“Avery …” Total defeat seeps through my phone. She’s disappointed in me. A real shocker. I’m disappointed in me. “I’ll send you some money. Just tell me how much. But I can’t come get Swarley. If you’re too stubborn to ask Dad and Deedy, then I don’t know what to tell you. You shouldn’t have left L.A. with Swarley until we got home.”

“I had to leave. My life was falling apart. Anthony developed a craving for chocolate—one I couldn’t satisfy—and I …” I wipe the streams of tears from my cheeks. “I needed someone and you were gone, so I went to Dad.”

“You’re going to have to explain the falling apart and chocolate craving later, but I’m truly sorry you were in need of someone and I wasn’t here for you.”

I know it’s not her intention, but she makes me sound so needy. Gah! Am I really that needy? Did she always feel like I needed her to fix shit in my life? I roll my eyes while drying my tears, clearly the middle-of-the-night phone call proves that theory correct.

“Ah, good …”

My gaze flies over my shoulder. He’s awake. Fabulous.

“You’re up,” Jake continues, stretching his arms over his head in one direction then the other, “and dressed for a quick hike. What a nice surprise. Let’s do it so we can pack up and hit the road.”

After I look for as many physical flaws in his body as I can find—too many tattoos is all I can find in this lighting—I point to my phone planted against my ear. “I’m on a call. Where’s Swarley?”

“He marked the area and went back into the tent.” Jake nods to my phone. “East Coast, I hope. If you’re calling California, I bet whoever is on the other end of that call really hates you right now.”

“Oh my gosh, he’s adorable.” Sydney laughs. “I don’t hate you, Ave, but I don’t hate him either. Sorry. And good to know someone’s keeping track of my dog.”

“Yeah, I agree, Sis, even his voice is obnoxiously annoying.”

“Avery, stop! I didn’t say—”

“Love you too, gotta go.”

“The money, Avery. How much?”

“No worries for now. I’ll let you know.” I press End. “Were you awake when I was getting dressed?”

“Of course.” He covers his yawn with his fist.

“You just like to play dead?”

“It’s better than being dead.”

“In your case, I disagree.”

“Ouch.” He presses a hand to his chest.

“Let’s go.” I start marching off.

“This way, Ave.”

Huffing while coming to a stop, I pivot. He smirks.

“Fuck the hike. Let’s take a jog. I have a lot of energy and anger to burn off.”

“Now we’re talking.” He grins.