I nod. “Nice to meet you.”

  He smiles and then shoots Finley a quick look before saying, “Taylor is fine.”

  Finley ducks her head. “Well, she made it somewhere safely. We hope. She didn’t come home. I think she went traveling in search of warmer climates.” Her voice is dry. “Anyway. Are you getting some last-minute items for family dinner?”

  I rub the back of my neck. “Not really. My family went to Bermuda for Christmas.”

  She frowns. “Oh.” The single syllable is laced with a combination of concern and confusion.

  Ah. Maybe Taylor didn’t mention it was only the two of us.

  “It’s fine. I had work, and I have to hit the road again early tomorrow morning.” I shrug it off.

  “Work?” Archer asks. “So soon after the holidays?”

  “I have to evaluate some vegetation down in Florida.”

  Finley’s head cocks to one side. “That sounds interesting. What kind of work do you do?”

  “I’m a field botanist. I do botanical surveys and environmental inspections for utility and construction companies.”

  Her mouth pops open. “Really? That’s amazing.”

  Archer leans closer, his hand resting on Finley’s shoulder. “I imagine you’d have to be good at hiking and outdoor things and the like for your work?”

  I nod slowly. “Um. Yes.”

  Finley’s eyes trace over the contents of my shopping cart, which has beer, frozen lasagna, and ice cream, and her lips purse. “So, uh, what are you doing for Christmas dinner, since your family is gone?”

  I shrug. “No plans.”

  She and Archer exchange a glance and then Finley speaks. “I have an empty seat if you’re interested. You’ll have to put up with a cranky billionaire, a lot of insanity, and Jake’s bad jokes.”

  Archer chuckles, squeezing Finley’s shoulder. “If anything, it will be entertaining.”

  “I’m not sure. I don’t want to intrude.”

  Finley reaches out to touch my forearm. “Please. It’s the least we can do since you helped Taylor out yesterday.”

  It would be better than being alone. It’s not like I have anything else to do.

  I nod. “Count me in.”

  Chapter Five

  Six weeks later – February

  Taylor

  I knock on the half-open door before nudging it open the rest of the way. “Hey there, megafamous rock star.”

  Luke is alone, sitting on a wooden bench, with his guitar in his lap and legs stretched out in front of him, his cowboy boots propped up on a stool.

  He grins, setting the instrument to the side before standing and crossing over to draw me into a hug. “Hey, you. I’m so glad you could make it.”

  “Wouldn’t miss your debut for anything.”

  His brows lift, nearly hitting the shaggy, dirty-blond mop of hair brushing over his forehead. “Despite the fact that you’ll likely run into my better half?”

  I wince but force my mouth to curve into a smile. “I am a master of avoidance. I’m not worried about it.”

  We’re in the back room of the Mercury Lounge, a small but vibrant indie venue on the Lower East Side.

  It’s the first night of Luke’s upcoming tour. My sister Mindy signed him to her record label, and they are newly dating. Even though Mindy and I aren’t on the best of terms, Luke is already like a brother. He’s sweet, charming, charismatic, and has a killer voice.

  He tilts his head and considers me, his eyes gentle. “Forgiveness doesn’t mean ignoring what’s been done or minimizing your feelings about how you were treated. It takes a strong person to say they’re sorry, and an even stronger one to forgive.”

  I knew he would stick up for her, but the words sting anyway. “I guess I’m a weakling.”

  He winces. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone there, it’s not my place, I know that, and you are completely within your rights to smack me upside the head right now, it’s just—”

  I wave a hand. “I know. You love Mindy. You want her to be happy. I get it.”

  “I do, but I also want you to be happy. I owe you so much. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t be here as quickly if it weren’t for your intervention.”

  I duck my head. “It was no big deal.”

  Luke and Mindy were working on his first album when the producer she had arranged bailed. I hooked them up using some of my connections from the festival circuit.

  Mindy had had no other options at the time because so many in the industry refused to work with her due to some stupid scandal with one of her clients, a very married musician.

  I change the subject. “Tell me about your upcoming tour. Where are you going next?”

  We chat for a bit, and then I leave him to prepare for his upcoming set, heading back out to the front of the building, where the audience is waiting.

  It’s a small show. The only people invited were close friends and family of Luke and Mindy.

  I’m rounding a corner in a narrow hallway near the stage when I run into someone coming in the opposite direction.

  “Sorry. Oh.” Mindy startles when her eyes lock with mine, lifting a hand halfway to her mouth.

  Great. I guess I’m not the master of avoidance.

  I grit my teeth and shift to move around her.

  “Thank you for coming.” Her voice is soft with sincerity.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I keep my gaze over her shoulder. I can’t look her in the eyes, the same dark, expressive eyes that Jake has. That Aria had.

  “I came for Luke.” Not for you.

  “Right.” She ducks her head. “I know he appreciates it.”

  I step around her.

  “Wait, Taylor.”

  I sigh but come to a stop. It would be immature to stomp away like some kind of preteen. I can take the high road.

  The high-ish road.

