He wanted the part of me I had almost wasted on Tristan.
And I could not understand why giving it to the wrong man had felt romantic, but giving it to the right one felt like standing on the edge of a cliff with no guarantee there was water below.
Maybe because Tristan never had the power to ruin me completely.
He could humiliate me. He could disappoint me. He could make me feel chosen and unchosen in the same breath. But some part of me had always known I loved the possibility of him more than the truth.
Drew was truth.
Messy, hot, infuriating truth.
Drew could break my heart because he had already found it.
I just hadn’t admitted it yet.
The Suburban turned off the highway and into the wide, manicured sprawl of my hometown. Big houses behind stone walls. Gated communities dressed in Christmas lights. Wreaths on black doors. Fountains bubbling in circular drives. Texas wealth was different from Miami wealth.
Miami money gleamed.
Texas money announced itself from the road.
Drew looked out the window, amused. “Subtle.”
“Don’t start.”
“Baby, your neighborhood has more columns than a courthouse.”
“Your father has a dock and wine with a retirement plan.”
“Fair.”
Wade chuckled from the front seat.
I wanted to crawl into the leather.
Drew stretched an arm along the back of the seat, fingers brushing my shoulder but not pulling me in. Giving me the choice.
Always giving me the choice.
I leaned into him.
Just a little.
His arm settled around me instantly.
He bent and pressed his mouth to my hair.
“You’re okay,” he murmured.
“I know.”
“You’re not about to be fed to a debutante firing squad alone.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be charming.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
