“Definitely not.”

“He’s grown up since I saw him last.”

“Yep.”

“Gained a few muscles too.”

I shoot him an annoyed look.

He chortles. “All right, how did the meeting go yesterday?” He’s referring to the second interview Stacy had lined up with a potential buyer.

“It went great!” I say with over-the-top enthusiasm.

“Really?”

“Until he told me he’d pay a little more if I’d make out with him before he left.”

“Ouch. Did he bleed when you punched him?”

“I didn’t want to risk hurting my knuckles before the wedding, so I just left a nice slap mark on his cheek instead.”

Jake nods like he’s not even surprised. He knows me too well to be surprised by anything I do. “So where does this leave you now?”

“Square one. But I think Stacy is doing it on purpose—lining up bad potential buyers.”

Jake frowns. “Why?”

“She wants me to buy her half and become full owner.”

I resist looking at Jake. I know what I’ll see when I do. He’ll be all smiles and encouragement because I think he truly believes I’d be good at running Darlin’ Donuts without a partner. I wish I shared his confidence.

“Why don’t you?”

Thankfully, we get interrupted, and I don’t have to answer the questions that have been haunting me since Stacy first proposed it. Why don’t you? What am I so afraid of? Really, though, that second question can be applied to two areas of my life. And one of them is walking into my living room with a smile that makes my stomach swoop. Sam keeps stealing glances at Ryan, and I think her stomach is swooping too. Thank god he put his shirt back on.

Jake stands and says he’s got to get going. He’s leaving Sam with me for the afternoon because he needs to go into the office for a few hours. And THANK GOODNESS, because I do not trust myself to be alone with Ryan for several hours after the morning we had together.

Just before Jake leaves, he turns back to Ryan with a big smile, and they shake hands. It’s odd to me for two reasons: (1) Jake knows all about the lifelong feud between Ryan and me and looks much too pleased to be shaking his hand, and (2) the last time I saw them together was at graduation, and Jake looked so much older than Ryan. Now, they’re just two adults shaking hands.

When did we all grow up?

“It was really good to see you again, Ryan,” says Jake, and what the hell?!

Given all that I’ve told him about Ryan over the years, he should not think it’s really good to see the man.

“Is it, though?” I ask with narrowed eyes, wondering if maybe Jake is just stalling while one of his friends TPs Ryan’s car outside. Is it wrong that I kinda hope for that?

Jake grins. “Of course. Anytime another guy helps protect my little sister, he earns my respect for life.”

I look between Ryan and Jake, wondering what I’m missing. “Protect?”

Jake gives Ryan a conspiratorial look. “I’ll let you tell her. I’ve gotta get going.” He kisses Sam, pats Daisy’s head, and then leaves.

I turn to Ryan with my hands on my hips. He doesn’t look intimidated (of course), so I tell Sam to do it too. Now he should be terrified. Ryan has two Broaden girls standing in the Wonder Woman pose, and we mean business.

He looks at Sam, and I can see the moment his chocolate eyes hypnotize my preteen niece. “Your aunt is ridiculous. You know that, right?”

Sam’s arms fall at her sides, and she smiles sheepishly from below her lashes. “Yeah. She’s pretty silly a lot,” says the little traitor, who will never get to borrow my pink lipstick again. And good luck having me cover for you when you’re sixteen and out late with a boy! No more cool Aunt June for you, missy.

I pick up a pillow and throw it at Ryan’s head. “Tell me what you did.”

He laughs, dodging my attack. “Let’s just say on your sixteenth birthday when your boyfriend’s tires mysteriously deflated, it wasn’t so mysterious to me.”

“I knew you did that! Especially after you were the one to show up out of nowhere and so kindly offer me a ride home, but you made Isaac stay and wait for the tow truck!”

“It wasn’t just me. Jake helped.”

“What?” Tension is growing in my shoulders. “Why?”

“Earlier that day, I overheard Isaac and his buddies in the locker room. They had all placed a bet on whether he could…” He pauses and looks down at Sam, who is hanging on Ryan’s every word like he’s giving the exact directions to Shawn Mendes’s personal residence. Ryan looks back up at me and adjusts whatever he was going to say. “Well, they bet on whether he could deflower you that night.”

My jaw drops, and thankfully, Sam is oblivious. “Why would your boyfriend want to take your flowers?”

Ryan smiles, and his dimple tells me he thinks Sam is adorable. “Some not nice guys really like to take girls’ flowers.”

“That sounds so mean.”

“It is. Stay away from those guys,” says Ryan, tousling the top of Sam’s hair. Heart emojis fill her eyes. She’s dropping into full-blown crush mode.

I stare at Ryan, and he must see the panic building in me, because he asks Sam to go into the kitchen and wash her hands because he’s going to show her how to properly cut a potato. She better get the same boring lesson I got.

“How did Jake come into play in all this?” I ask the second Sam turns the corner into the kitchen.

“I told him as soon as I found out. His suggestion was that we go beat the hell out of Isaac, but I convinced him to help me slash his tires instead so I could take you home before anything happened. Figured it would be less embarrassing for you than your brother beating up your first real boyfriend. And you broke up with him shortly after, so it all worked out.”

Mm-hmm, yeah, he’s just talking and going on and on like my perception of him isn’t suddenly turning on its end. I need to go lie down. There have been too many revelations today.

I fix my gaze on Ryan, and I take in his strong jaw, dark eyes, long lashes, and the small scar on the apple of his cheek from the pop fly that almost broke his cheekbone sophomore year. I trace a line from his straight nose to his lips and scruffy jawline (yet another sign that he’s no longer the boy from high school). I’m taking in every inch of his face because I feel like I’m finally seeing him for who he really is—seeing him—the whole picture of Ryan for the first time.

“What?” he finally asks, a cautious look on his face.

I smile and shake my head. “You never were the bad guy, were you?”

The air shifts when a mischievous glint sparks in Ryan’s eyes. I stay still as he crosses the room, stops in front of me, and leans toward my ear. I’m bracing for him to tell me I have toilet paper sticking out of somewhere it shouldn’t be when I feel his hot lips land on the area just behind my jaw, below my ear. Chill bumps roll down my arms.

And then he whispers, “I was definitely the bad guy. I just wasn’t against you like you thought.”

—