Page 54 of All the Missing Pieces

“It’s my job to look out for you. I’m your big brother,” I croaked.

A soft smile spread across Emerson’s face. “I appreciate that. But don’t take it too far, all right? Ridley isn’t a danger to me.”

“She might be to me,” I muttered.

Emerson chuckled. “I like that she keeps you on your toes.”

“You would.”

That only made Em laugh more. “You need to apologize.”

“I tried. She wasn’t interested.”

Emerson’s mouth pursed. “That doesn’t seem like her.” I traced the rim of my glass, and Em’s eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me, Colter Brooks?”

Three full names in thirty minutes? Sam would have a field day with that.

“I might’ve apologized already. I think my accusing her of assault afterward might’ve dulled the effects of my apologies.”

Emerson groaned, leaning back in her chair. “You could use a good shake.”

“I know,” I sulked.

Em drummed her fingers on the table as she studied me. “You need toshowher you mean the apology. Change the behavior.”

“I can’t change my behavior around her if she runs out of a room the second I enter it.”

Emerson waved me off. “Doesn’t matter. Actions speak louder than words, and since your words have been seriously lacking?—”

“Hey!”

She arched a brow. “Where’s the lie?”

I slumped back in my chair. “Fine. She needs me to speak with my actions.”

Emerson grinned. “She does. And I know exactly how you’re going to start.”

22

RIDLEY

An hourof walking the streets of Shady Cove hadn’t lessened my anger, not one single bit. Normally I was good at keeping my cool. Good at not letting people rattle me. I’d come across assholes of every variety in the last four years. Everything from harmless to murderous. None of them had rattled me the way Colt had. Not a single one.

I didn’t want to think about what that could mean.

Or what my storming out of Cowboy Coffee could’ve told the world about how bothered I was by Colt’s presence. But there was nothing I could do about that except practice my meditation breathing as I finally headed in the direction of the Shady Cove library.

“Ridley!”

The shout didn’t have Colt’s signature rasp, so I turned. Dean jogged down the block, his dark hair flying. He was clad in black again, and I could see he’d painted his fingernails a dark purple since the last time I’d seen him.

“Geez, you walk fast,” he muttered as he reached me.

That was what happened when someone tripped your fuse. But I didn’t share that tidbit with my teenage superfan. “Hey, Dean.”

“Are you on your way to an interview?” he asked hopefully.

I shook my head. “Library actually. I wanted to pull some yearbooks.”

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