wasn’t his and

his alone. “I’m gonna be sick,” Cheyenne hissed under her breath. “Why?” Miracle asked, genuinely baffled. “I mean, it must just be because I’m new, because I can’t imagine anyone being distracted from a date as beautiful as you.” Hardy’s mouth actually dropped open in shock. How Miracle could be so kind and gracious and complimentary to someone as openly nasty as Cheyenne was beyond him. Cheyenne frowned. Hardy felt sure she had no idea how to react to Miracle’s benevolence. After several seconds of silent deliberation, she must’ve decided Miracle was up to something. Cheyenne narrowed her eyes on Miracle and then took a smiling Nate by the arm and dragged him away. Unperturbed, Miracle resumed the obliteration of her feast. Hardy was not as quick to recover. He was staring at her, gape-mouthed, completely awed by her kind nature. After a couple of minutes, Miracle glanced at him. “What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth and both cheeks. “No, you don’t have anything on your face,” Hardy assured her gently. “Then what?” “I know…I thought…you’re just amazing. That’s all.” A pale pink stain crept up into Miracle’s cheeks. She cast her eyes down, a bashful grin curving her lips, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned her attention back to her desserts. Hardy watched as she made quick work of the caramel apple, devouring the sweetly coated peel and leaving behind most of the white fleshy apple beneath it. With a thump, Miracle tossed the rest of the fruit on her

pile of trash and then wadded it all up together and went to toss it in the garbage. She came back dusting off her hands. She stopped at the edge of the table, collected her bear and grabbed her cotton candy stick, pushing the plastic-wrap covering down. “Ferris wheel?” she asked, tearing off a long, wispy strip of pink sugar and stuffing it into her mouth. Hardy grinned. She grinned. “Gotta love a woman who can eat like a man and still look like you do.” Miracle winked and rubbed her still-flat belly. “I’m in training.” “For what?” “Before I die, I want to win a hot dog eating contest.” Hardy knew he should laugh, not because it was utterly ridiculous, but because she was most likely serious. But he couldn’t. Not when she mentioned dying, no matter how casually. If anyone else had made such a statement, he’d have thought nothing of it, but with Miracle, he seemed to be hyper sensitive to the topic of her demise, regardless of how far away it might be. “I think you’re well on your way to becoming a champion eater,” he quipped, hoping his smile and attempt at levity had adequately concealed his turbulent emotions. Hardy stood and he and Miracle began making their way slowly through the crowd toward the Ferris wheel. From the corner of his eye, he watched her pinch off tufts of airy sugar between her fingers and then stick them into her mouth, all the while hugging her polar bear and curiously watching the people around her. He wondered what she might be thinking. It seemed that she was always in deep,

significant thought, unlike the majority of people he knew. Of course, she had had troubles in her life that most people did not. “I was so sick during chemo that I swore when I felt like eating again, I’d eat everything I could get my hands on,” she began quietly. Hardy had to lean toward her slightly to make out her words. The ambient noise of the crowded carnival threatened to swallow them up. “One of the first things I ate when I started feeling better was a hot dog. I started with one and it tasted so good, I ended up eating seven.” Hardy watched as she tore off another piece of cotton candy and held it up for inspection before sticking out her tongue and catching the tail to drag it into her mouth. “That’s the day I decided to live every minute of every day like it might be my last.” Her sentiment hung between them like a dark, depressing fog. Not what she’d said, but what she hadn’t. She was going to live every minute of every day like it might be her last because it might, in fact, very well be. That’s what she meant. Those unspoken words reached in and wound their icy fingers around Hardy’s heart and squeezed. As if sensing the morose direction his thoughts had taken, Miracle swung her gaze to Hardy and winked playfully. “Race you to the Ferris wheel.” It took Hardy a moment to switch gears and focus on what she’d said. “I’m not racing a girl, especially one that just ate half her body weight in fried food.” “Aww,” Miracle said, distress written all over her beautiful face. “I didn’t realize you were a scaredy cat. I can go extra slow if that’ll make you feel better,” she teased.

“Oh-ho-ho, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?” Hardy said, lunging for Miracle. Quickly, she darted away, just out of his reach. “Not bad,” he admitted. She was very nimble, even when stuffed with carnival food and burdened with a polar bear. “I do all right for myself,” she giggled. “Race me?” Miracle’s eyes twinkled. Hardy saw her tongue sneak out at the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss her so badly he nearly missed her countdown. “Ready, set, go!” Miracle took off toward the Ferris wheel, dodging children and adults, strollers and stuffed animals with an agility that belied the enormous meal she’d just eaten. Hardy would’ve been happy to just sit back and watch her antics. He found himself purposely lagging behind, smiling and chuckling the whole way to the ride. She arrived first, of course, with Hardy not far behind. He saw her raise one arm above her head and dance lightly from foot to foot. He heard her say gruffly, “Yo, Adrian! I did it!” Hardy laughed. “Does that make me Apollo? Because I could totally live with abs like that.” Miracle stilled, arching one brow. “You already have abs like that.” Hardy felt a goofy smile pull at his lips. She’d obviously taken notice of his body at the beach. He’d always been pleased with his physique—muscular legs and arms, trim waist, ripped stomach, firm pecs—but it had never mattered so much that someone else was equally pleased with it. Until Miracle, that is. Her comment made him ridiculously happy for some reason.

He closed the gap between them, not stopping until he was less than a foot from her. She was a bit winded, but still smiling broadly. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled with life and vitality. His fingers itched to tunnel into her hair. His lips tingled with the desire to be pressed to hers. His body ached to feel the warmth of hers. But he kept his distance, instead bending his head to tear off a bite of her cotton candy. “Hey,” she said, pulling the candy-coated stick away from his mouth. “Lips off my spoils.” “I lost to a girl. The least you can do is share your cotton candy.” She pursed her lips as if considering his logic. “I’m nothing if not a good sport,” she said, returning the sugary cloud to its former position near his face. Miracle’s eyes dropped to Hardy’s mouth and stayed there. He felt heat rush to his lips, as if he could actually feel her gaze upon them like a physical touch. Slowly, he opened his mouth and snatched a piece of fluff with his tongue, pulling it slowly inside. It dissolved into a puddle of sweetness that was still no rival for the remembered taste of Miracle’s mouth. Miracle licked her lips as she watched him. Hardy smothered a groan, wishing he could pull her tongue into his mouth at that very moment. “Are you two in line?” A man with two small kids had stopped behind Hardy and was peeking around his shoulder. Hardy looked from the man to Miracle and he smiled. “Yeah, we’re in line.” Reaching out, he took the cotton candy from Miracle’s

hand, laced his fingers through hers and tugged her forward into the short line in front of the Ferris wheel.

CHAPTER NINE The line moved quickly, much more quickly than Hardy would’ve liked. Miracle left her hand in his and Hardy could’ve stood there all night just holding it. In her silence, he was completely focused on the feel of her small hand enveloped in his—how warm it was, how soft it was, how electricity seemed to jump and tingle up his arm, even at such an innocent contact. He offered to hold her polar bear. She dared him to touch it. They both laughed. The rest of the time, Hardy watched Miracle from the corner of his eye. He glanced around occasionally to see what she was looking at, but for the most part, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She watched the people that passed them. She seemed both curious and fascinated. Each time a new batch of carnival-goers would unload from the Ferris wheel, she would smile in what seemed like anticipation and squeeze his hand excitedly. His heart skipped a beat each time she did it. When it was their turn, Hardy took the polar bear and helped her into the little car. He sat down beside her, situating the stuffed animal on his other side. “You ready?” he asked, knowing what her answer would be. She practically hummed with excitement. Miracle met his eye. She held his gaze for several seconds before she nodded and smiled widely. For a moment, Hardy wondered if she’d meant she was ready for something else, something like him, but she quickly turned

away and the moment was gone. He wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t imagined it into existence just because he wanted it so badly, wanted her so badly. As the wheel turned and they inched their way toward the top, stopping routinely to let new passengers replace the old ones, Hardy sat back to watch Miracle. She was leaning forward, looking down at the ground. The wind ruffled her hair and blew her delicious scent across his face. When he sat up as well, the car tipped forward, swinging threateningly. With a squeal, Miracle leaned back, plastering herself against the back of the car. Her eyes were wide when she turned them on Hardy. He realized he’d scared her. “Sorry. I didn’t do that on purpose.” Slowly, Miracle’s lips curved into a smile. “Do it again,” she said, cautiously leaning forward once more. Grinning at her bravado, Hardy leaned quickly back in his seat and then forward, causing their cart to swing again. Miracle half squealed-half laughed, clearly thrilled. Hardy felt the sound in his chest like a living organism. When the Ferris wheel had picked up all its riders, it began its slow circular movement, lifting them high off the ground and then dropping them low. Miracle leaned forward and looked at everything, noticed everything. Hardy sat back, arm draped across the seat behind her, and ignored everything else in favor of observing Miracle. She asked him the occasional question, but otherwise remained quiet as she took it all in. Hardy was simply mesmerized by her, a state he found himself in more and more often of late. When the Ferris wheel took them for their third ascent, Miracle leaned back in her seat, her body

fitting beneath the crook of his arm as though it was designed to do just that. Hardy quelled the urge to wrap his arm around her and pull her in closer. He held his breath when she sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, gazing contentedly up at the clear night sky. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful night,” she said quietly. Hardy had to work to pull his eyes away from Miracle, but he did it, looking above them at what had so thoroughly impressed her. At first, the sky looked exactly as it did on any other night —dark with a smattering of stars, like he imagined the night sky looked almost anywhere in the world. Before he turned his attention back to Miracle, however, he tried to view the wide expanse as she saw it, to see what she was seeing. It was then that Hardy realized the sky wasn’t just dark; it was the color of the darkest blue velvet, rich and luxurious. The stars twinkled against it like so many sparkling diamonds and the perfectly-round moon hung in their midst like a shining silver medallion. It was the same night sky he’d seen all his life, but tonight it was breathtaking. When Hardy finally turned his attention back to Miracle, it was she who was watching him this time. Her eyes glowed more brightly than the moon and a sweet smile graced her lips. Hardy opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was awestruck by her—by her beauty, by her vision, by her incredible soul. He’d never experienced another person before. But he experienced Miracle. He felt her as though her presence were diaphanous fingers that wrapped him in warmth, weaving their way around his heart like a cocoon. He knew

he’d never be the same without her. Her hair rustled against his shirt when she nodded. “I know,” she said enigmatically. Hardy knew she was probably referring to the sky—like I know, it’s beautiful!—but he couldn’t help wondering if he was wearing his heart on his sleeve and she knew what he was thinking. Even if that was the case, he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop what he was feeling. He knew that his life would never be complete, that he would never feel whole again if he had to live without Miracle. She turned her face back toward the sky and Hardy’s mind spun as the Ferris wheel edged them toward the ground.

How can I feel this way about someone I just met? This can’t be real. I’m in highschool, for godssake! Besides, I don’t have room for her. She doesn’t fit into my life, into my future. But even as the thoughts bounced around inside his head, Hardy knew that none of it mattered. He felt it deep down. Miracle was a game changer. She was his game changer. Several minutes later, Hardy was quiet as the attendant unlatched the metal bar that held them safely inside their cart and helped Miracle out onto the ground. Her contented demeanor seemed even more peaceful in contrast to the tumultuous sea of emotion raging inside him. Hardy found himself drawn to it, drawn to her, just as he had been the first time he’d seen her in the park so many months ago. There was a brightness inside Miracle that shed its light into the dark corners of Hardy’s soul, that illuminated the dim future his father had planned for him.

Hardy recognized what it was that she made him feel. Hope. Miracle gave him hope. “There you are,” Hardy heard a deep voice say from his left as he and Miracle walked slowly away from the Ferris wheel. He probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought, thinking the guy was talking to someone else, if it weren’t for the fact that Miracle stopped. When he turned to look at her, she was frozen. “What’s the matter?” Hardy asked. When she didn’t answer, he followed her eyes to a boy that was standing a few feet from where they were. He was smiling and Hardy disliked him instantly. “Jonah?” “Hey, baby!” he said familiarly, opening his arms as if she would run right into them. Hardy’s heart plummeted into his shoes when Miracle left his side and walked slowly into Jonah’s embrace. It didn’t register with Hardy that she didn’t run or that she seemed stiff against him. It didn’t ease the pain in his chest that she pulled quickly away. He only saw the world’s most perfect tall, blond guy smiling the world’s most perfect smile down at the girl Hardy was pretty sure he’d fallen in love with. “What are you doing here?” “Your mom said you’d gone to the carnival with a friend from school to take some pictures,” Jonah said, reaching forward to tuck a wavy strand of Miracle’s hair behind her ear. Hardy’s stomach lurched at the intimate gesture. “No, I mean what are you doing here, in Middleton?” Jonah’s smile widened. “I decided to go to school at the University of Florida so I could be closer to you.” Even though he felt like he was intruding on an intimate

reunion, Hardy couldn’t bring himself to move. He felt as though he was standing on the shore watching his greatest treasure drift out to sea. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. “But you said you—” “I know what I said, baby,” Jonah interrupted, rubbing his hands up and down Miracle’s arms. “But I was wrong. I miss you. I want to be with you.” Hardy’s heart skipped a beat when Miracle turned her head and glanced at him over her shoulder. It was then that Jonah acknowledged him, almost as though Hardy hadn’t even registered as a blip on the radar until that very moment. “This must be your friend,” Jonah said, extending his hand toward Hardy and stepping forward as he draped his other arm casually (and possessively, Hardy thought) around Miracle’s shoulders. “Jonah Elliott. Nice to meet you, man.” With a smile he knew was tight and forced, Hardy slipped his hand inside the other guy’s and squeezed it briefly. “Hardy Bradford,” he said abruptly, backing up a step and crossing his arms over his chest. Hardy knew the posture probably looked confrontational, but he didn’t care. He didn’t really care what this Jonah thought of him; he just wanted him to stay away from Miracle. “So you’re one of those artsy types like Miracle, huh? Are you into photography, too?” Jonah’s condescending tone wasn’t lost on Hardy, and he bristled. “Yep.” Jonah frowned as he looked from Hardy to Miracle and back again. “Where’s your camera?”

Hardy looked down at his chest, which was free from the camera that should have been dangling there from its neat black strap. He looked up at Miracle and she was doing the same thing. When her eyes met his, they sparkled with mischief. He knew her laugh was coming before it bubbled from her lips. When it finally did, it gushed over him like a warm tide and he laughed, too. “Oops,” was all she said, her smile letting Hardy know that the intimate, inside joke they shared was not all in his head. She’d been so enjoying herself, she hadn’t even realized they’d left their cameras in Hardy’s car. Hardy would never forget that moment. It was the moment he realized he would fight to the death for her. Unfortunately, his elation over their shared humor was short-lived. Every bit the opportunist Hardy suspected he was, Jonah jumped in to seize the chance to get Miracle alone. “Well, since you two forgot your cameras then you won’t mind me taking Miracle home now, right?” To Hardy, Jonah’s smile seemed smug and shark-like, but there was little he could do wipe it away. He couldn’t argue his logic without admitting some sort of more-thanfriendly feelings toward Miracle. And he couldn’t very well do that until he had more time with her, time to convince her that they belonged together. So, Hardy did the only thing he could—he gave in gracefully. For the time being anyway. “Whatever Miracle wants to do is fine by me.” Hardy thought he could see regret on Miracle’s face, but he couldn’t be sure. It was only a flash, one quickly replaced by her trademark serenity. She also looked like she wanted to say something, but again Hardy wondered if

he was only imagining it because he wanted to see it. Finally, after a few tense seconds, Miracle’s lips curved and she nodded, first at Hardy and then at Jonah. He grinned like the cat that ate the canary. Hardy hoped he choked on the feathers. “I’m parked over there,” Jonah said, pointing in the direction opposite of where Hardy was parked. He tipped his head curtly at Hardy. “See you around, man.” Hardy nodded once and watched as Jonah guided Miracle away from him. “See you tomorrow, Hardy,” Miracle promised, smiling shyly up at him. “Thank you for bringing me out tonight.” Her eyes seemed to scream at him that she meant so much more, but that was just one more thing Hardy couldn’t be sure he wasn’t imagining. They’d only walked a few yards when Miracle looked back at Hardy and smiled again. His heart broke and melted all at the same time, leaving him feeling unfulfilled and…lost. He stood watching them go until they were out of sight. ******** Never had Hardy so anticipated school before, much less a Monday. And yet on this morning, he was actually excited. But it wasn’t really school he was looking forward to; it was Miracle. He was anxious to see her again. Without the goon. It wasn’t until he was turning the corner to make his way to his locker that Hardy happened to remember Cheyenne. Normally she would be there waiting for him. But they’d broken up on Friday. Since then, except for when she’d made it impossible to ignore her, he hadn’t given her a

second thought. Until now. He was relieved to find only Nate standing at his locker. Their lockers were only three apart, but Nate wasn’t at his; he was at Hardy’s. With a sigh, Hardy continued his approach. At least he’s alone, he thought. Thank God! Hardy felt his eyebrows draw together as he remembered Nate’s blatant appreciation of Miracle. It was enough to dampen his mood, but only minimally. “Details, dude! I want details,” Nate said with a lascivious grin when Hardy stopped in front of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man,” Hardy snapped, ignoring Nate to reach around him and work the combination on his lock. “Don’t get all girlie on me now, Bradford! You know I’m talking about that new chick, Miracle. Dude, if you don’t tap that, give me a shot at her. I bet she—” Before Nate could even finish his degrading sentence, Hardy had his fingers curled into the collar of his rugby shirt and was hauling him up against the lockers. “Shut your mouth, Nate. You’re my friend, but right now I’m not feeling very friendly.” Hardy didn’t realize how inordinately irate he was until his friend started to laugh. “Dayum!” was all Nate said as he watched Hardy with a surprised yet impressed expression on his face. “I’ve never seen you like this before, amigo. If you wanted me to back off, all you had to do was ask.” “This is me asking,” Hardy growled. Nate raised his hands in surrender and Hardy released his hold. As Hardy

peered into the face of his stunned friend, he sighed, recognizing his overreaction. “Sorry, man,” he said, stepping back and rubbing a hand over his face. Nate laughed again, straightening his shirt. “You always did have a way with words.” Hardy glared at him, but Nate, ever the unflappable jokester, paid him little attention. Recovering quickly, Nate playfully punched Hardy in the arm and danced a circle around him. “You’re not gonna start writing ‘Hardy loves Miracle’ all over your notebooks, are you? Get a tattoo with her name in a heart? Sing her a song and post it on YouTube?” Nate stopped, put a hand dramatically over his heart, and started to sing in an incredibly offensive falsetto. He crooned something about lights guiding her home and trying to fix her. The more he twirled around singing like a girl, making a spectacle, the more attention and strange looks he attracted. Hardy held back his smile until he could hold it no longer, finally laughing outright. He begged Nate to stop, a plea with which he thankfully complied. “That was almost painful, dude.” “You know I sing like an angel. Don’t be a hater,” Nate teased as he turned to spin the knob on his combination lock. When he opened the door, two books and a slew of papers fell out. Hardy just shook his head. He had no idea how Nate managed to keep his grades up as disorganized as he was. Hardy doubted he could even find some of his books, let alone take them home to study or complete his homework. Somehow, he did it, though. Hardy retrieved his own books for first period and shut

his locker, turning to Nate just as he was haphazardly stuffing the fallen books and papers back in his locker. “So,” Hardy began conversationally. “No Cheyenne?” Nate gave a bark of laughter and threw Hardy a sidelong glance. “You’re not jealous, are you?” Hardy rolled his eyes. “Please.” “That’s what she said,” Nate quipped, snorting in amusement. “Yeah, right. ‘Please stop’ maybe.” “More like ‘Please, God, don’t let this be Hardy’.” Hardy grinned. “What happened? Really?” “You know I can’t be tamed.” “Come on, Nate. Seriously, what happened?” Nate shrugged his wide shoulders uncomfortably. “No offense, man, but I don’t know how you put up with her as long as you did. That chick is psycho!” “Nah, she’s just high maintenance.” “Hardy, seriously, she scratched me. Hard! Look at this.” Nate pulled the neckline of his shirt down and to the side, exposing three long gashes across his chest. “That freak’s got claws, dude!” Hardy laughed. “What’d you do to her?” “Nothing she didn’t like before.” Hardy cackled. “It’s my curse, man. Once they’re with me, every other guy is just—” “Shut up, you ass!” Nate griped lightheartedly, jabbing his elbow into Hardy’s ribs. “I make ‘em purr.” “Those aren’t the marks of someone who was purring. Hissing maybe, but not purring.” “Eh, with Cheyenne, sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference,” Nate declared, unconcerned.

Hardy laughed. “Good point.” “No need to worry your pretty little head over it, though. She’ll be back. Trust me.” Hardy rolled his eyes again. Nate was probably right; Cheyenne had a pathological need to chase that which was not easily obtained and, in some ways, Nate was unattainable. Hardy supposed that was why he’d always been able to keep her attention. Although he’d thought he loved her at one point, since meeting Miracle, he realized his feelings for her had been lukewarm at best. There was a very good chance Cheyenne knew that, fueling her fascination with him. Not wanting to think about Cheyenne anymore, Hardy bid his friend goodbye and headed to the first class of the day. He knew he’d be counting the minutes until Chemistry, until he could see Miracle again. By the time Chem Lab rolled around, Hardy’s mood was much more morose. He hadn’t felt like himself since about ten minutes into first period. He’d quickly discovered all he could think about was Miracle. All he could do was count the minutes until he got to see her. He could’ve kicked himself for not finding out more about her classes and where her locker was, anything to give him enough information to “run into her” more often. The word stalker came to mind, but he pushed it ruthlessly aside, reasoning that he was no stalker. But, time would only go so fast, so he was practically panting by the time he breezed into the lab. He was a full three minutes early, which was a full five minutes before his usual arrival time—which was normally “late.” Hardy took his seat and pulled his book from his

backpack, flipping it open to a random page so that he’d have something to feign interest in until she arrived. Only she never showed. The bell rang and there was still no sign of Miracle. Hardy felt prickly and raw and sorely disappointed. “What’s the matter, Hardy? Did she have to change classes so you’d stop stalking her?” Hardy raised his eyes long enough to give Cheyenne a withering look. “Shut up, Cheyenne. I’m not stalking anybody,” he mumbled testily. “Could’ve fooled me. It seems like you turn up everywhere she is. Isn’t that the definition of stalking?” There was that word again. Hardy glanced up once more, his icy eyes locking with Cheyenne’s fiery ones. “Be very careful, Cheyenne,” Hardy cautioned in a deadly calm voice. The warning was not lost on Cheyenne. With a huff, she turned around in her seat and proceeded to ignore him for the rest of the class. Unfortunately, that only provided Hardy with one less distraction from pining away for the curiouslyabsent Miracle. His mood plummeted after that. Hardy thought about skipping lunch. If Miracle was absent, there was no chance of seeing her at lunch and he had no interest in participating in the social practices of the cafeteria. On the other hand, he also realized his rowdy lunch group was his best chance of finding distraction, so he went. It turned out to be fairly painless; his friends were very entertaining, even to someone in his current state. They provided a sufficient diversion until the bell rang. Then he was right back into his melancholy mood.

