CJ stopped him. “No, listen. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. You weren’t okay. Your best friend was killed. You lost your parents. You played it cool, but you were wild and so very angry. I was drawn to that because . . . well, because I knew the feeling. When my parents found out I was gay, they stopped being my parents, just like that. From one moment to the next, I was suddenly abandoned just for being me. I became wild and angry too, and we . . . well, we fit in that moment. But I always knew I’d have to let you go when you were ready, and I did. And then, somehow, I slowly changed. I came to the questionable wisdom that I was missing out on life. I went to LA for a while. And”—he shook his head—“I slept with anything that moved.”

Gavin felt the vicious bite of jealousy, but he nodded because he got it. “I’m sorry. I did love you, but I was scared. I wasn’t ready for a commitment. Hell, I couldn’t have committed to a dentist appointment back then. I was a hot mess and unable to let myself care, about anything.”

“Where did you go?”

“Arizona. The job was high pressure, the competition was fierce, and I struggled to keep up. I cared way too much about everything and . . . I couldn’t function.”

“That’s why you started abusing the pain meds,” CJ said. “You were trying to not care.”

“Not care, not feel . . . not anything.” Gavin shook his head. “I just kept self-medicating until I lost my shit.” He paused, but knew he had to say all of it. “Lost my job too. I hit rock bottom when I got a DUI, and ended up in rehab. Used all of my savings between my lawyer and the facility I stayed in. I promised myself if I survived it, I’d get my act together.”

CJ looked shaken. “So are you? Together? Because it seems like you do care deeply now, at least for your family.”

“Yeah, well, even I can learn something, I guess.”

For a long time, he’d played the victim in his own head, assuming the worst in people. He’d convinced himself that his grandma hadn’t wanted them, she’d had no choice, that Piper hadn’t wanted to be head of the family, she’d had no choice. Wildstone had been too small-minded for him . . . and so on.

But he’d been wrong on all counts. Looking back, he knew how much his grandma had loved him, she’d just been grieving the loss of her daughter, and then her own husband. Piper and Winnie both loved him, madly, and he was fucking lucky considering the long, slow, painful route he’d taken to dubious adulthood. “I owe you an apology,” he said quietly. “A big one.”