He squeezes my butt and whispers, “Took the edge off.” He grins, and I quickly swat at his chest as he laughs.

Setting me down, he turns to Griffin and pulls him into a hug, offering him congratulations before doing the same for Claire.

“You’re getting married! Does that mean I’m your best man?”

“I don’t know . . .” Griffin frowns contemplatively. “I was thinking about asking Reid.”

Rogan scoffs. “So he’s finally come out of his room?”

“I’m hoping by the wedding.” We all laugh and head toward our cars. “Where should we go?”

“Want to take them to Dinosaur BBQ?” I ask, knowing it’s one of Rogan’s favorite places to eat in Syracuse.

“Hell yeah. Get ready to stuff your face, man.”

After a two-hour feast of delicious barbeque, good conversation, and endless ribbing, Griffin and Claire head to the hotel while Rogan drives me back to my dorm.

As we drive through downtown Syracuse, I lean into him. “Melissa is out of town. I have my dorm all to myself if you’re interested in coming up.”

“Seriously?” Rogan flashes a lifted brow in my direction. “Is that even a question you need to ask? Any night when we don’t have to deal with curfew and roommates means we’re glued to each other, Harp.”

“I didn’t know if you had any parties with the rest of the guys. I know the football team celebrates after a win.”

“Yeah, but they know my brother’s in town, so it’s fine. Plus, I want to spend some quality time with my forever girl.”

I can’t contain the smile that passes over my lips.

“You keep calling me that,” I point out, loving the way it sounds.

“Do you not like it?” He turns into my dorm parking lot and pulls into a parking space.

“No, I do. It’s different.”

Putting the car in park, he turns in his seat and takes my hand. “Well, it’s the truth.” His thumb passes over the back of my hand. “You know, I’ve been thinking. After Griffin proposed and everything . . . would that be, you know, something you’re interested in?”

“Getting married? Yeah, I’ve always wanted to get married.”

“But I mean . . . to me?” he asks, looking shy, his head tilted down, his hands fidgeting with mine.

Is he serious? As if I could think about marrying anyone but him.

“Rogan, there’s no one else I would even consider marrying. Remember? I’m your forever girl. Why? Do you plan on proposing?” I tease him, but when he looks up, his face is completely serious.

“Yes. I do. But I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Taken aback, I blink a few times. “You’ve actually thought about proposing?”

He nods. “I know exactly how I would do it.”

“Wow.” I lick my lips, feeling thirsty and excited at the same time. “I had no idea you were that serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? We might be young, but I know what I want, and that’s you. Nothing has changed between us, Harper. Nothing will.”

Head tilted to the side, I take in the man before me, my sweet, confident rock. How did I ever get so lucky?

“So you’re going to propose?”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, not right here. Give me some time, but I promise it will happen. If there’s one thing I know for sure about my life, it’s that you’ll be in it.” He gently pulls me into him, our faces inches apart. “I love you, and that’s never going to change.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ROGAN

“Fuck.” I slam my hand against the steering wheel of my car. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” How the hell . . . fuck!

That could not have gone worse. Not even a little.

Hours later, I’m still just sitting in my car outside my parents’ house, unable to move. Emotionally paralyzed, feeling like a Mack truck hit me straight in the chest.

The look on her face, the confusion and sadness in her eyes. There was no denying it—I’ve hurt her yet again.

After I dropped out of college and pushed her completely out of my life, I came back to Port Snow bitter, angry, and hating the world. The only things that made me not want to lash out irrationally were the houses she loved. They reminded me of the smile they put on her face, the stories they held, every single one of them. I wanted to hold on to that, remind myself that even though I broke her, I could have the memory of her smile.

I never expected her to move back here.

I never expected her to find out I owned Snow Vale Manor.

And I sure as fuck never expected her to figure out my company name.

Knock, knock.

Startled, I look up to find Brig standing on the other side of the passenger door, Reid right next to him. Hell, I don’t think I can take them right now. But before I can tell them to go away, they both hop into the car, Brig in the front, Reid in the back.

“Oh, it’s warm in here.” Brig puts his hands over the vents, heating them up. “The walk from the Landing was a bitch in this weather.” He turns to me. “What are you doing in here?”

“Yeah, what’s going on? You have that look about you. You know, resting whine face.”

“Ha!” Brig laughs. “He does. Look at the droop in his cheeks and the turndown of his lips. Resting whine face. Classic.”

And this is why I didn’t want them in my car.

“If you’re going to be dicks, just leave. I’m not in the mood.”

“Uh-oh,” Reid says. “Looks like someone has a case of the ex-girlfriends.”

“Dead on. No doubt this has to do with Harper.” Brig pokes my arm, and I swat him away. “We’re right, aren’t we?”

I lean my head back. “Don’t you have better things to do with your lives?”

“Not really. We’re waiting for Mom to finish up dinner. And you know she never wants our help.” Reid shakes my shoulder. “Talk to us, tell us your troubles.”

“We’re excellent at giving advice,” Brig adds.

“You’re shit for advice.”

“Not true,” Brig scoffs. “If anything, I know cars and love. I’m the most romantic guy in town; I can help any heartbroken hero find his maiden lady.” What an idiot.

“That . . .” I shake my head. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“It’s true. I read enough romance to know exactly how this goes. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back. Simple. Your boy loses girl section is just a tad longer than normal.”

“More like an eternity,” Reid adds. “Do you really think he has a shot at winning Harper back? After everything he did to her? For fuck’s sake, he’s been acting like a douche in the schoolyard, pulling her pigtails and picking on her.”

“Yeah, not his best romantic showing lately, but he for sure still has a shot.”

“I was not pulling her pigtails,” I scoff. Well, I sort of wasn’t . . .

I don’t really know what I’ve been doing; I think a part of me wanted to give her even more reasons to hate me, further destroy any chance of ever getting back together. After all, I’d never have to truly own up to the past if I kept Harper at a distance. But look how well that panned out, especially after today. If anything, I just opened a giant wound that had barely healed.

Ignoring me, Brig turns toward both of us. “You see, it’s called groveling. It’s when the man crawls across hot coals to make things up to his girl. With Harper, it will take time, but it could happen. I mean, she’s been in town for a while, and not once has she even looked at another man. She’s holding out.”

Holding out. Really?

I chew on my lip, mulling that over. Would Harper really be waiting for me to make a move? At this point, probably not, not with what an ass I’ve been.

But then again, maybe . . .

Don’t say anything. Don’t fucking say anything.

But . . . what if Brig is right? What if she’s holding out? Would I actually want to start things back up with Harper if she were open to it?

I mean . . . fuck yeah I would. Losing her was the worst thing that ever happened to me, so much worse than losing my chance at playing pro; ever since I destroyed what we had, my personal life has been one shitty event after the other.

Rain starts to patter against the windshield as I stare into my brothers’ earnest faces. And for the first time in years, I look back at the breakup, let it wash over me. And I realize something: at the time I really believed I was doing the right thing in breaking it off—as twisted as that sounds. Ever since I’d known Harper, I told her I would protect her, take care of her, make sure that not only I accomplished my dreams but that she accomplished her dreams too. In the wake of my accident, I could barely see a future past my nose. All I saw was the present, and that meant I saw Harper taking care of me. I saw her skipping classes to be at my side, I saw her letting her future slip through her fingers . . . for me.

I couldn’t have that.

And the pity, the remorse in her eyes, the pure fear she had when she was around me—it was killing me. I was an ornery bastard with a penchant for saying the wrong thing in the crudest way possible at every turn. I was hurting, so I was projecting that hurt onto her, blistering her with my words—I couldn’t stop myself.