  “What?”

  “I wanted to thank you for everything you did with Ursula and Laila, and if you ever want to . . . I don’t know, work in the music industry in any capacity, I would be happy to introduce you to people or return the favor in any way I can.”

  I stare at her. What is she expecting from me? She treated me terribly for years, and now she wants to act like it’s all fine, like the past can be erased, like the ache from her sharp words, drilled into me time and time again, no longer matters. Like those wounds have healed without leaving scars. “If that was something I wanted to do, I wouldn’t need your help.”

  She winces. “I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

  I blow out a breath, irritation crawling over me like bees on a honeycomb. “You don’t have to keep doing this.”

  “Doing what?”

  I flick a hand at her. “Being all nice or whatever. It’s weird.”

  “Taylor, I don’t want it to be weird. I want to be nice to you.”

  “It’s great you’ve made your peace with all the crap you put me through, but I haven’t. Can’t we ignore each other?”

  She takes a breath and releases it before speaking. “I get it. I was terrible. I can respect your wishes and leave you alone if that’s what you want. I won’t talk to you unless strictly necessary.”

  Even though it’s hurting her. The remorse is etched into the frown marring her face.

  A sliver of regret pierces me in the chest, but I shove it down and harden my resolve. Mindy never cared about all the times she hurt me. Why should I care now? This is nothing more than karma.

  “Perfect.” I step around the corner, ready to escape this entire conversation, but then the crowd comes into view and my eyes land on a familiar face.

  A familiar, handsome face.

  The face of the man who gave me multiple orgasms before I promptly fell asleep and then cut and run the next morning with nothing more than a three-word note.

  “Shit.” I pull back behind the corner, out of sight of the audience beyond the stage. My heart gallops in my chest.

  I haven’t been back home since Christmas and one of the big reasons is standing out in the crowd, next to Finley.

  What is he doing here?

  Embarrassed heat rolls through me. Our night together was one of the most intense experiences . . . ever.

  And then I bailed.

  So long and thanks for all the orgasms.

  Mindy’s brows furrow. “What are you doing?”

  I peek around the wall. “Nothing.” I pull back again.

  Damn, he looks good. Even better than the rose-colored memories I’ve been trying to forget.

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine,” I repeat. I don’t know who I’m trying to convince more. Mindy or myself.

  “It’s obviously not nothing.” Mindy steps past me, scanning the audience. “Who are you scared of?”

  “I’m not scared of anyone.”

  “Then go out there.” She gestures.

  I can’t control it. I glance out into the crowd again, picking out Atticus’s head easily since it’s above the rest of the room before I draw back again.

  Mindy’s eyes follow my gaze, then sharpen. “Are you avoiding Finley?”

  Damn nosy siblings. “No.”

  “Is it one of her employees?”

  Employees? Finley mentioned she hired some counselors and scientists for the specialized camps, and that she would be bringing them to New York to combine some kind of team building with Luke’s show.

  But does that mean . . . is Atticus working for Finley? For my family?

  My stomach dips like I’m in an elevator and it hit the bottom floor.

  If Atticus is working at the camp, we will cross paths every time I go home.

  What if he hates me? Does Finley know? Did he tell everyone how we . . . ?

  No. No way. Of course he didn’t tell them. Finley would have said something. Jake would have given me so much shit. I would never hear the end of it. Do I have to talk to him? I have to at least clear the air. I can’t let my family sense anything amiss.

  “Hey. Who’s the big guy?” Mindy points, her words cutting into the panicked thoughts swirling around me like a tornado.

  I follow the line of her finger.

  Of course she would immediately zero in on Atticus.

  His head turns and he looks straight at us.

  I grab her arm and yank her back behind the wall and out of view. “Could you be any more obvious?”

  She bites her lip, ineffectively hiding her amusement. “Is he an ex-boyfriend?”

  “No,” I snap.

  “Do you wish he was?”

  I groan and cover my face with both hands.

  “It must be something juicy if you’re willing to spend extra minutes with me to avoid him.”

  Laughter bubbles up in my throat, and I cut it off with a cough. I don’t want to be amused by Mindy. I don’t want to remember how close we were, once upon a time. “Ugh. You are the literal worst.”

  Straightening, I stalk past her, down the side of the stage, and through the gathering crowd, losing sight of him amongst the revelers.

  Might as well bite the bullet. The longer I wait, the weirder it will be when we inevitably encounter each other again.

  An assortment of colognes mixed with a whiff of stale beer assaults my nostrils as I wind through the clumps of onlookers, moving in the general direction of where Atticus was standing.

  What am I going to say? Hi, how are you, thanks for all the orgasms, sorry for running away?

  “Taylor!” Finley tugs me into a hug. “There you are. Jake said you were here. I thought maybe you already left.”

  She doesn’t say again, but the word echoes in the air between us anyway.

  Finley’s mouth is spread in a smile, but there’s strain around the edges.

  “We’ve been having such a great trip. Oliver met all the new hires and he behaved almost like a normal human.”

