“I’m an overachiever,” I say. I kiss her, drawing her lower lip between my teeth. I’m hard against her belly, and I’m afraid it will scare her.

“What about you, Pete?” she says. She reaches down my belly and slips her tentative fingers beneath my waistband, and her eyes open wide as she wraps her fingers around me and grips me tightly.

I bury my face in her neck. I’ll just let her touch me for a second. But a second is all it takes. “Oh shit,” I groan as my balls crawl up toward my body, and I spill into her hand. Her hand stills for a second, but her eyes close as she makes a happy sound and she grips me tighter. I thrust into her fist, which is now wet with the product of us. She doesn’t let go. Her hand is tight and sure. She rolls her thumb around the tip with every thrust of my hips. She’s touching me, and I look down between us and see that I made a god-awful mess on her belly. I still and look up into her face. She’s laughing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look quite so happy. She wraps me up with her clean hand and holds me tight against her. Her other is trapped between us, and she’s still holding onto my dick. I pull my h*ps back, trying to slide out of her grip, and hiss as she squeezes me tighter. I throw the shirt that’s over her tits to the side and lay my forehead against her na**d skin, trying to catch my breath. “I’m sorry,” I say. I didn’t mean to do that.

She takes my face in her hands and lifts it so that I look at her. She’s grinning. “Are you kidding?” she laughs. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah, it kinda was,” I say. I kiss her. I can’t stop it. I have to. “We’re a mess,” I warn.

“I don’t care.” She giggles, and I have never, ever heard a happier sound.

“Are you all right?” I ask. What if she’s delirious from the stress of it?

She lays her head back against the pillow, her chest shaking with laughter. “I think I just came on your face,” she says. She giggles again.

I laugh, too. I can’t help it. It’s contagious—her happiness. She’s f**king happy. And so am I.

Reagan

I wake up in Pete’s arms, our na**d limbs tangled together. Pete had taken off his boxers and used them to clean up the mess between us, and then he slid into bed na**d, just like me. He’d pulled me against his chest and kissed my forehead, murmuring softly to me about how amazing that was. I don’t think it was nearly as amazing for him as it was for me. He had to work to get me off, and all I had to do was touch him really quickly. I smile against my pillow at the thought of it. Perfect. That’s what it was. Perfect.

He stirs when I start to move, and his arms reach for me. But now I know what woke me. Maggie is retching beside the bed, and I need to get up. I’m going to have to call the vet. This isn’t normal for her. Not at all. I suppose it can wait until the sun comes up. I glance at the clock on the bedside table, and it’s not even morning yet. “I’ll be right back,” I whisper to Pete. He rolls into his pillow, and I’m not even sure he’s awake. He makes a low sound, but it’s more of a mumble. I pull Pete’s shirt over my head and slide into my jeans. Then I stick my feet into Pete’s sneakers. He won’t mind. I’m not wearing underwear, but I just need to go to the bathroom and find something to clean up Maggie’s mess. I pet her head for a second, and she looks up at me like she’s sorry. The hallway is dark when I step out, and it takes me a minute to get my bearings.

I go back and clean up the floor and go pee really quickly, but then I see Maggie standing at the front door, scratching at it. She needs to go out. It’s the middle of the night, and we’re not in a good section of town. “Oh, Mags,” I say. “Can’t it wait?” I throw my head back and groan. I suppose I could wake Pete up. I really don’t want to go down by myself. Then again, I’ll have Maggie with me.

Papers rustle at the kitchen table, and I jump. One of the brothers is sitting there, and he closes a book in front of himself. It’s the one with the ponytail—Matt? He lays his pen down and says quietly, “Does she need to go out?” He stands up and reaches for his shoes. “I’ll take her.” He slides his feet into his shoes and walks toward me.

“You don’t have to go to any trouble,” I say. I take a step back, and Maggie growls at him. He holds out his hands to the side. “Mags,” I scold. She buries her head under my hand and runs back to the door, where she scratches. “I’m just going to take her out really quick,” I say. I go back to our room, get Maggie’s leash, and clip it to her collar. I open the door and step out, but before I can close it behind me, Matt joins me. “You really don’t have to go,” I say.

He jams his hands in his pockets and walks by me, opening the door to the stairwell. He doesn’t say a word. He just walks down with us and out toward the street, where he leads us to an area with some grass and trees. It’s small, but it’ll do. Maggie immediately squats and comes back to walk circles around my legs. “All done?” he asks. He brushes his hair back because some of it’s falling out of the rubber band at the back of his neck. He really does look a lot like Pete, but he’s thin and tall. He’s not as broad as Pete, but he’s wiry and I can tell he’s strong. He’s not threatening at all, and the fact that he’s not surprises me. Men usually scare the hell out of me.

“Yeah,” I say, and we start back toward the apartment.

