Heath took Dad back to his place since the windows were blown out of our childhood home from the force of the blast that destroyed the Hennessys’ house next door. The city had announced that all affected dwellings must be inspected and cleared before people could return, so it was going to be at least a week before Dad would be allowed to move back in.

I would have offered a bedroom, but I wasn’t sure how long I was staying in town. After I saw how bad Dad’s arthritis had gotten, I decided a few days would be a good idea. It didn’t seem like he was taking care of himself the way he should, and his repeated questions about his uniform seemed like more than normal forgetfulness.

Carver, my driver for the time I was in New Orleans, navigated the streets toward the house I’d rented on Lake Pontchartrain. My last-minute travel plans didn’t leave me with many options, but this place worked out well. Tonight, I planned to indulge in a glass or two of bourbon, a bubble bath, and sleep. What I wasn’t looking forward to was the call that was supposed to be coming from my on-again/off-again boyfriend, Carlos. We were overdue to be off again.

My phone chimed in my purse and I pulled it out. Heath.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“I tracked down Rhett and I’m heading to the bar. You should come. I know you missed him at the funeral.”

My brother knew about my crush. In fact, he’d gone out of his way to make sure everyone knew about my crush. Even now, I wasn’t above putting him on the no-fly list out of spite for the angst he’d caused me as a self-conscious teenager.

I opened my mouth to decline because saying “no” to social activities that required leaving my house was normally one of my favorite things, but something stopped me. One of my other special skills was avoiding reality when I didn’t want to deal with it, and finding the right words to tell Carlos that we were done fell firmly into that category.

“Where are you going?”

“Molly’s on Toulouse. You know the place, right? I know you’ve barely been home in the last decade, but you should remember a few things.” Bitterness crept into Heath’s tone.

“Twice. I’ve been home twice in the last decade, and yes, I remember where Molly’s is.” Did I sound defensive? Maybe.

“Good. Meet us there.” He ended the call without waiting for a response.

Ugh. I hesitated for a full sixty seconds before asking Carver to change direction.

The last time I went to Molly’s was when I was twenty-one and finally feeling like I’d come into my own. Four years in California not giving a shit about what anyone thought, along with developing and selling a few apps while I was in college, had improved my confidence measurably, not to mention my finances.

It had only taken one night at Molly’s to grind all that newfound cool-kid attitude into dust, though, and of course it was all because of one guy. Rhett Hennessy. I swear, he could be linked to every good and bad memory I had in this town, which probably had something to do with why I only came back when it was absolutely necessary.

To this day, I hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to walk into that bar with my newly legal ID and see my brother and Rhett in the middle of a group of girls vying for their attention, each one taller, skinnier, and prettier than me. I was going through my Cali no-fucks-given phase, so I was wearing ripped boyfriend jeans and a worn white T-shirt shredded on the sides with a black bra under it. For me, it was the height of daring, especially knowing who I would be seeing.

Except Rhett hadn’t teased me like usual. Hadn’t asked me why I’d stolen his T-shirt (except I hadn’t . . . not this time). No, he’d ignored me. Pretended I didn’t exist.

The only saving grace was that he’d been blind to the pack of girls too, or so I’d thought. When he left an hour after I arrived, and I might have kept track down to that last minute, one particularly gorgeous stacked blonde exited the bar through the same door two minutes later.

The next morning at breakfast with my dad, I caught a glimpse of Heath’s texts with Rhett giving him shit about going home with someone.

I still couldn’t help but wonder if the escape happened because he was taking pity on me, not wanting me to see him leave with someone else because he knew about my ridiculous crush. How pathetic, right?

But tonight, I wasn’t worried about any of that. Not my crush, not the past. Tonight was about helping an old friend, even if I used the term loosely, escape from some heavy stuff. My heart clenched when I thought of how Rhett must be feeling. His father, the man he’d looked up to his whole life, had been accused of terrible things. And then to know his dad had been blown up? Possibly by his own hand?

I cringed at the horrific reality.

Honor was a cornerstone of Rhett’s character, and to think that his father had betrayed what he held most dear . . . how devastating.

Carver navigated his way through traffic and pedestrians to get as close to the bar as possible. “Would you like me to park and find a discreet place to wait inside?”

What he really meant was will extra security be necessary? But with Heath and Rhett both there, I wasn’t worried about my safety.

“You don’t need to stay. Go find a place to grab dinner, and I’ll text when I’m ready. I’ll be a few hours.” Long enough to miss any potential call with Carlos.

“Yes, ma’am. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Carver.” I hopped out of the car and headed for the door to the bar.

Molly’s was a bit of a dive. Even with its proximity to Bourbon Street, it had a distinctly different crowd from the tourist-jammed bars a hundred yards away. Locals filled the stools here.

