It had taken two weeks for the clouds to clear up, not that the sunlight did much to help with the cold. Lena zipped her jacket the rest of the way and stuffed her hands in her pockets, trying to figure out just what Jason’s game was. He’d hardly glanced at her since that day on the walking path where she’d somehow been talked into telling a stranger her whole life story.

Why would he do that? She ducked past a broken branch. Make me spill my guts like that, then go back to acting like I don’t exist?

Ty and Chad, who she’d been surprised to find she could actually tolerate, had told her it was something to do with Jason’s past. That he’d been forced through the wringer and had closed himself off almost completely. She wondered what could have happened to him, as she snapped a dead twig from a tree and tossed it aside. She spent every minute she could in the clearing behind her street—doing her homework, scratching out new designs in her sketchbook. If she could only build some kind of shack there, somewhere to stay when Kara was on the warpath, since the woman would never risk her high-end clothes or shoes on a trek through the woods.

It didn’t hurt that Jason was there almost every day, too, always too deep in his tai chi or kickboxing to notice her stealing peeks at him from her calculated spot by the boulder. As confused as she was about him, she couldn’t deny how hot he was, even when he slipped on the damp grass or a puddle.

She giggled, remembering when he’d fallen face first in a patch of mud a few weeks before, when summer had been winding down. He’d knelt on the far side of the pond, using handfuls of water to rinse the mud from his mouth, splashing his face to wash off the rest of it. He’d peeled out of his shirt, dunking it to clean the stain, and she’d gasped when he’d turned his back to her. He’d jumped, looking around before tugging the soaked shirt over his head; she hadn’t moved until she’d been sure he was gone, long after the sun had set.

I never thought that’s what he was hiding!

The well-toned muscles in his back had been crisscrossed with long, narrow scars, the memory enough to make her shudder. What the hell could have happened to him?

She looked around when she reached the clearing, not quite used to the silence. The pond was half-frozen, the slushy surface rippling in the wind, the last flowers clinging stubbornly to their faded petals. The only signs of life were some squirrels gathering nuts and a few birds pecking and scratching at the ground.

That’s weird. She stopped by the boulder, glad most of it was in the sun. He’s always here before me, where’d he—

“You know, if you wanted to spy on me, you could’ve at least asked.”

She jumped; Jason was standing behind her, his arms crossed loosely at his chest, the same impassive look on his face. It was only the second time she’d seen him with his hair down; the deep green jacket and dark jeans he wore looked expensive, and fairly new.

“I-I’m not spying,” her cheeks flared as she brushed invisible leaves from her long skirt. At least she’d been able to sneak a pair of leggings under it. “I just tripped. And did you really have to scare me like that?”

He chuckled.

“I didn’t have to,” he said lightly. “But you made it pretty easy.”

She glared at him, turning to leave when he grabbed her shoulder.

“Okay, fine, I’m sorry I scared you,” he flashed an amused smirk. “Happy?”

She pulled away.

“For now,” she climbed on the boulder and crossed her legs. “And I wasn’t spying.”

“What would you call it, then?” he sat next to her, letting his feet dangle. “Stalking?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn’t call it anything. We just hang out in the same places every day and—”

“Completely ignore each other?” he finished for her. He leaned back on his hands, bringing one knee up. She huffed.

“Speak for yourself,” she swept part of a twig from her sleeve. “You’re the one who made me share my life story, then went right back to ignoring me.”

He winced.

“You’re right, that was messed up,” he grinned sheepishly, showing his braces were purple instead of blue. “I’m sorry, Lena, and I actually mean it this time.”

She chuckled, nudging his shoulder.

“You don’t have to sound so beat up about it, I’m not that delicate.”

He laughed.

“So, why do you come out here for your tai chi and kickboxing?” she asked. “Wouldn’t it be easier to do it at home?”

He shrugged.

“Yeah, but I like it out here,” he laid back, putting his hands behind his head. “It’s quiet.”

“Until you start blaring your music,” she stretched out on her side, propping her chin on her fist. “Not that I have a problem with your taste.”

He smiled again.

“What about you?” he turned his head toward her. “Why do you like coming out here?”

She focused on her finger as she traced a dark line in the rock. It was one thing to tell him what had happened in the past, but it felt like something completely different to let him know what she dealt with now.

“Autumn told me you and Ty were in a band together,” she blurted. Anything to change the subject. “How’d you guys meet?”

He looked at her, then sat up, brushing a lock of hair from his face.

“Gym class,” he straightened his jacket. “He’s one of the only people who have ever kicked my ass at soccer.”

She giggled.

“He was always captain of some team back in Grand Rapids,” she scratched her cheek. “But I never saw him touch an instrument willingly, what’s he play?”

He groaned.

“Well, it’s supposed to be keyboard, but he usually just screws with the mixing when we record,” he rolled his eyes. “Last time, he made us sound like chipmunks.”

She laughed. Ty had always loved things that messed with his voice.

“That sounds like him,” she blushed again. “I’d love to hear you guys play sometime, without the chipmunks.”

He flashed a grin.

“I think I can arrange that.”