Hardy took out his phone to text Miracle at least a dozen times, each time talking himself out of it. First of all, he didn’t know under what guise he could even reach out to her. Secondly, he had no idea how she would feel about him texting her. He knew that the bill was a concern for her, but they’d also just met. What if she thought it was too soon? Or too forward? By fourth period, Hardy found that his concerns had taken a back seat to his need to hear from Miracle. He broke down and sent her a text, one as casual as he could manage in his increasingly desperate state.

Playing hooky? He sat staring at the bright screen of his phone, at those two words, for the remainder of fourth period. He never got an answer. Throughout fifth period, Hardy was sure he must’ve checked his phone at least forty times, maybe more, all to no avail. The screen held only his two words. No response. No word from Miracle. On his way to sixth period, Hardy debated blowing off photography to go by Miracle’s house, but what if Jonah was there? What if she was skipping school to be with him? The closer he got to class and the longer his phone was silent, the darker Hardy’s mood grew. Mr. Gault started class in his usual manner, but Hardy was too distracted to pay much attention. He couldn’t be sure how many times Mr. Gault called his name before managing to rouse Hardy from his miserable selfabsorption. “Mr. Bradford! Wake up!” Hardy started. “Oh. Sorry, Mr. Gault. What did you say?” “I said that your assignment is with Ms. St. James in the

conservatory.” “She’s not here today.” “Of course she is. She just got to class early. She’s already outside.” Hardy had no idea what else Mr. Gault said. He had picked up his camera bag and was out of his seat and out the door before he finished. He made himself slow down, realizing he’d look like a lunatic if he was seen running to the conservatory when there wasn’t a fire. After all, that would be the only acceptable circumstance under which to run anywhere in school—a fire. But in his heart, Hardy was already running to Miracle, running to the person who made him feel whole and somehow happier than he ever thought he could be. When he opened the door to the conservatory, he was completely deflated to find it empty. The room was filled with nothing but plants, hot air and the sweet scent of the orchids. Hardy was just about to leave and go look for Miracle elsewhere when a hint of lavender reached his nose. Letting the door shut quietly behind him, Hardy walked the length of the conservatory to the bend that led to the orchids. And there she was.

CHAPTER TEN Miracle had her back to him. A shaft of sunlight was shining down onto her, making the red tones of her brown hair glisten like burnished gold. She was standing still as a statue, observing a single bee as it buzzed from blossom to blossom among the orchids. Hardy knew the fascination she felt as she watched. He felt the same way when he watched her. Just as he was about to reach out and draw her into his arms like he’d wanted to do every minute since he’d met her, he remembered Jonah’s arrival in her life and he stopped himself. Instead, he quietly called her name, hoping not to startle her. “Miracle.” She whirled around, a big smile on her face. “Hey! You’re late,” she teased with a wink. “At least I attended all my classes today, unlike some people,” he said pointedly, clearing his throat. “Well, som e people had appointments they couldn’t miss.” Hardy could’ve cut his tongue right out of his mouth. He hadn’t even considered that she might’ve had a doctor’s appointment, although he should have, considering her history. Would it be rude to ask what happened or if she was all right? As he silently deliberated, Miracle was already moving on. “So, would it be possible to actually photograph these orchids when they open at night? I think they would make

some amazing pictures, not to mention that it would be wicked cool to see something like that.” As usual, Hardy was caught off guard by her charm. “Wicked cool?” Miracle grinned. “Yeah, wicked cool. You got a problem with that?” “No, ma’am,” Hardy said quickly, holding his hands up as if in surrender. Miracle giggled and Hardy knew he would replay the sound over and over again in his head. “So, what’s our assignment today then?” “Bugs.” “Bugs?” “Bugs.” “O-kay, then why are we in here?” “Well, I’m sure there are bugs aplenty in here, but this isn’t where we are supposed to be working. I just wanted to come in here and look at the flowers again, so Mr. Gault said he’d send you out here to meet me.” Hardy made a mental note to thank Mr. Gault one day for doing him a solid. “Okay, so where did he suggest we go to find the best insects to photograph then?” “The woods, of course.” “The woods? There are no woods around here.” Miracle’s grin screamed mischief. “Well, there are a few advantages to being a cancer survivor. Mr. Gault was nice enough to agree to let us go out to the woods behind my house to complete our assignment. I mean, travel is a part of the waiver that we all had to have our parents sign for this class, right?” Hardy had to laugh. “You are an evil genius.” Miracle curtsied. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”

As her lips curled into a wider smile, Miracle’s eyes sparkled. As usual, Hardy had to restrain himself from devouring her. “I’ll drive,” he said quickly, grabbing her hand and pulling her along behind him. He knew they had to get out of there before he did something stupid. Hardy tried to ignore how her fingers squeezed tightly around his and how she scrambled to keep up with him. She followed so closely behind him that he could feel her breasts press into his back when he stopped to open the door. The two walked briskly across campus toward the student parking lot. Excitement buzzed between them as if they were sneaking away to an illicit rendezvous. Hardy wondered if Miracle could feel it. By the time they’d gotten into his car, however, that risqué feeling had subsided into awkwardness. Hardy hoped she couldn’t feel that. She didn’t seem to; she seemed as peaceful as always, staring quietly out the window at the passing landscape as he drove. When the silence had stretched beyond Hardy’s comfort level, he cleared his throat and broached the subject that had been eating at him for hours. “So, Jonah…” Miracle turned to look at him. She smiled and nodded, but said nothing. Hardy could see that she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He’d have to do some digging. “Ex-boyfriend?” he asked hopefully, stressing the “ex.” “Yes.” “What happened?” Miracle paused, sighing deeply. “Like most people, he freaked out about my cancer. Most everyone does

eventually. Some just take a little longer to bail than others.” Hardy was genuinely puzzled. “Why? I mean, why would he freak out? Why would anyone freak out, other than to be afraid for you?” Miracle studied him, a frown slowly puckering her brow. “You really don’t see, do you?” “See what?” “See what a burden someone like me is. How hard it is to live with someone like me, to love someone like me,” she said, glancing down, away from his eyes to stare absently at a fingernail at which she picked. “No, I don’t. I can’t imagine how you, of all people, could be a burden to anyone. And I certainly don’t think you’re hard to love.” When Miracle’s eyes snapped up to meet his, Hardy hurried to elaborate. “I mean, I can’t imagine that you would be hard to love just because of your condition.” Miracle smiled a sad smile and looked away again. “Well, you, Mom and Mila are the only ones who feel that way. Trust me.” “What about your dad?” The question was out before Hardy could stop it. He wished desperately that he could’ve retrieved it before it reached Miracle’s ears. It was likely a painful topic, one he should have let her tell him about in her own time. “He gave up a long, long time ago. I had problems with my kidneys for years before they found cancer. He couldn’t handle the piles of bills and the never-ending trips to the doctor. There were a lot of hard days and long nights. So he left.” Hardy didn’t know what to say. He had a few choice names for a low-life such as that, but he doubted Miracle

wanted to hear any of them. So, he sat quietly, listening. “He wasn’t the first to go and I’m sure he won’t be the last.” “And yet you still seem to like people, to give them the benefit of the doubt. Why? How?” Miracle shrugged. “I don’t blame them any more than I blame him. Some people just aren’t cut out for a tough life. Some people are. You can’t blame them for the way they’re made.” “No, but you shouldn’t let them off the hook so easily. Weak or not, people are still responsible for doing the right thing, still accountable for their actions.” Miracle looked at Hardy over her shoulder and smiled. “It’s easier to just let it go. It hurts a lot less.” Her words cut through Hardy’s heart like a white-hot scalpel. She’d been hurt so much and so deeply, she’d just quit expecting more from the people around her. She’d learned to live with less, much, much less than what she deserved. “Well, I don’t treat people that way, so you don’t have to worry about me bailing on you, too.” Miracle’s jewel-like eyes bored into his. It seemed as though she could see straight into his soul, as if she sought the truth. Hardy could see by the look in her eyes that she found it. He meant what he said and she knew it. “You’re the stuff dreams are made of, Hardy Bradford,” she said wistfully. Although his heart swelled at her words, Hardy still felt the presence of Jonah between them as though he was riding in the back seat. Miracle hadn’t really defined her current relationship with him, hadn’t really answered Hardy’s

question in the way he’d wanted. Before he could find a way to pursue the subject without seeming fixated on Jonah, they had arrived at Miracle’s house. “Just park along the curb,” she advised. “Mom and Mila won’t be home for a while yet.” When Hardy pushed the gearshift into park and cut the engine, Miracle jumped out of the car. He grabbed his camera bag and quickly followed. “Mind if I change first?” she asked. A thousand inappropriate thoughts ran through Hardy’s mind, but he maintained his composure and uttered a cool, “No, go right ahead.” “Come on,” Miracle said, indicating with a tip of her head that he should follow her. Of course, Hardy didn’t hesitate. Miracle let them in through the front door and closed it behind Hardy once he was inside. “Do you want something to drink?” “No, I’m good, but thanks.” “Okay. I’ll be right back.” She turned to walk away, but Hardy stopped her. “Can I use your bathroom?” “Sure,” she said with a smile. “It’s this way.” Miracle showed Hardy to a small bathroom at the end of a short hallway that shot off the kitchen. Hardy noticed that every wall in the entire house was painted a cheery yellow. At least every wall he’d seen so far. After he’d used the bathroom and washed his hands, Hardy opened the door to make his way back to the living room. Directly across from the bathroom, Miracle was coming out of what Hardy assumed was her bedroom. As

if she’d forgotten something, she turned and ducked quickly back inside. Unable to stop himself, Hardy crossed the hall and stopped just outside the opening. He couldn’t imagine a room suiting her more perfectly. The walls, unlike the predominant yellow of the rest of the house, were a pale, soothing lilac. All the furniture in the room as well as the comforter and pillows were creamy white, but for a blanket draped across the foot of the bed and the curtains; they were covered in flowers of pink, lilac, mint green and yellow. The room was soft and feminine, tranquil and cheerful, everything that Miracle was, all wrapped up within four walls. The air even smelled like her, Hardy noticed as he inhaled the scent of lavender. Miracle stepped out of what Hardy guessed was her closet, tugging at a shoe she’d apparently just donned. All thoughts of the room left his mind, chased away by the sight of her. She’d changed into black form-fitting yoga pants and a snug gray long-sleeved t-shirt. Every curve was delineated to perfection and Hardy’s body came alive with desire. He forced himself to look away before the situation got embarrassing, mostly for him. “So, why the change of clothes?” “I’d really rather not get a tick if we’re gonna be scrounging around looking for bugs to take pictures of,” she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she breezed past him. “Why not?” Hardy asked as he followed Miracle back down the hall. “A little Lyme disease never hurt anybody. Oh, wait…” Miracle looked back at him and grinned. “Yeah, who

doesn’t want a rash, flu-like symptoms and overall misery with the possibility of paralysis? No summer would be complete without it.” “See? So why don’t we just strip those clothes right off you and take our chances?” They’d reached the door and Miracle stopped to look back at him. Hardy immediately regretted his teasing. He panicked, his brain scrambling for something to say to smooth things over in case he offended her. “I didn’t…I just…I was just…” he stammered. Miracle took a step closer and looked up at him. There was something smoky and hot in her eyes that gave Hardy pause. “Would you like that?” she asked softly, her voice little more than a whisper. “For me to strip, right here in front of you?” Hardy felt his jaw go slack and his heart began to race inside his chest like a runaway stallion. “Wh-what?” He stood perfectly still and watched her as she reached for the hem of her shirt. He didn’t know what to say or do; he was paralyzed and spellbound. Unfortunately, his body knew exactly what to do. It got hard and began to throb with need. Then Miracle laughed, winking mischievously at Hardy. “I’m just kidding, too,” she said, turning back to open the door. She stepped through it and stopped, tilting her face up to the sun that was pouring onto the stoop. Hardy stayed inside for a few extra seconds, taking deep breaths and trying to calm his body. He knew right then that if things ever got to the physical point with Miracle, it would be the most amazing experience of his life. He knew it as certainly as he knew the sun would rise in the morning.

Finally, Miracle turned to him and smiled again. “You ready?” “Yep,” Hardy replied, hoping for a lightness in his tone that he didn’t yet feel. He was still quelling the urge to carry Miracle back to her bedroom, peel off her clothes and kiss every square inch of her perfectly formed body. Silently, Hardy followed Miracle across her back yard, through a field and into a small patch of woods that lay between her subdivision and the river Hardy knew ran behind it. He had to purposely push thoughts of the river out of his mind, because that made him think of swimming with Miracle, which made him think of her in a bathing suit, which made him think of her without a bathing suit. It didn’t lead to a comfortable place for him, so he determined to avoid it altogether. “So,” Miracle said, stopping a little ways into the forest. “Where would be the best place to find bugs in the woods?” “Let’s look for a fallen tree or an old stump. I’d say those type places would be as good as any for a bunch of bugs to hide out.” Miracle nodded once. “Fallen trees. Old stumps. Gotcha.” With that, Hardy and Miracle began to walk slowly across the bracken-strewn ground, side by side, in search of the perfect safe haven for insects. “Over there!” Miracle called several minutes later, pointing out to her right. She took off in that direction and Hardy followed her. Sure enough, there was a fallen tree and, at its base, the stump it had likely been separated from some time ago. Miracle placed one tennis-shoe shod foot against the tree and pushed. It didn’t move at all.

Didn’t even rock, so she moved to the stump and squatted down to examine the dirt surrounding it. Hardy pushed on the fallen tree as well and got it to move a little. Refusing to consider that his motivation might include showing off for Miracle, he squatted down in front of the felled tree and put his hands against it, pushing with all his might. He managed to move the tree enough to unsettle it from its trench, exposing to light and air and inspection a variety of critters that wiggled and squirmed. “Here’s some,” Hardy said matter-of-factly, brushing off his hands. Miracle looked up. “Nice,” she admired, making Hardy puff up in pride. She left the stump and dropped to her knees in front of the deep groove the tree had left. Hardy fully expected her to squeal or act squeamish over the fastmoving bugs, but Miracle surprised him yet again. “Come here, you,” she said, reaching for a millipede as it slithered by looking for a new home. Miracle gently picked up the bug, letting it crawl over the back of first one hand, then the other. She smiled at it as she worked her hands to keep the arthropod from getting away. She let it slither up her arm a ways before she caught it on the backs of her fingers and brought it back down again. She even giggled once when it crawled across her palm. “That tickles.” When she looked up at Hardy, he figured his face must’ve shown his surprise. “What?” Hardy shook his head. “I just never expected that you might be comfortable with bugs.” “Why is that?” Hardy shrugged. “I don’t know. Most girls I know would’ve screamed if that thing got anywhere near them,

much less on them.” It was Miracle’s turn to shrug. “I used to be afraid of them. Terrified even, but then I decided not to be.” “Just like that?” “Just like that.” Hardy figured that’s exactly how it happened, amazingly. It was obvious that Miracle had decided to live her life, really live it, to the best of her ability and nothing was going to stand in her way, not even the fear of nature’s creepiest crawlers. Miracle returned her attention to the millipede and continued to play with it, so Hardy got out his camera and started taking photos. Even through the lens, she was captivating. And Hardy was captivated. More and more with every minute he spent in her company. With a crooked grin in place, Miracle looked up at Hardy. “You aren’t afraid of this little guy, are you?” “No. Why?” Hardy could tell by her expression that she was up to no good. When she stood to her feet, he knew he was right. “Then give me your hand.” “I’m holding the camera. Maybe later.” “Then put the camera down.” “One of us has to go back with some pictures or—” “Oh, no! No excuses. Put the camera down or he’s going down your shirt.” When he didn’t immediately comply, Miracle lunged at Hardy and, reflexively, Hardy jerked away. Miracle giggled in delight. “Ohmigod! You are! You’re afraid of bugs.” “No, I’m not,” Hardy defended. “Just those things. All

those legs…they’re nasty.” He shuddered involuntarily, which just sent Miracle into more giggles. She waved her hand in front of him and he leaned as far away as he could. After teasing him for another minute, she sobered. “Seriously, they’re not that bad.” Hardy was still eyeing the millipede skeptically. “Do you trust me?” Hardy’s eyes flickered up to Miracle’s. The humorous light had faded from her eyes. He could see that she really wanted to know. “Yes,” he answered. And he did. For some reason, he knew he could trust her with his life. Maybe more than he could trust anyone else he knew. “Then give me the camera and lay down.” “What? You’re cra—” “You said you trusted me.” Hardy looked down into the mesmerizing emerald pools of Miracle’s eyes. There was seriousness in them, but also something else, something that burned there and warmed him from the inside out. Without a word, he handed her the camera, dropped into a squat then stretched out in the leaves right at her feet. He watched her as she knelt near his right elbow, struggling to keep the millipede from getting away as she juggled the camera. When she settled back on her haunches, she leaned over Hardy. “Close your eyes.” With a dramatically loud sigh, Hardy complied, but he wasn’t worried. No, if anything he felt excited at the prospect of being at her mercy such as he was. First, he felt her touch his hand, turning it over, palm up, and running her fingers along his. He shivered. Then

Hardy felt the millipede. When his heart increased its pace, Hardy knew it wasn’t the legs she let crawl over his skin that did it. Not, it was the feel of Miracle touching him that excited him. Her fingers skated up his arm and stopped at the inside of his elbow, herding the millipede. Then she ran it back to his palm. His breath caught in his chest when she raised the hem of his shirt just enough to expose his belly. He felt her fingers skim lightly over his abs, causing them to contract. He thought he could feel the tickle of the millipede, but he couldn’t be sure. All his senses were trained on Miracle—her fingers, her scent, her breathing, her warmth. Hardy heard the clicking of the camera, but he paid it little attention. He felt Miracle’s fingers back on his arm and then up around his neck. They drifted across his forehead, followed by the scampering legs of the millipede, but still Hardy didn’t care. He didn’t care what else was happening around him, as long as Miracle didn’t stop touching him. When the arthropod took off down the other side of his neck, Hardy felt Miracle lean over him, chasing the millipede with her fingers as it ran down his other arm. He opened his eyes and saw Miracle’s breasts near his face, her stomach pressed to his. Instantly, he was rigid. Miracle chased the millipede down his other arm to his hand, where it rested on his stomach. As she worked her fingers around the bug, Hardy saw her eyes stop somewhere in the vicinity of his zipper and she paused. Color bloomed in her cheeks and Hardy knew she’d noticed his current state of arousal. Although he knew he should feel sheepish, he couldn’t bring himself to feel

anything but desire. Miracle wanted him, too. And now he knew it. Though nearly imperceptible, Hardy was watching Miracle closely enough to detect her reaction— the way she caught her breath, the slight widening of her eyes, the way they flickered several times to his crotch, the parting of her lips, her shallow breathing. She was practically panting, as was he. Finally, she looked up at him and he knew. He was right. She wanted him. Maybe even as much as he wanted her. Miracle’s pupils were dilated. She said nothing, just continued to watch him, her hand resting on his stomach, perfectly still. Hardy had no idea where the millipede had gotten off to and he really didn’t care. His focus was on Miracle and the moment they were sharing. Nothing else mattered. Until he felt it crawling across his ribs up under his shirt. With a yelp, Hardy rolled onto his side and then to his feet, pulling his shirt away from his body and brushing his hand over his skin. Finally, the millipede dropped out. When he looked down at Miracle, he could tell she was trying not to laugh. Although she had her hand over her mouth, he didn’t need to see her lips to know she was smiling. The corners of her eyes were crinkled and the bright green orbs sparkled with barely-contained mirth. Hardy put his hands on his hips. “Go ahead.” Keeping her hand pressed tightly to her lips, Miracle shook her head. “Seriously, go ahead.” Hardy saw her eyes water and she squeezed them shut, shaking her head again.

“Fine. I’ll help you then.” And then he fell on her, wrestling her over and tickling her sides mercilessly. She pulled her hand away from her mouth to fight him off, giggling uncontrollably and writhing to get away from him. “Laugh at me, will ya?” Hardy said, working his fingers up and down her sides. He didn’t notice that her shirt was coming up as he did so, exposing her skin to his touch. But she did. Miracle’s laughter died off and she quieted, pushing gently at Hardy’s hands so that she could lower her shirt. Hardy glanced down just in time to see her cover the scar. When she’d righted her clothes, Miracle stood to her feet and dusted the forest floor debris from her pants. “Well, I’d say we got plenty of pictures for this assignment. I guess we’d better head back.” Without a word, she swiped up Hardy’s camera and walked to pick up the bag off the ground, tucking the camera safely inside as she walked away. With or without him, she was heading back. Hardy didn’t know what to say, or if he should say anything. He got the feeling she was more embarrassed than anything, in which case drawing more attention to it with an apology would only make things worse. With that in mind, he followed Miracle back to her house and let her say her stilted goodbyes. Then, much as he loathed doing it, he left her in peace without saying another word.

CHAPTER ELEVEN The next day, Miracle avoided Hardy. She wasn’t rude about it or so blatant that it was hurtful, but he could tell she was avoiding him. She showed up late for Chem Lab and squeezed into a seat right near the door, far from Hardy. She left as soon as the bell rang. Hardy’s one saving grace would’ve been their shared photography class, but Mr. Gault made individual assignments. Hardy’s was in the field. Miracle’s was in the gymnasium, where afternoon sun poured in through all the windows. She wasn’t the only one assigned the gym either, so there was no chance Hardy could catch her in there alone and talk to her. He didn’t really fret, though, thinking he’d have a chance the next day to test the waters with her. Only he didn’t. Miracle did an amazing job of avoiding him all week, and the longer it went on, the pricklier Hardy became. Not only was he bothered by her reaction to the whole stomach debacle, he’d come to the realization that he was increasingly miserable without her. He couldn’t help but wonder if avoiding him was taking a toll on Miracle. Although she acted no different—she was still her dreamy, sweetly smiling self when he saw her—the dark circles beneath her eyes and the uncharacteristic pallor of her skin made him wonder. It also scared him. He couldn’t discount her having a legitimate health issue, which worried him even more than her avoidance of him. All in all, Miracle was driving him crazy.

