“You’re going to want to punch me for this, so be prepared to swing, but…you know you deserve better, right?”

Her expression first went confused and then morphed into a full frown. “Ash, don’t.”

But he was unable to stop himself. “You can’t tell me that you looked at that guy and thought, yep, he’s totally a candidate for a relationship. He has future husband and father of my children written all over him. He totally deserves my time.”

“You think that’s what I thought about him?” she gave him a horrified look. “Lord, Ash, give me more credit than that. He was a hookup. A brief, clearly misguided distraction. I’m not looking for a husband. Or father for future children. Or any of that stuff.” She shrugged. “Simple men mean simple fun. Uncomplicated and no one gets hurt. Well, in this case, he got punched, but that was his own fault.”

He heard the words and knew that she had every right not to be seeking those things. But he couldn’t shut up anyway. Maybe her impulsiveness was contagious.

“But that was never your style. In high school, you wanted…” He let the words trail off, but she had to know what he was talking about. She’d dated a number of guys, but she’d always been set on not being her mother, on seeing each relationship as something with real potential. She’d been an utter romantic determined to break free of her lonely childhood and find real love, create her own family one day. Back then, he would’ve called it her obsession.

She looked down, bitterness entering her expression. “In high school, I had Graham. I had hope then that things could be different.” She lifted her lashes, meeting his eyes. “Nothing has felt like that since. I’ve tried. Developed some feelings for a few guys along the way. I just ended up getting hurt over and over again. I was miserable.”

“But—”

“And you know why I’m not miserable now? Why I can be so happy and upbeat and everyone else’s cheerleader?” she challenged.

He shook his head.

“Because I stopped hoping for things that weren’t meant to be. Hope is the thing that hurts the most,” she said, a tired edge to her voice. “It’s the thing that makes people make plans even though we have almost no control over whether that plan comes true. I had a plan. Well, turns out, so did Joseph and Trevor, and guns at prom trumped my plan to marry the guy I loved and live happily ever after. So why bother planning ahead? Someone could show up with their own agenda at any moment and just wipe you out or take someone from you, take everything from you.”

Her words made his chest hurt. “KC—”

“So I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t going to waste my time trying to find some guy who kinda sorta fit the mold of who I thought I’d be with forever. I don’t want a facsimile of Graham.”