Stella and I exchange a glance that lets me know we’re on the same page, and then she stands. “I need to get back to work and then I have a date.”

“Oh! With?”

“No one you know.” Stella grins.

Delia rolls her eyes. “As if there’s anyone in a twenty-mile radius that isn’t connected to someone in this town . . .”

“Then I guess you’ll hear about it sometime soon.” She walks off, leaving Delia and I a little stunned.

“Who do you think she’s dating?” she asks.

“No idea.”

“Me either, especially because I’m pretty sure she has a thing for Jack.”

My jaw falls slack at that proclamation. “Jack? Like, Jack O’Donnell?”

“Yup. I mean, she’s never said anything, but I’ve seen her eye-fucking him a few times. Then there was this time a few years ago . . . I don’t know.”

“Grayson would kill him,” I inform her.

“Why?”

“Stella’s his baby sister. The Parkersons have always protected her in a way that is almost ridiculous.”

I can’t imagine a world where Stella and Jack are a couple. Not just because he’s older than her but also because he’s . . . Jack. He’s the jokester. The one who laughs off life because he knows just how cruel it can be. He’s never serious about love, not after watching his mother die and his father take off.

“She’ll never do anything about it. At least, I doubt she would because of those reasons. Also, Jack has made it abundantly clear he wants sex with zero expectations.”

“Have you slept with Jack?” I ask. “When we were at the beach the first time, the two of you were gone for a very long time.”

Delia snorts. “Eww! No. We kissed once when we were both drunk as hell at a party. It was fine, but also kind of like . . . weird.”

Now this I want to hear. “Weird how?”

“Like, he’s good at it, I guess, but it was . . . Jack. We both stopped, looked at each other, and burst out laughing. If that gives you any indication of what our passion level was.”

I smile, trying to picture them together and failing to create a good image. “He deserves to be happy.”

“He does, and hopefully, one day, he’ll allow himself to be. He talks about this girl he loved, but she’s gone and he’s tormenting himself over it.”

“Losing someone you love is hard.”

Delia raises a brow, staring at me. “You would know.”

“I would.”

“It took you a long time to let yourself be happy again.”

“And it’s something I’m still learning to allow,” I admit.