to succeed, it needs to build trust with its clients. Why should companies put their money with someone who they cannot trust?"

Dalha darted a glance at Cato before continuing to talk while rapidly typing.

"Did you know that the Bailey Investment Corporation has publicly backed a well-known advocate group for road safety for the past six years or so? A group that has specifically focused on drunk driving?"

My stomach turned. No, I hadn't known that. I definitely hadn't known that.

But I also hadn't known that Beau's mom would sit down and start talking to me about the Baileys. About drunk driving. About trust.

I twisted to give Beau a look, but it only took a second to realize that he was just as shocked as I.

"Mom—" he choked out.

Dalha ignored him.

"Public do-good campaigns drive trust. They find a common ground amongst parties by showing support for things that many others also support. So, of course, it would be a PR nightmare if it got out that James Bailey crashed into his own son while driving drunk. But do you know what would be an even worse PR nightmare?"

She lowered her voice and paused the chattering of her nails against the keys to give me a meaningful look. "If years later, investors learned that Bailey Corp pinned the cause of a drunk driving accident on a high school student. And not any high school student, but a close family friend. An absolute disaster." She tutted. "That would be an absolute disaster."

I flushed as my heart pounded in my chest. It was an absolute disaster. But I'd never thought of it like that—that they were more concerned with hiding the cover-up than what happened in the first place. And I'd always known they were worried about public opinion, but I hadn't thought about how that correlated so closely with their business.

Mrs. Martin turned toward Beau, ready to give him her attention.

"Beau," she said, sharp. But as she continued, warmth leaked into her words, explaining everything I needed to know about how she raised Beau. "I do realize that I taught you to be generous, but this is not how you do it. You must be plentiful with your time and resources to do good."

Beau once again opened his mouth to comment, but his mom kept going, getting the last word in.

"Yes, I know you think what you are doing is good, but not when you are backing a corporation that does not deserve to be backed."

"I wasn't going to back them," Beau said with an exasperated sigh. "I was trying to pay them off. There's a difference."

"Is there?" One brow arched high on Dalha's face. "Where you put your money speaks volumes about what you support. We don't pay off people who deserve to be cut down, Beau Martin."

Beau clenched his jaw, and a slight twitching gave away his irritation. "How do you even know about all this?"

His eyes darted to me, making sure I knew it wasn't him.

I knew it wasn't him. I could tell it wasn't him.

Because as much as Beau liked to help others, he rarely liked to ask for help.

He was my favorite little hypocrite.

"Can you blame a woman for looking online to see if her son posted any pictures of his new girlfriend?" Dalha gave Beau a pointed look, switching from boss to mom mode. "I loan you a private jet, and you don't even have the decency to send me a picture of the two of you on a beach?"

She sighed raggedly before shaking her head and getting back to business. "Anyway, when I tried searching online and instead saw Collins' name mixed with the Bailey's in articles from the accident, it drew my attention. And then I connected the dots about why Miles told me you were preparing to withdraw millions."

"Miles?" I repeated, mulling over a name I hadn't heard before.

"Our banker," Beau filled in dryly, looking increasingly frustrated as the moments passed.

I could tell it was partly because he wanted to close the distance between us. He wanted to be by my side. But with our argument earlier and his mom's intervention, he didn't dare make a move. He kept shifting between feet near the door to the patio. Cato, at least, had collapsed onto the couch as he watched the proceedings.

"They profited over your cover-up, Collins," Mrs. Martin said, drawing my attention. Her tone was softer now that she was looking at me. "You weren't drinking, but it was still a driving-related accident, and they used it as a tragedy that only drummed up sympathy for them. To further attach themselves to a cause that they personally had violated. And now they've continued to hold everything over your head. Haven't they?"

I nodded as her words sank in. They sank all the way to my toes, which tingled with the need to do something.

I'd stood still for so many years. I stayed in Fresno for years because of the Baileys. I didn't visit my family, didn't even put a foot across the state border, and it was all because of them.

"Are you ready to cut ties?"

The question, spoken in a gentle but firm way, came from Beau's mom.

It was a question that Beau had never even dared to ask. But the answer was obvious.

"I've been trying to cut ties for years."

She nodded, giving me a proud smile that sunk to my core. She didn't even know me, but I could feel how invested she was in this. In me. And it made me feel like I was floating. Like I could do anything.

"Then I think today is a good day to sever that connection," she said. "What do you think?"

What did I think?

The room started to spin as I realized what a long way down it was to jump from up here. From where I was floating. I'd been trying to cut ties for years, but was I ready? God, it had been such a long day, and I—

"I just...I need a minute."

The words scratched against my throat, and I tried not to look at Beau's mom after I said them. I didn't want her to be disappointed in my lack of confidence. Confidence that she so clearly bred in her household.

I walked quickly back out of the house, gulping in the fresh air and letting the wind swirl my curls into my face, making it hard to see my steps as I strode out of sight of the windows to the far end of the deck. I needed to hide—just for a moment. I needed to put as much space between talk of the Baileys and me as physically possible.

But if what Beau's mom was saying was true, just a little more—a little more talk and maybe a little more action—and I would be done forever?

I would get all the space in the world if I only endured a little more of them and this conversation.

"Baby."

