“I know,” he says with a slow nod of his head. And even though there is guarded trepidation in his eyes, I don’t back down this time from our visual connection. Instead I let my eyes ask him everything I can’t say aloud or push him on further. “You two look so peaceful and perfect together. I just don’t want to disturb you.”

And as much as I know he’s being honest in his response, I also know he’s using it to distract me from delving deeper into his nonchalance.

Talk to me, Colton. Tell me what’s going on in that wonderful, complicated, scarred, scared, beautiful mind of yours.

I want to reassure him, tell him he’s not going to drop Ace, harm him, or taint his innocence, and yet I don’t think there is anything I can say that will lessen his unease.

Give him time, Rylee.


THIS CAN’T BE REAL. I know it can’t be.