It's nearly three A.M. when I manage to drag myself from Kit's apartment. Leaving is for the best—if my tongue gets tied into any more knots, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to use it again.

True to his word, he walks me from his building to my car. The first few blocks are nice, gentrified, then we get into the sketchy part of downtown. I hang closer to him as we pass Skid Row.

He slides his arm around my waist and pulls me across the street. "Should have warned me you parked in a shit area. I would have driven you to your car."

"Don't you drive a motorcycle?"

He cocks a brow. "And?"

"Would that really be safer?" I'm not sure why I'm talking myself out of the chance to wrap my arms around Kit and hold on tightly, but the point stands.

"Yeah." His deep voice gets serious, protective. "I don't want anything happening to you."

"Yeah, you wouldn't want that strike against you."

"No, Piper. You're a good kid, and we're friends. I don't want anything happening to you."

"Oh, yeah. Right." My eyes get stuck on his. I can't help it. His brown eyes are beautiful. But this really isn't the place to stop to chat. I force myself to move forward.

It is starting to feel like Kit's my friend. Not my best friend but certainly more than that famous rock star I know. Certainly more than my older brother's hot, slutty friend.

I soak in the warmth of his body for the rest of the walk. Okay, I still have a crush on him. I can't help it. He's beautiful and troubled and protective—that annoys me on everyone else, but it's not so bad on him—and I just know that deep down, he's sweet and caring too.

I dig my keys from my purse and unlock the car. "You want a ride back to your place?"

He gives me a long, slow once over. His eyes linger on my hips and chest then they're on mine. "I'll be okay."

"You sure?"

"Positive." He leans in to wrap his arms around me.

My chest presses against his. My fingers dig into his leather jacket. He smells good and this is the closest we've ever been.

For a second, my eyes close, and I imagine kissing him again. God, I want to kiss him again.

He steps back. "Drive safe, Piper."

"Thanks." I slide into my car. My hands are shaking so much it's hard to turn the thing on, but I manage. I cringe as my stereo turns on—it's blasting Britney Spears.

Kit smiles. "Nice tunes."

"I try. I guess I'll see you around."

He nods.

I pull onto the street and navigate onto the freeway. Long after Kit is a blip in my rearview mirror, he's glued to my brain.

* * *

Thankfully, Mal and Ethan's cars are nowhere to be seen. I'm not sure if they're at regular parties or special celebrity parties. I'm still not quite used to my brothers being famous rock stars. It's weird getting stopped on the way to the gym. It's weirder when fans look at me with envy, like they think Mal or Ethan is going home with me. Which, I guess is technically true. Mal and Ethan have more than enough money to move out of our parents' place, but they insist on staying so I don't get lonely.

Not that it makes much of a difference. They're on the road two-thirds of the year.

The house feels empty when they're away. But I can't get caught up in that yet. I have another day before I'm stuck all alone for another two months.

I try to shake off the thought as I change out of my dress and into my pajamas, but it won't go. I'm already dreading waking up to a quiet house.

By the time I finish washing my face and brushing my teeth, I've managed to push it aside.

I'm ready for bed.

Okay, ready to stroke myself to orgasm thinking about Kit, but that's really all the same. It's going to happen in my bed.

God, I might as well write virgin on my forehead. I'm not usually embarrassed about my lack of experience, but the way Kit looked at me like it sealed my fate as a nice girl who doesn't have any fun...

I grab my cell and plug it into my charger. The phone flashes. I have a text from Kit.

Kit: Let me know you got home okay.

He's checking on me. That's sweet in a I care about my friend's little sister like a sister kind of way. Really, it's sweet, but I don't need an extra brother. Two is plenty.

Piper: You don't have to do this.

Kit: I don't do anything I don't want to do.

Piper: You don't have to check on me or text me to secure my loyalty. I keep secrets. I won't tell anyone you were at that party.

Kit: I don't do things I don't want to do.

Piper: Ever?

Kit: It's happened before, but it's been a while.

Piper: So you want to be texting me?

Kit: Yes.

Piper: Prove it by texting again tomorrow.

