Scandalise Me. Caitlin Crews

eyes, had spent all of their traditional Grant family Christmas up in Maine sighing heavily every time she’d found herself alone with him. As if his expulsion from football had finally forced even her to see him the way everyone else did.

      “You should have sent a bouquet, Austin,” Hunter said now. “Much less drama and disappointment all around.”

      Later, he sat in the dark, with only the television for company, and told himself he liked it that way.

      He was thirty-three years old and he’d alienated every single person who’d ever meant something to him. Some men earned their lives of quiet desperation, their solitary confinement. An empty house, an abandoned life, another long winter all alone.

      Zoe Brook was kidding herself: there was no rehabilitating him. There was no point pretending.

      Hunter had never been destined for anything but this.