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Then again, she also knows more about me than I care to show. Such as…

“So spill. Arepas and,” she pokes her finger at the plate of tostones, fried plantain chips, “this, I always forget its name. You’re in deep culinary heaven. Ergo, you’re in deep thinking hell.” She huffs and leans back in her chair. “I knew there was boy trouble.”

I roll my eyes and tug on my ponytail. Yeah, boy trouble. Tyler. I never felt pretty until he looked at me that way, and although Tessa always tells me the boys stare at me, and I get my fair share of compliments and being asked out, I only started to believe it when he held me and told me he loved me when I was fifteen.

He’d said that. But then he’d started acting weird and distant, and then I snapped. I know now about his Dad, and I also know why I said those things, why I snapped, but I wish… I wish I hadn’t. I wish I hadn’t hurt him like that. I wish he’d stayed.

I wish so many things.

Too late. I always see clearly when it’s already too late.

“Hey. Earth to Erin.” Tessa is waving a hand in front of my face, her blue eyes narrow. “Enough dancing around the topic, girl. Spill.”

Oh, what the hell. I can’t deny it any longer. Tyler’s presence in town is screwing with my head. “I need to talk to Tyler. There are some things we need to discuss.”

“A few things.” Tessa takes a plantain chip and chews thoughtfully. “You want him. Admit it.”

So what if I do? It’s not happening again. “He just owes me an explanation.”

She licks her fingers. “You mean you still haven’t talked?”

I shake my head and get up to take the arepas out of the oven. “I called, but he didn’t pick up the phone.”

“Then call again.” She’s looking at me earnestly when I return to the table. “Seriously, Erin.”

“Says the one who refuses to even talk about her own crush.”

“That’s different.”

“No, it isn’t.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “We aren’t talking about me. We’re not even talking about you. Tyler, girl. We’re talking about him. I’m not into the dark, brooding kind, you know that, but come on, be honest.”

“What about?”

She winks. “You want him.”

“Whatever.”

“This Jax is mostly absent and sounds like a whiny brat. You need a real man in your life—and your bed. Someone to make you scream with pleasure, and I bet Tyler will.”

My face flames. “Stop it. That’s not what this is about.”

“Isn’t it? He looks smoking hot. Prime boyfriend material.”

“No, he isn’t.” I’m not ready to tell her everything, not yet. Not before I talk to Tyler—perhaps not ever. I’ve lived in my private little sphere for so long, behind a wall of white lies and pretensions, that I’m not sure I want to tear it down and start anew. The wall protected me from the world, ensured my sanity. Am I strong enough now to come clean? If you asked me a month ago, I’d say no way in hell.

And now Tyler’s here, and my walls are still up.

“Erin?”

“I’ve made a list for what I want in a boyfriend,” I say, hoping to distract her.

“A list,” she says flatly, studying her nails.

“Yes.” I’m not kidding. I made it as soon as I got my feet under me, a year or so after Tyler left. It got me through bouts of darkness I thought would never lift, gave me hope that I knew how to proceed in my life from then on. It worked, until now.

“Do share.” Tessa grins and grabs another chip. “Although I don’t see the connection to Tyler, I think I may be in need of such a list.”

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