My legs felt unsteady. I gripped the edge of the counter.
I recalled the way he’d sat in my passenger seat, water dripping off his hair onto the towel. I remembered thinking he looked way too tired for fifteen, too worn-out around the eyes. I remembered wanting, very badly, to keep him from hardening into something bitter and small like so many men with similar backgrounds.
I hadn’t known the extent of his family life back then, but I’d seen enough over the years to know his house had more shouting than laughing, more obligations than warmth.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Cade. My brother was talking, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Fifteen.
That was a long damn time to carry a crush around.
Longer still to keep it hidden.
My heart did something uncomfortable in my chest. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
He let out a humorless laugh. “Because you were my best friend’s scary older sister, and I liked having full use of my limbs? Because you’ve never gone for guys like me?” His mouth twitched. “And life went on, and it became easier to pretend it was just a stupid teenage crush than admit it never really went away.”
Colin had gone quiet, watching the two of us like he’d just realized he’d stepped into something much bigger than he’d thought. His brows furrowed, and then he swung around to face Cade more fully. “Anyway, I’m glad you met someone, man. You deserve to be happy.”
Cade’s gaze stayed locked on me, nothing boyish about them now. Just a man who’d laid his truth on the table and wasn’t scrambling to walk it back.
“Yeah,” he agreed solemnly. “I do.”
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. My brain was trying to catch up with the facts. Process everything I’d just learned.
Cade had wanted me since he was fifteen?
That wastwelve yearsof wanting someone who never looked twice at him until a couple of months before that damn New Year’s Eve party, when suddenly I couldn’tstoplooking at him.
Twelve years of watching me date other people while he?—
“I need …” I said, my voice cracking. I grabbed my ledger with shaking hands. “I need to go check on something. Upstairs.”
“Stel—” Cade started to push to his feet.
“Don’t,” I said, holding up a hand. “Just … give me a minute.”
But I was already moving, heading for the stairs to my loft, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Behind me, I heard Colin say, “Dude, I’m sorry. I figured she knew,” but I didn’t stop.
Couldn’t.
I sank onto my bed, rolled onto my side, and pulled the pillow over my face.
How had I not known? How had I missed it?
But even as I asked those questions, I knew the answer. I’d been so wrapped up in my own shit—my insecurities, my walls, my determination to keep everyone at arm’s length—that I’d never stopped to look at him. Not really.
Now, I thought about the way he’d always shown up for me. The way he’d listen when I ranted about terrible customers or another fucking injustice in the world. The way he’d taste-tested every single beer I’d ever made, even the ones that were objectively awful, and given me honest feedback without ever making me feel small.
I thought about last New Year’s Eve, too. The way he’d looked at me like I was something precious. The way he’d touched me like he’d been waiting his whole life for permission.
And then I thought about what my brother had said.
Every relationship he’s had has tanked within like three months.
Was it because of me?
