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The realization hits me like a sucker punch to the chest, her words still hanging in the air. I rest back onto my hands as it all falls into place. Every tense silence these past few weeks, every time Christian avoided eye contact with Devon. The way he looked gutted tonight, not just angry. That man was betrayed.

But it wasn’t about Arya.

It was about Devon.

Arya continues on with a sniffle. “I know he cares about me, but I've had enough. Devon is my friend, too.”

“Did Christian say why he wanted to end things with Dev?”

“Some bullshit story about bro code,” she huffs. “Devon is your ex and also slept with Logan or whatever. There was something about Xed, too. He said it made him a bad friend to keep fucking around, but he knew about you and Xed before this started. I think he was lying.”

Yeah, me too.

Great. Now, who the hell am I supposed to be mad at? What's worse: a physical cheater or an emotional one?

This is all Devon’s fucking fault.

“I don’t think this was about you,” I murmur softly, throwing my arm around her shoulders.

Arya searches my face with trembling lips before nodding resignedly. “I think I knew that. I think… I just wanted to hurt him before he hurt me.”

My chest tightens painfully. “Yeah. I get that.”

Maybe that’s what we’ve all been doing this entire tour—shoving ahead to throw the first punch. Somewhere subconsciously, I did the same thing to Logan. We were never destined for a happy ending, and I had to break his heart before it broke mine to leave him.

“Maybe we're both just better off alone,” I whisper, remembering Logan’s reaction when I told him about the photographer gig.

Arya sighs heavily. “We should just date each other.”

Releasing a snort, I pull her in for a kiss. “I like the lips on your face. The ones between your legs aren't for me.”

“Lavender marriage? We can be sister wives.”

“I'd actually have to get divorced for that to happen.”

She laughs, wiping her runny nose on my flannel sleeve. I gag and yank it back. We grin at each other, heartbreak momentarily forgotten when she launches herself into my lap and tries to steal another kiss. She's got me flat on my back with my arms raised in defense the moment my cell starts to ring.

“Get your snotty face away from me,” I growl, yanking my phone out of my pocket. Taylor's contact photo lights up the screen—a selfie of us with his cat Lasagna from high school. Answering the call, I attempt to fend Arya off with my other hand. “Hey, we're heading back soon⁠—”

“Salem.” Tay chokes on a sob, his voice ragged in a way I’ve only heard once in our entire lives—the night Huck almost died.

I bolt upright and shove Arya aside. “What happened?”

He pauses, nothing more than the sound of shaky breath filtering through the speaker. “It’s Logan and Dev. They crashed his bike.”

My stomach drops through the pavement. “What?”

“They were coming back, I think, and… fuck! I don’t know all the details yet, but Huck is Logan’s emergency contact and a cop called from the hospital. It's bad, Sal. Really bad.”

Shooting to my feet, I make a beeline for the truck. “Where are they? What hospital?”

Taylor rattles off the name, but it’s a blur through the sudden ringing in my ears. Every nerve in my body pulls taut.

“We’re on our way.”

“Salem—”

I hang up before he can finish, unable to handle any more words from him. Not right now.