What should’ve been a celebration of my bestie finally marrying the man of her dreams turned into a nightmare with the lift of a skirt. Being caught looking like I was just royally screwed certainly wasn’t the way I intended on breaking the news to the boys, had I decided to tell them at all. The worst part was seeing the look on Allen’s face and knowing I had lied to him. As a single parent, I’ve always tried to be as open and honest about everything as humanly possible, and the boys know that. Now that I’ve broken their trust, what’s stopping them from breaking mine? Fine example of parenting, Katie.

Allen gives me the cold shoulder for the remainder of the night until we’re leaving the clubhouse. The moment I crawl into the passenger’s seat beside Connor, he pops his head between us from the back seat. “Are you fucking Braden?”

Oh…my god. Here we go again. I grumble to myself as I lean back into the soft leather seat of Connor’s high school graduation present from his Uncle Charlie. I think the used BMW was more of a peace offering than anything after they survived an ugly fight, but then Charlie decided to give Allen one for his graduation too, making things between his nephews fair.

“Well are you fucking him or not?” Allen demands.

“Do you have to be so crass?” I mutter in response, stalling until I can come up with an answer that won’t send him charging back inside after Braden.

“What the hell does it matter?” Connor asks, glancing at his brother as he backs out from the parking stall. “Mom doesn’t ask about the skanks you’re sleeping with at school.”

“Hold on.” I turn to Allen with a scolding glare. “You’re sleeping with skanks? As in plural? Please tell me you’re being careful. If you catch something or get some random girl pregnant, so help me—”

“It doesn’t matter who I sleep with!” he snaps. For the first time I notice there’s a slight slur to his words, like he’s been drinking. I wouldn’t put it past my brother to have bought him a few drinks tonight. “I’m young! I can do stupid shit like that! But you’re too old to be whoring around with guys Connor’s age!”

Before I have a chance to react, Connor slams on the breaks and has his brother’s shirt in his fist. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you hear what you just said to your mother? What the hell’s going on with you lately?”

“Get off me!” Red faced, Allen wrangles Connor’s hand from his shirt and springs away from him. “I’ll find my own way back!” He jumps out of the car, slamming the door before he storms back into the building. His anger lingers in the air, coiling my stomach into knots. I’ve done a stellar job with that one.

Turning to Connor, I reach for my phone and pull up Charlie’s number. “Was he drinking tonight?”

“I think he had a couple,” Connor admits sheepishly. “Didn’t figure you’d care since I was driving tonight.”

Charlie answers after the third ring. “Hey, Kate. What’s up?”

“Allen’s in a bad mood, and you’re probably well aware that he’s a little drunk. Can you and Ev make sure he gets home in one piece and doesn’t start anything with…anyone? He’s heading back into the clubhouse now.”

“I only gave him a few beers.” He chuckles quietly, as if to himself. “Unless he’s a lightweight, he was getting more from someone else.”

“Great,” I mutter. “Looks like I’ll be spending tomorrow night babysitting.”

“I’m sure Ev wouldn’t mind helping keep an eye on him at the wedding since she can’t drink anyway,” Charlie offers. “I’ll mention it to her.”

“Thanks, Char. You’re the best.”

After I hang up, Connor looks at me expectantly. “Are we good to go?”

Sinking back into the seat, I throw a hand over my forehead to massage the start of a headache. “Yeah. Take me home, bud.”

Silence stretches between us as Connor drives through the bustling city toward Brooklyn Bridge with the radio quietly playing a mix of rock that includes a new single from Charlie’s band. Through the passenger’s window I watch as buildings, people, and cars pass by in a blur. For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved the magical feel of Manhattan all lit up at night. But tonight a part of me longs for the solitude and peaceful quiet of Oceanside. Watching the sunset on the beach in Braden’s arms tops my list of all-time favorite memories.

Gah, I never last long without Braden sneaking into my thoughts. And once I’ve acknowledged him, the confessions from earlier come flooding back with a rippling shiver. “Unless you can swear on your life that you don’t think you could ever be in love with me, I’m not walking away from you, Katie. I won’t give up because I’m in love with you.”

