“Earth to Nick.”

“Huh?” I turned toward my brother Cormac as we climbed the hill toward Shady Oaks. “What did you say?”

Lifting his shades, Mac stared at me. “Have you heard anything I said?”

“Nope.” I didn’t want to be involved in the job Keagan and Shane were planning.

“Come on,” Mac said. “You know you’ll eventually cave.”

I ran up the last half of the hill, regretting the last few slices of spicy pizza I’d just devoured.

“What’s going on with you?” Mac asked when he caught up. “Problems in sex-slave paradise?”

I shoved him.

He stumbled off the edge of the sidewalk, laughing. “Seriously, man. What’s wrong?”

We reached the Shady Oaks gate, and I dug out my keys to open it.

It had been ten days, seven hours and—I checked my phone—twenty-four minutes since I’d told Jade the truth and she’d thrown me out. The same amount of time since she’d talked to me.

We worked at the same place, so we’d seen each other every day except Mondays when the club was closed, but Jade hadn’t said a word to me. She wouldn’t even look at me, and I’d never felt so invisible. I’d also lost my easy lift to the club, letting Jade go with Melodie.

“She’s not talking to me,” I said.

Mac walked through the gate first. “Talking isn’t typically what you want from a sex slave.”

“Fuck you, Mac.” I stomped past him and into the courtyard. “Fuck! You!”

He caught up with me just before we passed the pool. “Hey. You actually like this girl, don’t you?”

I headed for the stairs, wishing Mac would just leave me the hell alone.

“Come on,” he called after me. “Hey, man. Wait. Sit. I’ll grab us some beers.”

I stopped. Of all my brothers, Mac was the one who might actually be able to give me some solid advice. Keagan had women lining up to be with him; I’m sure he never had problems like this. Dillon knew more about gadgets than girls, and Shane… Well, these days talking to my next-oldest brother was a non-starter.

But Mac—Mac knew people, what made them tick.

Already dragging two chairs over to the side of the pool, he looked toward me and grinned. “I’ll grab those beers.”

Instead of heading to the two-bedroom he shared with Dillon, he made a beeline for Keagan’s.

I glanced up to the third-floor balcony, thinking I’d caught a glimpse of Jade, but she wasn’t there. Wishful thinking.

I leaned on one of the chairs. This pool was such a fucking joke. When I’d moved in, there were signs up saying the pool was undergoing maintenance and would reopen soon, but over the past four and a half years it had gotten worse, not better. The signs had eventually faded, then fallen down. But given how cheap the rent was, no one complained, and the hilarious thing was: the Oaks residents—including the Downeys—often hung out around the pool as if it were a feature instead of a pond scum factory.

I walked to the edge. The shade of green was actually pretty when the sun hit it this time of day.

I saw the flowers. I tipped back my head, looking up at the sky.

“What?” Coming up beside me, Mac handed me a beer. He’d grabbed a six-pack from Keagan’s fridge and set the rest of them under one of the chairs.

“She’s not down there, is she?” he asked with mock worry. “Need me to do mouth-to-mouth?” He glanced into the pool. “Hey. Someone tossed out a bunch of flowers.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” I dropped hard onto a chair, its legs scraping on the concrete as they took the load. I drank about half the beer in one go.

Mac pulled his chair closer to mine. “They were your flowers? For her?”

I chugged down the rest of the beer, then settled the bottle with a clank on the deck.

Mac handed me a second. “Shit. That’s cold, man. What the fuck did you do? I guess even sex slaves have limits.”

I glared at him.

He held up his hands. “No more jokes, I promise. Tell me.”

“That’s just it. I told her. I told her the truth.”

“That you’re gay?”

I kicked him.

“Sorry. Jokes over. Promise. What did you tell her?”

“The fucking truth. That I wasn’t that Nick. That she didn’t owe me anything.”

“Oh, man. That was dumb.”

“Was it?” I rubbed my head. “I mean, how could I keep lying to her, especially once we—”

Mac tipped his beer toward me and winked. “I’m at least glad to hear you fucked her.”

I stretched out my legs, staring across the pool at the scraggly, neglected palm tree. A dead frond fell, no breeze to carry it anywhere but straight to the ground.

“Come on, little brother,” Mac said. “Cheer up. So she didn’t like your shitty flowers. No big shocker there.”

“Shitty?”

“Dude, they’re carnations. Tacky.”

“You think she tossed them out because they were the wrong kind?” So much for Mac being helpful. “Jade’s not like that.”

“Of course she’s not.” Mac leaned over and clapped me on the thigh. “Of course not, buddy. What else have you tried?”

“Everything I could think of. Chocolates. A card. I’ve been holding doors open. Complimenting her. I’m running out of ideas.”

“She won’t even talk to you?”

“She won’t even look at me.”

“That’s cold, man. You sure she’s worth the trouble?”

