We spend the entire day together. Walker leads me through cooking bacon and eggs. It's easy. Easy enough I promise to make lunch.

He talks me into a Star Wars marathon. One including the prequels. But it's actually fun mocking their bad dialogue and ridiculous excess of world building. It feels like it used to—like Star Wars is something I love. Like movies and books and TV are capable of capturing every bit of my attention.

Like there are all sorts of things in the world capable of capturing my attention.

I set off the fire alarm when I attempt to pan fry chicken while sautéing frozen broccoli. Multi-tasking in the kitchen is still beyond my skill set.

We dress, get lunch, spend the day walking around Santa Monica and drinking ridiculous amounts of coffee. It's a beautiful blue day. Warm. Sunny. Bright.

The entire world feels bright.

It's like that all week.

Studying is easier. Classes are more interesting. My research project falls together. I look forward to my yoga sessions. And my attempt at healthier meals. And texting Walker all night.

When he invites me to a party at the shop—and promises to make me come after—I say yes instantly.

Even when he insists he's teaching me to surf the next day at eight a.m.

Eight a.m. on a Sunday.

Ridiculous.

But worth it.

He might actually be worth it.

* * *

The shops bell rings.

Someone yells, "Surprise."

Then everyone is yelling it together. I'm yelling it. Even though I think surprise parties are a truly terrible idea.

All the lights flick on at once.

Ryan holds his arm over his eyes like he's a vampire protecting himself from the rays of the sun.

Dean laughs. "Happy twenty-seventh." He hands Ryan a black balloon. There are black balloons and lilies everywhere.

It's funny. But ridiculous and premature. Since when is twenty-seven old?

Walker slides his arms around my waist. He pulls my body into his. Brushes his lips against my neck.

My thoughts dissolve.

"Happy Birthday." The cute blond in a pastel cardigan hands Ryan a small present wrapped in blue paper with a turquoise bow. "I hope you like it."

"Thanks, Kay." He takes the present. Looks at her like he's not sure if he should hug her or shake hands or nod. He offers his hand.

They shake.

Relief spreads over his face as he pulls his arm to his side. This guy is not into affection.

Dean nods to a massive present sitting on the counter behind us.

Ryan nods thanks.

Dean shakes his head you aren't getting away that easy. He pulls his brother into a hug.

Distaste spreads over Ryan's face. He steps back with a sigh. "We have drinks?"

"Please." Dean motions to said counter. There's a row of top shelf stuff next to the present.

Ryan moves toward sweet, sweet intoxication, but Brendon cuts him off.

He's merciful. He doesn't hug Ryan. He simply shakes his head and hands over a present.

The girl with the purple-grey hair takes her turn. She does hug Ryan, but he actually seems okay with it.

Then a girl with dark hair that fades into crimson ends bounces forward. She throws her arms around Ryan. "Happy birthday." She pulls back with a smile.

"That's Emma." Walker motions to Brendon. "His sister." Then he motions to the cute blond. "Kaylee's best friend."

I try to shove the names into the important things section of my brain. I know he's told me some of this before. But Walker has this way of making me forget everything.

Like being at a party with a fresh bottle of Belvedere.

My tongue slides over my lips.

My nerves pick up. The same as my coffee fix, but duller. Need. Drink. Now. Need. Thoughts. Gone.

Walker brings his lips to my ear. "You want a drink?"

Yes. A double. Triple. Hell, bring the bottle. A few shots and I'll be dancing on the counter. I'll be happy. Free. Void of any concerns except fun.

"No, thank you." The words feel like a lie. But they aren't. A part of me still wants that drink, but most of me is thinking about waking up in Ross's bed with memories of the last night a blur. Combining drinking with opiates… bad idea. Good way to OD. I knew better.

I know better.

My first few weeks out of rehab were tough, but since I found my footing, I haven't really been tempted. I'll have a passing urge here and there. But I never want a buzz or a high enough to actually consider using. The bad memories outweigh the bliss.

He releases his grip on my waist. "You don't drink?"

"I don't like the person I am when I drink."

He nods. "I'll skip it."

"You don't have to."

"I don't mind." He slides his hand over my ass. "You're more intoxicating."

"That's cheesy."

"What if I drag you to the back room and fuck you against the wall."

Yes. Great idea. My breath catches in my throat. "You should."

"You think I won't?" His eyes fill with determination. "Say the word, sweetness."

I shake my head. He will do it. And part of me wants him to. But the rest of me is too shy to even consider it.

"Too bad. Would have been fun." He takes my hand and leads me around the room, re-introducing me to everyone.

Ryan forces a smile.

Brendon is nothing like he was on the hike. There isn't a single sign of annoyance on his face. He has his arms around Kaylee and he's happy as a clam.

She is too.

They're like a poster for a teen drama. The cute innocent blond and the tattooed bad boy. How will it play out? Tune in tomorrow at ten.

They're clearly the endgame couple.

