Sunlight blankets the white sand in oppressive heat as I sit back on the lounge chair and sip my mai tai. I stare into the sky billowing with thick clouds. A warm rain showered the beach this morning. The drops plinked on the tarp of the outdoor terrace as we had our breakfast. We watched as wild chickens picked their way across the beach, their talons scratching for food.

Hard to believe a place like this exists.

It’s been three days of snorkeling, surfing, hiking, crazy-hot sex, and relaxing on the beach. I’ve never had so much fun in my life, but we’ll have to check out in an hour. Might as well take advantage of the free beachside drinks while it lasts.

Grayson lies on the chair beside me. He thumbs through his smartphone, his chiseled good looks at home on this beach paradise. I told him I wanted more at the luau. Since that night we haven’t talked about it.

What if he changed his mind, and the moment we leave our cozy Hawaii bubble he decides it’s a bad idea?

It bothers me more than it should, especially when my living situation is up in the air. I’ll double down and search when we get back. I guess Henry’s tolerance for my presence will drop to nil.

Grayson checks his watch and swings from the chair. My eyes drink in his abs, which look carved from a statue. He leans over. Plants a kiss on my head. "Get your sexy ass up. We have to go."

I take one last mouthful of the mai tai and walk barefooted through the warm sand, giving the turquoise ocean one last view. What a perfect place.

He leads us back to the beachfront villa where our bags are packed, and I strip from my bathing suit, changing into shorts.

Grayson throws a T-shirt over his head. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, of course." I gaze out the windows, the dark blue storm rolling over the waves. "It was wonderful."

He takes my chin, guiding my mouth toward his lips. "We’ll be back here."

That’s not what’s worrying me. "If you say so."

A shiver runs down my spine as he touches my waist. "Believe me, Saffie. You’ll get sick of this place."

A smile hitches on my face even though a knot of nerves tightens my stomach. "Yeah, maybe I’ll start demanding trips to Paris."

He shrugs. "We could go there, too. What?"

"This doesn’t feel…it doesn’t feel real to me yet, you know?" My fingers intertwine with his as he descends, warming my mouth.

"I promise you it’ll feel real once we land in Santa Barbara. The world won’t let you forget that you’re mine."

He was right. The five-hour plane ride was all the time it took to spawn half-a-dozen articles confirming our romantic weekend getaway to Hawaii. A spread on the Sun showed us frolicking on the beach. In one photo, Grayson's arms wrapped around me. Another of us kissing sealed the deal, so I guess the secret’s out. If there was any doubt, my email was flooded with angry emails this morning. Reading them made me queasy to imagine the disgruntled fans taking ten minutes out of their day to mash their keyboards.

I’ve never experienced anything like this.

Grasping Grayson's hand, I ascend the steps to Los Albos Ranch. Grayson jiggles the key inside the door. It cracks open to the marble floor, and I brace myself for awkwardness. I’m not looking forward to explaining to Henry why I disregarded his wishes, and I don’t know what I’ll say. There’s so much bad blood it’s hard to imagine a future with them both.

I was hoping for a discreet entrance, but Grayson bangs the door open and shouts to the high-ceilings, "Hello!"

I grimace as voices in the living room suddenly stop, and a stocky man with a broad chest comes to greet us. "Hey, guys!"

With a big smile, Bulky takes my luggage and wheels it down the hall for me. "Welcome back."

That’s it?

I expected more than a cursory glance, but Bulky doesn’t seem to give a shit that Grayson and I jetted away to Hawaii together. My nerves jangle as I open the door to my room. Everything’s in place. The world didn’t explode while I was gone.

"So how was it?" Bulky asks, setting my luggage in the middle.

"Awesome. I’ve never been, so it was a unique experience for sure. White sand, warm water, wild chickens running around everywhere. It was great. Did anything happen here?"

"Nah. We kept the weekend pretty low-key." His broad smile becomes strained. "Tanner just dropped in."

"Tanner?"

"He’s the team manager," Bulky says. "Everyone’s outside talking."

"Another team meeting?"

Bulky’s eyebrows furrow in concern. "Sort of. You might want to—"

The door bumps open, admitting Grayson, whose wide shoulders push through the narrow frame. "Saff, let’s have lunch."

Bulky faces him. "You should probably go outside. Tanner’s here."

