Jesus. He scrubbed a hand down his face and gingerly picked up the phone and thumbed to the next message, half terrified it’d be another pic. It was a text: Sorry, darling, I meant to send that to myself and ended up sending it to my entire contact list.

That had been sent twelve hours ago, and when he hadn’t answered she’d sent another one: I’m guessing by the silent treatment that you don’t approve. Well, I don’t need your approval, Aidan Scott Kincaid, and I don’t want you getting mad at Lily for fixing my hair for my third date with Marcus, either, you hear me? And speaking of Lily, there’s something you should know.

He hit her number immediately. “What about Lily?”

“Honey, hi! You okay?”

“Yes.” He rubbed the spot between his eyes where a headache was forming. “Lily,” he grated out.

She sighed. “Okay, but you’re not going to like this.”

“I hate stories that start like that,” he muttered. “Is she okay?”

“Yes. Or as okay as she can be after what happened with you.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mom—”

“It’s all my fault, Aidan.”

He blinked. “What?”

“She didn’t tell Lenny anything. I’m the one who’s been talking to anyone who would listen, commiserating on how much we hope the worst doesn’t happen, you know?”

“Mom—”

“I didn’t realize Lenny was a bigmouth.” She sniffed and sounding watery said, “I’m so sorry, Aidan.”

Aw, shit. He blew out a sigh. “Please don’t cry—”

“But I made a mess of things and you fired Lenny and yelled at Lily, and then she dumped you, and—”

“Lenny was fired because he’d had his three strikes, Mom. Not your fault. And I didn’t yell at Lily. I’d never yell at Lily.”

But he’d hurt her feelings, and that was all on him.

Char sniffed again. “I’ll go talk to her for you and—”

“No.” Aidan had to force himself to soften his voice. “Don’t do anything, Mom. This is between me and Lily.”

“But honey, you’ll just make things worse.”

Very likely, and again he had to rub the stress spot between his eyes. “I need you to stay out of it. Promise me,” he said.

She hesitated.

“Mom.”

“Fine,” she finally said. “But you almost had a lovely thing going with her, Aidan. Don’t blow it for the second time.”

“The second time?”

“Well, yeah. You let her leave town all those years ago without a fight, remember?”

He let out a low laugh and resisted thunking his head against the steering wheel. Yeah. He vaguely remembered. “Gotta go, Mom. I’ve got a meeting.”

“But—”