By the time Friday rolled around, Hardy was in a terrible mood and he’d decided that he was going to pay Miracle a visit on Saturday. If he could wait that long. At the very least, he had to know that she was okay, physically. “You coming over this afternoon?” Nate asked that morning when Hardy arrived at his locker. Hardy was almost completely out of touch with what was going on with his friends. He’d done nothing but obsess about Miracle. He knew his friends had kept him in the loop; he’d simply paid their words—and their plans—zero attention. “Huh?” Hardy was clueless as to what Nate was talking about. “Dude, I told you on Tuesday that I was having a pregame party at my house this afternoon. You said you were coming.” “I did?” Nate snorted. “Yeah, you did. What’s your deal, man?” “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” “A lot of a five foot brunette maybe?” Nate teased with a knowing grin. “Drop it, Nate. I’m not in the mood.” “I can see that,” he murmured. “But, if you want some cheering up, especially the kind that involves eighty proof, stop by.” With that, he shut his locker and sauntered off. Hardy sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair in frustration, as he’d done a thousand times of late. Miracle had turned his world upside down and now he was lost without her. She was all he could think about and it was wrecking his life. After lunch, Hardy decided to go to Nate’s. He could use

the distraction. Besides, he wanted to prove to himself that he could do just as well without Miracle as she seemed to be doing without him. Hardy drove around for a while before he went to Nate’s. Before he realized where he was going, he was on Miracle’s street. He’d wondered several times what she was up to this Friday afternoon. When he saw a Jeep parked in front of her house, the rag top and doors taken off to enjoy the beautiful, sunny afternoon, Hardy thought with a sinking heart that he knew exactly what Miracle was doing. Or at the very least with whom she was spending her time. Jonah. Gritting his teeth and using every ounce of his willpower not to speed away, Hardy turned his car in the direction of Nate’s. When he arrived, the party was in full swing. As usual, Cheyenne was at the center of everything, surrounded by a group of her friends. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop her from seeing him. Immediately, she left them and made her way to him. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?” she gloated. “I’m not here to see you, Cheyenne. I’m here because it’s my best friend’s party. That’s it.” Hardy started to walk off, but Cheyenne stepped into his path. “I don’t know why you’re doing this. You know we belong together. But if you really need to have your… fling with this girl, then I can wait. I love you that much.” Hardy examined Cheyenne’s flawless face. He smirked when he saw absolutely nothing beneath that perfect exterior. She was cold and shallow and had no clue what

real love was. Until recently, he hadn’t either. But he did now. The way he felt about Miracle made what he’d felt for Cheyenne pale in comparison. It made him want to laugh at Cheyenne’s ridiculous statement. But he didn’t. There was no sense stirring up a hornet’s nest. “I’m not having a fling, Cheyenne,” Hardy stated matterof-factly before turning to go find Nate. He was beginning to regret coming. When Hardy finally found Nate, he was in the rec room with Charlie and Robert. They were standing at the bar behind the pool table, preparing to do shots of tequila. He knew from experience that they were just blowing off steam. Getting drunk or even getting a buzz before a game was strictly a no-no. They’d get kicked off the team, no questions asked, if that ever happened. “Shot time, dude!” Nate called when Hardy stopped in the doorway. Hardy considered it. He wanted desperately to forget about Miracle for just a little while, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. All the tequila in the world couldn’t get her out of his mind and he knew it. She was in his head and in his heart to stay. With a smile, he politely declined. “Nah, but thanks, man. I’m headed home. I just wanted to stop by for a sec. I’ll see you guys tonight.” Shaking his head in pity, Nate walked around the pool table and approached Hardy. “You got it bad, don’t you?” Hardy knew Nate wasn’t harassing him; he could tell by his tone. He was simply stating what he thought to be fact. And he just happened to be right. Smiling, Hardy tapped his fist against the one Nate

presented. He didn’t answer Nate’s question, didn’t even acknowledge that he’d heard him. But in both their minds, that meant agreement. “See you tonight.” With that, Hardy turned and walked out of the house, not even glancing in Cheyenne’s direction as he passed. He just wanted out of there. If he couldn’t be with the one person he wanted most, he’d rather be alone. ******** Because of his ritual on Fridays and his usual absence from the house, Hardy’s family had made a habit of going out to dinner before his games. Clay would ride the bus to the country club where their mother, Olivia, was found every Friday afternoon, ruling the Middleton world. Then, later, the two of them would meet up with Hardy’s father at a restaurant when he got off work. Wayne Hardy believed in ritual, even in his own life. That being the case, Hardy knew he would have the house to himself, which was exactly what he wanted—to be miserable in peace. He was stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, when he heard the garage door. His father stomped into the living room. “What are you doing here?” His face was a thundercloud and Hardy was immediately cautious, never mind that he could’ve asked his father the same thing. Slowly, as if the speed of his movements could somehow soothe his father’s temper, Hardy sat up. “I went to Nate’s for a while then decided to come home before the game.” “Where’s Cheyenne?” “Dad, I told you—” “And I told you that your future is more important than anything else right now. How could you be so selfish and

irresponsible?” Hardy wanted to point out that breaking up with someone you had come to loathe was hardly the definition of irresponsible, but he said nothing. He knew from years of experience that, in instances like these, silence was his best option. So he sat, calmly watching his father, wishing he’d stayed at Nate’s after all. “Well, pack a bag while you’re here. I’m taking us to the lake for the weekend.” Wayne Bradford turned and stalked off toward his office, slamming the door on any further conversation. In a way, Hardy was relieved. It could’ve been much worse. But his father’s dictatorial rule still burned in his gut. Hardy couldn’t wait to get away from home and start his own life somewhere else. As he made his way up the stairs, his desire to escape his father gave way to the familiar feelings of guilt and obligation. Hardy was afraid of how his mother and brother would fare in the house without him there to protect them, to bear the brunt of his father’s temper. Although he was much younger than Clay when his father first took his fists to Hardy in a fit of rage, Hardy knew that in his absence, his father might turn on his baby brother after all. And Hardy could never let that happen. Pushing those thoughts aside, Hardy obediently packed a bag. His visit to Miracle’s house might have to happen sooner rather than later. ******** Hardy didn’t think he’d ever had a worse game. He’d been sacked three times, he’d fumbled twice and he’d thrown four interceptions. That had to be the biggest

career fail in the history of the world. His concentration hadn’t been the best from the start, but once he’d seen Miracle in the stands with Jonah, things had gone downhill at an alarming rate. It didn’t help that occasionally Hardy would glimpse his father, glaring at him from the stands. He could almost feel the heat of his anger and disappointment all the way down on the field. His mother had no doubt noticed; she looked as nervous as a turkey on Thanksgiving. Clay was curiously absent. Hardy hoped he had enough sense to stay near the concession stand with his friends, far away from Wayne Bradford. As important as all of that was, however, Miracle took up the majority of Hardy’s available brain space. Even when he wasn’t looking at her, he was picturing her in his head. Once, he looked up and saw Jonah with his arm around her, his head bent toward hers as he spoke into her ear. Hardy’s blood boiled with the desire to throw the football into the stands as hard as he could and ping Jonah right in the side of his perfect blond head. But he didn’t. Instead, he just played incredibly bad football. Yeah, that’ll show him, Hardy thought snidely. By the end of the game, Hardy was a little less conflicted about spending the weekend at the lake. Yes, he would be trapped with his disgruntled father, but he would hopefully find distraction there. Anything to help him not think about Miracle constantly was a good alternative as far as he was concerned. The one definite upside would be that he couldn’t go see her, which would’ve been a bad idea anyway, what with Jonah obviously hanging around. At

least he knew she was all right. If she were sick, she wouldn’t be at the game. Maybe the pale skin and dark circles meant she was just as miserable as he was. Then again, she didn’t look very miserable tonight. Shaking his head to clear it, Hardy decided he wasn’t dreading the trip nearly as much as he had prior to the game. He needed to be away from Miracle. If he couldn’t be with her, he needed to find a way not to torture himself over her. Maybe he’d find that at the lake. ******** As usual, there was a party after the game. This time, Hardy didn’t have to think of a plausible excuse not to go. He had to get home for the family trip to the lake. It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway and saw the familiar little red convertible that Hardy became uneasy. What was Cheyenne doing at his house? With a deep sigh, Hardy parked and made his way inside. Cheyenne was sitting in the living room, laughing with his family. “There you are,” Wayne Bradford said cheerfully. “Glad you made it home. You’re lucky you had a car to drive after a game like that.” He laughed to take the sting out of his words, but everyone in his family knew was that there was more than a grain of truth to what the elder Bradford was saying. He’d obviously contemplated taking Hardy’s car. His charade was strictly for Cheyenne’s benefit. Hardy smiled tightly at his father’s “teasing.” “I could’ve skipped the lake trip and spent the weekend with Nate. I’m sure he’d have let me borrow his truck.” “But that would’ve been rude to poor Cheyenne. She’s going along specifically to keep your company.”

“What?” Hardy couldn’t keep the surprise and displeasure from his voice. Wayne’s eyes glinted, daring Hardy to embarrass him. “Yes, I invited her to come along. You two always loved the lake so much, why not make it a happy reunion?” Hardy wanted to inform his father (and Cheyenne) that there would be no reunion of any kind, but he could tell that his father was still in a snit. Likely an even worse one than earlier. After the game, Hardy was surprised that his father hadn’t done something drastic, something much worse than taking his car and shoving his ex-girlfriend down his throat. With another tight smile, Hardy excused himself, needing a minute to cool down and think. “I guess I’d better get my bag then.” He didn’t wait for anyone’s permission; he just stalked away toward the stairs. He took the steps two at a time, his blood on fire. He didn’t stop until he was seated on the end of his bed, behind closed doors. He dropped his head into his hands. He still couldn’t believe how high-handed his father could be sometimes. There were no limits to what he’d do to get what he wanted, to force others to bend to his will. None. A light knock made Hardy grit his teeth. Unless it was Clay, he had no desire to see anyone else in his house. At times like these, he blamed his mother just as much as his father, mainly because she’d stood by all his life and let his father do whatever he wanted. Even beat his son. “What?” he snapped. There was no answer, only the creak of the door as it slowly opened. When Cheyenne stepped through the

opening and closed the door behind her, Hardy jumped up from the bed and walked to the other side of the room, stopping to cross his arms over his chest. “What do you want, Cheyenne?” “Look, Hardy,” she began, moving to perch on the edge of the bed in the exact spot he’d just vacated. “I know this isn’t the way you wanted to spend your weekend, but your dad called me before the game tonight, begging me to come. He just wants what’s best for you. Can’t you just humor him for one weekend and pretend like we’re getting along?” She sounded calm and rational. She also sounded clueless. Cheyenne had no idea what his father was really like, what kind of a monster lurked beneath that polished surface. Hardy had always taken great pains to hide any marks his father had left on him, first out of fear of his father’s wrath then out of fear for his mother and brother. He worried that if Social Services removed him from the home under those type circumstances, humiliating his father that way, that there would be hell to pay at home. Pure hell. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Cheyenne.” “Then tell me. Help me understand. I don’t see why this is such a huge deal.” She paused, casting her eyes down docilely. “Unless you had plans with someone else, that is.” Hardy knew better than to fall for her ploys. Cheyenne was up to something and he knew it. He just didn’t know what. Biting his tongue, Hardy rubbed the back of his neck, squeezing the tense muscles he felt there. He knew arguing was not the wisest way to start the weekend, not when he would be locked up with two people that irked him

most in the world. He was smart enough to realize when to play it cool. Hardy sighed. “I’m just surprised. That’s all. And, after that game, I’m grouchy. But I’ll get over it. Let’s just try to get through this, okay?” That must’ve been something close to what Cheyenne wanted to hear. She perked up immediately. “Just pretend like things are getting better between us and he’ll be fine. He just wants you to be happy.” “Cheyenne, I’m gonna go along with this weekend thing, but you and I both know we are not getting back together.” Although she looked thwarted, Hardy could tell she wasn’t convinced. He doubted her ego would allow her to believe it was possible to be dumped and spurned by the same person in less than a week. “Whatever you say, Hardy,” she said, smiling sweetly. Nope. She wasn’t convinced. Resigned, Hardy grabbed the bag he’d packed earlier. He made a point to slide his cell phone charger into the side pocket of the long, blue duffel. Even though he doubted he’d use it, it was some small comfort to him knowing that he could at least call or text Miracle if he was so inclined. It made him feel not so separated from her. Walking past Cheyenne without a word, Hardy carried his bag down the stairs, out the door and into the garage where he tossed it into the back of his father’s Navigator. Hardy was almost back in the living room when he had a moment of inspiration. He decided to drive himself to the lake. At least maybe he wouldn’t feel so trapped if he had a means of escape. As he retraced his steps and transferred his bag from the

Navigator to his car, he debated the best way to go about it. It was then he realized his father had provided him with the perfect excuse. He just didn’t know it. When Hardy stopped in the living room doorway, he announced without preamble, “I think I’ll drive, too, so that Cheyenne and I can talk.” Hardy smiled at Cheyenne, really selling it. “If that’s okay with you, of course.” Cheyenne was beaming. “That sounds perfect.” Although his attention was trained on Cheyenne, Hardy didn’t miss his father’s smug grin. He didn’t let it bother him, though. Daddy dearest just didn’t know who was playing whom. Hardy had the sudden urge to laugh. It felt incredible to finally get one over on the great Wayne Bradford. Soon after, both Hardy and his father were pulling out of the driveway, heading inland toward their house on a small lake there. Most people thought they were crazy for leaving the coast in favor of a lake, but Hardy’s father liked the solitude of the spot and, in the Bradford household, that was all that mattered. Knowing that he’d succeeded in outwitting his father kept Hardy smiling for the lion’s share of the seventy minute trip. He even managed to engage Cheyenne in some small talk. He was nice. She was nice. It wasn’t his nature to be mean and rude after all, and he had led her to believe that they’d talk. So he talked. It wasn’t until they were about fifteen minutes away from their destination that his plan began to backfire a bit. “So, what’s the deal with you and that weird Miracle? Just tell me up front.”

“She’s not weird, Cheyenne. Just because she doesn’t follow you and your plastic friends around doesn’t make her weird.” “Then what does it make her?” “Smart.” “Ha. Ha. Very funny. Seriously, Hardy, what is your deal? Is it just that you want in her pants? Because I can think of twenty girls that are a lot prettier than her that would put out for you in a heartbeat.” “What?” Hardy said, flabbergasted. “No! Good god, Cheyenne, have you always been like this?” “Like what? Willing to do anything to keep you? Yes. It’s just that I’ve never had to before. You’ve never acted like this before. I’m trying to be understanding here.” “Giving someone permission to go sleep around, offering to find them someone to cheat on you with is sick, Cheyenne, not understanding! That’s not love. That’s…I don’t even know what that is, but it’s not healthy.” “Then what is it? What does she have that I don’t have?” A soul? Hardy wanted to say, but he didn’t. He bit his tongue. That would be going too far. Cheyenne obviously had some pretty significant issues that he’d either never recognized or had somehow managed to overlook. That wasn’t very hard to do with someone as beautiful and sexually adventurous as Cheyenne. But that wasn’t enough for him anymore. He wanted more. He wanted substance and depth and love. He wanted Miracle. It was as simple as that. At his continued silence, Cheyenne turned in her seat toward him, asking again, “What is it, Hardy? Tell me.” “I don’t know, Cheyenne. There’s just something about

her. It’s just…she’s just…it’s like she has a beautiful soul.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew how cheesy they sounded. The thing was, they were true, cheesy or not. He couldn’t describe it any better than that. “So you’re saying what? I’m a bad person?” Hardy glanced over at Cheyenne. Was she? He thought about that before he answered. “No, you’re not a bad person, Cheyenne. You’re just a little…selfabsorbed.” Hardy didn’t want to start a fight, and he thought his explanation was reasonable. Although he thought she was likely quite a bit more than just self-absorbed, he didn’t really think she was a terrible person; she was just not even in the same league as Miracle. “I can be better, Hardy. I can try harder.” For a second, Hardy felt sorry for her. She really was messed up. “Nobody’s perfect, Cheyenne. We can all do better, but do it for yourself, not for me. Not for anyone else.” She turned to face the windshield once more. Hardy could see the frown that creased her forehead and noticed her chewing her lip. Maybe she was really listening to him, really taking it in and thinking about it. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she needed to know how she was perceived by others, that she didn’t always say and do the nicest things. Finally she spoke. Hardy realized he was wrong about how she’d assimilated the information. “You’re right, Hardy. Nobody’s perfect. Everyone has flaws. And I’m sure little Miss Miracle is nowhere near as perfect as you think she is. You’ll see that soon enough.” “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hardy could feel his hackles rising at what it seemed she was insinuating. Cheyenne looked at him and smiled. He was certain if a viper could smile, that’s what it would look like. It made him feel more than a little uneasy about what she might be capable of. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” “So help me, Cheyenne, if you—” “Don’t bother with your threats, Hardy. If she’s even half the person you think she is, then neither of you has anything to fear, right?” Hardy clenched and unclenched his teeth, struggling to keep his calm. “Be very careful, Cheyenne.” His voice was low and deadly, even to his own ears. “You, too, Hardy,” she countered. It was going to be a long weekend.

CHAPTER TWELVE Shortly after arriving at the lake house, Hardy claimed exhaustion so he could escape to his room. Even though he really was tired, he wasn’t able to sleep for thinking of Miracle. He talked himself into and out of texting her at least a dozen times. He tossed and turned and wrestled with the covers as much as he wrestled with how to handle things with Miracle. It would’ve helped him to know where he stood with her. And where Jonah stood with her. Was she serious about him again? Or was he just an old habit, a comfort from her other life? The more Hardy thought about the Miracle he’d come to know, the more he convinced himself that she didn’t have any real feelings for Jonah, that she was more than likely just too sweet and nice to blow him off. Or at least that’s what Hardy told himself. After that, it didn’t take much for Hardy to convince himself to text her. He used the excuse that if she really didn’t have feelings for Jonah, he wouldn’t be stepping on anybody’s toes. He typed and deleted the message what felt like a hundred times before he hit the wrong button the hundredth time and sent it by accident. As he stared at the words, he tried to imagine how Miracle would interpret them.

I’m sorry about the other day in the woods. I’ve missed you at school. After agonizing about it for a while, Hardy finally decided

to let it go, reminding himself what’s done is done. He couldn’t undo it and texting more in an attempt at damage control would likely only make things worse. So, putting his phone aside, Hardy turned onto his side and tried to put it —and Miracle—out of his mind. When he heard the ding of an incoming message, he nearly rolled out of bed scrambling to grab his phone.

My fault. Not yours. And I can’t explain why, but I miss you, too. Hardy’s heart raced. Suddenly, he was no longer the least bit tired; he was elated. Sitting up in bed, Hardy cautioned himself not to read too much into the short message. Two questions chased each other through his brain: what did the message mean and

what did he want it to mean. He’d been so wrapped up in just experiencing Miracle, in being in awe of her that he hadn’t really taken the time to think about what he wanted from her. But he needed to. Miracle had been through so much. A girl like that deserved his thoughtfulness rather than his impulsiveness, his selfishness. As he sat in the dark thinking about her—the way she made him feel, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, the way she viewed the world, her strength, her kindness—he realized that all he wanted from her was time. Time with her. Time in her presence. All the other things he thought about were things he’d like to do for her. Well, with the exception of the long list of things he wanted to do to her. Hardy felt himself harden just thinking about sex with Miracle, so he pushed the thoughts aside. Miracle deserved more than just his lust, too. And she would get it.

What she probably didn’t realize was that she already had it. She just had to accept it. He was already hers for the taking. Impulsively, Hardy typed a response.

Can I see you? He didn’t care that his father would freak if he found out. He didn’t care that it was over an hour’s drive each way. He didn’t care that it was the middle of the night. He didn’t care that he was technically at the lake house with someone else. His heart was already back in Middleton. With Miracle. The rest was just logistics. He held his breath as he awaited a response. The screen went black in its silence. He hoped she didn’t cuss him out for his audacity, although he couldn’t imagine Miracle doing any such thing. When finally she responded, Hardy’s pulse thrummed with anxiety. And anticipation.

Now? Hardy smiled. At least it wasn’t a no.

No, in about an hour. Viewing her answer as a good sign, Hardy got up and hurriedly pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. They’d been having unseasonably cool weather, where the temperature would drop down into the fifties at night. He was sure if she agreed, he’d have to see her outdoors. He was pushing his feet into tennis shoes when his phone sounded again. He held his breath as he picked it up to read the display.

