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“Don’t you dare.”

I look back at Bailey. His jaw is clenched tight as he stares me down. “Leave him alone, I mean it.”

I want to argue. Energy buzzes under my skin, desperate for release. Whatever happened between the two of them, I know it wasn’t Bailey’s fault. It can’t have been. I’ve been best friends with him for twelve years, and not once has he been violent. Out of the two of us, I’m usually the one getting into trouble—he’s the one stepping in to calm me down.

Bailey stares at me, eyes pleading, and I fold. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up then.” I put an arm around his waist and pull him away from the tattooed man. “Thanks—sorry, who are you?”

“Luke, Isla’s uncle.” He nods at me, auburn curls bouncing.

“Noah,” I reply, dragging Bailey out of the barn.

I refuse to look at Robbie as we pass him. I feel the heat of his eyes on me, and I hate it.

Robbie is absolutely not what I need right now.

ROBBIE

Noah doesn’t look at me as he walks past, but I can’t stop staring at him. He’s looking good—really good. His black curls have been cropped on the sides, with his fringe brushing his neatly trimmed eyebrows. He still has no facial hair, but his face is all sharp angles now, more defined and mature. Probably the only sign he’s even aged. He could easily pass for early twenties, the lucky fuck. And that jawline …

I should really stop looking at him.

Richard smacks me on the bicep with the back of his hand. “Dude.”

“What?” I ask innocently, dragging my eyes away from Noah to look at his brother.

“Don’t what me. Stay away. I don’t want him stressed out while he’s here.”

I frown at him, confused. “Why would I stress him out?”

“Come on …” He raises his eyebrows.

“What?” I play innocent, though my mind instantly goes back to how I left things with Noah the last time I saw him, and guilt wraps around me.

There’s no way Rich could know what I did. He would have said something a long time ago.

“Never mind, it’s been years. I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same way. Just don’t go there—Noah deserves better than to be thrown away after a quick fuck.” Richard’s face is stern.

My face heats at the insinuation. That hadn’t even come close to crossing my mind, and I’m pissed off that he thinks it would. “I wasn’t—I wouldn’t do that.”

Okay, maybe I can see why he would think that. I don’t have the best track record with dating, and I’ve definitely had my fair share of hookups. But I was just looking—there’s nothing wrong with looking.

Something clicks in my mind. “Wait, what way did he feel?”

Richard’s eyes widen ever so slightly, and he looks over his shoulder. “Uh, I think Isla’s calling me, gotta go.”

He makes a quick getaway, and I turn my attention back to Noah. He’s almost out of sight, walking down the long track with his arm around Bailey, when he turns to look over his shoulder. I can’t see his face properly, but I feel his eyes on me.

After the whole let’s punch our guest in the face situation, Theo is now staying with me instead of with his grandparents at the farm. I let him get away with being his extra-grumpy self for the evening and fed him takeaway to ensure he actually ate something before bed.

I want to know why he hit Bailey, but knowing Theo, I’m sure he’ll stay silent. Isla already tried to grill him, and he refused to give us anything.

He’s been like this ever since he moved back from England twelve years ago, closed off and rough around the edges. In the end, it was Bailey who told Isla that Theo had moved to his school when he was sixteen.

I met Bailey a couple of times when I went with Richard to visit his family back in our uni days. I don’t think I ever really spoke to him. I just knew him as Noah’s best friend, and that they were constantly attached at the hip—Richard’s words, not mine. He was a sweet kid, so I have no clue what he could have done to piss Theo off so much that he’d want to hit him. I don’t think Theo’s ever hit another person in his life.

I stand up from the sofa and clear away the takeaway mess. With Theo upstairs, the house falls silent. Normally, I’d keep the TV on all night to drown that silence out, but tonight I have something I need to do that requires concentration.

In my da’s old study, I switch on the computer. I’ve barely changed a thing in the past eighteen years since he passed, other than updating the old desktop he used to have. I couldn’t quite bring myself to get rid of it completely, so the boxy monitor sits in the corner of the room, gathering dust.