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itself, and I spied a few men in coveralls bent over an open hood. A piece of notebook paper had been torn out and taped up on the window. It read, Employees Only. No Admittance.
    I rapped on the glass, hoping to catch the attention of one of the men. But they were running some kind of loud drill, and neither of them even glanced my way. I looked over the counter, in case I’d missed a hidden bell or button. Nothing. I glanced around the room, at a loss. It looked like I was going to have to wait for Boomer to find me.
    Tucked back in a corner on the far side of a counter was a cracked brown leather couch. A wooden coffee table showcased a number of what I was sure were the finest in automobile magazines. I maneuvered my way between the two and perched on the edge of the sofa. Taking out my phone, I was about to blast Laura with a text about leaving my car in the middle of nowhere when I heard the squeak and bell of the door again.
    I stood up fast, smiling in expectation. When I saw the man in the threshold, my heart thudded against my ribs.
    I remembered those brown eyes, though in my memory, they were softer and full of warmth. Now they were wide in surprise.
    “You—” I cleared my throat. “Are you—Boomer?”
    “No.” His voice was deep and sounded vaguely insulted. “Where is he?”
    I shrugged, pulling my jacket tighter around me. “How would I know? I thought you were him, so clearly I have no idea.”
    The man shoved a hand through his hair, his lips pressing together into a thin line. “If he’s not in the garage, he’ll probably be here in a minute.”
    “Yeah, that’s what I figured. I was just ...” I pointed at the couch. “Waiting.”
    He nodded, and those gorgeous eyes darted around the room, as though he was anxious to look anywhere but at me. “Here to get your car?”
    “Yes. They called earlier.” I toyed with the silver ring on my right hand. “So, um, you’re the guy who helped us out the other night, aren’t you?”
    His eyebrows rose once again. “Yeah, I am. I’m surprised you’d remember.”
    I smiled, this time for real. “I must have woken up just enough to see you. Your eyes—I remember them.” I stuck out my hand, though it seemed ludicrous when this man had carried me in his arms only a few nights before. “I’m Meghan Hawthorne. You’re Sam, right?”
    He stared at my hand before taking his own out of his jeans pocket and putting it in mine, just long enough to grip and then pull back. It was as though he were afraid to touch me. “Yep. Sam Reynolds.”
    I frowned, looking down at my hand, wondering why he’d seemed reluctant to shake it. “Well, thanks. For saving us, I mean. Laura said she didn’t know what she would have done if you hadn’t come along.”
    “I hope you’ll think about that before you go out and get wasted again. Do you know how irresponsible that was?”
    My mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about?”
    Sam pointed at me. “You. Getting so drunk that your friend had to drag you out of a bar and then when your car broke down— your car, that she was driving—you were passed out in the front seat and couldn’t do a damn thing to help her. Yeah, I call that irresponsible. And being a bad friend, too.”
    Anger began to kindle down in my stomach. “First of all, you know nothing about me. Or Laura. You met us at a very low point for me on one night out of our lives. You have no idea how many times I’ve dragged her drunken ass out of bars or parties, driven her home and put her to bed. Because she’s my friend. And regardless of what you might think, I’m actually a very good friend.”
    He held up his hands like he was pushing me back, though he wasn’t standing anywhere near me. “Whoa. I’m just saying what I saw, and that was a girl who was desperate to figure out how she was going to get home or take care of the car, when her best friend was too drunk to even help her figure it out. We had to carry you into the