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The few minutes of sleep I managed to get were filled with wild and vivid dreams that left me drenched every time I woke up. The last one, around two in the morning, was the worst of them all. It was a slideshow of Ella and me, of our nearly four years as high school sweethearts.

Carol and I had been friends since we were babies.

Our moms were best friends, had been since their childhood.

So, Carol and I grew up like cousins or brother and sister.

We spent vacations and holidays together and met up at least once or twice a week the rest of the time.

We went to different grammar and middle schools, and it was sometime over those eight years that Carol met Ella, and they became best friends.

I heard Ella’s name mentioned countless times, but as life would have it, I didn't meet her until the first day of high school. In our small town, there was only one.

The moment I finally did meet Ella, I knew she was the one . People laughed at that. They called it puppy love, said we were fourteen, that there was no way I could know that one day I would marry her. But I knew. Thorne, my inner bear… not so much.

He took one look at her, narrowed his big, fuzzy, judgmental eyes, and muttered something like, You imprinted on a girl who smells like bubblegum ?

I ignored him because, at his words, my stomach did something I was pretty sure wasn’t medically normal. He didn't let up, though. No fur, no claws, smells like fruit snacks and nervous energy, he grumbled . We’re not doing this.

But I was already doing it. I was all in. Thorne growled something about poor decision-making and went quiet—for a few hours. Then he came back with opinions. So many opinions. He hasn’t shut up since.

I mostly ignored him and his barbs. He and Ella never officially met.

She knew I was a bear shifter; it wasn't a secret, but there was no reason for Thorne to come out when Ella and I were alone.

Especially since I got the impression that she was nervous about my other side , as she called it.

So when we were together, we pretended to be normal teenagers, doing normal teenage things.

An arrangement that suited all three of us just fine.

I took a long, cold shower— we're doing that again?

Thorne growled—to chase the ghosts of my dreams off.

Then I brewed a pot of coffee and went into my office, knowing that sleep wouldn't come again tonight, or maybe I was turning it away, trepidatious of what else I might dream of.

I turned on the computer and watched four screens come to life.

The first one showed me where I had left off on drawing the newest model house to be added to Cedar Hollow.

A two-story, five-bedroom, four-bathroom house, larger than the others, meant for a big family.

Something bothered me about it. I didn't like the way the entrance looked.

I lost myself in my work, erasing and drawing until the entire building was enclosed by a wrap-around porch.

There. When I reached for my coffee cup to take another sip and found it empty, I realized that it was already four in the morning.

I must have zonked out in front of the screen, like I often did when a project pulled me in.

And this one had. I realized that, at some point, I added a gas fireplace.

One built right into the wall between the master bed and bathroom.

Can you imagine a fireplace right there ?

Ella's voice echoed in my head. The memory was like a dagger stabbing my heart. She had just turned eighteen—six months after me—and we celebrated it by losing our virginities to each other. We had always known the day would come; we had planned for it. I booked a hotel room, and we told our parents we were sleeping over at Carol’s, who was fully onboard with our plan.

It was the most magical night of my life.

The hotel room had a fireplace in the bedroom, but at some point, in the middle of the night, Ella and I took a bath, and she pointed at the wall between the two rooms and said, Can you imagine a fireplace right there ?

And now I had just drawn one into the plans for a house. Shit, I was losing it. You think ? Thorne muttered inside me, his voice thick with disdain and something else I didn’t want to name . Next thing you know, we’ll be picking throw pillows and journaling about closure .

I rubbed a hand down my face.

You’re not subtle, by the way , he went on. You built her a fireplace. A fireplace. In a house you designed before sunrise. Might as well tattoo her name across the blueprints and howl about it.

I didn’t answer him. Mostly because he wasn’t wrong.

You ran into her yesterday , he added, his voice quieting some. And we haven’t slept since. That’s not nothing , Patrick .

I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair, the weight of memories pressing down on me like a second skin. No. It wasn’t nothing . But Thorne was in one of his moods, and I didn't feel up to analyzing my feelings right then, so I let it go.

A quick glimpse at the clock told me it was nearing five; well, okay, it was four fifteen in the morning. I decided I had given Carol enough time to sleep like a baby after the stunt she pulled on me yesterday, and I picked up my phone.

"Hmm, hello?" A sleepy voice answered.

I didn’t waste time. “Rise and shine, puppet master. I figured if I’m awake replaying the trauma you inflicted on me, the least you can do is suffer with me.”