Park at the dead end and text me when you get here. I’ll come out. Hardy pumped his fist in the air then felt ridiculous for

being so inordinately pleased. He wanted to tell himself that Miracle was just a girl, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Miracle wasn’t just a girl. She was…something special. He paused only long enough to text her on my way before sneaking quietly out his bedroom door to peek down the hall. Thankfully, the house was quiet. It appeared everyone had gone to bed. Carefully avoiding all the squeaky boards he’d identified over the years, Hardy made his way silently from the house. The one thing he didn’t take into account was the sound of his engine cranking. He considered the amplitude of it, which was fairly low since it was a newer model, and the proximity of his car to his parents’ bedroom. He was fairly certain he’d wake them if he attempted it, so he decided to throw the car into neutral, push it out of the driveway and down the road a ways before starting it up. It sounded like a solid plan, only the driveway was gravel. The deafening crunch of the rocks under the tires made it necessary for Hardy to go slower. It also made getting purchase with his feet more difficult. That plus the slight downward slope of the grade made it harder to push. By the time he rolled the car out into the road, he was already winded and sweating. Once he got it going on a level surface, the car moved more easily. At that point, it was the power steering that posed a problem. It made it nearly impossible to make even small corrections in the car’s direction. Hardy gritted his teeth as he struggled to turn the wheels. It occurred to him that a lesser-determined person would’ve given up already. But not Hardy. He was

apparently willing to go to possibly unhealthy lengths just to see Miracle for a few minutes, but that realization didn’t stop him either. He could practically smell her lavender skin, taste her sweet mouth and hear her infectious giggle and that spurred him on. No, there was no stopping him tonight. Once he had distanced himself enough from the house to start the engine, Hardy jumped into his car and did just that, speeding away and hoping that his father didn’t get up and notice his car missing. He maintained a fairly dangerous speed all the way back to Middleton, arriving almost a full ten minutes ahead of schedule. When he parked at the dead end, he cut the engine and texted Miracle just as she’d instructed. His heart was flying as he watched out the window for her. He got no response to his text and had begun to think he’d been stood up when almost fifteen minutes had elapsed with no sign of Miracle. He wasn’t angry, as he should have been; he was just incredibly disappointed. He felt like he’d been starved for sunshine and had now been deprived the chance of standing in its warmth. He was debating whether he should send another text or just leave when movement caught his eye. He saw a small dark figure darting between houses across the street. His stomach twitched in excitement. Surely it had to be Miracle. He watched for the shape to come out the other side of the house he’d seen it go behind, but it never did. After several minutes, he realized that it hadn’t been Miracle after all. “Probably a deranged psychopath that stalks people in

parked cars,” Hardy mumbled under this breath, not entirely sure his jest had been that humorous. Strange, awful things happened like that all the time in cities across the country. He could very well be the first incidence in Middleton. Just then, something popped up and smacked the glass of his windshield. Hardy jumped like he’d been shot. His heart didn’t slow its erratic beat until long after Miracle had dissolved into peals of laughter. After he regained his breath, Hardy’s pulse still skipped, but for an entirely different reason. Miracle was standing outside his window in black jeans and a black sweatshirt that had the neck cut out of it. She was wearing the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “Come on,” she said, loudly enough for him to hear through the closed window. Without hesitation, Hardy removed the keys from the ignition and hopped out to follow her. “Where are we going?” he asked in hushed tones. “There’s a trail that winds along the river. We can get to it without going through the woods. I thought it would be pretty at night.” “Sounds good.” Hardy didn’t care where they went, as long as he was with her. They walked back up the street in silence. After a while, Miracle turned off the road to cross a field that lay at the other end of her small subdivision. “So, what are we doing here, Hardy?” “What do you mean?” Miracle stopped, closing her eyes and tipping her head back as she deeply inhaled the cool, lightly scented night air. When she exhaled, she looked up at Hardy.

“You have a girlfriend and—” “No, I don’t. Cheyenne and I broke up.” “So you weren’t with her tonight?” Hardy’s mouth worked itself open and closed several times like a fish out of water. “That wasn’t my idea. It was my father’s.” “So you were with her?” “Yes. My dad invited her to the lake house for the weekend. He wants us to get back together.” “But you don’t?” “No!” Hardy cringed. “Then why not just say so?” “I’ve told them—both of them—that we aren’t getting back together.” “And yet your father still invited her.” “Yes, but…” Hardy could tell Miracle was dubious as she started to walk again. It sounded suspicious, even to him. “My father doesn’t listen to me. He doesn’t care what I want. He just does what he thinks is best.” “Have you talked to him about it? I mean, really talked to him?” Hardy laughed bitterly. “No. You don’t talk to Wayne Bradford that way.” “He didn’t seem like such a bad guy.” “You just don’t know him.” Miracle stopped and looked up at Hardy again. Her eyes searched his. He thought he could practically see the wheels of her intuition turning. She was putting it all together. When she’d finally drawn her own conclusions, a look of sadness slid into place over her features. She put her hand

on his arm. “You’re afraid of him,” “Not anymore.” “Then what are you afraid of?” “He doesn’t pick on me so much anymore, but my mother and my brother…well, it’s just best not to make him angry.” When she’d digested what he’d said, once she fully understood the implications, she gasped. “Ohmigod, Hardy!” Moving forward, Miracle rose onto her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. Hardy had long since come to terms with having an abusive father, but never in all the years that he had been abused had he encountered such sympathy. Miracle’s reaction so warmed him, he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her close, melting into her compassion like an ice cube on hot pavement. “It’s not that bad anymore. For the most part, he stopped getting physical when I outgrew him,” Hardy mumbled into the skin of Miracle’s neck. He licked his lips; he could taste the slightly salty tang of her skin. Miracle leaned back to meet his eyes. “Wait a minute. You said you were spending the weekend at the lake house. So you left Cheyenne and your father in the middle of the night and drove all the way back here?” Hardy nodded, hoping she couldn’t see the blood he felt filling his cheeks. When put like that, it made him sound like a lovesick stalker. There’s that word again, he thought in exasperation. “For me?” she added softly, her eyes searching his face. Again, he nodded. Miracle didn’t say anything for the longest time. Hardy began to wonder if maybe he’d freaked her out a little. But

when she did finally speak, all his misgivings were erased. “How can you make me feel this way? I barely know you.” Hardy’s heart beat so hard, he thought it might burst from his chest. “I don’t know, but you do the same thing to me.” “So what are we supposed to do about it?” Hardy hated to bring it up, but he had to know. “I know what I want, but what about you? What about Jonah?” “Jonah’s just a friend. Well, at least that’s how I feel about him. I think he’s just feeling guilty.” “Guilty?” “Yeah, for buckling under the pressure.” “Pressure?” “You know, the whole sick girlfriend thing. Must run away quickly,” Miracle added in an attempt at levity. She tried to look unaffected, but the way she cast her eyes down was a dead giveaway. Hardy could tell it bothered her. “I can’t imagine anyone running away from you for any reason.” “Not yet maybe.” “Not ever.” “You say that now…” “Give me a chance, Miracle. I’ll prove it to you.” “Nobody deserves all the baggage I come with, Hardy. I should be the one running away from you.” “I’d just follow you.” Miracle laughed, but then looked at him oddly. “Why do I get the feeling you might be telling the truth?” “Because I am.” Miracle’s expression sobered, as if at the thought of something unpleasant, then cleared seconds later and she

smiled again. “Let’s walk,” she suggested, slithering out of Hardy’s arms and reaching for his hand. They walked the path along the river, holding hands and talking for hours. When they’d made the return trip, they stopped and sat in a patch of clover in the field near Miracle’s neighborhood. It wasn’t until Hardy was admiring the way the rising sun illuminated her alabaster skin that he realized what time it was. “As much as I hate to, I’m gonna have to go.” Miracle frowned. “Do you think he’ll find out you’ve been gone?” Hardy shrugged. “Nah, I don’t see how he could. He should still be asleep by the time I get back.” “Then you’d better go,” she said, rising to her feet and brushing off the seat of her pants. “Can I see you Sunday night?” Hardy hated the thought of not seeing her until then, but it would make the weekend more bearable if he had that to look forward to. Miracle smiled brightly. “Sure.” They made their way back to the road and down the street to Miracle’s house. Hardy stopped at the curb and turned toward her, his stomach swimming with anticipation. “Sorry I kept you up all night,” Hardy confessed sheepishly. Miracle giggled. “No, you’re not.” Hardy grinned. “Okay, maybe I’m not that sorry.” “Actually, I’m kinda glad you did.” Reaching forward, Hardy pulled a clover from Miracle’s hair and handed it to her. “I guess it’s never too late to bring you flowers.”

Miracle gave an exaggerated gasp, her eyes rounding as she took the tiny stem from Hardy’s fingers. “Oh, they’re…um, I mean it’s beautiful,” she teased. “I went to a lot of trouble to get you that flower. Don’t make fun,” he responded in mock seriousness. “Oh, I’m sorry. I would never make fun of your extensive efforts to make me smile.” “Actually,” Hardy said, turning serious as he reached forward to trace the corner of Miracle’s mouth, “I would do almost anything to see you smile.” Miracle’s gaze flickered from Hardy’s eyes to his mouth and back again. She licked her lips and Hardy thought he heard her catch and hold her breath as he leaned toward her. His face hovered above hers for several long tense seconds before he lowered his mouth to hers. Barely making contact, Hardy brushed his lips back and forth over Miracle’s with the gentlest of pressure. He wanted more— wanted to kiss her and touch her so much more—but he wanted to leave her with something as delicate and perfect and special as the moment they were sharing there in the orange glow of the sunrise. “I’ll see you Sunday,” he said when he lifted his head. “Sunday,” Miracle said a bit dazedly. She started up the sidewalk and Hardy saw a light come on in one of the front rooms. “That’s not your room is it?” He knew hers would have a window at the front of the house, but he wasn’t sure which one. “No, mine is the last one on the right. That’s Mila’s.” “Are you gonna get in trouble?”

Miracle chuckled. “Nah. Mila’s the wild child of the family. She’ll probably just want details.” It was Hardy’s turn to chuckle. Somehow, that fit with what little he’d seen and heard from Mila. “Cool.” “Sunday?” Miracle smiled as she walked backward up the sidewalk to her front door. “Sunday,” Hardy answered, his smile mirroring hers. When she disappeared inside her house, Hardy continued on to his car, his heart light. For the first time he could remember, he had something in his life that he really looked forward to. ******** Miracle tiptoed inside, gently closing the door behind her and creeping down the hall to her bedroom. She had just sat down on the edge of the bed to take her shoes off when Mila burst through the door. “I want details!” she loud-whispered, launching herself onto the bed behind Miracle. “What are you doing up?” “You may not have much of a social life, but I do. I was on the laptop chatting with Summer and Dane when you left. I heard the front door.” “Why did you turn your light on when we got back then?” “That was your signal to come and talk to me when you got done.” “Sorry. I didn’t know that.” “You had to know I’d want details. He is so freakin’ hot, Miracle. Ugh,” Mila moaned, flopping onto her back dramatically. She rolled over quickly, pushing her hair out of her eyes as if she had a sudden thought. “You didn’t think I’d get you in trouble, did you?”

“You? Mila, if I did even half the things you’ve tried to talk me into doing, I’d be in jail. I’m surprised this even registered on your radar.” “You kissing a boy that looks like that? Hells yeah, it did!” “So if he’d been ugly…” “Meh,” she said, waving Miracle off. “I wouldn’t care. Unless you’d slept with him. Then, I’d care.” Miracle couldn’t help but smile. Mila was too much. “You’re terrible.” “No, I’m not. Life is short. We gotta make the most of it.” Miracle always worried about how her sickness had affected Mila. Ever since she’d finished chemo, Miracle had noticed a wild abandon in Mila that she wasn’t quite sure was healthy. She didn’t want to see her sister get into trouble or end up ruining her life in her efforts to live it to the fullest. It was possible to go overboard after all. “Well, right now, the only thing I’m interested in is sleep.” With a pouty look, Mila sat up and scooted off the bed. “At least tell me he’s a good kisser.” Miracle smiled, probably a little more widely than she should have. “He’s a very good kisser.” With a dreamy sigh, Mila walked to the door. She turned back before she opened it. “He really likes you, you know. I can tell.” Miracle’s smile turned sad. “But does he like me enough to stay?” Mila and Miracle looked at each other for a moment, an unspoken sadness lingering in the air between them, before Mila twisted the knob and slipped through the door. “’Night, Miracle,” she whispered just before she shut the

door. “’Night, Mila.” And then she was gone, leaving Miracle alone with her thoughts. ******** Hardy arrived back at the lake to a quiet house. He slept until noon, blaming it on a restless night after his awful football performance. In truth, he couldn’t have cared less. All he could think about was Miracle and how sweet and funny she was, how she made his world glow with something suspiciously close to happiness. For the following thirty-six hours, Hardy’s impending meeting with Miracle hovered at the back of his mind. He was able to smile at every snide comment thrown his way and tolerate his father and Cheyenne all weekend with admirable aplomb because of Miracle, and they were none the wiser. As they were pulling out Sunday evening to head home, Hardy told his father that he’d go straight to Cheyenne’s house. His father smiled and nodded, as Hardy knew he would. And Hardy had every intention of doing exactly what he’d said. He would drop Cheyenne off at her house first thing—and then head directly to Miracle’s. After a second brief stop, it was just after eight p.m. when he rang the bell at Miracle’s house. He stood on the stoop with one hand tucked behind his back and a wide smile on his face. It was Miracle who answered the door. She was smiling, too. “Hi.” “Hi,” Hardy responded, pulling his hand from behind his back with a flourish.

He watched Miracle take in the single white daylily. She looked at its ragged stem and her eyes crinkled in laughter. He’d pulled over on the way when he’d seen some flowers at a house he passed. They were swaying near the road in the dying light, beckoning him to come and take. They were part of someone’s elaborate and wellmaintained landscape and, although he felt a bit guilty for beheading one of the flowers, he knew it would bring a smile to Miracle’s face. He gave it no more thought than that. To Hardy, there was no other justification needed. “They’re getting bigger,” she observed, her lips quivering with a suppressed smile. “Next time there might be two.” “That’s perfect! Receiving two flowers at the same time is one of the things on my bucket list,” she teased. Although Hardy felt a twinge at her reference to dying, he didn’t dwell on it, not when she was smiling into his eyes like she was. Finally, Miracle stepped back and gestured for him to come inside. “Let me put this in some water. I’ll be right back.” When Miracle came back into the living room, Hardy was staring at a family photo that pictured a sick and bald yet laughing Miracle. His stomach sloshed with nausea at the thought of what she’d been through. He turned to her and smiled as brightly as he could manage. Miracle seemed not to notice his discomfort. “So, what are we doing?” “Do you like comedy?” “Me? Like to laugh? Uh, yeah!” Hardy smiled a little more genuinely. He figured as much.

“How about a movie then? Will Ferrell has that new one out.” “Ohmigod, you had me at Will Ferrell,” she claimed happily. “A movie sounds perfect.” “If you want, we can go ahead and go now and get some ice cream first. There’s a place downtown that has this huge waffle bowl that holds five scoops of ice cream. I thought it would fit right in with your stomach-stretching, champion eater-training efforts.” Miracle giggled. “And you couldn’t be more right.” Hardy treated Miracle to the biggest edible bowl of ice cream she’d ever seen. She ate all the ice cream, but left the waffle bowl, which Hardy nibbled on after he’d finished his own much smaller cone. They laughed about everything under the sun, including her sumo-sized appetite. Hardy learned that she was not only beautiful, charming and funny, but incredibly intelligent. He’d known from the first time he saw her that she was kind-hearted, so when she dropped a twenty in the Feed the Hungry jar on the concession stand at the theater, he wasn’t surprised. Even after all that ice cream, Miracle shared a large popcorn and Coke with Hardy during the movie. She laughed until she cried more than once, enchanting Hardy even more, which he didn’t think was possible. At one point, she leaned her head over onto his shoulder as she nibbled popcorn. Hardy thought again that he wanted desperately to keep her safe and happy the rest of her days. She invited him in when he took her home and they sat in her living room trying to stump each other with movie quotes. Miracle impressed Hardy with her depth of movie

knowledge and her storehouse of useless trivia. “I think you might be an even bigger movie buff than I am, and that’s saying a lot,” Hardy declared after she’d finished him off with a quote from an 80’s John Hughes film. “When you’re sick for months at a time, you watch a lot of movies,” she answered casually. “In a way, you live vicariously through them. You have your first kiss with them, go to your first party, skip out on your prom, and drink your first beer with them.” She paused, a wistful smile fluttering across her lips before she spoke again. “You fall in love with them.” Hardy couldn’t let such an opening pass him by. “Speaking of that, have you ever been in love before?” Miracle leaned her head against the back of the couch and stared at Hardy. He thought he could drown in the fathomless depths of her shimmering eyes. “No. Have you?” Hardy shrugged, suddenly more uncomfortable with the topic now that it was turned in his direction. “No. I thought I was, but…” “Cheyenne?” Hardy’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “Yeah. I confused what everyone else wanted and what was…comfortable for feelings that just weren’t there. It wasn’t until—” He stopped abruptly. After a few seconds, Miracle raised her head and looked at him expectantly. When he didn’t finish, she prompted him. “Until what?” Taking his time before he answered, Hardy looked down to where Miracle’s hand rested on the couch between them. Reaching forward, he picked it up and carefully laced his fingers through hers. Somewhere in the back of

his mind, he wondered how anyone’s skin could be so soft. And how another’s hand could fit so perfectly within his. “I’d been noticing her selfishness for a while. I don’t know if it just got worse as time went on, or if I was really just blind to it up until then, but the day I saw you in the park, it was like a wake-up call. You were everything that she wasn’t. Everything a decent person should be and she’s just…not.” Miracle leaned her head back again, her eyes never leaving Hardy’s. “I’m sure she’s not all bad.” “See? How do you do that? How can you look at someone like her, someone who treats you like she does, someone who treats everyone like she does, and say that?” “She doesn’t treat you terribly, does she?” “Well, no, but—” “Then she can’t be all bad.” “But she—” “I’m sure she loves her family and treats them well. And she probably has a dog or a cat or something she loves.” “Well, yeah, but—” “She probably has a soft spot for her grandmother or the old man across the street that gave her candy when she was little.” “She might, but—” “See? She’s really not all bad.” Hardy sat up straighter, tired of hearing Miracle defend someone who could be as nasty as Cheyenne could. If only she knew… “Maybe not, but she’s still not you.” Miracle had been about to say something, but she stopped, her eyes flying to his. Hardy hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t meant to admit it. It just came out. He hadn’t

been thinking. “I’m not perfect, Hardy. I’m just as selfish as the next person and I—” “No, you’re not. And you’re not fooling anybody by trying to pretend you are. Maybe it’s because of what you’ve been through. Maybe it’s just the way you were born. I don’t know, but you’re special, Miracle. You may not think you’re perfect, but to some people, you’re everything they’ve ever wished for, whether they realized it or not.” Miracle said nothing. She didn’t know what to say. She simply stared in wonder at Hardy. They sat on the couch for a long time—looking into each other’s eyes, playing with each other’s fingers, taking it all in. They both knew something magical was happening. And they were both afraid, but for two totally different reasons. Miracle was thinking she’d finally fallen in love, for the first time and maybe the last, with someone who may or may not be around for very long. Hardy was thinking he’d found someone that made his past and his future not matter quite so much, someone who gave him a present that eclipsed everything else. But there was a chance he might lose her. Later, when he kissed her goodnight, it was a kiss full of promise, a kiss that said he’d be around forever, however long forever ended up being.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN The following weeks, they were inseparable. Hardy picked Miracle up and took her to school every morning and dropped her home each afternoon before football practice. Then, after he’d showered, he would go by and spend the evening with her. They studied and did homework some. They listened to music and watched television some. But mostly they laughed and talked. Hardy found someone in Miracle who understood him, who truly seemed to care about the things he had to say and what he wanted out of life. When he told her of his dreams, she would lay her head on his shoulder and dream right along with him, as if she could actually see them living their life out together. And Hardy did the same for Miracle. She would tell him of the many things on her “bucket list” and they would plan on making each one a reality. The only thing Hardy hated about it was that sometimes she made her death sound too imminent. Any time before they were a hundred and wrinkled, with ten grandkids was way too soon as far as he was concerned. But he never complained, never said anything about it. He figured it might be some sort of coping mechanism for her and he was afraid to tamper with it, no matter how much it bothered him. There were a few things on her list he was particularly curious about, things she avoided telling him about, things that made her blush. Of course, his imagination would run wild when she’d stumble and stammer over them. He wanted to press her, but thought it best if she told him in her

own time, no matter how much it tortured him in the interim. It was a Friday again and Hardy was walking Miracle to her locker. Her hand was engulfed in his and both their backpacks were slung over his shoulder. He didn’t care who saw or where they were, he’d long since discovered that he was happiest when he was touching her, even in some small way like holding her hand as they walked. And so he did. And she didn’t complain. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Can I borrow you for a while after lunch?” “A surprise? Of course you can borrow me after lunch,” Miracle agreed with a grin. “Perfect. Meet me at my car?” Miracle smiled. “I’ll be there. I’ll be the one in…” She paused to look down at what she was wearing, as if she’d forgotten how she’d dressed. “Purple. I’ll be the one in purple.” Hardy laughed as Miracle grinned up at him. If she thought of him half as much as he thought of her, he figured it was likely she did forget what she’d dressed in that morning. Hardy was sometimes surprised he remembered anything that didn’t have something to do with Miracle. She’d quickly become his entire world and he could only hope she felt the same way. He suspected that she did. Her green eyes flashed with humor and that little something special that appeared only when she looked at him. As always, it warmed him and thrilled him and made him want to protect and devour her all at the same time. But right then, at that moment, it also made him want to kiss her. So he did.