Relief threaded through my veins at the sound of Beau's voice. I could be as mad at him as I wanted, but my body only ever felt a certain way when he was near.

His hand smoothed over my back. "Are you okay?"

I closed my eyes. "Of course I'm not okay, Beau."

A pause. "I'll tell my mom to leave. She should have never—"

"No!" I erupted, eyes flashing open to find Beau's uncertain expression staring back at me. "No, you should have never, Beau. You should have never tried to do anything without me. At least your mom has the decency to ask if this is something that I want. She's not... she's not pretending to know what's best for me."

Beau's breathing deepened, and it took him a few seconds to be able to reply.

"Do you want it, Collins?"

I nodded, trying to ignore the few tears that had begun rolling down my face. I did want it. I wanted all of this to be over. I couldn't deny that.

Beau mimicked me, nodding knowingly.

"Before all this, would you have told me that you wanted it? Or would you have lied to keep me out of it?" When I was quiet, Beau added, "I knew you wanted it. And it seemed to me that the only barrier to having it was that you didn't want me to sacrifice anything for you. For this."

"Beau," I said, my voice broken by my tears. "Sometimes it's okay to leave things alone. You don't always need to fix everything. You don't always need to prove to people that you're a knight in shining armor."

"You think that's what this is about?" he breathed, almost a hiss. I heard the disbelief there, and it caused me to look up. His eyes shone in the dark, their deep inkiness blending with the night. "You think I was going to hand over my trust fund because I have some innate need to swoop in and save people?"

I blinked. "Of course I do, Beau. It's what you do. It's who you are. For everyone."

He began shaking his head, and I watched the fight rise on his face. Heat flared in his expression, giving me goosebumps despite the hot night air. "Nah, baby girl. You got it twisted."

I turned to face him. "And how do I have it twisted?"

Beau fought not to roll his eyes. "Do I try my best to be there for the people I care about? Yes. Of course I do. But I have limits."

I didn't even bother fighting it. I rolled my eyes. "No, you don't, Beau."

"I do." He nodded solemnly. "For everyone...but you."

The distant waves were the only thing disrupting the silence between us. I could feel the push and pull of the ocean in the flip in my stomach.

"I have limits, Collins," Beau added softly. "But they don't apply to you."

I sucked in. And then managed to breathe one word. "Why?"

Beau threw his hands up in the air like the answer was obvious. But when he saw me still staring at him, waiting for an answer I was desperate to hear, he took a swift step into me. He cupped my face, forcing me to look at him, into his pleading eyes that told me exactly what he was about to say. His thumbs swept over my cheeks, wiping at the leftover tears on them.

"Because I'm in love with you," he groaned. "Because I'm in love, and I would do anything, anything, for you."

The words were so heavy and so strong and so perfect that my eyes closed from the weight of them. Beau's lips brushed over mine tentatively, his hands shaking from holding back more. I ached, wanting that kiss. The more. That different sort of kiss that I knew he wanted to give me. Because I wanted him, too. I loved him, too.

But there was so much. There was so much weight today, and my words wouldn't come. Everything that happened had pushed them down even farther than normal, burying them beneath the tangle of emotions. And I didn't have the strength to sink to find them, those words.

And for once, Beau didn't make me.

"I need you to understand that, Collins," he breathed across my lips, content to keep talking for me. "Because I don't see myself ever not loving you. Let me tell ya, baby girl. I tried really hard there for a little bit, and it's impossible. Me not loving you? No pages in any book have that in writing. On every page where there's a you and there's a me... I'm loving you, Collins Bryant."

"Beau," I choked, and his lips covered mine to cut off words he knew I didn't have today. He kissed me bruisingly, but I kissed him back harder so he knew I was on the same page. I was on the same goddamn page.

But there were other pages, too—other parts of the story that we hadn't found that same page to be on yet. And I didn't know how to split myself that way.

I wretched my lips off his. And begged.

"If the limits don't apply to me, then I need you to love me enough to let me decide, too," I said, gasping. "I need you to love me enough to wait until I'm ready. To do things with me and not for me."

"Collins, but—"

"There are no buts, Beau!" Frustrated, I grabbed onto the deck railing, wrapping my fingers around it and holding on for dear life. "I need you to love me enough to walk back inside together and let me decide if I'm ready. To let it go if I say I'm not."

He crowded me, bringing his lips to my forehead slowly. I felt him nod. "It's so hard for me." His voice was barely audible. "It's so hard to accept something when I know you might get hurt."

It was. It really was, I realized. Pain filled his voice, making it hard for me to breathe. Because I didn't want to hurt Beau. Ever. I distanced this entire thing from him for so long because I was worried the Baileys would be the ones who hurt Beau. But at this moment, I realized. By doing that, the only one hurting Beau...was me.

"I know," I whispered, reluctantly turning away.

I didn't want to hurt Beau anymore. I couldn't. God, I loved him so much that hearing his desperation made my heart crack open.

He still shouldn't have done what he had. And that betrayal chipped away at me in the most nagging, uncomfortable way.

There would be time for that later, though. Tonight I had old friends and new enemies to face.

Squaring my shoulders, I slipped back into the house where Mrs. Martin was waiting for me.

And I finally got the words out.

"I'm ready."

✨

beau loves collins

collins loves beau

and I love you

🫶🫶🫶

xoxoxo