Mia stood on a small bridge in the middle of the Universal theme park and looked at the Hogwarts castle. Padraig stood next to her. They’d walked by it countless times today as they’d rushed from ride to ride, laughing like a couple of teenagers skipping class for some grand adventure.

“I can’t believe I’m standing here.” She had said the exact same thing six hours earlier when they’d first walked into the park’s replica of Harry Potter’s Hogsmeade.

Padraig hadn’t overplayed his love for all things Harry Potter. Something that made the incredibly kind man even more charming. It was sweet that he didn’t even attempt to hide his affection for a children’s series. “It’s incredible, isn’t it? Seeing all of it real and up close. It looks just like the movies.”

The day was winding down. The park was going to close in a few minutes and sadly, Mia was starting to feel the effects of all her reveries. The dull ache in her head that started after lunch was now a pulsing throb that was getting harder to ignore.

“My grandma read the first Harry Potter book to me so many times we lost count. I loved it more than I can say. She’d no sooner say ‘the end’ before I was begging her to read it again. She always would. She loved the story too.”

Padraig grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll admit I was one of those who came to the books via the movies, as an adult. It was my cousin Darcy’s fault. She’s about ten years younger than me. I got roped into watching her one rainy afternoon when no one else could babysit. She wanted to watch the first movie, so we did. We were halfway through the second film when Aunt Riley got home. I stayed there until it was over. Then the next day I went out and bought the books.”

“There’s just something about them, isn’t there?”

He nodded.

“After my grandmother died, they were the only things that made me still feel connected to her. Life was shit at home, and I sort of started imagining myself as Harry living with the Dursleys. I didn’t have a real Hogwarts to escape to, so whenever stuff got bad or unbearable with my mom, I locked myself in my room and read for hours.”

Padraig’s expression sobered, as it often did whenever she spoke of her mother.

She squeezed his hand and smiled. “It’s okay, Padraig. What’s that saying? That which does not kill us makes us stronger. I’m not letting my mom ruin today. It’s all been too perfect.”

“Yeah. It has. But I might have a better quote.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, intrigued. It was rare to catch Padraig in a serious moment. He smiled and joked and laughed often, so his sudden seriousness captured her attention.

“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”

Mia sucked in a deep breath as Dumbledore’s advice took on a different meaning. “Padraig…”

“I started doing a reread of the books once the plans for this trip fell into place. I came across that line and I…” He swallowed. “It just sort of hit me as something important. Something that meant more than I realized the first time I read it.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the castle and, for a moment, she could almost imagine her grandmother’s voice issuing that advice. “Turn on the light, Tilly Mint,” she would say, whenever Mia found herself trapped in the dark and scared. “Look around you. You’re safe.”

Mia faced Padraig once more…and the light switched on.

“Dumbledore was a wise man,” she said when she could finally find her voice.

“Yeah. He was.”

Padraig was still looking at her, and she felt a pull. Actually, she’d been feeling the pull for days, but she’d tried to ignore it. She was attracted to Padraig, and given the way he was looking at her now, she’d say the feeling was mutual.

Mia had spent the better part of last night tossing and turning in her hotel bed, debating the wisdom of acting on that attraction. Common sense and intelligence said no. For one thing, they were at the beginning of her dream vacation. And while Padraig insisted on playing her “forever” friend, there was still too much they didn’t know about each other.

And then, of course, there was the fact that she was dying. It would be the height of cruelty to initiate something that could only end in heartbreak if the sexual tension evolved into deeper, much more genuine feelings than the friendship strings that were already tugging too tight.

“Mia,” Padraig said.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Padraig turned to face her, studying her expression closely. He’d told her that if there was ever a time to drop all pretense, to be true, it was now. She’d taken those words to heart. So she didn’t bother to hide her desires.

“You want me to kiss you.”

“Yeah. I do. But I’m afraid we both know how this story ends. There’s no happy ending, Paddy.”

His smile grew as he cupped her cheeks. “Call me that again.”

His family’s nickname for him had fallen out without thought. “Paddy,” she whispered as he bent his head closer.

Padraig didn’t halt until their lips were nearly touching. “You’re wrong, Tilly Mint.” It was all he said before his lips took hers.

