“Fuck around with whomever you want, Nevin, except Luna. I’m begging you. It won’t end well for any of us.”

  “She ain’t my type anyway,” I tell him, trying to alleviate some of his worry, although I don’t owe him shit.

  “Liar.”

  “I got to go.”

  “Nevin…”

  “Bye,” I tell him and hang up.

  Fuck him and the perfect life he created.

  Let him squirm a little.

  7

  LUNA

  “You want a blanket?” Rosie asks me as I curl on my side on the chaise lounge by the pool.

  The sunshine feels great today. Not too hot for the first time in months. This is fall in Florida. There are no leaves to change colors, no crispness to the air.

  “No. I’m comfy.”

  She stands over me, casting a shadow near my feet. “You sure?”

  “Completely.” I wave my hand, letting her know she’s blocking the sun.

  Rosie lies down on the chaise next to mine and lifts her arms upward, locking her fingers behind her head. “It’s a pretty day,” she says, beating around the bush.

  She wants answers about last night but hasn’t come right out and asked.

  “Winter is right around the corner.”

  “So…” she says, drawing out the word.

  “It went like shit,” I tell her, answering her question before she asks, which could’ve taken more minutes than I have to give. “He was an asshole.”

  “Was he mean? Did he hurt your feelings?”

  I raise myself up on one arm and stare at her. “Why would you think that?”

  She lifts a shoulder, giving me a sorrowful smile. “I don’t know. We don’t know him, and I figured—”

  “He didn’t do anything to me. He’s just not friendly.”

  “I’m sure prison can suck the friendly right out of a man.” She glances up at the clouds, her eyes following the path of one across the sky. “I’m sure he’s pissed at the world. Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Yeah, Ro. I’d be super pissed, but I was being nice to him, and he was being rude and difficult.”

  Rosie reaches over, touching the top of my hand. “You have to remember they didn’t grow up like we did. Their kindness and social skills are different.”

  “Dylan isn’t such an asshole.”

  “Dylan had years away from his family to figure out how to be nicer than the rest. That time for Nevin was spent being surrounded by criminals.”

  I sigh.

  “Ian wouldn’t want you to make yourself feel worse than you already do. If Nevin wants to be alone, you may have to let him be,” she adds.

  Asher, Stone, and Trace—our dumbass cousins—come barreling out with their swimsuits on, carrying towels, and elbowing one another in a fit of laughter.

  Rosie watches them as they throw down their towels on the chairs nearby. “What’s so funny?” she asks them.

  Stone, who’s grown like a weed the last few years, stretches his arms, looking every bit like his father, my uncle Mike. “Just talking about the chicks we met last night.”

  “Where did you three end up?” I ask as they wade into the pool like they’re refined instead of the punk boys they are.

  “A hot club down in Tampa,” Asher, Tamara’s brother, answers before dipping his head under the water.

  “It was fucking mint, but my parents can’t know we ever went there,” Trace adds.

  “Aunt Izzy and Uncle James would be pissed,” Stone tells Trace. “But honestly, what could they do, bro? We’re in college. You’ve been out for a while. You don’t even live at home anymore.”

  “I’m pretty sure Uncle James could find a way to make Trace pay.” Stone laughs, spreading his arms out along the top of the pool as he takes up residence at a spot near the other side.

  “It’s more my mom I’m worried about,” Trace says.

  Even if he’s not the brightest, at least he’s smart enough to be worried about Aunt Izzy. She can make grown men cower.

  “Aunt Izzy is scary as fuck, yo,” Asher tells him, looking back into my grandparents’ house, where Izzy is helping my grandmother in the kitchen. “She’s one person I wouldn’t cross.”

  “Try having her as a mom. Your parents are cool, Ash. Mine…not so much.”

  “Why would they get pissed about a club? You three are always at clubs.” Rosie looks at me, and I shrug.

  “Makes no sense,” I tell her.

  “Well…” Trace winces. “It wasn’t a dance club.”

