Even when I, you know. Screw his uncle.

“I guess this way we can have family Thanksgivings,” Harry says, tearing up a clump of grass and tossing the blades over the water. “I’m never calling you my aunt, though. Don’t go getting ideas.”

My mouth twists, and I try to keep the worst pain from my voice, my gaze fixed on the churning water. “Ha. Um, no. Everett doesn’t want me, and he made that crystal clear last night. But maybe I can visit you at college or something?”

“‘Course you can.” A strong arm wraps around my shoulders, and I nearly miss it when Harry mutters, “That asshole.”

I’m inclined to agree.

“You want me to move your stuff over to my barn? I could set up the sofa bed.”

It’s a sweet offer, but I shake my head and toss my own pebble. It bounces off a wet rock. “No, thanks. I need to get out of here, Harry. I’ve already stayed way too long.”

Twelve

Everett

The relief of seeing my nephew stride through my front door sours as soon as he snatches up one of Josie’s bags from behind the sofa. He doesn’t say a word as he gathers up her things, tossing clothes and books into her duffel, his jaw rigid and his mouth in a flat line.

Are they getting back together? Is that what the bag means?

Christ. I have no right to care, but I can feel my insides crumbling.

I’ve been a wreck since last night. Couldn’t find Harry—and couldn’t face Josie’s hurt. I’ve been stumbling around the Barns like a zombie, trying to put my hands to good use.

“You want me to make up the sofa bed in your barn?” My voice is pure gravel, but at least I’m being useful. Showing that I won’t stand in their way.

Although…

Please, god, let her stay on the sofa bed. Not in the bedroom with him. Please, god, allow me this.

“Josie’s leaving.” Harry’s words hit me square in the chest, and I sway on my feet. No. No, she can’t go.

I could get by, just about, if she was his but still here. Close enough for me to hear her bright laughter and watch her eye squint shut when she teases one of us. Close enough to make her coffees and cook her food and take care of her.

“Leaving,” I repeat, the word not sinking in.

It doesn’t make sense. Where would she go?

“Yeah.” Harry shoves a heather gray zip up hoodie into her bag, his movements savage. “Apparently my uncle fucking her virginity away then literally leaving her in the dirt didn’t make her feel super welcome.”

I’m ice cold. It’s spreading through me, gnawing at my bones.

That’s not how it went down. Is it?

I mean, I left in a hurry, yeah. To chase after Harry. But I wasn’t running away from her. Didn’t want to make her feel unwanted.