Leighton—the girl with the purple-grey hair—smiles like she can't believe how relieved she is to see me. "It's always such a sausage fest here. Nice to have another face."

Dean steps in. He shakes his head, sending his wavy hair in every direction. His blue eyes fix on hers. "Please. You love being surrounded by dick."

"Not like this." She winks at him. "Stop reading my journal."

"It's too hot. I can't," he teases back.

"Uh-huh." She shakes her head isn't he ridiculous?

I nod. He's a lot of things. Ridiculous is pretty high up the list.

I turn back to Walker. "Go. Talk to your friend. I'm fine."

He arches a brow. "You sure?"

"Yeah. It's his birthday. Tease him about getting old. And—what did you get him?" I ask.

Walker's smile spreads over his cheeks. "Dean and I went in on that together."

"What is it?" I ask.

Dean laughs.

Walker too.

They share a look—the kind of look I used to share with Lily. That best friends we're the only people who get each other thing.

"Oh please." Leighton shakes her head. "You were talking about it forever." She moves closer to me. Leans in to whisper. "They got him a blow-up doll."

I look to my definitely not a boyfriend. "Why?"

"Hey, if he's not gonna move on to a woman, why not try this substitute?" Dean offers.

"It's cheaper than you'd think," Walker says.

"And my boy tested the equipment." Dean winks at me. "Hope you aren't jealous."

"You… you didn't, right?" I'm pretty sure he's teasing. Because giving someone a used blow up doll… and Walker wouldn't. Right?

"Yeah. Of course." Walker laughs.

Ryan joins us. He takes a long swig from his red solo cup, gives the group a long once-over, shakes his head. "Can't believe I fell for this we need to have a meeting Saturday night because it's always dead shit."

"It wasn't our finest work," Walker admits.

"Speak for yourself," Dean says.

"Yeah. Dean's proud when he can tie his shoes," Leighton says.

Dean shows off his checkered Vans. "Too difficult. I made the switch back in middle school."

Ryan takes another swig from his drink. "This is good shit."

"Only the best for my big brother." Dean blows him a kiss. It's sarcastic. And it's not. There's affection in his blue eyes.

"Yeah. Right." Ryan shakes his head. He turns to Leighton. "How'd they rope you into this?"

"I wanted to celebrate your birthday." She folds her arms. Hurt creeps into her voice. "Is that really implausible?"

"You're too smart to think I'd enjoy a surprise party," he says.

Her eyes fix on Ryan. "You do. You just don't show it."

He shakes his head no way.

"Is that the only gesture you know?" Dean teases.

Ryan flips him off.

Everyone laughs.

"I just got out of a relationship too. Well, a few months ago. Walker mentioned that you, and, uh…" This is awkward. He's just staring back at me, all intense and glum. "It sucks, huh?"

"Yeah." He nods.

"You never want to love again," I say.

Again, he nods.

"You, um, was it a long relationship?" I bite my lip. Why am I asking him so many personal questions when he clearly isn't into sharing or affection?

"Forgive Iris. She's gonna be a shrink," Walker says.

"Oh. Yeah?" Ryan raises a brow interesting. "What's that like?"

"Actually, I'm going to be a research psychologist. I'm not studying clinical psychology. You know, therapy?"

He nods. He knows. "I tried that once."

Dean's eyes go wide. "You did?"

"Yeah. Thought it might help. With forgetting Penny." He takes another sip. "But it was bullshit. Didn't go back. No offense."

"It's not for everyone." I press my lips together. "Sometimes, it takes a while to find the right person. Or get comfortable. Especially if you aren't used to sharing. Not that you're—"

"No. He is. He gets it." Dean laughs. "Good thing for you Walker has a babe on his arm. You could get free help."

"You could kiss my ass," Ryan says.

Dean laughs. "A hundred bucks says you won't drop your pants."

"You're disgusting," Leighton says.

"Like you don't want to see Ryan naked." Dean shakes his head.

Her cheeks flush. "I… shut up." The blush spreads down her chest.

And she keeps looking at Ryan.

She likes him.

Maybe. I think. I'm not great at seeing the line between I like you as a friend and I want your body and I want you to be mine forever.

Dean pulls his t-shirt up his stomach. Pats his perfect six-pack. "You can look as much as you want, baby."

"Which is zero." She shakes her head. "What's with your aversion to clothes?"

"They hide my beauty." He shrugs, effortlessly coy.

Ryan looks to me. "That's a good thing you're doing. More important than this shit." He motions to the shop.

"Tattoos are therapeutic in their own way." My fingers go to the words on my forearm. "You're also doing a good thing."

"Nah, mostly he does himself as he cries into pictures of Penny," Dean teases.

Ryan shakes his head stupid kids. "Good luck with shit." He nods a round of goodbyes then turns and leaves.

I wait until he's out of earshot. "Is he always like that?"

"No." Leighton presses her plum lips together. "He's usually a lot less friendly."

"Yeah. He's practically beaming." Walker leans in to press his lips to my neck. "I'm gonna talk to him."