If she’d been sitting at the pub and placing a bet on how Padraig would kiss, she would have lost every penny she had.

Her sweet, gentle friend was harboring a wild side. He didn’t hold anything back as he took her mouth almost roughly. Their lips parted and his tongue touched hers, tantalizing her taste buds with the sweet soda he’d drunk earlier. Padraig gripped her cheeks firmly, using his hold to twist her head incrementally, moving her so he could deepen the kiss, claim more.

It wasn’t her first kiss, but it sure as hell felt like it.

He pulled away, the two of them gasping for breath, but his hands never left her face.

“You’re wrong,” he repeated. Before she could ask about what, he answered. “We have no idea how this story is going to end.”

She wanted to argue with him, but when she considered it, she realized he was right. They only knew one thing. She was going to die. But every single other thing was unwritten. The pen was in her hand.

“I don’t want this to end sad.”

“Then it won’t,” he said.

This time, when hope returned, it stuck.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Ready to go?”

She nodded.

The two of them walked out of the park, stopping to buy matching Thing 1 and Thing 2 shirts.

Padraig climbed into the back of the taxi after her, sliding close as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. The polite distance they’d been maintaining had vanished with the kiss. She rested her head on his shoulder as his fingers skimmed along her thigh, gently caressing her skin.

Turning slightly, she placed her hand on his chest, mimicking the same suggestive, tantalizing stroking.

Padraig placed a soft kiss on her head, and the two of them rode in complete silence, letting their hands do all the talking.

Once they returned to the hotel, they took the elevator to their floor. They’d reserved two rooms, Padraig’s across the hall from hers.

She dug her keycard from her pocket, noticing Padraig wasn’t doing the same. She smiled at his almost wolfish demeanor. Her heart raced as she struggled to recall why she thought this was a bad idea. For the life of her, every answer felt more like an excuse than a reason.

So she let it all go.

“Paddy,” she said as she opened the door. “I want—”

That was all she managed before she found herself inside the room, her back pressed up against the closed door, Padraig’s lips on hers again.

If she’d thought the kiss at the park was hot, this one was downright combustible.

His hands roamed, touching everything as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He gripped her hips, then dipped his hands beneath her shirt. She gasped, their lips parting briefly as his hands cupped and squeezed her breasts.

Mia felt the same need to explore. She tugged his T-shirt, clawing at it desperately in an attempt to take it off. Padraig stepped away from her for a split second to drag it over his head and toss it to the floor.

Her gaze drifted downwards, managing only a glimpse of his muscular and—holy shitballs—sexy chest before he was back, kissing her with more passion than she’d ever felt in her life.

Mia winced as a lightning bolt of pain struck her right between the eyes, her vision going black for a split second. Padraig didn’t notice her distress, and she was grateful. She didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want this perfect day ruined by a fucking tumor. It was already taking too much away from her. She couldn’t let it take this away too.

Padraig turned her toward the room, kissing her as he backed her up. Then he took care of her T-shirt, tossing it away before stepping back to look.

“Mia.” He whispered her name with the same reverence some people evoked the name of their god. “You’re so beautiful.”

She tried to smile, but there was no more denying this wasn’t going to end well. The throbbing pain was growing unbearable and flashing, floating lights were messing with her eyesight.

“Paddy,” she said, her voice sounding faraway through the excruciating thudding in her ears.

Her tone must have been enough, because Padraig’s entire demeanor changed. Her sexy lover vanished as the kind caretaker returned. He gently helped her lie down on the bed, covering her up with the sheet.

“Do you have something to take for the pain?”

“Bathroom,” she replied weakly. A small cry escaped as the shooting pains escalated.

She’d pushed herself too far. What had she been thinking? Getting on an airplane? Spending a day walking around in bright sunshine? Riding those roller coasters?

“Light.” She gestured toward the curtains. Fortunately, Padraig understood her request as he quickly pulled the room-darkening curtains shut, casting the room in blessed blackness.

She lay there, fighting the urge to scream when Padraig returned to her side again, this time with pills and a glass of water.

Mia lifted her head to take them, but the movement was too much, the pain so intense, a wave of nausea wafted through her.

