Nick leaves for work around seven. He arranges a house call. I wait dutifully in front of the TV, all of my attention on Nick's past and none of it on the screen.

He's suffered deeply. Maybe he doesn't have to hurt that much anymore.

I don't know what it means to be more than casual. I've never been serious with anyone, never been in love. But there's something about Nick. Every molecule in my body wants to be around him, wants him to be happy.

The doctor arrives around ten. He checks my vitals, asks me to perform all sorts of exercises, and writes a prescription for more physical therapy.

There's a change of clothes for me in the bedroom. Jeans, a sweater, flat boots, wool socks. I have no clue how Nick got these here so fast. Or when. But they're perfect.

I have plans to meet Kat for lunch-break dress shopping. I change into my new outfit and hightail it to the pastel pink boutique.

I'm ten minutes early, so I sit on one of the benches and pore over Kat's list of sample dresses on my phone. Only two are decent. The rest are totally wrong for her.

"That is one serious hickey." Kat slides her arm around me in a sideways hug then turns to face me. "And those don't look like work clothes."

"You know you're supposed to buy a wedding dress six months before the day. You're going to have to buy something off the rack."

"I'll manage." She moves my hair to inspect my neck. "I can't remember the last time you had a hickey. Had to be Robert. Whatever happened to him?"

"We broke up after the accident."

"Oh yeah. What a jerk." She slides her purse off her shoulders to take off her coat. "You want to get coffee before we start looking?"

"I always want to get coffee, but we'll stain the dresses." I push myself to my feet and find the sales counter.

"You want to tell me how you got that love mark?"

"A man used his mouth to apply pressure to my neck. I'm sure you and Blake have tried it, but if not, I can explain the process step by step."

The salesgirl waves at us, clearly taking her dear time making her way to the counter. Kat's eyes are laser-focused on me like I need protection.

"Elizabeth Marie Wilder." Kat taps her toe. "You have something to fess up. I can tell."

Mercifully, the salesgirl steps up to the counter.

"We're here for a one o'clock appointment. She wants something with sleeves, lots of lace, no train. Mermaid, a-line, or sheath. It's a garden wedding, so simple." I turn back to Kat with a smile. "I had sex last night. Do you want any additional information?"

The salesgirl does nothing to hide her eavesdropping. "Right this way, Miss Wilder." She looks at me. "Are you the maid of honor?"

"Yes." I follow her to the left side of the store.

"We have a great selection of bridesmaid dresses in the back of the store." She points to a rack of dresses in every color of the rainbow then to the rack of dresses in every shade of ivory. "These are a great independent label. There are more designers as you go clockwise." She hands Kat a dozen clothespins. "If you see any dresses you want to try on, mark them and I'll start a room for you."

"Thank you." Kat waits until the salesgirl leaves then turns back to me. "With whom did you have sex?"

"Some guy at a club."

"What was his name?" She examines a chiffon ball gown.

I point her to a more subdued dress—an ivory lace sheath. "I didn't ask for his name."

Kat feels the fabric, deems it unacceptable, and moves to the next rack. "And what did he look like?"

Out of all the dresses, only one fits her style. I point to it. "It was dark."

Kat turns to me with folded arms. "What about his body? Not something you could miss during some crazy hot sex."

"It was good."

"Specifically?"

"What are you hoping to prove here?"

"I'm not sure." She looks at the dress with interest. "It concerns me that you're lying."

I take a clothespin and mark the dress.

"Blake told me about your company, how the owners might sell. That must be stressful." She shifts through the dresses, one eye on me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Shit happens at start-ups. Nick is trying to prevent the sale."

"Nick?"

"That's his name."

"You're blushing." Her gaze goes to my neck. "Do you have a crush on him, or is it more than that?"

An out, a perfect out. I have a crush on Nick, and I hooked up with some guy to get him out of my head. I can erase her questions with one little lie. But I can't stand any more lies.

"You do realize that we're shopping for your wedding dress?" I ask. "Maybe we should focus on that."

"Whatever happens with Odyssey and Nick, you're always welcome with me and Blake."

"Thank you."

"If you tell me you're having sex with him, I won't freak out. I swear I won't. Even though it's so stupid to have sex with your boss."

"That's very encouraging. Thanks, sis. You really make me feel like I'm not an idiot." I play with my coat.

"These dresses are too showy. Let's blow them off and get coffee."

"You're getting married next month. You need to find a dress."

"We'll come back after the coffee. The store is dead. What's she going to do?"

"God, if I was working here, I'd hate you."

"Please. She's looking at me like I'm a dollar sign. It's all about the commission."

"Not everyone has a billionaire fiancé."

