A familiar form of agony settled in: betrayal. Just like with Luke. Learning about this from him was beyond ironic, like everything was coming full circle. My mind backpedaled, frantically searching for a reasonable explanation. Maybe the picture was old, from before. But then why would Luke even have it?

From inside my bedroom, I heard Shiv answer the door and let Chase in. When he crossed the threshold into my room, his posture was stiff, and his eyes were haunted. He even looked guilty.

“Hi.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, leaning against the doorframe.

More alarm bells went off in my head when he didn’t come close and give me a hug or kiss hello.

“Where were you earlier?” I was too upset to be strategic about how I approached what was going on, and his standoffish behavior was only causing me further panic.

“Practice,” he said. “Look, we need to—”

My heart sank. Strike one. He lied.

I cut him off, giving him a sharp look. “You sure about that?”

“What do you mean?” Chase frowned, but guilt swam in his eyes.

“Did you make any other stops along the way?”

Please tell me the truth. Please own up to it.

“I had to do a few things, yeah.”

Pushing my desk chair back, I stood, watching his face carefully. My pulse revved. “Was Kristen one of them?”

Chase broke eye contact and looked at the floor, shaking his head. Almost inaudibly, he muttered, “Of course.”

“What the hell is going on, Carter?”

There had to be an explanation for this. There had to be a good reason he was there, and he was going to tell me what it was. I trusted him. I believed in him.

He looked back up at me with so much anguish in his eyes that tears welled up in my own. “Nothing happened with her. I swear.”

Yeah, I’d heard that line before—a few too many times. But never from him. None of this made sense.

And the worst part was that it felt like he was telling the truth.

I sucked in a jagged breath and sank my teeth into my bottom lip to stop myself from crying. “Then why were you there?”

“I—” He faltered, shaking his head. “Can’t.”

My voice cracked. “Please tell me. I want the truth.”

This was not happening. Could not be happening. This was the guy who’d been there for me unconditionally, even when I pushed him away. Who’d been nothing but patient and kind and—most of all—honest with me. Sometimes brutally so.

“No,” he said more firmly. A flicker of his usual self-assured demeanor appeared, but it disappeared almost as quickly. “I haven’t even looked at anyone else since I met you. I think you know that.”

“I thought I did too, but I need an alternate explanation.”