Anger flares inside me. “Is loving me a betrayal?”

  He clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides. “The betrayal was not telling him. Not being honest with the one person who’s always been loyal to me. So, I panicked, and I left when he asked. I was mean to you. I made you hate me.” The memory of him calling me a gremlin stings like a fresh slap. I swallow my tears back. “But it was a mistake,” he adds softly.

  “You said I was the mistake.” My voice cracks, the words barely escaping my constricted throat.

  Tristan’s reaction shocks me. He brings the heel of his hand to his temple and legit starts to cry. Tristan Montgomery, the most unshakable person I know, is crying. In my living room.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice coarse like sandpaper grating straight against my heart. “I don’t know how to show up for people. I’m a mess and that’s why your brother didn’t want me to date you, and I only proved him right.”

  He backs away. “I understand if you want nothing to do with me. If you can’t love me. I’m sorry.”

  As he turns to leave, I’m seized by panic. I can’t watch him walk away again. “Tristan,” I call out.

  He pauses, glancing back at me with so much vulnerability in his eyes that it takes my breath away. I go to him, cupping his face in my hands. His stubble prickles my palms, longer than I’ve ever seen it on his usually impeccable face.

  I search the piercing blue of his irises, seeing all the rejection, the insecurity, and the heartbreak written in them. And suddenly, I know exactly what I need to do.

  31

  TRISTAN

  I turn to go, my heart shattering into a million pieces. The weight of her disappointment, of the pain I caused, it all comes crashing down on me in this moment. I can’t take it anymore.

  My vision blurs through my tears. I’m crying like a fucking baby. But I won’t let her see me this broken.

  I stumble toward the door, my feet dragging. Each step takes me further away from her, from the only woman I’ve ever truly loved. But she doesn’t want me. Not anymore. And I must respect her choice.

  Coming here was a mistake. To think she could ever forgive me for the things I’ve done. The lies I’ve told. The hearts I’ve broken, including my own. I was a fool for believing we could make this work, that our love was strong enough to overcome the hurt and betrayal—it was all just a beautiful, terrible fantasy. One I have to let go of.

  I reach for the doorknob, my hand shaking uncontrollably. This is it. The end of the line for us. I have to walk away now before I completely fall apart. Before she sees the cracks in my facade, the brokenness inside.

  I hesitate, fighting the urge to look back at her one last time. To memorize every line and plane of her face, every golden strand of hair. But I know if I do, I’ll never be able to pull out. I’m about to open the door, ready to leave my heart behind, shattered on her doorstep, when Nina’s voice stops me. “Tristan.” My name on her lips, uttered like a plea and a prayer, stops me in my tracks, hand outstretched.

  Slowly, I turn back to face her. She walks toward me, eyes shimmering with some undefinable emotion that punches me hard in the sternum. When she reaches me, she lifts her hand and cups my cheek. Her touch is soft but sure.

  We stand there for a long moment, gazing at each other in loaded silence. I search her expressive eyes, trying to decipher what she’s thinking. What this means.

  Finally, she speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what kind of fucked up family you had growing up or why they didn’t love you like you deserve.”

  The scars of old wounds throb dully at her words. But she continues, her tone fierce now.

  “Because you’re worthy of being loved, Tristan.” Her thumb grazes over the stubble shadowing my jaw, leaving tingles in its wake. “And when people love you, they don’t just leave at the first bump in the road or after a fight.”

  Hope flares in my chest, dangerous and bright. I study her face intently, hardly daring to believe what I’m hearing. “What are you saying, Nina?” My voice comes out rough, laced with a vulnerability I rarely show.

  Her lips quirk into the hint of a smile. “I’m saying that you made me fall in love with you, dumbass.” Her words almost knock me off my feet. I blink rapidly, stunned. “And that’s not just going to go away because you behaved like a jerk. And yes, we will fight.”

  “We will?” I ask faintly, struggling to process this sudden shift. Moments ago, I was drowning in despair, convinced I’d lost her for good. Now she’s telling me she loves me? That there will be fights?

