Sydney

My breath seized the second I turned and saw Tyler standing there.

Honestly, it could have been anyone else. It could have been Maeve chasing after me because she saw me running.

Maybe Brooklyn. Or Tracy.

Or even that girl who’d just left.

But it was Tyler Sinclair who’d walked through that door. Standing in that denim jacket and jeans, the brace on his hand somehow making the entire look more intentional.

‘My God,’ my stupid brain exhaled, encouraging my heart to do that thing that made it sound like a broken engine.

“Tyler—”

“Before you say anything,” he said, voice echoing off the tiles. “I didn’t hit Dean.”...