Whenever she was close to him like this, she felt warm. Hot, even. And tight, like her skin had shrunk and her body didn’t fit inside it.

She sighed, hating this big, fat crush she had on him. If he knew, he’d vanish from her life. She knew it, so she kept her damn infatuation to herself. “Hungry?”

Eyes still closed, his lips curved. “Always.”

She laughed a little. This wasn’t a lie, the guy was truly always starving, like he was hollow on the inside and nothing could fill him up.

She reached across Dylan for the pack of crackers she had on her nightstand. Her arm brushed his and she felt a tingle make its way through her body. “Here,” she said, dipping the cracker first into the peanut butter and then the jelly, and holding it out to him.

He opened his eyes and then smiled. “PB and J for dinner.”

“Is there anything better?”

“No.” He sat up gingerly enough that she worried he’d been hurt elsewhere as well, but when he saw the look on her face, his eyes went dark. “Don’t,” he said and took the cracker, shoving the whole thing in his mouth.

“But—”

“Not talking about it, Tee.”

They dipped crackers into the peanut butter and jelly until they were both full. Actually, she got full right away but she didn’t want him to stop until he was full as well, so she totally overate.

And then had to open the top button on her jeans.

After, Dylan pulled her down with him to the bed again and closed his eyes. She thought that she couldn’t think of another place she’d rather be. She wanted them to grow up and still do this, still be like this. She’d be an artist and he’d be . . . “Dylan?” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want to be when you get older?”

“Alive.”

Her heart pinched. “I mean as a job.”

His hand squeezed hers. “It doesn’t matter,” he said a little dully.

She knew what that meant. He didn’t see himself making it out, and that made her so sad that she couldn’t speak for a long moment.

As if he knew he’d brought her down, he stirred himself and changed the subject. “Did you finish your biology homework?”

“Shh,” she said. “I’m sleeping.”

“Tee.”

“You can help me tomorrow,” she murmured softly, letting herself relax against him, purposely letting him think she was exhausted.

She felt when the tension finally left him and he fell asleep. Only then did she allow her eyes to close. She was comfortable and she should’ve been thrilled because she never slept as well as she did when he was in her bed. But worry for him kept her up long after he’d drifted off.

Worry for him, and also guilt. She’d been a jerk to Quinn today and she hated that. But she had to get rid of her, had to chase her away. Because one, Quinn would never stay in Wildstone. She was city through and through. So if for some reason, out of guilt, she decided to take on guardianship of Tilly and then left . . .

Well, then Tilly would have to leave Wildstone as well.

And that wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t know that Chuck could be on his own, even with Kendall around. And then there was Dylan. He needed her. They both did. She had to stay and take care of them, and tightening her arm around Dylan’s chest, she snuggled in closer.

Nope, she wasn’t leaving. Ever.

NOTHING HAPPENED THAT night. Quinn didn’t hear from Tilly. Or Mick.

Or Beth . . .

The next morning she texted Tilly: You need anything, anything at all, you call me. Day or night.

She didn’t text Mick. Instead, she packed up and checked out of the Wild West B & B . . . and found him in the parking lot.

He was slouched against her car, arms folded over his strong chest, dark lenses covering his eyes, and just looking at him had all her good spots doing the happy dance.

He was turned away from her, looking at Coop, who was sitting at the base of a huge oak tree, staring up at a squirrel.

The dog gave one low, rough bark.

“No,” Mick said. Then more quietly, “We talked about this. Squirrels are not your friend, man. You got beaned in the head last time, remember? Hard enough to rattle half the thoughts right out of your head.”

Coop heaved out a sigh and lay down, but he kept his eyes on the prize.

Mick’s eyes locked in on Quinn, the expression in them matching Coop’s as he kept the squirrel in sight.

Grim determination.

Quinn’s feet faltered. What to do? Be a grown-up? Or run like hell? She blew out a breath and walked up to him.

His lips quirked slightly, like maybe he’d sensed her inner civil war. Then he pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself,” she said. He seemed impossibly large and unyielding. And slightly wary.

Although she’d never tell him so, she thought maybe she liked him best this way, a little worn and rough around the edges.

He was so different from any man she’d ever met.

“So about yesterday,” she murmured and then hesitated, biting her lower lip. “I might’ve overreacted.”

“And I might’ve been a dumbass.”

A small smiled escaped her. “Were you waiting for me?” she asked. “Because I thought I was pretty forceful about us being done.” She let her voice hold a playful note as she tried to convey that she realized she’d been a complete bitch.

Mick grabbed the ends of her scarf and reeled her in, looking into her eyes. “I should’ve left things alone, let you go back to L.A. in peace. It would’ve made things easier.”

“But . . . you couldn’t do it?” she asked.

“I could.” There was no sign of amusement now. “Discipline runs deep, Quinn. And you’d definitely be better off without me. But . . .” He shook his head. “I kept picturing the look on your face yesterday morning. I hurt you, and I couldn’t leave it like that.”

“Consider it forgotten,” she said, and meant it. “No hard feelings.”

His phone rang and he ignored it, just staring at her.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m leaving too,” he said.

“Oh.” She nodded and did her best to shrug off any disappointment. He was going home and she’d be doing the same, and they might not see each other again. “Then I’m glad I got to see you before you left,” she said, managing to sound completely fine with this good-bye.

But she wasn’t fine. Not even close. “Good-bye, Mick.”

Still holding the ends of her scarf, he lowered his head and kissed her. Soft at first, and then with heat and purpose so that she was breathless by the time he pulled back.

And so was he.

“Bye, Quinn,” he said quietly, and then he and Coop were gone.

She told herself she was fine with that. Hell, she’d said so many good-byes lately, she was a pro.

Chapter 16

Are you there, God? It’s me, what the actual fuck?

—from “The Mixed-Up Files of Tilly Adams’s Journal”

It took Quinn two days of being back in L.A. to realize that Beth wasn’t going to show up on her TV, or from inside her closet, or anywhere in her condo.