A knock on the door had Gray lifting his head. Jazz stood in the doorway, her normally bright colors and funky jeans exchanged for black shapeless pants and a black turtleneck. Ever since that day three weeks ago when Brent had attacked her, she’d worn little else. Her crazy braids and ponytails had been exchanged for a style that hid her face.

She was in self-protection mode and he couldn’t stand the part he’d played in pushing his brother to that point. He’d known he was prodding a bear with his taunts, but he’d just never guessed Brent was capable of going that far.

He’d regret his mistake for the rest of his life.

“Hey there.” She gave him a weak smile. “You ready to head back?”

“No.” He pulled the zipper closed on his duffel. “I don’t want to go.”

“You’ve already been here way past your spring break.” She shook her head and came into his bedroom, pulling the door shut behind her. “What are you going to do? Drop out of school so you can keep an eye on me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. “But not to keep an eye on you, just to be together. I have a good amount of money set aside from birthdays and Christmas, and that’s enough to get us started. We can move to San Francisco. We’ll both get jobs—”

“You already have a life.” She sat on the edge of his bed, a careful distance away from him. Since that day with Brent, she hadn’t so much as let Gray hug her. “I don’t want you to put that aside for me. We can’t just run off together.”

“Why not?”

She laughed, the sound as brittle as dry leaves. He’d begun to worry that he’d never truly hear her laugh again. “Because I got a better offer.”

“What offer?” he asked, pushing his bag to the floor so he could sit beside her.

“My great-aunt Casey asked me to come live with her. She’s older and needs help getting around. But it’ll get me out of the system.”

“You never mentioned an aunt before.” He couldn’t keep the suspicion out of his voice, especially when she ducked her head. “Why does she want you to live with her now?”

“She knows I need a place. And like I said, she’s older and has a few health problems. My being there will help.”

“You don’t have to leave here. My parents won’t make you go—”

Again she laughed, her gaze faraway. “They want me out. Brent wants me out. And to be honest, I need to go. This isn’t—it isn’t where I want to be anymore.”

“So be with me.” He grabbed her hand and held it to his cheek. She stiffened, and he knew he should let her go. But God, he couldn’t. It felt like she was slipping away from him, and he’d be damned if he gave up without a fight. “You remember how it was between us in San Francisco. We had so much fun. Riding bikes, playing guitar, coming up with really bad drink concoctions from the hotel mini bar.”

The last he added to make her smile, but she didn’t respond. She’d retreated inside herself to a place he couldn’t reach.

“We’re not a couple.” She met his eyes then, her chin firm even as her lips trembled. “We’re just friends.”

“Just my ass. I’ve never had a friend like you. No one matters to me as much as you.”

“And that’s not right.” She tugged her hand back and stood. “You have a million friends at school and a full, busy life. God, you got all As this year so far. You’re being offered internships and opportunities right and left. Why would you consider giving any of that up for me? Not to mention leaving your family—”

“You’re my family,” he interrupted. “I love you.”

She shook her head. “I know we played brother and sister for a short while, but that doesn’t make it real.”

He rose and tugged on her hand, pulling her against him. Before she could evade the move, he cupped her cheek and lowered his head. “You’re not my sister,” he murmured.

Her pupils widened, the darkness swallowing the blue until only a hint remained. Her breathing sped up, her breasts rising and falling against his chest. He tried like hell not to be affected, not to even notice the points of her nipples pressing into his flesh through his shirt, but the reaction below his waist was instantaneous. From the sound of distress she made, she felt it.

She jerked back and turned away, covering her face with her hands.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I’m sorry,” he gritted out. “I didn’t mean to push you.”

“No. You didn’t. You wouldn’t. It’s just…it’s never going to happen, Gray.” She turned around and relief surged through him that she wasn’t crying. Until he realized her face held no emotion at all. “You’re always going to be part of some of the best memories of my life. I’ll never forget you.”

“Forget me?” He clenched his fist. “So, what, you’re just going to move on like we never knew each other?”

“Of course not,” she said, letting out a quick laugh. “I won’t be far away. I’m just going to my aunt’s.”

“Where does she live?”

“In Carson. I’ll be fine.”

Something felt wrong. “Give me her address and phone number.”

“I already wrote it down for you.” She dug out a piece of paper from her pocket and placed it in his hand. “Go on. Your mom’s waiting to say goodbye, and I’m on my way out too.”

“You’re leaving now? Today?”

She gave him a brief smile. “I don’t want to be here without you, but that doesn’t mean either one of us should stay.”

He had to try one more time. He gripped her arms and poured every ounce of love he had for her into his expression, hoping to God she could feel how much he wanted to be with her. That nothing else mattered half as much. “You want freedom, baby, I can give you that. I’ll give you everything.”

“I know. It’s just…the time’s not right, okay? Maybe in a few years—”

“A few years?” The question burst out of him. “I don’t want to wait any longer. We have no reason to.” He rubbed his thumb along the inside of her arm and she trembled, closing her eyes. “We can have San Francisco. Just you and me.”

“Maybe someday. Take care, okay?” She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, her lips sliding to the left for a fraction of an instant, ghosting over the corner of his mouth. “I love you,” she said, easing back.

He held on for as long as he could, then dropped his arms.

During the drive back to school, he called the number she’d given him on a hunch. The call wouldn’t go through. The line had been disconnected.