At some point during the scuffle, Logan pops his head in. “Never mind.” Then he backs out and closes the door.

Eventually, we call a draw, both too bloody worn out to continue. We sit on the floor, breathing hard, leaning back against the wall.

Henry tests his lip where a trickle of blood drips. “You’re really angry?”

“Yes, Henry, I really am. I was planning on staying the summer here, in New York. With Olivia. Thanks to your little stunt, I can’t do that now.”

He looks confused. “I thought you said she was underage.”

And I pray for patience. “That was Ellie. Olivia is the dark-haired one.”

“Oh.” I feel him staring at me. “You really like her, then.”

“Yes,” I agree, my voice rough and raw. “I do. And when we leave, I’ll never see her again.”

“But, why not?”

And it’s only then that I remember how long he’s been away. There’s so much he doesn’t know.

I look my little brother in the face…and he does seem frighteningly tired.

“A lot’s been happening. I’ll explain tomorrow, after you’ve gotten a good night’s sleep.”

I stand up, brush my trousers off and straighten my collar. “I’m going to see Olivia. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Just as I reach the door, Henry calls my name. I turn around.

“I’m sorry, Nicholas. I’m sorry that I ruined all your plans.”

And the bracelets on my wrist seem to hug tighter.

I walk back to him and crouch down. Then I roll up my sleeve, unclip the silver bracelet and pool it in his upturned palm. Henry’s eyes mist over as he looks at it.

“You kept it safe for me.”

“Of course I did.” I rest my forehead against his, squeezing the back of his head with my hand. “It’s good to have you back, Henry. Everything’s going to be all right now, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It’s just after sunrise when I pull up to the back alley behind Amelia’s. Again. The sky is still pink and gray and I know the sign in the front window still reads CLOSED. I walk through the now spotless kitchen and follow the sound of soft music to the dining area.

Then I cross my arms, lean against the propped open doorway, and enjoy the show.

Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers sing on the television—a song about islands in streams—and Olivia sweeps the floor with a broom, unaware of my presence.

But she’s not just sweeping—she’s dancing.

Arse-shaking, hip-swiveling, knee-bending, gorgeous dancing—occasionally sliding down and up the broomstick like it’s a pole or a microphone.

Christ, she’s lovely.

My lips stretch into a smile and my cock goes so hard it’s painful.

Silently, I slip up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, making her squeak and the broomstick crack when it hits the floor. She turns in my arms, her hands locked around my neck—pressing against me, all warmth and goodness.

“I’m a much better partner than a broomstick.”

She arches her pelvis, pressing and rubbing against my erection.

“And better endowed.” Olivia reaches up and kisses my mouth so sweetly. “How’s Henry?”

I stroke her hair and gaze at her face, feeling like a hole’s opening up inside me. A barren, painful emptiness that’s an echo of how it felt when they told me my mother was gone.

“I have to leave, Olivia. We have to go home.”

She stops dancing. Her delicate hands grasp me tighter, and her mouth narrows into a sad little bud.

“When?” she asks in a soft voice.

“Two days.”

Her gaze touches my eyes, my lips, my jaw, as if she’s committing them all to memory. Then she lowers her head, resting her cheek against my chest, right over my heartbeat.

Dolly and Kenny sing about sailing away together…to another world.

“That soon?”

I press her closer. “Yes.”

We start to rock together in time to the music—and suddenly the words just come out.

“Come with me.”

Olivia’s head pops up. “What?”

The more I talk, the more brilliant the idea becomes. “Spend the summer in Wessco with me. You can stay in the palace.”

“The palace?”

“I’ll take care of everything. I’ll show you the city—it’s beautiful, especially at night. It’ll take your breath away. And I’ll take you to the seaside—we’ll swim naked in the waves and freeze our arses off.”

She laughs, and I’m laughing with her.

“It’ll be an adventure, Olivia.” I run my thumb across her cheek. “I’m not ready for this to be over yet. Are you?”

She leans into my touch. “No.”

“Then say yes. Come with me.”

Consequences be damned.

Her eyes are shiny with hope, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

She holds me close and tells me, “Nicholas…I…I can’t.”

IT’s NOT THE ANSWER he’s expecting. It’s not the one I want to give. But it’s the only option. His holds me roughly, almost desperately.

“I want to, Nicholas—God, I want to. But I just can’t leave.”

There’s a crash from the kitchen—the harsh gong of metal pans hitting the floor. And then my little sister literally falls into the room.