“It’s not your fault,” she said loyally. “Those unavailable asshole types really know how to get under your skin.” “I guess.” I fidgeted in my chair. “But he was so different than those guys. He wasn’t a selfish jerk. He sewed my dress, and he brushed my hair, and he cooked for me—badly, but he tried—and he’s so protective and brave and determined to be a good father . . . he isn’t an asshole deep down, Ellie. I know he isn’t.” She eyeballed me over her shoulder. “Don’t tempt me to like him again. I don’t want to.” I bit my lip. “He rescued children from a burning house.” “Goddammit, Winnie.”