  “Yes, we will. And we’ll get petty, and frustrating, and unbearable at times.” Amusement dances in her emerald eyes. “I’ll give you the silent treatment for days just for not putting laundry in the hamper.”

  A surprised laugh escapes me. Her words paint a picture of a shared life, a future, and warmth spreads through my chest at the thought, chasing away the despair.

  I let myself smile tentatively. “I’m afraid the opposite will be true. You’re way messier than I am.” She’s a hurricane of chaos everywhere but at work.

  “But we don’t leave,” she says firmly, still caressing my cheek. “When you love someone, you don’t leave.” Her gaze bores into mine, seeking assurance. “Promise me now that you won’t leave again.”

  Emotion clogs my throat. I grasp her hand and pull her into a fierce embrace, burying my face in her blonde waves. Her scent envelops me, soothing and arousing at once. “I promise,” I rasp.

  Drawing back slightly, I cup her cheeks, thumbs stroking her soft skin. “Do you promise the same?” I hardly recognize my voice, tremulous and unsure.

  She meets my eyes steadily. “Yes, Tristan. I promise the same.” She smiles now. “You and me? We’re endgame.”

  Relief crashes over me, followed by a swell of love and longing so intense it consumes me whole. I crush my mouth to hers, pouring everything I feel into the kiss. Nina responds with matching fervor, her lips parting under mine.

  As I rediscover the feel of her mouth, I feel like I’ve finally come home. Here, with her in my arms, the universe clicks into place. The jagged pieces of my heart start to mend.

  Her mouth crashes into mine again and again, each touch repairing the voids and cracks her absence had left in me. Nina’s fingers tangle in my hair as I pull her body flush against me, desperate to eliminate any remaining space between us. The kiss deepens, igniting a fire within me that spreads unchecked through my veins. I pour every ounce of longing and desire I’ve felt these past few days into this kiss, savoring the softness of her lips and the intoxicating taste of her.

  My hands roam her curves, relishing the way they fit perfectly in my grasp. Nina lets out a soft moan against my mouth and it’s nearly my undoing. I grip her hips, thumbs brushing the exposed sliver of skin where her sweater rides up. She arches into my touch, our bodies melding together as if we were made for each other.

  I trail kisses along her jawline and down the column of her neck, drunk on the scent of her—sugar and something uniquely Nina. She tilts her head back, hands fisting in my shirt. I nip at her collarbone and she gasps. That sound shoots straight to my core. I need to hear it again. And again.

  My fingers find the hem of her sweater and start inching it upward, revealing more of her smooth skin that I ache to map with my hands and mouth. Nina’s fingers are just as eager, hastily working the buttons of my shirt. We’re seconds away from ripping each other’s clothes off right here in her living room when the doorbell rings.

  I open the door since I’m the closest one. A pizza delivery guy with three larges in his hands waits on the other side, I hand him a hundred-dollar bill and tell him to keep the change.

  I drop the pizzas on Nina’s counter and I’m about to kiss her again when she blocks me.

  “Wait.” Nina pulls back slightly. “My roommates. They’re right in the other room.”

  I groan, resting my forehead against hers as I close my eyes and fight to keep under check the beast within me that wants to come out and devour her. Nina’s right. As much as I want to lay her down on the couch and worship every inch of her gorgeous body, we can’t. Not here.

  “We could go back to my place…” I suggest halfheartedly, already knowing the answer.

  Nina raises an eyebrow. “With Dylan there? I know he’s okay with us dating now, but I don’t think he’s quite at the ‘my best friend banging my little sister in the next room’ level of chill yet.”

  I chuckle. She has a point. “You’re right.”

  “He needs to move out of your place.”

  “Agreed. But that’s a future solution. I need a now solution.”

  She worries her lower lip in that adorable way of hers. “I don’t know.” Her eyes stray down the hall leading to her bedroom. “The walls in this house are super thin…”

  I move closer, whispering softly against the curve of her ear. “Then I’ll have to gag you. Because there’s no way in hell I’m waiting another minute to make love to you.”