"Or a CEO... who gives her hickeys." Kat nods to the salesgirl. "We're going to grab espressos. We'll be back soon."

The salesgirl frowns. "We can't hold the dresses."

"That's fine. Should be half an hour." Kat links arms with me and leads me towards the exit.

I yell back at the salesgirl as we walk out the door. "Just find something classy with lace. She'll buy anything pretty. She has no taste."

Kat play-smacks my arm. The street is bustling with people on their lunch breaks. We stop into the nearest coffee shop that isn't a Starbucks and wait in line.

"So..." Kat taps her toe against the tile. "How is your internship going? Besides the hickeys and the owners trying to sell the company?"

"Amazing. Nick is a programming and AI genius. I'm learning a lot under him."

"And you're learning a lot under him?"

I clear my throat, praying for the customer in line in front of us to be quick.

He isn't and Kat is staring at me with laser beams of concern.

Finally, he finishes. We step to the register and order vanilla lattes.

She quick draws her credit card, waving away my objections. "You're helping with my dress. Coffee is the least I owe you."

"You never owe me anything for helping you."

"Okay. Then I just want to buy my sister a coffee. You can get the next one."

We move to a table against the wall.

Kat sits up straight, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes focused on me. "What's up with Nick? I won't judge or try to help or do anything but listen."

"You swear? Especially the middle part."

"I swear on my ability to draw."

I want to tell her the truth, but I'm not so sure about her ability to stay uninvolved. When the barista calls our order, I excuse myself.

Kat's eyes are wide. She bites her lip like she's trying not to show how worried she is. There's more control and confidence to it than there was this time last year.

She's in charge of her life. She's going after what she wants.

Maybe it's possible that she won't put my problems ahead of hers.

I set the drinks on the table as I slide into my seat. The sweet, creamy beverage fills me with warmth.

Risking my desires is one thing. Risking Kat's well-being is totally out of the question.

"You're not doing me a favor by keeping whatever this is a secret." She plays with her sweater. "You're only making me more worried."

Damn, she's a mind reader.

I take a deep breath. I can do this. I can admit how reckless and headstrong I've been. "I slept with him."

Her eyes go wide and her jaw drops. She pulls it up quickly, pursing her lips like she's trying to hide her shock. "Just the one time or more?"

"It's an ongoing thing."

"Oh."

"You're freaking out."

"Not at all." She takes a long sip, worry spreading all over her face. "So are you two fucking or is it more serious than that?"

"I'm not sure. I like him. More than I've ever liked anyone." I soak in the warmth of my drink. "It's confusing."

"What about it?"

"It was supposed to be casual. My head is telling me it's a bad idea, but my heart—"

Her voice is soft and sweet, not teasing anymore, just concerned. "It's love. Listen to your heart."

"But that's going to get me hurt."

"No risk, no reward." She studies my expression. "Do you want to like him?"

I nod.

"Do you want to trust him?"

"Yeah." I do. I want to find out everything about him. I nod.

"Then, whatever you decide, I'm behind you one hundred percent."

"Thanks."

"Though he's probably behind you, huh?" She smirks.

"Did you just make a sex joke?"

"I'm not totally uncool."

"Only mostly."

* * *

When we return, the boutique is empty and the salesgirl has a custom rack of half a dozen dresses. I help Kat into them, one at a time, oohing and ahhing as she steps onto the platform.

Kat scrutinizes her reflection with confusion. After three dresses, she's slow and tired.

"I should have made that a triple shot latte." She slides out of a ball gown and hangs it up. She turns to me, not at all shy about wearing nothing but bikini underwear. "Why does this have to be such an ordeal?"

"It doesn't. You can show up just like that. Well, with pasties. Maybe a 'B' and an 'S' to show your love."

She smirks. "I forgot my strapless bra. You don't mind, do you?"

"Just surprised. You used to run into your room and lock the door to change."

She shrugs. "I guess I'm used to being on display."

"Gross." I examine the dresses on the "try" hook.

One is pretty but too poufy and showy for Kat. I move it to the "no" hook.

Another is too big. There's not enough time for that level of alterations.

The last is beautiful—a lace sheath with elbow-length sleeves and an illusion neckline and back.

I glance at my sister again. She's smaller and thinner than she is in my head. Almost like she's the one who needs my protection.

I slide the dress off its hanger.

"Last one?" she asks.

"Last one. Then we get more coffee."

"How much money do you spend on coffee a week? It must be in the three figures."

"I plead the fifth." I unzip the dress and help her into it. It's a little tight in the bust and loose in the waist (a nice problem to have). Otherwise, it fits perfectly.