Gently, spontaneously, Hardy dipped his head and pressed his lips to Miracle’s. They were soft and pliant. Ready, as if she’d wanted it as much as he had. It was the first time he’d kissed her in public, in school, but he just couldn’t help himself. When she leaned in toward him, he realized she couldn’t either. Her lips parted the tiniest bit and Hardy slid his tongue along the gap for a quick taste. Only it wasn’t enough. The sweet interior of her mouth, still minty from her toothpaste, drew him in like a bee to honey and before he knew it, the kiss had deepened. His free hand was at her waist holding her to him and her hands were in his hair. “Get a room, Bradford,” Hardy heard a familiar voice say. It shook him from his thrall and he leaned back, sheepish. Miracle looked up at him with dazed eyes, as affected by their kiss as he’d been. They stared at each other for several seconds before smiling. It was far too easy to get carried away. Their fire was instantaneous. And allconsuming. Finally, Hardy looked up to see Robert and Charlie walking down the hall. They stopped and Robert gave him two thumbs up while Charlie pumped his hips and spanked the air. Hardy rolled his eyes and they both chuckled and walked off. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he said to Miracle. “I got carried away.” “No problem,” she said, holding back a grin. “Feel free to get…carried away as often as you like.” And then she blushed. Hardy laughed. Miracle was at once shy and

introspective, yet spicy and full of life. She never ceased to surprise him. She was an enchanting and intoxicating cocktail. When Hardy turned to leave, he was brought up short by Cheyenne standing at the end of the hall with two of her cheerleading cohorts. She was staring at him and the look on her face was murderous. He didn’t have to ask why. She’d called him a dozen times since the weekend at the lake. She’d been under the impression there was a chance they’d get back together. He was pretty sure she didn’t think so now. He gave her a quick smile and headed to his locker, walking past her and her friends without a word. She wasn’t going to ruin his good mood. No one was. He was with Miracle. The rest didn’t matter. ******** Hardy was always anxious for third and sixth periods because he shared them with Miracle. During the week she’d sat in another seat just to avoid him, someone else had claimed Miracle’s seat next to him, a girl Hardy knew had harbored a crush on him since seventh grade. Now, Miracle sitting across the room was a special brand of torture, although they made a bit of a game of it. They would steal glances at one another throughout the period, smiling knowingly and winking teasingly. Hardy must’ve thought a thousand times about walking over to Miracle, picking her up, throwing her over his shoulder, taking her to the conservatory and making love to her among the orchids for the rest of the day. Needless to say, he learned very little in that class. And then there was lunch. Miracle had made a friend,

Lucy, that shared many of her artistic interests and wasn’t a mean and nasty person like so many of the girls Hardy knew. She didn’t want to completely abandon her by sharing lunch with Hardy, so Miracle still ate with Lucy and Hardy ate with his friends, like he always had. If it were up to Hardy, he’d spend every waking minute with Miracle, but she was doing it out of consideration for her friend, a big-hearted gesture and one of the things he loved most about her, so he didn’t complain. He just watched her from afar, pretending to be interested in what his friends were doing and saying. But he wasn’t. Not in the least. Today, he watched Miracle and Lucy make their way into the sunshine, like they most often did. Lucy’s wild mass of tight blonde curls were held away from her forehead by a bright purple scarf that almost perfectly matched Miracle’s frilly shirt. That was as much attention as he paid the other girl. As always, his focus was riveted on Miracle no matter where he was or who else was around. It was a thousand wonders he hadn’t started flunking out. Lucky for him, homework was one of the excuses he’d been using to spend time with Miracle. It seemed Miracle saved him from failing just as she’d saved him from…himself. “Earth to Bradford!” Robert called. “Huh?” Hardy worked to tear his eyes from Miracle. “Man, you need therapy! That chick’s done something to your brain.” Hardy frowned. “No, she hasn’t,” he defended, but he thought Robert might be right. Miracle was all he ever thought about. “What were you saying?” Hardy directed the conversation back to Robert, but he felt the ache of the

frown he still wore. Was it really that abnormal, the way he felt about her? “I was asking if you were in for some pre-game margaritas at Los Pollos Ranchero. My cousin got a job as a bar back there and he can sneak some tequila into our ‘virgin’ drinks. After that, we’re going to the beach. What do you say, dude? You in?” “Nah. I’ve got other plans.” Robert grinned devilishly. “Plans to what? Give Miracle a ride on—” “Don’t do that, man,” Hardy warned. He knew it was just good-natured teasing, but it rankled when anyone disrespected Miracle, even if it was one of his buddies. “Do what? Out you? Like we don’t know you’re after that. Come on!” “Don’t be such a douche. It’s not like that. Just drop it.” “Oh, now I see,” Robert teased. “She won’t give it up. That’s why you’re so obsessed. You’ve never had a girl say no to you before.” “Robert, I’m serious. Watch it.” “Too many cold showers will do that to you, man,” Robert foolishly continued. “They mess with your head. You just need to get into her panties and—” Hardy was lunging for Robert when Nate stepped between them. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said quickly, putting his arms out. One hand was on Hardy’s chest and the other was pointing at Robert. “You got a death wish, Robert? Just leave him alone, dick. You’re just jealous you’ve never had sex you didn’t have to pay for.” The people around them broke into playfully insulting comments and teasing laughter, easing the tension that

had built between Hardy and Robert. Robert took the joking good-naturedly, although his face was still suspiciously red. Hardy backed off, grateful his best friend had stepped in before Hardy really lost it. He’d have to watch that in the future. He knew Miracle had gotten into his heart. Now, he had no doubt she’d gotten into his head as well. After lunch, Hardy made haste in getting to his car to await Miracle. When he saw her emerge from the double doors, waving goodbye to Lucy as she split off to the left, he straightened from where he’d been leaning against the passenger side door. Miracle looked up and smiled brightly as soon as her eyes met his. Hardy’s stomach flipped over. The closer she got, the more relaxed he felt, as if she brought with her a peace that he felt nowhere else in the world. He wondered if she felt it, too. He was pretty sure he got his answer when, rather than stopping, she walked right up to him, threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. “The days are far too long. Think I’d fit in your pocket?” she asked lightly when she leaned back to look into his eyes. The green orbs sparkled playfully and Hardy felt his heart turn to mush right inside his chest. “Today was only a half day.” “Still…” “I wish you could. I’d never go anywhere without you.” Miracle giggled and rubbed her nose against his before stepping out of his arms. “So, where are we going?” “You’ll see,” Hardy said, opening the door for her. First, Hardy drove to the mall. He parked near the main

entrance and left the car running, telling Miracle to wait there for him. He wouldn’t tell her where he was going and there were at least thirty stores inside, so she had no clue. He returned several minutes later carrying a generic plastic bag that held something heavy. Miracle couldn’t tell by the size and shape what it was, only that it was fairly compact and weighty. Hardy laid it gently in the floorboard behind his seat and then slid in behind the wheel and backed out of his spot. “Where are we going now?” Miracle asked. “You’ll see,” Hardy replied, smiling enigmatically. Miracle was already grinning by the time Hardy pulled into the lot outside the park. He knew it was one of her favorite places; he hoped today would make it special as well. “Come on,” Hardy said, climbing out and retrieving the bag from behind his seat. He met Miracle at the front of the car and took her hand in his. Hardy led her past the main park area and through a small patch of oak trees to a knoll that overlooked the collection of gazebos scattered across one corner of the park. They climbed to the top and Hardy stopped. He looked out over the landscape as if searching for something particular. Then he took Miracle by the shoulders and guided her to a specific spot. “Stand riiiiiiiight here,” he said. Hardy positioned her facing a clump of pines on the other side of the knoll rather than the gazebos. Although Miracle found it odd, she said nothing. Miracle heard the plastic bag rustle just before Hardy hung something around her neck. When she looked down,

she realized it was her camera. She gasped in delight. “It’s fixed!” “Good as new, he said.” “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she gushed, turning to wrap her arms around Hardy’s neck in an exuberant hug. “You’re welcome,” he said, brushing his lips against the side of her neck and feeling his body warm with desire. “I know it’s been a while, but lending you my camera has always been a good excuse to see you,” he admitted. “Why don’t you get it out? There’s film in it and there might be something you want to take a picture of.” Miracle leaned back and eyed Hardy suspiciously, but did as he asked. Turning back in the direction he’d placed her, she pulled the lens cap off and scanned the landscape through the viewfinder. She was on her second pass when she saw the first one rise above the tree tops. It was a single pink balloon. Although she wasn’t sure where it came from or what it meant, Miracle snapped a photo of it as soon as she saw it. She was just about to let the camera fall away from her face when she saw the others. First three or four and then ten or twenty pink balloons crept into the sky. Within seconds, hundreds filled the horizon. Miracle clicked the button on her camera and caught their ascent, capturing the way they rose and then drifted off in every direction, carried away by the light breeze. From their vantage point, the balloons looked like an enormous bouquet of round, pink flowers that grew larger by the second. When it appeared that no more balloons were being released and the others were not much more than colorful

pin pricks against a cloudless blue canvas, Miracle lowered her camera. She turned her wide green eyes on Hardy. “What was that?” “My mom’s on pretty much every committee in the town and when I overheard her talking on the phone to another lady about cancer awareness, I suggested she get some pink balloons for the survivors and bring them to the park to let them go.” He watched Miracle’s eyes fill with tears and knew how deeply she was touched. “Why?” she whispered. He didn’t need for her to elaborate; he knew what she was asking. “I don’t want you to be afraid of dying. All those people have survived cancer. You just watched hundreds of reasons to have hope drift off into the sky.” Miracle brought her hands to her trembling lips and then buried her face in them. Hardy could hear her weeping softly. Tenderly, he gathered her into his arms. She mumbled something into his chest, but he couldn’t understand her so he leaned back. “What?” “You’re gonna break my heart, aren’t you?” Hardy grabbed Miracle’s wrists and pulled them apart until they were no longer covering her tear-streaked face. “Never. I will never hurt you, Miracle.” He said it with as much sincerity and conviction as he could muster. He hoped she would believe him, because he meant it more than he’d ever meant anything in his life. Placing her hands flat against his chest to keep her balance, Miracle rose up onto her toes and gently pressed her lips to Hardy’s. It was a sweet kiss and a wet kiss, but not wet with passion. It was wet with tears. Her tears. When she pulled away, Hardy could taste salt on his lips.

Miracle eyes pleaded with him. “Please don’t.” Taking her face in his hands, Hardy leaned his forehead against hers. “I won’t,” he declared. “I promise.” ******** Hardy was trying his best to keep his mind on what the coach was saying as he sat on the bench in the locker room. He knew tonight’s game was important, but for some reason, he just couldn’t drum up any enthusiasm. He was more anxious to get out onto the field and locate Miracle in the stands. She’d promised she’d be there with Mila. As they took the field, Hardy scanned the bleachers. He didn’t see Miracle right off. Mila either. “Get your head in the game, Bradford,” Coach called to him when he almost ran into the line of cheerleaders at the sidelines. “Yes, sir,” Hardy said, dragging his eyes from the stands. A couple minutes later, Hardy walked to the center of the field for the coin toss. He called heads. It was tails. The choice of the opposing team was to get the ball in the first half. Hardy walked back to the sidelines, scanning the crowd again for any sign of Miracle. He was getting more and more frustrated the longer he couldn’t find her. He saw his family, his father glaring at him warningly. He saw many faces of people he knew, but there was no sign of Miracle. His first thought was to worry that something had happened to her. If she said she’d come, he believed her. The game started, but Hardy paid little attention to the drive. He kept turning around to scan the stands. “Dude, go talk to her so you can concentrate on the

game. Man, you are one pathetic loser!” Nate exclaimed, shaking his head. “She’s not here yet.” “She’s right over there, Hardy,” he said in exasperation, pointing to the fence that ran between the cheerleaders and the stands. Hardy’s heart picked up its pace as his eyes followed Nate’s finger right to a smiling Miracle. She was standing with her sister at the bottom of the first row of bleachers. She grinned and waved to him when he spotted her. Feeling the smile split his face, Hardy waved back. He saw Miracle say something to Mila and then turn to leave, presumably to find a seat. Quickly, Hardy left the other players and jogged to the fence, calling Miracle before she got too far. When she walked back to the fence, Hardy leaned over it and gave her a peck on the lips that made her smile and blush becomingly. “Thanks for coming.” “Miss a chance to see you in tight pants? I think not,” she teased, the color in her cheeks deepening at her audacity. “Then watch this,” Hardy said, turning to jog away and tossing her a grin back over his shoulder. She was looking at his butt. He chuckled, certain his heart might sprout wings and take flight. Mila put her arm around Miracle’s neck and said something in Miracle’s ear. Both girls laughed before Miracle smiled at him and waved again, letting Mila lead her into the stands. As Hardy, still smiling, turned back to the game, his gaze collided with Cheyenne’s furious one. He nodded once, refusing to let her ruin the moment. After that, he put as

much focus as he could back on the game. ******** Hardy had a fairly good performance. Nowhere near his best game, but nowhere near his worst either. He doubted his father would be pleased, but they’d won and that was the main thing. Hardy hated to let his teammates down. Spirits were high in the locker room. Towels were being snapped, fake jabs were being thrown, and nookies were being performed. Between that and his growing feelings for Miracle, Hardy was on cloud nine when he exited the locker room. Until he saw his father waiting for him. Wayne Bradford clapped his big hand onto Hardy’s shoulder and, with a tight squeeze, guided him away from the others. “What the hell was that?” the elder Bradford spat, careful to keep his back to the others so that no one would see his upset. “We won. What’s the big deal?” “The big deal, Hardy, is that if you don’t give a better showing in front of these scouts, they’ll pass you right over.” “I’m doing fine, Dad,” Hardy argued. “No, you’re not. And I know why. I saw you with that trailer-trash girl again and I’m here to tell you it ends tonight. No more, Hardy. Do you hear me?” “She has nothing to do with this, Dad. She—” “I don’t want to hear excuses. You’ve been screwing up left and right since you stopped seeing Cheyenne and I want it fixed.” “Dad, I—” “You let me believe you’d been spending your free time

with Cheyenne, when you’ve really been with that girl. Well, let me tell you something, mister—” “Enough, Dad!” Hardy growled. His teeth were gritted in barely controlled anger. “It’s not gonna happen with Cheyenne. I’m doing just fine and you’re just gonna have to live with my choices. I’m with Miracle. Yeah, that’s her name, Dad. Miracle. Get used to it.” Yanking his shoulder out of his father’s grasp, Hardy stalked off. A tempest of emotion was raging in the pit of his stomach. He always felt some degree of pride and accomplishment when he stood up to his father, but there was always an underlying sense of dread and regret, too. Hardy worried that one day he’d make his father mad and, rather than taking it out on him, his fists would find the tender ribs of his baby brother instead. The thought made him feel nauseous. Shaking it off, Hardy made his way to his car. He was stowing his bag in the back seat when he heard the clack of footsteps behind him. Just as he turned around, his father grabbed him by the throat and pushed him back against the cool metal of the rear door. “If you’re not going to abide by my rules, then you won’t be driving my car. Leave the keys in my office when you get home tonight. Let’s see what your freedoms are worth to you.” With that, Wayne released Hardy and strode back the way he’d come. Absently, Hardy rubbed his throat as he watched his father go. A mild sense of panic worked its way into his chest. Without a car, he wouldn’t be able to see Miracle as much. And that was unacceptable.

Before he let his emotions get out of hand, Hardy ruthlessly pushed them down, determined to figure something out before morning.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Hardy was already on edge when he turned the corner onto Miracle’s street. When his headlights shone on the Jeep parked along the curb, anger and resentment bubbled to the surface. Miracle was standing on the stoop talking to Jonah. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was shaking her head at something he was saying. Hardy slowed and watched the two as he quietly approached. Jonah raised his hands and gestured emphatically. Hardy’s face flushed with heat. Jonah waved his arms wildly. Hardy’s pulse hammered in his chest. But then, when Jonah actually reached forward and grabbed Miracle by her upper arms and shook her, Hardy saw red and fury exploded in his stomach. Slamming on the brakes, Hardy stopped right in the middle of the street, pushed the gearshift into park and leapt out. He practically ran to Miracle’s side. Jonah heard him coming. He turned toward Hardy just as Hardy’s body left the ground and flew through the air like a missile, knocking Jonah against the side of the house. Hardy heard the breath leave Jonah’s lungs in a whoosh before they both fell to the concrete porch. In the back of his mind, Hardy knew Miracle was saying something to him, but he was blinded by his rage, thinking only of tearing Jonah limb from limb for daring to lay a finger on Miracle. Hardy wrestled Jonah onto his back and, before he could

think better of it, his fist connected with Jonah’s jaw. Bone hitting bone split the quiet night like a crack of thunder. Hardy felt very little pain as the bones in his hand gave way. He didn’t realize what had happened until he landed his second punch and felt the splintering in his wrist. He dropped his right hand, having every intention of proceeding with his left, but his opponent was already unconscious beneath him. He wasn’t sure which punch had done it, but Hardy had knocked Jonah out. Like a tide receding from the shore, most of Hardy’s anger drained away and he thought only of Miracle. He turned to locate her. She was standing behind him, near her front door, her eyes wide and her hands clamped tightly over her mouth. Hardy rose to his feet and walked to her. When he raised his hands toward her, she flinched, backing away from him. “Are you okay?” he asked. Miracle looked from him to Jonah and back again. Finally she nodded. Hardy took another step toward her, but she backed further away. “I won’t hurt you, Miracle. I’d never hurt you.” He saw the indecision in her eyes. She was warring with what she knew of him versus what she’d just witnessed. To trust him or not to trust him. He’d given her reason to doubt him and it tore Hardy apart. His heart plummeted when Hardy saw fear and something akin to distrust drop down over Miracle’s face like a curtain. In that moment, Hardy realized the extent of the damage he’d done. And there was nothing he could do to change it.

“Maybe you should go, Hardy,” Miracle suggested when she finally moved her hands. “I’m not leaving you alone with him when he wakes up, Miracle.” “I’m not worried about him,” she said pointedly. “Miracle, please don’t do this. I’m not the bad guy here. I saw him grab you. I was just trying to protect you.” “I didn’t need protecting, Hardy. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He was just upset.” “But it looked like—” “Maybe you shouldn’t have been watching. Or maybe you should’ve made sure of what was going on before you went and attacked him.” Between the disgust in Miracle’s eyes and the growing pain in his hand, Hardy was feeling worse by the second. “Here, I’ll call 911.” Hardy yelped when, out of habit, he reached into his pocket with his right hand to retrieve his phone. That got Miracle’s attention. “Let me see your hand, Hardy.” She stepped closer to him and, even though he really didn’t want her touching it, he bit his lip and let her anyway. It was better than seeing her back away from him as though he might strike her at any moment. After taking his hand gently into her own and closely examining it, Miracle raised troubled eyes to his. “Hardy, what if it’s broken?” At first, Hardy didn’t fully understand what she was getting at. He shrugged. “Then I’ll go to the doctor. It’s no big deal.” “But what about football? You can’t throw a football with

a broken hand.” The reality of the situation slapped him in the face. His head swam dizzily and his hand throbbed. “Uh…um…I didn’t…” Backing up and resting against the side of the house, Hardy bent over and rested his good hand on his knee, taking slow deep breaths. Miracle was quiet for a long time before she put her hand on his shoulder and spoke. “Will he hurt you?” Hardy straightened, meeting her concerned eyes. He was more relieved than he imagined possible to see something other than fear, disgust and mistrust there. “I don’t know and I don’t care. That’s not what I’m worried about.” “Hardy, there will be consequences. You know that, right?” Hardy sighed. “I know, Miracle, but I don’t care about that. I…I…” he stammered, ducking his head in shame. “I’m so sorry. I got into it with my dad after the game and then when I saw Jonah grab you…” Hardy was wearing his heart on his sleeve and his regret on his face. Miracle searched the blue gray of his eyes for…something. He hoped she would find it. With a sigh, Miracle glanced down at the stillunconscious Jonah. “I’ll try to talk him out of pressing charges, but I need to get him to the doctor.” As if on cue, Jonah moaned. “It’s my fault. If you’ll pull my car around, I’ll get him in the backseat and you can drive us to the emergency room. I’ll just have to deal with whatever fallout there is. It’s my own doing.” Miracle nodded, jogging off to Hardy’s car. He hoped he could undo some of the damage by being mature and

responsible about the situation from this point forward. He couldn’t blame her if she never trusted him again, though. It made his heart hurt to think of it, but he couldn’t blame her. With a lot of painful maneuvering, Hardy managed to get a groggy Jonah into the back seat of his car. His nose and mouth were still oozing blood, so Hardy pulled a clean tshirt out of his duffel and gave it to him to use until they reached the hospital. Once inside and registered, Hardy was taken to one room, Jonah to another. Miracle went with Jonah, although it made Hardy feel better when she looked back at him over her shoulder. Maybe he hadn’t completely lost her. It wasn’t long before Wayne Bradford showed up. He schmoozed his way through the various medical personnel like a politician. To Hardy, his worries felt compounded the instant he heard his father’s voice. He was all smiles and pleasantries to everyone he encountered, including Hardy, but Hardy knew his father was boiling just beneath the surface. He saw him flex his fingers several times as though it was all he could do not to punch Hardy where he lay on the hospital stretcher. The one good thing about the length of an emergency room visit, however, was that he would likely have cooled off somewhat by the time Hardy was discharged. It was much less likely he would get violent at that point. After the first hour had passed, Hardy overheard his father asking the doctor if he could talk to the other boy involved. The doctor told him he didn’t think that would be a good idea. He wouldn’t even give him a status update. The doctor did, however, offer to let Wayne speak to the girl who was with the other boy.