  Her eyes sparkle at my words. In one smooth motion, I scoop Nina up into my arms. She lets out a surprised gasp, legs automatically wrapping around my waist. Nina shivers against my chest and captures my mouth in a searing kiss. Grinning, I carry her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.

  We collapse onto her bed in a heap of laughter. But as I stare down at her, my smile fades, replaced by a tidal wave of emotion.

  “I love you.” I tenderly brush a golden strand from her face.

  She traces the contours of my face with her fingertips. “I love you too.”

  When I still don’t move, she arches into me. “Tristan, please.”

  I kiss her again, slow and deep, savoring each precious second. Each untold promise I can read in her eyes. It’s a kiss that tastes of a future together. Of shared moments, big and small. The beginning of a life together made of cold winter days passed snuggling by the fire. Of hurried breakfasts before work where a goodbye kiss is savored more than coffee. And of endless nights spent in each other’s arms after a long day apart. I can see us brushing our teeth side by side in the bathroom, fighting for supremacy over the sink. And picture countless weekend mornings, where the only plan is to have no plans at all.

  A lifetime of love and laughter, of happiness. Where we show up for each other. Every day.

  EPILOGUE

  NINA

  Six months later

  I toss my toiletries unceremoniously into a cardboard box, glancing over at Rowena hunched miserably over the toilet. The pungent smell of vomit mingles with the floral scent of air freshener.

  I open the window to let in a bit of fresh air and turn to Hunter, who’s helping us pack. “Are you sure you’ll be fine living with my gross brother?” I ask her.

  She frowns, her dark brows knitting together as she keeps folding towels perched on the bathtub. “What’s gross about him?”

  “He’s a man,” I state matter-of-factly.

  Hunter snorts. “You’re moving in with an equally gross man and you don’t seem too chafed.”

  A sly grin spreads across my face. “No, but contrary to you, I’ll be getting a lot of sex out of the new arrangement.”

  Hunter’s cheeks flush scarlet, and she quickly looks away, busying herself with refolding the same towel. That’s an interesting reaction, I wonder where her mind just went.

  Shaking her head, Hunter changes the subject. “Anyway, you should worry about Pukerella over there who’s agreed to marry a perfect stranger and move in with him.”

  Rowena wipes her mouth on the back of her hand, her face pale and glistening with sweat. Looking up, she pushes a strand of chestnut hair from her forehead with a slight tremor.

  “I lost my job, I’m pregnant with my douchebag ex’s baby, and I can’t make rent anymore. I don’t have a choice,” she says wearily. “But it’s strictly a business arrangement with this guy. Nothing more.”

  I exchange a worried glance with Hunter. Marrying a total stranger, even if it’s just on paper, seems like an enormously bad idea. Especially while pregnant and vulnerable.

  “Are you sure about this, Winnie?” I ask gently. “What if he turns out to be a creep? Or worse?”

  Rowena shrugs and leans back over the toilet bowl as another wave of nausea hits. Her voice is muffled as she replies, “He comes… highly recommended. It’ll be fine.”

  I’m not convinced, but arguing with her now while she’s puking her guts out seems pointless. I just hope this marriage of convenience doesn’t turn into a nightmare for my friend. She’s been through enough already. But the least I could do is let her know she has a choice if she wants a different road.

  I crouch down on the cold tile floor beside Rowena, gently massaging her lower back as she hugs the toilet bowl. “Hey, if you want to blow off this whole fake marriage thing, just say the word. Hunter and I are here for you, no matter what.”

  Rowena lifts her head, grimacing, her glasses slightly askew. “Thanks, Neens. I appreciate you guys being here for me.” She takes a shaky breath. “I don’t know what I’d do without—” Her words are cut off by another violent heave. She accidentally knocks over the towel rack that goes down with a crash.

  I straighten it and keep rubbing her back, exchanging a concerned look with Hunter over Rowena’s head. Just then, Tristan and Dylan burst into the bathroom, their faces etched with worry.

  “Everything okay in here?” Dylan asks, his brow furrowed.

  Rowena waves them off. “Just morning sickness, give a puking lady her privacy, please?”

  I stand up, shooing everyone away.

