I hadn’t heard from Frasier in weeks. I needed my brother. Needed someone to turn to for advice, even someone who’d never had a long-term job, didn’t graduate from high school, and was basically a hobo. It’s not like I could go to my parents. They were the absolute last resort.

I was preoccupied at the diner, which led to wrong orders, forgotten refills, and lousy tips. Not my customers’ fault. I was the one with my head in the clouds: the money-shaped, unreachable green kind. I didn’t have thirteen thousand dollars. I barely made my half of the rent and utilities, plus drop-in dance classes and groceries, with a little left over for dinner out sometimes or a bottle of shampoo. I wouldn’t be able to save thirteen grand in a year, let alone two weeks.

One thing I knew, though—I couldn’t go home. Not now. Not when I’d promised to help. It’s not that I had planned to move back to Hillstone, but it had always been a possibility in the back of my mind. But now, that would be running away. Abandoning Nico and Bronwyn to a miserable fate.

The other thing I knew—if I were to come up with any money whatsoever—I’d have to quit dance classes. The whole reason for my move to Vegas had gotten run over by me and my big, promise-making mouth.

I hurried through Eastside Boxing and up the stairs to Nico’s apartment, hoping not to run into Jay Thornton on the way. The gym was empty.

Nico greeted me at his door with a hopeful smile. “Got the money already?”

If I hadn’t been born and bred a preacher’s daughter, I would’ve flipped him off. “No, sorry. And before you ask, I have no idea how, either.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really think you’d be able to.” He slumped into the apartment and collapsed on his bed.

“Do you have anything saved at all?” I asked, not bothering to sit. His counter was piled with dirty dishes, clothes littered the floor, and the bed was unmade. The whole place smelled like sweat and alcohol.

He shook his head. “What I save, I hand over to Ting. But interest keeps kicking me in the butt. I can’t get ahead of it.”

“We’ll think of something.” I hoped he noticed my use of the word we. Not me. Even though I’d agreed to come up with the money, this was still Nico’s problem. I had a feeling he was all too happy letting me sort it out.

“Does anyone use the room just outside?” I asked.

Nico frowned. “You mean that empty space? Don’t think so.”

“Can I use it then?”

“For what?”

“Dance space.”

Nico snorted. “You gonna teach your way to thirteen grand?”

My lips tightened. “No. But I’ll have to quit classes, so I thought maybe I could use the space to practice. Keep in shape. Bronwyn’s apartment isn’t big enough.”

He lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Sure, why not? I’ll run it by Old Man McCrary, but as long as you don’t get in anyone’s way or blast your music or something, it probably won’t matter.”

“I can stick to practicing after hours, as long as I’m not working.” I put some dirty dishes in Nico’s sink. “Who’s Old Man McCrary?”

“The owner. He’s not around a lot.” His voice lowered. “Don’t tell anyone, but he’s old.”

I rolled my eyes. Nico was still lying down so I took a peek inside his fridge. Bottles of Heineken, mustard, ketchup, and a huge jar of pickles. Nothing else. I made a note to tell Bronwyn.

“He’s got health issues,” Nico continued. “Don’t know what exactly. Jay knows. He’s been visiting him in the hospital lately.”

I shut the fridge and turned around. “Are they related?”

“Naw, he just likes the guy.”

I tried to picture Jay Thornton visiting an old man in the hospital, taking him flowers or a giant balloon that said, “Get Well Soon.” The image wouldn’t stick.

It was like a parallel universe, this place I was in now. One where Nico was kind of friends with the guy who beat him up. Or, if not friends, then at least friendly enough to know things about him. To work in the same place. Seriously, what kind of people thought this was a normal way to live?

Nico sat up, bracing his fists on either side of his legs. “Is Bronwyn mad?”

“No idea.” I wasn’t about to get in the middle of their relationship. “I better go. I’ve got to work. I’ll be back tomorrow night to use the space, so text me before if I can’t.”

Nico got up and I thought he was seeing me out but he went to the fridge and grabbed a beer instead. “Right-o.”

I headed down the stairs and into the gym. Sunlight streamed through the glass wall but the whole place looked lonely. It was still morning, classes probably didn’t start until later. Someone moved near the front, at the desk, turning toward me as I picked my way around the mats.

“I’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” Jay said.

I hadn’t noticed before how deep his voice was, or how it reverberated through my entire body. “I was thinking the same about you.”

“I work here, remember?” He pointed to the Eastside Boxing shirt he had on. The shirt was sleeveless, highlighting his tanned and perfectly ripped biceps. I tried not to look.

“I have a friend who lives here, remember?”

“Friend?” Jay made it to the door before I did. He leaned against it, ever-so-casually blocking my way.

“I have to work,” I said, ignoring his question. Nico was a friend, sort of. I felt sorry for him. And I liked Bronwyn—she was a friend. But maybe getting sucked into Nico’s world hadn’t been such a good idea.

Too late now. And nothing I wanted to discuss with Jay Thornton.

Jay crossed his arms, his biceps flexing. I really tried not to look. “I wouldn’t think that diner paid you enough.”

I tugged on my uniform’s miniskirt, which only drew Jay’s attention to my legs.

“To get Officer Ting’s money, you mean?”

Jay didn’t move. Maybe he liked having this bit of power over me.

After a few seconds, I decided to just push around him. He didn’t let me. Instead, he grabbed onto my elbow. His fingers trailed the back of my arm, leaving me breathless. His eyes softened. His whole face did, hard lines melting away as if he were becoming someone else.

