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In hindsight, I could’ve told my mother what I was doing so she could’ve called Katelyn and let her know I was coming, but I didn’t want to have to explain to my mom what I was doing here, especially when I don’t even know myself.

Somehow I think seeing Peyton will make everything better, that she’ll tell me I’m making the right decision and she’ll promise to always be there for me. As delusional as it all sounds, I need her to understand where I’m coming from. It’s not like I could’ve accused Dessie of cheating on me without any proof or claim the baby she’s carrying isn’t mine. Leaving Peyton in the hospital that day was the hardest thing I’ve done to date, but I have a feeling facing her today is going to be even harder.

As luck would have it, a car pulls up along the sidewalk and Ben gets out. Surely, he’ll have a code to get in.

“Noah, what’re you doing here?”

I point toward the house. “I’ve come to visit the Powell-James family, with gifts,” I say, holding up the bag of presents I swiped from behind our Christmas tree. I don’t know how long it’ll take before my mom realizes they’re gone, but I’m hoping to be back in Beaumont before she does. I have no idea if she planned to fly out here herself or if Katelyn and Harrison are planning a trip to Beaumont. I needed a viable excuse and this was it.

“Anything in there for me?” Ben asks, pulling the edge of the bag a bit.

“Somehow I think they’re for the twins and Quinn.”

“Figures. Come on, they’re expecting me and you’ll be a nice surprise.” Ben punches in a code and the door opens. I follow him through and into the house, which is empty, but as usual, the back wall of windows is wide open and the people I’ve known as my second family is outside. Their laughter is loud and inviting.

Ben steps out first and goes right to Peyton, while I watch from the entryway. He gives her a hug and she motions for someone to come over to them. I freeze at the sight of Kyle Zimmerman shaking hands with Ben, who happens to turn and look at me, followed by Peyton. She doesn’t look happy to see me at all, which is going to make my plea even harder.

I slip my shoes off and step out onto the sand. It’s a bit cold compared to what it usually is in the summer, but comfortable nonetheless. Elle comes over and gives me a hug, followed by Katelyn. “Quinn is out in the water,” Katelyn says, pointing over her shoulder. I don’t correct her. It’s probably safer for her to assume I’m here to see Quinn and not her daughter.

Except, Peyton is exactly who I want to see. I hand Katelyn the bag and trudge my way over to Peyton. I lean down and kiss her on the cheek, letting my lips linger there for a minute. “Can we talk in private?”

She shakes her head and shies away from me. I stay there a beat longer, hiding my rejection. As soon as I right myself, Zimmerman sticks his hand toward me. “Westbury, it’s good to see you again.”

“You too. What brings you to California?”

He shows me his leg as if it’s supposed to mean something to me. I shake my head, not understanding.

“He’s doing PT at Xander’s club,” Peyton says.

“And what about you? Are you working with Xander?”

Peyton sticks her leg out, which is clearly in a cast, but her arm seems to be in a brace. “Does it look like I can do anything? Do you see me sitting in this chair?”

The hostility rolls off her in droves. I’m tempted to pick her up and carry her back into the house so we can have a conversation, but I have a feeling she’ll kick me in the head with her leg if I even try to touch her.

Instead, I crouch down, so we’re eye level. I look into her baby blues, which she’s trying desperately to hide from me. “Hey, I really want to talk to you, Peyton, without everyone lurking.”

“Fine,” she says. Peyton stretches her arms up, indicating I need to pick her up. I carry her into the house and down the hall to her bedroom where I set her down on her bed. As much as I want to sit next to her, I don’t, but I do get on my knees and slide between her legs. She had unshed tears in her eyes, breaking my heart.

My hand rests on her waist, loving the way she feels. “Peyton, I’m so sorry about what I did in the hospital. Dessie’s pregnant and I–”

“Chose her.”

“I chose the baby.”

“That might not even be yours,” she says. I rock back and look at her. Peyton’s face is cold and defiant.

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