Naomi slowly sits up. “You invited Meredith?”

I nod. “Yeah. I, uh . . . I called her earlier in the week. To say she was surprised to hear from me is an understatement. I told her I would like it if she came to filming, and that I wanted us to start working toward rebuilding our relationship. It was a huge step for me.”

“Wow, Alec. I had no idea.”

“I didn’t say anything to Thad because I didn’t want to get his hopes up. He’s already stressed, and I know how much pressure he’s under to keep our family from falling apart. I wanted it to be more of a surprise than anything.” I rub the back of my neck. “But she didn’t show. Right before we started filming, I stepped aside to call her and see what was going on.”

“And?” Naomi asks, setting her trail mix on my desk.

“She said she’d had a rough night.” I shake my head. “Same fucking story. I thought that since I was reaching out this time, maybe she could pull it together for us, but apparently not. I was . . . hell, I was so mad that I shut down.”

“Which made Thad think you just stopped caring,” Naomi finishes for me.

“Exactly.”

“I knew something was wrong. You really seemed like you were changing, like you wanted to make things better with Thad.”

“I still do,” I say. “I don’t want to give up, but climbing out of the hole I’m stuck in seems next to impossible.”

“It’s not impossible.” Naomi smiles. “Because you have me.”

“Are you saying you’re going to help me?” I ask, taken aback.

“Of course. What kind of future sister-in-law would I be if I didn’t help you?”

“Not the good kind.” I chuckle.

“Exactly.” She grows serious again. “I don’t know your mom that well, but I do know she’s . . . self-centered.” Naomi winces. “Sorry if that’s rude.”

“Not rude—accurate.”

“I’ve gotten to know her, and it’s been difficult, to say the least. She’s canceled on us so many times—she’s just not shown up. She’s even asked Thad to get a prescription for her under his name.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“Thad sees the kind of person she is, but he’s still holding on to her despite their toxic relationship. She’s always taking, taking, taking, but I think he holds on because he doesn’t really have anybody else.”

My stomach sinks, heavy with guilt. I’m the reason our mom is his only option. He’s a family man, always has been, and he’s reaching for whatever small piece of family he can.

“I want to help you repair your relationship with Thad—at the very least, it might help him distance himself from your mom. You’ve been MIA, but I at least can see love in your eyes when you’re around him—can’t say the same about Meredith. You care about Thad. You wouldn’t be helping with the wedding otherwise.”

“I do care about him.” I meet Naomi’s gaze. “I care about him a lot.”

“Then let’s find a way to make things better, okay?” I nod and stand. She does as well, and I pull her into a hug—the first hug we’ve ever shared.

“Thank you, Naomi, for reaching out. I really fucking needed this.”

“I could tell.” She rubs my back and then pulls away, holding me by the shoulders. “I’m not sure your mom will ever change, for either you or Thad, but I’m joining this family soon, and I’ll be damned if you and Thad don’t have a relationship. And hey, if you need a little motherly hug or kick in the ass, I’m your girl. Okay?”

“Can I call you Mom?”

She laughs and steps away, grabbing our packets of trail mix as she goes. “If you want Thad to freak out, sure.” She pauses. “You know, please do. I would love to see his reaction.”

“I’m on it.” I wink and stick my hands in my pockets.

She stops at my office door. “You know, Alec, you’re a good man. Maybe a bit lost, but a good man. I can see where Thad gets it.” With a wave of her hand, she reaches into her purse and pulls out a small square piece of paper and hands it to me. “For the uncle-to-be.”

I stare down at the black-and-white photo of what looks like a little lima bean.

“Is this . . . ?”

Naomi nods. “The baby, yes. Thad wanted to give it to you on Saturday but refused after your argument. Thought it might lift your spirits.”

“It does,” I say, my throat growing tight. “This means a lot to me—thank you.”

She smiles kindly. “See you Saturday, Alec.”

