Kane chuckles and heads to the fridge for creamer. “But Ten is just so… descriptive. And to the point.”

Guilt slashes through my stomach, burning me up and tearing at my heart as I sit in the Turners’ backyard and all my friends hang out. It’s like we’re in high school again. The skateboards are out. Jess is zooming along the halfpipe in her blades. Britt, no worse for wear after our night together, laughs and plays and ollies on the halfpipe, barely avoiding a collision with Jess every time they pass one another.

Scotch sits with his guitar, plucking away at the strings, and Ang tinkers with his car. Marc watches his sister, and Kari watches everyone else.

It’s like the old days where we had nothing to worry about except school on Monday and whatever fears Marc was working through in his mind.

But while everyone else is chill, I keep Kari in my peripherals and sit in my pool of shame. My horror and guilt. I baste in the hatred I hold for myself. And every now and then, I get caught staring because she cuts a look through the corner of her eyes and catches me.

How the fuck am I supposed to tell her I spent the night with her best friend? With her foster sister! How am I supposed to admit to what I did, when my spiel all along was for her to get out of this town and experience what everyone has to offer?

She did.

She literally did what I told her to do, and when I found out about it, I drank and made horrible choices.

“You look like you’re gonna be sick.” Scotch comes to a stop on my left, his frayed jeans in my peripherals and the myriad of leather bands he keeps on his wrists stop by his thighs when he drops his hands. He sets an old acoustic guitar on the concrete beside the porch, leaning it against the house. Then he drops down to sit beside me, his shoulder touching mine, and his feet coming up to perch on the porch step. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Are you still in love with Sammy?” I peel my eyes away from Kari and look at my friend instead. Though my question was cruel and uncalled for, Scotch’s eyes darken the moment my words register in his mind. “She was it for you, right? She was your everything.”

“So you’re going through an existential crisis of some sort, and instead of dealing with that in a healthy way, you thought it would be fun to toss me under the bus? Did it make you feel better?”

“No. Shit.” I lower my head and press the heels of my hands to my eyes. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just…”

“You’re having a crisis,” he repeats. “Fucked if I know what it is, Luca. Or who it’s about. But I see it in your eyes. You’re hurting.”

“Sammy’s been gone a few years now.” I turn my head and study the side of his angular face. “You married her, dude. You were expecting a baby. And then she just…”

“Left,” he nods. Then he sighs. “Yep.”

“I haven’t seen you with another woman since.” I swallow the ache in my throat and probe my temple with the pad of my thumb. Anything to combat the headache pulsing just below the skin. “I haven’t made it a mission to keep tabs on you or anything, but I’ve noticed. You aren’t bringing anyone else around.”

He places his hands together, twining his fingers and studying them like they hold the world’s secrets. “I suppose it’s one of those things. When you’ve loved the very best…”

“No one else will do.” I sigh. “Yeah. That’s what I figured.”

“I try. When we’re playing a set or whatever, and girls are looking up at us. It’s not so hard to pick up women when you’re the lead singer in a band,” he chuckles, though the sound is sad and weak at best. “I try to see them for who they are. I try to look into their eyes and not see Sammy.”

“But it doesn’t work? You can’t see past her?”

“I wish I could.” He glances down at his hands again and massages the center of his palm with the opposite thumb. “I seriously fucking wish I could.”

“Would you tell her?” I cast a look out at our friends, though I’m careful not to stop on Kari. Hell. I’m careful not to stop on Britt, too. “You’re not, like, together right now. It’s been years. So if you went to bed with someone else, would you feel you needed to tell her?”

He considers me for a long beat. Rolling his bottom lip between his teeth and humming something in the back of his throat. “I’m actually not sure. Assuming I knew where she was, and assuming we had a way to communicate, then… sure, I guess. I wouldn’t hide it from her. She left me, Luc. She ran away. So I don’t know that I’d feel guilty about it, if that’s what you mean.” Finally, he drags his gaze away from his hands and studies me. “Have you done something you probably shouldn’t have?”

“I mean…” I shrug. “Sort of. And not really. There’s this woman I’ve had feelings for, for a really long time.”

At that, his brow pops high on his forehead. “You?”

I choke out a soft, almost silent laugh. “Me. But this person and I aren’t really suited for each other. She has a life elsewhere. She even has a boyfriend, and that guy isn’t me.”

“I see.” He goes back to studying his hands. “Your heart wants what your heart wants. But your body, sometimes, does something else.”

“In a way. I guess.”

“So you hooked up with someone, and this someone isn’t the same someone your heart hurts for. And now you’re feeling guilty, even though, technically, you and the chick you have feelings for aren’t together.”

“In a nutshell.” I drag my head up and make a point of watching my sisters. Totally safe. Totally normal, protective, older brother stuff. “There’s a whole lot more between the lines. But that’s the gist of things.”