Copyright © 2023 by Q.B. Tyler

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Content Editing: Kristen Portillo—Your Editing Lounge

  Developmental Editing: Becca Mysoor

  Cover Design: Emily Witting Designs

  Interior Formatting: Stacey Blake—Champagne Book Design

  Proofreading: Logan Chisholm

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Playlist

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Preview of What Was Meant to Be

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Q.B. Tyler

  About the Author

  I Wish You Roses—Kali Uchis

  ICU (Remix)—Coco Jones & Justin Timberlake

  Late Night Talking—Harry Styles

  Greedy—Tate McRae

  That’s What I Like—Bruno Mars

  Fool For You—Alice Smith

  Feels (Ft. Pharrell Williams, Katy Perry & Big Sean)—Calvin Harris

  Dirty Thoughts—Chloe Adams

  Is This Love—Corinne Bailey Rae

  Good For You—Selena Gomez

  Pillowtalk—Zayn

  For all of you that love a hot dad

  (And more specifically a Q.B. daddy)

  There’s a spike in my heart rate the second Theo Graham enters the room. My skin prickles and although I only notice him out of my periphery as my grandparents stand in front of me going on and on about how proud they are of me for graduating college, he has all of my attention.

  Tonight is my graduation party and my parents rented out one of their favorite restaurants for the occasion and invited practically the entire town where I’m from in Pennsylvania to celebrate.

  My back straightens as I follow him with my eyes, and suddenly I’m hyper-aware of everything. How do I look? Is there anything in my teeth? Why are my hands sweaty? Has he noticed me? Fuck, Avery, do not look over there.

  Despite my instincts telling me not to react, I can’t help it; my eyes are inexplicably drawn to Theo whenever we share a room. It’s been like that for longer than I can remember. He knows how to command attention in any room. He knows how to command my attention anywhere.

  God, he looks good.

  At somewhere over six feet, Theo Graham is still very well built after his ten-year career in the NFL even though he now runs a construction company and is no stranger to getting his hands dirty. Warm chocolate brown eyes, a head full of lush dark brown wavy hair that is always styled perfectly, and a light dusting of stubble currently covering his jaw. There have been times he was clean-shaven and also times that he had a full beard so luscious it made me want to run my fingers through it.

  Dressed in a linen charcoal gray suit with a black shirt that covers most of the delicious muscles I know are hiding beneath, he’s making more than a few women’s heads turn as he makes his way through the party.

  I’m no stranger to witnessing the attention Theo gets, but it never stopped the sting of jealousy, especially now that I know what his mouth tastes like.

  I want to kiss him again.

  Two years before he retired from professional football and fresh off a divorce from the mother of his two children, Lucas and Raegan, the three of them moved into the house next door. I was only fifteen when he retired from the NFL, so I wasn’t as familiar with the football star version of Theo. I knew the guy who ran four miles every day to stay in shape and worked out in his backyard which I had a perfect view of from my bedroom window. I knew him as the guy who picked Lucas and me up when we ran from a party that the cops busted, and to this day—to my knowledge—he’d kept that fact from my parents. I knew the man who helped teach me to drive while he was teaching Lucas because we were always attached at the hip.

  Never did I think that he’d eventually be on the list of men I’d go on to kiss in my lifetime. Especially when I’d spent the majority of my ninth-grade year making out with his son. For practice, not for romance.

  I shiver thinking about that night when Theo had lifted me in the air and pressed me against the wall like I was nothing. Holding me up against him as he pressed his lips to mine. I can still recall that dizzy feeling of his hard body pressed against me and I feel my nipples harden and press against the fabric of my dark green dress at the memory.

  I chose this color not only because it’s the color of the tassels of my graduation gown but because it brings out the green in my eyes. My eyes typically dance between brown and hazel most of the time, but there are moments when the sun hits them just right when you can see flecks of green.

  A fact that Theo had brought up on more than one occasion.

  The dress is midi length, but hugs me in all the right places, highlighting my hourglass figure. I’m bronzed from my recent trip to the beach with my friends—our final girls’ trip to commemorate the end of college and this chapter of our lives—and I can feel his gaze skating across me, heating the already warmed skin. You would never know I had any melanin in me with how pale I can get during the winter months. My hair, initially styled into perfect curls before the East Coast humidity got to it, has fallen into waves. I pull it over one shoulder to showcase my neck, which, if my memory serves me correctly, is Theo’s weakness.

  I catch his eyes again and he’s closer than he was before, like he’s making his way through the crowd to get to me.

  I mean, it is my graduation party. It would be rude to not speak to the guest of honor.

  My grandparents have moved on to mingle, leaving me alone holding a glass of champagne that I want to down before Theo gets to me. I try to meet his gaze again, waiting for him to approach me, and I realize that even though he’s not looking at me I can sense that I have his attention.

