The irony of moving into the role of brother to a master puppeteer like Hayden Fox is almost comical. He got hard on proving nothing was unbreakable. Least of all something as trivial as feelings.

And when he set his sights on Winter, I fucking lost it inside. I couldn’t show him that because I know what he would have done. He would have made her a game to get to me. I’ve learned, trained myself, to keep my composure around Hayden or he’ll feed on the pang of irritation he senses until it grows into a savage monster. So, I pushed her away. I made her leave and acted like I could give a shit about her.

I’ve never been a fan of lying. Who the fuck do I have to answer to? No one. Lying makes me feel small and weak, which I’m not. So lying about my feelings for Winter felt no different. And when she charged past us to leave the suite, I saw something in her expression that made me take pause. She was hurt and angry. She couldn’t pass us to leave the room fast enough. She was suffocating, and I saw it. She found no comfort in me, and I saw that, too.

I didn't know why. I still don’t.

Because I made her leave the room? Did she really expect to stay and watch Hayden and me duke it out? Typically, I’d brush off this kind of brattiness from her, but this was different. When she came home, she went straight to her room and locked the door behind her.

She locked the damn door.

Nothing says stay the fuck away from me quite like a locked door.

I texted her at midnight, asking if she’d like to have ice cream with me, and she responded with a single word:

Winter: Tired.

It may as well have read fuck you.

Today, we’re like strangers, roommates who don’t much like each other. And all because I told her to leave the room so I could talk to my brother. Fuck that.

This is why I don’t do relationships—because I’m fucking sane.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, pulling me from my musing. I lift it from my pocket to see a text from Preston.

Preston: Meet downstairs in ten?

Yeah, if Baby Bulldog would leave her damn room.

Me: Yep, we’ll be down.

Sondra and Preston are now here to stay. The funeral is finally over and passed. It’s their first night staying at the resort, so we’re having dinner at a restaurant up the strand. A five-star steakhouse built on stilts over the ocean. It’s the most impressive, most romantic place I could find within a ten-mile radius.

Winter will love it… Or she would have if she were coming with us. The woman I’m currently dealing with is Sister Winter—not quite the same.

I tap on Winter’s door. “Winter…” I wait a second but get no response. “Okay. We’re meeting everybody downstairs. I’ll wait by the front door.”