Kat takes a deep breath. She shakes her shoulders like she's trying to relax. "You're not saying anything."

Warmth spreads through my chest and stomach. "Let's look at it in the main room."

"That good?"

"Better."

She steps into the main room, her gaze going to the three-panel mirror. Her jaw drops.

She looks gorgeous. The dress hangs off her curves with a slight flare below the knees. It's much simpler and straighter than the other styles, and it's so her. The lace is feminine and sensual and beautiful. It's Kat.

A tear rolls down my cheek. My sister is really going to do this. She's really getting married.

"I'm pretty sure that means you like it." She turns back to me. "You're going to make me cry."

"It's perfect. You have to get it." I wipe my tears. "If you like it."

She turns back to the mirror, examining her reflection. Her eyes fill with wonder. It's the same look she gets when she's lost in thought about her comic. "I love it."

"You look happy." I nearly choke on the words. That warm feeling in my stomach spreads out to my toes. I never thought I'd see her so happy. I never thought either of us had a chance for that.

I certainly never expected love to bring tears to my eyes. It's not bullshit. It's fucking real.

It's possible. Real love is possible.

Kat blinks back a tear. She wipes her eyes. "You got me started."

"You look so beautiful."

She steps off the platform to hug me. I turn my neck to avoid getting any makeup I failed to wash away on her dress. All the lingering tension in my muscles relaxes as my sister squeezes me.

I'll always have Kat. I'll always trust her. Not everyone is so lucky.

* * *

Kat buys the several-thousand-dollar dress and arranges an appointment for rush alterations. We celebrate with a long lunch and a matinee.

I use the dark, empty space of the theater to take a half nap. What I catch of the movie—some sort of mother/daughter indie drama—isn't half bad.

After, Kat heads home to work on her latest comic. I'm about two miles from my apartment, and the weather is high forties and sunny. I unbutton my coat and check my phone as I start my walk down Broadway.

I have a text from Nick. It's a few hours old.

Nick: How are you feeling?

Lizzy: Good. Doctor says I'm clear for "any physical activity."

Nick: How did he say it?

Lizzy: With a wink and a riding crop. Are you afraid of competition?

Nick: No. I can snap my fingers and get you out of your clothes.

Lizzy: Go on.

Nick: I'll be distracted during my meeting. Did he flirt with you?

Lizzy: I'm going home to get into bed all by myself. I could stand to be distracted.

Nick: You're teasing.

Lizzy: You like it. What if he did? Flirting is normal. I used to flirt with every male customer at Pixie Dust. And any woman who showed interest.

Nick: Didn't that make you feel cheap?

Lizzy: I couldn't afford to care. I needed the commission.

Someone bumps into me, making me acutely aware that I am standing on the corner with a walk sign in front of me.

I press the phone against my chest as I cross the street. It buzzes with the next text message but I force myself to walk another three blocks before I look at it.

Lizzy: I should go. I'm walking home, and I'm going to walk straight into a pole. Plus, you have that meeting.

Nick: Did your sister pick out a dress?

Lizzy: It's beautiful. Perfect for her. I cried when I saw it.

Nick: You're sweet.

Lizzy: Agree to disagree.

Nick: Meet me tonight. For dinner and a movie. The Matrix is playing at a theater in Brooklyn.

Lizzy: And you didn't lead with that? Damn, Marlowe, I thought you were good at getting what you want. Just so you know, there will be no funny business during The Matrix.

Nick: Funny business?

Lizzy: Yes, funny business. You were a teenager once. I'm sure you at least made out in a movie theater.

Nick: At least?

Lizzy: You never did anything at a movie? Did you even have girlfriends in high school after everything that happened?

Nick: I'm not broken. You don't have to be careful with me.

Lizzy: Did you?

Nick: One. I moved so slowly that she told all her friends I was gay.

Lizzy: Get out.

Nick: It's true.

Lizzy: Did that bother you?

Nick: I didn't have anything to prove.

Lizzy: Did you ever tie her up or anything? I know that being dominant isn't caused by abuse or anything, but it seems like it helps you.

Nick: I didn't try that until I was older. At first, it was the only thing that could relax me enough to make it possible for me to enjoy sex. Then I started to like it. There's power when someone gives themselves to you willingly. The trust is intoxicating.

Lizzy: Are you trying to tease me, Marlowe?

Nick: Yes.

Lizzy: I should let you go. You have that meeting. I don't want to distract you with the mental image of me in your lap, my panties at my knees, your tie around my wrists.

Nick: Meet me for dinner at seven. Movie starts at eight.

Lizzy: Are you distracted?

Nick: Thoroughly.