My throat grows tighter. I regret a lot of my decisions, but I’ll always be proud of the moments when I could protect Thad and give him the childhood I never had. I know it had an impact on him, and it’s probably the only reason he still wants to have a relationship. I’m glad Naomi can see that good side of me: the kind, caring brother I used to be.

I give her a small wave. “See you Saturday, Naomi.”

The door clicks shut, and I head back to my office chair, where I stick the picture right under my computer screen so I can stare at it.

A good man.

If someone asked me if I thought I was a good man, I’m not sure I’d say yes.

I help people get divorced for a living. I had my reasons for that choice, but the more I let myself think of my mom, the more I realize I’ve spent all these years helping these other women so they wouldn’t end up like her, so they wouldn’t hurt and neglect their children like she did. I thought I was seeking justice, but I think I was trying to change my mom—projecting my childhood issues on my clients.

Jesus Christ, that’s beyond fucked.

That doesn’t make me a good man. It makes me a perfect candidate for therapy.

I round my desk, pick up my phone, and dial Lucas.

“What’s up, man?”

“I need a therapist.”

He doesn’t laugh. “I have just the person for you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

LUNA

Farrah: Running late. Don’t leave for dinner until I show him my right hook. No more than forty-five minutes. Sorry.

I set my phone down just as a knock sounds at the door. I stand from the couch and go to answer it.

I’ve been mentally preparing myself all day for this date. Alec hasn’t been texting, and even though he said he’d be okay, I didn’t believe it. He suffered a big blow this weekend, and I can’t imagine him being able to work through it all on his own. I desperately wanted to go over to his place and hold him, let him know I was there for him if he needed anything, but I respected his wishes. And it was painful.

It was also painful not hearing from him.

The only text I got today was right before he left his apartment, letting me know he was on his way. So going into tonight, I really have no idea what to expect. Is he in a good mood? Has he spent too much time thinking? Is he standing outside my apartment door, ready to break things off with me?

That’s the fear swirling through my head like a storm ready to break.

I’m afraid our relationship is going to be too much for Alec. Maybe it would be best for him if he took a break and figured out his life. I’d step aside, if that were the case, and let him rebuild his family—despite how devastating it would be. Whether I like it or not, Alec has dug himself under my skin. He’s all I think about. Even when I’m crafting, my thoughts drift to Alec and the way he so carefully touches me, how he can make me laugh without even trying. After Marco offered me the collaboration, the first person I wanted to tell was Alec, despite my brother standing only a few feet away. I wanted to see the pride on Alec’s face, the excitement—that smile.

With a trembling hand, I steel myself and open the door.

A second later, a pair of strong arms scoops me back into my apartment, spins me around, shuts the door, and presses me against it. Then a pair of lips is pressing against mine.

Firm, demanding lips.

Hungry, devouring lips.

The only lips I want.

His mouth is the first thing I register, followed by his hands on my lower back, then the rough scruff of his beard. A sweet groan floats up from the back of his throat.

Hot.

Needy.

Relief washes over me.

My hands fall to the back of his neck, where I grip him tightly, beyond relieved that this is the kind of greeting I’m getting—and not the other one I was dreading.

“Where’s Farrah?” he asks, resting his forehead against mine.

“Late.”

“Really?”

I nod. “At least forty-five minutes.”

He lifts me up by the ass, and I wrap my legs around his waist. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Down the hall. Door on the right.”

He takes off, and I giggle as he practically sprints down the hallway. Skidding to a halt, he kicks the door open, strides inside, and slams it shut before tossing me on the bed. From behind his head, he tears his shirt off and tosses it to the ground, revealing his perfectly defined chest and magnificent abs. The view will never get old.

Never ever.

“Shirt off.” He nods.

I do what he says, revealing my moss-green bra.

“Pants too.”

I chuckle and get rid of those as well.

“Matching set—I like it,” he says, crawling over the bed and pressing a kiss on my lips. But then he pauses and leans back a few inches. “What’s wrong?”