"Stop sulking," Ria scolds me as we tuck into ice cream cones near the park.

"I'm not sulking." I take an extra big bite of my vanilla cone, wiping the rainbow sprinkles that stick to the tip of my nose away with the back of my hand.

"Classy." Ria snickers.

I roll my eyes but manage to crack a small, almost-smile. I am sulking. It’s been five days since I’ve spoken to Carter and I’m miserable.

We sit in silence for a few moments, listening to the birds call out around us, our legs swinging freely against the stone wall we sit on. It's warm out, the summer heat finally disappearing into autumn breezes. I'm a hot mess today. I’ve spent the entire morning feng-shuing my townhouse and I’m thinking about redecorating completely.

I need a change, and other than dying my hair brown, that’s the fastest way I can obtain a new beginning.

I’ve applied for several education programs to begin next fall. I’m giving myself one year to ensure my modeling career ends on a high note, with closure.

"Are you really going to re-do your place?” Ria asks, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yeah. You'll have to come check it out. And stay over. We can order as much pizza as we want and watch movies. Or reality TV. Or start a book club. Or do pedicures."

Ria laughs, holding out a hand to stop my suggestions. "I'll come visit you. Don't worry. You won't be all alone."

She says it as a joke, but her words land like a punch to the gut. It’s true. I really don’t want to be all alone.

"You really like him, don't you?"

I cut Ria a look from the side of my eye, but she just shrugs, grinning at me.

"I don't know whom you're talking about."

"Oh, come on, Tay. You're miserable. So, what happened?"

"With Carter?"

"Duh. I could care less about Barrington."

"But you like Carter?" I ask, suddenly curious as to what she thinks about Marco's big brother. About the guy who managed to snag my heart without trying, except, he was trying. There's always an ulterior motive with men. Doesn't matter where they come from or where they're going, there's always more than meets the eye.

Ria chews her lower lip, her eyes trained on her butter pecan cone. Finally, she nods. "I do. Marco thinks he’s awesome. He's been really great to Marco, helpful with his baseball team, and hasn't flaked once the whole summer. And I think it's more than his court sentencing. He just, he really likes Marco."

I nod. Carter adores Marco, and their friendship is evolving way past the mandatory hanging out sessions.

"And I see the way he looks at you."

I glance at her sharply.

"He cares about you. For real cares about you. Not just for some stupid picture or to have a conversation with your dad. I know I give him a hard time, and I know the way y'all met is way weird…" She pauses to catch a drop of ice cream that melts down the side of her cone. "But he's the real deal, Tay. Whatever he did to mess it up, I think you should at least see if he wants to fix it before you cut him off."

I look away from Ria, eating my ice cream and thinking over her words. I felt it, when Carter looked at me. I felt the thing, the zing, the connection that was more than a matter of convenience. But then why would he send those messages? Why would he be involved with Daddy’s gambling? I open my mouth to explain some of the complications to Ria and then close it again. What’s the use in changing the way she views Carter? Would she tell Marco? Would it affect their relationship?

It doesn't make any sense. Everything I've witnessed in Carter to date, the way he agreed to coach Marco's team, the way he watches me from the corner of his eye to make sure I'm not pushing myself too hard, the way he worries about his sister and talks about his brothers, it doesn't line up with a guy who would purposely manipulate me, date me, want to be with me, while exploiting my dad’s gambling addiction.

So do I let him explain? Or do I cut him off?

I knock tentatively on the door to Carter's home. Biting my bottom lip, my mind floods with the bittersweet memories of the last time I was here. The loudness of the Kane household with too many bodies huddled around the island in the kitchen drinking coffee and eating eggs benedict. All of us hungover, laughing about the antics of the night before, lamenting over Evie and Jax's move taking place the following day. For a brief moment, a snapshot in time, it felt like I belonged somewhere. Like this family somehow reached out and plucked me up and wrapped me in their warmth. And now I don't, and the cold realization as I stare at the door fills in my stomach like sand.

The door swings open, and Denver stands before me, a severe expression on his face, his larger-than-life presence overwhelming. I shuffle back nervously.

His expression softens when he sees it's me. "Hey." He rubs his forearm against his forehead, mopping up beads of sweat that dot his hairline. He's wearing a tight black tank, the flow of his ink interrupted with random smears of grease. "Sorry, I was out back working on an engine. How ya doing?"

I stare up at him, my voice disappearing. My throat burns, and my eyes sting with the sudden onslaught of emotion. Denver dips his head in concern, stepping out onto the porch and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You all right, Taylor?" His voice is low and soothing, and his concern for me, his compassion, causes more tears to well in my eyes.

"Sorry," I mumble, wiping the backs of my fingers under my eyelashes to halt the flow of tears threatening to escape.

"Don't be sorry. If it makes you feel any better, you're much prettier when you cry than Carter."

I snort, the sound loud and unexpected, and Denver cracks the tiniest grin.

"Is he here?" My heart stutters in my chest, partly hoping he's here so I can at least see him, and partly hoping he's not, so I don't have to see him.

Denver nods, gesturing for me to enter the house. "Carter!" he hollers, his voice traveling throughout the first floor.

I step inside hesitantly, standing in the foyer, my palms itchy.

The kitchen door swings open, and Carter walks into the living room. He stops abruptly when he sees me, his eyes widening. His fingers move back and forth as if he's unsure whether to come forward or stay away.

"Hey." His voice is soft, so different from his brother's. He regards me warily, as if he’s uncertain if I’ll stay and hear him out or flee in the next breath.

The air between us seems to charge and sizzle, like a magnetic pull drawing me to him no matter what.

"Hi." I try to smile, but it falls flat as all the unsaid words between us ricochet in my mind. What was his role in Daddy’s gambling? What if I can’t forgive him? Does any of this relate to the accident? Is anything between us real? What if he is the real deal? Can I ever get past this?

"I'm happy you're here," he says, interrupting my thoughts.

Denver places a steadying hand in the middle of my upper back and for the strangest reason, the touch grounds me. "I'll let y'all talk. It was good to see you, Taylor."

"Thanks Denver," I nearly whisper.

"See you around." He steps around me and disappears through the kitchen door that Carter came out of just moments before.

"Come on in." Carter holds a hand out to me. "Denver's working out back, so the kitchen is empty. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"A water would be great." I place my hand in his, the gentle pressure of his fingertips causing a circuit of electricity to zip up my arm, through my shoulder, and straight to my heart. Following him into the kitchen, the sweet sight of the gingham curtains, lace dishtowels, and cookie jar eases my rapid heartbeat. The magnets on the refrigerator ground me and I remind myself that I can do this. I came here for answers, and Carter seems more than willing to discuss everything with me.

"Take a seat." Carter gestures to the island, and I slide onto one of the barstools.

He places a cold glass of water in front of me and gestures toward the cookie jar, pulling out a chocolate chip cookie and wrapping it in a napkin before handing it to me. "This stuff only happens when my sister is home."

I take a slow bite and am surprised by the flavorful burst of chocolate and walnuts. "It's really good. I'll have to ask Daisy for the recipe."

Carter braces his forearms against the island and watches me for a few moments. I take another bite of cookie, stalling to figure out what I want to say, to explain why I'm here, and to try and understand everything that happened.

"I want to explain everything to you. No secrets, no lies. I'm just going to put everything out on the table, and you can decide for yourself if you believe me or not, or if you never want to see me again. Alright?" He clasps his hands in front of him and looks at me earnestly, his green eyes darkening with emotion. I see the smallest flicker of hope, and I have to look away or it will cut at me.

I nod.

He rolls his lower lip in between his teeth and nods. "Okay."