Deacon’s shoulders sagged, but his eyes burned into mine. “Fuck, Charlie. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said. Can’t you hear that? Can’t you see that?”

“When have you ever been sorry for anything you’ve said or done in your entire life? That’s part of who you are—that’s part of Deacon Carver—unapologetically arrogant and unaware.”

A few seconds of silence passed between us before a mumbled “Christ” slipped from his lips. Instead of loosening his hold on me, his fingers contracted slightly, bringing us impossibly closer together. “Where did shy, sweet Charlie go?”

“You’d be surprised what I can say when I think it long enough.” It also helped tremendously that we were mostly hidden in the darkness.

He huffed. “Clearly.” But there was something in his voice that caught me off guard. Instead of the sneer I had come to expect from him, it sounded like a mixture of amusement and pride.

And I didn’t know what to make of it or him or the fact that he was still holding me and my heart was beating loud enough that I was sure he could hear it.

“I’m ready for you to let me g—”

“Your face on Monday,” he said softly, his voice gruff. “I can’t stop thinking about the way you looked at me.”

“I already asked you to stop.” I pressed harder against his muscled chest, but my strength suddenly gave out at his next words.

“Just tell me if you’re okay with what happened to Ben.”

“What?” I asked breathlessly.

“Tell me if you’re okay. With what he did to you, with his death . . . all of it.”

“Why . . .” I stared at my hands and blinked slowly as I replayed his words, then lifted my head until I was looking into Deacon’s eyes. Mine narrowed in suspicion. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I’ve known you most of your life, Charlie, and—”

“We live in Thatch. Everyone has known everyone for most of their life.”

“You know it’s different with us. But I always saw you as shy, sweet Charlie, who hid behind her brother and Grey so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. When I found out about you and Ben, and the way everything was handled after, I thought you were selfish and immature. It looked like you didn’t care, and let Jagger always take care of your problems. That look on your face this week—like you agreed with me—has fucking haunted me because I know I had it all wrong.”

“So because I agreed with you, suddenly you want to apologize and check on me?” I said with a disbelieving laugh.

Judging from his expression, he knew it didn’t make sense, either. “Charlie, I just want to know if you’re okay.”

My head shook subtly, but instead of responding, I asked, “Why are you doing this? This isn’t you and this isn’t us. We aren’t friends, Deacon. So why don’t you go back to being your unapologetic, arrogant self, and I’ll go back to not speaking to you, now that I’ve gotten out everything I’ve been thinking all week.”

Deacon’s brow pinched in frustration and hurt, but just as he opened his mouth to respond, a deep voice came from a few feet away.

“Everything okay out here?”

I whipped my head to the side, and stumbled back a step when Deacon suddenly released me.

A freezing feeling shot through my veins as I stared into my brother’s narrowed eyes, and my stomach rolled as if he’d just caught me doing something I wasn’t supposed to.

Deacon cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “Jagger.”

Jagger didn’t look at him. He folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head as he asked me, “Again, is everything okay?”

“We were just talking,” I said quickly, and bit back a groan when Grey stepped up behind Jagger.

“Uh, so . . . hey, everyone,” she said slowly, and looked quickly among the three of us. “Charlie, my parents are going to take Aly home. Do you want them to take Keith too, so you can—”

“No, no, I’ll get him. It’s late, I was about to leave.”

“Looked like it,” my brother mumbled.

“Jagger . . .” I released a sigh and glanced over at Deacon, but his eyes were on the grass. Without saying a word to any of them, I started walking in the direction of the tent.

I hadn’t taken more than three steps before Deacon called out, “Char—”

“Good night, Deacon,” Jagger said roughly, and turned to follow me when I passed him.

Despite Jagger’s constant questions about what Deacon and I had been doing, and Grey’s questions about what she had walked in on, I remained silent as I collected my son and walked to my car.

“Deacon isn’t the kind of guy you should—”

I shut the back door of my car once I had Keith in his booster seat, and whirled on Jagger. “We were talking, Jagger. Literally talking. Nothing more. But even if for some insane reason there had been more, you cannot do what you just did.”

Jagger shot his arm out behind him. “Do you know how close you two were? Do you know what it looked like I interrupted? And with Deacon, of all guys!”

“I don’t care!” I cried out. “He was holding me because he was trying to keep me there so I wouldn’t keep walking away from him while he apologized for what he’d said last week.”

That stopped Jagger from whatever he’d been about to say. His head jerked back as he took in my words, and Grey’s eyes widened as she looked from Jagger to me. It was clear in her look that she hadn’t told Jagger that there had been tension between Deacon and me. Not that I’d thought she had. Jagger would have brought it up to me as soon as Grey mentioned it.

“Apologize?” Jagger asked softly, darkly. “For what?”

“It doesn’t matter; and you’re still doing it. Jagger, you are my brother. Just be my brother! I appreciate what you did for me growing up more than you will ever know, but I am an adult now. You don’t need to keep parenting me. You don’t need to force your way into a situation and act like my father when you don’t even know what the situation is. Do you know that people think I hide behind you? Do you know that people think I pawned Keith off on you because you forced me to go away to college alone? All I wanted was to be with my son, but because you think you know what’s best for me, I missed out on so many months with him!” I nearly yelled. “Jagger, I love you, but just stop!”