Delayed Penalty (Crossing the Line, #1)(79)

The hometown hero, that would put this small town on the map for making it big, died in a plane crash, just as his dreams were taking off.

Then I remembered that despite this, despite the tragedy that took my family, despite the brutal attack on me when I was trying to move on, the sun would still rise and set over this small town because it was here where I was born and raised. It was here where that hometown hero was raised, and it was here where I finally realized that just because you ran away from home didn't mean that all of you left.

As soon as I saw my old house, I felt my heart clench at memories I tried to keep hidden.

They were woven into everything I did.

I knew that eventually I needed to go back for closure. That happened late that summer when Evan wanted to come with me.

"So this is Lebanon, Oregon, eh?"

"Yes. Nothing but farms and a race track," I said, trailing off a little when I thought about what else was here. "And a baseball field."

"I'd like to see it, if you want me to."

"The baseball field?"

"Yes," he whispered with a low exhale. "If it gets me a little closer to knowing you, I want to see it."

"You already know me."

He shook his head, scrunching his nose from the cow shit smell that seemed to always settle here. "I know the Chicago you. I don't know the small-town girl who was born and raised in the town. I want to know her, too."

I wasn't sure what his reaction would be, but he surprised me.

I gave him a watery smile as my unsteady fingers wiped away the tears.

"Ami..." he breathed, his voice nearly silent. I stared at him, waiting for him to say something more. "They'll always be with you." His fingers touched my cheek, sweeping the tears away, and then trailed down my neck, over my collarbone to my chest where he tapped right below my locket with his index finger. "They'll be right here, always."

People have told me that my description of my family was bare and that my voice got a faraway tone to it. Maybe it did, I wasn't conscious of it; the memory burned hot and deep. I knew that. When I talked about them, the memory was a very vivid one, to me at least. It didn't feel faraway.

"When did you know you were in love with me?"

He nodded, staring down at our hands as his fingers laced with mine. "When I walked into that hospital room and you looked at me for the first time, I was done." He looked up at me then, and I knew exactly what he meant because when I saw him that night, I couldn't breathe having heard that voice before and seeing that face in my mind. "Then you smiled and wrecked me."

The warmth of his touch through my tank top served as a reminder that I wasn't alone. Never again, I was sure of that.

"The night I left for Chicago, this was the last place I went," I said, pointing to the ball field where I'd spent nearly every day with Andrew growing up. I looked up at the sky and felt it for the first time. They were watching over me. They brought me this all-heart boy to show me I still had someone to live for. I had enough heart for all three of them right here in Evan Masen.

"There's times when I feel a shiver, and suddenly I remember every detail about them. Then there's times where I can't remember what they look like, and it scares me to think someday their memory will be gone."

"It won't." He tapped my chest again and winked. "They're right there."

Evan was right. It wouldn't. They would forever be in my heart.

I took Evan around Lebanon and visited my grandmother, my only living family besides my aunts and uncles that I avoided. After my parents died they all wanted me to live with them, forced it actually, but it wasn't what I wanted. Legally speaking, my grandmother was my guardian until I turned eighteen. When I told her I needed to leave, she understood and never asked questions. It had to have been hard for her that I left, and she didn't know what happened to me, but she understood why.

Evan enjoyed her. They talked for a while. She was a huge San Jose fan and asked about the fight between Evan and Dave.

Calmly and better than I expected, Evan told our story to her. He told her about finding me and staying with me and falling in love with me. The entire time he was telling the story, I just stared at him, entranced in the voice, yes, but captivated by the heart he put into the detail of how he remembered everything.

Until then, I had never heard him talk in detail about how he found me, what he witnessed and why he stayed. Now, hearing him tell it, I don't think I could have possibly loved him more after knowing what he did for me.





When we got back from Oregon, we went back to Pittsburgh to spend some time with his family. After the trip back to my hometown, I realized that wasn't where my family was any longer. I promised to keep in touch with the ones I had, but it was here, at this table in the Quaker Steak and Lube in Pittsburgh, surrounded by hockey players and Evan's family. That was my family now.

It was the middle of summer, late July, and I really shouldn't have been wearing a jacket but I was, intending on teasing Evan. I was wearing shorts and had this long gray jacket on over that. It looked odd now that I thought about it, and Evan noticed.

"Take your coat off," he said, looking over the menu. "It's hot in here. Aren't you hot?"

"Nah, I'm cold." I grinned coyly, keeping my eyes on the menu.