She’d knocked on the half-open door, but no one had answered. Probably because no one could hear her. She pushed opened the door and stepped inside.

The open area was huge, maybe ten thousand square feet, with soaring ceilings. Big windows allowed the L.A. sunshine to illuminate everything. The floor was concrete, and the music was even louder here. The bass caused her chest to vibrate.

But what caught her attention was the scaffolding in the center of the massive room. Reaching nearly as high as the ceiling, it was a complex framework with platforms and railings. It surrounded a gigantic, twisted piece of metal.

The piece seemed to curl in on itself, yet reached up at the same time. As Nevada studied it, she felt as if the shards had been ripped open by a blast, then hastily put back together, but not in the right order. There was tragedy in the work. A sense of loss.

After a few seconds, she noticed a woman stood near the top of the scaffolding, welding sparks showering her. From this distance, Nevada couldn’t tell much about her, except that she was tall and thin.

“You made it.”

The voice came from her left, a shout to be heard over the music. She turned and saw Tucker. Only this guy wasn’t the tall, skinny teenage boy she remembered. This guy was broad and handsome, with an easy smile and eyes that beamed with pleasure at seeing her. Despite the loud music, the strange building and the unusual artwork, everything disappeared. The world became a pinprick of light, expanding again until there was only Tucker.

Nevada had never believed in love at first sight. Never thought it was possible for one soul to recognize another. Never knew what it was like to have the very breath stolen from her body. She stood rooted, unable to move or speak. She could only stare at the man she knew she would love for the rest of her life.