I pull into the parking lot and see both Corinna’s and Holly’s cars. I release a small sigh, grateful I caught her here. I jump out of my car and head inside through the front door. Flinging it open, I startle Holly.

“Oh, Colby!” She holds her hand up to her chest. “I was just about to lock up.”

“Sorry, Hols.” My eyes wander down the hall where I hear Sam Hunt blaring from the kitchen. I shake my head. Corinna and her country music. “I don’t need three guesses to find her.”

“Um, Colby? You might want to be careful walking in there,” Holly warns me. Turning her camera, she flicks the button into display mode, and my jaw unhinges at what the small display screen shows me.

She’s dressed in all white with her hair pulled back. Her arm is cocked back, and she’s flinging an orange mixture at— “Are those rocks?” I ask Holly, pulling the camera closer. Using the camera’s natural zoom, I lock in on Corinna’s face. Her expression has me arrested.

It’s anger. It’s fury. It’s devastation. It’s Corinna’s passion unleashed. I shudder, quickly going back into full screen. She’s letting all her emotions pour out. Why does no one seem to notice but me?

“Sure looks like it, doesn’t it?” Holly’s voice is filled with pride. “By the time Cori’s done, they’re going to be something really fucking special for the kid with cancer who’s getting this cake tomorrow. Then again, I’m not surprised. Cori just gives so much of herself.” She’s thoughtful for a minute, before giving me a head-to-toe perusal. “Hey, Colby. Are you busy tonight?”

I choke. I am in no way interested in Holly. I have never been. Ever since I saw Corinna years ago, her face is the only one I’ve compared every other woman to. And now her sister’s making a play? “What?” I manage to croak out.

“Listen, I’ve got a date, but I hate for Cori to have to clean all this shit up on her own. She’s exhausted.” Jesus Christ. I let out the breath I was holding. Holly bursts out in laughter. “You didn’t think I was asking you out, did you? Lord, Colby, you’ve always been Corinna’s. I think the only two people who haven’t realized it are the two of you.” Still laughing, she reaches up and pats my slack jaw. “You always thought you were so cute hiding your feelings in college. But Colby? Hurt her again, they’ll never find your dead body.” Holly’s eyes, a different shade of gold from Corinna’s, holds my gaze for a heated moment. “Lock up behind me, will you? Enjoy your evening.” Quietly, Holly slips out the front door.

I’m left standing in the hall, wondering why everyone thinks I’m going to hurt Corinna. It wasn’t me who kicked her out of my life years ago.

Flicking the bolts on the door, I notice the music pauses. Suddenly, the country slides away and the genius of Rush’s “The Pass” comes through the expensive sound system. Geddy Lee’s voice is interrupted by the occasional swoosh and thwat of what I assume is frosting hitting the cake.

Making my way down the hall, I realize I have to see the magnificence of Corinna working out her emotions using her medium of choice. Back when we were at UConn, Corinna would pour everything into her art. Several of her professors wanted her to consider putting her work on display, but she’d never do it. She said it was too personal. Now she was about to serve it up on a platter for others to consume.

Cracking the door to the kitchen, I see her magnificent hair has been pulled back into a braid and is overlaid with a hair net. She’s shed her chef’s coat. Her back is to me, so I can see her tattooed key on full display.

Never forget who you are.

Just as Corinna lets another handful of orange icing fly, I can’t help but wonder what made her get it. What hidden meaning does the key hold for her? It can’t possibly be the same as mine.

“If you’re going to stand at the door staring, Colby, you’re in danger of getting the remains of this frosting flung at you,” she says without turning around.

I move into the kitchen. “How did you know it was me?”

“Everyone else announces themselves in some way.” She still hasn’t turned around. “You’re the only one who doesn’t. You think you don’t have to.” Reaching into the bowl, she pulls out another handful of orange. Letting it fly, it splatters against the cake and the tarp behind it. “I don’t know why you assume you have that privilege.” Corinna places the bowl on the table and approaches the cake. Spinning it around, the untouched gray is now turned in her direction.

Finally, when she faces me, her face is devoid of the fiery emotion I saw captured on Holly’s camera. “What do you think so far?”

“Of what?” Of our conversation? I think it fucking sucks.

“Of the cake. A teenage football player for the Tigers was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. Caught in time, thank God. His parents called because tomorrow’s his birthday. Kids at RHS have been decorating the rocks at Lake Mamanasco in tribute since he was diagnosed. The parents sent me a bunch of pictures. I’m trying to recreate it.” She gestures to the photos blown up and taped to the walls.

I’m intrigued by the idea and blown away by the talent of the woman in front of me. She’s not just decorating a cake; she’s creating a memory. “You were always so brilliant at this,” I murmur as I step forward to get a closer look at the cake and the images.

“At what?” Corinna removes her gloves and throws them into the trash before reaching for a bottle of water. Taking a large drink, she lowers the volume on the music.