Grayson releases a long-suffering sigh, smoothing his hair. "Fine."

I look at them, nerves fluttering my stomach. "Is something wrong?"

Grayson makes a dismissing motion with his hand. "Nah, just another stupid meeting."

"All right. See you later." They back out of my room, Grayson blowing me a kiss before he shuts the door.

Now what?

I gaze at the laptop sitting on my desk. A film of dust coats the lid, and I brush it off. Anxiety pierces my chest. Weeks. I have weeks to find a job.

Luckily, I have the living situation sorted out. Fiona’s roommate went on sabbatical for a couple of months, and she needs someone to sublet a room. She’s only charging me a thousand dollars a month. I can handle that, even if I have to bus tables for a living. It’s only two months, but it gives me more breathing room.

And who knows? Someone might’ve replied to my applications by now.

I fire up the laptop, sinking into the wooden chair. My emails blink with a few new messages. I open the first from Hamlin & Hubert to read a cordial rejection email. The next several follow the rigid format.

We thank you for your interest in Law Firm, but we’ve decided to pass on your application at this time. Best of luck with your future endeavors.

I laugh at the last line. Isn’t that what the nonprofit firm said, word for word? Best of luck. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.

My Hawaii bubble pops, leaving me with sky-high anxiety. Nothing like having a fun weekend ruined by the sinking realization that your career is going nowhere.

I make coffee from the kitchen, glancing at the boys outside seated in a circle around the firepit. Dashing back to my room, I let the coffee eat at my guts as I type cover letter after cover letter. I ignore the gnawing hopelessness as I search for available positions. I don’t understand how I managed to forget how desperate my situation is, but now that reality’s here to bite me in the ass, I’m panicking.

A soft knock at the door interrupts my existential crisis. Grayson might not know what to do, but at least he’ll listen. I could use some company.

"Come in," I say, shutting the laptop.

Henry pokes his head through. His light blue eyes scan the room, settling on my unpacked luggage. My stomach clenches.

"Can we talk?" he says, voice like lead.

I nod, wiping my thighs. Here we go.

There’s no telling what’s going on in his mind. The last time we spoke was an awkward exchange after the disastrous dinner with his wife, and I haven’t seen him since the bombshell exploded at the five-year party. I’m disappointed, but it’s not my place to get involved.

The door shuts behind him, and he sinks into my mattress with a resigned sigh. My brother has seen better days. His blond waves are frazzled, and deep shadows purple the space under his eyes. His clothes are wrinkled as though he slept in them, and unhappiness lines his face.

"How have you been doing?"

He shrugs, looking at his clasped hands. "Fine, I guess."

Right. "How about you and Gisele?"

He flinches at the mention of her name. "I don’t know," he says in a low voice. "We might be over. It’s been a rough couple of days. She won’t talk to me. I need to get her back."

I have a hard time imagining a woman like Gisele sticking with a man who had an affair. "You have to prepare for the possibility that she won’t want to be with you."

"I know," he moans, sinking his face into his hands. "I fucked up."

Biting my lip, I ask the question that’s been needling me all weekend. "Are you the father?"

He looks at a point beyond my shoulder. "Yes."

"Wow. That’s really—wow."

"My life is pretty much over."

Finding any sympathy for him is impossible. "It’ll be a miracle if Gisele wants to stay with you after that. How could you let that happen?"

"I made a goddamn mistake. She told me she was on the pill, and like an idiot, I believed her. I had no idea they were trying for a baby. Otherwise I never would’ve touched her."

"The fact you didn’t wrap your dick doesn’t surprise me. Cheating on your wife with your best friend’s girl blows my mind. Why the hell did you do it?"

He glares at me. "I didn’t come here to be interrogated by you, especially when I woke up this morning to see photographs of my sister being groped by the asshole making my life hell. You gave me your word you’d stay away from him."

I swallow hard, tempted to smack the side of his head. "I’m sorry I went behind your back. I didn’t come here expecting any of this to happen."

"And what is 'this'? Exactly what do you expect will happen between you and Grayson?"

"I don’t know." My cheeks go hot. "We both want more. He wants to keep seeing me after the summer is over."

Henry’s unkind laughter rings in my ears. "He said that? Ah, I suppose he would. Probably wants to milk this as long as he can."

"What are you saying?" I ask him, heart pounding.