Miracle. Hardy held his breath when he saw the doctor return several minutes later with Miracle in tow. He noticed her glancing nervously into his room as the great Wayne Bradford questioned her. Thankfully, needing her help, Hardy’s father was very pleasant to Miracle, but he wasn’t fooling Hardy; he knew how his father really felt. As Miracle stood outside Hardy’s room talking to his father and the doctor, Hardy got yet another unwanted surprised. Cheyenne. Hardy gritted his teeth. There was only one person that would’ve called her, and he turned around and glared at Hardy just as Cheyenne rushed to his side. Wayne dared Hardy to resist when Cheyenne threw her arms around his neck. Hardy looked away from his father, only to see the look of hurt on Miracle’s face. Hardy had never wished more that he’d broken his hand on his father’s jaw instead. Things were getting worse by the minute. Hardy knew there was nothing he could do for the time being, so he closed his eyes against the world and leaned his head back against his pillow. He just wanted the day to be over. Several hours, exams, x-rays and a Colles Fracture splint later, Hardy was released into the care of his father. Wayne informed the hospital that he would send someone after Hardy’s car later, as Hardy couldn’t drive after being given narcotics for pain. Hardy didn’t argue. “Well, you’ve certainly done it now,” Wayne said as soon as they were out of the hospital parking lot. “I’ll have to call the scouts that have already seen you play and see if they’d still consider you. The doctor assured me that we’ll be able

to get an acceptable report from the physical therapist…” Hardy listened to his father drone on and on about the mess Hardy had made and how he was going to have to clean it up. About how irresponsible and selfish Hardy was and how he was lucky his father was influential enough to get Jonah to drop the charges. He reminded Hardy over and over again that he owed his life, his future, pretty much his entire existence to his father. Hardy had no interest in the future that Wayne Bradford had plotted out for him. The only thing he was interested in was Miracle. And he might have lost her. It didn’t take long for apathy to set in. Unable to leave the house all weekend, Hardy tried dozens of times to call Miracle, but she didn’t answer. He texted her, but got no response. The longer she ignored him, the lower he sank into depression. When Monday rolled around, Hardy was once more allowed to drive his car. Wayne Bradford couldn’t be inconvenienced with taking his son to school and far be it for a Bradford to ride the bus, so he gave Hardy his keys back. The first thing Hardy did was drive by Miracle’s house. Her car was gone. He could only assume she’d driven herself to school. He went straight to her locker when he got there, but she was nowhere to be found. Deciding to bide his time until third period, Hardy stopped looking for her. Miracle showed up in Chemistry Lab right as the bell was sounding. She didn’t look in his direction even one time during the entire class. Then, at the end, she was out of her seat and out the door the instant the bell rang. Hardy

watched her go, feeling slow and frustrated. Things only got worse for him when she didn’t show up for lunch. Hardy absently tolerated the teasing of his friends as he watched for her to make her way out into the sun with Lucy. But she didn’t. Hardy didn’t see Miracle or Lucy. At all. By the time sixth period photography rolled around, Hardy was as grouchy as a bear with a thorn in its paw. When Miracle hadn’t appeared by the time the bell rang, Hardy went to talk to Mr. Gault to see if he’d heard from her. “She’s already been in. She asked to work in the conservatory today since she’s already done this part of her assignment,” Mr. Gault said, referring to a short quiz they were supposed to be taking. “Can I be excused?” Mr. Gault eyed Hardy suspiciously. “My hand’s hurting,” Hardy fibbed easily. He didn’t care. He would say whatever he had to in order to get to the conservatory. “All right. Straight to the nurse’s office. No stops along the way.” “Yes, sir,” Hardy said, hating to disappoint his favorite teacher should he find out what Hardy was really up to. Without giving it another thought, Hardy bolted for the conservatory. When he reached it, he wrenched the door open with his good hand and searched the balmy interior for Miracle. Somehow he knew where she would be—with the orchids. When he rounded the corner, Hardy’s heart jumped up into his throat. Miracle was lying on her side beneath the

orchids as if she’d lain down to take a nap with the sleeping night-bloomers. “Miracle?” Hardy said softly, doing his best to hide the panic in his voice. At her name, Miracle’s eyelashes fluttered and she licked her lips. She was pale and sweaty and she looked like she was on death’s doorstep. “Hardy,” she answered flatly, her eyes closing again. Hardy could hear her shallow breathing. He rushed to her, dropping to his knees at her side. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his hands dancing lightly over her body as he searched for an injury of some sort, praying he’d find one. He refused to think that what ailed her was something internal, something he couldn’t see. Something that could take her from him forever. He felt tears sting his eyes when she didn’t answer. “Miracle, can you hear me?” Her nod was barely perceptible, so without wasting one more minute, Hardy dropped his camera bag and scooped her up into his arms. He didn’t even feel the pain radiating up his arm from his wounded hand. Nearly running, Hardy made his way to the nurse’s office, bypassing the attendant and going straight into one of the two bays to lay Miracle on the bed. An indignant nurse followed him, but her angry words died on her lips when she saw Miracle. “Marjorie, call 911,” she called behind her before returning her attention to Miracle. “I found her like this. What’s wrong with her?” The nurse put the back of her hand against Miracle’s brow and frowned. “Well, she’s not running a fever. What’s her name?” “Miracle.”

“Miracle,” the nurse said, gently rubbing Miracle’s cheek. “Miracle, honey, can you hear me?” Miracle mumbled something unintelligible as she struggled to open her eyes, to no avail. “Well?” Hardy prompted. “Is she allergic to anything? Bee stings? Anything like that?” “Not that I know of.” “Hmm. Well, it’s hard to say what it is, honey, but they’ll get her to the hospital and take a look at her there.” “So we’re waiting for the ambulance? I can get her to the hospital faster. Let me take her,” Hardy begged. “No, sir!” the nurse said, shaking her head. “Neither one of you is leaving my sight until the ambulance gets here.” Hardy had a feeling she might say that. He could’ve kicked himself for not taking Miracle straight to the hospital. He knew it was always better to ask forgiveness than permission. Now he was stuck. “Do you know if she has any health problems?” “Yes, she had kidney cancer a while back and had chemo and radiation.” Hardy saw the look that came over the nurse’s face. He felt it like an arrow to his heart. He knew what she was thinking and it was almost more than he could bear. “Please let me take her,” he pleaded. Hardy’s voice trembled, but he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was lying on a bed in front of him, precious seconds of her life ticking by. “Please.” The nurse’s face softened. “Darlin’, whatever is wrong with her isn’t going to be fixed in the next ten minutes. Besides, they’ll take her in faster if she comes in on the

squad.” Hardy rationalized that she was probably right, so he quit asking to take her. Instead, he squatted down and took Miracle’s limp hand in his splinted one. “Miracle? Can you hear me?” Her head rolled from side to side and she mumbled again, but he got no more reaction than that. “Did you carry her all the way here with a broken hand?” Hardy didn’t spare a glance at the nurse. “Yes, ma’am.” He heard her sigh. He felt her pity. But he didn’t want it. He just wanted Miracle to be okay. “She’ll be all right, won’t she?” “I sure hope so, honey.” The nurse left to make sure the secretary notified Miracle’s mother. Six minutes later, the ambulance arrived to carry Miracle away. Without even asking for permission, Hardy went straight to his car and followed them. When he got to the hospital, Kelly St. James was already there. She was visibly shaken, but still holding it together. A nurse appeared just as they were taking Miracle back into the bowels of the emergency room. Could you please

get her registered while we get her into a room? We’ll bring you straight back as soon as you’re finished. Hardy couldn’t imagine how hard that was for Kelly to hear. She nodded stiffly and turned toward the registration area. Hardy paced the floor in the waiting area, knowing he had no choice but to await Miracle’s mother. Some ten minutes later, she emerged. “Mrs. St. James! Kelly!” he called, rushing toward her. Although she didn’t look exactly thrilled to see him, she didn’t look like she had completely written him off either.

He took that as a good sign and hoped she’d have pity on him. “Hardy, I really don’t have time for this right now. I—” “Please,” Hardy interrupted. “I don’t know what Miracle has told you, but please don’t make me leave. I need to know she’s gonna be okay.” “You can call and check on her later. I’m sure—” “I don’t want to call and check on her. I want to see her. I need to be here when she wakes up. There’s something I have to tell her.” “It can wait until she’s—” “No, it can’t. Please. Please, Mrs. St. James.” Hardy could tell that she was about to tell him no again. He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, looking her square in the eye. “Please. I love her.” Hardy knew the instant she changed her mind. Her features relaxed and he saw the worry that she felt shine through. “All right, but if you upset her, you’re leaving. Period.” “Yes, ma’am. I don’t want to upset her.” “Let me go back and check on her. I’ll send someone for you when she’s decent.” Hardy nodded and tightly smiled his gratitude. He was hoping she’d let him go back with her now, and he wanted to argue. But, desperate or not, he was still smart enough to realize when not to push it. He decided that if she didn’t send for him soon, he’d call back and aggravate her until she agreed to let him in. And if she refused, he’d wait for her to go to the bathroom or go get a drink and he’d sneak in to see Miracle. One way or the other, he was getting back there. No one was going to keep him from Miracle.

No one. Hardy took turns pacing the waiting room, asking for updates from the volunteers and staring out the big bay of sliding glass doors. Every minute that passed felt like a year. When it had been just over an hour, Hardy walked to the courtesy phone and dialed the ER’s number. When a woman’s voice answered, he asked to be connected to Miracle’s room. Her mother answered the phone. “How is she? Can I see her?” he asked without even identifying himself. He didn’t need to. Miracle’s mother knew who was calling. “Come on back,” she said and then hung up. Hardy went to the burly security guard that sat behind a sheet of bullet proof glass. For all intents and purposes, he was a gatekeeper, so Hardy took the time to explain that he was being allowed to see Miracle. Eyeing him suspiciously, the gatekeeper picked up his phone and dialed a number, murmuring to someone on the other end. He nodded twice and hung up. Without looking up at Hardy, the security officer leaned forward and pressed a button that allowed Hardy to hear him more clearly. “I’ll buzz you in.” And then he did. Hardy made his way back through the hall of pulled curtains and closed doors to the nurse’s station. He felt like he’d just been there, mainly because he practically had. As if on cue, his hand gave him a deep pang to remind him of its state of injury. Hardy ignored it as he approached the nurses. “Miracle St. James.” One of the younger nurses looked on a coded board

behind her and gave Hardy a room number, pointing him in the right direction. With a heavy heart, he turned and walked that way. Somehow, they had managed to rouse her a little. Her eyes were open and her mother stood at the head of her bed, smoothing her hair in a repetitive motion. Hardy didn’t have to imagine how scared and helpless she felt. He felt the same way. Nervously, he shoved his hands in his pockets, wincing when his hand cried out. That hand wouldn’t fit in his pocket anymore, what with the splint and all, and he’d jammed his fingers trying to make it go. Both Miracle and Kelly looked down at his hand as he tucked it behind his back. He walked around the bed and stopped at Miracle’s feet, uncertain of how receptive she would be to him. “Hey,” he said lamely. Her lips curved the tiniest bit. “Hey.” Hardy moved toward her head a little more, glancing up at her mother to make sure she wasn’t giving him the stink eye. “How are you feeling?” “Like I could run a marathon. How ‘bout you?” He managed a small smile at her joke. He didn’t know how she could tease in her current condition. Just another amazing part of the person she was, Hardy supposed. “Getting ready to go throw some javelin.” Hardy made the motion with his hurt hand. Miracle grinned. “Good idea.” Hardy shrugged. “I thought so.” Miracle’s mother bent and pressed a kiss to the top of Miracle’s head. “Be right back, baby. I’m gonna go find the

bathroom.” Miracle nodded. Kelly St. James looked at Hardy and smiled a little on her way out. He wondered if that was her version of a green light. He hoped it was. If he thought she would believe him, he’d tell her how he wanted to protect Miracle, how he wanted to make her happy forever and make sure nothing happened to her, to make sure she never shed another tear as long as she lived. But now wasn’t the time. And she might not believe him anyway. Hardy figured he’d just have to show her. When Kelly was gone, Hardy moved even closer to the head of the bed. Hesitantly, he reached out and brushed a stray hair off Miracle’s damp cheek. She frowned at his hand. “Did you carry me to the nurse’s office?” Hardy nodded. He was afraid he couldn’t speak past the lump that had formed in his throat. “With a broken hand?” He nodded again. “Why would you do that? You could’ve just gone to get someone.” Hardy shrugged and cleared his throat. “I wasn’t about to leave you.” Miracle’s chin trembled. “Well, thank you for going to all that trouble. And for doing something I’m sure hurt like the devil.” “You’re worth it.” “Hardy,” she said, her voice quivering. “What are you doing here?” “Don’t ask me to leave.” “But you shouldn’t be here. You don’t need this in your

life.” “Don’t you mean you don’t need me in your life?” Miracle paused for what seemed like an eternity before she spoke. “I know that’s not who you are, Hardy. I was just scared.” “And I’m so sorry I scared you. I swear to you, I’m nothing like my father. I just…I saw him and…I thought you…” Miracle wound her fingers around his, her touch as gentle as butterfly wings. “I know.” Her heart was in her eyes. He knew his heart was in his. Hardy couldn’t hold back what he was feeling any longer. He was terrified he wouldn’t get another chance to tell her if he did. Squatting down beside her, Hardy brought Miracle’s fingers to his lips. “Miracle, I’m in love with you. I’d never hurt you. Ever.” When Hardy raised his eyes to hers, they were overflowing with tears. Though she made not a sound, her body shook with her sobs and she squeezed her eyes shut. Hardy dropped his forehead to her hand. “I’m so sorry. If I could take it back, I would. If there was a single day that I could do over, a single hour even, it would be that one.” “It’s not that,” she finally managed, her voice thick. “I just wish I could spare you all this.” Hardy looked up. “All what?” “All this,” she said, indicating her body. “I wouldn’t miss a day with you for anything. A sick day, a healthy day. I don’t care. I mean, of course I wish you weren’t sick, but I want to be with you regardless.” “For a while anyway,” she said sadly.

“No, not for a while. As long as you’ll have me. Didn’t you hear me, Miracle? I’m in love with you!” “But Hardy—” “No, no buts,” he interrupted with a shake of his head. “I’m tired of people telling what I feel and how I should feel. I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I feel. I know this is real.” Miracle watched Hardy in silence. “They think my other kidney is failing.” Hardy felt the bottom drop out of his world. “What does that mean? I mean, what will they do?” “If it’s bad, it means they’ll put me on the transplant list to try and find me a new kidney.” “How long could that take?” “I don’t know. Could be years.” “So what will you do in the meantime?” “Get dialysis three times a week.” Hardy slowly nodded his head, his lips finally curving into a lopsided grin. “Need a ride?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

2 months later “Absolutely not!” Wayne Bradford bellowed. “You have screwed up enough because of that girl. You are not going to play chauffer to her for the rest of…who knows how long.” Hardy expected this reaction from his father. If there had been any other way around it, he wouldn’t have even told him, let alone asked his permission. But there wasn’t. The school required a note from a parent and Hardy knew his mother would never give him one without talking to the dictator, hence his current predicament. “It’s only six days, Dad. I told you that. Three days each week for two weeks. And it’s only sixth period, a class you didn’t want me to take to begin with,” Hardy added hoping to sweeten the pot. It was photography, an interest of Hardy’s that Wayne Bradford had never supported. “My god, she’s sick, Dad. Her mom has taken her all this time, but she had to pick up a second job just so they could afford Miracle’s medical bills from the last two months. It’s just during her training that she can’t take Miracle to dialysis. They need some help. How can you say no to that?” Hardy watched his father’s eyes flash. “Oh, don’t play that card with me. Don’t act like this is just some sort of community service. That would be totally different. But it’s not. You’ve got feelings for this girl and I refuse to let you walk right into her trap.”

“Trap? What trap could she possibly be laying for me?” “That question shows me just how naïve and unprepared you are for the world, Hardy. You don’t have a clue what’s out there, what people are really like.” “Oh, I think I’ve had years of disappointment to prepare me for what’s out there, Dad,” Hardy sneered, spitting his name out like poison. Hardy watched his father’s face turn bright red. “Are you really stupid enough to think you’re helping your case with a tone like that?” Hardy immediately regretted his barb. Wayne was right; he wasn’t helping matters at all. “Dad, please. The football season is over. What’s done is done. Look on the bright side. Maybe this will look good on my college applications. I hadn’t really thought of it, but it is kind of like doing community service.” He knew he’d struck a nerve. Hardy could practically see the wheels turning in his father’s head. Wayne snorted. “If only you’d put this much effort into playing football and keeping your girlfriend, you’d be home free by now.” “Look, I’ve made some mistakes, I’ll admit, but there’s no reason that I can’t try to make the best of things now.” “I still don’t like it. I don’t want this girl getting under your skin any more than she already has.” “What if I promise to call that coach from UT like you’ve been wanting me to? The one the scout told you might be still interested.” Hardy had been putting that off, saying he’d rather hold out for LSU. They all knew his future at LSU looked bleak, but Hardy was willing to hold on to that as a stall tactic, just

to keep his dad off his back. But now, he was more than willing to play that card to get what he wanted. It was a small sacrifice to be able to help Miracle. “I can’t believe such a bright, promising future has come to this. I never thought I could be this disappointed in you, this ashamed of the way you’ve squandered your opportunities.” Inside, Hardy rolled his eyes. He’d heard all about what a terrible person he was, what an awful son he was, what an inconsiderate, irresponsible failure he was. At the moment, though, he was willing to listen to it one more time if it meant his father would give in. When it seemed that his dad was finished, Hardy asked quietly. “I’ll do better, Dad. Just give me this one thing.” “You’ll owe me, Hardy. And that means no excuses, no complaining, and no procrastinating. We’re going to get you into a good college to play football if it kills us both.” The idea of his father dropping dead wasn’t as unappealing to Hardy as it should’ve been. Sadly. “I know, Dad. I know.” Wayne Bradford jerked the paper out of Hardy’s freshlyuncasted hand and laid it on the island in the kitchen. Pulling an expensive pen from his pocket, he scrawled his signature across the bottom. Hardy let out a sigh of relief when his father handed him the note. “Thanks, Dad.” His father said nothing as he stalked off. As soon as he was out of sight, Hardy pulled out his phone and texted Miracle. He knew she’d still be awake; it hadn’t been that long since he’d left her house.

Found you a ride to dialysis tomorrow:-)

Hardy had just stepped into his room and closed the door behind him when he got a response.

Have I ever told you you’re my hero? In the solitude of his bedroom, Hardy smiled. Miracle had no idea how much he wanted to be her hero, to save her from pain and suffering, from sadness and sickness, from anything and everything that threatened her smile.

Think you could knit me a cape for Christmas? Anything for you. Bet you’d look good in tights, too;) Any mention of the holidays always brought Hardy back to the same question.

Have you picked something yet? There was a longer-than-usual pause before she responded.

Yes. Which one? I’ll tell you later. Then quickly. C U tomorrow. I love you. I love you, too. Miracle had made Hardy promise that the only thing he’d get her for Christmas was to help her fulfill an item on her bucket list. Although Hardy despised discussing that list, he knew they were all things important to Miracle, so he smiled and went along with it, even though it often left him feeling melancholy. At least she’d finally chosen one, so now he could get on with planning her Christmas present. The next morning, Hardy drove to Miracle’s house. On the way, images from the days she spent in the hospital flitted through his mind, as they so often did.

From the emergency room, they’d admitted her for surgery where they placed a temporary catheter in her leg so she could start dialysis as soon as possible. They had also put a graft in her right arm as a more permanent solution until she could get a transplant, but it would take a while before they could use it for dialysis, which she needed quickly. Her kidney was in bad shape. Kelly St. James had let Hardy stay until they took Miracle off to surgery and he hadn’t left her side until late that night when the nurses had run him off. He’d been back there bright and early the next morning and stayed all day. She’d been incredible through the whole thing. Most of the time, it was Miracle who was laughing and keeping things light, as though she was providing comfort to him, rather than the other way around. He thought he’d been in awe of her before, but after seeing her cope with the news about her kidney and all the poking and prodding, Hardy was certain he’d never met a stronger, more amazing person in all his life. Hardy pulled up to the curb in front of Miracle’s house, as he had most every morning since she’d started coming back to school. And, just as she always did, Miracle came flying out the door before he could even put the car in park. It was a contest of sorts between them—Miracle tried to get to the car before Hardy could get out and open the door for her. She had yet to best him. Hardy barely beat her this time. But he did. Making a big production of it, he opened the door, sweeping his arm out with a flourish to indicate the waiting passenger seat. “Your chariot, milady.” With a grin, Miracle ignored the open door, choosing

instead to wrap her arms around Hardy’s neck and rub her nose against his. “This wouldn’t by any chance be my chariot for dialysis, too, would it?” Hardy narrowed his eyes and rolled them skyward. “Um, it’s a strong possibility.” Miracle squealed and scattered kisses all over his face. “You are the most wonderful, amazing, kind, considerate, handsome, sexy—” Hardy laughed, interrupting. “You did want to make it to school today, right?” Miracle giggled. “Do we have to?” Hardy knew she was teasing, but his body warmed instantly to what she was suggesting. “Don’t tempt me.” Miracle’s expression sobered. “Maybe I want to tempt you.” Hardy searched her eyes. In them, he saw something… different, something that hadn’t been there even as recently as last night. He was hesitant to acknowledge it, however, in case he was way off base. “All you have to do is show up and I’m tempted,” he said, nipping her bottom lip with his teeth. Miracle pulled away and looked at him for several long seconds before she spoke. “What if I told you that’s what I want for Christmas?” “What is what you want for Christmas?” Miracle paused, color flooding her cheeks. “You.” “You already have me.” “Not all of you.” Hardy felt his breathing grow shallow and his pulse pick up. Could he have been right? “You can have any part of me you want.”

“Promise?” “Of course.” Miracle chewed her lip nervously. “Then maybe it can be an early Christmas present.” Her desire to rush it made Hardy uneasy. “Why? Is there something wrong with Christmas day?” “No, I just want to do everything I can as soon as possible. I mean, no particular reason, but why wait, right?” Before he could dig any further, Miracle pecked him on the lips and stepped away to slide into the car, smiling a little too brightly up at him. “All right, chariot driver, get me to school post haste!” Hardy smiled and went along with her, but he wouldn’t just forget what she’d said. Or the sinking feeling he got thinking that their time might truly be limited. He didn’t put it past Miracle to hide something serious from him in an attempt to “spare him.” They went about their normal routine. Hardy walked Miracle to her locker, waited for her to get her books and then carried her backpack to class for her. She insisted that she was able to do it, and he had no doubts that she was right. What Hardy had found, however, was that he liked taking care of her. He liked being her knight in shining armor. He He liked spending those few extra minutes with her. So he did. After he’d collected his reward for walking her—a quick kiss that never failed to stir his blood—Hardy made his way to his own class. Christmas was two weeks away, but he’d already stopped noticing the decorations. His thoughts and his focus were almost always on Miracle, as they were today.