It's a bold ask. I should wish him goodnight and leave him alone. But I like Kit. Not just as a crush. Tonight was fun. Talking to him is fun.

I want to keep it up.

But he's not responding.

I stare at my phone, waiting for a response. My palms sweat. My breath catches. This is taking forever.

A few minutes, forever, same difference.

Kit: I will.

My whole body gets warm and light. I really hope he means it.

Kit: Did you get home okay?

Piper: Smooth sailing, almost no one on the road. I'm in bed, in my pajamas.

Kit: Go to sleep. It's late.

Piper: Then you go to sleep.

Kit: I'm in bed.

Piper: In your pajamas?

Kit: I don't own pajamas.

Piper: Really?

Kit: Technically, I have a few pairs I bring on the road. When I'm at home, I sleep naked.

My head fills with beautiful images of Kit naked in his bed. It means something, him telling me this. Either that he wants me thinking about him naked or that he sees our relationship as so platonic that he assumes I don't care about his state of dress.

I can't tolerate the latter.

Piper: Would it be obvious what I was up to if I asked you for pics to prove it?

Kit: It would be tacky.

Piper: Just checking.

Kit: Goodnight, Piper.

Piper: Goodnight, Kit.

* * *

I wake up to Mal making eggs in the kitchen. The entire house smells like coffee, good coffee. I get through my morning routine as quickly as possible so I can join my oldest brother downstairs.

He pours me a cup of coffee and passes over the half and half and sugar.

"Thanks." I hug him good morning. It gives me that warm, comfortable feeling. I know I can trust Mal with anything. He can occasionally be over-bearing, but he's still my family, and I still feel like I'm where I belong when I'm with him and Ethan. "Good party?"

"Wasn't exactly a party." His smile screams it was a woman, naked, under me. "I only got in an hour ago."

Details I don't need. Ick. "Where's Ethan?"

Mal chuckles. "He texted. He's busy all morning. You know Ethan—"

"Still trying to screw his way to forgetting Violet?"

Mal nods. He looks at his phone with a frown. "Mom and Dad were supposed to call at noon." His eyes turn down.

He doesn't have to fill in the sentence. But they've canceled.

Big surprise.

He pushes his phone away. The gesture is forceful. It's not like him. Mal is usually good at hiding his frustration.

He folds his arms, his eyes filling with anger. He looks at me, taking in my expression. "I can't believe they did this again."

"I gave up on them a long time ago."

This doesn't soothe Mal. If anything, his eyes fill with more frustration. I don't know why he still has faith in our parents. It must be something I don't remember. He is seven years older than I am.

I don't want to talk about them, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't either.

I add plenty of half-and-half and sugar to my coffee then I take a sip to test it. God, that's good. It's still early and I couldn't sleep last night. I couldn't stop thinking about Kit naked in that bathroom, on his couch, in my bedroom...

Mal refills his cup of green tea. He gave up coffee years ago— bad for the vocal chords.

He looks at me with a protective expression. "How was Rory's place?"

I take another sip to buy myself enough time to recall my cover story. I told Mal I was going to my best friend Rory's place to watch the ball drop. And I really was planning on doing that, but she invited her new boyfriend over last minute, and I didn't want to watch them make out all night. She's usually a great friend but she's currently in just got a new boyfriend, he is all I care about mode.

"Piper?"

"Okay. She invited her boyfriend over and he's kind of annoying, but it was fun."

"Just fun?"

"Yeah, well, it was my first threesome but I think I got the hang of it."

Mal teases back. "How did the boyfriend handle it? Did he take you one at a time or did one of you sit on his face while he fucked the other?"

My cheeks flush.

Mal chuckles. His eyes flare with victory. Don't tease me if you can't handle me teasing back.

"How did you pull that out so quickly?" I clear my throat. "Do you have threesomes?"

"You really want to know?"

"No, but you won't tell me."

"Fair point." He turns back to the stove, scoops the eggs onto plates, and passes one to me. "I'm leaving first thing tomorrow."

"I know."

"You gonna be okay alone?"

"I always am."