"Nothing," he says with that strange smile. "I’d hate to ruin your fantasy."

Dick. "Don’t do that. Either explain what you’re on about or shut up."

He shakes his head. "I’m not here to fight with you, Saffie. I could use your help."

"With what?"

"Remember when I brought up doing interviews for me? I need good press right now."

Yeah, I haven’t forgotten. He wants me to sing his praises and gush about what a wonderful brother he was, never mind that he hasn’t shown the slightest interest in me for years. "I don’t understand how I can help."

"You haven’t read the news lately, have you?"

I shrug. "Not really."

He drums his fingers against each other. "Look, I know you probably didn’t mean for this to happen, but the entire Grizzlies community is in an uproar. They want Grayson traded from the team because he’s been dating you."

"What?" I seize my laptop, Googling Grayson's name. A stream of vitriol scrolls down my screen.

"The fans blame Grayson for the feud that was publicized a few days ago."

"But that’s not true."

"Right. That’s why I want to do an interview together. I give my blessing to your new relationship with Grayson, deny allegations of a fight, and this mess blows away. Otherwise, Grayson will be traded to another team. The manager was here to discuss it."

Oh my God.

My hand flies to my chest. "They’re going to kick him off the team? That’s just crazy!"

"Not really, when you think about it. He’s been asking for it all summer with the crazy parties and inappropriate behavior. Tanner seems convinced he’ll be bad for the team."

I stand from the chair. "Well, where is he? I’ll tell him myself."

"He already left, Saffie." He leans forward, patting my hand. "Don’t worry. We’ll sort this out."

"How—I mean—do you have something set up already?"

"Yeah, I’m supposed to have lunch with a reporter in an hour. Will you come?"

"Of course."

Henry’s face sags with relief. "Thank you. This is really important to me."

Which is odd. "Why? You hate Grayson."

"I don’t like him, but that doesn’t change the fact he’s a great striker. I need him on the team, Saffie. We’re going to the World Cup, and I know we have a shot at winning with him there. Trading him would lower morale."

Nodding, I close my laptop and set it aside. "Is he coming with us, too?"

Henry grimaces. "No. If you don’t mind, I’d rather leave him out of this. He has a tendency to sabotage himself as far as his career’s concerned."

"Okay."

Henry stands, looking pleased. "Oh, and I talked to Dad. He says he’d be willing to give you a position in the firm if you do this interview."

My stomach clenches. "I don’t know if I can work with him."

"Don’t be ridiculous, Saffie. Hundreds of people work there. The odds of you running into him are small."

"He said he never wanted to see me again." Henry lowers his eyes. "Now he’s offering me a job?"

A strained silence hangs between us until Henry speaks in soft tones. "Only if you do this for me."

Of course.

"And he wants you to come to dinner on the Fourth."

I gape at Henry. "You and Gisele are still hosting?"

"No, our cousin Luke is. Gisele is boarding a plane to Italy."

Wow, it sounds like their marriage is over. I don’t know whether to nod and say "You deserve it," or express sympathy.

"Sorry to hear that."

"I’m not giving up on her. There’s still hope."

I have to be honest. "Not with another woman’s baby in the picture."

"Well, the kid doesn’t have to be in my life either."

My mouth drops open. "You’re not going to be involved?"

"I have no interest in playing father to a child I never wanted." Henry gives me a curious look. "What?"

I flatten my lips, holding back from calling him a coward and an asshole because if he doesn’t want the baby in his life, the kid is probably better off without him.

Henry shrugs when I don’t respond and heads for the door. "Be ready in an hour."

I stare at him, trying to connect the boy I called brother with the man he grew into. People make mistakes. No one’s perfect. Everyone does something they regret at some point.

I’m twisted inside, my memories of the golden-haired boy tugging at my hand battling with the reality of the remorseless jerk he's become.

My elbow burns from the sunlight creeping under the umbrella. We’re seated outside, at a chic Mediterranean restaurant with plenty of open space for paparazzi. I suspect that’s why Henry chose this place. He wants the world to know we’re on good terms, but honestly…I’m not sure we are.

He’s family. Your only family.

Relatives who’ll speak to me are in short supply, so I should give him a shot even if I currently despise him. Yeah, I can’t be coy about it. I don’t like my brother. I don’t respect the man he is.

