Delaney huffed a laugh.
Phoebe piled the papers she’d collected on the coffee table. “I’m sorry this is so hard on you, honey. I like Ethan. I really do. If he was part of almost any other family in town . . .”
“It’s not serious . . .” While her brain told Delaney the words were true, pain cut through her chest. “It’s just . . . you know . . .”
“Sex.”
She shrugged. Nodded.
A moment of silence stretched, as if Phoebe knew it was a lie, too, and was trying to decide whether or not to call her on it.
“Heard he stood up for you in the middle of Main Street during the lunch rush,” she said, taking a sidelong approach. “Against his father no less.”
The memory made Delaney’s mouth lift in a grin. When it was put that way, the act sounded damn near heroic. “He did.”
“I’ve always known he was different than the rest of his family, but that, that really shows who he’s become. I’m proud of him.”
“It felt really good, you know? Made me feel, I don’t know . . . sorta safe in a way, I guess. I haven’t had a guy stand up for me since . . .” Her mind drifted back through the men she’d dated. “Wow . . . I don’t even—”
The memory hit her like a brick to the chest, and she sucked in an audible breath of horror.
Her boyfriend at the time, Christian “Chip” de la Cruz, a decade older than Delaney and an active drug-running gang member, had been the crème de la crème when it came to pissing off her father. Not that he’d cared that night—he’d been passed out behind the bar when Chip and his buddies rolled in. Delaney could still picture herself stepping over her dad to pull taps of beer.
She’d been seventeen, working a packed house alone. If she’d been caught, the bar would have been shut down. But if she hadn’t served, they would have lost customers, and the bar would have shut down anyway. Ian and his crew had shown up, high, drunk, belligerent, and handsy as hell.
Ian had stepped out of line once too often, and Chip had to step between Ian and Delaney one too many times . . .
“Since Chip?” Phoebe asked gently.
She released all her air and covered her eyes. “This whole situation is so wrong in so many ways. I swear, if I didn’t need the money I’ve saved, I would just demolish that place and never look back.”
“Delaney.” Phoebe’s warm hand covered hers. “Let it go. You can’t change the past. You can’t control other people’s actions. You were taking care of your family then, just like you’re taking care of your family now. That’s what families do.”
“And that’s exactly what Ethan’s trying to do,” she said, pleading with Phoebe to crush her fears. “And what if this time, while I’m trying to help my family, I hurt Ethan? What if I hurt Ethan’s family? Is it okay to hurt another family just to save my own?”
“You cannot control Ethan. You cannot control what he does or doesn’t do, how he does or doesn’t feel, what decisions he does or doesn’t make. Everything we do every day affects other people. What if I get in the car and I swerve to avoid a pedestrian, and end up hitting another car and killing the driver? What if there’s an earthquake and my store collapses and kills a dozen people?
“If you lived in fear of affecting other people’s lives, you’d never live. We’re human. That’s what we do—interact with other humans.”
“An accident is an accident,” Delaney said, shaken by the memory of Ian’s death, so fresh and vivid. “But moving forward knowing you’re going to hurt someone else—”
“Do you know? Do you know for a fact that renovating that bar is going to hurt Ethan?”
Delaney opened her mouth to say yes, but Phoebe cut her off. “What if this gets his family talking and brings them closer? What if this is the last straw that allows Ethan to break free of a family that’s holding him back? There are a lot of possible outcomes in this for Ethan and his family. But all you can control is what you do and why you do it.
“As for you and Ethan—I love the idea in theory. Whether or not it would work out in reality . . . That’s a real stretch, littered with real problems. But I hope he gives you a taste of how it feels to be with a good man. And I hope that makes you realize that you really do deserve that blessing in your life.”
She may deserve that kind of man in her life, but a guy like that deserved more than Delaney could or would give back. Which got her to thinking about what lay down the road for her. The thought of going back to hookups now was a lot like the thought of going back to drinking cheap wine after tasting straight shots of fine whiskey.
How would she ever feel satisfied again?
“I have some good news that might perk you up.” Phoebe tapped Delaney’s hand gently, pressed her back against the nearest wall, pulled her knees into her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. When Delaney met Phoebe’s gaze, her aunt said, “Avery called.”
Excitement sparked in Delaney’s heart. “She did? Is she okay?”
“She’s . . . struggling, but she’s working her way through. She said she called your cell a couple times but you didn’t answer.” Phoebe got that sly little smile. “Guess you were busy.”
Delaney sat up, searching for her phone. “She did?”