While I was in California, we both threw the term “making love” around recklessly. There’s no doubt I felt a deeper connection with him. But is what I’m feeling love? It’s been so damn long since I’ve felt that way about another human who wasn’t related by blood. And how does Braden know what he’s feeling isn’t just some sexual connection at a higher level, or even an obsession with how I made him feel? How do you know when the line between desire and love has been crossed?

I love that I can be myself around him, and I love it when he makes me laugh. I love the way he makes me feel about myself, love it when he calls me “beautiful.” I love his confidence and the way he takes charge in the bedroom. I love having him buried so deep inside that it’s hard to tell where I end and where he begins. So how do I know if I’m in love or I simply love being with him?

“Looks like you're thinking really hard over there,” Connor comments as we’re ascending the bridge. “Allen’s in shock. He just needs a little time to process everything.”

I glance over at my oldest son’s handsome profile, trying to remember the exact moment he went from being a self-righteous little prick to the considerate gentleman sitting beside me. I’ll always be thankful he took on a sharp jaw, full lips, and thick eyebrows same as his Uncle Charlie, and not his deadbeat father’s weasel-like features.

“And how is it you’re being so cool with this?” I ask.

His smile gleams beneath the lights hanging from the bridge’s cables. “I’ve known for a long time that you had a thing for Braden. I figure good for you for going after something you want. My friends have always called you a ‘MILF,’ so I’m not all that surprised you hooked up with someone younger. And Braden’s a cool guy. At least you didn’t end up with some disrespectful douche-bag that got on my nerves.”

Astonished by his candor, I blink heavily as I stare at him. “Your friends called me a ‘MILF’?” I’m not sure if I’m flattered or horrified. In a million years I wouldn’t have hooked up with a minor, but did I inadvertently flirt with his friends?

“Come on, Mom. You know you’re hot. Why do you think even when I was in high school my buddies always wanted to stay over at the Hamptons place? Most guys don’t have sleepovers at that age unless they’re drunk.”

“You still did plenty of that too,” I remind him with a roll of my eyes. Technically, I never categorized myself as being “hot.” At least not until I started sleeping with Braden. “God, please tell me I didn’t dress provocatively when they were around. I never stopped to consider I was fueling pubescent fantasies.”

“Trust me, I would’ve said something if you were dressed inappropriately. I had a hard enough time dealing with Trevor playing that fucking Mrs. Robinson song on repeat.”

Laughing, I cover my face with my hands. “Oh shit! I’ll never be able to look at Trevor the same! Don’t tell me any more!”

“You don’t have to worry about Trev. I’m pretty sure he’s going to marry Stephanie.” When I drop my hands from my face, he’s clutching the steering wheel and staring ahead with a thoughtful expression. “So who else knows about you two? Is this thing serious?”

My stomach does a little flip. How much should I tell him? I can’t keep hiding things from my sons, but I don’t want to get them too involved if Braden and I are finished anyway. “We haven’t told anyone because I’m not sure how to label it. We spent some time together after I flew to San Diego to fix some issues with the clothing line. We both had a really good time. There’s a lot more to Braden than I knew. I enjoy his company. And he’s a good man.”

His eyes flash back and forth between me and the road. “Are you the reason he wants to move out here for college?”

“Yeah, but I can’t let him do that.”

“I knew it! I saw your reaction when he broke the news…you’re a terrible actress. But I don’t get it. If you guys are involved, why wouldn’t you want him out here?”

“Because he loves California. And besides, I have no idea what kind of future I can offer him, if any. He’s so damn young, Con. It’s not that much of a stretch to say I could have a child his age. After all, I was only fifteen when I had you. We’re at totally different stages in our lives. He’s just starting out and has his whole life ahead of him. Meanwhile I’ve done and seen things he probably doesn’t even know about yet. And I’ve raised two children…something he wouldn’t understand. I need time to explore my options. You know I love you and your brother more than life itself, but this is the first time as an adult I don’t have to put someone else first. I can finally decide what I want out of life for myself.”

