Page 2

I’m tired of being mature.

“Maybe I should leave,” I say.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because then he wins.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“Everything is a competition if you’re petty enough.”

I laugh.

That’s when the ballroom doors open. And every coherent thought leaves my head.

Ryder Hale walks in.

Oh God.

Lila follows my gaze. “No.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I was just looking.”

“You’ve been just looking at my brother since you were a teenager.”

“Half-brother.”

“Still my brother.”

Ryder hasn’t lived in Devil’s Peak in eighteen years. Apparently eighteen years have been very good to him. He’s taller than I remember. Or maybe just broader.

Black T-shirt stretched across his chest. Dark jeans. Motorcycle boots. Tattoos cover both forearms. His dark hair is a little too long, and there’s scruff along a jaw that has absolutely no business looking that good.

He doesn’t look like a man who came home for his father’s funeral.

He looks like trouble walked into Devil’s Peak and forgot to apologize.

Then he smiles at something Wyatt says.

That crooked, arrogant smile.

My stomach drops.

“Oh no,” Lila says.

“What?”

“You still have the crush.”

“I do not.”

“You’re staring.”