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“I say just burn it down,” Brody says.

“I don’t know,” Luke says. “The land is large enough, there’s no reason to keep the main building in the same place. In fact, it might make sense to put it further away from Henry’s property line. You could renovate this building and use it as something else. It’s historic.”

“Yeah, it’s its history we’re trying to forget.” Brody turns, throwing his hands in the air, and stops short when he almost runs into me. “Hey.”

I have to crane my neck to look at his face, and to be honest I’m still too embarrassed around him to look him in the eyes after the slightly drunken conversation we had where I was complaining about my sex life and he basically told me I wasn’t one-night-stand material.

I stare at his lips instead. They’re full and red from the sun, and I wonder if they’re soft or firm.

“Hey.” I somehow manage to get my thoughts together long enough to get the word out. I turn away from Brody, ignoring the way he’s intently looking down at me. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We figured out where to build our brewery,” Bryce says with a bright smile.

“That’s great.”

Blake and Bryce have been talking about the brewery for years. It’s about time they got started.

“We’re discussing whether or not to tear down this building,” Luke explains. “I say they should renovate it.”

“And I say that your name’s not on the deed, so you don’t get a vote.” Brody’s voice is so growly that it sends goosebumps down my back. He scowls at Luke, his sharp features making him look particularly menacing. So why does it make my belly flutter with excitement?

“Fine.” Luke raises his hands in surrender. “You asked for my opinion, I gave it. Now, I’m going home.”

“Luke,” Blake calls, walking after him, giving Brody a mean glare as he passes him.

“I have to go too,” Bryce says. “I’m working the evening shift.”

Brody nods. “Let’s go. I’ll drive you.”

I’m left staring at the old house by myself.

Wyatt told me all about the Wilsons’ place. He hated going there growing up. He said he never went past the front door if he could avoid it. He’d knock and ask if Blake could come out, and then the two of them would go run in the woods, or back to his house if the weather was bad. And more often than not, Bryce would tag along.

Wyatt never hung out with Brody though. He was a couple of years older and was too cool to hang out with a bunch of kids. Wyatt didn’t like Brody much, which makes my sudden weird attraction to him all the more bothersome. It feels like a betrayal.

What started as a fleeting comment on the day of the Dogwood Grove parade almost three months ago has turned into a secret obsession. Every time I go to bed these days, I picture Brody pulling me into his chest, I remember his smell, the feel of his strong fingers tightening around my arm, but instead of rejecting me like he did at the parade, he leans in and kisses me.

I groan. I have no right thinking about that now, standing next to Wyatt’s childhood home. I sit down on the porch steps and look up at the mountains.

Wyatt said that looking at those mountains was the only thing that kept Blake sane when his parents were fighting and throwing things.

“What’s got you so down?” Blake asks, making me jump.

He sits on the porch next to me.

“Just thinking about Wyatt,” I say, because I can’t tell him about my inappropriate crush on his brother.

“I can’t even tell you the number of hours Wyatt sat with me on this porch, looking up at those mountains.”

His face grows serious as he stares at those green peaks.

“I know.”

“It’s this place. It just brings everybody down. Maybe Brody is right and I should just burn it down.”

“I don’t mind the memories. I get sad when I think of Wyatt, it’s true, but my biggest fear is forgetting. I worry one day I won’t remember anything at all. Then he’ll really be gone.”

Blake is quiet for a long time. And when he does finally speak, his voice is low and hesitant. “He’s already really gone, Scarlett. And it’s not your responsibility to keep him alive. It’s not what Wyatt would have wanted. Your only responsibility now is to live your own life.”