Whether she’d intended to or not, whether there was reason to worry or not, Miracle had instilled a sense of urgency in Hardy. He flipped through an internal catalog of all the things she’d ever told him were on her bucket list. Maybe she was right. Maybe they shouldn’t wait. In that moment, Hardy started planning. If Miracle wanted him to make love to her for Christmas, he’d give her a night she’d never forget. ******** Hardy lay in the bed beside Miracle and they watched one of her favorite movies on the portable DVD player she’d brought with her. Her head was on his shoulder and he was absently fiddling with the fingers of her left hand, her right arm being otherwise occupied with dialysis. It was the fourth time he’d taken her to her appointment so he’d grown accustomed to the procedure and the limitations during it. He wondered what she was thinking about. The doctor had asked to speak to her in private before they’d hooked her up. When she’d come back, Miracle had said it was just lab results, nothing to be concerned about. Only he was. She was a little bit too casual about it. In his pocket, Hardy’s phone vibrated. He fished it out, glancing at the caller ID. “It’s your mom. She’s late for her check-in.” Kelly called shortly after each appointment began, making sure they’d arrived and there were no problems. The fact that she was late made Hardy think she’d probably talked to the doctor, too, which was why he wanted to talk to her out of Miracle’s hearing. Extricating himself from Miracle’s limbs, Hardy slid off the bed. As he pressed the talk button, he motioned to Miracle

that he was going to get something to drink. She smiled and nodded, settling into the hospital bed. It always made Hardy’s heart hurt to see her lying in one. “Everything okay?” Kelly said before he could even speak. “Yep, we’re here. She’s doing fine.” “All right. I was just checking in…” Hardy cleared his throat. “Um, can I ask you something?” Although it was barely perceptible, Hardy noticed Kelly’s pause. “Sure. What’s up?” “Tell me the truth. Is something wrong?” “I’m sure Miracle has told you everything—” “No, Miracle tells me what she thinks I can handle, what she wants me to know, but I think she’s hiding something important from me.” Kelly sighed. “Well, if she is, that’s her prerogative. You know that.” “I know it’s her decision, but you know how I feel about her. If things are getting worse or if something’s going wrong, I want to know.” Hardy paused, his throat constricting. “I need to know.” Miracle’s mother didn’t say anything for an alarminspiring amount of time. Hardy’s pulse had picked up and he could feel fear clawing at his stomach. “Tell me. Please,” he prompted. “They’ve moved her up on the transplant list. Her labs aren’t looking good,” Kelly said, her voice cracking at the end. “But isn’t that a good thing? I mean, she’ll get a new kidney sooner, right?” “In theory, yes. But Miracle has a rare blood type, which

you knew. On top of that, they’re also having trouble matching her tissue type.” “So what are you saying?” When Kelly burst into tears, Hardy felt like his heart stopped beating. “If they don’t find her a match soon, she won’t be able to last much longer with just the dialysis.” The hallway tilted and Hardy leaned against the wall, sliding down until he was slumped in the floor. Even if he’d known what to say, he didn’t think he could speak right then. “Oh, God, how I wish me or Mila had her blood type!” she cried. “And her- her father?” Hardy managed, knowing Kelly had been trying to reach him. “He still won’t return my calls.” The heartbreak of knowing he might be able to help, but was apparently unwilling, was plain in her voice. Her sobs grew louder. When her weeping had dwindled to sniffles, Kelly spoke again. “Please don’t tell her I told you. I know how much you love her, Hardy, and I know the reason she didn’t want you to know is because she loves you, too. I’ve never seen two people your age feel so deeply about each other. I understand you needing to know, but she would never forgive me if she knew I told you.” “I won’t say anything,” he whispered, the world and everything in it suddenly seeming bleak and hopeless. “I have to get back.” “Okay. Go. Tell her I love her,” she said, starting to cry afresh. “I will.” Hardy sat in the hallway for several long minutes after he’d hung up. He prayed and begged God for His mercy,

all the while searching for some kind of solution, something the doctors had somehow overlooked, even though he knew deep down his search was futile. Then something occurred to him. It was a long shot, but Hardy was willing to grasp at any and every straw that presented itself. Pushing himself to his feet, Hardy went in search of Miracle’s doctor. ******** The next day, Hardy and Miracle rounded the corner onto the hall where her locker was located. When he saw the group of people surrounding Cheyenne, his steps slowed and his stomach filled with dread. Hardy glanced down at Miracle. She looked uneasy, but she turned her face up to his and smiled brightly, tugging him forward. He knew she had likely drawn the same conclusion he had—it had something to do with her—but that didn’t stop her. She walked on toward them, back straight and head held high. Hardy thought again that she was probably the bravest person he knew. As they slowed in front of Miracle’s locker, Cheyenne turned toward them. “Good, you’re both here for the big reveal,” she said, not even trying to hide her anticipation. “What are you revealing?” Hardy asked sharply. “You’ll see,” she answered coyly, her eyes flashing with menace. “Cheyenne, I’m warning you…” Her glossy pink lips curved into a malicious smile. “And I warned you.” Hardy wanted to grab Miracle and run, to save her from what was ahead, whatever it was. As if sensing the direction his thoughts had taken, Miracle squeezed his

fingers reassuringly. Hardy thought it odd that she was the one giving him encouragement. Again. “All right, everybody, gather round,” Cheyenne said, holding her iPhone out so the people at her sides and behind her could see. Hardy and Miracle stood fast. “Tada!” Mouths dropped open and everyone except Cheyenne looked embarrassed and flustered. Like the strike of a snake, Hardy reached out and snatched the phone from Cheyenne’s fingers. When he held up the screen to look at it, he felt his jaw drop open. Her viciousness knew no bounds. Someone had evidently taken a picture on their cell phone of Miracle in a bikini that day at the beach. The humiliation on her face was plain, as was the angry scar that lined her abdomen. Cheyenne had superimposed the photo onto a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition background. Hardy’s blood caught fire and he growled in fury. Drawing back his arm, he threw the black rectangle across the hall as hard as he could. It smashed against the lockers and fell to the ground. Hardy was trembling in anger. If Cheyenne had been a guy, Hardy would’ve throttled her. “You’re gonna buy me a new phone, you ass—” Cheyenne began indignantly before Hardy cut her off. “So help me God,” Hardy hissed between gritted teeth, releasing Miracle’s hand to wrap his fingers tightly around Cheyenne’s upper arms. “If you so much as breathe in her direction ever again, you will regret the day you met me, Cheyenne. And please, please test me. I’m begging you.” Hardy fumed as he stared down into Cheyenne’s face.

When she looked adequately terrified, Hardy unhanded her and turned back to Miracle. Only she was no longer standing behind him. She had walked across the hall to pick up Cheyenne’s phone. “Miracle, don’t!” Hardy managed, but he was too late. Hardy held his breath when she looked at the phone’s screen. He prayed it was blank, that he’d broken it and the picture was gone. But when he saw the color drain from Miracle’s face, he knew it wasn’t. Rage against Cheyenne and agony for Miracle’s pain warred within him. The hall was absolutely silent as everyone awaited Miracle’s reaction. No one said a word, breathed a breath or moved a muscle. Finally, Miracle cleared her throat and walked back to Hardy’s side. Carefully, she handed the phone back to Cheyenne. “You know what. Cheyenne? I have neither the time nor the inclination to hate you. But I do have a favor to ask. The next time you Photoshop pictures of me in a bikini, give me bigger boobs.” There was a short pause before snickering broke out all around them. Miracle turned to Hardy and said, “Come on. I don’t need my books today. I’ll just take good notes.” With that, she took his hand and led him back the way they’d come, head held even higher than when they’d arrived. Hardy was certain he’d never loved her more.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN “Come on. I have a surprise for you,” Hardy said as he sat in his car trying to get Miracle to put on a blindfold. “You’re not going to get us arrested are you? Because I look terrible in orange and I’m allergic to metal bars.” “How do you know you’re allergic to metal bars?” “Women’s intuition,” she answered, her expression all too serious. Hardy grinned. “Just put it on. I promise, you’re gonna like this surprise.” Miracle raised one brow suggestively. “Reeeeally?” Hardy smiled smugly, watching Miracle’s eyes sparkle in anticipation and her smile widen in excitement. “Really really.” They sat staring into each other’s eyes for a moment longer, sexual tension crackling in the air around them, before Miracle reached forward and grabbed Hardy’s wrists, pulling them toward her face. “In that case…” she said, urging him to blindfold her. Hardy tied the thick piece of black material around her head and then started the engine. Less than ten minutes later, he was guiding Miracle across the grass at school. “I hope you’re not leading me to a pagan sacrifice where I’m the…you know, sacrifice,” Miracle teased, reaching up to adjust the blindfold. “No peeking!” Hardy warned, urging her slowly yet steadily forward. “I wasn’t peeking. I was just adjusting.” After several

steps, he heard her sniff. “Something stinks. And I don’t mean that metaphorically. I mean it literally. Did you poot?” Hardy laughed. She smelled the manure from the horticulture building. “No, I didn’t poot.” “Did you shower?” she teased. “Yes, I showered.” “Is it me? Is that the big secret? That I smell like crap and no one has ever bothered to tell me?” Hardy sighed loudly, dramatically. “No, the big secret is that you talk too much. Now you’ve ruined the intervention we’ve been staging. Happy?” “Do I really talk—” “No, Miracle. I was just joking. Now hush. We’re almost there. Be patient.” Hardy brought her to a stop right outside the conservatory door. He pulled it open and the hinges creaked loudly, making Hardy grimace. He saw Miracle’s brow wrinkle and wondered if she knew where they were, if the sound had given it away. Not that it mattered; he’d be taking her blindfold off any minute now anyway. “Mmm, it smells much better in here,” she observed. Hardy smiled. He’d made sure all the candles were lit before going to pick up Miracle. They’d heated the greenhouse and accentuated the aroma of the orchids, filling the entire room with their sweet scent. Hardy led her down the narrow aisle between all the “normal” plants, as she called them, to the bend that would lead them to the orchids. He stopped and turned her around so that she was facing away from them. Taking a deep breath, Hardy began, “I brought you here to celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?” “Your mom agreed to let me tell you.” Hardy paused, knowing it would drive her crazy. He was also smiling so broadly, he knew she would be able to hear it in his voice, so he waited. “What?” He waited still. “What?” And he waited still more. “What? You’re killing me.” “She heard back from the doctor.” “And?” she prompted, practically vibrating with anticipation. “They found a donor match, Miracle.” Hardy hadn’t known what kind of reaction to expect, but he liked the one he got. Miracle squealed and threw herself into his arms. She half laughed and half cried as he swung her around and around. When he set her back on her feet, she squeezed him tightly and then leaned back, still smiling widely. “Can I take this off now?” she asked, raising a hand to the blindfold. “In a second,” Hardy said. “Stick out your hands and cup them for me.” Without question, Miracle stepped back and did as he directed. Hardy bent and grabbed the small pot from a shelf to his left and placed it in Miracle’s hands. Carefully, he removed her blindfold. As he watched her face, he tried to see his gift through her eyes, praying she would like it. The violet and lilac-hued blossom of the orchid hung heavily from its delicate stem. Its oval leaves were tucked back, baring the colorful interior for only a few evening

hours before closing up again to hide their beauty from prying eyes. A heavenly scent drifted from the petals, teasing Hardy’s nose. He knew Miracle loved the flower. Her expression was perfectly discernible, even in the soft candle light. His eyes flickered from Miracle to the orchid and back again. Although the bloom was breathtaking, to Hardy, it paled in comparison to the magnificence of Miracle. “What is it?” she asked, resting the pot in one hand so she could cup the blossom with the other. “It’s an orchid, silly.” Miracle was too amazed to take the bait. “But what kind of orchid?” Hardy was hoping she’d ask that very question, because the answer was the best part. “It’s called a ‘Miracle Orchid’.” “A ‘Miracle Orchid’?” she asked. “Are you serious?” “Yes.” “You’re not teasing?” “No.” “Where did you find it?” “I didn’t.” “What do you mean?” Hardy paused for effect. “I had someone make it.” When Miracle looked up at him, confused, he continued. “I talked to Mr. Billson, the horticulture teacher, and he agreed to try and splice two of your favorite orchids into a hybrid. If it grew, he promised to let me name it.” Hardy could tell Miracle was speechless. She bowed her head and stuck her nose into the center of the blossom, inhaling deeply. Although she closed her eyes,

appreciation and true awe were written all over her face. Hardy had never met someone so pleased, so enthralled by the little things. It was one of the many reasons she was so special to him. When she opened her eyes and raised them to his, they shone with unshed tears. Hardy was humbled. “Tonight, you got your miracle. The day I saw you, sitting with Mila in the park, I got mine.” She sucked in her breath, myriad emotions flitting across her face. But one was predominant. Love. Hardy could feel it radiating from her like heat from the sun. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to…I’ve never…I mean, I…” Hardy reached up and brushed the tip of one finger down her satiny cheek. “Anything for you.” He bent his head and brushed his mouth over hers. Her lips felt like velvet and even that small contact threatened the tight rein he had on his control. Lifting his head a bit, he pressed a kiss to her cheekbone and whispered in her ear. “I’m not done.” Taking her by the shoulders, Hardy slowly turned Miracle around. When he heard her gasp, he bent his head and kissed the crook of her neck. That was just the reaction he was going for. Miracle’s mouth had dropped open into a silent O and her eyes were rounded as she took in row upon row of night blooming orchids, all proudly displaying their colorful petals. They were illuminated by the dozens of candles Hardy had set on every available surface. He saw her gaze drop. There, at her feet, in the center of the floor, was a thick stack of blankets strewn with blood red rose petals.

When she turned to him this time, her face told him that the moment was every bit as special as he’d hoped it would be. He didn’t want her to simply see the night as an item to cross off her bucket list. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, how much she meant to him, how much he wanted to please her. “You really are the stuff dreams are made of, Hardy Bradford,” she said, reminding him of the time she’d said it once before. They’d come so far since then. “And I’m so glad you’re mine,” she murmured, her voice wobbling with emotion. “You are my dream, Miracle, and I love you more than anyone I’ve ever known. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you. Forever. But, right now, let’s start with tonight. Let me love you tonight.” With that, Hardy bent his head again and pressed his lips to hers. They parted immediately and he slowly slipped his tongue inside the warm cavern of her mouth, exploring every sweet corner until he felt her fingers work their way into his hair. Reaching down, Hardy swept Miracle up into his arms, her slight weight like fluff in his arms, and carried her to the thick bed of blankets. Gently, without breaking their kiss, he knelt and lowered her onto her back. When they were both breathless from passion, Hardy dragged his mouth away and leaned back to look at her. Miracle’s eyes were a dark green in the low light and they glowed with the love and desire she felt for him. It blossomed in his chest like the orchids all around them. He held it tight, letting the sensation etch itself onto the very walls of his heart so that he’d never forget it.

Coming up onto his knees, Hardy reached for first one foot and then the other, removing Miracle’s shoes and setting them aside. When his eyes met hers again, he could see the fire burning there and his body hardened in response. He groaned and Miracle bit her lip, the sexy gesture only adding to Hardy’s discomfort. Closing his eyes against the tempting picture she presented, Hardy collected himself before returning his attention to undressing her. His gaze never leaving hers, Hardy brought his hand to her stomach and reached for the hem of her shirt. He saw a flash of uncertainty flicker in her eyes. Always sensitive to her, he moved his fingers down toward the waistband of her jeans, slipping them just inside. He felt her stomach contract beneath his hand and, with one quick flick of his fingers, he freed the button closure. Their eyes remained locked as Hardy slid her zipper down. He was so in tune with her, Hardy thought he could almost hear the blood pumping through her veins. Hardy tugged on Miracle’s jeans. Obligingly, she raised her hips and let him slide the material down her long legs and pull it from her feet. It wasn’t lost on Hardy when Miracle laid her hands over her stomach, subconsciously preventing him from lifting her shirt. Hardy paused after setting her jeans aside, tilting his head and looking deep into Miracle’s glistening eyes. Reaching forward, he laid his fingers atop her. “Please.” He saw her hesitate, could practically see the indecision and insecurity as she debated. But then, purposefully, she moved her hands and laid them on the blankets at her sides.

Hardy said nothing, only reached for the hem of her shirt and slowly peeled it up her stomach. When he could go no further, he took her hand and helped her to sit up while he pulled the material over her head. When she lay back down, Hardy made a point of keeping his eyes trained on hers. He wanted her to see his reaction to the thing she dreaded most. Slowly, Hardy let his eyes travel Miracle’s beautiful face and graceful neck, making their way down the ample swell of her breasts to her stomach, to the scar that she protected from all eyes, including his. He saw her muscles clench and heard her inhale and hold her breath, as if waiting for him to turn away or to be repulsed by the purplish red line just beneath her ribs. He raised his eyes to hers, saw the fear there, and he smiled before dipping his head to press his lips to the scar. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he scattered kisses along the incision line and over to her bellybutton. When he heard her release the breath she’d been holding, he slipped his tongue inside the well of her navel. He heard her gasp again, but this time in a different way, an excited way. Stretching out beside her, Hardy rested his weight on one arm as he hovered above Miracle. He raised his hand and rubbed the backs of his fingers over her jawline. “I want tonight to be perfect for you. Just know that it’s already been perfect for me.” He saw her eyes fill with tears just before he lowered his mouth to hers and began the dance that would awaken her body to the fire, to the passion that they felt for one another. The kiss that began as sweet quickly turned to

breathtaking, as it so often did between them. Her hands were in his hair and clutching at his shoulders as his fingers explored her smooth skin. Tearing his mouth away from hers, Hardy kissed a trail down her neck and chest to the valley between her breasts. Slipping his fingers inside the band of the silky material, he released the front closure and leaned back to take in the treasure he’d just revealed. She was perfect. More perfect than he’d imagined. Reverentially, Hardy brought his hand up to touch her. He thrilled at the chills that spread across her chest and tightened her nipples. Lowering his head, he had to taste them. After worshipping her with his lips and tongue, Hardy left Miracle’s breasts to continue his exploration of her body. He nibbled his way across her ticklish ribs and the curve of her hip to the edge of her lacy panties. He slowly slid them down, kissing along behind them until he’d been to her ankles and back again. When he brought his lips to hers once more, Miracle was moaning and writhing beneath him, softly begging him to touch her, to make love to her. Hardy felt her arousal. He gritted his teeth against an ache, a physical need greater than any he’d ever known. Rolling smoothly to his feet, Hardy quickly dispatched his own clothing, hating to have robbed Miracle of the chance to undress him, but too far gone to take the time. Next time, he reminded himself, opening a tiny square package as he moved to kneel between her feet. Obligingly, Miracle parted her legs to accommodate Hardy as he stretched out on top of her. He could feel the

heat and moisture of her touching him, teasing him at his most sensitive point. Supporting his weight on his forearms, Hardy cupped Miracle’s face. He kissed her long and slow and deep as he moved his body against hers. When he leaned back to look into her face, he gave her one last chance to change her mind. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He thought he might die if she said no, but he loved her enough to honor her decision, whatever it was. It would just mean a few more cold showers in his future. Miracle raised her fingers to Hardy’s mouth, trailing the tips across his lips. Her eyes were shimmering pools of emerald he thought he could drown in and die the happiest man alive. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” she said softly. “If I died tomorrow, being with you, like this tonight, will have been the best night of my entire existence. And it’s not because of a stupid bucket list; it’s because I love you.” Situating his body at her entrance, Hardy eased a fraction of his length into Miracle. “I love you, Miracle,” he whispered. “You’re mine,” he said, inching his way forward a bit more, “and I’m yours,” he added, moving further in. “Forever.” And with that, he pushed his way quickly past the obstruction, making Miracle a woman. His woman. He heard the breath hiss through her teeth and saw her squeeze her eyes shut. He paused to give her time to accommodate his size, scattering tender kisses across her face until he saw her relax. When she began to move beneath him, he flexed his hips a tiny bit as his lips found hers. Within seconds, their passion returned and rose to

fever pitch, as it always did. Hardy held onto his control with gargantuan effort as he moved slowly inside Miracle. He felt her short fingernails digging into the skin of his back, which only served to further inflame him. He groaned when she sank her teeth into his bottom lip and lifted her hips to meet his thrust. He increased his tempo, driving his body more and more deeply into hers. He heard the soft purring in the back of her throat and felt his control slipping. When Miracle nipped at his earlobe and whispered to him, “Now,” it was Hardy’s undoing. Ravaging her mouth with his, Hardy took them both to the edge of oblivion. He felt Miracle’s muscles clench as she tipped over it. It was more than he could bear. Abandoning himself to the most intense pleasure he’d ever experienced, Hardy followed her over the cliff and melted into the sweet waves of their joint climax. ******** A loud banging woke Hardy the next morning. Someone was knocking on his door—hard—but despite the rude awakening, he felt himself smile. He was still on cloud nine. Crawling out of bed, he went to answer the door. Wayne Bradford stood on the other side, seething. Hardy could read rage in every tense line of his face and body. “What did I do now?” Hardy asked, rubbing a hand across his face and turning to sit on the edge of his bed until he was fully awake. “I got a call from Dean Wittison yesterday evening. Imagine my surprise when I learned that you’d withdrawn from their football program.” Hardy could’ve screamed. “He wasn’t supposed to say

anything.” “Oh, so you were just going to hide it from me? For how long, Hardy? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Hardy stood. “I knew you’d find out eventually. I’m not stupid and neither are you. I was going to tell you. I was just waiting for the right time.” “And when was that?” “When I’d gotten a job and enrolled in community college.” “Community college?” “Yes, Dad. Community college. What’s wrong with that?” “What serious football player has ever come from a community college?” “Cam N—” “That was a rhetorical question,” he snapped, interrupting Hardy. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. We had it all planned out, Hardy. Even after you nearly ruined it, I managed to get some good schools interested in you. How could you do this?” “You take this so personally, Dad, like I’m doing it to you. Well, it’s not your life. It’s mine. And this is just something I’ve decided I want to do.” Wayne Bradford fumed, his lips thinning into a slit. “This is about her, isn’t it?” “Don’t bring Miracle into this Dad.” “I didn’t. You did. Months ago when you threw away your future for a piece of a—” Hardy was in his father’s face, cutting him off before he could finish such an insulting sentence. “Stop right there,” he warned quietly. “It’s not like that. If all I wanted was a

whore, I could’ve taken my pick from the bimbos at school. Whether you like it or not, Dad, I’m in love with Miracle and I have every intention of marrying her if she’ll have me.” “Well, of course she’ll have you. Why wouldn’t she? She’s struck gold.” “That’s exactly why I’m getting a job. I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you. Just leave me alone. In a few more months I’ll be out of your hair and you won’t ever have to see me again.” “Are you sure you want to leave this house that way, Hardy? Because you’ll never be welcome back. Are you sure you never want to see your brother again?” Hardy’s father’s eyes sparkled with an evil insinuation Hardy had never seen before. Wayne Bradford knew which buttons to push. He’d been playing Hardy all along. “You knew.” “Knew what?” Wayne asked snidely. “You knew the only reason I went along with all your plans, put up with all your bullshit was to protect Clay. And you let me. You used that to control me.” “I’ve never laid a hand on your brother and you know it. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hardy raised his hand and pressed his finger into the center of his father’s chest. “Let me tell you, if you ever lay a hand on either of them, a finger on either of them, I’ll ruin you. You mark my words.” All the fear Hardy had lived under for most of his life suddenly didn’t seem so insurmountable. If Miracle could be brave enough to face death, Hardy could be brave enough to face his father. “And just what do you think you’re going to do about it?

