I am so damn tired of fighting with this woman and constantly saying the wrong thing. I miss us. I miss spending time with her and the easy banter and knowing we have each other’s backs no matter what. I don’t know how to reclaim the closeness, how to undo the damage being back in Sabine Valley has caused.

But I know where to start. “I’ve been an unbelievable ass.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Go on.”

Trust Shiloh not to make this easy on me. We haven’t fought often over the years, but she more than holds her own when we do. How had I forgotten that? Or the fact that she holds a grudge better than anyone I’ve met? Gods, I miss her.

I clear my throat. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted that you knew what you were doing. I shouldn’t have tried to override your choices or acted like I knew better than you did when it comes to yourself.”

“You also should have done your duty instead of dodging it.”

“And I should have done my duty instead of dodging it,” I admit.

She stares at me for a long moment. There’s something lingering in her eyes, something almost like the relief and hope I feel blossoming in my chest. “Is this apology just because you can’t stand for me to be mad at you? Or are you actually going to change your behavior going forward?”

“The latter.” When she stares, I feel compelled to add. “I’m going to try. Being in this city is fucking up my head more than I expected, and I can’t pretend I’m not going to mess up in the future, but I’m going to try. I promise.”

“I’ll try, too.” Shiloh nods. “You’re forgiven.”

“How entertaining.” Monroe claps her hands. “You two are sickeningly sweet. Really, you’re giving me cavities. How is that you aren’t married with half a dozen babies by now?”

I stare at her, my face heating. Monroe is a human-shaped wrecking ball, and I kind of want to toss her right out the window. She knows I want Shiloh, and even if she’s not actively trying to fuck with our friendship at the moment, she can’t seem to help poking at it and saying things I’d rather kept silent. “Shut up, Monroe.”

“We’re friends.” There’s something strange in Shiloh’s voice, a note that draws my gaze despite my best intention to look everywhere but at her. She’s…blushing?

I blink. “We’re friends?” I mean it to come out like a statement, but the words tilt up at the end, morphing it into a question. I know how I feel, but Shiloh has never given me the slightest indication that she might feel the same way.