Page 162

"No."

"Why not?"

I gave him a look. "Have you met Mikayla?"

"Yeah. She's smart. Gorgeous. Terrifying. I like her."

"Everybody likes her."

"Especially you."

I didn't respond.

He sat back and his jaw dropped.

"What?"

"You're in love with her."

I shook my head. “Dylan."

"You are."

"Keep your voice down."

"Holy. Shit." His eyes widened. “You’re really in love with her.”

"Say that one more time and I'm putting you through a wall."

He ignored me. Naturally. "Does she know?"

A huff of laughter came out. "She thinks I'm a guy who doesn't do serious relationships."

"To be fair, that's been your entire brand."

"Thanks."

"I'm just saying."

I dragged a hand down my face. The truth was, I wanted to tell him. If there was anyone in the world I could've told, it was Dylan.

But saying it out loud would make it real. And if it was real, I could lose it. I'd spent my whole life making sure nobody expected too much from me.

I was the fun brother. The charming one. The guy who could make anyone laugh and talk his way out of just about anything.

Nobody expected me to fall in love. Hell, I'd never expected it from myself. And now I stood in my childhood bedroom, wearing a suit that cost more than my first truck, wondering if a woman who organized her underwear drawer by color was about to walk out of my life.

"I don't know what I am." It was a lie. We both knew it. Dylan didn't call me on it.

Instead, he stood and clapped me on the shoulder. "Then figure it out."

"Wow. Profound. You should put that on a bumper sticker."

He grinned. "Maybe I will."

He headed for the door, then stopped. "Hey, Damon?"

"Yeah?"