Kona Hale is a stubborn, pigheaded bull sometimes. No more so than when his wife is sad and mopey. And if you’re the unfortunate jackass that Kona decided had put his wife in that particular mood, then you got threats. Even if you were his kid. Let’s be honest, they weren’t real threats, more along the “You are pissing me off” variety but I caught the meaning. He wouldn’t lay a finger on me, I knew that. Since he’d returned to our lives I could count on one hand the times my father has yelled at me. He was getting damn good at the fatherly anger, though, and today was Yell-Number-Three.

“Koa has not stopped crying since Monday. Monday, Ransom and your mom is completely worn out. You go make this right and then bring Aly to me. I want a word with her.”

“Why is that my job?” I’d regretted the question before it left my mouth, but still asked it anyway.

“Because she’s your friend and because if Keira doesn’t smile soon I’m gonna be without a job for making a scene at Leann’s studio.”

“Dad…”

“No. Don’t even try it,” he’d said, his voice so loud over the phone that three girls passing me in Kenner Hall laughed at the sound. “This shit would not have happened if you…”

“You’re putting this on me?” I’d stopped in the middle of the lobby then, not caring who watched me or how stupid I looked screaming into my phone. “You don’t even know what went down.”

“Because you don’t tell us shit anymore!”

Dad’s breath was heavy, it matched mine but neither of us spoke for a few seconds. Instead, I looked through the glass doors, scuffing my shoes against the molding. My father wasn’t wrong. I kept myself to myself because I didn’t want to add to the worry my parents already had, all because their son had screwed up again. My silence had hurt them, I’d known that but I’d never understood how deeply that hurt ran or how frustrating I’d become.

“Dad…”

“Look, keki kane, I’m sorry.” I believed he meant that apology. “I shouldn’t scream at you, but you’ve got to understand, we can’t get through to her. None of us. Leann is trying but Aly’s still wary. Please, for the sake of my sanity, go see her. Work this shit out.”

Kona Hale had tackled the best quarterbacks in the league. He was a massive mound of muscle and intimidation. But put a weepy Keira in front of him and throw in his anxious toddler and you’ve got the makings of the one thing that could topple him: an unhappy family.

I was my father’s son and though it took me stuffing down my pride and that promise I’d made to myself to forget about Aly as though she didn’t matter at all to me, an hour later, I found myself standing outside of Leann’s studio, trying to ignore the voice screaming in my head.

She doesn’t matter. Don’t you dare apologize. Don’t be weak.

That voice was full of disgust because I could not hate myself for wanting Aly, for wanting to feel anything other than guilt. That voice was loud, so livid that I didn’t bother trying to block it out. I knew that every insult, every complaint she leveled, I deserved. I was everything she’d accused me of being. Emily’s father had reminded me with those roses, as though I could ever forget what I had done. And walking away from Aly, disregarding the attempt she made at healing me only proved that I was what Emily’s father thought I was. If I was that low, disgusting cretin, then I may as well live the part.

But for my family, I’d do anything. Even try to smooth over the shit I hadn’t created. Not directly. The voice continued, niggling hard, like some sort of wicked conscience that I’d grown used to hearing. There was so much doubt, so much hatred in that tone that I knew I’d created it myself. Emily would have never spoken that way to me. She’d have never fed my doubt.

The open door beyond the lobby flooded the entire building with music. Leann wasn’t here, I’d made sure of that and had caught the sing-song tease in her voice when I asked where I could find Aly on her own.

“Studio. She’s working on her routine.” I hadn’t trusted that tone or the way my cousin laughed, but as I approached the opened door, I understood what had her so amused.

Motherfucker.

Aly was dressed—if that’s what you want to call it—in a crop-top shirt pulled in a knot at her back and a pair of tight dance shorts that barely curved around her round ass. This wasn’t surprising or anything I hadn’t seen before. Most of the instructors wore very little when they rehearsed, keeping their limbs free from anything that would distracted the hard work of their routines. But the muscle in Aly’s legs flexed and her calves were rounded tight as she moved around the room in high heels, as though she’d been at it for a long while.

This would be easier if I wasn’t so attracted to her. Or if, you know, whoever that fucker was dancing with her didn’t have his hands all over her ass.

“Saida!” he said, laughing as they moved, working Aly across the floor with barely a breath’s space between them. “Good, beautiful.”

He was way better at the Kizomba than I was, moved with a swagger I’d never have. I’d give him props for that. Then he lifted her up, ignored Aly when she gasped. “Damn, I don’t remember your ass being this round.”