  My eyes widen because I know what he’s saying without him having said it. “You went to one of those clubs?” I ask, shocked at my three cousins and their boldness—or maybe it’s more stupidity.

  “Wasn’t in the plans, but the girls wanted to go,” Asher explains.

  “Women,” Stone adds, checking out his muscles as he flexes his biceps, and the water dotting his skin sparkles with his movement.

  Men.

  These three have the biggest heads. Cocky isn’t even a strong enough adjective to describe them. They’re emotional wrecking balls for the opposite sex, blowing through girls like they’re disposable.

  “We were drinking, just hanging out, and started talking with them. They asked if we’d take them to this other club, without telling us what kind of club it was.” Asher shakes his head.

  “Wait,” I say, moving my body to sit up and face the boys. “You met three random chicks and they invited you to a sex club, and you just went…no questions asked?”

  Trace stares at me with his eyebrows pulled downward. “Well, yeah, cousin. That’s how it works.”

  “That’s how it works?” I repeat, confused, because that’s not how it works unless you’re an idiot.

  But then I remember they’re walking balls of hormones. Driven by nothing more than their dicks and the need to feed their libido.

  “When three chicks ask you to go somewhere, anywhere, you don’t say no or ask questions,” Stone explains like it’s the written law of bro code. “You just go.”

  “Three hot chicks, at that. They could’ve asked us to go to a dark alley, and we would’ve gone,” Asher continues to explain the stupidity like it is the way of the world, and somehow, I’ve missed the lesson.

  “Stupid,” Rosie mutters. “It’s shocking you three are still alive with all the dumb shit you’ve done.”

  Trace shrugs. “It’s hard to kill a Greek god.”

  I roll my eyes. “You three aren’t Greek, and you’re not gods either.”

  “I’m half Greek,” Stone says, raising his hand in the air. “And based on my muscles, I’m as close to a god as a woman can come.” He waggles his eyebrows, earning a groan from Rosie and me.

  Asher nudges him in the ribs. “Your lips to God’s ears, brother.”

  “Do the girls you hang out with like your attitude?” Rosie asks them. “You three ooze confidence and not in the way that would catch my eye.”

  “Not trying to catch their eyes, Ro. Also, based on the way they cling to us like lint on a dark sweater, I’d say the chicks dig the attitude. They’re like moths to a flame, babe.”

  I gag a little, pretending to vomit at their ridiculousness.

  “You three are not all that,” Ro tells them.

  “The way our phones blow up would say otherwise,” Asher tells her without so much as a smile.

  “Women are dumb,” I mutter.

  “Yep,” Rosie says to me with a nod.

  “Did you end up at the same club your parents used to go to?” I ask Trace, knowing he’ll hate being reminded that his parents once had a more adventurous sex life than he could ever imagine.

  He instantly winces. “No, cuz. That would be fucking weird. We ended up at a different place on the other side of town. Thank fuck, too. The last thing I need is for them to find out we were there.”

  “Truth,” Asher whispers as he walks through the water to the other side. “We’d get an earful.”

  “The community isn’t that big,” I remind them. “I’m sure they’ll catch wind of it eventually.”

  I ignore them as they go on and on about the women and the club. All topics I don’t want to hear my little cousins discussing. The less I know about their sex lives, the better.

  There’s only one thing on my mind, and it’s getting Nevin to open up and find some happiness in his life.

  Stone peers back at me, catching me off guard. “What’s wrong? Something happen?”

  “No,” I answer quickly.

  He doesn’t stop staring, and I look away, hating when he tries to figure me out. “I’m not buying it. Your sparkle is gone, babe.”

  “Just thinking about Ian,” I tell him, hoping it’s enough to get him to back off with the line of questioning.

  “Understandable, but there’s something else,” he pushes. “I know you too well.”

  “Whose ass do we need to kick?” Trace asks, making a fist and smashing it into his other palm.

  “No one’s.”

  I have no doubt they’d at least try. The men in this family, even the youngest ones, are protective to a fault. They’ll rush into battle without having a game plan, and by sheer, dumbass luck, they somehow come out unscathed.