Especially when you’re not living here.” Hardy smiled in satisfaction, having dreamed of this moment since he was a little boy—the moment he could call his father’s bluff. “Do you remember the year you got me that camera for Christmas? The digital one?” Wayne’s brow wrinkled, but unease was written all over his face. He nodded. “That was a big mistake,” Hardy declared smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. He smelled victory in the air. “Just what are you saying?” “I took pictures—lots of pictures—of the worst of the damage. I saved them to a CD and hid them. I was always too afraid to use them, afraid for Mom and Clay.” “You’ve played football since you were six years old. Kids get bruised,” Wayne stated, shrugging as if unconcerned, but he wasn’t fooling Hardy. Hardy hadn’t realized the depth of his father’s sickness until that very moment. He’d always thought his father was grooming him to be a pro football player from an early age. And, to some degree, Hardy was sure he was. But he’d also done it to cover his tracks, to give doubt to any claims or suspicions Hardy might make. “Did you know the camera had a date stamp? And that there are quite a few pictures from the spring and summer?” He didn’t need to add nowhere near football season; it was strongly implied. And Wayne understood that. He paled beneath his perfect tan. “No one would—”

Hardy interrupted, feeling empowered. “It doesn’t matter, Dad. You know as well as I do that the suspicion alone would ruin you. An upstanding member of the community being accused of child abuse. A long, drawn out, very public court battle. And if another family member showed up with bruises…or accusations…” “You wouldn’t do that.” But he wasn’t convinced. Not really. “Wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t I, Dad? Try me. Lay a finger on Mom or Clay and try me.” After a long pause, during which Wayne Bradford came to the realization that his son was no longer playing by his rules, Hardy’s father spoke again. “So what is it that you want? For me to support you and your sickly girlfriend?” Hardy snorted. His father really was a bastard. “No. I just want you to stay out of my life. And to keep your hands off Mom and Clay. That’s all I want from you. Beyond that, I don’t care if you drop dead in the shower tomorrow. You’ve hurt me enough to last a lifetime. I’m done with you.” Hardy spat. “I’m done with you.” Pushing past his dumbstruck father, Hardy made his way to the bathroom. His heart was beating like a jackhammer against his ribs and he was a little shaky, but he was no worse for the wear. He stood in front of the mirror studying his reflection for a long time before he smiled. He was finally free. They all were.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Miracle had already changed into her hospital gown. Kelly St. James was folding her clothes and putting them into the suitcase that rested on the vinyl reclining chair in the corner. Hardy was holding Miracle’s hand. Absently, he ran the fingers of his other hand alongside the graft she would no longer need after today. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, even though she hadn’t mentioned fear. He could read it all over her face, in her too-bright smile. He knew her too well. “You’re gonna be fine. Better than fine.” Miracle smiled. “I’ll be peeing like a champion in no time.” Hardy chuckled. “Everyone’s dream…” He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly seven a.m. Time for him to go. He cleared his throat. “Well, they’ll be coming for you in a while. I’ll let you rest, okay?” Miracle’s brows drew together. “You’re leaving?” “Well, I, um, I don’t want to tire you out before, uh, you know. You need to be rested going into this thing, right?” Hardy stammered. Miracle tried to smile, but Hardy could see that she’d gotten the wrong impression. “Sure. I mean, I’m sure you’re right.” She looked away from him, blinking quickly several times before asking her mother for her purse. Kelly eyed Hardy as she carried Miracle’s purse to the bed. Unzipping it, Miracle withdrew an envelope and handed it to Hardy. “I

wanted you to see this before I went in to surgery. You know, just in case…” “Just in case nothing! Give it to me after.” “No, Hardy. We have to be realistic. There’s always a chance things might not go as planned.” “Don’t say things like that,” Hardy reiterated in exasperation. “I told you—” “I know, I know. Please. Just open it.” The envelope was already open. It had his name on it, but Miracle’s street address. It said University of North Florida in the upper left corner. Hardy reached inside and removed the single piece of paper. Unfolding it, he read and then re-read the words. “Wha-what is this?” He was thoroughly confused. “Please don’t get mad. I only did it because I love you,” Miracle said, her chin quivering. “But what did you do? I don’t understand.” Miracle played nervously with her IV tubing, refusing to meet his eyes. “When you broke your hand and took all those amazing pictures of the football games you missed, you left some we’d just developed at the house one night. When it looked like you might not be able to get a full ride to LSU on a football scholarship, I printed a copy of your essay from my laptop and submitted it with those photos to a couple colleges with really good art programs. I just wanted to see. I mean, I knew you were good enough, but I knew you wouldn’t do anything about it because of your dad.” Miracle paused, looking up at him from under her lashes. “So I did.” Hardy just stared at Miracle for at least two minutes, digesting what she’d said, what she’d done. When still he

couldn’t find the words to thank her, to tell her how much he loved her, how much her belief in him affected him, he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his. Staring deeply into her eyes, Hardy prayed that all he felt for her would show, that she could see what he couldn’t find the words to say. When her lips curved into a tremulous smile, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. Hardy whispered, just loud enough for Miracle to hear, “Someday I’ll marry you, Miracle. And maybe someday after that, I’ll deserve you.” Hardy heard a faint sob and, without opening his eyes, he pressed his lips to hers. He felt her shaking against him, knew what she was feeling. Opening his eyes and leaning back a couple of inches, Hardy wiped the tears streaming from her eyes with his thumbs. “I was dead inside until you came along. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. Not for a single day. I’d miss you too much.” “You wouldn’t miss me,” she sniffled. “Nah, you’re probably right. I only miss you a little now. When I’m awake. When I’m asleep. When I’m breathing.” When Miracle finally met his gaze, Hardy let his heart pour into his eyes. “My life is nothing without you, Miracle. Nothing. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you!” “I love you, too,” she whispered. Just then, a nurse cleared her throat from the doorway. Hardy turned to look at her. He knew why she was there; he was late.

“I have to let you go. I love you. I’ll see you on the other side.” Giving Miracle a quick kiss, Hardy hurried out the door. ******** Miracle didn’t know what to think. She’d thought at first that Hardy had realized the transplant was just too much, that having a girlfriend on a pharmacy of medications for the rest of her life was not what he signed up for. But then…the things he’d said. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, warm tears still leaking out from beneath her lowered lashes. As long as she lived, she’d remember his words verbatim. She would recall his touch, his kiss, the sincerity flowing from his eyes, from his heart. She’d never forget the moment they’d just shared. Miracle wanted to believe him—desperately—but only time would tell. Maybe he would be there when she woke up. Maybe he wouldn’t. At least she’d gotten to give him the letter. She’d wanted to do that before going under the knife. Although the doctors were very optimistic about the surgery, there were still risks. Big risks. But she was ready to go. She believed in God, believed in Jesus. And she’d had some wonderful years with her mother and sister. And Hardy. She’d known a love few people ever got to know. And she could die happy because of him, because of what he’d given her. It was enough. More than enough. She must’ve dozed off from the sedative they’d squirted into her IV, because those were the last thoughts Miracle had until they came to wheel her away.

******** The nurse rolled Miracle into the Holding Room, into one of six curtained bays. Only one other curtain was drawn. Miracle wondered if behind it lay the person donating a kidney to her. She would never know. The person had asked to remain anonymous, for legal purposes. Miracle wasn’t about to argue with someone who was basically saving her life. Another nurse came from behind the curtain and rushed to collaborate with the nurse who’d brought Miracle. Then, syringes and tubes trailing from their hands, they descended upon her. They put oxygen on her and had her open her mouth as wide as she could. They confirmed her name and her allergies and what procedure she was having. They hooked up more tubing and squirted more medications. They inspected her belly and made notes in her chart. When they were finished, they left, the second nurse telling her it wouldn’t be long. Then she pulled the curtain and left her alone. Miracle didn’t know how much time had elapsed when she heard his voice, but whoever he was, his words started a flurry of activity. Then someone drew back her curtain and unlocked her bed. “It’s almost time, but I’m going to wheel you down here for a few minutes before we take you into the surgical suite, okay sweetie?” Miracle just nodded. She had no idea what normal protocol was. If they’d left her sitting in the hall for two hours, she probably wouldn’t have questioned them. She just wished they’d let Hardy stay longer. The nurse pushed Miracle’s stretcher down to the end of

the room and pulled her alongside the very last stall, the only other one with a closed curtain. Miracle was a little uncomfortable, not wanting to go against the wishes of her donor. “Um, excuse me, but I don’t think I’m supposed to see the person in there,” Miracle whispered to the nurse as she pointed to the next stall. The nurse simply smiled and stepped on the lock at the foot of Miracle’s bed. When she walked off, never addressing Miracle’s concern, Miracle looked hesitantly at the concealed bay beside her. She was debating what to do about it when she heard the hooks slide along their track. The curtain was opening. Miracle watched, wide-eyed and terrified, as her donor was revealed to her. And then she became confused. Hardy lay in the bed across from her, smiling devilishly, his brown hair covered with a blue surgical hat and his slate blue eyes twinkling in delight. “What are you doing in here?” Miracle thought it was a joke at first. “I’m going with you,” he declared. “Well, sorta.” “What do you mean? I don’t understand.” “I’m gonna be a part of you whether you like it or not.” Miracle’s fuzzy brain struggled to comprehend what he was getting at. “Where is the person who is donating the kidney? I don’t understand.” “Miracle,” Hardy began tolerantly. “You’re going to be getting my kidney. I’m the donor.” “But…how?” “I’m a perfect match. How cool is that?” When Miracle

continued to stare blankly at him, Hardy continued. “I bet you didn’t think I was literally perfect for you, did you?” “Do you mean you’re actually a match for my kidney? Seriously?” “Yep, that’s what I mean. We’re destined to be together. There’s just no denying it.” Hardy knew the instant Miracle truly understood what was going on. She began to cry. “No, Hardy,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. “No, no, no, no.” Hardy reached out and grabbed Miracle’s hand. “Miracle stop! I want to do it. I told you I would do anything for you. And I meant it.” “No! No, no, no! Hardy, I can’t let you do this for me. You’re ruining your life, your future. You’ll never be able to play football again, not even if you get into college. Never, Hardy. Did you know that?” Hardy nodded. “I don’t care.” Miracle tried a different tack. “What if something happens to your one remaining kidney? What if…what if…” Her mind spun to try and find something to make him change his mind. “You can’t take that risk. You can’t live like that. I won’t let you.” Miracle felt panic rise in her throat, making breathing difficult. She gasped for air. Hardy sat up in his bed, threw his feet over the side, and stood, dragging tubes and all with him until he could reach Miracle. “Miracle,” he said sharply, shaking her lightly. He said her name twice more before she calmed enough to listen to him. When she did, he bent and looked her dead in the eye. “Listen to me. I can live without a kidney. I can live

without football. I can live without a lot of things. There is only one thing in this world I can’t live without. And I’m giving her my kidney so she can live, so we can be together.” Miracle searched Hardy’s eyes. And she knew. It hit her like a ton of bricks. Hardy would never leave her. No. Never. He would never decide one day that he’d had enough. He would never see her as a burden, as a sick girlfriend. No, he would only see her as Miracle, the girl he was in love with— deeply, truly in love with. He loved her perfectly, just as she loved him. Sitting up, Miracle wound her arms around Hardy’s neck and burst into tears again. He held her, stroking her back until she quieted. When Miracle opened her eyes, the two nurses were watching them from the nurse’s station, both of them wiping their eyes.

EPILOGUE A soft clicking sound woke Miracle. She was lying on her stomach with one leg bent, the sun streaming through the window to warm her. She blinked several times to wake her sleepy eyes. The clicking continued until she raised her head. It startled her when she felt a hand at the bend of her knee. But only for a second. Almost instantly, she recognized the touch. Smiling, she stretched like a cat and rolled onto her back. “Good morning,” Hardy mumbled, pressing his lips to her neck. “Good morning,” Miracle said, turning her head so he could have better access. When she trailed her fingers along his bare back and further down, she realized he wasn’t just shirtless, he was pants-less as well. Her body came instantly to life. “Mmm,” he mumbled. “Keep going.” Raising her leg, Miracle wound it around his hip, opening herself up to him. He took full advantage, slipping smoothly into her. She gasped, never tiring of the feel of the man she loved buried deep inside her. “I thought you had class this morning,” she said breathlessly, struggling to hang on to her train of thought as Hardy nibbled the lobe of her ear and moved slowly within her. “I skipped it. I’m ready for finals,” he said, cupping the back of her knee and hiking her leg up higher. An intense

surge of pleasure rolled through both of them. “Graduation is just around the corner. Is that a good idea?” she asked, barely able to speak. “Shut up and kiss me.” He didn’t have to ask twice. Miracle threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his lips down to hers. She plundered his mouth with her tongue as he plundered her body with his own. They both lost track of thought and time until Miracle cried out in release and Hardy collapsed on top of her. Afterward, he lay atop her, lazily trailing his fingers up and down her sides. When their breathing calmed, he rolled off Miracle and pulled her over onto his chest. It was her favorite place to sprawl. Absently, she traced the scar on his abdomen with her finger, never able to forget the sacrifice he made for her, no matter how many years ago it had been. It was a constant reminder of his love for her, of how he was a part of her life, part of her body. Literally. Hardy picked up her hand and kissed each finger individually, paying particular attention to the diamond on her ring finger. “What can I help you do today?” Miracle smiled into his chest. As if he hadn’t already done enough. He’d saved her life. What more could she ever need? “Nothing.” “That’s not true. Tell me what you need.” Hardy knew she’d been crazy, what with college graduation and their wedding looming on the horizon. He also knew that sometimes it was something little like doing the laundry or feeding the dog that helped her keep her sanity. So he did

whatever he could. “Give me your kidney,” Miracle said in her best bankrobber voice, poking her finger into his side like a gun. “Oh, wait…” She smiled up at Hardy. He smiled back. “I’d do it again, ya know.” She pressed her lips to the tiny dip in his chin. “Yeah, I know.”

THE END

READ ON For the first chapter of Madly

A FINAL WORD

A few times in life, I’ve found myself in a position of such love and gratitude that saying THANK YOU seems trite, like it’s just not enough. That is the position that I find myself in now when it comes to you, my readers. You are the sole reason that my dream of being a writer has come true. I knew that it would be gratifying and wonderful to finally have a job that I loved so much, but I had no idea that it would be outweighed and outshined by the unimaginable pleasure that I get from hearing that you love my work, that it’s touched you in some way or that your life seems a little bit better for having read it. So it is from the depths of my soul, from the very bottom of my heart that I say I simply cannot THANK YOU enough. I’ve added this note to all my stories with the link to a blog post that I really hope you’ll take a minute to read. It is a true and sincere expression of my humble appreciation. I love each and every one of you and you’ll never know what your many encouraging posts, comments and e-mails have meant to me. http://mleightonbooks.blogspot.com/2011/06/whenthanks-is-not-enough.html

Other books by M. Leighton Beginnings: An M. Leighton Anthology Blood Like Poison: For the Love of a Vampire Blood Like Poison: Destined for a Vampire Blood Like Poison: To Kill an Angel Caterpillar Gravity Madly Madly & Wolfhardt The Reaping The Reckoning Wiccan Follow me Blog: http://mleightonbooks.blogspot.com Facebook: M. Leighton Author Page Twitter: mleightonbooks Goodreads: M. Leighton, Author Contact me [email protected]

I’m also a proud member of the

Paranormal Plumes Society, a group of Independent Young Adult authors which includes Abbi Glines, Addison Moore, Amy Jones, CA Kunz, Courtney Cole, Fisher Amelie, Laura Elliott, Michelle Muto, Nichole Chase, Shelly Crane and Tiffany King. Please keep an eye on my blog for the link to our official website and schedule of events.

MADLY CHAPTER ONE I looked out the classroom window, wishing I was outdoors enjoying the ambient conditions of Slumber, conditions that I’d come to love in a relatively short amount of time. If I closed my eyes, I could almost feel the humid sea breeze ruffling my hair, the hot sun shining down on my face. I could almost smell the sweet hint of jasmine in the air, too. Sighing, I turned my attention to the back of Aidan’s sandy head. My lazy musings coupled with the soft drone of Mr. Laraby’s voice provided the perfect background noise to lull me into a semi-comatose state. Aidan turned around and winked at me. Whether he’d known I was watching him or he was just being his fun-loving self, I didn’t know. With Aidan, you could never tell what went on behind his warm hazel eyes, but either way he made me smile. He was constantly teasing me or doing something funny to make me laugh. When he turned back toward the front of the class, I sighed. I couldn’t wait for our mating tie to materialize, for the time when the mere sight of

him would make me swoon. That’s what happened between all fated mates and, since I was to be betrothed to Aidan in nine more months, I fully expected it would happen with us. But right now, he just felt like my big brother. Tingling fingers of unease lifted the roots of my waist length blonde hair away from my scalp, startling me from my stupor. I sat up in my seat and looked around. Just as I was about to reassure myself that it had only been my imagination, the shiny, gilded cuff around my wrist began to heat against my skin. I looked down at my bracelet, the wide gold band that had adorned my arm practically since birth. It held a charm tight against the skin on the inside of my wrist, where it continually leached power straight into my bloodstream. The charm itself was a blue-green hoop that looked like a delicate, water-filled doughnut. All of us had a similar charm that we wore somewhere against our skin. It was the source of our magic on dry land. But at the empty center of mine was a single silvery pearl. Upon casual inspection, it seemed to be part of the circle, but it was not. It wasn’t attached to anything, held in place by nothing more than the potent enchantment that marked my family, my entire race. Like a bolt of lightning, pain suddenly shot from my wrist straight up my arm and into my head. My sharp inhalation alerted Aidan and Jersey, my two best friends, both of whom sat in front of me. I

saw them turn toward me right before my vision blurred with tears. Squeezing my eyes shut, I bit my lip to keep the scream on my tongue from finding its way out. Electricity held my arm stiff as the current began to flow through the rest of my body. My hair felt like it was on fire and my toes twitched inside my loafers. Lips that felt like they were melting off my face could no longer hold the cry inside, but when it escaped, it didn’t sound like my voice. It sounded like the high-pitched call of a siren. Then, as quickly as it had come upon me, it was over. I felt my body go limp in my seat and I slumped forward over my desk. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know that every face in class was turned curiously in my direction. Despite the shock of what had just happened, I felt the burn of embarrassment sting my cheeks. “Madly, what is it?” Jersey’s concerned voice was near my right ear, concern I knew would be mirrored in her sea foam eyes. “Hey, James, quit trying to scare us,” Aidan whispered into the other ear. Though his comment was meant to sound casual, I could hear the genuine fear in his voice. I lifted my head and opened my eyes to Aidan’s. I knew by the frown that appeared on his smooth brow that he knew something was seriously wrong. “Mr. Laraby, Madly’s not feeling well, can we

take her down the hall to the bathroom?” “She doesn’t look very good, does she?” Mr. Laraby asked, eyeing me suspiciously. “No, why don’t you take her to the nurse’s office?” “Yes, sir,” Aidan replied, coming around to throw my arm around his shoulder and slip his hand around my waist. With virtually no effort, he hauled me to my feet. “Jersey, grab her bag.” I heard the rustling of Jersey jumping to obey Aidan and then the patter of her feet as she followed behind us. As soon as we were clear of Mr. Laraby’s room, Aidan steered me to the long line of army green lockers on one side of the hall and propped me up against the cool metal. “What was that all about? What is it?” At first when he asked, I wasn’t sure how to answer, wasn’t really sure what had happened. But then, as the fog cleared from my mind, an image was left in its wake. It was the mental picture of someone I recognized. “It’s Lady Sheelah.” As my vision came back into ultra-clear focus, I saw Aidan’s pupils dilate and, for the first time since I’d known him, the jokester disappeared into the royalty that he was born to be. “Then we need to get to her.” With that, he took my hand, pulled me away from the lockers and practically dragged me down the hall. I’d forgotten all about Jersey until I heard

her speak up from somewhere behind us. “Um, hello? Is somebody gonna tell me what the devil is going on?” “Come on, Jersey,” Aidan called over his shoulder. “Keep up.” “I’m trying, but not all of us are giants,” she snipped. When I turned to look back at her, I couldn’t help but smile when I saw her short legs flying in her efforts to reach us. “Just like not all of us are shrimps,” I teased. “A shellfish joke? Seriously? Are you actually gonna go there?” Jersey’s expression said she was skeptical. I smiled again. It helped to have her around to lighten the mood. It gave me a reason not to focus on the sinking feeling that was pulling at my heart, a feeling that assured me that what had happened in Mr. Laraby’s classroom did not bode well. The three of us made our way quickly from Building C to the dorms that crouched in a tight circle in the center of campus. Veritas Academy was a private school, so our handler, Lady Sheelah, stayed in our dorm acting as our Resident Advisor, a very human-looking position. As we arrived at her room, Aidan took the lead and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so he knocked a second time. When still there was no sign of Lady Sheelah, he reached for the knob. It was unlocked, turning easily.

Pushing the door open a bit, Aidan poked his head into the room and said, “Hello? Sheelah?” When there was no response, my breath began to come faster. Something was desperately wrong; I could feel it. “Stay here,” Aidan ordered as he swung the door wide and stepped inside. He disappeared into the dark interior of the small room and Jersey and I looked at each other. Then, as she so often did, Jersey said exactly what I was thinking. “As if!” I took the first step into Lady Sheelah’s room. Jersey was right behind me. I felt her fingers fist in the tails of my shirt, tails I’d purposely left hanging out over my cheesy blue plaid skirt. Leaving my shirt untucked was my tribute to individuality among all the other uniform-clad students. “They” frowned upon it, but Jersey and I had decided two months ago that they could make us wear a uniform at Veritas Academy, but they could never make us all look the same. For Jersey, that meant wearing lots of costume jewelry and fingernail polish in every color of the rainbow. In the quiet of the room, I heard nothing but the smack of Jersey’s lips as she chomped on her gum. “Jersey, shh,” I whispered over my shoulder. “I can’t help it. I’m ‘nervous chewing’,” she explained in a hushed voice. I don’t know how it was possible that I hadn’t yet

become accustomed to her loud gum-chewing. She’d done it almost all our lives, ever since she’d bought a pack of Hubba Bubba on our first trip to dry land. Doing my best to tune it out, I called softly to Aidan. “Over here,” came his response. The normal tones with which he spoke eased my fretting mind. In fact, I was just about to relax when I rounded the corner and saw him standing over Lady Sheelah. From behind Aidan’s shoulder, I could only see her head. Her dark brown hair was spread out around her, fanned out almost purposefully. Her face was turned to one side, her expression blank, her jaw slack. When I saw the splatters of silver on her pale cheek, I gasped. There was only one thing I knew of that looked like that. It would’ve been red inside her body, but outside it… Numbly, I edged my way around Aidan. My stomach rebelled at the sight that lay before my eyes. At the foot of her twin bed, Lady Sheelah lay prone on the floor, surrounded by a pool of liquid silver. It was mercury, the blood of the mermaid.

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