Xander should’ve gone home after his beer at Elvira’s. It had been a long-ass week and, he should’ve hit the hay early, tried to catch up on some sleep. He should not have driven out to this spot to indulge in some toxic game of “What if?” Except how could he not, with everybody and their brother asking him about Kennedy?
Xander picked his way down the trail from his old Bronco. If he was going to think about her, he might as well do it in their spot. Where they’d first become true friends and, later, lovers.
Back then, they’d been trespassing. Now, he owned the land that looked out on the valley. That had been some kind of twisted decision, to buy the place when old man Miller died. He’d tried to tell himself it was just practical. The house met his needs, fit in his budget, and the vie
