His steps echo behind mine as I lead the way to the kitchen. I set the flowers on the island before returning my attention to my friend.
Dean hands the balloons to Hope, who accepts them with jaw-gaping awe. “Thank you!”
“I am sorry,” Dean says softly when we’re finally eye to eye. “I handled everything terribly, and I wouldn’t blame you for hating me forever, but I hope you’ll forgive me instead.” His jaw tightens as he tilts his face up to the ceiling. “If she’d been mine, I’d certainly take issue with you sleeping with her after we broke up.”
I shake my head and try to figure out where to start. “Three things. First, you did handle it terribly. You should’ve been upfront with me.” I sigh. “But second, I feel pretty bad for your brokenhearted ass, so I’m not going to make you grovel too much.”
“Thanks,” he mutters. “I don’t deserve that.”
“How are you holding up?”
He shrugs. “I don’t feel like I should complain to you about how your ex broke my heart, so maybe we should just skip that part?”
“I’m sorry. She . . .” I shake my head. “She’s not as perfect as I always thought she was.”
“I could’ve told you that a long time ago,” he says, looking at his shoes, “but I never wanted her because I thought she was perfect.” He rolls his shoulders back and lifts his head. “And the third thing?” he asks, looking like he’s bracing himself for the swing of my fist.
“Third, I’m in love with your sister, and I want you to help me get her back.”
His eyes go wide. “You’re not gonna hurt her again?”
I swallow. “I never meant to hurt her the first time, but I was an idiot and didn’t realize she was the one I was talking to online, and . . .” The rest of his words sink in. “You already knew? How? Did Stella say something?” Did she tell you how I can fix this? Do you think I have a chance?
“Yeah, I knew. A couple of weeks ago, she found out your sister had swapped her picture on Random with that pic of Jessica Rabbit, realized you hadn’t known who you were talking to all that time, and completely flipped out. She cried so much she about flooded my living room.” He punches me in the shoulder. Hard. “Bastard.”
I rub the throbbing ache, open my mouth to defend myself, then snap it shut again. “You . . . knew all this time? And you haven’t kicked my ass yet?”
His mouth hitches into a crooked grin. “I wanted to, but Stella swore me to secrecy.” He opens the fridge and pulls out a beer, pops off the cap, and takes a long pull. “And anyway, it’s not like I had a leg to stand on, considering what I had going on with Amy.”
Shit. I blow out a breath. “How much do you know?”
“Just that she told you some secret online, and you didn’t want anything to do with the online version of her after you found out.”
It’s not exactly that simple. I loved so many things about Itsy, but since I didn’t know she was Stella when she told me that secret, since I thought I needed to choose between her and Stella, it was easy to walk away. It wouldn’t be honest to pretend that secret wouldn’t scare me off a stranger. But Stella’s not a stranger. She’s the woman I love, and her secrets aren’t deal breakers. They’re part of who she is.
“And, listen, I don’t really understand how you two got yourself in such a mess to begin with, but I can’t stand seeing my baby sister this sad. Now that you know she’s Itsy, can you please just . . . fix it?”
I swallow. “I want to.”
“When she talks about this secret—whatever it is—do you know what she’s referring to?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice rough.
“You said it was a deal breaker. Is it? Because I can’t help you if you’re going to put her through that again.”
“It’s not. Maybe it would be with someone else, but it gave me an excuse to choose Stella.” I shake my head. “I still don’t understand what happened. Abbi changed Stella’s profile pic?”
“Yeah, so when you swiped on Jessica Rabbit, Stella thought you’d swiped on her normal profile picture and assumed you knew who you were talking to. It wasn’t until Abbi fessed up that she realized she was the ‘other woman’ you’d mentioned. And at that point, she knew how you felt about her secret. She didn’t want to tell you the truth until she could move out, and then she didn’t want to tell you because she was so embarrassed.”
“And now she’s gone and wants nothing to do with me,” I finish.