  She launches into some story about the first spring camp scheduled for April, and I half pay attention and half keep a side-eye out for Atticus.

  Where did he go?

  I hate that things are weird with Finley. I want to tell her everything. About Atticus, about what happened, about the mom search, but I can’t. I’ve created this wedge between us.

  What is it about guilt and family and how you can’t have one without the other? Or is it just us?

  “I have to pee.” The words erupt from my mouth, overly loud, cutting Finley off while she rants about Oliver and his inability to compromise over something with the camp.

  Her mouth freezes, half open.

  I spin around and run into a broad chest, assailed by the faint scent of cedar mixed with fresh soap.

  Atticus. His hands cover my shoulders, warm and familiar.

  I force myself to meet his gaze. Our eyes lock and fire zings down my body, sparking over my skin.

  Arousal splashes over me like he just turned on a horny shower.

  “Hey, there . . . you.” I clear my suddenly dry throat. “It’s, uh, so nice to see you again.” I finish with a super cool light arm punch.

  Someone stop me before I make it worse.

  Chapter Six

  Atticus

  “It’s nice to see you too.” I duck my head and lower my voice. “Empress of Awesome, was it?”

  It’s the lamest joke I’ve ever made to anyone, ever, but her eyes light up and she releases a surprised chuckle, the outcome worth the risk of humiliation.

  She’s wearing a flowy, long-sleeved bohemian dress with a chunky silver necklace and high, fringed boots. My mind explodes with images. What would she look like with only the boots and those long legs wrapped around my hips?

  I swallow, hard.

  Her eyes widen, cheeks highlighted pink. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Finley didn’t tell her that I accepted a job with Camp Aria.

  Before I can respond, Eve steps up beside me, her arm brushing mine.

  “Is this Taylor?” She sticks her hand out smiling broadly. “I’ve heard so much about you from your family. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

  Finley motions to Eve. “Eve is one of our new instructors. She just got accepted into a PhD program in astrobiology, so we have her until next term when she goes back to school. And of course you know Atticus, he’s one of our full-time staff now. His botany background is perfect for the science and hiking retreats.”

  Taylor nods, her eyes darting to the minuscule space between me and Eve before she asks Eve more about her field of study.

  Eve laughs at something Taylor said, leaning closer into my side, and nudging me with an elbow.

  I smile down at Eve and then meet Taylor’s narrowed eyes.

  Is that jealousy in her gaze? No, it can’t be.

  Eve and I only met a couple of weeks ago, but she’s been flirtatious, dropping some hints that she might be interested in a less platonic relationship.

  Eve is intelligent and kind. She’s also attractive in a classical way, with her straight blond hair, bright blue eyes, and pearly white smile, but there’s no spark. Besides, we work together. I’m technically her boss, and she’s moving across the country in six months for her doctorate.

  People across the room clap, the sound spreading like a wave to the rest of the room.

  Luke takes his place on the stage, waving at the crowd and sitting up on a stool with his guitar in his hands.

  He adjusts the microphone and then leans forward to speak. “Thank you everyone for being here tonight, the very first night of my very first tour.”

  The crowd cheers, shouts echoing to the ceiling.

  “I appreciate every person in this room tonight, all my friends and family here to help send me off. I would be remiss, though, if I didn’t take a moment to thank the person who’s responsible for us all being here tonight.” His gaze points over at the corner of the stage. “I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for one woman. Mindy, I don’t know what I did to deserve someone who taught me not only to believe in myself but to believe in love. This one is for you.”

  The crowd gives a chorus of awws.

  Luke strums his guitar and then he sings, something about waking up and missing something real.

  It’s slow and sweet, and clearly written for Mindy.

  Eve shifts on her feet next to me, only a few inches on my left. Taylor is on my other side, a couple of feet away, arms crossed over her chest.

  Even though Taylor is farther away, the air between us simmers with electric tension.

  The first song ends to a chorus of raucous cheers and whoops. Luke switches to a faster, livelier tune and the crowd goes wild.

  Finley jumps up and down, jostling Taylor and shoving her into my side.

  Our arms brush and electricity sparks from the point of contact through the rest of my body, the reaction immediate.

  “Sorry,” she murmurs.

  I nod and face forward, hyperaware of her every breath and twitch.

  Energy crackles where our arms are separated by a mere inch.

  My heart pounds so hard, the beat must be echoing through the room in time with the beat of the music.

  Our fingers brush.

  It’s only a second. Maybe less than a second, but something in my chest clenches and releases.

  It was an accident. Must have been.

  But then she shifts closer, and our hands brush again, and this time, she doesn’t pull away.

  Neither do I.

  The entire room goes fuzzy. Forgotten. Inconsequential. It’s only me and Taylor and the centimeter of her skin against mine.

  It’s nothing and everything.

  I’m thrown back in time to the sofa, Taylor half naked and spread out in front of me like a decadent buffet. My scalp prickles at the memory of her fingers clenching in my hair.

  My body tightens and hardens.

  I want her more than I want my next breath.

 

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