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Acoupleofhourslater, I find myself sinking into the comfy couch in my living room as the sound of the phone ringing echoes through the otherwise empty space. It takes several rings before Will answers, the video call connecting a moment later. On instinct, I smile as his image comes into focus, but it diminishes with the blank look on his face.

“Hey!” My voice is overly perky, even to my own ears. He smooths a hand over his short, reddish-brown hair, which he must have recently buzzed again, because it wasn’t like that last week when we did this. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Tired.” Those two words are the only response he offers, staring expectantly.

“Have your shifts been long?”

I can hear him tapping against the table impatiently. “I’m an ER doctor at a trauma hospital in a major US city, Katrina. What do you think?”

I sink further back into the couch, cheeks flushing. “Right. Stupid question.”

He snorts. “You think?”

Biting my lip, I glance around the living room to find something to focus on. Something that will keep the tears at bay.

He notices, though, because he lets out a groan. When I look back at the phone, he’s rubbing at his temples. “Don’t cry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

It’s not an apology, but it’s the closest I’ll ever get. “It’s fine.”

Fine. God, I hate that word. Everything in my life is fine. My job is fine. My relationship is fine. They’re all stagnant and fine. Except, for the first time in a long time, I’m feeling the itch beneath my skin to change that. To make my life better than fine, even if I’m not sure how.

“How’s the project going?” I’m not surprised that he changes the subject instead of offering me any comfort or trying to fix what he’d done. “Have you finished demo?”

I play with the edge of my sweatshirt as I nod. “They’ve already started replacing the outdoor pool, since that’s the area we’re focusing on first. That’s the first step and then we’ll build everything out around it. That should be done by the end of February, weather permitting.”

He nods while his gaze is focused somewhere else. Maybe his computer or tablet is off the screen. “That’s good.”

Nothing else, no further questions asked. I guess I have to keep talking. “It’s been nice having Bryce’s girlfriend around. I have someone to talk to and hang out with on the weekends.”

He looks at the camera. “Are you and Clark not getting along?”

Will and I haven’t talked since the disastrous fight earlier in the week, and I don’t feel the need to bring it up now. It’s been taken care of. The only person I need to talk things out with is Carter, and I’m still not sure how to approach that conversation. “We get along fine. We just tackle things differently.”

“He’s a jackass,” Will scoffs.

If he had asked me a week ago, I would have agreed with Will, but now I’m not so sure. There’s something about Bryce Clark that I can’t put my finger on, but I think he cares deeply about his friends. The way he jumped to Carter’s defense was more about being his friend than an athlete, and the whole thing with Mia seems weird. Josie has told me how much Mia enjoys her job in Charlotte. To suddenly have her moving here, working for them, makes me think there’s more to the story than I’m being told.

“I wouldn’t say that. I think he just knows what he wants.” It isn’t a lie because Bryce isn’t afraid of letting his opinion be known. “He and his girlfriend are looking for houses here in Columbia. They want to settle down and start establishing some roots. I offered to help while I’m here.”

His focus was on something off camera again. “How much are they paying you for that?”

“Nothing.” The thought of asking for money for this never even occurred to me. “I’m not doing it for the money. I’m doing it to help friends out.”

He’s shaking his head. “That’s your problem, Katrina. You don’t know the difference between work and fun. They’re not your friends, they’re clients. If they have another project they want your assistance on, then you should be compensated for that.”

I fist my hand in the sleeve of my sweatshirt, gritting my teeth. “It’s not like that, Will. I’m doing it for his girlfriend. She’s been wonderful.”

“What will your father say when he finds out?” Will questions. “You’re still being a representative of Dalton Enterprises.”

“Stepfather,” I grit out. I might not have a clue who my biological father is, but Thomas Dalton has never been my father. Not the way he should have been, and I refuse to claim him as such now. “And I don’t care what he thinks.”

Will’s laugh sounds as mean as he intends it to. “Keep telling yourself that, Katrina.”

“I need to go, Will,” I snap, fighting back the urge to cry and be sick. Why did he have to call out all my insecurities? “I have to get some sleep.”

He doesn’t press me. Doesn’t mock the fact that I don’t usually sleep all that well and can never fall asleep before midnight like I expect him to. Instead, he just smiles, like he’s accomplished all he wanted to. “Sounds good. I’ll talk to you later.”

I nod. “I lov—”