His hand closed around my arm, surprisingly gentle in its strength but enough that I stopped in my tracks. I could have shaken him off, it was that light, but instead I savored the contact.

“I know you’re strong enough, Pika. But this town isn’t going to be gentle on whoever you deem worthy enough to give your heart unless they decide for you. And I don’t see you going for that. You let the town dictate once, and I know you loved him, and he loved you, but can you honestly say you’ll let Alba choose for you again? Do you love your comfortable boundaries that much?”

My posture softened, and he let go of my arm. He was right, which only pissed me off even more. Loving Sully had been easy because we’d fit. We’d been supported and encouraged—enabled—by everyone around us.

He placed the unicorn on the kitchen counter. “Thank you for taking care of me. It’s been a hell of a long time since anyone’s done that. I’m going to head down, hopefully get to pay my bill, and go home.”

His broad back filled my vision as he passed me.

How was it possible that no one had cared for him in the past decade?

“You should come to the Historical Society,” I blurted.

He paused but didn’t turn.

“If you want to help your dad, you’re going to have to go against Alexander. You’ll need support, and reminding them that you’re a son of a founding family will go a long way. You don’t have to like the game to play it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He walked out, and less than a minute later, Charity breezed into the kitchen.

“Camden’s sure in a mood,” she remarked, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and apple juice from the refrigerator. “Want some?”

I shook my head. “Camden is always in a mood. Stubborn ass.” My voice definitely lacked its usual bite when discussing the middle Daniels.

Her shoulders shook with laughter as she poured her drink.

“How did you two not get together?” I questioned. “You’re exactly alike. I always figured you’d end up dating when we were in high school. Both rebels to the core.” Not to mention that Charity was timelessly beautiful, where I was cute, maybe passably pretty at best.

She looked at me like I was a class-A moron and put away the juice. “Seriously?” She sipped her juice but peered at me over the glass.

“What? It’s not like he’s hard to look at, and you graduated the same year.” It was a logical conclusion. Hell, maybe they had hooked up once and I’d never known. I rubbed my chest, trying to soothe the ache that surfaced at the thought.