She deserved better, and I knew it.

So I said the worst thing I’ve ever said to a human being, convinced that by making her hate me, by breaking her heart all at once, I was saving her from the slow, torturous heartbreak of a life with me. It should have killed me, but I was already dead inside.

I couldn’t be the man she deserved.

But now? Can the person I am today possibly deserve Harper?

“Look, the wheels in his head are spinning. He’s thinking about it.”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” I snap at Reid, really not in the mood for his bullshit, not after running through my horrible self-reflection.

“Well, you are thinking about it, aren’t you?” Brig asks, hope in his voice.

I have changed. It took me a long time to grow accustomed to my new life, but I’ve put in the work, I’ve grown up, and I’ve learned what hard work really is.

I drag my hand back and forth over my forehead. “Sort of . . . fuck, I don’t know.”

“Tell me this,” Brig says. “Do you still love her?”

“Of course I do,” I say, without even thinking about it, knowing it’s the truest thing in the world. “Love has never been an issue for me. I’ll love her until the day I die.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Reid asks, his voice finally softening.

“I broke her, pushed her away when she needed me the most.” I shake my head. “I’m not sure she wants anything to do with me.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“She doesn’t have to. It’s all in her body language.” I let out a long sigh. “She saw the manor today.”

While drinking down in New Orleans—but before we ran into the palm reader and her curse bullshit—I confessed to my brothers, told them I wanted to buy all the houses on Harper’s dream list so I’d have a way to be close to her, even though we were through. I vividly remember them oohing and aahing, especially Brig, over how “romantic” I was. At the time, I wanted to punch every single one of them in the face.

“She saw it? How?” Brig asks, now on the edge of his seat.

“She’s working with Lovemark, and they want to use it for the movie. I was there today to look over the last of the renovations, and when I came around the corner, she was standing in the middle of the ballroom. She was . . . overwhelmed with emotion but held it together until the rest of the Lovemark team left. Fuck, I wish I knew what she was really thinking. We didn’t talk about it much. She cried, I was short with her . . . I handled it completely wrong.”

“Why were you short with her? That was your chance to show her how hard you worked to preserve the memories you have with her, you moron.” Reid slaps my arm.

“Oh, okay, yeah . . . good idea. After a week of fighting, let me just tell her I’m still in love with her and throw down the fact that I bought the manor with the sole purpose of making sure no one else took the house, and my memories of her, away.”

“I mean . . . you could have,” Reid suggests with a shrug.

I roll my eyes. “No.”

“He’s right,” Brig agrees with me. “He has to ease her into it.” He suddenly holds up his finger, poking the roof of the car. “Oh, I got it. She’s going to use the manor in the movie, right? Well, use that to get close to her. Make sure you’re a part of every decision made about your properties. It gives you a good excuse to be near her, and maybe, just maybe, you can show her what it’s like to at least be friends again.”

“Oh yeah,” Reid cuts in. “And then once you’re friends, it will be impossible not to playfully flirt with each other.”

“And then bam!” Brig claps his hands together. “You do it in the back of your car, and the curse is broken.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, dragging my hands over my face. “You and that stupid curse.”

“Well, isn’t that why you’re not with Harper right now? Because of broken love?” Brig shrugs. “Just seems too coincidental. Remember what she said? Until your mind has matured, you will forever have broken love. I think it’s time for you to grow the fuck up, own your past mistakes, and make something of having Harper back in town. Opportunities like this don’t just happen, Rogue. There’s a cosmic force bringing you together, so don’t be a dumbass and mess it up.”

“Weirdly, I agree with him,” Reid adds, both of them grating on my nerves. “Do you know what your problem is?” Oh, this should be good. Knocking me in the shoulder to get my attention, he sternly says, “You’re self-destructive. You have been since you lost your chance at going pro. And instead of owning up to your mistakes and learning from them, you sit there and ruin the one good thing that’s come into your life. Brig is right: until your mind has matured, you’re never going to repair the love you broke in the first place.”

This goddamn curse. I don’t ever let myself think about it, and yet it follows me everywhere. I can’t say I believe in it, per se, but I know something happened that night in New Orleans. And I can’t say my brothers are wrong. They scarily speak the truth. I might not have attempted the fate of the curse myself; dating has been something I’ve never given a second thought—only one-night stands here and there—but there’s no need to find out whether the curse is real or not, because I’m already living a cursed life. Ever since the accident, I’ve been a self-destructive disaster when it comes to love.

That fucking night. I can still hear Harper’s screams in my ear, my buddies yelling for someone to call 911, the unbearable pain. That next morning, when I woke up and was told I would never play football again . . . it pretty much set the tone for the rest of my life: bitter disappointment.

But that was seven years ago, and I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I don’t want to be the guy who lay in the hospital bed with a hollow chest and a broken dream. I don’t want to be the guy who throws away his chance at real happiness.

I want more. I worked hard to resurrect myself. I might not be perfect, but I’m a far cry from the boy who dropped out of college and pushed away the love of his life.

If I want something to change, if I want to gain any semblance of happiness again, I very well might have to listen to these two motherfuckers and grow the fuck up.

I run my hand through my hair, my pulse starting to pick up as I consider my circumstances. Harper is here, single, in town, and using my properties for the film . . . there’s an opportunity here, and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t take it.

My fingers run across the side of my jaw, the idea of getting closer to Harper, of earning her love again, starting to percolate in my head. Start as friends, and move from there. I can do that. I mean, that’s how we started in the first place. Friends, best friends, and then soul mates.

The more I think about it, the more I know I can do this.

I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but . . . I’m going to get Harper back.

Fuck the past.

Fuck this curse.

I’m going to make Harper my forever girl again.

“There she is. Come sit down,” Sally calls out and motions to Harper, who’s hurrying into the inn lobby, pink-cheeked and windblown, trailing the crisp scent of autumn as she walks toward us.

We’ve been sitting here for the past half hour, going over the different properties I own that Harper thought Sally would be interested in—and Sally’s thinking about using all of them.

“Hey,” Harper says tentatively, taking a seat and looking me up and down. “I’m sorry, I was running a little late. I was talking with Thomas down at the harbor about his sailboat. He said you guys are really excited about using it.”

“Oh, it was a dream, just like you said. He did ask for a small part in the movie.”

Harper chuckles. “Yeah, I could see him doing that, just like everyone else in this town. Let me guess—he wants to be the captain?”

“Something like that.” Sally organizes her papers into a neat stack. “Now, I was just talking with Mr. Knightly about the different properties you suggested. I think they’re perfect. I’m still on the fence about Peach Tree Terrace, but I think it might be a good location for a scene that’s being rewritten right now. We’ll see. Anyway, Mr. Knightly is more than willing to work with us . . . under one condition.”

“Oh?” Harper turns to me, a nervous look in her eyes.

“He would like to be present for all setup, filming, and takedown, which means you two will be working closely together.”

Sally might not see it, but I do. Harper swallows hard, and her eyes dart back and forth for a second. “That won’t be a problem at all. I’m sure Mr. Knightly will want to keep a close eye on his properties, since they’re a part of his income.”

“Yes, well, I’ll let you two discuss schedules. I have a hair consult to get to. Harper, are we still on for tomorrow morning at eight? I want to make sure we are set before the crew shows up.”

“Of course. Eight is perfect. I’ll see you then.”