“You up for a game in Boston if I get tickets?” Kyle calls out.

“As long as you’re not coming.”

“She’s definitely warming up to me,” Kyle mock-whispers.

“Make him get off our furniture and take a shower!” she shouts back, disappearing down the hall.

“Have I told you how much I love having you here?” I murmur.

He lets his T-shirt fall and takes my hand, pressing a kiss against the back of it. “What happened today?”

I sink into him with a groan—the smell of his clean sweat is intoxicating—and tell him about KDZ and my father’s ultimatum.

“Still no luck with those phone records?”

“No, and I spent twenty minutes promising their president that I’d pull our five-million-dollar-a-year contract with them if I don’t have what I need in my hand by tonight.”

Kyle checks his watch. “It’s still technically tonight.”

I sigh. “Do you think . . . is there any way that what you heard was wrong?”

“No.”

“But, what if—”

“This isn’t two truths and a lie, Piper. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s picking up on shady shit.” His gaze drifts to the TV, though I can tell he’s not watching the sports highlights. “God knows I’ve had enough experience with it.”

“It’s too bad Gus wasn’t there with you.”

“Right. Someone people would respect,” he mutters, and I don’t miss the hint of bitterness in his tone.

“Kyle, no one looks at you and sees what your dad and brothers did. No one but you.” Thousands of miles and years later, and he still can’t seem to shake his low opinion of himself. I smooth my hand over his stomach. “I respect you.”

He gives my hand a squeeze, and then pulls himself off the couch. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

I watch him wander down the hall to my bedroom, waiting for him to pause, to turn back, to suggest I join him.

But he doesn’t.

Settling into bed with a glass of wine while I wait for Kyle to finish his shower, I open up my laptop and check my email. Re: Phone Records. Confidential.

My heart begins to race as I see the subject line in my in-box.

“Please, give me a smoking gun . . .” Please give me something that will prove Kyle’s instincts were right, and that Tripp is a thieving liar.

There are several attachments. I click on the first one and begin scrolling.

And smile with wicked satisfaction, even as my anger boils.

Kyle has just stepped out of the shower when I storm into the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his lower half, his hair damp, his chest glistening.

“Get dressed.”

He frowns. “Why?”

My adrenaline is racing. “They just sent me Tripp’s phone records and you were right. Of course you were right.” An odd sense of pride swells inside me, knowing that. “We’re going to show my father what Tripp has been up to.”

Kyle’s eyebrows arch. “We?”

“Yes. We. You are the reason Tripp isn’t getting away with this bullshit. We would have signed with KDZ otherwise and that dickhead would be laughing right now.” All the way to John Deveaux, half a million dollars richer. Who knows—maybe working with this Hank Kavanaugh could have been advantageous, but I want nothing to do with his business tactics.

“I don’t need to take any credit for that, Piper.” Kyle shakes his head. “You go ahead, seriously. I’ll be here to celebrate with you when you get back.”

“No! You’re coming with me. I can’t hide us anymore. I don’t want to. This isn’t summer camp and I’m not sixteen years old. I need to get this all out in the open, confront my father about what he did, and move on with you, whether he accepts it or not.”

Kyle’s gaze wanders the corners of the bathroom ceiling, his forehead etched with worry.

“Look, I know this isn’t going to make our lives easier in the short term. He’s going to be difficult.” A hint of dread weaves its way through the impending victory over Tripp. Difficult may be an understatement. It’ll likely end up in a fight and a few carefully launched threats from both sides. But what my father did was wrong, and I’ll make sure he’s aware. “We need to do this, Kyle. So we can move forward.”

Kyle takes a deep breath. “Okay, Piper.” He sighs heavily. “You want this all out in the open. So let’s get it all out in the open.”

I can’t help but catch the sorrow in his voice.

Chapter 24

THEN

2006, Camp Wawa, End of Week Seven

“I dare you . . .” Kyle pauses to take a long drag from his cigarette, his gaze on the last bit of daylight as we lie sprawled out in the alcove at the bottom of the cliff. Our place. It’s cool and cast in shadow now, after a hot, sun-filled afternoon. “I’m tired of playing this game.”

I peer up at him, my head resting against his stomach. “You want to go back to your cabin?”

His head tilts downward to meet my gaze. “Do you?”

Yes, I mouth. Right now.

I get a lazy, suggestive smile in return as Kyle’s eyes drift over my bikini-clad body.

“Well, I want to go. I’m getting cold,” Ashley whines, wrapping her arms around herself and exaggerating a shiver.

“You need another one of these, then.” Eric holds up a shot of tequila. We hit Provisions early and then came out here to drink and swim under the sun. Hours and too many shots later, the very idea of climbing this rocky hill and walking home is exhausting.

Ashley pushes his hand away with a groan. “No more. I’m going to puke.”

“Fine.” He lifts the shot glass to his mouth.

“Haven’t dared you yet!” Kyle objects, waving an arm haphazardly in the air.

“Fine. I dare me to kiss Freckles.” Eric dives down to plant his mouth on hers, spilling half his tequila over the rocks in the process.

“That doesn’t count, jackass,” Kyle mutters, but he’s grinning, as am I, because Ashley hasn’t pushed him away. “Finally,” he murmurs, his stomach muscles tensing as he sits up, his hand gripping my head as I slide downward. “Let’s get this over with. I’m getting cold, too.”

We collect the empty bottles.

“Man, we drank a lot,” Kyle murmurs, chuckling and stumbling a touch. “Thanks, Piper, for bankrolling all this.”

“Whatever.” I didn’t even think; I just handed my card to him. I also filled his car up with gas and picked up our burger tab. It felt good to do that.

It takes three times as long to climb the rocky hill. Ashley and I are on our hands and knees, laughing, by the time we reach the top. “I just want to sleep now,” I moan, inspecting the scratches on my palms from the thorny branches and rocks. I’m going to feel them tomorrow.

Eric stumbles over to the edge of the cliff. “I can’t believe we only have one week left here.”

“Careful . . . You’re drunk,” Ashley warns. “I don’t want you falling off.”

Eric turns to grin at her. “Aw, you finally admitting that you care about me?”