It had been a few days since I dropped Mel home after I let her stay the night. I hadn't heard from her since. Not that I expected to. She’d made it clear that she didn't need me in her life. I should've been okay with that. I already had enough shit going on in my own life without throwing Mel into the mix. It wasn’t a good idea. Her head wasn't right. She was hurting in a way I could never understand. I’d never lost anyone I was close to before, so why I thought she’d come to me for help was beyond me. Maybe I thought that if I’d said it, she wouldn't think I was a complete arse. Which was fucking stupid. Twelve months ago I wouldn't have cared what she’d thought of me at all. Now I was back home, I couldn't help but think about her.

It was clear she needed someone, and even if that someone wasn't me, I still couldn't turn my back on her.

For three days I mulled it over. Three days pacing the apartment, wondering if friendship was even an option for us. It had been once before I stupidly decided that I wanted more with her. If we hadn't crossed the line back then, who knew? Maybe we could've forged a decent friendship.

I scoffed at the very thought. What did I know about being friends with a girl? I mean, other than Aubrie—who I’d become friends with through default—I rarely ever hung out with chicks. Women were crazy. Was all the drama that followed them really worth it?

Would she even want to be friends?

No, Mel was right to stay away from me. Being around me would only complicate things further. Besides, I had more important shit to deal with. Taylor and I had barely exchanged a single glance since that night. I wasn't confrontational. I didn't hit people, especially someone who happened to be my brother. When he’d made that remark about Mel, I’d seen red. I’d wanted him to throw a punch back. Or at the very least, tell me what a bastard I was. Anything that didn't include the hurt I had caused him. I’d never raised a fist to him before. Not even back in college while we were mucking around. I was still trying to understand why I reacted the way I did. I knew I needed to apologise. I just didn't know how or what I would say to make things better again.

“Hey, Jake.” I shook myself out of my thoughts and glanced up just as Dan tipped his chin in greeting. At least, I think his name was Dan. Or was it Don? Fucked if I remembered.

I lifted a hand and breathed out a sigh of relief as he continued past me without another word. Thank fuck for that, I thought as I pushed back on the rowing machine. Six minutes and not a single twinge in my left knee. I knew I would be paying for it tomorrow, though.

You’ve just gotta work for it, I told myself as I repeated Coach’s words like a mantra in my head.

I ploughed through another six minutes before calling it a day. Unclicking the belt that held my feet in place, I swung my leg over the machine and reached for my water bottle.

“Jake?”

I glanced up and frowned. “Hey, Frankie, right?”

“Yeah, right.” Frankie shook her head and clutched the towel she was fisting to her chest. “About the other night…”

“Yeah, about that,” I began, rising to my feet. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. Mel said you tried to stop her and that she wouldn't listen.”

“Oh, don't sweat it. Seriously, I should've cut her off sooner. She's persistent, if nothing else.” Frankie giggled.

“Yeah, I guess she is.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for watching over her. She told me what happened, and honestly, I’m grateful it was you and not me.”

“You don't need to thank me.”

“I know. I guess I just wanted you to know that I care about her. A lot. I wouldn't ever let anything bad happen to her. That night, well, it was just a shit day for her.”

“Yeah, she mentioned her brother.”

“She did? Oh…” Frankie took a step back, frowning. She looked surprised.

“Anyway, I should be going,” I said, pointing my thumb towards the exit.

“Yeah, sure, sorry.”

“It's no bother.” I bent and reached for my towel, wincing as pain shot through me and I lost my footing.

“That looks painful.”

I squinted up at her. “It's nothing, really.”

Frankie nodded, her lips twisting as if she was thinking something over.

When I turned my back, taking a step forward, Frankie's hand gripped my shoulder. “She's not as tough as she makes out.” I turned, frowned, and urged her to continue. “Mel. She acts like she doesn't care, but she does. I love her, but she's a mess. This time of year is especially hard for her and I worry what she'll do.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m not saying she'll hurt herself or anything. God, no. I know she wouldn't do that. I’m just saying… she's not in a good place. She thinks the world is against her so she closes herself off to save face. But she's hurting. I don't know how much you know about her but she's not the girl she makes out to be. She's more vulnerable than you realise.”

“Look, I don't know what you expect me to do with this information.”

“I don't want you to do anything. Except, maybe be there for her. I know she could use a friend right now.”

“I don't think—”

“Be there for her, Jake. You never know, she may even surprise you.”

“I’m pretty certain I’m the last person she wants in her life right now. Besides, she has you.”

“No, you're different with her.”

I smirked. “How so?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her. The way she is around you. You can pretend to yourself that she doesn't matter to you, but you can’t pretend with me.”

