Page 8 of Find Me Again

Which was stupid. Of course it would have changed things—it would've made it easier for all three of them, but especially him, since he wouldn't have to lie and overthink stuff so much.

What it wouldn't have changed, though, was his decision to leave for Chicago, because no matter how difficult it had been at the time, no matter what it had cost him, he'd always known it was the right path for him.

He wasn't proud of how he'd handled it, but he hadn't regretted it.

And yet here he was, driving up the hill he hadn't been on in twelve years.

When he saw the tire tracks, he smiled at the thought of someone else finally discovering this place. Back then, he and Ryan hadn't shared it with any of their other friends, wanting to keep it for themselves, but it was still bizarre to him that the two of them had never seen anyone else up there.

Not anymore, apparently.

He drove slowly, no longer used to driving in the snow, but the path was unchanged from what he remembered. Who knew, maybe he would be able to ride up there with his eyes closed even now, since muscle memory was a hell of a thing.

Then he got to the top and saw the other car, recognizing it right away.

It belonged to Ryan's father.

Neil hit the brakes, overwhelmed by the improbability of it all—the dream, the decision to come here, the chance of Ryan being in town, let alone here, at the same time as he was.

Twelve years he'd avoided this. Twelve long years, only to stumble upon Ryan in the very place where it had all started and then fallen apart.

He could still leave. One turn around on the narrow path and he could pretend it never happened.

A man stepped out from behind the car and all thoughts disappeared from Neil's head as their gazes met.

Jesus Christ.

His heart was beating loudly and his hands were sweating like every time he closed them around his stick right before a big game.

Ryan was taller than Neil remembered, and although he was bundled up in a bulky winter gear, his long legs were on full display in fitted jeans.

And his eyes… They were always the most beautiful part of him, one that had haunted Neil's dreams his freshman year of college and beyond. They still felt familiar, against all odds and reasons.

Then Ryan disappeared behind the car again, and in his mind, Neil could picture him sitting down on the back of his father's truck and staring out onto the forest in front of him.

Neil could still go. He could make that turn, and drive away, and look over his shoulder anytime he ventured into town for the rest of his time here.

Nobody would know but the two of them.

It would be fine.

Clenching his hands around the steering wheel, he stared at where Ryan disappeared for one heartbeat, then another.

It wouldn't be fine.Hewouldn't be fine, because no matter how easy or how hard it had been to not think about Ryan when he hadn't seen him or heard from him for the twelve goddamn years, this was different. Right now, Neil was about a minute away from Ryan he'd never seen before, this older version of theboy he'd loved with all that he'd known how to give, back then.

Fuck, Neil hadn't called it for what it was for so long, and yet now that he'd taken one look at the man, there was no denying it any longer.

There was no driving away, either.

Whatever this was going to be—good, bad, or ugly—it needed to finally happen.

Neil needed it to happen.

He slowly drove up and parked his car next to the other one, facing the opposite direction. Then, after counting to three, he left the safety of the truck.

As the cold air hit him, he zipped up his jacket and pushed his hands into his pockets, curling them into fists as he took the last few steps to see Ryan again, this time from much closer.

And Neil knew all too well how it felt to be slammed hard against the boards by another hockey player colliding with him at high speed, but it still had nothing on the way he felt the second he met Ryan Dawson's gaze at that very moment.

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