EVERETT SAT IN Callie’s living room, staring at the coffee table and the letters it hid for what must’ve been the hundredth time in the last few days. He’d hardly been home since Sunday and when he was, he passed his brother as if they were strangers. But neither of them was ready to break, no matter how many times their dad laid into them about being brothers and to stop being idjits. Everett wasn’t going to make the first move. Either Justin apologized, or he didn’t, but Everett wasn’t goin

g to take the first step.

And even though his brother had been weighing heavily on his mind, Callie’s secret stash of letters was eating at him.

He heard the water turn off in the kitchen. Callie hummed her way back into the living room but stopped just as she came up behind him.

As if he hadn’t heard her.

“I’m not going to forbid your humming in your own house.”

“Just in yours?”

“If you’ll remember, I said whistling.”

Callie laughed as she sat down beside him. “Wanna watch something?”

Everett glanced over at the coffee table again and decided it was time. “Actually, Callie, I want to talk about something.”

“Uh-oh, this sounds serious.”

“Here’s the thing . . . ”

“WE’VE BEEN DATING for almost five weeks.”

Callie cocked her head to the side, unsure where he was going with this. “Okay.”

“And I feel like we can talk about stuff now. You trust me right?”

Callie hated loaded questions, and unease settled in her belly. “What’s this about, Everett?”

Everett sat forward with his head in his hands, and Callie’s heart stopped.

Oh, Jesus, what?

“A few days ago, I was looking for coasters, and I opened that drawer over there. I found a dozen or more letters from some man named Tristan—”

“You looked at my letters?” She practically screeched the words at him. “Did you read them?”

“No, of course not, but I am curious. You have dozens of unopened letters, and it’s been driving me crazy not knowing—”

“It’s not your business.”

He seemed to consider that, but instead of letting it go, he pushed back. “Callie, I’ve told you about my past, but getting to know you is like pulling teeth. Just give me something.”

“I have given you something.” She stood up and began pacing the room, wrapping her arms around her body like a shield. “I’ve given you my body, my heart, and my trust—”

“If you really trusted me, you would tell me why you have a dozen unopened letters rotting in a drawer.” Callie gasped, but he just kept going. “You would tell about what happened to your mom, or anything before the past five years. Trust is about sharing your hopes, your fears, your past. But you only give me scraps of truth. I need more.”

“And I need time.” God, why did he keep pushing for more than she was ready to give? She had just started to think they were happy, that they could actually make this work, and now here he was, making demands and dropping bombs on her. “You can’t just snoop around and expect me to pour out my life story. You act like five weeks is such a long time, like there’s some magic timeline that tells me when I can share things that maybe I’d rather keep buried.” She was breathing hard, trying to calm down, but she was too far gone. “Did you ever think about that? That I’m happy for the first time in what feels like forever, and maybe I don’t want to taint that by dredging up the past?”

“Callie, whether or not you want to talk about it, you held on to those letters. You’re the one not letting go and not dealing with whatever happened to you.” His tone was slow, calm, coaxing, like he was talking to a child throwing a tantrum, and it infuriated her.

“Get out of my house.” Her tone was filled with cold fury, and she didn’t care. She just wanted to be alone. “You have no right to tell me how to live and deal with my pain. You’re not perfect either, Everett.”

“I never said I was, but I know what you’re doing isn’t healthy.” He tried to reach for her, but she jerked away. The pain and hurt in his eyes gave her pause, until he started preaching to her about what she needed. Again. “You need to deal with this, or it’s going to catch up to you one day and destroy you. And I love you too much to see that happen.”

He loved her? If he loved her, he would accept her. He would let her come to him in her own time, instead of making her feel wrong or broken for wanting to stay in their happy little bubble.