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Notice me walking behind Austin nervously biting off my nails? I’m going into the lion’s den. You’d be biting your fingernails off if you were me too.

Tyler.

Ridge.

Friends, it’s about to be a real shit show.

We enter through the back of my parents’, and the yard is teeming with people. Tyler, as usual, brought most of his team with him.

I’ve met Tyler’s boss—Jameson Riley—numerous times over the years. He’s a nice guy, not like most professional athletes you come across. He’s won the NASCAR Cup championship something like eight times now, and he’s only in his thirties. That’s impressive if you ask me.

The boys find him immediately, ditching me with Austin the instant they spot Jameson and his wife next to Tyler. They have three kids, the youngest being the same age as the boys.

Grady tugs on Jameson’s hand. “Where are your kids?” No “hey Jameson, how have you been?” That’s my kid. One tracked mind.

With a beer dangling in his other hand, Jameson’s laughing at something someone else said, but looks down at Grady and points to the tree where all three of his kids are. “Over there.”

Both Grady and Cash take off to where the other kids are, and I’m grabbed from behind, burly arms around my chest pinning my arms to my side. “It’s ’bout time you came by.”

Austin rolls his eyes and walks away toward the cooler.

Twisting in his arms, I turn and hug Tyler. He smells like beer and gas, much like he always smells. His warm brown eyes beam down at me. “What took you so long?”

Drawing back, I smooth out my tank top, taking the beer he hands me. “We got caught up at the house.” I can’t tell him I was stalling because I know what his next question is going to be.

“Where’s Austin?”

Fuck. I sigh. I wait. . . sigh again. I point to the cooler where Austin disappeared to. He’s not talking to anyone; he’s staring at his phone in his hand.

Thankfully—by the grace of God maybe—Ryder approaches us. Ryder Christensen is my brother’s friend, they met racing USAC and is an eternal bachelor. I don’t think he’ll ever marry because flirting is his thing.

Like now. He kisses my cheek and winks at me, stealing my beer I’d just been given. “Where’s that husband of yours?” He takes a drink. “Finally dump him and give me a chance?”

Tyler has always been intuitive. I have never been able to keep a secret from him, a lot like my dad. I can’t lie to him. Like now.

Just spit it out, Aly.My hands shake. Like an allergic reaction, my throat feels like it’s going to close up. Behind the guys, Ridge’s standing near the fence, leaned into it talking to Jameson now.

Our eyes focus on one another and I can’t, don’t want to look away.

And then I look to Austin. He’s still staring at his phone.

“Austin and I are actually getting a divorce.”

Don’t look at Austin or Ridge. Take notice of my brother’s face. . . then Ryder’s. They glance at one another, and Tyler smiles. “Thank fuck,” Tyler whispers, but then appears confused. “Whyis he here?”

And I breathe a sigh of relief. That wasn’t so bad, was it? “Grady asked him to come.”

Tyler takes a drink of his beer and then pulls it away. “Why?”

“Why what?” I ask, playing dumb and trying to hide the nervous look on my face by drinking the beer I steal back from Ryder.

“Whyare you getting a divorce?”

Did I inhale sand? It sure feels like I did. I swallow, a few times.

Ryder’s arm wraps around my shoulders. “Now that you’re single. . . let’s talk.”

My apprehension drifts to Ridge again. He’s staring at Ryder’s arm, his jaw tight, the tips of his fingertips whiten around his beer, like he wants to rip it off. He raises the beer, takes a drink.