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heard me.”
    “You know who I am?”
    “Marissa Johnson, formerly known as Rissa Bennett.”
    And he’d known her too damn well, kissing every inch of her body. Doing things with his lips and mouth she’d never experienced before…or since. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” she said.
    “What did you expect me to say?”
    “Nothing.” He’d said nothing when he’d dumped her all those years ago. She was foolish to think he’d explain now. Not that she cared.
    “I’m just guessing here, but you seem to be pretty pissed off at me still,” he said.
    “Ya think?”
    “That was a long time ago. I mean, it’s not like I ruined you for life or anything. You moved on. Got married.”
    “To a guy who cheated on me.” Marissa hated that she’d said the words out loud.
    “I heard you were divorced.”
    “Is that why you came out here this morning? To hassle me about being divorced?”
    “Why would I do that?”
    “Why should you care, you mean? You’re right. I’m sure you haven’t thought of me once in the past ten years. I know I haven’t thought of you.”
    “Really.”
    There was no question mark at the end of his one-word comment. Instead he’d infused it with the silent observation
I think you’re lying.
    “Yes, really. You don’t believe me?” She was tired of people picking on her, starting with her sister last night and now her first lover this morning.
    Connor shrugged. “Like I said, you seem pissed.”
    “I am.”
    “At me.”
    “Bingo.”
    “Why be angry with me if you haven’t thought of me in ten years?”
    “Because seeing you again reminds me of what a rat bastard you were.”
    Connor wasn’t expecting her to call him out on his behavior although he should have, given the way he’d been pushing her buttons. What was wrong with him? Why was he looking for trouble?
    Before he could say another word, she jogged off,clearly in a hurry to get away from his rat bastard self. Could he blame her? Not really. There was little he could do to explain his behavior because he knew that no explanation would be good enough.
    He kept watching her as she moved down the block. He remembered her telling him that she’d been a band geek in high school and hadn’t made the track team. What instrument had she played? The flute? No, it was the clarinet. She’d laughed and told him she didn’t play it well. Something to do with her lips on the instrument. He definitely recalled how that particular conversation had ended. They’d had sex.
    Connor hadn’t wanted a serious relationship. His first love had broken his heart after he’d followed her all the way here to Hopeful and Midwest College. Rissa had been his rebound girl. He’d had no idea she was a virgin.
    To this day he couldn’t say if he’d loved Rissa back then. Had he told her those words? He wasn’t sure anymore. So much had happened in his life since then.
    Hell, he’d only been nineteen at the time. Young, cocky and so damn positive he was invincible.
    He knew better now. Knew that bad things happened to good people. That sometimes he couldn’t protect those he’d been assigned to serve and protect. He couldn’t always right the world’s wrongs. Hell, he couldn’t even right one city neighborhood’s wrongs.
    He hadn’t been strong enough or smart enough or tough enough. Something was lacking in him. Not guilt, though. He had plenty of that to go around.
    He hadn’t been the first Chicago cop to burn out and move on. He was the first in his family though, and that was a big burden to carry. Although she missed havinghim nearby, his mom had been okay with the fact that he’d chosen to return to Hopeful instead of stay on in Chicago.
    Connor suspected his dad, a career cop, thought he was a coward although he’d never said the word aloud. On his darkest nights, Connor heard the word in his head again and again. He should have stayed and fought. That’s what Doyle men did. They stayed and they fought.
    Not that