“They might protest,” Whip agrees. “But deep down they know it’s true.”

“Women should come with instructions.” Rye takes a sip of his beer and stares down at the bottle. “Or a warning label.”

Killian laughs. “They do, man. You just have to learn how to read them. Problem is, most of us don’t learn how until a woman has knocked us on our asses. Trial by fire, my friends. And you will burn.”

“Killian James, prophet of doom,” I say, knowing he’s right. And hating it.

“Look,” he kicks my foot. “You fucked up. Now you gotta go make a gesture that shows her she’s the most important person in your life.”

“Should I go sing a song that calls her an easy lay?” I ask. Which is low, because that was Killian’s mistake with Libby.

The guys snicker, and Killian kicks me again. “I married the girl, jackass, so I won.”

Marriage isn’t something I’ve ever wanted, or even considered. But I could marry Sophie. I picture it: my ring on her finger, all my assets guaranteed to go to her. She’d be financially safe for life. She’d be mine for life. And instead of the future being a blank wall I never examine, it would be sunshine and light. It would be her happy laughter and soft warmth. Perfection.

Yearning adds to the ache in my heart.

I haul myself up, wincing at the pain in my chest and stomach. “Everyone out. I have gestures to plan.”

“Thatta boy, Scottie.” Rye slaps my shoulder. “Just, whatever you do, don’t make it a Star Trek theme.”

Because I know it will please them, I flip the finger as I head toward the shower.

My progress stops when Brenna bursts into the room.

“You complete asshole,” she says by way of greeting.

“I see you’ve been talking to Sophie.” I refrain from demanding where she is and how she’s doing. But only just.

Brenna sneers. “Did you really tell Jules to send Sophie home? Like she’s some fucking lackey you can fob off when things get difficult?”

My blood runs cold. “What?”

“Sophie heard you telling Jules to put her on a plane. Not first class this time? Ring a fucking bell?”

“Oh, shit,” Rye says somewhere behind me.

I ignore him, horror prickling my skin and making my ears ring. Sophie thinks I want her gone? No wonder she appeared so hurt, lashing out at me like the walking wounded. And I gave her space with that to brood on all night.

“I was talking about Jennifer, the sodding roadie who let that fuckwit Martin into Jax’s room! Sophie is my life, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh,” Brenna says, looking pleased. “Well, that’s good.” But then her happy face falls. “Actually, it’s bad.”

“Why?” It’s all I can do not to grab Brenna and shake her.

Brenna’s nose wrinkles. “She, ah, left a note saying she was going ‘on walkabout’.”

“What the fuck is a walkabout?” I roar.

“Crocodile Dundee,” Killian calls out behind me. “You know, when he went roaming around the outback?”

Sweet hell, my girl is a nut. An adorable little nut.

“Where is she walking about?” I grit out.

Brenna grimaces. “Australia. Her flight leaves at five.”

My girl is an adorable, misguided, evil nut who I’m going spank as soon as I get my hands on her. I need to get to her. Oh, God help me, I need to make that gesture Killian was going on about.

I might truly be ill when it’s all said and done. But I can do this. For her, I’ll do anything.

I let out a breath and shove my hands into my hair to hold my pounding head.

“All right,” I say. “All right, I need help, and I need it now.”

And my mates, God love them all, rise to the occasion.

“What do you need, Scottie?”

“I need my lawyer, and I need to get on that plane.” I’ll make the rest up as I go along.

 

* * *

 

Sophie

 

* * *

 

They say you never really know what you have until you lose it. I’m not sure how accurate that is. I know what I have with Gabriel is something special, a connection few people are lucky enough to find. And yet here I sit on a plane that’s getting ready to take me away from him.

Of all the rash, impulsive things I’ve done in my life, this one really takes the cake.

I’m so angry with myself that my nails are digging into the meat of my palms. I should have stayed and apologized for not explaining things straightaway, for saying hurtful words in an attempt to protect myself. Gabriel deserves that. He deserves the world. A few asshole comments aside, he is the best man I have ever known. And I want to continue to know him, to care for him.

A passenger headed down the aisle bumps my shoulder with her butt and mutters a quick apology as she angles her way down the narrow passage. First class, this is not.

With my salary, I could have paid for a premium-fare ticket. But I couldn’t fly that way. Not without him by my side. Luxury has lost its luster without Gabriel to share the experience.

“Shit.” I grab my purse and yank it from beneath the seat in front of me.

The man sitting next to me sends a curious glance my way.

“I have to go,” I tell him, as if he needs to know.

Dude gives me a salute as I scramble from my seat.

It isn’t easy, navigating up the aisle while everyone else is boarding. I’m a salmon fighting my way upstream. Frustration prickles at my lids. I need off this plane. I need Gabriel.

A flight attendant sees the struggle and meets me at the first emergency exit. “Is there a problem, miss?”

“No problem.” I haul my purse strap higher up my shoulder. “I just need to get off.”

She slowly looks me over.

Great, I’m probably broadcasting crazy. Not something you ever want to do on an airplane.

“Are you Ms. Sophie Darling?”

“Ah…yes?”

She smiles, going from weary to strangely affectionate. “Bene. I was on my way to find you.”

“You were?” Shit, what did I do?

She links her arm with mine. “Come with me.”

I follow, because what else can I do? People give me looks, and I look right back. Hey there, tell my story if I’m Tasered, okay?