The burnt-orange sun set sluggishly over the lake, and I watched from the window of my living room. I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting sprawled out on the sofa, but the gurgling in my stomach meant I missed dinner hours ago. After two days of agonizing silence from Eden, I messed with my phone, glaring at the screen. I scrolled to her name, then let my thumb hover over it, never tapping the screen. She wouldn’t answer if I called. Would she? I wasn’t sure if she’d even forgive me for the City Net debacle, which had concluded in a two-hour verbal sparring match that was supposed to have been a simple meeting.

When I arrived at the conference room, I had a planned speech and the paperwork ready to be signed by all parties. Then in walked Eden with fire in her eyes. Out for blood, she’d sauntered over to me with metaphorical switchblade in hand, ready to cut me open.

Without wavering, she’d grabbed the contracts straight out of my hands and told me she’d be running the meeting. I’d stared at her, blinking in disbelief. I thought she’d be less tense after what happened in her office, but I underestimated her frustration with my title. Fuck my vindictive father for lying to me. It didn’t help matters that she hadn’t known about the City Net meeting taking place. Vince should have been informed to put it in her schedule. I hadn’t thought anything of it when I mentioned it to her.

Fucking hell.

My phone chimed, shaking me out of my daze. Nathaniel.

I’m outside.

“Thank fuck,” he said when I opened the door. “I thought maybe you were knocked out for the night and I would have to crash in my car.” His voice was unsteady.

He looked worn out, like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Apart from the fact that he didn’t have a beard, you’d think he was an out-of-work slacker. “What the hell happened to you?”

He strode past me into the foyer. We both stood there a minute before his head slumped. “I called off the engagement.”

“Shit. What happe—”

“Lauren cheated.”

I’d never witnessed Nate fall apart before, not throughout his parents’ divorce, and not when his sister almost died from alcohol poisoning our senior year of college. The guy even survived the chicken pox the week of his thirty-second birthday.

“Let’s get you a scotch, and then you can tell me what the hell happened.”

“I might need more than one.”

We walked in silence through the hall as we made our way to the den. Nate entered before me, immediately plopping down on the leather couch with one big sigh. He shut his eyes and dropped his head back, seeming so lost in his post-breakup fog. But who could blame the guy? We joked constantly about the ol’ ball and chain, but Lauren was the love of his life. They’d met ten years ago when we first moved back from New York. I wasn’t sure what to say to him, so I poured him a tumbler of his favorite scotch on the rocks, filling the glass to the brim, and another for myself.

Extending the drink, I said, “It’ll be all right.”

“Will it?” he asked, and the sadness is his question pierced me like an arrow. I hated seeing him like this.

I sat beside him. He took a gulp of the chilled malt liquor, and I did the same, supportively squeezing his shoulder. We weren’t good at feelings, but there was something to be said about sharing a quiet scotch with a lifelong friend, because even without words he knew I would always be there for him.

“It will,” I reassured him. “Maybe not today or tomorrow, but you’ll be all right.”

A few minutes passed as Nate sipped his drink, savoring each gulp until he finished it.

“What happened?” I took the opportunity to ask.

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, head hanging between his shoulders, before he replied in a gruff, cracked voice, “You mean, how did I find out?”

Man, this is bad.

I couldn’t say anything; whatever I chose would seem trivial, like bullshit on a platter. I wasn’t sure how he’d react if I pressed him for more information, so I sat there until he was ready.

“S-She handed me her phone to see a picture of her nephew and she got a text . . .” He trailed off.

I picked his glass off of the small wooden coffee table and walked over to the wet bar. “Go on.”

“It said, ‘Hey babe, what are you wearing?’ I mean can you fucking believe that shit?” He rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “At first, I didn’t think anything of it because it was a chick’s name—Blaire, or Brianna, or some shit, I don’t remember exactly—but she snatched the phone back so quick . . . it was odd. There was an awkward silence, then she left the room, mumbling something about calling her friend about a blind date.”

I listened patiently from across the room, and then strode back to the couch with his fresh scotch in hand.

Nate took the drink in his hands, pressing the glass to his cheek. “When she came back, something felt off. She put her phone on silent, said she wanted to shower before dinner, then snuck away. I went in there to grab a fresh shirt, and she’d left her cell on the nightstand. My fucking curiosity got the best of me; I wanted to take a look, put my mind at ease. You know me, I would never snoop, but . . . God, Jameson. When I opened the messages app, there were texts, pictures, and conversations going back and forth for weeks, maybe months. Sexting even. The dirtiest shit you could ever imagine,” he said. “I threw her phone against the wall. She didn’t hear a thing, so I packed a bag and left.”

“Christ.” I squeezed his shoulder again.

Eyes glassy, he turned to me and asked, “Are there any loyal women left? I’ve been with Lauren for over a decade.”

“They aren’t all unfaithful. You deserve better. Come on. You’re a stand-up guy. Just because she didn’t know what she had doesn’t mean all women are the same. You’ll find someone better, a woman who is . . . who knows what she has.”

Nate downed his second round of scotch in one big gulp. Slamming his empty glass down, he offered this advice, “Do me a favor, then—if you ever find someone who is faithful, don’t let her go.”

As his words rang in my ears, the reality of Eden hit me. I’d never found anyone who came close. Nate had something real with Lauren, at least up until now, but I never had since Eden, not once. It made me think how petty we’d been, squandering all these years. Even though she hated me, and even after everything that happened between us, she would never cheat. Eden would kick my ass for ignoring her, or give me an earful about treating her better, but she wouldn’t sneak around. It hadn’t been so clear until this moment.

My mind felt like a big ping-pong ball. If my best friend, who’d been with the same woman for ten years, couldn’t make it work, how could I with Eden, especially after everything we’d been through?

I was only sure of one thing: I needed to try.

I looked at Nate. “I won’t.”

He nodded. “Now get me another,” he insisted, holding his tumbler in my face.

* * *

Two rounds of billiards, seven scotches, and managing one knocked-out best friend should have put me to sleep for a week, but I stared at the ceiling above my bed. Thoughts of Eden consumed me. Countless minutes ticked by until the clock on the bedside table read 5:48 a.m. Perfect.

Nate had passed out hours ago, having drank himself into a deep sleep. I might have egged him on a bit. It was easier than seeing him torn up. We’d spent a good portion of the evening talking, and after his fourth drink he started to list all the signs he’d missed: the late nights at the office, the shady phone calls, the odd number of work trips she’d been taking.

I struggled to rationalize how he couldn’t have known, but maybe he’d been busy: helping her plan the wedding, selling their condo, working on a huge gated community project at work. When he was officially done for the evening, I made sure he got to the guest room and didn’t end up on my couch.

The whole night, as much as I tried, my mind kept drifting back to Eden, picturing her wearing that sinful blue dress and imagining the way her skin smelled. I’d known she’d be trouble from the moment I met her, but I hadn’t realized what kind.

She wasn’t the same doe-eyed twenty-one-year-old girl from Brooklyn; she’d matured into this incredible woman. An assertive, take-no-prisoners kind of women, and it was hot as fuck. What I didn’t expect was her vulnerable side, the one I witnessed more and more over the last few weeks whenever we were alone together.

What I needed to do now was clear: make her mine.