Jade was so worth the trouble. “She hates liars. Pretty sure someone did a number on her.”

“Okay. So you like this girl. Sounds like you’ve got to do something big. Something to make things even. No more of this cliché apology shit.”

I nodded. If it were that easy, I’d have already done it.

“Remind me.” Mac tipped his bottle toward me. “Why did she think she owed you in the first place?”

“Something about her dad doing someone else’s time.”

“Could you find out whose time he’s doing? Make that right?”

I drew a long breath. It was actually a solid idea, but— “You know, she doesn’t seem that pissed off about her dad doing time.” From the way Jade talked, it wasn’t his first run in jail, and with him inside, she had one less person to take care of. “Plus, his deal includes protection. I get the sense she’s relieved he’s inside. Safe. Out of trouble.”

“Well, let’s keep thinking then.”

“Are you shitheads drinking without me?”

I looked over my shoulder to see Shane sauntering toward us, a huge grin on his face. A smile landed on my face too, and I was instantly drawn back to when we were boys. When we were close.

“Pull up a chair,” Mac said. “But get your own beer. These are ours.”

I didn’t want to point out that they were actually Keagan’s.

Shane set a chair next to mine and stretched out his skinny legs, super tanned, as if baking them was his full-time job.

“So, Nick.” Shane grabbed my beer off the concrete and took a swig. “It’s a great idea, right?”

“What?” Had he come up with a plan to help me apologize? I shook my head, realizing how far up my own ass I was.

“The job down at the docks.” Shane handed me back my beer. “Mac told you the details, right? I need all five of us, but especially you, Nicky. As long as we’ve got some muscle, the assholes will roll right over.”

“What assholes?” Mac frowned.

“My guy.” Shane’s leg started bouncing. “He’s not the only one interested in this container. We’ve got competition.”

Mac dragged his chair around and put his feet up on the rusted pool ladder handles. “You’re not making sense, Shane. I’m not getting more involved until you tell us everything.”

“Okay. Okay.” Shane leaned forward in his chair. “Here’s the deal. My guy is part of a crew who’ve got plans to grab the container. His guys are gonna do all the hard work. Get the goods onto a truck, pay off the guards, and that’s where we step in. Once the container’s loaded and ready to go, we take it. Candy from a baby.”

Mac set down his beer. “We steal the container from the guys who are stealing it?”

“Yup.”

“If your guy’s double-crossing his crew, why involve you?”

“That’s the great part.” Shane’s leg started bouncing. “He only asked if I knew a muscle guy to join their crew. He has no fucking idea we’re going to steal the container from under them.”

“That’s why you need Nick…” Mac whistled through his teeth. “Nick plays the muscle guy for the other crew. Then we swoop in.”

Shane’s entire upper body nodded. “Exactly! You got it! I knew you’d get it, Mac. The container’s full of pricey shit—high-end electronics and other stuff that’s easy to unload. Totally untraceable. We’ll make fortune. Mac, you need to convince Keagan. You know how he hates any plan that wasn’t his idea.”

I recognized the expression on Mac’s face. I could practically see his wheels turning. Fuck. He was actually considering this.

Keagan was the one who planned our jobs for a reason. He was good at it. Smart. Thought of all the angles. Shane was the polar opposite. If my brothers took on a Shane-planned job, they’d end up in jail—or dead.

But if Mac got swayed, he could sway Keagan. And once Keagan was on board, it would get harder and harder for me to say no.

The Downey brothers stuck together. And I owed Shane.

“So, you in?” Shane asked. “Nick?”

I shook my head and grabbed another beer.

I peeked over the edge of the third-floor railing.

Nick was in the courtyard, sitting by the pool and talking to two men, maybe two of his brothers? All three men were tall, dark, and handsome, but Nick was by far the biggest, and to me the most handsome.

The one with his feet on the pool ladder was well built, too, and seemed to have a permanent grin on his face under what looked, from a distance, to be designer sunglasses. Knock-offs, no doubt. Or stolen. The other brother was thinner and looked nervous and jumpy.

Between them, Nick’s broad body filled every inch of his chair, his long legs spread wide, and I felt a sharp pang of longing. An urge to jump off the balcony and into his lap.

Even though I’d seen Nick almost every day since I’d found out the truth—I missed him. I missed him so much. This man. This big bear of a man. This gentle giant.

But I couldn’t trust him.

Still, his attempts to apologize had been wearing me down, and I wondered if he’d spotted the flowers in the pool. From up here, their pink and red blooms practically glowed against the green muck, but I wasn’t sure about the angle from his chair.

His apology card had been sweet, if corny. A big-eyed cartoon kitten offering a slice of chocolate cake on the front, with the words “Can You Ever Forgive Me” inside, and a simple “Please,” in heavy printing below that.

I’d nearly caved when I got that latest offering—especially since I felt bad about what I’d done with his chocolates.