"School's about to start. Are you registered for classes?"

I nod.

"What are you taking?"

"We've been over this twenty times." For a guy who never went to college, Mal is really concerned with my class schedule. I'd rather not talk about it. College isn't clicking with me. I'm not good at taking tests and getting through my required reading is like pulling teeth. I'm slow and I barely retain anything.

"Remind me." He waits until I'm done with the sriracha to pour hot sauce onto his eggs. "Piper, this is important. School comes first."

"I know."

"Something you're worried about?"

"No." More like everything. Mal and Ethan have wanted to make music since forever. And they've been good at it for nearly as long. I've never wanted anything that much. I've certainly never been that good at anything. The only time I've ever been excited about school was when I got the lead in Romeo and Juliet junior year. Or when I got the lead in Our Town senior year. "I'm looking forward to my drama class." It's the only class I'm looking forward to.

I still have a burning desire to act. This class needs to fill it. I don't have room in my schedule for any more electives and majoring in drama is out of the question.

I'm studying something practical. A good, stable job isn't romantic or exciting, but neither is relying on people who can abandon me at the drop of a hat.

Mal and Ethan wouldn't do that, but my parents are the ones who pay for the house, who pay for school. As long as they pay, I have to pretend like it's okay they're never around. Ethan or Mal could help out. They do well. But I don't want to take away their chance to finally put themselves first.

I take another sip of coffee to wipe away the hurt forming in my chest. It doesn't work.

Mal is looking at me. "You look like you want to talk about something."

I shake my head. I absolutely do not want to talk about this. Any of it. "Just stressed about school. Last semester was hard and it was only 101 classes."

He nods. "Which advanced classes are you taking?"

"Drama and American History. Literature and bio are 101 classes."

There's something in his deep blue eyes—they're a slightly deeper, cooler shade than mine—but I'm not sure what to make of it.

"It's a normal schedule, but normal is hard."

"You'll do great, Piper. You're smart and you always put in the work." He takes a bite of his eggs. His eyes go back to mine. "I want to get this conversation out of the way, so we can head to the mall and blow the cash Mom and Dad sent on something fun."

"You have plenty of money."

"But this is from them." He smiles over the thought of wasting the money Mom and Dad sent as our Christmas presents. "You need anything when I'm out, you call. Any time, I don't care how late. I'll keep my phone close."

"I'll be fine."

"I'll pick up, anytime. But if I don't, you call Ethan."

"I know."

"And he'll pick up, but if he doesn't, you have Joel and Kit's numbers."

"I have everyone in the crew's numbers."

"Call me first. Even if you think I'll be pissed. Your safety always comes first."

"I'll be—"

"Promise and we'll be done with this conversation." His expression gets stern, paternal.

"Okay, I promise."

"Good." He takes his last bite of breakfast then shifts his plate away. "I'm going to change and shower. We'll hit the mall in thirty."

"Is that a question or a statement?"

He smiles. "Don't be late."

* * *

Mal and I spend the entire afternoon doing nothing of consequence. We get coffee, we buy new clothes, we get lunch, we watch an action movie at the theater down the street.

Come dinner time, Ethan meets us at home with bags of Vietnamese takeout. I know he's mocking my tendency to order pho at every possible opportunity, but I don't care.

The three of us share a great meal. We talk, we gossip, we make plans for biweekly calls and daily texts during the first leg of the tour.

Around ten, we say our goodbyes and my brothers head to their rooms. They have to leave for Vegas at the crack of dawn.

I hang out on the couch in our massive living room, debating what TV show I should binge watch. I watch a lot of TV, too much probably. Already, I can feel loneliness creeping into the big, quiet room. When I wake up, my brothers will be gone, and I'll be alone. For a solid two months straight, I'll be alone. I'll be the one doing all the shopping and cleaning. I'll be the one taking care of everything—dentist appointments, oil changes, calling repairmen when the dishwasher breaks down.

I want to stand on my own two feet, but it's hard and it's tiring.

Mostly, it's lonely.

The TV is my best company but it's not the same. Not at all.

