of everything he'd done to cost me the only home I'd ever truly wanted.
Still, I had to give him credit where credit was due. In spite of his many other flaws, he truly did seem to care about Willow.
But he didn't care about me – not that he should, I guess. Bracing myself, I asked, "What was the second thing he wanted?"
"Well, that's where it gets interesting."
"Why?"
"Because it was about you."
I feared as much. Whatever Mason wanted, it couldn’t be good. "Oh yeah?"
Cami nodded. "He wanted to know if you were still here."
In my stomach, the sick feeling only grew. "Did you ask why?"
"Sure," she said. "But all he said was, 'You'll see.'"
It sounded like a threat. Probably it was. Mason had a reputation, and it wasn't great.
Or at least, it wasn't great if you were on the receiving end of his wrath – as I knew all too well, considering how ruthless he'd been in acquiring the house.
If I were smart, I decided, I'd brace myself for a nasty surprise.
It didn't take long for it to arrive either – less than five minutes, actually – except it wasn't nasty. And didn't involve Mason at all.
Chapter 73
Brody
As I pulled into the unfamiliar driveway, I scanned the house, searching for any sign that Arden was still there.
She should be. Mason had called Cami just this morning. And assuming that Cami had been telling the truth, Arden was still staying at the neat two-story home that I was looking at now.
The home was probably a hundred years old, with a classic front porch, mature trees, and tall, dense shrubbery all along the front.
But I didn't care about the house. I cared about the girl inside, assuming she was still there.
Please, God.
The drive from Bayside to Petoskey had taken me two and a half hours, which had given me more time to think than I'd needed.
I didn't need time. I needed the girl I loved.
Yeah, I loved her. And only a dumb-ass wouldn’t have realized it long before now.
But I'd wised up plenty during the past three days, ever since Chase had told me something I should've figured out on my own.
Turns out, I'd cost Arden not only her family home, but a scholarship that would've changed everything for her.
I owed her an apology – and more.
And hey, while I was at it, I owed myself the chance to reclaim what I'd lost.
Arden.
I was halfway up the front walkway when a sudden motion in the bushes made me stop to look. As I did, Arden's head popped up over the shrubbery. She stood and took a quick look around.
At the sight of me standing there, she froze.
I froze, too.
She was holding a narrow paint-brush, caked with dirt and white paint. She wore a thin, paint-splattered T-shirt, and her hair was tied in a messy ponytail, with loose tendrils curling around her face.
It was the face of the girl I loved.
The girl I'd lost.
Her eyes were wide, and her lips were full. There was a purple paint smudge along the side of her cheek and a streak of white just above her collarbone.
She was so beautiful, I could hardly breathe.
Paint or no paint, I wanted to take her in my arms and pull her close like I used to, back when she'd been mine.
But I didn't deserve it. Not yet. I moved forward and stopped on the opposite side of the shrubbery. "Hey."
Her voice, soft and breathless, said the same to me. "Hey." She took another quick look around. "So, um, what are you doing here?"
"You can't guess?"
Silently, she shook her head.
"Good," I said, "because you deserve a surprise."
"A good surprise?" She hesitated. "Or the other kind?"
She was so cute, I had to smile. "If I’m lucky, it's good. But hey, you might see it differently."
"Really?"
"Really." I moved forward until only the shrubs were between us. "But first, tell me something. That check I sent – why didn't you cash it?"
"Because I didn't make it to the end."
"So come back."
She bit her lip. "You mean back to the show?"
"Forget the show. That's not what I meant." I searched her face. "Arden?"
"Yeah?"
"Come back to me."
She sucked in a breath. "What?"
"I love you. I've loved you for a long time, except I was too dumb to see it. But I do love you. And I'm hoping – praying – that you'll give me another chance – a chance to make things right."
She blinked. "Wait, what'd you say?"
With a sheepish grin, I asked, "Which part?"
"The part about