Reminding myself why I’m here makes me sit straighter in the metallic chair and smile brightly at my brother. Grayson needs his image scrubbed for the press, or he’ll lose his place on the team. I can tolerate a few hours in my brother’s presence for that.

Henry sips a tall glass of ice water, ignoring his spinach salad as I pick at the plate of hummus and falafel patties. "Where is he?"

"Late." Henry sets the glass down, wincing when water spills over the sides. "Goddamn it."

"Would you relax? You’re starting to freak me out."

"My career is hanging by a thread," he growls. "Sorry for being a little jumpy."

"I thought this was about Grayson."

"It is, but frankly, it’s a miracle the mess with my wife hasn’t been published. When it comes out, I want to be prepared. I want you vouching for me."

I promised, didn’t I? Self-disgust rises in my throat like vomit. "What makes you think it’ll get out?"

He rips the shades off his face and spins them on the table. "Come on. Grayson has more than enough reason to go to the media. Kris might if I stop paying her—who the fuck knows? The crazy bitch might do it anyway just to spite me. A dozen people must’ve overheard us at the party, and then there’s you. My broke sister."

I’d like to stab his hand with my fork. "You made me sign an NDA, Henry. I legally can’t out your dirty little secret, nor would I want to."

"That contract wasn’t as ironclad as I’d like."

"You mean the fact it only covers anything that might happen at the house? Yeah, I picked up on that. I’m a lawyer."

He looks away, eyes downcast. "Sorry."

"You’re a cruel person. What you did to Grayson was unforgivable, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to screw you."

"You might if they offered you tens of thousands for a story. It happens to me all the time, Saffie."

"I won’t do that."

"Don’t take it personally, but we haven’t been close in years, and you came to me, desperate. Forgive me for being a little worried."

The more he talks, the less I like him. I wish he’d shut up. "Is that him?"

"Where?"

I point at a man behind the dozen or so glass tables. He squints against the sun. A canvas bag is slung over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Henry says, smoothing his shirt. "I think so."

The man waves, seeing us. He seems to be in his forties, and he wears his hair in a short buzz cut. I suck in air as he heads for our table, preparing myself for an afternoon of lying through my teeth.

The reporter greets us with a cheery smile, apparently enthusiastic to be in the presence of Henry Pardini. I shake his hand and try to smile like Henry told me.

"All right. Shall we begin? You don’t mind if I record the conversation, do you?"

"Of course not," Henry says.

The interview passes relatively painlessly. Henry starts off by putting rumors of the feud to rest and giving my relationship with Grayson a blessing.

And then the questions target me. When did we start dating? Why was I at the ranch? How come we’ve never been sighted together before now? Where do I see Grayson and myself in five years?

Even my college girlfriends never pried so deep about my goddamn relationships. It’s awkward to lay it out there to a stranger, and even worse to grit my teeth and lie about what a wonderful, supporting brother he’s been.

"Right," Adrian says after two grueling hours, shuffling his notes into a pile. "I think I have everything I need."

"When will it be published?"

"Oh, you’ll see it in a few days. Thanks so much." He shakes Henry’s hand, then mine. "Take care."

I sink into my seat, feeling as exhausted as Henry looks. "You did good," he says.

If that’s true, why do I feel so rotten?

Henry drops me off at the ranch, explaining that he’ll be back later this week for the party. I’m not sorry to see the back of him. Sighing, I push the massive doors open and step inside. It’s strange that I think of this place like home, because I’ve never felt so rudderless in my life.

I head straight for my room, not wanting to join the voices in the back. When the door shuts behind me, I curl into a ball on my bed. In less than a week I’m going to see my father.

My door swings open after a brief knock, Grayson strolling into my space as though he owns it. He’s always struck me as a larger-than-life character, a man who commands the space he’s in without effort, but he treats me like I’m the center of his universe. His smile fades, and he sinks into the mattress beside me. "You don’t look too happy."

His hand splays over my back, warm and comforting. "It wasn’t pleasant."

"What the hell did he do now?"

"Nothing. He just wants me to go to the Fourth of July thing, and my father will be there."

"Don’t go. Stay with us."

"I want to, but Henry says he found me a job at my father’s firm. I know this is asking a lot, but will you go with me?"

He lets out a bark of laughter. "I’m pretty sure Henry won’t want me there."

