Clarke
Delia was waiting for me in the kitchen when I stepped into the Big House. She sat at the large island with her back to the door, her red hair spilling over her shoulders like a waterfall of fire.
Delia Hanson—granddaughter of the minister, raised on scripture and Sunday school—had somehow managed to land us in more trouble than I could count. She had the spirit of a wild mustang and the same restless urge to run.
But today, the sight of my best friend made my stomach sink. I had spent the past several days turning over my brother’s request—convincing Delia to marry him—and the more I thought about it, the more I hated the idea.
Colton was a great brother. The best I could’ve asked for.
But he’d had a different childhood than Melody and me.
He was the product of teen pregnancy—Mama barely sixteen, Dad almost eighteen.
They’d struggled. Nana and Poppa nearly cut Dad off, telling him he was throwing away his future.
Dad had threatened to throw his own father out of the house if he ever insulted his family again.
Poppa King never tried it twice. King boys were fiercely protective. And short-tempered. And hot-headed. Which was exactly why I didn’t want my best friend marrying one.
What would happen when they fought? When the honeymoon phase wore off? Delia was just as quick to start a fight as my brother—I’d seen it firsthand. She could hold her own, sure, but what if? What if Colton pushed too far? What if Delia said something she couldn’t take back?
I didn’t want to choose between my brother and my best friend.
But was it even my choice? Delia was grown. She could make her own decisions. Whatever she chose, I would stand by her—even if it wasn’t the choice I’d make for her.
The oak door clicked shut behind me, alerting the house dogs. A moment later, Roman and Tiberius barreled down the hallway —nearly three hundred pounds of Rottweiler enthusiasm—and smothered me in fur and wet kisses.
“Roman—Roman, get down!” I laughed as the larger one reared up, planting his paws on my chest. “Yes, I know, I love you too.”
He barked happily and nudged Tiberius, who nipped at his ear. Soon they were wrestling, paws thudding against the hardwood.
“Clarke!” Delia squealed, launching herself off the island and wrapping me in a tight hug. “Oh my God! Where is she?” Her green eyes darted past me toward the door, searching for Avalon. “She’s still here, right?”
I forced a tight smile. “Unfortunately, yes.”
I hugged her back, not wanting to let go. Delia was the only one who knew the truth about Avalon—the only one who’d seen me at my worst during those three long months.
She’d held my hair while I cried until I threw up. She’d convinced Mama I had the flu. If Avalon thought I was vengeful, she had no idea what Delia had imagined doing to her.
Delia Hanson was a devil with an angel’s face—and I loved her for it. She was the heat to my cold, the chaos to my calm. And I couldn’t let her fall victim to my brother’s charm.
“Well, it shouldn’t be long before she packs up and goes back to whatever multimillion-dollar Hollywood apartment she crawled out of.”
Delia’s smile stretched wide, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “I’ll make sure of that.”
I shook my head with a laugh. “No, Delia. Please don’t maim her. As much as I can’t stand her and would love for her to stop invading my space, I don’t want a lawsuit.”
Delia sighed dramatically and flopped onto the leather sofa. “Not even just a little bit?”
“No.”
I stood at the edge of the couch, fidgeting with my bracelets. I didn’t want to do this. Would it be selfish to never bring it up? If I said nothing, Colton would assume she’d rejected him. He’d move on—like he always did—and find someone else. Someone who wasn’t my best friend.
“Uh oh. What’s wrong?” Delia’s brows pinched together as she studied me. “You have that look again. Is it that little bitch? I’ll kill her—”
“Jesus, Lia, no.”
I shook my hands and finally sank onto the couch, leaving several inches between us—which she definitely noticed.
“Colton’s back.”
Delia froze. Her fingers paused mid-tuck behind her ear. A storm of emotions flickered across her face—too fast for me to read. And I could always read Delia. She was written in bold lettering.
“That’s great,” she said evenly. “I’m sure your parents are happy.”
I nodded, twisting the frayed edge of the blanket draped over the couch. “Mama’s thrilled to have her baby home. Dad put him to work immediately.”
I chuckled softly. No one expected him home so early—Pelican Fly Day was still two weeks away—but his arrival had been a pleasant surprise.
Mostly.
There was one detail about his return that twisted like a knife in my stomach.
Just say it.
“Are you happy he’s home?” Delia asked, staring at her palms. “I know how much you miss him when he’s away.”
“I love my brother,” I said. “You know that. I just—”
My voice faltered.
“He wants to get married this summer.”
Delia’s head snapped up, jealousy and anger flashing in her green eyes. “To fucking who?”
She sat back, running her hands down her legs as if trying to soothe herself.
“You have to tell me, Clarke. That fucking bastard.”
Confusion washed over me. This was not the reaction I expected. Jealousy, maybe—but not… tears?
“I—he—” I took a breath. “You.”
Delia let out a loud cackle, slapping her hands over her mouth. “Well, now I look stupid.”
I placed a hand on her knee. Her eyes dropped to it. “Did something happen between you two?”
Her pale skin flushed bright pink. “What? No—”
“Don’t lie. It’s written all over you.”
Delia groaned and buried her face in her hands, mumbling something I couldn’t make out.
“What?” I pried her hands away gently. “What happened? I won’t judge.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Last summer. When he visited for Pelican Fly Day.”
I remembered last summer—the shortest summer of my life. I’d been preparing for my sophomore album, scrambling for inspiration. Colton had been home, restless and clingy, constantly poking his head into my room, begging me to hang out. I’d been too busy. I told him no more times than I could count.
“Find someone else,” I’d said.
And I guess he had.
“He was at Patsy’s Bar,” Delia said softly. “Drinking with old friends. I think he got left behind or didn’t want to ride Demeter drunk. He wandered onto my parents’ property.”
Her eyes softened at the memory. “He scared the horses. Fell into the water trough. He was soaking wet when I found him, curls stuck to his face…”
Her voice drifted off. Thank God. I did not need to hear about how beautiful my brother looked.
“We kept seeing each other all summer,” she continued. “It was easy to keep it a secret since you were always working or preparing for the convention.”
She sighed. “I didn’t want to keep it from you. It’s just…”
I nodded sympathetically. I would’ve told her what I was thinking now—that Colt wasn’t good for her. That she deserved better.
Delia was beautiful, polished, educated, determined. She could have anyone she wanted. Why him? Why my brother?
Even as kids, her obsession with him had baffled me. Maybe because I lived with him—I saw the parts he hid from her. The parts he hid from everyone.
Would she still love him when she saw those parts?
Would he let her?
“I understand,” I said softly, squeezing her hand. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t around much last summer. I didn’t mean to leave you with only him for company.”
“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the best summer of my life,” Delia whispered, tangling our fingers together. “He’s all I’ve ever wanted, Clarke. And last summer, I had him.”
Her orange brows furrowed together, deepening the wrinkles across her forehead. “And then he went back to Nashville, and it was as if what we had shared had never happened. I’ve been trying to get him to talk to me, but whatever door opened last year was locked shut.”
That—that—was my brother. Disappearing. Leaving. Never talking things out. Never explaining. And the girls he left behind always paid the price. There was a particular shame that came with being involved with Colton King.
“I’m sorry,” I said, letting out a humorless laugh. “Had I known, I would’ve kicked his ass or dragged him back to Texas by his hair.”
I was trying really, really hard not to get up from the couch and storm straight into his homestead. Delia wasn’t just another one of his conquests, another buckle bunny Avalon had joked about days ago. He knew Delia. He’d grown up with her. And he still—
The thought made something hot and sharp twist in my chest.