She probably thought I was drunk, not dying. I was the boy who’d cried wolf. Or, you know, tequila.

I braced on the edges of her window and continued. “And I remembered that Juliet told Romeo not to swear by the moon. Do you know why she did that, Luna? Do you know? Because I do.”

We’d studied the book last year in English Lit. That Shakespeare dude was majorly depressing. I studied Moonshine’s horrified face as it morphed from pity to anger in the span of a heartbeat.

“She told him not to swear by the moon because the moon changes, Luna!”

No answer.

“You changed on me, even though we were in this together. You never, ever let me have a say. I stayed the same, and you just…you just changed!”

She stood there staring, like I was a fucking off-Broadway show. Mildly interested. Mostly terrified. Definitely waiting for the punch line.

“Let me in,” I croaked, ignoring the shivers coursing through my body.

She shook her head at that. Sadistically, almost.

“No, huh?”

I made myself comfortable, parking my ass on her roof and fishing in my sweatpants pocket for my joint and a light. Might as well. She wasn’t going to back down, and I sure as hell wasn’t going back home before I knew she was okay.

“Give me one good reason.” She crossed her arms over her chest. It was the first time I noticed what she was wearing. Or lack thereof. Holy fuck. A tiny, orange nightgown, the hem made of lace. An actual piece of lingerie. Who’d given it to her? Who did she wear it for?

None of your goddamn business.

“What’s with the nightgown?” I asked around my joint, lighting it up. My tone was notably more cheerful. Flu and fever be damned, my cock already felt better. I would give up national security secrets for the opportunity to see the outline of Luna’s nipple. Seeing her half-naked felt like all my birthdays crammed into one.

“Daria gave it to me for Christmas.”

I made a mental note to make a voodoo doll of my blonde neighbor and punch it in the tits. I puffed on my joint and stared at the sky, thinking about what to say next.

“Knight, what are you doing here?”

“I heard about Val.” I exhaled in a thick cloud of smoke.

“I’m fine,” she said.

I remembered how she felt about the damn word, but couldn’t help but agree with her—she didn’t seem upset. But maybe Val was just an excuse. Maybe I just couldn’t stay away.

I cocked my head. “Open the window.”

“Does your girlfriend know you’re paying me a late-night visit?”

“Does yours?” I blurted, exhibiting my fine, toddler-aged maturity.

I hadn’t even seen Poppy since New Year’s Eve. She was still sulking about the tantrum I’d pulled at the party because of Luna and Daria. When I’d told her I was sorry it couldn’t work out between us, she’d said she just needed time to get over it. That we were not over. Chick was more persistent than an STD. Not that I was comparing. Some STDs were treatable. Point was, she had plenty of girlfriends and a sister who made Lucifer look like a Care Bear. Couldn’t one of them convince her I was a bad idea? Even I knew my boyfriend game was trash.

“Wow. You’re a piece of work.”

“A piece of work who worked his entire life protecting your ass.” I smirked around my joint. “Open up.”

She closed the curtains. Apparently, tough love wasn’t the way into New Luna’s heart. You live, you learn.

“Moonshine.” Just to be an ass, I tossed the joint toward the Spencers’ artificial pond across the lot before banging my fist on the window again. “Please.”

“Why?” Came her muffled voice from behind the curtains.

“Because you need me right now.”

She let out a yelp that was supposed to be a laugh.

“Fine. Because I need you.”

She didn’t say anything to that. Interesting. Was this the angle I’d been looking for? I elaborated quickly.

“I have the flu. And I don’t have a shirt. And I’m living with the Spencers. Doctor’s orders because of Mom…”

She pulled the curtains and cracked the window open, taking a sidestep to let me in. I slid into her room, inspecting it first, wary that it had changed somehow, just like she had. I let out a sigh of relief when I found everything in the same place. Even our pictures. That was the first thing I looked for.

“Jesus Christ, Knight, you’re shaking. Why are you shirtless?” She snapped out of her anger and finally got the picture. Luna put her tiny, warm hand on my chest. I shivered against it. I looked down. My skin was full of goosebumps, and even I had to admit, I was on the corpse-looking side.

“Look at me,” she gasped, taking my face in her hands. “Knight, you are completely blue. It’s freezing outside.”

I tried to laugh it off. “It’s SoCal, Moonshine. I think I’m fine.”

“I’m running you a hot bath.”

“Your dad will know I’m here.”

“Who cares!” she boomed. “Take off your watch.”

I set my watch on the nightstand as Luna dashed out of her room, leaving me to stand there and process the fact that going outside shirtless in January, in the middle of the night, in the desert, with a serious case of the flu and a fever wasn’t one of my finest life decisions. She came back ten minutes later, with a huge towel draped over her forearm, and dragged me down the hallway.