“Fuck,” she muttered, as she dashed from the bed to the bathroom, arriving not a second too soon as her stomach emptied. She placed her forehead against the cool porcelain of the toilet.

“It’s okay.” Padraig lifted her hair and placed a cold washcloth on the back on her neck.

“Please, go away. I don’t want you to see—” Her request was cut short as she threw up again.

Padraig didn’t leave. Instead, he sank down on the edge of the bathtub, continuing to hold her hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Mia, so don’t ask.”

Her whole body hurt. She trembled and cried as she continued to wretch. Her stomach was empty, but not giving up, clamping, convulsing as the pain in her head turned white-hot.

Padraig handed her a tissue and she realized her nose was bleeding.

“God,” she gasped, hating every second of what was happening. “Please, Padraig. Leave.”

He moved from his spot on the tub, kneeling next to her. He flushed the toilet, then took the tissue from her, applying pressure.

“It’s going to be okay, Mia. We’ll ride it out. Together.”

“I’m disgusting,” she said after a few minutes. The dry heaves had stopped and her nose no longer bled, but her head still pounded.

“You’re beautiful.”

She knew he was trying to be kind, but the words merely bounced off. “This was a mistake.”

“Nope. It wasn’t. Do you want another pill?”

The last one had ended up in the toilet along with her lunch. Even so, her stomach didn’t feel steady enough for anything at the moment. “Vicious circle. Sick because of headache, but I can’t take the pill to cure the headache because I’m sick.”

“We’ll wait half an hour and try again. Come on.”

He stood, then helped her rise from the floor. Her legs were weak, so she reached for the sink for support.

Padraig took charge, lifting her and carrying her to the bedroom. It was the first time she could ever remember anyone carrying her in her entire life. Surely her grandma had carried her when she was a baby, but those memories were gone.

He placed her on the bed. “You want your pajamas on?”

It occurred to her belatedly that she was in nothing but her bra and shorts. She’d kicked off her flip-flops just before the pain hit.

“I…maybe you could just help me pull off my shorts. They feel sort of gross after a day at the amusement park.”

Padraig was all business as he unhooked her shorts and tugged them off. If her head didn’t still hurt so badly, she might have been mortified to have his first view of her nearly naked body be this one.

He drew the covers over her and she expected him to leave.

“I just need to sleep for a little while.”

“I know.” He walked to the other side of the bed and, to her surprise, he shed his own shoes and shorts before climbing under the covers next to her. “A nap will do us both some good.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Stop telling me to leave, Mia.”

She fell silent, fighting not to cry again. Poor Padraig had seen too many of her tears as it was. “I’m sorry,” she said at last, unable to shake the regret that she’d destroyed their perfect day.

“I think I’m going to have to make you a list of do’s and don’ts. Number one is going to be don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”

A sob escaped. Her head and her body and her stomach…God, every part of her hurt.

But none of her ached more than her heart.

* * *

Padraig lay in the dark room, listening to Mia’s quiet breathing as she slept. Every now and then she’d whimper, letting him know her head was still hurting.

His chest had been tight with anger ever since he’d seen her draped over the toilet, her body racked with pain. Simply knowing someone was sick, and seeing it up close and personal were two completely different things. Mia had seemed so healthy that he’d allowed himself to believe the ticking time bomb in her head wasn’t poised to explode.

He wouldn’t—couldn’t—show her how much her illness was tearing him up. So instead, he’d lay here for the last two hours in the blackness, wide awake and cursing God.

No one deserved this. No one.

Mia was a good person, a sweet woman who’d suffered enough shit in her lifetime. There was no way to explain this, to offer him some answer that would make what she was going through okay.

He wanted to hit something, tear it apart with his bare hands.

For Mia, he’d play a role, be positive and optimistic, but that didn’t mean he was fucking alright with this. Because he wasn’t.

His phone pinged. Moving slowly, he sat up then reached down to grab his cell from the back pocket of his shorts.

The text was a question from Colm.

Good day?

His brother teased him about his pilgrimage to Harry Potter World, but Padraig suspected Colm was really jealous.

He typed out his reply.

Yeah.

His one word answer pulled the trigger and Colm’s response was quick.

