The was a notion in life, even in the dark depths of Jamie’s twisted childhood, that there was a manifest destiny in California, but for Jamie, it was the end of a dream he’d never wanted—a world of perpetual summer that he’d fallen into when the alternative had been certain death. There’s nothing here for me. At least, there wasn’t anymore.

“Are you sure?” Marvin asked for the third time since Jamie had told him of his plans to return to England. “Where will you go?”

“Anywhere. There’s plenty of places I haven’t been.”

“You won’t go back to Norwich? Or London? I know things were shitty before, but they’re both big cities.”

Glad that Marvin was currently distracted by the financial reports he’d been buried in all week, Jamie shuddered. There were numerous reasons not to return to London or Norwich, but fear was the loudest—fear of the past, of old enemies, and of himself. Mostly himself. I can’t go back. “I want to go somewhere new. Start again.”

“I don’t see it.” Marvin spun around in his ergonomic office chair. “You get kinda cranky when you’re on your own too long.”

“You never leave me on my own.”

Marvin grinned without an ounce of denial, but it was fleeting, and his expression sobered a moment later. “I’m serious, dude. You’ve done so well this past year, but you’re not done yet. Are you sure you’re ready to face something so drastic? Why not go to Liam and Zac? They can help you settle.”

Jamie shook his head. Liam Mallaney owned Sea Rave, the company that Jamie and Marvin both worked for, and he was the best boss in the world, but he’d also laid claim to the heart of the only man Jamie had ever loved. Asking him for another handout was one humiliation too many.

Besides, Zac was nauseatingly happy now—an emotion that Jamie was fleeing California to escape. The vibrant West Coast buzz had kept him alive when he’d had little desire to do it himself, but he’d woken up this morning with an absolute certainty that he’d had enough. I want to go home . . . Wherever that was.

“You should at least tell him.”

Jamie scowled at Marvin. The bloke was awesome, but he’d been in Cali for too long, and his moral compass grated on Jamie’s cynical English soul. “I can’t take a piss in this place without Liam hearing about it, so I reckon Zac’ll know where I’m headed before I do.”

“That’s not fair.” It was Marvin’s turn to frown. “I only tell Liam about work stuff, and your general state of being alive. And even if I wanted to tell him anything else—which I don’t—what would I say? Seriously, mate—you barely leave the apartment. Maybe you’re bored, and you don’t have to leg it all the way back to England to fix that.”

In theory, Marvin could be right. By choice, running the Sea Rave staff canteen and keeping up with his rehab program did take up most of his time, but the disquiet in his gut—brewing stronger with every clear-skied day that passed—wasn’t about that. “I’m not bored, Marvin. I’m sunburned, and hot, and I’m tired of having sushi for breakfast. I’m tired of going for runs on the beach, and I’m tired of being nice to every idiot that crosses my path because no one over here understands my warped sense of humour . . .”

Marvin’s grin widened.

“Don’t bloody laugh at me,” Jamie snapped.

“I’m not.”

“Liar.”

Marvin spread his hands. “I’m not, mate. I promise. It’s just that you’re starting to sound like every other Brit who passes through here, and I didn’t think I’d see the day when you ever sounded like anyone else.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Marvin shrugged. “That you’re one of a kind, kid. And I’m really gonna miss you.”

Jamie closed his eyes and turned away. Marvin had never voiced his obvious fondness for Jamie before, but there had been many days when the sensation that he desired something other than fraternal friendship had been strong enough to confine Jamie to the quiet sanctuary of his ocean-view bedroom. Counting the sea pebbles he’d collected calmed his racing mind—sometimes—but he couldn’t do that forever.

* * *

A week later, Marvin drove Jamie to LAX. He’d apparently given up trying to persuade Jamie to stay and had instead turned into his mother. “You booked your taxi at Heathrow, didn’t you?”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “No. You did. Twice. Just in case one of them doesn’t show up.”

Marvin tapped his elegant fingers on the steering wheel, partly in rhythm with the ska music he had blaring from the speakers of his Jeep, and partly with a clear frustration that he’d run out of time to explain. “I booked one for Jamie, and one for your surname, Yorke. Jump in the first one you see and blow out of London, yeah? It’ll only take a couple hours to get to Derby.”

The city of dreams. Jamie almost laughed, but the daunting prospect of passing through London sucked away any humour he might’ve had. The hour he’d have to spend in baggage claim was enough to make him feel sick.

Marvin’s hand on his shoulder startled him. “It’s going to be fine, J. Just get in the cab and head north. You’ve got a place to kip, and a few quid in the bank. All you’ve got to do is stay clean and find a job. And if you fuck it up, or can’t find work, Liam’s got your back.”

“I don’t want him to have my back. He’s done enough for me already.”

“So? You know as well as I do that it won’t stop him doing a little bit more. It’s a hand up, not a handout, mate.”

Jamie grumbled under his breath and watched the desert as it whizzed by, but he couldn’t deny that Liam’s assistance had helped his great California escape come by even quicker than he’d hoped. After a long night of staring at a map, Jamie had stuck a pin in the East Midlands and randomly chosen a small town close to the Derbyshire Peak District. The very next day, an email with a Rightmove link to a list of flats in Matlock Bath had appeared in his inbox: Choose one. I’ll sort it. Come and see us when you’re ready. Jamie had ignored the last part with a painful twinge of guilt. One day Liam would realise that it was the one offer Jamie would always refuse.

“Are you going to get a car?” Marvin dragged Jamie back from the ledge. “You packed your license, right?”

Jamie patted the pocket with his wallet in. “It’s only valid for twelve months, though. I’ll have to take a UK test after that.”

“So do it.”

“I might not need to if I find a job in the town.”

“Jamie—”

“What?”

Marvin tapped his fingers faster. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t be afraid to explore the world around you because of your addiction. You’ll find gear anywhere if you want it enough. Living like a hermit in the arse-end of nowhere isn’t going to change that.”

“I’m not going to the arse-end of nowhere. I’m going to Matlock Bath. It’s got three fish and chip shops on one street, so it’s gotta be buzzing.” Jamie forced a grin to appease the concern that was fast marring Marvin’s handsome face. “I’ll be fine, honest. I just need a change—some wind and rain, a few grey, miserable days to remind me who I really am, you know? I can’t find that here.”

Marvin sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t stick around forever. I guess I hoped that we’d have you a little while longer.”

We. Marvin spoke like the true Sea Rave man he was, but Jamie didn’t miss the flicker in his dark gaze, and Jamie turned away from it for the last time. He’d miss Marvin like the brother he’d never had, but he had to go.

The airport loomed into view twenty minutes later. Marvin parked up and retrieved Jamie’s carry on and small case from the boot of the Jeep. “You could’ve taken the guitar. I can always get another one.”

Jamie shook his head. “Cory’s guitar belongs with you.”

“Does it? I never play the thing.”

“Neither did I. Just liked counting the strings. Besides, I can’t take your dead brother’s guitar. It ain’t right.”

“What if I wanted you to have it?”

“It would still be wrong.” Jamie shouldered his bag and thrust his hands into his pockets under the pretence of checking for his passport and his double set of plane tickets—one for the connecting flight to Chicago, and the other for the final leg across the Atlantic. He knew Marvin was going to hug him—hold him tight against his broad bulk and say with his embrace what Jamie had never let him say out loud, but Jamie wouldn’t hug him back. Couldn’t, because that would make leaving him real. Would make everything real.

And Jamie was forever learning to live with reality.