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Tate’s eyes find mine, but his expression is hard to read. There’s something troubled there, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead he forces a smile and puts his bags down on the top of the dresser.

“Let’s eat, shall we? It’s been a long day.”

He’s not wrong about that. My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that besides a few snacks that Steph had in her car, I really haven’t eaten anything today. The food smells good, and Tate and Callan start unloading stuff they got at the diner across the street.

They got a little bit of everything for us all to share, so I load up on fried potatoes and French toast, as well as chicken tenders and a cup of potato soup. It’s one of the weirdest meals I’ve ever had, but I settle on one end of the bed—not the one Ares and I had sex on—and dedicate my attention to eating, hoping that no one will bring anything up.

“So, what happened?” Callan asks, cutting into my thoughts.

Great.

“What are you talking about?” Ares asks, saving me from having to reply.

“We know you two have history,” Tate answers. “And we know it’s not good. Even if we didn’t know that before, it would be pretty clear from how frosty the two of you are together. But there’s clearly something more to it than you’ve told us.” His eyes stray to the rumpled bed and then to me.

I shrug a shoulder. “You should ask Ares,” I mutter.

Ares gives me a hard look. “You really want to rehash the past right now?”

I shrug again, my chest tight. “I don’t know what you’ve told them. I wouldn’t want to contradict whatever story you’re running with these days.”

His eyes narrow. “I told them the truth.”

“But not the whole story,” Tate adds. “And after spending all this time together, I think maybe we should know.”

Ares gives him a look now, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the fact that both of them have slept with me. If he is, he doesn’t say so. Instead he shoves some chicken into his mouth and chews angrily. When he swallows, he starts talking, his gaze locked on the food in front of him.

“You know the gist. Both of us come from prominent families in Hope Falls. We’ve been there for generations, and you can’t go a mile without finding a business or something that one of our families has their fingers in. And we all hate each other.”

“Why?” Callan wants to know.

“There’s a rivalry. It goes back as far as anyone can remember. That’s just how it is.”

“But you two didn’t care about that?” Tate asks, glancing between us.

I watch Ares, but he doesn’t look up. “For a little while maybe. For a while things were different between me and Brynn. Or at least, I thought so.” There’s something soft to his voice for all of a second, before it goes hard and angry again. “But she’s just as bad as the rest of her family. Worse, actually because at least they don’t make any secret of the fact that they hate us. Brynn pretended to care about me and then used me to destroy my entire family.”

Tate frowns. “You said that before. That she fucked you over and it bit your family in the ass. What does that mean exactly?”

“There was a scandal about my dad, and it nearly ruined us. Tax evasion. All the goodwill, all the work we’d put into our businesses and everything, it was almost for nothing. It was all over the news, and my dad barely avoided being prosecuted because of her.”

My jaw clenches so hard my teeth creak as Ares talks. He sounds cold and distant, and I hate it. I remember when the scandal broke about his dad’s tax evasion, and I remember being surprised that it had all come out the way it did. Ares was convinced it was me who had done it, and nothing I said could convince him otherwise. He wouldn’t listen to me, and I didn’t understand what had happened and why he was so sure that I would betray him like that. It ruined everything between us, and nothing has been the same since then.

Tate and Callan look at me, like they’re waiting to hear my side of the story. But I’m tired of telling it. I tried to tell Ares back then, and he wouldn’t even hear me out. Why would his friends care what I have to say? I let my voice go just as cold when I speak.

“He was so quick to believe it was me who did it, which proved everything I needed it to. He said he cared about me, but if you care about someone, then you trust them. Or, at the very least, you listen to them. But I didn’t get any of that.”

“Because there was nothing you could say to justify it,” Ares snaps.

“Fine,” I reply. I push my food away from me and get up, crossing to the other side of the room to look out the window. It’s dark, and the window is foggy from the cold outside. My hands shake a little, and I curl them into fists, trying to keep the pain out of my eyes.

I feel out of control, like I’m spiraling a little bit, and I take a few deep breaths, trying to count and keep them even. I tap my fingers on one leg and then the other, balancing myself out and trying to take comfort in that.

It barely helps.

I can feel eyes on me, and when I glance over, it’s Callan, watching me from his spot in one of the arm chairs.

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