Right. Fuck that guy. He doesn’t deserve my props.

“Tommy, grow up,” she said, pulling his hand off her ass. “Keep to the rhythm.”

“You are no fun.”

Tommy. That asshole I’d heard her Skyping with. I still didn’t know who he was to her and right then, didn’t much care.

Aly stopped dancing and I counted it as some small victory that she wasn’t laughing with him, that she hadn’t cracked a smile once since I’d been watching them dance. “We have less than a month. We have to get this right and you are still not close enough.”

My fists ached from how tightly I curled them when this Tommy prick grabbed Aly’s waist and pushed himself flush against her. “Well, let’s go up to your apartment, see how close we can get.”

“Would you stop…” whatever Aly was going to say died on her tongue when she looked around Tommy’s shoulder and right at me. There was surprise on her features, her eyebrows arched, her lids wide, and sweat dotted over her top lip and on her forehead.

Tommy followed her gaze, looked over his shoulder at me and that jackass’s smile only got wider. “For fuck’s sake,” he said, stepping back from Aly.

“Ransom.” She nodded once, a small grin moving her lips, then, as though she remembered how I’d treated her, what an asshole I’d been to her that night at Summerland’s, that grin vanished quick. “What are you doing here?”

“Good question,” Tommy said, resting a hand on Aly’s hip. “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

I wanted to break each of his fingers as they rubbed against her.

What the hell is wrong with me? I thought, coming to myself as I stepped further into the studio. “We need to have a conversation.”

“Well, you can’t right now.” Tommy’s voice went right over my head and I took another step in, pushing my hands into my pockets as I looked her.

She was still angry, I could see that by that hard frown and how tightly she held herself. I couldn’t blame her and if I wasn’t still pissed at her, maybe I would have smiled, tried to get her to do the same. But I was still pissed, still more than a little bothered with how strongly I’d reacted to the truth and how much I’d missed her.

You’re weak, the voice said when I thought, just for a second, that I should apologize first. You don’t need her. Look at how he’s touching her. They’re fucking. It’s obvious.

“It’ll be a long while,” Tommy continued, blocking Aly from my view as he stood in front of me.

The breath I released came out on a slow exhale, I had to rein in my anger, that irritation at this asshole that bubbled when he crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a look that was both challenging and amused. Slipping my eyes to the right, I squinted at him, regarding those cut arms that were smaller than mine and the stupid smug grin on his face.

“You wanna back up, brah?”

I thought he might start in with the smack talk, maybe come closer just to piss me off, but then the asshole glanced back at Aly and clapped his hands together like my question had been the funniest thing he’d heard all week. “Is he for real, Aly?” Another glance at me, at my stance and how it hadn’t shifted an inch and he laughed. “Oh shit, he is. Wow.”

Two slow steps had me inching closer and finally that asshole stopped smiling. “Yeah. He is for real,” I said. Another step. “Really real.”

“Look, man, Aly…”

“Can speak for herself.” She stepped in front of him, keeping her gaze from me.

Her eyes snapped as she spoke. “We’re done for the night, Tommy. We can pick it back up next week.”

“Aly, there is no way I’m leaving you with this asshole.”

She nodded toward the door. “Night, Tommy.”

His tone shifted smoothly to “easily bored” and didn’t bother to argue, picking up his backpack and leaving the studio, shaking his head as he left. But I didn’t care. He could laugh all he wanted. The voice kept firing off suggestions, more absolutes I didn’t bother to acknowledge. But I shook that off, too. Instead I watched Aly as she moved around the studio, turning off the stereo, and picking up her bag.

She wouldn’t look at me and I didn’t understand why that unsettled me so damn much. Shouldn’t I be the one ignoring her? Wasn’t I the one that was wronged?

“Say what you have to say and leave, Ransom. I’m tired.”

She had a lot of nerve, I’d give her that much, but the return of that cold, distant attitude pushed back any thoughts I had of missing her. I glared at her when she stopped flitting around the room like a bee looking for an open window. She stared ahead, messing with her phone in her hands, likely forgetting that I could see her in the mirror, that I knew she wasn’t looking down at the screen.

“You left my family.” It was why I’d gone there. To find out why she would cut herself off from them. Me, I got. But not them, not Koa.

“I got a better offer,” she tried, sounding weak.

“Why are you lying?”

Aly jerked her attention up, glaring at me in the mirror. “I’m not…”

“Leann watches you. We know you’re not working anywhere else.”

“Fine,” she said, shrugging like nothing mattered to her but getting as far from me as she could. “I couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to.”

