Page 108 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

“Yeah, maybe.” He shrugs. “It didn’t feel that simple at the time, though. Sometimes, I think—well, they haven’t ditched me yet, anyway.”

I’ve never seen Luke like this, his eyes distant, his expression forlorn and a little lost. He looks like a little boy again, the brother who did puzzles with me and read the Harry Potter books out loud to me, doing different silly voices for the characters.

Guilt lodges in my chest. Most of my guilt for Peppermint was because of how I hurt my friends, writing about their relationships. Maybe I should have worried more about my brother.

“I’m sorry, too. I was so angry with you that I went way too far with what I wrote.”

“Yeah,” he says flatly. “You did. I get that you were mad at me, but you didn’t have to go nuclear on my friends to get revenge.”

“That’s the thing. It wasn’t about revenge—or, it wasn’t all about revenge. You really hurt me, Luke. All of you were part of it, even Beau. I wanted to warn other women before you hurt them, too.”

“So you thought it was okay to tell the world about my sex life?” His voice is rougher, harsher. “You thought blasting Maura’s contract marriage didn’t hurt anyone? Or all the stuff about Nate and Ryan when they were dating your friends? Was what I did really so awful that it made you want to hurt people?”

“No. I might have wanted to hurt you in the beginning, but Peppermint stopped being about retaliation a long time ago. I know the damage I’ve caused. I cost you money, your reputation, and your relationships. You might have given me the ammunition, but I’m the one who loaded my weapon and pulled the trigger. I should have been more careful where I aimed. I’m so sorry, Luke. If I could undo it, I would.”

Luke looks at me. Really looks, like if he can see me from the right angle, he can tell what’s going on inside my head. Then he sits back in the chair.

“I believe you,” he says, “but it might take a little while for me to feel like it’s true.”

I nod. It feels fair. “Okay.”

Then it’s quiet again. I fiddle with a piece of my hair. It’s the closest thing to peace I’ve had with Luke for a long time, and I don’t want to ruin it already. But there’s one more thing I just have to know.

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you wait this long to apologize?”

“Honestly? I’ve always thought action is more important than words. I tried to show you I was sorry with the way I treated you.”

“Book club at the Copper Cup.” The pieces come together. “You were always there. You always read the book and took the most notes.”

“I read everything you put on the employee recommendation shelf, too,” he says. “Which means I’ve read more romance novels than I’d care to admit.”

“That’s sweet, Luke, really. The thing is, words do matter. Without an apology, there was no moving on for me.”

“I get it. I’m sorry. Sorrier than I could say.”

“I know.”

A few minutes of silent coffee sipping later, Ryan appears in the door with a gigantic bag of Doritos. He looks between the two of us.

“What did I miss?” he asks.

Luke and I exchange glances. I don’t know how to say that we’re halfway between a ceasefire and a peace agreement, not fully forgiven but somewhere on the road toward trying.

“Luke got me the world’s worst coffee,” I say.

Ryan sighs. “I guess revenge is best served with a bunch of grounds at the bottom of the cup.”

39

BEAU

One week after Maura was admitted to the hospital, Luke walks into Terrace.

Tomasso is the one who finds me in the kitchen, helping out at the grill. “Your friend is here,” he says. “The cute one with the blonde hair.”

I freeze, spatula in hand. “You’re sure it’s the blonde one?”