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“You had your chance to stop me.”

He gripped my hand. “Look, I know I fucked up. But you weren’t the only who received an ultimatum.”

I wanted to rail against him. Ultimatum or not, he should have taken my side. I would’ve taken his. Instead, he’d left me swinging in the wind alone.

Early on, I’d learned not to count on anyone. Was I just supposed to forget all of that now?

My eyes burned as I stared at the tie-dye swirl on my kaftan. “It was always me and you against them.”

“No. You only saw it that way. They’re not perfect, but they just wanted what was best for you.”

“Best for me?” My head jerked up to meet his gaze. “A closet full of twin sets like our mother?”

“Come on.” He squeezed my hand. “She didn’t wear twin sets. It was more like Chanel suits in pink. Lots of pink.”

I shuddered. “So much pink. But not the good kind.” I pointed at the hot pink in the kaftan. “That’s the good kind of pink.”

“Yeah, if you’re twelve.”

“Twenty-seven, thanks.”

He turned my hand over and laced his fingers with mine. “We can help you monetarily. With whatever you want to do.”

I tamped down the offense brewing in my gut. Or it could be acid heading for higher ground once more. The Hastings always wanted to throw money at a problem to make it go away. “I don’t need your money, X. I’ve been taking care of myself for years.”

He bristled and pulled his hand away.

I turned toward him. “I could use my brother though.”

He wound his arm around my neck and dragged me against him. “But you really need a shower.”

I punched him in the belly. “Ow.”

“Serves you right for punching me.” He set his chin on top of my head. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me? I have an awesome housekeeper.”

“I’m sure she’d love to take care of a stranger.”

“I pay her handsomely.”

“I bet you do.” With our family money. The golden boy was exactly what my father had groomed him to be. “I just need to get out of here for a little while and think.”

I hadn’t even realized I was going to say that until it came out. Instantly, my chest felt less tight. Maybe that was what I’d needed all along.

“Then come back with me.”

“No. But I’m going to call Ry.” She had a small apartment, but we’d slept on the same bed a few dozen times. It was no big deal.

I started to rise, but he held up a hand. “What are you doing? If you get up, you’ll probably fall on your face.”

He wasn’t wrong. I sighed. “Can you get my phone? It’s over on my desk.”

He retrieved it and held it out of reach. “I’m driving you.”

“Fine.”

I ignored the texts from Caleb waiting for me and called my best friend. Always a crapshoot. Ryan and I weren’t attached to our phones like some people. Probably because we spent so much of our lives in service to others.

“Hey, girl. What’s up?”


Tags: Taryn Quinn Crescent Cove Romance