“C’mon, Taylor. You barely know me.”

He nodded, pensive. “Not for lack of trying.” He backed away and pushed through the door.

The turn in conversation stunned me. In an effort not to screw up, I’d screwed up. My feet slogged toward the back until I heard a quiet low voice in the darkness.

“Hey,” Chuck said from the last barstool. He took a drink from a beer can.

“Jesus!” I squealed. “That’s the second time someone has scared the shit out of me today!”

“Sorry,” he said simply.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yep. Just had to meet a delivery truck running late. Finally got everything put away. You know how Phaedra is about order.”

“Where is she?” I asked, knowing she would usually be at the café to help when a truck came after-hours.

“She’s not feeling great. I think she’s still shaken up about ole Don. His obituary was in the paper today. The funeral is on Monday. You should go.”

“Are you guys going?”

He shook his head. “I’m not. Phaedra was hoping you’d go with her.”

I brushed my bangs from my eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go.”

“She’s a little worried about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. And now, I am, too. Is that boy bleeding from you or something else?”

I sighed and sat on the stool next to Chuck. The darkness and emptiness seemed to amplify our voices.

“He got into a fight with his brother. They’re twins. His brother kissed me. I thought it was Taylor. Taylor punched him. The brother hit back. It’s messed up.”

“I gather.”

“He’s going to take me home with him sometime. To Eakins. I think.”

Chuck crunched the empty can in his hand. “Does he know?”

“No,” I said simply. When Chuck made a face, I raised my hands, palms out. “He doesn’t want to know.”

“Not that you’d tell him if he did.”

“Probably not.”

“Falyn—”

“I know. I know. He’s going to figure it out eventually.”

“That’s not what I was going to say. If that’s really what you want, Phaedra and I want to help.”

I shook my head and stood. “No.”

“Falyn,” Chuck pleaded.

“We’ve talked about this. You’ve already done too much. You’ve given me a job and a place to live.”

“You barely let us do that,” he said, arching a brow.

“Thank you for even considering it. But Taylor is the plan.”

“He seems like a good kid.”

I nodded.

“And you’re a good kid. I think he probably deserves to know what he’s in for … and you probably know that, too. I’m sure that’s difficult since you’ve spent so much time not talking about it. But the fact remains the same. If he’s going to take you out there, he should probably know to hold your hand.”