She shifted on her seat, irritation tightening her features before she softened for whatever reason. That’s what Bren did. She got mad, and then she either hardened herself or she melted. When she was with me, it was the latter. Every time. And I found myself grinning because fuck, I loved her.

I knew no matter what that I would do whatever she wanted me to do. She might’ve been floundering a little, but she didn’t know how much she was my anchor. She was my North Star. I needed her or I’d be lost. I’d go off the rails.

Bren wanted justice in the world, and I knew that’s where we were going. Me, I just wanted her.

“It’s Tabatha.” She shrugged, looking away from me as she answered.

That reply didn’t sit right.

I frowned. “What do you mean, ‘it’s Tabatha?’”

“I don’t know. She’s, she’s just, she’s Tabatha.”

That made no sense to me. “She’s Jordan’s cheating ex.”

“She’s my friend.” She looked back to the table, starting to pick at some of the paint that had chipped off.

Understanding then dawned. “You care about Tabatha.”

“Don’t you?”

“Not really.”

She frowned, going back to the paint, but this time with more determination.

I reached over, catching her hand before she got a splinter, and pulled her around to my side. She resisted at first, then I tugged her all the way over. We were in a back corner. People could still see us, but I didn’t care. We weren’t normally a PDA couple, except for the occasion neither of us gave a damn what others thought. And this was one of those moments for me.

I needed to touch her, reassure her.

Keeping her hand in mine, I refrained from hauling her onto my lap, shifting to face her a bit better. “I’m not important in this scenario. You are. I want to hear what you want to do.” I nudged her on the leg. “Talk to me.”

She flashed me a look.

Yeah, yeah.

I know. I didn’t open up about my brother either. There was a reason for that. One, he was a dick. Two, he was a dick. Three, he was still a dick, but I knew I couldn’t walk away from him and I also couldn’t stand to be around him. See my dilemma. Once I had the words, I would share them. I just didn’t have them at this moment in time.

“Tabatha. You care about her.”