There was a beat of silence. Then a long sigh. “Patrick, it’s four-fifteen in the morning.”

“Exactly. You should be asleep. Like I would be, if I hadn’t spent the night designing a damn house based on a girl I haven’t seen in ten years because you decided to play matchmaker-slash-developer-slash-life meddler.”

She groaned. “Okay, first of all: rude. Second, you make it sound like I tricked you into a murder-suicide pact. You’re opening a restaurant. Not marrying her.”

“You set me up.”

“I arranged a meeting,” she said calmly. “That you agreed to.”

“You didn’t tell me it was with Ella.”

“And would you have gone if I had?”

I wasn't sure how to reply to that one. Carol always had a way of twisting words to make me feel like the villain. Which was annoying.

She didn’t fill the silence. She never did. She just waited until I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s not your place to get involved in my life like this.”

“The hell it isn’t.” Her voice sharpened, as any trace of sleepy haze vanished like mist. “Patrick, I’ve been your best friend since before you had teeth. Don’t pull the boundaries card with me now.”

“Carol—”

“No. You listen.” She was fully awake now, and I could hear her sitting up in bed, probably pushing her tangled curls out of her face like she always did when she was gearing up to deliver a verbal spanking.

“Thorne has been a pain in the ass for years. Grouchy. Snappy. Restless. And don’t pretend you don’t know why. ”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

“You pushed her away,” she said. “And since then, you haven’t had a real relationship.

You haven’t let anyone get close. You’ve buried yourself in Cedar Hollow like it’s a mission from God, and sure, it’s a beautiful town.

You’ve done something amazing. But you’re building a place for families, Patrick.

Families . Not single shifter hermits with complicated emotional baggage. ”

Thorne let out a low snort inside me. That’s rich, coming from the woman who can't commit .

I ignored him.

“I’m not saying you need to marry her,” Carol continued, her tone a little softer now. “But you deserve a family, too. You deserve to be happy.”

“You don’t know what’s best for me.”

“No,” she said. “But I know what happened the last time I didn’t interfere in your life. After the injury. When you needed someone to push you, and I didn’t. I let you spiral.”

“That was different?—”

“It wasn’t.” Her voice cracked. “I’ve been blessed with two best friends.

And both of you are miserable. Ella pretends she’s fine, and you act like you’re married to your floor plans.

I’m not saying you have to fix it, Patrick; I’m not even saying you can.

But I am saying you owe it to both of you to try. ”

I swallowed hard, and the silence turned thick between us.

“I’ll meet with her,” I muttered.

Carol sighed. “Don’t do it for me. Do it because the bear inside you hasn’t shut up since she walked back into your life.”

There was a long pause, and then?—

She’s got some nerve , Thorne grumbled, grudging admiration coloring his tone. She's still my favorite, though .

I rolled my eyes. “You say that about everyone who feeds you.”

She’s the only one who gets away with bossing you around , he replied, and then a bit quieter, besides, she’s not wrong.

I didn’t respond to that.

Instead, I wished Carol a good morning, rest of the night , whatever, then stared at the empty coffee mug in my hand and wondered how I’d gotten here—sleep-deprived, haunted by memories I hadn’t thought about in years, and having a heart-to-heart with the grumpy creature living in my chest.

I pulled my phone closer, opened my messages, and stared at Ella’s name, still sitting in my contacts like it belonged.

I hadn’t texted her since high school. Even yesterday’s meeting had been a Carol-mediated ambush with business folders and not-so-subtle matchmaking tension. With a heavy sigh, I began typing:

Let me know when you’re free to look at the site.

I stared at it.

Deleted it.

Rewrote it.

The build is ready for a walk-through if you’re still interested. Let me know what works.

Still too stiff.

I deleted it again.

I can meet you in Cedar Hollow this week if you want to go over the layout in person.

Better.

I stared at the blinking cursor, thumb hovering over send.

Oh my God , Thorne groaned. Just send it. You’re not proposing. You’re scheduling a meeting. You used to fight wild boars without flinching, and now you’re afraid of punctuation.

“I’m trying to be professional,” I muttered.

You’re trying not to feel anything , he said. Big difference .

I hit send before I could second-guess myself again. The message whooshed away.

Too late now.

I tossed the phone on the desk and pushed away from the computer, heart thudding harder than it should have been for a simple text. Thorne was quiet for once—watchful, like he was bracing for something.

I was, too, I just wasn’t sure what I was bracing for.

But I had a feeling Ella Lambert was going to tear through whatever walls I had up like she’d never even left.