  “She’s trying to make friends with Nevin,” Rosie blurts out, never able to keep her big mouth shut.

  Trace sucks in air between his teeth. “Fuck. For real?”

  Stone shakes his head. “Bad idea.”

  Asher bobs in the water, his eyes now trained on me. “The prison guy?”

  “He’s not a criminal,” I tell them, feeling defensive about a man I barely know.

  “But he was in prison for years,” Asher explains, like I don’t know the reality that was Nevin’s life.

  “He didn’t do it. He didn’t deserve to be there,” I shoot back immediately. “He took the rap for his brother.”

  As if my three cousins sent out an invitation to the rest of the family, the entire crew marches out of the sliding glass doors.

  “What’s going on?” Gigi asks as she sits down at the edge of my chair, noticing the sudden quiet.

  “Nevin took her sparkle,” Asher says with a shrug, ratting me out like a traitor.

  “He what?” Tamara asks her brother. “Her sparkle?”

  “Fuck,” Dylan hisses.

  “We’ll take care of him,” Mammoth says, making the same motion Trace did a moment ago with his fist. “No one’s going to be mean to Luna.”

  Why are all men cavemen? Not everything can be solved with a fist. And while, at times, it may be necessary, Nevin doesn’t need an ass-whooping; he needs a goddamn hug.

  “I’m not helpless, people. I can take care of myself, and Nevin didn’t steal my sparkle—or anything else, for that matter.”

  “Did you sleep with him?” Gigi asks, making my body rock backward.

  God, she can be such a judgmental bitch. Sure, I’m not a virgin and have slept with my fair share of guys, but I’m not throwing my pussy around to every passerby.

  “No, Gigi. That would require him to be nice and for me to be willing, which he isn’t and I’m not.”

  “When do you need a guy to be nice for you to sleep with him?” Rosie asks with a small laugh. “If my memory serves me…”

  Here we go. My sister has a memory like a built-in filing cabinet. She never forgets anything and pulls up bullshit from ten years ago like it happened yesterday.

  I give her the middle finger. “I do have standards.”

  Gigi isn’t fazed by my gesture when she keeps talking, “So, you’re saying if he were nice, you’d sleep with him?”

  “No,” I bite out, keeping my middle fingers highly visible.

  “Lies,” Rosie teases. “He’s your type.”

  “What’s my type?” I ask her, sitting up now because I’m not going to take what feels like an attack lying down.

  “Grumpy and gorgeous.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t like grumpy guys, and he’s not gorgeous.”

  “You do. Ian was the exception, although he had a grumpy side too sometimes,” Gigi says. “And unless you’re blind, Nevin is cute.”

  “You just haven’t found the right amount of grumpy and gorgeous to keep your attention long enough. You’re a fixer, babe. You always want to help, and Nevin is the perfect match for a girl like you, but he isn’t having it,” Rosie explains.

  “And he never will,” Dylan adds. “Stay away from him, Lu. I already told you.”

  I narrow my eyes at Dylan, hating him just a little bit more. “That’s your brother you’re talking about.”

  “And you’re now my sister-in-law. Both of you are family, and I’m telling you again, no matter what Ian asked, he wouldn’t want you hurting because Nevin is an asshole. Steer wide and clear of him.”

  “He may be an asshole, but at least he’s honorable,” Jett says, sitting next to Lily at the table off to the right with his arm around her shoulders.

  “Don’t you start,” Gigi tells him, pointing her finger his way. “Honorable or not, I don’t want my sister with him.”

  “What do you even know about him?” Nick asks Gigi after her swift and definitive condemnation of Nevin.

  Gigi waves her hand. “Don’t need to know more than he’s Dylan’s brother, and while he did something honorable, he doesn’t have much to offer my sister except misery. And based on the sad puppy dog look on her face, I’d say he’s already giving her a heavy dose.”

  Carmello clears his throat, entering the fray. “You can’t judge a man for being the way he is after serving time in prison for a crime he didn’t even commit. Add to that, the fact that he did it to save his brother’s life. Sorry, Dylan, but that’s a man I wouldn’t mind my sister being with.”

