Maybe he was destined to remain the hell-raiser who caused the townsfolk to raise their eyebrows. He definitely remained the black sheep of his family, a designation he proudly wore. He’d stopped caring years ago what others thought of him. There was freedom and empowerment in not giving a damn.

However, at night, he tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling. That’s when he cared that he was the unlikeable son and possibly the town joke. However, it didn’t stop him from wearing it like a badge of honor the rest of the day.

What was it about this roof that made him so introspective? Perhaps it wasn’t the best place to sit after all. But it sure had a great view. He cracked another cold beer.

A car pulled up to the curb and out stepped Leighton, in all her golden beauty. He downed the beer in his hand.

She walked up the pathway to the front door, sending an annoyed glance at his truck, oblivious to the fact that he sat on the roof. He hated that she felt so uncomfortable around him. And he hated that he even cared.

He threw the empty can onto the grass near where she stood. She jumped and then moved back to stare up at the roof.

“What are you doing on Nick’s roof?”

“Drinking.”

“On the ROOF?”

Why did everyone keep asking that? Like roof drinking was so far-fetched.

“Why not? It has the best view.”

Shockingly, she set her purse down and climbed up the ladder.

“Why are you drinking on Nick’s roof?” she reworded the question as she reached the top rung.

“Afraid I’m going to jump?” His left eyebrow shot up, the belligerent one that never failed to get him in trouble.

“Are you?”

“You’d like that!” The belligerent brow rose higher.

“No, Derek, I wouldn’t,” she sighed. “You’d make a mess of the flower bed I just planted.”

The other brow shot up now. “That’s it? You’re worried about some stupid flowers?”

“The roof isn’t high enough to cause you much harm.”

He pursed his lips and continued to push. “Would you even care if I hurt myself?”

Leighton stared at him, gave a slight head shake, and started to back down the ladder.

“You’re not going to join me?”

She paused, peering up at him. “No. Drinking with you never ends well.”

Damn, that stung. But it was true. He should never have touched her that night in the cornfield maze. They’d both consumed far too much alcohol. He should have kept his no-good hands to himself.

“Are you ever going to forgive me?”

Her forehead creased as she digested his out-of-character words, and her eyes met his. They were multicolored — gold, green, and hazel. So expressive. Her hair moved in the slight breeze, shades of wheat and caramel. Even her sun-kissed skin was golden. Leighton Gray was mesmerizing, and he needed to stop noticing that.

With great effort, he forced air back into his lungs. Her presence always left him breathless. Was it caused by attraction or from guilt?

“I’m sorry, Leighton. I shouldn’t have kissed you that night. I… I had feelings for you, and I acted on them.”

Her mouth dropped open, and he instantly wished he could take the words back. They were far too honest. Feelings were something he kept buried and never admitted to having. And even while he regretted speaking those words out loud, he wondered just how true they were. Were his feelings for her genuine, or had she simply become a habit? For so long, he believed he wanted her, angered that she chose Tommy over him. Did he really care? Or was she just another competition between him and his twin?

He was nowhere near as torn up over losing her as Tommy was.