  I haven’t seen Theo in almost six months. Six months ago, when we’d made out in his car and I’d sat in his lap and fucked myself with my fingers until I came with the promise of more.

  It wasn’t the first time we’d hooked up, having done so once the previous summer, but it was the furthest we’d ever gone. We hadn’t spoken about it after, almost as if we were both pretending it hadn’t happened. Me out of humiliation and hurt and him to keep it hidden from the one person he was sure it would hurt the most.

  Lucas Graham.

  My best friend.

  His son.

  Six Months Prior: Winter Break 2022

  I just got home from college this afternoon after my most stressful semester of school yet and with a hellish week of finals behind me, I came straight to the bar to meet my friends. Our high school senior class was super close. There weren’t any cliques; every friend group just intermixed making us one of the closest graduating classes our school had ever seen. Even four years later, we all go to the same bars when we’re home. The same parties. The same restaurants. The running joke is you couldn’t see a Riverside High School alumni without seeing at least three more in tow.

  Lucas isn’t home from NYU yet and his older sister, Raegan moved out and is living with her boyfriend across town, which means Theo has the house to himself tonight. Something I haven’t stopped thinking about since Lucas texted me that he won’t be home until early next week. The last time I’d been in Theo’s house when no one was home was this past summer.

  We’d made out for hours, losing track of time until we heard Lucas’ car in the driveway and I fled out the backdoor, narrowly missing getting caught.

  I’d made out with my best friend’s dad.

  And I wanted more.

  It’s several degrees below freezing and still snowing in Pennsylvania, but we’re used to winter precipitation, which means nothing short of two feet of snow is cause for bars to close early. Still, the chill outside whips through the bar and cools the air every time the door opens and shuts.

  The second he walks in, I feel the atmosphere shift.

  I turned twenty-one this past semester, so I’m not surprised at the look of shock that crosses Theo’s face when he spots me. He narrows his gaze darkly before his eyes dart up in confusion, and I think he’s trying to recall my birthday to see if I’m even old enough to be here. His gaze finds mine again and then drops to the glass in my hand holding a
clear liquid and a lime perched on the side of it.

  I tilt my head to the side and give him a cocky smile before turning my back to him to face my friend Aurora hoping that it’s enough to entice him to come over. Aurora, who goes by Rory after an ongoing obsession with Gilmore Girls, turns towards me with a tiny glass full of amber-colored liquid. She sinks her teeth into her brightly painted red lip. “Fireball!” She looks at something behind me and gives me a wicked smirk. I know why. Every girl in our graduating class—Raegan’s too for that matter—has a crush on Theo.

  Everyone except me, of course. I’m immune to his charms, obviously. Lucas and Raegan are like my honorary siblings which means Theo Graham is like a second dad.

  At least, that’s what I say when all of my girlfriends gush about how fine he is.

  “I’m sorry, are you old enough to be here, young lady?” His words are low and smooth and warm my insides like the shot of Fireball in my hand.

  I turn around and meet his gaze, slowly raking my eyes up his body. I scoff and press a hand to my chest, giving him my most shocked and disappointed look. “You’ve known me for eight years and have been to at least five of my birthday parties and you don’t know that I’m twenty-one now?”

  He shakes his head and chuckles before looking at Rory who somehow has a third shot of Fireball.

  “Aurora.” He quirks an eyebrow at her as she holds the tiny glass out for him.

  “Mr. Graham! Take a shot with us,” Rory says.

  “Now, you know it’s Theo.”

  “And you know it’s Rory,” she flirts, batting her long full lashes that are only highlighted by the round frames that sit perched on her nose like a sexy librarian and I can’t ignore the pang of jealousy that floats through me. “Your son isn’t here yet, so you have to fill in.” She rolls her eyes.

  “I can’t believe you two are old enough to take shots.”

  “Really? Because we’ve been taking shots in your basement since we were sixteen,” Rory admits with a cheeky smirk and my eyes go wide at my friend’s confession.

  “Rory!” I squeal and she laughs loudly, tossing her head back before downing her shot without waiting for me or Theo.

  “Oh, we aren’t old enough to come clean yet? I always assumed he knew. My parents did.” She shrugs.

  “I had an inkling,” Theo says and I wonder if my parents were the only ones who believed that we were all perfect angels whenever I had people over.

  Someone calls Rory’s name from across the room and she slips away with a wave and a hug to Theo before moving through the bar, leaving us alone.

  “Should we take this?” I ask and he shakes his head.

  “I’m a little old for Fireball.” He sets the glass on the bar behind me and I wish he hadn’t because he’s close enough for me to smell his sinfully sexy cologne, taking me back to being in his arms and rubbing against him, and yep, now I’m horny and about to say something bold.

