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“How do you know?”

“She’s too busy hating all guys to see that the right one, or at least a good one, may be right in front of her. And trust me, every time I think there’s a shot, she throws that f-word right in my face.”

Elodie shrugs. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but the only way she might change her mind is if you prove you’re different. And the perfect way to do that would be to take her to prom. Give her a night she won’t forget. Make her see that you could be the guy she needs.”

“I don’t know…”

“God, you two are infuriating.” Releasing my arm, she stops me in my tracks. “Do you want to always wonder what could have happened if you had just found the courage to put yourself out there?”

“What if she says no?” I counter, voicing my biggest fear in all of this. Because even if I gather the courage to cross that line, it doesn’t mean Lennon will cross it with me. “And what if it makes things awkward between us?”

Elodie plants her hands on her hips. “But what if she says yes?”

“I…”

The bell rings, warning that we have one minute to get to class. Elodie and I lock eyes and then break into a run, laughing wildly as we race across campus.

But we never get to finish our conversation, and part of me wishes we had.

***

“My God, you look so handsome.” My mother stares up at me with unshed tears in her eyes, brushing something off my face. “I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but you look so much like your father.”

“I’m surprised you said that out loud.”

“Your father was a handsome man, despite his faults.” Reaching up, she straightens my tie.

“Well, at least I got something good from him.”

She brushes her fingers through the sides of my freshly cut dark hair. “You and your brother have turned out to be incredible men, Easton. You don’t need a father for that to be true.”

“That’s because we have you, Mom.” I pull her in for a hug, not wanting to see her cry anymore. But sometimes when she makes comments like that, it stirs up anger I reserve for the man who didn’t know how to step up and face his responsibilities.

And then I vow to myself, yet again, to never be like him as I breathe that anger out.

“You’re gonna make me cry more.” We stay like that for a moment until she releases me, brushing away tears that fall down her cheeks. “I still can’t believe you don’t have a date, though.”

“It’s a small town, remember? Not many girls I haven’t known since fifth grade.”

“Yes, but any girl would be lucky to go with you.”

Owen, dirty from another day of working on the ranch, comes waltzing into the house at that moment. “Ah, shit. Look at you.”

“Nice to see you too.”

He chuckles and walks over to me, looking me up and down. “You look good, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Yeah, you are. Trust me.” Pushing a hand through his thick, light brown hair, he sighs.

My mom swats his chest. “Now, now…don’t go riling him up. This is a big night for Easton.”

“At least he’s going stag. I wish I had done the same.” Brushing past me toward the kitchen, my brother retrieves a beer from the fridge, probably to take the edge off the memories slamming into him at the moment.

Owen and I have more in common than we care to admit—unresolved feelings for one of the Riley girls.

Mom raises an eyebrow at him. “No, you don’t.”