“I thought we weren’t doing this? You don’t talk to bartenders, remember?”

He had to admit the man was funny, and if he wasn’t in such a shitty mood, he’d laugh. “We’re not.”

They played for a few minutes. It was Mason who spoke again. “So what happened?”

“Hell if I know. He freaked out. I told him I got a job offer, and he told me to go.”

Mason frowned. “Maybe it’s the right thing. Doesn’t sound like either of you fought much for each other.”

“No offense, but you don’t know shit. You don’t know us.” But a little voice inside his head knew Mason was right, but Braden felt like he fought for them their whole relationship. It was Wes who didn’t love him enough to do the same.

***

Wes looked at the envelope sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. He picked it up, then put it back where he’d set it about an hour before.

It had his name on it.

In Chelle’s handwriting.

Part of him wanted to shove it back into the chest. To put it away and not read it. But he knew he couldn’t. The bigger part of him wanted to know what it said.

He collapsed into the chair, grabbed the envelope, and opened it.

Wes,

You know I’m sitting here wondering how long it took you to find this, right? I left it right on top of the trunk for easy access, but I also know it probably took you a while to open it. As soon as I thought about that, I started to get frustrated, but then I realized that’s just always been you, ya know? Even when you were a kid, you didn’t rush into anything. You’ve always guarded yourself, even before the bad things started to happen. You’ve always been cautious, making sure someone or something was worth your love or your time, before you devoted it. I’m not going to pretend there weren’t times I wanted to knock sense into you, or if I were still alive that I probably wouldn’t often want the same thing now, but do you know what I love about you? It may take you longer to put yourself out there, but when you do it, it’s with 100% of who you are. You’d probably be arguing with me about that, but it’s true, little brother. Maybe Alexander couldn’t see it, maybe you can’t see it, but I promise you, most of us do.

That’s why I wanted you to have Jessie. I knew no one would love her like you. No one would always put her first the way you will. I can go easier knowing she has you to love her.

Do me a favor, though, okay? Try and be happy. Realize how great a guy you are and that you’re worth love and happiness. It’s worth it to put yourself out there, even if you do get hurt. If you don’t risk your heart, you’ll never know what it’s like for it to fully be whole.

If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for me. I’m holding you to that, which is shitty of me, but what are sisters for? ? .

Love,

Chelle

Wes held the letter in his hands, the words blurred, swimming in the wetness of his eyes. He wanted to be the person Chelle thought he was. He wanted to be the best he could be for Jessie. He wanted to prove to himself that he was worth it—even if things didn’t turn out the way he wanted. He wanted to be the guy who fought for the man he loved, and he sure as hell wasn’t doing that now.

Wes pushed to his feet, hoping it wasn’t too late.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Braden still couldn’t get Mason’s words out of his head. He just didn’t know what to do about them. The man couldn’t have been more right—he’d given up on Wes. But hell, how much could he keep pushing? How much could he try to be in Wes’s life before he got the message? If Wes wanted them there, he knew Braden would be, and the fact was, he wasn’t the type of guy to be in this alone, no matter how much Braden loved him.

He needed Wes to put himself out there for Braden, too.

Braden climbed into his truck after work, weariness taking root in his muscles.

He let his truck rumble to life and steered it toward his house, and Jock. It didn’t take long to get there. His body felt more drained with each step he took.

Braden fumbled with his keys and pushed the door. He knew something was wrong when Jock didn’t take him down when he stepped inside.

He let his eyes raise to the couch and—“Breaking and entering?”

Wes grinned at him from where he sat. “I figured you’re worth the risk of Jock trying to eat me.”

Braden laughed at that. Jock could never hurt a fly. “Glad you were willing to brave my killer dog for me.” He tossed his keys to the coffee table. When he tried to walk by the couch and to the kitchen, Wes reached out and grabbed his wrist.