“Capturing the essence of life in your art. You bring life to things all around you, Cori.” I turn to find her shaking her head at me. A vile look takes over her face.

“Corinna, if you please. Cori is reserved for the people closest to me. People who actually give a shit.” Corinna’s voice is filled with loathing.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit how shaken I am at the vitriol in her voice. I step toward her, expecting her to retreat the way she always did back at school. But Corinna holds her ground. “You know that’s not true,” I grit out.

I care. I’ve always cared too damn much.

“Right.” Her drawl is pronounced, taunting me to break through her shell. I want to throw something to break through because I know better.

This heartless woman isn’t my Corinna.

Abruptly, I turn and face the graffiti images taped to the walls. They’re vulgar in their beauty, denouncing the disease that racked this man/child. Words jump out at me, like loyalty, forever, light, and love. In what some would consider the destruction of something beautiful, something even more precious was built. I’ll never understand how, but these kids made it happen. If they can do it, then so can Corinna and me. We can resolve whatever issues we have between us to get back what we had. Because I don’t think I can live without her in my life.

Without turning, I ask, “How much longer will this take you tonight?” I look over my shoulder to see Corinna loading up an airbrush with an almost ink-like substance. Food coloring, I surmise. Knowing the damage she’s done in the past when pissed off and wielding it, I have little doubt she’ll fling it at me if she’s angered enough. I turn back to face the artwork. Loyalty jumps out again at me. For some reason, that word makes my jaw tick.

Where was her loyalty for us?

“At least another six hours,” she says, matter-of-factly.

“Jesus Christ, Corinna!” I turn fully, food color explosion be damned. “That will put you here after midnight. Alone.”

“I’m a big girl, Colby. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this,” she retorts. I don’t miss her subtle emphasis on the word “big.” My eyes drop inadvertently to her luscious breasts. She’s big all right. In all the perfect places. She always has been.

Shaking her head in disgust, she mutters, “If this wasn’t the last of this color…”

I can feel the heat climb up the back of my neck. “You’ve always been a knockout,” I admit.

The snort that leaves her lips is full of disdain. “Oh, please. Give me a fucking break and just go. I don’t have time to deal with this.” She waves her hand toward the back door, dismissing me, queen to a peasant.

I might have left her without trying to climb over her walls, but I need for her to know. “I saw you the other day.”

“Unfortunately, I see you a lot these days. You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

Taking a deep breath, I step closer to the table where she’s just capped off the air gun. I place one hand on top of hers, forcing her to lower it down to the table. Infuriated mud-brown eyes lift up to mine. “Corinna, I had to get a CT scan on my shoulder for work.”

Any antagonism in her features leeches from her face. “No,” she whispers. Her eyes hold mine for a few more seconds before they start darting around the room. Everywhere but at me.

“Yes.” I capture her chin to hold her face steady. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” she immediately responds, trying to yank her face away. I apply the smallest amount of pressure and she stills.

“It’s serious enough to have a sibling-only dinner though? Isn’t it?” My hand leaves her jaw and trails down her neck to trace her collarbone. “Why keep everyone else out?”

“Maybe I want to introduce them to someone,” she snaps waspishly. Corinna has never dealt well with being backed into a corner.

“Princess, the only man you’re ever going to introduce them to like that is me. And it’s high time we both stop playing games and admit it.” I wait for her reaction to my admission of the attraction that’s always simmered between us. The attraction that even her sisters have recently slammed in my face.

It’s not the one I expect.

Corinna stomps over to the back door and flings it open. I’m surprised the crash doesn’t shatter the glass. “After everything you did to me? After everything you said? Do you really think…of course you do! All you fucking men think you need to do is snap your fingers and any woman will drop their panties at your feet. Guess what—not this woman. Not anymore. Now get the fuck out of my kitchen before I tell the rest of the family what actually happened all those years ago to make me hate you as much as I do.”

I’m frozen in shock. Of all the things I expected, this was the very last on the list.

“Now!” she screams.

Woodenly, I move toward her. Her face is turned away. “Corinna,” I whisper imploringly.

“I am not kidding in the slightest. Get. Out.”

“Damnit. I have to know what I saw. Something’s wrong and you’re not—” I demand, even as I begin to cross the threshold.

“It doesn’t matter what you saw. It sure shouldn’t matter to a man who never gave a damn about me,” she spits at me.

Right before she slams the door in my face.

Standing outside the glass-paned door, I get my own anger under control. Suddenly, I hear a loud crash from inside the kitchen. I start to head back in, but I realize she’ll never open up to me right now.

She’s drowning in the pain she’s in. If she won’t let someone in to pull her from the water, I’ll dive in headfirst to save her.

Tomorrow, there’s no escaping me, Corinna.

I back slowly away so I don’t alert her to my presence. Tomorrow’s soon enough to have it out.

As for what she said, not give a damn about her? What a crock of shit.