Page 108 of The Summer We Lie

"I saw the way you two looked at each other on FaceTime," she says softly. "So what happened? Are you two fighting about something?"

"No," I whisper, the words painful to say out loud. "Harper found out. She hates me now, and I'm pretty sure he regrets everything."

"Oh, honey," she says, rubbing my hair. "Just give her some time to deal with it. I'm sure she doesn't hate you."

I shake my head, fresh tears spilling. "You didn't see her face, Mom. She looked at me like I was a stranger. Like I'd betrayed her in the worst way possible."

"And maybe that's how she feels right now," Mom says gently. "But you two have been friends forever. That kind of friendship doesn't just disappear overnight."

"This might be the thing that does it," I whisper. "I slept with her dad. Her dad, Mom."

She sighs. "I know it's complicated, but Harper loves you. When the shock wears off..."

"There's no coming back from this," I cut her off. "And Dom... he said he should have never let it happen. Like it was a mistake. Like I was a mistake."

Mom pulls me closer. "People say things they don't mean when they're upset. Give it time."

I don't tell her that time won't fix this. That I've lost my best friend and the man I was falling for in one terrible moment. Instead, I close my eyes and let her comfort me, knowing that tomorrow won't be any better, but at least I'm home.

Chapter Forty-Six

Dominic

Four days. Four days since my entire world imploded.

I take another swig from the bottle, letting the whiskey burn down my throat. It's not helping. Nothing is helping. I haven't slept more than two hours at a stretch since she left.

Since they both left.

The house feels hollow now. Too big, too empty, too silent. The sketches Skye left behind still hang in my office—I couldn't bring myself to take them down. Except for one. The one she left on her bed with that single word that gutted me.

Cherry.

Her safe word. The final boundary. The ultimate stop. The reminder that what we had wasn't real, couldn't last, was doomed from the start.

I should have known better. I'm the adult here—the one with the experience, the one who should have maintained control. Instead, I let myself fall for a college girl half my age. My daughter's best friend.

Harper still isn't speaking to me. At least she's safe at Logan's, according to his check-in calls. He won't tell me much more than that—just that she needs time. Time to what? Forgive me? Forget that her father fell in love with her best friend?

Love.

The word sits heavy in my mind, impossible to ignore any longer. That's what this is. That's what hurts so goddamn much. Somewhere between that first night and now, I fell in love with Skye Caldwell. And now she's gone.

She even wired back all the money I sent her. Every penny except what she'd already spent. Like she was erasing any trace of our connection, severing the final thread between us.

My phone pings, illuminating the darkness of my bedroom. I grab it from the nightstand, hoping against hope it's Harper or Skye.

It's not. It's a notification from Good Girls Gone Live.

Cherry Red is going live.

My thumb hovers over the notification. I shouldn't. This is exactly the kind of unhealthy bullshit I need to avoid if I'm ever going to move on. But the whiskey has weakened my resolve, and before I can talk myself out of it, I click the flashing icon.

She appears on my screen, and my breath catches. She's sitting on a bed I don't recognize—probably back in Pennsylvania. The short red wig frames her face, and her makeup is heavy, transforming her into someone who looks older, harder, nothing like the soft-eyed girl who sketched in my office and slept in my arms.

The black lace barely covers her, and despite everything, my body responds. I hate myself for it, but I can't look away.

"Hey boys," she says, her voice different—practiced, performative. Nothing like the breathless way she'd say my name when I touched her. "Miss me?"