It’s been two long weeks since Kylee packed her bags and headed back to Atlanta with her father and her fiancé. Was she really having an affair with me while planning to marry one of the douchebag Jackinoff assholes? Fuck, could my life be any more of a mess?

Running on empty, completely lost without her, I sit on my bike outside Gram’s house, no desire to go to work today. With the deep pain of loss leaving me drained, all I want to do is drink myself to sleep and curl up on my own fucking misery. Gram comes from the front door, a load of containers in her hands. Last night’s leftovers. She slides them into the back of the truck and heads inside to get the rest. I throw my leg over the bike and take the stairs two at a time to help her. She’s a bit breathless when she comes back out, meeting me on the porch, and I look her over.

“Are you okay, Gram?”

“The heat is getting to me,” she says.

Worry gnaws at me. She hasn’t quite been herself since Kylee left and I’ve been doing nothing but basking in my own shithole misery when I should have been paying closer attention to her health. “Why don’t I drive you to Hope Falls and help out?”

Gram touches my cheek. “Such a sweet boy.”

I swallow at the gesture, my mind once again returning to Kylee and the endearments she used with me. I still can’t fucking believe she thought I could rape someone. That she actually fucking asked me if it was true. After everything we’ve done, the intimacies we shared, when it came right down to it, she didn’t believe me, or believe in me.

She believed in you enough to help with the tattoo shop.

What the fuck ever.

When it came to the important things, like thinking I was a rapist, she questioned me, and that spoke volumes. I should have kept my fucking dick in my pants. Haven’t I learned that rich pampered girls only like to play games with boys from the wrong side of the tracks? We’re not the kind of guys they bring home to Daddy, and I was a stupid asshole for thinking we had something of value, something that went beyond the bedroom. I hadn’t seen much of Kylee before she upped and left, I’d been too busy tearing down a wall at the tattoo shop and adding an extension, using money I didn’t have. Now it was all for nothing.

I feel like total shit, and the truth is, two months ago, I might have said I didn’t care what anyone thought of me, but that was bullshit. I cared what Kylee thought, and I thought she believed in me. When will I ever fucking learn where rich pampered girls are concerned?

Yeah, I’ve been down this road, but this time it hurt more, because back when I was a kid it wasn’t real love. No, what I had with Kylee was deep, meaningful, something that forevers are built on. A dark sound catches in my throat. Yeah, well, let me rephrase . . . what I thought I had with Kylee was deep, meaningful, something forevers are built on—or not.

What a stupid son of a bitch.

Who now sports a broken fucking heart.

Fuck me.

I finish carrying the containers to the truck and help Gram into the passenger seat. Her face is flushed and anger morphs to worry. “You sure you’re okay?”

She waves me away. “I will be,” she says. “When it all works out.”

Even though I have no idea what she means by that, I drive to Hope Falls. I park outside the shelter and help her bring the containers inside. The second we enter, my heart falls into my stomach, my breath leaving my lungs in a loud whoosh.

No. Fucking. Way.

Gram is watching me, studying me closely, and I shake my head, incredulous

“I’m the one who should be asking if you’re okay,” she says. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I . . .” When I take in all the women and kids and see most of them are dressed in Kylee’s designer clothes, I stumble a bit. Gram reaches for me, but I sag against the wall and bend forward. With my hands braced on my knees I take deep gulping breaths and try to wrap my brain around this unexpected turn of events.

This . . . this is what she was doing in Hope Falls? Secretly outfitting the needy with clothes and telling no one about it. Here I thought she was meeting Trevor—I basically accused her of that—keeping her fiancé a secret from me when she was helping others.

I am such an asshole for questioning her. I briefly pinch my eyes shut, barely able to hold on to the control fighting against the pain inside me. How could I have done that to her?

“What have I done?” I say to myself.

“It’s not what you’ve done, it’s what you’re going to do next,” Gram says. “If you love her, you’ll fight for her.”

Fight for her? I want to fight for her. Fuck, I want to fight for the love burning so deep inside of me I fear it’s going to consume me whole. But how can I? “Gram, she thought I raped her fiancé’s sister.”

“Fiancé?”

“Yeah, she’s engaged to Trevor Jackson.” I shake my head, gut-wrenching anger tearing me up inside. “I know she did a good thing here, but the bottom line is she’s no different from any other rich, pampered girl. I never should have let myself believe she was.”

“You didn’t, Jamie. You didn’t let yourself believe it. Not once.”

“What are you talking about?”

Gram puts her hand on my face. “Sweet boy, if you thought she was different, you wouldn’t have been trying to hide your relationship and wouldn’t have kept secrets from her. You did it because you were hurt deeply and weren’t about to risk your heart by putting it on the line again. Deep down, you expected the worst from her, because of who she is and where she comes from. You set yourself up for failure, Jamie.”

I tense and a shiver rakes up my back at her blunt words. I struggle to find a flaw in her reasoning. “She’s engaged, Gram.”

Green eyes narrow, “Are you sure about that?”

A numbing sensation settles deep into my bones. “That’s what all the guys said.”

“They also said you raped their sister, and you didn’t. Did Kylee come out and tell you she was engaged?”

The knot in my throat thickens. “No, but she jumped all over me.”

“Did you defend yourself?”

I scoff. “I didn’t bother.”

“Why not?”

Anxiety prickles across my skin as old insecurities and fears rush to the surface. “Because I—”

Motherfucker.

Bile punches into my throat. Gram is right. I set myself up for disaster. I never bothered explaining because deep inside I believed she’d never see me as good enough, rich enough, or anything other than a criminal. I never gave sweet Kylee the benefit of the doubt. Good thing I’m not the lawyer in our relationship.

Relationship.

Yeah, I fucking want a relationship with Kylee. I’m miserable without her. But what can I do? I ruined everything when I turned my back on her and let her walk out of Blue Bay. Dumbass motherfucker that I am.

The room grows so quiet you could hear a pin drop, then Gram breaks the silence by asking, “Are you really going to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you because of past mistakes?” I run my hand through my hair, and Gram continues. “You’re going to have to open up to her, Jamie. Fully. Lay your heart out for her, and trust in her enough to believe she’s not going to shatter it.”

My mind races, sorting through the facts. Is she engaged or not? Did she believe in me or not? What’s real? What isn’t?

As I consider that, my galloping heart settles inside my overly tight chest, because deep inside it, I know the real truth—and because of that, I need my cousin Ryan.