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She nods, but there’s water in her eyes. I hate that I’ve hurt her. I hate the man I’m becoming.

She sucks in air before saying sweetly, “Me too.”

Her hand moves from the strap of her purse to the door handle. She wears bumblebee scrubs, strands of brown hair falling from her bun. She’s pretty, beautiful, even.

But she’s not her.

Why doesn’t she do to my heart what Faye does without even trying?

I hate that I compare the woman I’m supposed to love to the woman my brother loves.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Laura pauses in the open door of my truck. “I really hope you find what you’re looking for, Tate. You’re a good man.” Her eyes slide to the vet clinic where she works reception before coming back to me. “You deserve everything, and I want everything for you. I’m sorry that wasn’t me.”

“Laura—”

“I’ve gotta get to work.” She doesn’t let me respond before she closes the door, walking into the clinic without looking back even once.

I’m considering chasing her, even though I know it would be wrong. I’m about to swing my truck into a parking space when my phone chimes. I flip it open to a text from Holt.

Holt:

Something is wrong with Faye. She won’t return my texts or calls.

Another text comes in.

Check on her for me, Tate…please.

Thoughts of Laura fade as worry for Faye flares. I throw my truck in drive and head for the house across from my childhood home where the girl I fell in love with at first sight lives.

I can still see the way she crawled from the back seat of the PT Cruiser to look around her new neighborhood with sad, honey-colored eyes. I’d watched her arrive from my bedroom window; struck by a need I’ve never felt to talk to a girl. To learn her name and all the favorites she’s collected throughout her life.

Then she went into the house, clutching a purple daisy-printed blanket and thick book to her chest.

I’d ditched my shirt and raced to the garage for the mower. Dad had been on me about the overgrown lawn, anyway. Maybe I’d get the chance to talk to her.

I’d been working my way up to doing just that when she appeared from the house, nabbing her bike from the porch where her dad left it when he pulled it from the U-Haul.

Her eyes met mine. Mine met hers. I saw my future collide with my reality in that moment—and then Holt shattered it all.

I stood, watching the girl who stole my breath, heart, and soul in seconds fall in love with my younger brother. And I made peace with it. For him. For her.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for the last five years.

Yet here I am, racing to check on a girl who isn’t mine. A girl I’ve loved in secret. A girl who belongs to my brother.

I put my truck in park and jog up her walk, skipping the steps of her porch to rap my knuckles on her door just as it opens, and she appears. She looks awful.

“Faye.” I dip my head to peer closer into puffy, red-rimmed eyes she tries to hide. “What’s going on?”

“I’m—it’s nothing. I’m just—I’m sick.” That’s when I note she’s got her purse slung over one shoulder, arms crossed protectively over her chest.

The sun is shining and it’s warm out, but she’s wearing an oversized hoodie and baggy shorts. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail and there are dark circles smudging the red of her eyes.

I don’t think she’s been sleeping.

“Are you going into Foster’s Gear?” I ask.