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Hearing her name has my spine straightening and my hair standing on end. “So, it’s like that?”

“Yeah, Cash, it is,” Drake says solemnly.

Glancing around the room, I feel caged and cornered. “Can’t say I’m really feeling that right now.”

“Oh, baby. You need to listen to your friends,” Mom supplies.

“Do I? Why are you and Jake even here?

“I’m here because when I ran into Drake at the store the other day, I mentioned not hearing from you, and being the sweet boy that he is, he informed me as to why. I’m not gonna let you throw this girl and her baby away over some little misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, because being lied to for a month and catching her lip-locked with her ex is some ‘little misunderstanding’,” I tell her using air-quotes. “And why are you here, Jake?”

“I’m just here for the show, brother.”Fucking asshole.

“Of course you are.” Shaking my head, I slump down, resting my elbows on my knees. “Let’s just get this shit-show on the road, yeah?”

“Be glad everyone else favored talking sense into you. My idea was to beat it into you.”

“Thanks, Simon. Really, thanks.” My sarcasm drips, coating the room.

Simon bolts from his chair. “I’d be more than happy to beat the shit outta you. Follow through on my promise—I told you not to hurt her.”

I laugh a dry, hollow laugh. “Me, hurt her? Riiiight.”

Simon lunges at me, and I’m up from my seat lickity-split. “You wanna go there?”

“Damn right, I do,” Simon snarls, teeth bared.

We stand there, toe-to-toe, both ready and wanting for a fight. “It’s not my fault Myla Rose lied to me and went behind my back with that ass. Not my fault she couldn’t have her cake and—” Before I can finish my sentence, Simon decks me, the force knocking me back down into my chair. Rubbing a hand over my cheekbone, I wince from the pain.Fucker hits hard.

“Okay, boys,” my mom says, her voice scolding and full of mirth all at once, “Let’s all have a seat and say what we came to say.”

“Think I said all I need to,” Simon tells the group with a victorious smirk. As much as he pisses me off, and even though I’m still angry with Myla Rose, I’m glad she has him in her life. Such is the nature of the spell she’s cast on me. She rips apart my very soul, and I’m worried about her. Talk about pathetic.

Drake clears his throat. “Well, I haven’t. I’m not gonna say who’s right or wrong or pick sides. Y’all both messed up. However, with that said, you need to listen to her. Let her say her side. You don’t like what she has to say? Walk away. At least you’ll both have some closure.” I bristle at his words because I know—deep down—that he’s right.

“Baby, you need to let that sweet girl have the chance to explain herself. I know Kayla” —I groan at the mention of my ex— “did a real number on you, but Myla Rose isn’t Kayla. And even if this feels similar, that’s just your brain overriding your heart. Listen to your heart, Cash.” My mom, I swear. Such motherly advice, God love her.

“Listen, brother. You know how many times I almost lost Paige, but she was patient and stuck it out with me. Look at us now. Talk to your girl. You won’t regret it.”

Deep down, and I meanway deep, I know they’re right. Even more than that, once I look past my hurt, I know Myla Rose. Regardless of what I saw, she’s not capable of two-timing me. She’s not Kayla. There has to be an explanation.

After a long pause, I cut myself a big ole slice of humble pie and address this group of people that loves us both so much that they ambushed me. “Y’all are right. I know y’all are right. Guess I’ll give her a call.”

“No need. She’ll be here soon.” Yeah, that edge I was on? Pretty sure I just fell from it.

CHAPTER 43

MYLA ROSE

Despite my bestefforts to push the worry Azalea’s words caused from my mind, it lingered. The entire car ride, I obsessed over what themorecould possibly be.

When she turned down Drake’s drive, my worry eased a bit. At least until I saw a yard full of cars—familiar cars. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

“It’s not. Y’all need to talk. Go talk to him.”

“No, please, let’s just go.”