Connor’s thick eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “What if it turns out what you want out of life is to be happy with someone like Braden? He’s done and seen things you wouldn’t know about either, Mom, like what it takes to be a Marine, and dealing with losing both parents before he had a chance to start a family of his own. You might see him as young, but I think you need to give him the benefit of the doubt. Give the guy a chance to show you what he has to offer. The way he was acting earlier when Allen threw his little fit? It seemed pretty obvious he’s really into you. And I caught you throwing him a few glances during dinner that looked pretty deep. If you’re serious about exploring the things you want, you owe it to yourself to see how far something with Braden could go.”

How the hell did my offspring become so wise on the ways of love and life?

With tears blurring my vision, I reach over to scratch my fingernails inside his thick dark hair. It’s something he hated as a kid, but he eventually understood it’s one of the ways to show my undying love. “Maybe you should consider the path of a life coach instead of this music producer thing you’re pursuing.”

“Come on, Mom. Life coaches don’t get to rub elbows with hot women at L.A. parties.”

“Depends on who you snag as clients.” Playfully tugging at a lock of his hair, I snort. “Is that why you’re choosing this path? To meet hot women?”

Lips bending with a deep smirk, he turns to me and winks. “Not really, but doesn’t hurt.”

God help me, he’s becoming more like his uncle every day.

* * *

Stomach in knots, I change outfits four times. I finally head for Leona’s in skinny jeans and a cropped floral top designed by Shar, paired with the faux fur coat Evelyn loaned me for the winter since it doesn’t fit around her stomach, and my favorite suede booties. At least in pants I won’t be as tempted this time to drag Braden around the corner for another fuck-fest, though my core still tingles with the idea.

On the short, brisk walk, I go over my conversation with Connor, asking myself if I’m truly ready to see where this thing with Braden will lead, and if I’m ready to make sacrifices of my own.

So many things could go wrong. Our siblings might freak with the news and forbid us to continue. He might resent me for his decision to move here once the consequences of his sacrifice begin to sink in. If I decide to give him a child one day, we risk the chance of my fertility not being as vibrant as it was in my teens. He could realize the age difference really is an issue and grow bored with my old lady ways. Allen may never accept us and put a real strain on our family. People may never take us seriously as a couple, putting an added obstacle in our relationship.

Worst of all, we both run the risk of coming out of this with a broken heart.

The bouncer at the entrance of Leona’s dips his chin in recognition and motions for me to skip past the long line without paying the cover charge. One of countless perks that come with having a famous rockstar brother. I elbow my way through Nolan’s boisterous bar, not surprised to see it completely packed with a hip crowd since its reputation has continued to grow over the years, partially due to Charlie’s occasional surprise performances.

The ambiance of the metal ceilings and rock memorabilia-clad walls never fails to give me that warm, homey feeling created from countless Friday nights spent on the worn wooden floors, dancing the night away with the Kendall gang. It’s almost as comforting as stepping into my childhood home—at least before cancer took my dad and my mom’s MS took a bad turn, putting her in a wheelchair for nearly a decade.

With thoughts of my mom I scold myself for not spending more time with her even though she insists we go on with our lives and let her more than capable live-in nurse tend to her daily care. She’ll be at the wedding, and we’re planning a family get-together before the boys return to their schools, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I haven’t gone to visit her since returning from Vegas. That’s because you’re afraid to hear her opinion on Braden, a nagging voice whispers.

On the same stage where my brother first laid eyes on Evelyn mid-performance, a reasonably talented up-and-coming metal band rocks out, their sound brash and unapologetic. The band’s dark-haired singer is a total knock out, commanding attention and respect the way she shouts about having her heart broken and soul stolen in the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. And from the way she can wear a pair of skin-tight leather pants with a plain black tank-top, ink covering both arms, strong cheekbones, thick lashes, haunting expression in her big brown eyes, she at least appears to have what it takes to “make it big” in the business. I make a mental note to have Charlie talk to Nolan about the band apparently called “Mad Haters” as written on the drummer’s set.

Without having to touch me, Braden’s sudden presence surrounds me like a warm hug long before he yells over the heavy guitar riff, “You gotta feel sorry for the poor dude who pissed her off.”

