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Yeah. That was the easier choice. The wise one.

“I’d just hope that when Sage gets back, you’ll talk to her about it.”

Her gaze darted back to him. “No one should go through life alone, Iris. Unattached, hell, yeah. For certain people. But notalone.”

She wasn’t alone. She had him and Sage. Little Leigh. Angel. The residents on the beach.

None of whom really knew her. They only knew who she’d wanted to become.

Which had been fine with her. Enough.

Until she’d stood beside the man’s twin, had seen the look in his eyes across from her. And started to cry.

Chapter Seventeen

Scott didn’t know what in the hell he was doing. Why he was still sitting on his bed when he was clearly free to go.

Iris would be better off with Sage, not him.

But Sage wasn’t there. And she’d want him to step up. Because Iris was his friend, too. He didn’t need his twin in the country to know that much. He could hear her voice in his head all the way from Europe. Even with the time difference.

“I didn’t think I’d everbein life alone.” The words brought his gaze from the doorway he’d been studying back to Iris in a flash. Head down, she was pulling at a string on the hem of her oversize T-shirt. And it hit him, like a rock on the head…she’d been in love.

Like Sage, she’d been hurt young.

The trauma she’d mentioned…a decade or so ago. It must have been more than just a normal teenage romance and breakup.

He didn’t know who the guy was, but sitting there, right then, Scott hated the guy. Wanted to give him a serious piece of his mind.

“What happened?” He was a gifted interrogator. Knew that it was easier to get to the emotional meat if he entered through the back door. What, not who.

“A car accident.”

He blinked. Frowned. Stared at the bent head just out of his reach. Felt the strongest urge to get close enough to put his fingers under that chin. Lift it. So he could see into her eyes. Maybe stroke her forehead as she’d touched his when he’d been hurting…

Had she been in the car? “Where?”

“The neighborhood where I grew up.”

She still wasn’t looking up. Had started on a second thread. Best to stay at the back door. Where Iris was concerned, it would always be best.

Yet, looking at her, he needed more. Felt raw with the not knowing.

The way she’d helped him when he was at his worst, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be content on the outside looking in again.

She’d helped him to the bathroom. Rushed him to the hospital. Had sex with him on the floor of a vacant house.

“When?” He finally got the right word out. Holding back for all he was worth.

“Almost eleven years ago. I was seventeen.”

Younger than he’d figured. With an older man?

Or a sweetheart she’d grown up with?

She’d given him a personal fact. Brought herself to the page. “Did you see it happen?” He approached the apex slowly. Told himself he was only doing what he knew to do well. Interrogate.

He’d never before had to hold his breath while awaiting a response.