I wave at Smithy for my check, but before I even get my credit card out, my phone is flashing with a notification.
GoodHands69: Maybe another time.“Still sad?” Smithy asks, dragging my attention away from those three words that feel way too much like a rejection.
I shrug. “I guess. Guys suck.”
“Who made you sad?” Dean asks, taking the stool next to me. “Point me in his direction so I can kick his ass.”
I almost laugh at the image, then immediately sober. Dean probably would kick Kace’s ass—not for touching me or talking to me, but for leading me on. “Why do guys only treat girls good until the girl’s on the hook? Do we suddenly become toxic once we’re interested?”
Smithy props his elbows on the bar and leans forward, meeting my eyes. “Good guys,” he says, “don’t play games.”
Dean nods. “Fuck anyone who doesn’t know what he’s getting with you, Stellabean.”
My eyes prick with tears—maybe because my brother hasn’t used that nickname in years, or maybe because it feels good to know both Smith and Dean mean what they say, or maybe just because Kace is one of the best guys I know, and if even he can’t treat me right, why the hell am I even trying? I grab my drink and drain it. “Fuck him.”
But then my phone buzzes, and I prove to myself and anyone paying attention that I don’t mean that.
GoodHands69: It’s not that I’m not interested. The timing’s just not right. If it feels like I’m stringing you on and you want to kick me to the curb, I wouldn’t blame you.I stare at my phone for a long time, then shake my head.
ItsyBitsy123: I guess I’m a glutton for punishment, because I’m not going anywhere.“Who are you texting?” Dean asks, grabbing for my phone. “Is that the jerk who’s practically making my sister cry into her vodka?”
I quickly lock the screen and shove my phone into my purse. “Nope. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
He grunts. “You’re not fine at all, but I won’t push. I get it. Sometimes we hang on to people even when they keep knocking us down. Love’s a bitch.”
I frown. “Who’s knocking you down? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”
He waves a hand as if to say, likewise. “We all have our secrets, baby sister. But I’ll be here if you ever need to talk about yours.”
“Same.” I hesitate, not wanting to push, but . . . “Do you want to talk about yours?”
Dean takes a long, slow pull from his beer then shakes his head. “Nah. I’m good.”
“The offer stands.” I slide off the stool and kiss his cheek. “Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.” I turn to the bar. “Bye, Smithy!”
Then I head out to my car and sit in the driver’s seat, staring at my phone.
Be careful with me, I type, because I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen and I really want this to work. Then I hold down the backspace key, put my phone away, and drive home.Chapter FifteenKaceBetween Dean, Smithy, Stella, and me, we managed to get the main room and loft of the pool house painted before lunch, and now Hope’s roped Stella into making slime with her.
“Squeeeeeeeze,” Stella says, grinning. She watches my daughter empty the bottle of glitter glue into the bowl where they’re mixing their most recent creation. This is their third batch after making fluffy slime and unicorn slime, neither of which I’d heard of before. Stella has a smudge of baking soda on her nose and bits of dried glue all over her hands. Surprisingly, she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Hurry! Get the shaving cream!” Hope says, practically bouncing in her chair.
Stella grabs the can of shaving cream and squirts it on top of the glue. “Tell me when.”
“When! When!” Hope squeals.
Stella grabs a Popsicle stick and hands it to Hope. “You know the drill.”
Hope uses all the strength in her tiny arms to stir the thick concoction. She groans and grunts, making a show of how hard it is, but my girl’s on cloud nine. And Stella is . . . fuck, she’s having a good time too, and I can’t quite reconcile this version of her with the party girl who’d jump from one guy to the next, who’d lie and cheat to get her way to a promotion at work. I hadn’t ever seen them together one on one before today. Usually, the only time Hope gets with Stella is when she’s doing a sleepover at Brinley’s or all our friends meet up for a cookout.
I knew my daughter loved her, but I never really understood why. Now it’s obvious. Stella’s really good with kids. Or, at least, really good with my kid, and that makes this thing between us way more fucking complicated. I can’t let Hope know we’re involved, or she might get attached to the idea of Stella being a fixture in our lives. Then, when Stella drops me for the next guy, which I figure will happen—it’s just a matter of time—Hope will be crushed.