“You don’t get it. Simon Ting isn’t someone to mess with.” He paused, the silence punctuating my beating heart. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Then don’t hurt me.”

“I don’t want to.” It was practically a whisper.

I’d gotten closer without realizing. My hips flush with his. He smelled like soap and sweat. My eyes were on his lips.

Annoyed, I stepped back. Jay was doing his job. Making sure I paid. Instead of his usual beatdown, he was playing nice. Drawing me in. Anything to get the money I owed his boss. And I was falling for it.

“I’m not stupid,” I said.

His lip curled. “Prove me wrong.”

I moved his hand from the knob. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

Sitting on the couch in the apartment, my feet up on the coffee table, a blanket covered my legs despite the lingering heat of the night. Behind me, Bronwyn was tinkering around in the kitchen.

“A bank loan,” I said, staring at a black and white photograph hanging on the wall. It was of a couple kissing on the street. “That’s all I can think of.”

Bronwyn said nothing. A cupboard door slammed.

If the bank approved me, I could pay off the lump sum to Simon Ting and then Nico could pay me back in installments, which I could then pay back to the bank. Provided Nico paid me on time and didn’t flake out. I wasn’t confident in that.

“They might make me get a co-signer though,” I said.

Bronwyn circled the table and sat beside me, a cup of noodles in one hand and a spoon in the other.

“Have you ever tried to get a loan?” I asked her. If anyone was doing this for Nico, then why not Bronwyn? Maybe it hadn’t occurred to them. Maybe she couldn’t get approved.

She buried her nose in her cup, steam rising around her face. “Nico won’t let me.” She met my eyes and her face was shiny. “He won’t take a dime from me.”

I tossed the blanket off my lap.

“I’m his girlfriend,” she continued. “If he takes my money, he’s worried people, or I, will think that’s the only reason he’s with me.”

That was sweet, but stupid. Maybe Nico wouldn’t be in this mess if he’d let Bronwyn get the money for him. But maybe their relationship wouldn’t last with that kind of stress between them, either. Maybe Bronwyn didn’t trust Nico to pay her back.

“I doubt my dad will co-sign,” I said. Bronwyn took a big slurp, a noodle hung down her chin before she sucked it through her lips. “Not if he knows what it’s for. And I don’t have a good enough lie.”

“I wish you hadn’t done this.”

“A simple ‘thank you’ will be fine.”

She smacked me lightly. “Thank you. But I wish you hadn’t done it. We never should have let you get involved in this mess.” She went back to her soup, drinking straight from the cup, her spoon ignored. “If you need a lie, we’ll come up with something.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea? The bank, I mean.”

“I think it’ll get that loan shark off our backs.” She paused. “And if Nico doesn’t pay you back, I will.”

That hardly made me feel better.

“That was the first time I met Ting,” she said. “Did you know—”

A knock sounded on the door. “I’ll get it,” I said, rising from the couch. I squinted through the peephole but all I could see was the back of a dark head. Nico maybe, but the skin below the dark hair was too light.

I cracked open the door. I was getting used to Vegas, but you couldn’t be too careful.

The man turned around.

“Frasier?”

My brother grinned at me. I threw my arms around him and he lifted me with a grunt.

“Have you gotten taller?” he asked when he set me down.

“Not lately.” I looked him over. His hair was longer but he’d shaved the goatee he’d been sporting the last time I saw him. He looked thinner than I remembered and dark circles shadowed his eyes, but his smile was just as bright.

“Are you going to let me in, or what?”

“Right!” I grabbed his arm and hauled him inside, shutting the door behind us. “Bron, I’ve got a surprise!”

Her mouth dropped open when she spotted Frasier. “You dirty rat,” she said, putting her cup of soup on the coffee table and giving him a hug. She pulled away. “If you think you can mooch off me, think again. I’ve already got one Hale under my roof, I’m not taking another.”

He laughed. “Come on. Just a few nights? You wouldn’t keep me from my baby sister, would you? Especially since we haven’t seen each other in years.”

She groaned but slung an arm around his shoulder. It was weird to see them like this. I barely remembered Bronwyn from high school. Fraze had never invited her over. Despite him contacting her for me, and the whole make-out story, I never imagined they were that close.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, retaking my spot on the couch. Frasier dropped a duffle bag on the floor and then plopped down beside me.

“Passing through. But I’ll stay a few days.” He craned his neck over the couch and raised his voice unnaturally high. “Making sure my friend is treating my sister right.”

Bronwyn snorted from the kitchen. “Maggie wouldn’t have lasted three days without me.”

“And Bronwyn wouldn’t have lasted yesterday without me.”

Fraze raised his eyebrows at me.

“You gonna crash on the couch then?” Bronwyn said before Frasier could ask what I’d meant.

“If that’s okay,” he said.

“Does it matter if it’s not?” she asked.

“Nope.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I haven’t heard from you in forever,” I said, pulling his attention away from Bronwyn. “How did you get here from Seattle?”

He shrugged. “Bus, train, car, feet, you name it. I met this girl in Boise who has a thing for road trips and the tall, dark, and handsome type.” He waggled his eyebrows. “She drove me most of the way.”

I rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.” It wouldn’t last. He wouldn’t stay, he never did, so I would take what I could get.

“Me too, Mags.” He patted my head while Bronwyn looked on, an unreadable expression on her face. “Me too.”