I could have let her go, let her continue denying why she’d taken her anger with me out on my family. But what kind of son, brother would that make me? Aly passed right by me, came too close and I didn’t hesitate. She tried jerking out of my reach, but I didn’t loosen my grip and pulled her close.

“Pa manyen mwen! Don’t touch me,” she said, voice piercing, distant and I caught the threat right in her eyes.

I couldn’t keep my heartbeat even, hated that my hands were trembling. “Why? Just tell me.”

“What do you want me to say, Ransom?” She jerked free, pushing me back when I stepped toward her. “It would have been too awkward with you hating me. You really want me of all people around your family?”

“Hate? Aly, I don’t hate you.”

“Now who’s lying?”

Maybe I’d done this with that look I’d given her at Summerland’s. Maybe my anger, my surprise had sent a message I’d never intended. Still, I didn’t get why Aly was so cool now, why her reaction to me was so harsh. But, God, I’d never hated her. “I was mad. I was…I thought we were friends and you…”

“Friends?” she said, releasing a laugh. “When were we ever friends?”

“Aly…”

“No, I want to know. When exactly have we been friends? When you kissed me right here in this room?” She lifted her hands up and waved them, making me grind my teeth together. “Or was it when I went to you that day on campus telling you that all I wanted was your friendship? Remember that?” Aly came so close to me then, tilting her head as though she needed to catch my gaze. “How’d that friendly encounter end, Ransom? Was it just you being my friend when you kissed me again? Or when…”

“Stop it, okay? Just…fuck!” I didn’t need to hear it, didn’t want her repeating history I knew all too well.

Aly woke something in me I hadn’t let fly since that day on the lake. Even before I knew it was her, when she was just the faceless dancer moving her glorious hips against my body, or when she sang a song about freedom and loss like she knew what each word meant—she had released that buried hope inside my chest, the one that promised I would survive. I couldn’t lose that, didn’t want to be free of even the smallest chance that Aly promised.

Like always when I was around her, my body acted, and my steps felt heavy as I stalked toward her, knocking that angry frown from her face with my arms caging her against the mirror.

“Tell me,” I said, keeping my voice even. But Aly’s eyes had gotten glassy and her chest moved up and down, breath panting like she was scared, like she was turned on. “Why did you leave?” I asked.

I wouldn’t let her look away from me. Not until she answered. Why did you leave? But what I was really asking was why did you lie?

Aly’s throat worked slowly, and her breathing became less frantic before she flicked her gaze up and watched me with her chin lifted, defying me with a look to argue. “I wanted to help you.”

My jaw ached from how tightly I tensed the muscles there. “I don’t need your help.”

“Bullshit, Ransom. You’re lost. You’ve been lost a long time. I wanted to help you find yourself just for one night.”

She didn’t move from the wall when I backed away from her. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“It is,” she said, catching me in my lie, taking two steps to stand directly in front of me. “You wanted to know why I didn’t tell you it was me dancing for you at Summerland’s? Because you wanted to know if there was anything there with that dancer; not me—her.” I could only stare back at her when she came closer, unable to do much more than breathe. “You wanted to know if you could feel that way again, the way you had the first night. Before there was even a possibility of us.”

My hands came down on her arms, holding them firm before I could think much about moving them. The past two months, Aly had been an anchor, the one person that could calm me. Right then I wasn’t calm, I was confused and frustrated and utterly incapable of doing anything but watch her. “I don’t care that you danced for me. I don’t care if you needed the money…”

“It wasn’t the money, Ransom. Not the second time and I didn’t do it for anyone else. Just you.”

“Why?” I held my breath, not understanding why I was so desperate for her answer.

“Because I wanted you to smile again.” She reached for me and I knew, before I felt her fingers on my skin, that I would let her touch me. “I wanted you to smile and mean it.” But Aly didn’t touch me, hesitated too long before she dropped her hand to her side and I couldn’t push back the voice that time, the one that taunted and laughed. The one that told me what an idiot I’d been.

“Aly…I…” There was a hint of mocha on her breath, something warm and spicy. That smell had my stomach tightening, had me fighting the voice in my head that told me she wasn’t worth the effort. I knew better than that, but was too much of a punk just then to think about what I was feeling. Out of habit, I reached for my chest, needing that slight comfort of the tattoo, but didn’t touch it. “I can’t smile again no matter what you do. It’s just not going to happen for me, but I can make sure my family is taken care of.” I moved my gaze from the floor back to her eyes, scared when the glassy glean flooded. “Why can’t you help them? Would it really be so bad?”