I sighed. I’d been dumb to imagine I could trust him.

I was born without the happily-ever-after gene—or even the happy-for-a-little-while gene—but maybe it was time to cave and go back to the way things were between Nick and me before I freaked out. Back to sharing breakfasts and dinners, joking around—and most of all fucking.

Nick might be a liar, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t have sex. Did it? Every man I’d ever known had been a liar, and yet I’d survived. All would be fine as long as I didn’t let myself get too attached.

And now that I thought it through, it might be easier for me now Nick had shown his true colors, taking any possibility of a future off the table. He’d crushed my expectations minutes after I’d set them.

Or was I rationalizing? Going with what my body wanted? Talking myself into a world of emotional pain for some physical satisfaction?

I rubbed my legs together, trying to quiet the throbbing ache that was missing Nick. My phone rang.

The well-built brother looked up, and I quickly stepped back from the railing, hoping I hadn’t been spotted.

I glanced at the phone as I pushed open my apartment door.

“Hey, Crystal,” I said. “Everything okay?”

“I miss you,” she answered. “I wish you were living with me in Sunnyvale.”

“I miss you too, kid.”

“You wouldn’t believe how shitty the food is,” she said. “My roommates are terrible cooks. It’s like I have a choice of either getting fat or starving to death.”

“Why eat their food? Why not do your own thing?”

“You know I can’t cook.” She said this like I was being ridiculous. And maybe I was. If I’d been born without the relationship gene, Crystal had been born without the cooking gene. Not that I’d ever given her a chance to try.

“I should have taught you.” I switched the phone to the other ear so I could open the fridge and grab some leftover pasta. If we’d had a mom, or if Frank were a legit grown-up, they would have taught us both to cook.

Crystal told me about her classes and the boys she found cute as I took the lid off the glass storage dish, grabbed a fork, and started eating out of the bowl. Even cold, the pasta was good, the tomatoes bitingly fresh and the olives and capers adding just the right amount of acidity and salt. Although…

I put Crystal on speaker, grabbed a small block of parm and a micro plane I’d found at a thrift store and grated cheese onto the dish. After thirty seconds in the microwave, it was perfect.

“Be careful,” I told her as she described one of the boys she was crushing on. “You trust men too easily.”

“No, I don’t,” Crystal said defensively. “And even if I do, it’s better than your way—never trusting anyone.”

Touché, I thought, as I took another bite of pasta. Although I’d take my way over hers any day. Her way left her wallet exposed and open, her body unshielded from punches, and her heart laid out and ready to be crushed—all of which had happened to my little sister, more than once.

“How’s the strip club business?” she asked.

“Not as bad as I expected.” I popped an olive into my mouth.

“At least you’re not a stripper,” Crystal said, and I could hear her turned-up nose through her voice. “That would be majorly depressing, not to mention disgusting.”

I stayed silent. My sister didn’t need to know I planned to go on stage. If it turned out well, I’d tell her then. Or never.

Melodie had coached me over the past week, and she’d coaxed Stan into letting me audition. Stan had approved, and soon I’d dance. I was nervous about it, but nothing could be as bad as dancing privately for our manager.

Maybe that was Stan’s evil plan. Be so gross when the dancers auditioned that being on stage for the customers would be less disgusting in comparison.

Stan was a creep, the way he looked at and touched the women in the club, the way he used his power as our boss to do whatever he wanted. If it hadn’t been for Nick, I’m not sure I’d have lasted one night in that club, never mind the two weeks I’d worked there.

I’d only stayed the first night because of Nick’s lie.

But if I was honest, Nick’s being there had given me a bigger reason to say. He made me feel safe. Knowing he was in the room helped me pretend to be confident and strong around the groping customers.

Deep down, I also knew Nick was the reason I’d be able to go on stage to dance. He’d be in the audience, keeping me, and all the other girls, protected. And Nick would be there when I danced, his eyes on me as I seductively flaunted my body…

I flashed back to my impromptu private dance for Nick, the dance that had led to—

“What do you think?” Crystal asked.

“About what?” I set my fork on the counter beside the half-eaten dish of pasta. “Sorry, I got distracted.”

“I was saying… this friend of mine, Oliver? He has a car. If I borrow it, maybe we can go up to see Dad on Monday?”

“Sure. Depending on my work schedule.” I had Monday’s off, but for some reason didn’t want to commit to Crystal, yet.

“Great.”

Someone knocked on my door. I was tempted to ignore it, but it might be Melodie, or the female cop I’d met in the laundry room. Apparently this place wasn’t entirely populated by criminals.

What if it was Nick? My insides pulsed at that thought.

“Gotta go,” I told Crystal.

“‘Kay! Love you. Bye!” She ended the call before I could even respond.

I stared at the door, hoping it wasn’t Nick.

Not because I didn’t want to see him, but because of how badly I did.