“You're wrong.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” She shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Fine. But just so you know, she's at home. Alone. If you want to test my theory.” Frankie winked, slipped the towel around her neck and strutted off with a satisfied grin on her face.

The first words that came to mind when I pulled to a stop at the cast iron gates that lead onto the Livingston's property were déjà fuckin’ vu. Only this time Melanie wasn't in the car with me and I wasn't there because she'd spent the night puking all over my clothes.

I pounded my fist against the steering wheel and dropped my forehead. What the fuck was I doing? I shouldn't even be here.

But for whatever reason, I was.

It would be a lot easier if I just turned the car around and went home, or hit up a bar for a drink. But none of that was as appealing as sitting in a stationary vehicle, outside our town mayor's home. God, I was such an idiot.

A light tap on the window caused me to jerk my head. A lady, who looked much like my grandmother, peered in through the window. Shit. I wound it down.

“You look lost,” she stated. Her grey hair was pulled into a neat bun on top of her head. I noticed the apron she had on under her raincoat. She must be the Livingston’s maid.

“Eh… No. Not lost,” I managed to say. I closed my eyes in frustration before opening them again. “Is Melanie home?”

“Why, yes, she is. Are you a friend?” she asked dubiously.

“A friend? Yeah… I guess I am,” I mumbled.

“Sorry?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. It's nothing.”

She frowned. “She didn't mention anyone was stopping by.” If I knew any better, I’d say she was fishing for more information.

“No. She doesn't know. I was in the area and thought I’d…”

“Stop by? Because you were in the area?” The old lady cocked her head to the side, her smirk one of amusement.

“Yeah?” I said. It came out more like a question.

“Well, go on through, my dear.” Just as she said that, the gates slowly opened. I nodded my head in thanks and made my way up the driveway.

It's not too late to turn back.

I sighed heavily as I reeled over Frankie's words from earlier.

I pulled the car outside of the house and quickly cut the engine, not giving myself time to argue the toss over it. Jogging up the steps, I pushed the bell and ran my fingers through my hair, my eyes scanning the freshly cut lawn that sat to the left of the house. I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh air.

The door opened.

“Jake?”

“Hey,” I said, turning to face her. Hey? Really? You could do better than that. “Sorry.” I shook my head. “There was a lady… back there… She let me in.”

Mel tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Alice?”

“Yeah. Maybe. I dunno.”

Mel nodded and wrapped her arms around her chest. It was then I noticed what she was wearing. My jumper.

“Jake…”

“Sorry?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great. I’m sorry, were you busy?”

“No. Just making the most of my day off. Takeout and marathon Trecco Shore.” She grinned.

“Can't say I’ve ever seen it.”

“No? Well, you aren't missing much. It's not the same since Talia left.”

“Talia?” I frowned.

Mel rolled her eyes. “Don't worry. Forget it.”

“Right…” I scratched the back of my neck, my eyes drifting towards my car.

Well, this is fucking awkward.

“Did you want to come in?” Mel’s eyes twinkled in amusement. If I had known any better, I’d say she was loving every second of this. Since when did I become such a dick?

Get. A. Grip.

“As long as I’m not interrupting your day off.”

“Come in, Jake.” Mel sighed. Then she pushed the door back, waving me by. I met her eyes, shoved my hands in my jean pockets and slipped past her.

I’d never been inside the Livingston’s home before. We had come to one of their garden parties once but the house had been out of bounds. Now I knew why. Marble floors covered the floor beneath my feet and a double winding staircase showcased the grand high ceilings that looked to be made of the same material. A large oval table sat in the very centre of the grand hallway with a huge floral arrangement sat on top, which looked as though it had taken forever to make.

“I thought my parents’ house was impressive. This is… wow.”

I felt Mel approach and stop beside me. “Yeah. Crazy, right?”

Whistling, I said, “Well, there’s houses and then there's this.”

“It's over the top.”

“You don't like it?” I asked, flicking my eyes to hers.

Mel shrugged. “It's cold. It doesn't matter what time of year it is, it always seems so cold in here.”

I nodded and allowed my feet to carry me forward as I took in my surroundings. “It's the marble that makes it feel cold.”

When Mel mumbled something behind me and walked through to another room, I followed behind her. It looked like a living room, with surrounding L shaped sofas and large, open bay windows. The decor was modern in greys and whites and a huge log-burning stove sat in the centre of the room, appearing to be the main focus. My eyes went to the pictures that sat on the mantelpiece and my feet carried me towards them. They were mostly of her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Livingston, except for one, which sat in a dark oak frame. A young-looking Melanie sat cross-legged on a rug, smiling brightly up at a teenage boy who stood behind her. Her brother.