  Hunter grabs one of the boxes scattered on the floor. Dylan offers to take it from her. In response, she drops it, sending a flurry of packing peanuts scattering across the tiles. Her face turns beet red as she scrambles to clean up the mess, pointedly avoiding Dylan’s gaze. I narrow my eyes, a sneaking suspicion forming in my mind. Could Hunter have a crush on my brother?

  Before I can elaborate, Tristan is at my side, his strong arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close as we exit the bathroom. The heat of his body seeps through my thin T-shirt, and I can’t help but melt into his embrace. Our eyes meet, and he smirks, flicking my nose. “In a little while it could be you puking your guts out with a mini-me inside you.”

  “Yeah, right,” I scoff. “After seeing what pregnancy does to a woman, I’ve bought a jumbo pack of condoms.”

  At the mention of condoms, Dylan clears his throat awkwardly. I catch him averting his eyes, still not quite comfortable seeing his best friend and little sister all over each other.

  Hunter crashes out of the bathroom next, colliding with Dylan and turning even more beetroot red. Something is definitely going on there.

  But to spare her the awkwardness, I disentangle myself from Tristan and clap my hands. “Okay, I think we could all use a break.”

  We spread in the living room, Tristan’s arm slipping easily over my shoulders as Hunter bustles around the kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove. Rowena joins us minutes later, sagging on the floor and still looking ashen.

  As the kettle whistles, Hunter emerges from the kitchen carrying two steaming mugs. “Ginger tea for Winnie,” she says gently, handing my pale-faced friend a cup. “Should help with the nausea.”

  “Thanks,” Rowena murmurs, mustering a weak smile. She cradles the mug in her hands but doesn’t drink, probably wanting to be sure she can handle the liquids without prompting more nausea.

  I help Hunt carry the rest of the mugs—regular tea for us. And we all settle once again.

  “So,” Tristan says, his blue eyes sparkling as he looks at me. “Who’s most excited about the new roommate situation?” He grins like a fool.

  I elbow him playfully. “You’re such a dork.”

  Dylan gives a small cough. “It’ll be nice to have a house office.” He’s taking over Rowena’s room as well as mine, paying two-thirds of the rent here so nothing will change for Hunter. “And of course living with a woman will be better than having to deal with your pre-dawn blender smoothie rituals.” He winks at Hunter.

  And my friend promptly chokes on her tea, flushing scarlet. Oh yeah, she definitely has it bad for my brother. Poor thing. How did I never notice? Maybe the fact that they’re going to live together has put her on edge, and she’s less able to hide it.

  I glance at Rowena, who is staring listlessly into her mug, complexion ashen. A lump lodges in my throat. I wish I could do more for her. Just then, her phone buzzes. She checks the screen and sighs.

  “It’s him,” she says flatly. “Asking if I need help with the move. He offered to send ‘his people’ over.”

  “Ooh, ‘his people,’” Dylan echoes with exaggerated awe. “Exactly how loaded is this guy, huh?”

  “Very,” Rowena replies, tight-lipped.

  I scoot closer and put an arm around her thin shoulders. “Hey, at least he’s nice. He’s offering to help.”

  “He’d be nicer if he offered to help in person,” Hunter tuts.

  I stare daggers at her, can’t she see Rowena is barely keeping it together?

  “He must be busy.” Turning again to my pregnant friend, I add, “You know we’re here for you, right? No matter what you decide. Marriage, baby, all of it—if you change your mind at any point, we’ll support you.”

  Rowena’s eyes fill with tears. She sets down her mug and hugs me fiercely.

  I stroke her silky hair, wishing I could take some of her pain away and help her carry it.

  I try to lighten the mood with a joke. “Hey, and if the guy is so loaded, you should tell him to have ‘his people’ over and pack my stuff too.”

  Rowena’s chest starts shaking with laughter instead of sobs. “I’m sorry,” she says, pulling back. “Pregnancy hormones have turned me into a mess. I’ll be fine, really. The guy works so much I’ll barely see him, and there are worse destinies than having a penthouse all to myself.”