"I’ll make him say yes."

Grayson sighs with a resigned smile, kissing my forehead. "I’ll come, but you owe me big. I can only stomach that asshole’s presence for so long."

I lean into his embrace, not quite understanding how he became the solid foundation under my feet. "Thank you."

"I have something for you," he whispers in the shell of my ear. "Close your eyes."

A hot drop of excitement runs down my throat as I follow his teasing grin to the door. He wraps my hands around his waist, and I follow him outside. He guides me through the house, which is blissfully quiet. I stare at the backs of my eyelids, disoriented as Grayson brings me into what I assume is the kitchen. The door to the backyard slides open and warm air envelopes me.

"Open," he says.

A string of lights illuminates the backyard, which still burns with the orange glow of sunset. Near the firepit stands a table set for two, aluminum foil wrapped around two plates, silverware already set, wine glasses filled from a bottle of Opus One.

Such a sweet gesture. I would’ve never believed Grayson was capable of this.

I curl my arm around his waist. "You’re making me look so terrible. First a cat cafe date, then Hawaii, now this? I can’t keep up with you."

"I’m not expecting you to wine and dine me if that’s what you’re worried about. All you have to do is put out."

"Which I do plenty of already." I kiss him softly. "You’re wonderful."

"I know."

"I want to do something for you, too. I just don’t know what."

Grayson draws me in for a kiss that warms me down to my toes. "Believe me, Saffie. I have everything I want. Now sit down before the steaks get cold."

He slaps my ass, and I pull out the chair, peeling back the aluminum to reveal a perfectly charred T-bone steak, grilled broccolini, and potatoes. I take a long sip of the wine and shudder as its warmth spreads through my chest. "This is amazing, Grayson."

He smiles broadly. "Thanks."

Over the last few weeks, I’ve done the lion’s share of the cooking. They’ve mostly been bland dishes from recipes attached to the fridge from their nutritionist. On the weekends, though, Grayson likes firing up the grill. There is absolutely nothing like a warm summer night, a cold beer, and the smell of charcoal mingled with grilled meat. He even cut watermelon for us. Triangles of the red fruit sit on ice in a bowl.

"So, good news," I say as we dig in. "I have a place to stay in the city. My buddy said I could stay there for a couple of months while her roommate’s out of town."

"That’s not long." He frowns, spearing a potato. "Why not crash with me?"

My knife scrapes the ceramic plate, and I set it down, heart hammering. I don’t want to assume that Grayson feels the same way I do—that these have been the best weeks of my life. "That’s a little fast, isn’t it?"

"You’re the one dragging me to meet your dad."

I laugh. "Trust me, that’s not why. Besides, you’ve already met him."

He leans across the table and takes my hand. The butterflies lodge somewhere in my throat. "This is more than just a fling, Saffie. I want more, and so do you. I’m not going to let something stupid like rent money get between us. Don’t you want to give us a shot?"

"Yes. Of course, I do." I squeeze his hand. "It’s just—this doesn’t feel real. A few weeks ago you wanted a friends-with-benefits thing. Now we’re moving in together?"

"It’s not a big deal. You’d be staying at my place until you figure things out."

Not having to worry about rent for a few months would be huge for my stress. "How long?"

"For as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere until late September."

The sleepy stupor from a hot meal and wine vanishes. "I guess…I’ll have to wait for you to come back."

"Or you could follow me around the country." He says it in a shrugging tone, as though it’s nothing huge.

Basically, he’s asking me to be his live-in girlfriend. A grin spreads across my face as I imagine our whirlwind romance, jetting with him around the world, cheering him in the stands, and killing time in hotel rooms. It’s on the tip of my tongue to fly into his arms and say yes. I want to be with him more than I want a stupid job at my father’s firm.

"We’d visit a cat cafe in every city we visit. Now you can’t say no."

"I don’t want to." I glance at my chipped nails and suck in a ragged breath. "I just can’t help but feel I’d be leeching off you."

"I’ll worry about that when you start demanding Prada bags."

My hair twists around my finger, and I yank hard, wishing I knew what I should do. Going on a year-long sabbatical would be career suicide, but a knife twists in my chest at the thought of being separated for so long. What if I gave my feelings for him a chance to grow this into something stronger?

Let’s face it; I’m already more than halfway to yes. "I’ll think about it."