“I was fifteen when that picture was taken. Shawn was seventeen,” Melanie whispered as she came up behind me. I gazed intently at her eyes in the picture. I had never seen her look so alive and happy before. I instantly wondered what had happened to that girl, but I already knew the answer.

Her brother died.

“Why are you here?” Melanie eventually asked.

“Honestly?” I turned to face her. “I don't know.”

Her eyes held so much hope to them, I was afraid to say anything that would dull the glint. Her chest rose and fell with silent breaths, her arms still pressed tightly against her body.

“If you’re thinking of getting your jumper back, then think again.”

“Huh?”

“Your jumper.”

“I didn't come for the jumper, Mel.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Good, because I don't think I could give it back now. I like how warm it feels against my skin.”

I wanted to feel her skin. The thought of touching her made my dick hard.

And now I was suddenly jealous of a jumper.

I shook my head. “Keep the damn jumper,” I told her.

“Really? You're letting me keep it?” she asked with furrowed brows.

I shrugged. “It looks good on you.”

“Of course it does,” she grinned and took a seat on the couch. She was lost amongst all of the pillows that took up most of the seats. “If you're going to stand there all night then can you at least move? You're blocking my view of the TV.”

I didn't reply. Instead I took the seat farthest away from her and placed one of the overstuffed cushions on my lap. When I met Mel’s eyes, she was still grinning.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Do you mind if I finish this episode? There're only a few minutes left.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Mel nodded in response and pressed play. Music filled the room, making me jump. It seemed to come from every angle. “Are you sure that's loud enough?” I shouted, my lips curling to the side in a smirk.  

“Sorry.” She cringed. “It's habit.”

“To have the TV this loud? Are you deaf?”

“I only have it this loud when I’m on my own. It feels like I’m not alone when I do.”

“Well, you're not alone,” I told her, my words holding more meaning than I think even she realised.

Mel looked at me for the longest moment before a smile touched her lips. “No. I guess I’m not.”

“So, people actually get paid to get wasted on cheap alcohol and party all night?” I asked an hour later. After the end credits came on, a new episode started. A few minutes turned into sixty and there I was… still.

“Pretty much.” Mel laughed.

“Who knew? I’m clearly in the wrong job.”

“I don't know. I’m on season seven, and believe me, it isn't what it's cracked up to be.”

“How so?”

“Well,” she said, twisting to face me. “They're just kids, right? They don't really have any experience in the real world. They can barely hold a relationship and who can blame them? When their whole life is based on getting pissed and sleeping around, no relationship can ever really succeed.”

“I guess not. But they're still young. Maybe they aren't ready to tie themselves down to one person.” What the fuck was I doing? Why was I even talking about a shit fucking programme?

“For most of them, maybe, but for Talia it's different. She's so in love with Dean—the one with the spiky hair—and he doesn't feel the same way. Well, I think he does, but that's beside the point. She's crazy mad about him and he isn't the relationship type. He'd rather sleep with different girls every night than commit to Talia. All she wants to do is settle down with him, fall in love and live happily ever after, just the two of them.”

“I guess you can't make someone love you,” I said.

Mel thought for a second and shrugged. “No, I guess not.”

“I can't believe I’ve just wasted an hour of my life watching this shit.”

“What would you rather have done?” Mel asked, quirking a brow.

“I don't know.” I shrugged. “Anything but watch that shit.”

Mel rolled her eyes.

“What?” I asked, tossing the pillow at her.

“Okay, hotshot. What would you like to do? Anything. You name it, we’ll do it. It's only fair, right?”

I thought it over for a few moments, deciding against the obvious. Friends, I reminded myself. “Right, I’ve got it.”

“Took your time,” she teased.

“Whatever. So listen up.”

“I’m listening.”

“It's nothing bad. In fact, it doesn't involve you doing anything at all.”

Mel’s brows knitted in confusion. “Okay,” she said, sitting up straight. “I’m intrigued.”

I stood, stalked across the room to the fireplace, and picked up the photo frame before holding it up. “I wanna know who this girl is.”

“You want to know who she is?”

“Yeah. And I don't mean this one.” I waved my hand, gesturing to the version before me. “I mean, this one,” I said, pointing to the girl in the photo.

“You really want to know who she is?”

“I really want to know who she is.”

“Fine,” she said, jumping up from the couch. “Just give me five minutes. I need to get out of these shorts.”

“Huh?” I asked, but she'd already left the room. I could hear footsteps coming from above me. Two minutes later, she was back. She’d replaced her shorts with tight jeans but kept my hoodie on.

I frowned.

“You want to know who that girl is?”

I could only nod in response.

“Then come with me.”