“I won’t be around you,” she admitted, holding herself tight, as though she needed to protect herself from me.

“Aly, please…”

“I can’t be around you. It…it hurts too much,” she clarified and suddenly there were tears on her face.

There was something else —that hurt expression maybe, or the way her chin moved as she tried to hold herself back from sobbing. I didn’t understand what all that meant at first. She couldn’t be this upset about our argument or be this damn devastated about losing whatever friendship we had. And then, just like that, the flood of awareness hit me straight in the chest and I understood where her attempts to help me and the source of her tears came from. What she felt was written in the way her eyes had lightened, how the pain in them transformed the bright color to something washed and transparent.

It felt exactly like believing something your entire life and then discovering that none of that belief held any truth. Shock, doubt and the sickening sensation of a truth you never expected.

“What… I don’t understand. You’ve only been around me for two months. You can’t be…”

The sound of her harsh, bitter laughter felt like an insult. “Two months? My God, Ransom, open your damn eyes.” Aly rubbed her neck, stepping away from me as though she needed the space. “Try over a year,” she said when I shook my head. “You have no fucking clue how good you have it. You have a family who loves you, who is so damn proud of you and you have…you had me and you didn’t even know it.” That quiver in her chin didn’t stop and as I watched her, that raging voice in my head went quiet. All I heard was her, Aly, as she continued speaking.

“I drove myself crazy with just the damn thought of you. Watching you week after week, fall further and further away from everyone who loved you. And you didn’t know, couldn’t see. You still don’t know how beautiful you are, and how lost.” She swiped at her wet face like her tears were an irritation. “I can’t watch that anymore. I won’t. I tried to help and it blew up in my face. I tried to heal you as much as you would let me but you only wanted the dancer. Not me. Her. And still, I tried…even if it wasn’t me, I tried.”

“Aly…” She stopped me with a shake of her head. She moved too quickly, her reaction to my upheld hands, defensive, but still I tried. “I didn’t know…”

“But that doesn’t matter, don’t you see? It doesn’t matter whether you knew or not, because you’re still stuck in the past. It’s where you want to be.” Aly’s hands shook violently but her tears had dried on her face, letting me know she was either absolutely terrified or in such a rage that she didn’t care about hurting me. “It’s safe for you there. All that damn guilt, it keeps you from facing everything around you. You don’t want to live anymore, Ransom, because life is too damn hard. So you stay in the past when things were easy, where you didn’t have to move past anything, where you could just wallow in your own world. It’s where you are now and I will not stay there with you.” There was an echo on the floor when she walked away, her anger, her frustration thicker than the heat coming from the vent. And I let her walk away from me, knowing that she was right. Why fight for someone who’d given up on you?

“As much as I want to save you like you did…like you’ve done for me, I can’t. I can’t be with you in this limbo of grief and I cannot compete with the specter of Emily. So I’m not even going to try.”

I couldn’t expect her to, right? How could I expect anyone to fight for me, to challenge me to live when I’d given all that up? Over a year, she’d said. She’d watched me from the beginning then. She’d waited all that time for me to leave behind the heartache I’d created.

And now, son of a bitch, she wouldn’t wait anymore.

But then something else hit me. What had she said? As much as I’d saved her? When did I ever…. Oh God. There was a memory, of something that happened before the accident, before I lost Emily… Dammit, it was so hard to recall anything that happened before the accident…. But there was something…

Then it suddenly flooded into my head—a memory of Aly and.... Yes. That asshole in the parking lot, her in the loft. She was the girl who needed a bed. I should have known that. I should have remembered. Why hadn’t I remembered?

I jerked and glanced over my shoulder when I heard the back door slam shut. She’d left me alone, wallowing once again. I’d come there for answers and had gotten what I wanted. But I damn well didn’t like it. I’d looked for an apology and got the bird and, much as I hated to admit it, it was a gesture I deserved.

Son of a bitch, she’d given up on me and I let her. I fucking let her.

Overhead I heard her in her apartment, slamming doors, her heels snapping against the hardwood and then, the rumbled of the pipes as she turned the water on.

Leave her alone. She doesn’t want you. No one will want you again.

I closed my eyes, breathing through my nose to fill my lungs to capacity. She may have walked away, she may have told herself that she wouldn’t try anymore, but I knew she hadn’t given up a damn thing. Not this girl. Those tears told a story. They were real. They were honest, and for the first time in over a year, I was working on a plan.

I had a fight I wanted to win.

She doesn’t want…

“Yeah. But I do.”