Instead of walking into the cute but tiny mid-century modern home that sat just off South Congress Street, she waited until I was standing directly in front of her before she crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at me.
I was waiting for her to demand an explanation as to why I was suddenly standing on her doorstep. I was ready for her to pick a fight. I’d spent the last hour of the very long drive bracing myself for her to rip me apart and ask all the questions I didn’t want to answer.
Instead, I whispered the words, “It hurts so bad,” and almost immediately lost all the composure I’d tried so hard to build. I aimlessly made my way toward the girl who was my sworn enemy.
She didn’t push me away or make fun of my complete and utter breakdown.
No. She didn’t do anything I expected her to do.
Bowe Keller never did, which was why I never knew what to do with her or how to handle all the conflicting ways I felt about her.
All I knew was that she was the person I needed the most at this moment.
Chapter 1
Bowe
The last thing I expected to encounter after dragging myself home from a band practice that lasted way longer than it should have was a heartbroken, seemingly devastated Archer. The only time I crossed paths with any of the Archer family was on holidays or during summer vacations when my parents dragged me to Denver for a couple of months each year. Since that one fateful summer, the amount of time I spent with my childhood friends was less and less. I loved my life in Austin and often resented being dragged into all the memories and relationships that made up my parents’ past. I was very much a live-for-the-moment type of girl, and I didn’t enjoy being pulled away from my friends and the interests I had at home. I’d skipped the last trip to Denver for Christmas, and I fully planned on staying in Austin for the summer, even though my parents had heavily hinted they wanted me to tag along for their upcoming annual trip. I was living on my own now and trying to make my own choices without feeling guilty or ungrateful. It was a struggle I’d yet to master.
I had twin sisters, Yves and Zola, who were significantly younger than I was. Neither one of them had stopped texting me and begging me to go with the family since I flatly refused. So far, I’d managed to stand firm in my determination not to make the trip, but if the twins kept hounding me, I knew I was going to cave. My mom and dad struggled to have more kids after I came along. It was something they were very open about. They were transparent with me when they decided to pursue in-vitro fertilization. It hadn’t been an easy process for anyone in our small family. It took more than one attempt before they were successful. As a result, my little sisters were often viewed as the miracles they were. We all treated them like they were precious and special. They might be the only soft spot I had. Or at least, the only one I would ever admit to.
The other tender, sensitive spot in my icy heart, I would rather die than acknowledge to anyone, but especially myself. Unfortunately, that secret spot had been blown wide open and was aching because the boy who claimed it was currently standing in front of me looking like a zombie.
Even as young children, Ryier Archer and I were always on opposites sides of any situation. We bickered endlessly and never saw eye-to-eye on anything. Fighting with Ry was as easy as breathing, and our endless conflicts, big and small, played a pretty big part in why I didn’t want to pull myself out of my own life just to play the reoccurring villain in his. We were old enough now; there was no need to force each other to endure the other’s company. There was no reason either of us had to suffer.
I didn’t have to let his perceived perfection irk me. And my absolute lack of conformity no longer needed to bother him.
And he didn’t need to be bothered by my blatant disregard of rules and regulations.
Things were never easy between the two of us, but over the last few years, while he’d been dating Aston Wheeler, they’d become unbearable. There were several reasons for the discontent between the two of us, but I only let myself think about them when I was alone and feeling particularly melancholy and introspective.
None of that mattered at the moment, though, because Ry looked like he was on the verge of tears. I grabbed his stupidly attractive face and looked into his icy blue eyes. It might be the first time since knowing him that Ry Archer allowed himself to show any kind of weakness or vulnerability. So, while a big part of me wanted to turn him back around and send him on his way, I knew I couldn’t kick him while he was down. Instead, I practically dragged him inside and situated him on my second-hand couch before he crashed and burned.
One minute he was looking at me with his broken heart bleeding in his eyes; the next, he was knocked out and oblivious to the world around him. I was stunned when I took a good look at his sleeping face and noticed he had dried tear tracks on his ridiculously chiseled cheeks. The Ry I knew was so emotionally repressed, I wasn’t sure he even knew how to cry. The boy who was currently unmoving in my living room was not the same Ry Archer I knew how to handle.
The Ry I knew and loathed was the top student. The best boyfriend. The decorated athlete and super reliable teammate. The beloved older brother. The steadfast cousin. The revered son, and the always unwaveringly loyal friend. He had no flaws and allowed for no mistakes. His stringent dedication to put on a picture-perfect front was one of the main reasons we never got along. I had no time or patience for the pretense of perfection.
Even though it was frighteningly early in the morning, I pulled my cell out of my pocket and called Daire as I went in search of an extra blanket to toss over my unwanted guest. As much as I didn’t like Ry, I adored Daire. We were enough alike that she was one of the few friends in Denver I stayed in touch with no matter how chaotic or busy life got. We chatted a couple of times a week and kept each other in the loop. She kept me up-to-date on what her brother was up to, even though I would rather pull my own teeth out than ask her anything about him. She never divulged just how much she knew about the secrets Ry and I shared, but she was intuitive and knew her older brother better than anyone. I was pretty sure even if Ry never said a word, Daire would know there were reasons beyond our differences that caused us not to speak for a length of time.
“You couldn’t call and give me a heads up that your brother was going to show up on my doorstep? Do I even need to ask how he got my new address?” I asked the questions without saying hello as soon as Daire picked up my call. I’d only moved into the South Congress house a month or so ago. The rent was outrageous, but fortunately, my folks were helping me stay afloat until the two roommates I had lined up moved in. They were coming closer to the start of the next semester of school, so I was supposed to have the place to myself for most of the summer. I regretted giving Daire and Remy a ritual tour and my new address when they asked about it.
The younger girl snorted, and I could hear her shifting around in bed as she snapped back, “If I told you, you would’ve left him sitting in his truck after he drove through the night. Plus, I didn’t know where he was going until he was already out of Colorado. Is he okay?”
I cast a look over my shoulder where his huge body was taking up every inch of my couch. He looked pale, and his black hair had clearly been the victim of his agitated hands. His jeans had what looked like a grease stain on one thigh, and there was a hole in his faded t-shirt near the neck. All in all, it was the messiest, most disheveled version of Ry Archer I had ever seen.