“This reminds me of your brother fighting in here that night you brought me.” I turn to him, leaning against the chain link. “Tell me about Kyle and Sutton. And you.”

He shrugs, one hand holding his longneck, the other going deep in his hip pocket. “What do you want to know? We met her at the same time.”

“Where was that?”

“The Wharf in Santa Cruz. He and me and Brayden and his girl. She was from Birmingham and had never seen the Pacific, so we took her out there to show it to her.”

“Tell me about Sutton.”

“We hit it off. I knew my brother liked her, too, but I swooped in first. It was never anything serious for me, though. I think, in the beginning, I thought maybe it could turn into something if I gave it time. She moved to San Jose and moved in with me.”

“Wow. That’s a lot. Moving here for you.”

“I don’t think I appreciated it—what she was giving up for the relationship. We were having fun.” He shrugs again. “I didn’t give it much thought.”

“How’d she end up with your brother?”

“He has a food truck. Needed some help, and Sutton didn’t have a job, so she started helping him out. It was my idea; can you believe it? Maybe subconsciously I knew they belonged together. I don’t know. Anyway, he got an opportunity for a slot at Tribe—”

“The big music festival out in the desert?”

“Yep. He needed help, so she went with him. The rest is history.” He takes a long swallow off his longneck.

“I’m sorry.”

“I was pissed, but she and I would never have been right for each other. Kyle and Sutton were meant to be.” He puts his hand on the cage, hooking his fingers in the chain link above my head. “Can’t fight destiny, right?”

“I suppose not.”

“I guess I’m a little gun-shy when it comes to girls playing games with me.” He dips his head until his mouth is almost touching mine. “You’re not gonna break my heart, are you, Tori-girl?”

Before I can answer, the back door flies open, and Rafe backs away, turning.

It’s Wolf.

“Come on, Rafe. Your mom called. It’s time to get over there and hide before your brother brings Sutton home.”

Rafe takes my hand, and we follow his father down the hall without a word.

Riding through the neighborhoods to Kyle’s place, Rafe taps my leg and turns his head, then points at a house. “That one’s mine.”

I study the cute Craftsmen style house with its 1920 architecture.

It has a lot of character, with a big bay window.

“I didn’t know you had a house.” I lean to say.

“Started as a rental, but the owner wanted to sell, so I bought it.”

We head up East San Antonio Street, then Rafe makes a turn and slows. He points at another house. “That’s Kyle’s. I’m gonna park around the corner.”

I gaze at it as we roll past. It’s a small place, and a lot like Rafe’s, but it’s in a nicer neighborhood with tree-lined sidewalks.

A red brick patio sits in front with a massive stone chimney climbing the wall.

Rafe finds us a spot, and we walk back.

A woman answers the door, and I know immediately she must be Rafe’s mother.