I settle on Gilmore Girls and I get my phone out to text my friend Rory about Rory Gilmore's exploits. My Rory claims she has no interest in the youngest Gilmore girl, but she always texts back asking for more details.

Fuck talking to Rory.

I have a text from Kit. This is a hell of a lot more interesting then relaying any TV show.

Kit: I'm proving it.

Piper: What?

Kit: That I want to text you.

Piper: So you are. But maybe you're only texting to prove it. This doesn't mean you want to. Or that you'll do it again tomorrow.

Kit: You a lawyer in training?

Piper: No.

Kit: You sure?

Piper: I'm only a college freshman, but I'm pretty sure I won't end up in law school.

Kit: Why not?

Piper: Why?

Kit: Fair enough. Do you know?

Piper: Huh?

Kit: What you'll end up doing.

Piper: Not yet.

Kit: You have time.

Piper: If you say so.

Kit: I remember being nineteen. Felt like I couldn't grow up and have my own life fast enough.

Piper: Yes, you're jaded now that you're an old man at 26.

Kit: It's a lot older than 19.

Piper: It's seven years older than 19.

Kit: That's almost half your life.

Piper: What's it like, knowing everything? Does it get exhausting?

When he doesn't reply immediately, I cringe. Was that too harsh? Kit seemed up for teasing yesterday, but that might have been a one time thing.

He might not actually want a friendship with me.

I refill my water to force myself to step away from my phone.

My heartbeat picks up as I pick it back up.

Kit: I should ask you. Is it a burden?

My lips curl into a smile. He's teasing back.

It's strange. I've known Kit for three years now. He's always been cordial, but we haven't had much in the way of meaningful one-on-one interaction. He never struck me as the playful, teasing type.

He's more intense and secretive.

And troubled.

Kit: You should enjoy being a kid. It doesn't last long.

Piper: You're a rock star.

Kit: Did you just figure that out?

Piper: Isn't that a perpetual adolescence?

Kit: You've got two brothers in my band. You should know.

Piper: Mal's never been a kid.

Kit: And Ethan?

Piper: Ethan will be a kid until the day he dies. They aren't good test cases.

Kit: You should rethink that lawyer thing.

Piper: I'll take that into advisement.

Kit: School starting up soon?

Piper: Yeah. You know, you don't have to text me if you don't want to.

Kit: I know.

Piper: Okay. Just... no pressure.

Kit: I'm aware.

Piper: So, what, you got bored of doing groupies and now you're texting me?

Kit: Got bored while doing a groupie. Doing her right now. She says hi.

Piper: Really?

Kit: Of course not.

Piper: I knew that.

Kit: Uh-huh.

Piper: Do you do that a lot?

Kit: Groupies?

Piper: Yeah.

Kit: I did.

Piper: And now?

Kit: Last night was the first time in a while.

Piper: And?

Kit: You're a nice girl. I'm not discussing this with you.

Piper: Shouldn't my constant inquires prove I'm not a nice girl?

Kit: You'd think, but that's not how the rules work. You looking forward to Spring semester?

Piper: You sound like Mal.

Kit: Now that hurts.

Piper: You do.

Kit: Are you excited about school?

Piper: It's school.

Kit: Give me the real answer.

Piper: Why?

Kit: Why not?

It's a fair response. It's playful but it's probing too. Like he really does want to be friends.

Like he really is interested in a relationship with me.

A platonic one, sure, but that's still a relationship.

It's hard to believe.

Piper: Do you really want to know?

Kit: That's why I asked.

Piper: But why do you care?

Kit: We're friends.

Piper: We're friends?

Kit: Unless that's a problem.

Piper: No. We're friends. But if I'm sharing my feelings about school then you should share your feelings about something.

Kit: Sounds fair.

Piper: I'm not really excited. I have friends at school. And I'm looking forward to my drama class. Otherwise, it's a drag. I'm not good at studying. I hate tests. I like to read but I don't like the kinds of books we read in English.

Kit: You act?

Piper: I have.

Kit: You any good?

Piper: I got lead in the school play twice.

Kit: Nice.

Piper: It's just a school play.