I turn to him, unable to stop the bright smile pulling at my cheeks. Even squeezed in among other patrons closer to his age, his beautiful eyes and bright, cocky smile stand out like a shining star—brilliant yet ridiculously far from my reach. Why couldn’t I have fallen for a nice guy closer to my age? Surely they can’t all be balding and starting to thicken around the middle?

“Hey, you,” I offer.

“Hey.” Eyes dark, he takes his time checking out what I’m wearing as a slow smile builds on his lips. “That shirt something you designed?” If it weren’t so blatantly obvious he’s turned on the way he continuously swallows and his tongue darts out, every word drips with unmistakable lust.

Don’t let his swagger get to you. Don’t let his swagger get to you.

Without thinking I move in closer to him, ready to rub my crotch up and down his leg like he’s a scratching post smothered in catnip. “Uh, Shar sketched it out, and I…uh…threw it together.”

For a second I think he’s going to kiss me, but then his hands slip into his pants pockets and he leans back. Still wearing the sweater from the party that stretches nicely across his toned pecks, the sight of his beautiful body isn’t doing anything to calm my throbbing libido.

Throat suddenly bone dry, I snag the drink from Braden’s hands and take a long, burning pull. Oh, vodka. You make me do bad, regrettable things.

Braden clears his throat. “I’m sorry things went down the way they did with your boys. As much as I want their approval, I wish you would’ve had time to tell them in your own way so they would’ve had time to adjust without me having to physically restrain Allen. But I meant every last word I said to you tonight. I love you, and I’m not giving up on us unless you tell me it’s over.”

Heart thumping with the grace of a galloping baby giraffe, I shift my weight uncomfortably, glancing around to see if anyone’s listening in. Though I hate that we’re having this conversation in the middle of a packed bar, at least it forces us to act like civilized adults instead of stripping each other naked.

“I don’t expect you to lay your feelings out like I did, or make any promises,” he continues. “I’m just asking that you agree to take one day at a time with me and see where this thing leads. We can go as slow as you want.”

Pulling in a deep, steadying breath, I touch his chest with a tentative hand. “I want this.”

His thick eyelashes flutter as a crooked smile pulls at his lips. “Really?”

“But I need a little more time to decide what I want to do about it. At least give me through the weekend. There are so many factors to consider, Brae. Our families, the fact that you want to have children when I thought I was done, where we’d live. But if I agree to this, it would be on one condition that I will not bend on, no matter how many times you bat those pretty eyes or flash one of your dimpled smiles.”

“You think my eyes are ‘pretty’?” he sniggers.

“Braden, if you don’t agree to this one thing, then I’m walking away and we’re done, so stop smirking like a cocky asshole.”

Hiding his mouth behind a hand, he chuckles. “Okay, fine. Name it, beautiful.”

“You can’t move here.”

And just like that, his hand drops to reveal a dark scowl set on his handsome face. “How the fuck can you give this a fair shot if we live on opposite sides of the country?”

“Before I came here, I was thinking about the time I spent with you in Cali, and how easy it was to operate my part of the fashion line from a remote location. Maybe after this weekend I could plan to spend more time out there while you start school.”

Braden stares at me, slack-jawed with eyes as wide as saucers.

Wait, what did I just say? Where are these words coming from? This is not at all what I had planned to say! I can’t just up and leave my friends and family, can I?

Despite my hesitation, the verbal diarrhea continues its disastrous flow. “It’s only an idea at this point—I’m not saying it’s a for-sure thing. But we’d have to keep our relationship on the down-low until we decide what our future holds. That means we’d have to behave while you’re here. And I’m not saying I’d stay at your place, at least not right away. I mean not unless you want me to. I could totally rent a place near the beach—”

His lips steal the rest of my ill-planned words from my lips. A second later I’m in his arms and he’s lifting me off the floor while his warm tongue invades my mouth. Even though I’m still wondering what the hell I just volunteered, I kiss him back eagerly, my heart in sync with the wicked beats of the base drum. Just like that, all my worries disappear inside his arms.

If this feeling, reminiscent of experiencing all the Coney Island rides in one day, is how it’s always going to be when I’m with Braden, I don’t ever foresee myself asking for a refund. I do, however, know I’m going to be double-checking every few minutes that my seatbelt is properly fastened.