“Yeah.”
“That man is criminally attractive.”
I choke on my food. “Cass.”
“What? It’s a fact.”
“I’ll tell Dylan you said that.”
He scoffs. “Please. That sheriff of mine already wants tickets and an autograph.”
I laugh.
“He’s also weirdly invested in your love life.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“He says it’s because he likes a good romance.”
“That’s even more terrifying.”
We both laugh. The tension eases. The fear loosens its grip.
I tell him about San Francisco. My new loft. The charity. The plans. I don’t tell him everything. Not yet. But saying Rafe’s name out loud, over and over, feels right. It feels real.
Cass leans back, satisfied. “I’m happy for you,” he says.
“I know.”
He watches me for a second. “And your parents?” he adds casually. “It’s pretty fucked that they said that.”
I freeze. “What?”
We’re halfway through the second container of noodles when Cass’s expression shifts. It’s subtle, but I know him.
“What have they said?” I press.
He hesitates. “That’s actually why I’m here,” he says.
My fork pauses midair. “For the noodles?”
He doesn’t smile. “This is why I’m here,” he repeats, more serious now. “It came out like ten minutes before I got here.”
A cold thread slides down my spine. “What came out?”
He leans back in his chair, studying me carefully like he’s assessing how hard he can hit without knocking me over. “There’s a statement,” he says. “From your parents.”
The room tilts slightly.
“My—what?”
“I didn’t want you to see it alone,” he says quickly. “That’s why I came. I figured you hadn’t checked anything.”
I haven’t. My stomach drops. “What does it say?” I ask.
Cass rubs a hand over his jaw. “It’s… messy.”
That word lands heavy. “How messy?”