Kit: Orange County parents are crazy. I bet a lot of kids at your school had years of drama classes. It's an accomplishment.

Piper: I guess.

Kit: Say it.

Piper: You're not the boss of me.

Kit: Fine. I'll say it. Piper, that's a hell of a fucking accomplishment. You should be proud.

Piper: Thank you.

Kit: If you asked, Mal could pull strings to get you real gigs.

Piper: He could, but he wouldn't do anything that puts me in the "Hollywood party scene." It's not a place for nice girls.

Kit: It's not.

Piper: Why do I know all these uptight rock stars? You're supposed to want to corrupt me.

Kit: You're my friend's baby sister.

Piper: Exactly. It's hot because it's wrong.

Kit: Friends don't want to corrupt friends.

Piper: I guess I buy that. It's your turn now.

Kit: My turn?

Piper: To share your feelings about something.

Kit: You sound like a terrible group therapist.

Piper: I'll strike therapist off my "possible careers."

Kit: I'm sure you could improve with training.

Piper: I don't see it.

Kit: Me either.

Piper: It's still your turn.

Kit: Ask me something and I'll answer.

Piper: Are you excited about the tour?

Kit: Yes.

Piper: Those aren't feelings.

Kit: Damn, thought I'd slip that one by you.

Piper: You should try harder next time.

Kit: I get nervous before shows, but once I'm on stage, I fall into this flow. It's where I belong. I'm excited about that. But the twelve hours a day on a bus with the same few people and the shitty hotel rooms are a drag.

Piper: You have stage fright?

Kit: Yeah.

Piper: I never noticed.

Kit: Didn't have it when I was using.

Piper: That must be hard, knowing you can fix something that messes with you every other night.

Kit: It can be.

Piper: Does being on the road make it harder to stay clean?

Kit: In some ways. In others it's easier.

Piper: Like...?

Kit: If this is a game, it's my turn.

Piper: Okay, go for it.

Kit: You could mooch off your brothers if you wanted. A lot of celebrity's siblings do that. You ever consider it?

Piper: Never. I'm getting my own place as soon as I can afford it.

Kit: What's stopping you?

Piper: Rent around here is more than I made at my old job, at this little cafe. I had to quit last semester. My grades were slipping. I couldn't juggle both.

Kit: School should come first.

Piper: Says the what— high school graduate?

Kit: College dropout.

Piper: Says the college drop out rock star?

Kit: You want to wait tables your whole life?

Piper: No.

Kit: I quit to play bass. I knew that was what I wanted to do.

Piper: Your parents must have been furious.

Kit: You'd be surprised.

Actually, I wouldn't. Our parents bailed days after Mal turned eighteen. They're home a few weeks a year. They send cards and money at birthdays and Christmas. They call once a month.

That's the full extent of their parenting skills.

They aren't technically deadbeats. They have big, important jobs as research scientists. They're off doing fieldwork, not getting high.

But what's the difference? Either way, they aren't here. They don't show an interest in us.

I'm stuck in angry thoughts of mom and dad when my phone buzzes with a call from Rory. I haven't texted her about Gilmore Girls yet. She must have gossip to share about her boyfriend.

Shit. I missed the call.

A text from her flares on my phone. Something about an emergency.

The selfish part of me hopes her boyfriend ended things— Carter is a burn out and he hogs Rory's time—but I push that aside. She's my friend and I want her to be happy.

Even if it means I'm losing time with my oldest friend.

I better say goodbye to Kit.

Piper: I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow?

Kit: Yeah.

Piper: You gonna text me every day?

Kit: Depends what I feel like doing?

Piper: What a stereotypical, non-committal man.

Kit: Every day it is.

I smile ear to ear. Kit is texting me every day. He really is my friend. And I could swear he's even flirting a little.

I take a moment to soak in the feeling of chatting with him then I call Rory. Sure enough, she's having boyfriend issues. Usually, I get jealous of how Rory's boyfriend stole her away from me.

But not right now.

Right now, I'm thinking about Kit's gorgeous dark eyes and his curly black hair and the way his smile lights up his entire face.