  Dylan gives him a chin lift. “Lucky for you, you don’t have a sister. And I know, at his core, my brother is a good man, but it’s going to take him time to find out who he is, Luna. I just don’t want you to become part of his healing process. I think he’s going to leave a lot of damage in his wake. Walsh men don’t do well with feelings, and you feel too much. You know?”

  I cross my arms over my chest, hating that they’re talking about my life and trying to decide everything for me. Add in the fact that they’re judging Nevin before even giving him a chance, and I’m over the conversation. I climb to my feet, glancing around at all of them. “You all need to worry about your own lives. Not mine. I’ve got mine handled. Stop trying to read me and figure out what’s wrong with me or who did something to upset me. Worry about yourselves and not me. Understood?” I tap my foot, waiting for their responses as they gawk at me in complete shock.

  “Understood,” Lily answers for the group. “We’re just worried.”

  “Worry about someone else. Maybe worry about the three dumbasses who met some random bimbos last night and ended up at a sex club,” I announce, dropping the bomb which will no doubt lead straight back to James and Izzy.

  “Fuck, Lu. You had to out us like that?” Stone calls out, smacking the water with his hand, sending a few drops in my direction.

  “Shit,” Trace mutters. “I can’t believe she just did that.”

  I march off, leaving the boys with a lot of explaining to do, along with even more groveling.

  I’ve never been a tattletale, but I needed a reprieve from all their eyes on me, trying to tell me what to do.

  Whether or not I try again with Nevin is my business and no one else’s.

  8

  NEVIN

  “Hey,” my brother says as soon as I open the door to my motel room. “We need to talk.”

  I don’t move out of the doorway. We’ve said all that needs to be said. He hates me, and my feelings toward him aren’t too far off. “I don’t think we have much to say to each other.”

  He peers down, kicking the tip of his boot into the cement walkway. “I need to talk to you. You don’t need to talk back, but I have shit I need to get off my chest.”

  “Sounds like it’s your problem. How about this? I let you off the hook for whatever you have to say. You don’t need to come in, talk through our past. What’s done is done. Leave it all behind us.”

  “Please, Nevin,” he begs. “Ian wouldn’t want this for us.”

  “You’re such a dick.” I move to the side, letting him into my room.

  He steps inside, looking around. “Interesting place,” he mutters. “Not quite what I thought it would be like inside.”

  “It’s better than prison.”

  He blinks slowly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine—”

  “No. You can’t,” I snap, stalking past him toward the bed. The mattress sags and squeaks under my weight as I sit. “You wanted to talk. So, talk.”

  He collapses into a chair across from me. “I should’ve stayed.”

  “Yep,” I clip out. “No shit.”

  “I should’ve been the one to protect you guys from Dad. I fucked up. I should have fought for you guys, but I knew no court would’ve given me custody. I was in a shitty position, and the only thing I could think to do was leave. I thought if I left, Dad wouldn’t be so angry, and maybe he wouldn’t hit anyone anymore.”

  “He did hate you the most,” I tell him, not caring how he feels. My father did too. He had pure hatred for Dylan, but it wasn’t as if he loved any of us. He didn’t even like us. “But way to go, thinking like Mom. How’d that work out for us?”

  “I thought he’d mellow if I wasn’t around, but you’re right. I was stupid. I couldn’t think clearly when I was there.”

  Mellow? My father was about as mellow as vinegar. Nothing and no one could make him any different. Certainly not the absence of one of his kids.

  “He didn’t mellow a damn bit, dumbass.”

  “I know.” He squeezes his eyes shut.

  “You could’ve looked back. You could’ve called. You could’ve acted like we still existed. You just took off, leaving everything and everyone, including us, behind you.”

  “I fucked up.”

  “Yep,” I bark. “We’ve established that. Even though Dad was an asshole, we always had one another. But you, when you left, you made us feel like we didn’t even have that.”