“Flounder! You made it!”

The yell came from beyond the pool table, where my brother and Rhett had taken up position at a high-top with a bottle of whiskey between them.

That mental groan? It was for my childhood nickname being shouted across the bar.

Cue the question I’d gotten all too often during my life: are you named after the little mermaid? Why, yes. Yes, I was.

My mother was diagnosed with cancer while she was pregnant with me, and lack of medical technology at the time meant she couldn’t be treated until after I was born. I lived, and she didn’t. I steeled myself for the full-body wave of emptiness that came every time I thought about the woman who gave up her life so I could have one. My eyes burned with familiar tears.

How can I miss someone so badly when I never knew her? My logical mind railed at me every time, but there was no reasoning away the pain. My brother didn’t realize that every time he used that nickname, it reminded me of the story my dad had told me about my mom spending her whole pregnancy watching Disney movies and telling me all the things she wouldn’t be able to share with me as I grew up.

How different would my life have been if I’d had a mom? Rhett might have just lost his dad today, but despite everything that happened, he had over thirty years of good memories he could recall, regardless of whether the last one was shit. I didn’t even have that. I had nothing. The sense of loss dogged my every step as I blinked back tears and crossed the floor, avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Shut up, Scuttle.” My brother laughed as I reached the table, the scent of whiskey wafting off him.

Another couple of blinks and I finally looked up. Bam. Rhett’s brilliant green gaze slammed into mine.

“And miss my chance to tease my little sister in person for a night? Not likely. You don’t give me enough opportunity, so I gotta get it in while I can.”

It was another jab at how rarely I came home, but I ignored it.

“How’s it going, Ari?” Rhett asked, his voice rumbled as deeply as I remembered.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. I didn’t get to tell you that earlier. I meant to. Just missed you at the service,” I blurted, finally getting my chance to pay my respects.

Rhett’s gaze dipped to his whiskey glass. “Not talking ’bout that tonight.” He tossed back all three fingers in a single gulp.

I didn’t watch the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Okay, that’s a lie.

“Duly noted.” My words came out bright and chirpy, at least until I choked on the saliva in my mouth and coughed twice. I’m such a hot mess.

Heath raised a hand to signal the waitress. “We need another glass over here.”

“I’m more of a bourbon fan than whiskey these days,” I mumbled as I pretended to study the drawings carved into the table. Wait, is that an abnormally large penis and hairy ball sac? No longer pretending, I tilted my head to fully appreciate the detailed carving. Impressive.

“Guess you’re gonna have to slum it with us anyway,” Rhett replied.

My attention snapped to him as his gaze traveled up from my hips to my face.

Is Rhett Hennessy checking me out? Surely not. I had to be wrong. Heat started in my belly and licked up my chest and face.

“Balls,” I blurted. Oh no. I did not.

Both my brother and Rhett stared at me.

“What?” Rhett asked, probably thinking he heard me wrong.

I pointed to the table. “Dick and balls. Good work. Nice shape. Could use a few more veins.” Oh sweet Jesus, someone shut me up before the verbal mudslide starts.

Heath’s laugh boomed through the bar.

Why am I talking about penises? My gaze darted to Rhett’s lap, and my cheeks burned as I looked away.

Great, now I’m going to be as red as my hair. I had to distract myself from the disaster. I snatched Heath’s glass and tossed back the liquor.

Oh shit, that burns too. I coughed as soon as I swallowed, trying to mask it by clearing my throat. At least now I have an excuse for the tears in my eyes.

“Good stuff,” I said, attempting nonchalance as I set the glass back down on top of the bar version of a dick pic.

The corner of Rhett’s mouth tugged upward in a semblance of a smile.

Heath choked, sounding like he was hacking up a lung as he tried to stop laughing, slapping the table and nearly toppling the bottle of whiskey. “Damn, my little sister is all grown up, and I missed most of it.” He grabbed the glass and sloshed another measure of booze in it.

Rhett’s partial smile disappeared.

“I swear,” Heath said to me, “I spend more time talking to your assistants than I do with you. I’m tight with Erik and Esme.”

Deep slashes appeared between Rhett’s brows. “You have two assistants?”

Before I could reply, Heath jumped in. “Yeah. In case you didn’t know, my little sister is kind of a badass these days.” He gave Rhett a quick rundown of my accomplishments over the last few years, stunning me by how much he knew about my adult life, considering he hadn’t played much of a role in it.

Rhett’s expression was unreadable.

Oh, great. Now I was the geeky girl who also happened to be a workaholic.

At that moment, I would have given anything, even my prized Funko Pop! collection, to know what was going through Rhett’s head.