Being around her is a damn trial, but not because she’s the annoying little sister of my best friend. It’s because she’s the gorgeous little sister of my best friend.
I’ve made a point to be scarce every time she comes over to hang out with Allie and Sawyer.Thefact she turns eighteen soon would make zero difference to him.
The sound of wood creaking pulls my attention back to the window. And there's Quinn—hair in glossy waves, wearing shorts that are way too short and a shirt that cuts way too tight across her chest, and fuck—
I tear my gaze away from her body—a body I’m not allowed to look at or think about like that.
But looking into those wide baby blues is even worse. Mascara streaks her cheeks, and my heart drops.
She’s crying. Because of me.
This is all my fault.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice a pathetic croak.
I can’t take that forlorn look on her face. I hop down from the windowsill and step toward her, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “Allie said you called and sounded upset.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Tripp.”
“She told me what happened. Porter’s a jerk for standing you up,” I say, despite knowing he did it because I threatened him.
I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t stand the thought of him taking my Quinnie anywhere. He folded like a complete pussy—didn’t even have the balls to call, just left her here waiting when he knew damn well he wasn’tcoming.
Wes wasn’t here to scare off any of the guys who were up to no good. He wasn’t here to protect her—not since he had started college and hadn’t come back to the ranch.So, it was up to me.
“I shouldn’t care. It’s stupid.”
It’s like she’s trying to talk herself into not giving a fuck what people in this small town think. And sheshouldn’tcare. She’s so much better than all of them.
“Definitely shouldn’t give a fuck about Porter. He’s a twat waffle.”
She snorts, muttering twat waffle back at me. “I just thought he actually liked me. I don’t know what I did wrong."
I exhale a hard breath through my nose. This is why I came. I knew she would blame herself even though it didn't have anything to do with her.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Quinnie. I’m sorry about tonight.”
I mean it—sort of.
I’m not sorry I scared off Porter. But I am sorry she thinks it’s because of her.
“You’re better than all of them. It’s why you have such a hard time. You’re too good for all of us.”
She rolls her eyes. “Right.”
“I mean it. You’re smart and beautiful and better than every girl in the county at trail class and showmanship. And they’re all jealous because you’re not even here practicing year-round, but you still whoop their asses every single summer.”
“Maybe I should have let them win. Maybe I would have fit in better.”
Fitting in here could be hard, especially if you had something they envied, like beauty, brains,andtalent. They were all inferior to Quinn and they knew it. But she shouldn't change for anyone.
“Nah. Keep fucking shining, Quinnie. Don’t dim your brightness for them or anyone else.”
She looks up at me, soft and vulnerable, eyes full of wonder. And I want to lean down and brush my lips over hers—to pull her close and never let go. Instead, I tilt my head toward her bedroom door. “Come on.”
“Come on where? I don’t think Pops will like that you snuck in my bedroom window.”
Maybe not. But part of me wonders if the old man isn’t as in the dark about what happens on this ranch as he pretends to be. Still, I might be pressing my luck waltzing down the stairs like this is all innocent, even if it is—mostly.