"Go." I lean into his touch.

He wraps his arms around me. Pulls me into a tight hug.

His lips brush mine. Soft to start. Then harder. Then he's sucking on my bottom lip, groaning into my mouth.

Every thought in my head dissolves. My eyelids flutter together. My world goes white. It's only Walker. His lips, his hands, his smile.

I really, really like him.

Want him to be my boyfriend like him.

Want him to be my boyfriend for a long, long time and maybe forever like him.

It's… Uh…

I pull back with a sigh.

His lips press into that perfect smile. He shoots Dean a playful look. "Don't entertain her too much."

"I can't help it."

Walker laughs. "Uh-huh." He turns and heads over to Ryan. He's sitting on a bench in front with Emma, Brendon, and Kaylee.

Look at me, learning names.

Woohoo.

"You like him, huh?" Dean asks.

"Oh my God. Leave her alone." Leighton presses her palms against the counter. She plops onto it and taps her heeled ankle boots together.

God, she really is cool. Like a punk rock goddess. She's wearing smooth black skinny jeans and a reconstructed Ramones t-shirt cut up and sewn together with hot pink ribbon.

"It's an innocent question." He leans against the counter next to her. Brings his cup to his lips. "You should be proud of me. I didn't demand Never Have I Ever."

"Uh-huh." She shakes her head you're ridiculous.

"Or truth or dare," he says.

She looks to me. "See what I deal with every day?"

I laugh. "It must be rough."

She does too. "It really is. But I love it here. Serious eye candy."

Dean motions aww, you shouldn't have with mock humility.

It's clear she isn't trying to pay Dean a compliment, but he is super, duper, amazingly hot. Tall. Broad. With shaggy brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a million-dollar smile.

He looks like trouble. Like the kind of guy who will get wasted with you, fuck you senseless, then leave you with nothing but memories.

"Brendon, Ryan, and Walker are super hot, yes." She ignores him. "But the clients. All the surfer boys and the local musicians get their work done here. And I don't mean local, playing at a dive bar in Burbank. I mean fucking rock stars who live in Venice." She fans herself. "Why am I not having sex again?"

"You make bad choices," Dean says.

"That hurts coming from you." She smiles. "It's true. Turns out tattoos and muscles don't always equate to boyfriend material."

"In my experience, a short haircut and a nice suit don't either," I say.

"Tattooed manwhores aren't your type?" Dean asks.

"Not usually." I press my hands into my sides. It feels weird not holding a drink. "Excuse me." I move to the bar. Grab a cup. Fill it with grapefruit juice.

God, that Belvedere looks so good.

And it isn't opened.

It would be so, so easy to chug a few shots, let my inhibitions down, bring out fun, party girl Iris.

But the chain reaction that starts…

It isn't worth it.

I move back to Dean and Leighton. They're hate-flirting over something.

And Walker is laughing with his friends. Well, Ryan isn't exactly laughing. But he looks slightly less miserable.

"You're really into him, huh?" Dean asks.

"Seriously, Dean?" Leighton shoots him a really look.

"I don't sleep with people I don't like," I say.

She laughs. "Foreign concept. You'll have to explain it to him."

"Nah. It's more than that level of like." Dean's eyes meet mine. "You're looking at him the way Brendon looks at Kay."

"Like she wants to drag him to the back room, pin him to the wall, and rip his clothes off?" Leighton takes a long sip. "Who doesn't? I'm not into your boyfriend, Iris, but he is fine."

"He's not my boyfriend." The words are quick. An impulse. But they don't feel as true as they should. "We're just having fun."

She nods even though it's clear she doesn't believe me.

"I hope that's true." Dean taps his glass with his pointer finger. "'Cause I don't want to see him turning into some more annoying version of Ryan."

"He won't." Though, given Walker's reaction to everything about his sister, it seems like he'll be miserable and evasive if this ends in flames. Which isn't exactly Ryan, but it's not far off either. "Relationships don't always end like that."

"Mostly," he says.

"You don't think anyone is forever?" I'm not sure if I do either. Not anymore.

"No. Brendon and Kay, that's forever. But most of them—" he motions to Ryan—"end like that. And I don't want to see my friend miserable."

"Is that why you get pissed about his sister coming around?" I ask.

All that joy fades from Dean's expression. His voice gets serious. "Is she?"

I… I don't know. "No."

"Good." He wipes away his frown. "She's bad news."

"Why?" I ask.

"Ask your boyfriend." He pushes away from the counter. "You seem like a cool chick, Iris. Leigh is right—"

"Do not fucking call me that," she says.

"This place can be a sausage fest. Always nice to have a cute chick around. But be careful with this 'we're having fun shit.' He's into you. If you don't want that, then don't fucking lead him on." Dean nods a goodbye then turns and leaves.

Leighton hops down from the counter. "Sorry. He's an idiot."

"No. He's right." I need to be clear about my intentions. How they've changed. I need to tell Walker I want more. To make sure he wants it too.