What’s wrong?

Suddenly the timing of Colm’s text didn’t seem so coincidental. They joked from time to time about the twin link, but he suspected they tried to laugh it off because both of them were really freaked out about it.

There had been too many times in the past when they’d both had a sense that the other was in trouble.

She got sick. Bad headache. Shouldn’t have done so much at theme park.

Padraig’s response didn’t come close to saying what he really felt.

How are you doing?

And apparently Colm knew it. He recalled Colm asking Mia for that dance, that he’d issued her some sort of warning in hopes of protecting him. Padraig hadn’t called his brother out. There hadn’t been time before they’d left for the airport.

Now…

He understood what his brother had been trying to do. How he’d hoped to save Padraig from this barrage of ugly emotions. The helplessness, the frustration and—God help him—the outright fury.

Padraig studied his brother’s text for a full minute, uncertain how to reply.

His hesitance didn’t go unnoticed.

Don’t kill anybody, Colm warned. Don’t fancy spending months in Florida, defending you in court.

Padraig couldn’t muster a grin, unable to shake his frustration, so he texted what he felt.

It’s not fair.

Now it was Colm’s turn to take his time responding. When he did, Padraig was relieved his brother hadn’t hit him with that fucking “life’s not fair” adage. If he had, Padraig would have had to interrupt the vacation to fly home and beat the shit out of his twin.

Instead, his intelligent brother found the right words.

No. It’s not fair. It’s wrong on every level. But she needs you to make it okay. So make it okay, P. Make it tolerable. Hell, make it better than tolerable. Make every minute, every second count. It’s the only way you can take something so unfair and say UP YOURS to the universe.

Up yours.

Yeah. He could do that.

The heaviness lifted.

Thanks, bro.

Colm sent him a thumbs-up emoticon, followed by, Just remember this, accompanied by the middle finger emoticon.

Padraig chuckled. He’d been itching for a fight, and Colm gave him the perfect punching bag.

Placing his phone on the nightstand, he rose and walked to the bathroom. Grabbing Mia’s pain medicine and some water, Padraig returned to the bed.

She stirred when he sat down next to her, her eyes opening slowly.

“Head still hurt?” he asked quietly.

She nodded.

“Here.” He lifted her head gently, helping her take the pills.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

He bent down to place a kiss on her forehead. “Because you’re easy to be nice to.”

“That’s not an answer. I was basically a stranger a few weeks ago.”

Things had gotten too heavy since their return to the hotel room. Padraig didn’t know how to answer so he reverted to humor, desperate to see her smile like she had when they rode on the Hogwarts Express.

He gave her a playful wink. “At first, it had a lot to do with karma. Mine’s probably on shaky ground. Drink too much, gossip as much as my Pop Pop, cuss and gamble more than I should.”

Mia picked up on the joke instantly, her sleepy grin emerging. “Oh, I see. So, helping the dying girl buys you good karma.”

“Tons of it. Figure I can place wagers on every Super Bowl from here on out and embellish every sentence with as many ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ as I want and I’ll be in good standing.”

“Glad to be able to help you out.” Then something occurred to her as she added, “You said ‘at first’. What’s your reason for helping me now?”

Padraig gave her a quick, hard kiss on her smiling lips. “I want to get in your pants.”

She barked out a loud laugh that obviously cost her, since she winced. “Don’t make me laugh. My head hurts too bad.”

“Sorry, Tilly Mint. I’ll save my teasing for another time then.”

She grasped his hand and lifted it to her lips, placing a sweet kiss on his knuckles. “Whatever your reason, I’m glad you’re here.”

“There’s no place on earth I’d rather be, Mia. Not a single one.”

Her eyes began to drift closed. “Paddy,” she said, even as she rolled away from him, sleep claiming her fast.

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m going to fall in love with you.”

She was asleep the second she finished speaking so she didn’t see his face.

She missed the impact her words had on him.

Padraig’s smile grew so big the stretch almost hurt his cheeks.

And his heart.

Jesus, what she’d done to his heart.

“I’m going to fall in love with you too,” he whispered to the still room. Then he glanced across the room, flashing his middle finger toward the window and the universe beyond.

“Up yours.”