Something I refuse to name.

I lift a shoulder. “Probably.”

Connor lets out a low whistle. “Man, you’re aterribleliar.”

Ignoring him, I step into the thick late spring air, sweat already forming at the back of my neck.

Or maybe that’s from the conversation.

He follows, grinning like a jackass. “She’s single, you know.”

“Who?” I play dumb, knowing that, too.

He stares at me like I’m a dumbass. “Harper.”

Her name is like darts being shot into my heart.

My jaw locks. “That’s nice.”

His laughter is smug as hell. “C’mon, Ford. Don’t play dumb. I knew you two in college. You had thatlovesick puppylook in your eyes.” He pauses. “I know you’ve been following her on socials.”

I grip my luggage tighter. “I wasn’t a lovesick puppy.”

Connor chuckles. “Right.”

A black SUV pulls up along the curb. The Uber I ordered for us is here.

Just as I reach the door handle, he leans in, his voice low. “You still keep that old phone, don’t you?”

I know immediately what phone he’s referring to.

The one with pictures of her.

The last texts she ever sent me.

The last voicemail she ever sent me.

I go still.

His gaze flickers knowingly. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

I don’t answer.

Because he’sright.

For the past ten years, I’ve been telling everyone—including myself—that I got over Harper Adams a long time ago.

The truth?

I never fucking did.

2

FORD

My Gram stands on the porch, arms crossed over her chest. A broad smile curls her lips when she sees me.

I tip the driver, throw the door open, and practically sprint to her.