“What’s your family’s lodge like?”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Big. In the mountains. It was passed down from my grandfather to my mother.”

“And now, it’s your legacy?”

“Something like that,” he murmurs.

“Tell me about something,” I offer, rolling onto my side facing him. It’s a mistake because he’s even more devastating in the dark.

“About what?”

I shrug, tucking my hands under my head.

“Anything.”

He cocks a brow, side-eyeing me.

“You want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“No,” I grumble, rolling my eyes. “Just anything. Something that you’ve never told anyone.”

He’s silent for a long time. I wait patiently, watching him look up at the slats in the ceiling above.

Just when I think he’s either fallen asleep or he’s going to deny me, he speaks.

“When I was a kid, I had this dog named Pepper. She was just some little mutt, but she was a good dog. She fucking loved pancakes. Mom would make pancakes every Saturday, and the damned dog always got the first one.”

“Your mother had her priorities straight,” I chuckle softly.

“She fucking loved that dog,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “Sometimes I wondered if she loved the dog more than us kids.”

“You have siblings?”

His jaw ticks, and his eyes finally find mine.

“I had three. Two—now. A brother and a sister. I’m the oldest.”

Figures. He has big brother energy.

“Can . . . I ask what happened to the other?”

He stares at me for a beat before facing back toward the ceiling.

“Gone. Died in a fire the night Mom did. Up at the old cabin, Dad used to own.”

“I’m sorry,” I breathe, warmth pooling behind my eyes. Why am I always crying when he tells me about his past?

“Don’t be. Shit happens.”

“You have such an absolute view of it,” I murmur. “Most people would struggle with losing their family that way.”

“No use being sad over shit you can’t change,” he mutters gruffly. “Mom was a good person. A good mom,” he adds after amoment. “Just prefer to think of that rather than what happened to her.”

“What were they like?”

He smirks, chuckling under his breath.