  “Oh? Here I thought you liked indulging in things you might be a little old for?” I raise an eyebrow at him and his eyes widen as he stares me down. His eyes close slowly and when he opens them, they’re full of lust and maybe a little irritation at me for bringing up something we have never spoken of out loud.

  “You’re playing with fire, Avery.”

  “Am I?” I shrug. I down the shot of the cinnamon flavored whiskey I’ve been holding, set the empty glass next to his full one, and reach for his to down before he can protest.

  “Avery,” his voice is hoarse. “How did you get here?”

  “Uber.”

  “It’s starting to snow harder. Do not Uber home. I’ll take you when you’re ready.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s most certainly not fine. I brought the Jeep, I’ll take you home or I’ll call your father to come get you. At least I won’t be worrying about you riding around in a car that doesn’t have all-wheel drive. I’m not joking,” he says before looking at the bartender. “Water for her.” He points at me. “Drink the whole thing, Avery,” he says before turning away from me and disappearing into the crowd.

  Sometime later, those two shots of Fireball coupled with the two vodka sodas I had and the week of poor nutrition and lack of sleep have me more than a little intoxicated. I’m not sure how much time has passed or where Theo went, but something tells me he’s close by. Watching. That thought has me swaying my hips on the dance floor next to Rory who is way drunker than me as she grinds against her on and off high school boyfriend, Justin. It’s winter break, so it’s on.

  Another friend of ours is behind me, I think, and while I’m not dancing as obscenely as Rory, I do feel something pushing against my back and hands on my hips. I turn in someone’s arms and spot Nate Reynolds, who I’d dated in high school and was absolutely not who I expected.

  “Nate?” I push his chest gently, putting space between us.

  “Avery Summers.” He smiles cockily. That same cocky smile that cost me my virginity and months of heartache.

  I give him a fake smile before rolling my eyes and making a move off the dance floor, hoping it serves as a signal that I am definitely not interested in going on a trip down memory lane or reliving the glory days or whatever the hell Rory and her ex are planning to do tonight.

  “You get even more gorgeous every time I see you.” His hand runs down my arm and I roll my eyes.

  “Please.” I chuckle. “Find someone else tonight, babes. It’s not going to be me.”

  “You wound me.” He puts a hand across his heart.

  I deadpan. “The irony,” I say, referring to all the “wounding” he did to me during my senior year of high school. And freshman year of college.

  I move through the bar, grabbing my coat from the booth where we’d all placed our things, and start moving towards the door, wanting to put as much space as possible between myself and my annoying ex-boyfriend.

  “You want me to take you home?” he asks and I scrunch my face.

  “No. I came out here to get away from you. Read the room.” I pull up my phone, contemplating texting my dad to come get me since Theo threatened me with it anyway. But it’s almost two in the morning and while he’d do it, he would be irritated as hell that I waited this long to call him if I knew I was going to need a ride.

  “Look, I’m sorry about all that shit…but that was years ago.”

  “Okay?” I chuckle. “I’m not mad at you still, but I’m also not going to hook up with you.”

  “Who said anything about hooking up?” he says, but that wicked glint in his eyes tells me I nailed what he was thinking despite what he hadn’t said.

  “Please. I speak fluent fuckboy.” I flutter my eyelashes at him and he rolls his eyes before pressing his hands against his mouth and blowing on them. I’m guessing he’s regretting following me outside without a coat. The lengths guys will go to when they think there’s potential for a hookup.

  “Ave, you ready to go?” I hear Theo’s voice from behind us and then he’s moving to stand in front of us on the sidewalk.

  Nate looks at him and gives him that smile that all the guys give him. They all have Theo on this pedestal and practically worship the ground he walks on. If there wasn’t snow on the ground, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he dropped to his knees and bowed down to him.

  “Theo!”

  Theo clears his throat. “Mr. Graham,” he corrects Nate. I smile to myself knowing he hates being called Mr. Graham, and all of Lucas and Raegan’s friends call him Theo. Nate laughs like he’s not serious but Theo is less than a fan of Nate; probably because of the weeks he had to listen to me crying in his basement while simultaneously begging Lucas not to beat the shit out of him. He looks at me. “I think I should take you home, it’s getting late.”

  I nod in agreement because I’m ready to be away from Nate and alone with Theo. I’m already sending a text to Rory to make sure she has a ride as he ushers me away from Nate and towards his car.

  When we’re out of earshot, I feel his gaze on the side of my face. “You okay?”

  “About Nate?” I snort. “Yeah.” He nods and I think he’s going to say something but he stops when we get to his truck.

  “In you go.” He opens the door for me and it’s a little high off the ground, so he has to help me up into it, and the mere feeling of his hand helping me is enough to make my skin sizzle. He’s around to his side in an instant.