The city is not asleep. I doubt it ever sleeps, and some men walk by us wearing knit caps and football jerseys. I back up and step into Matt. He puts his hands on my shoulders and says, “Careful.” He squeezes my shoulders gently, and then he steps back. He holds the door wide, and I slide through without touching him. But in the back of my mind, I’m lamenting over the fact that he didn’t make my skin crawl. “You okay?” he asks as we start up the stairs.

I nod. But I have this lump in my throat. I officially have three men in my life now who don’t scare me. My dad, Pete, and this man I don’t know. And the fact that I don’t know him, yet feel okay with him touching me, amazes me. “Thanks for going with me,” I say.

“I couldn’t let Pete’s girl go out in the dark alone. He’d never forgive me.” My belly flips at his choice of words. Pete’s girl.

“I should have just woken him up. I don’t think he’d mind.”

He snorts. “You’ve never seen Pete in the morning, huh?”

I guess I haven’t. Not when he gets right out of bed. “No,” I admit. But up until tonight, he’d never came in my hand, either, so I guess I’m learning all sorts of things about him, how he looks in the morning being just one of them.

We get halfway up the stairs and I realize Maggie’s not with us. I let her leash drop after we came through the door because she always follows so closely. I look down and see her on the second level, lying on the floor panting. “Mags?” I say. I walk toward her, and she lumbers to her feet. But she’s unsteady, and she refuses to walk up the stairs.

“Will she let me carry her?” Matt asks.

I doubt it. I can carry her myself, but before I can say so, he walks over to her and lets her sniff his hand. He pets her head and down the length of her back. Then he hoists her into his arms and carries her up the stairs. She doesn’t complain, and she doesn’t try to bite him.

He lets us into the apartment and sets her down, and then he sits down on the floor and lets her crawl into his lap. “She doesn’t usually like people,” I say.

He smiles. “They can tell when we’re harmless,” he says softly. “Do you want me to find a vet tonight?” he asks.

“I think she’ll be okay until morning, don’t you?” I never know what to do with emergencies. I’ve never had to deal with one all by myself.

“Probably,” he says. He rises to his feet, and I realize how big he really is. He’s at least as tall as Pete, and he’s covered in tattoos just like Pete is, but he’s…different. It’s hard to explain. “Want something to drink?” he asks softly as he goes to the fridge.

I’m wide awake, so I may as well. He brings me a bottle of water, and I see him take a carton of ice cream from the fridge. It’s Rocky Road, my favorite.

“Want some?” he whispers, and he takes out two bowls. He starts to scoop ice cream into them.

“Did we wake you up?” I ask, and I sit down at the table when he hands me a bowl and a spoon.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t sleep well sometimes, so I get up and write.” He shrugs. “It clears my head.”

“What do you write?” I ask.

He shrugs again. “Just journal stuff,” he says. “They had me start doing it when they thought I was going to die.” He chuckles, but it’s a sound with no humor.

I pull the spoon out of my mouth. This really is good ice cream. “You’re better now, right?”

“As far as I know,” he says. “I have to go back next week for tests.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what to say.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, and he winces as he asks.

“I guess so.”

“What you feel for Pete,” he says, “is it truly affection? Or is it gratitude?”

I choke on my ice cream. It won’t go down. When I finally get through it, I say, “I can’t define it that easily.”

“Try,” he says. “He’s my brother. I’m worried.”

I point the spoon toward my chest. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. “My little brother is in love,” he says. He smiles softly. “I’m happy for him, but I still don’t want to see him get hurt.”

“I don’t want to see that, either.” The ice cream churns in my gut. “We’re still figuring things out.”

He smiles. “Glad to hear it.” He clears his throat. “I’ve seen Pete with a lot of women but never with one he looks at like he looks at you.”

Wow. I don’t know how to respond.

“Just be careful with him, okay?” he says.

A door closes down the hallway, and I hear the rapid slaps of little feet. A tiny blonde stands in the hallway and looks around the corner at me. She’s wearing Tinker Bell pajamas. “Hi,” I say. I look toward Matt, but he just chuckles.

“You’re not supposed to be up,” he says. He motions her forward, and she settles in his lap. “I think she can smell ice cream from a mile away.” He laughs and brushes her hair from her face with gentle fingers.

“Is she yours?” I ask.

He laughs. “She’s Paul’s. She lives here every other week. She was already in bed when you got here.” He bumps his knee under her bottom and says, “Can you tell her what your name is?”

“My name is Hayley,” she says. She licks her lips and looks into his bowl. He heaves a sigh and passes her his spoon but he’s smiling.

“Hayley, this is Reagan. She’s Pete’s girl.”

My heart swells at his words. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say.

She doesn’t look up from the ice cream until the spoon clanks against the empty bowl.

“You better go back to bed before your daddy sees you’re missing,” he says. He sets her down, and she kisses his cheek quickly. Then she runs back down the hallway and creeps slowly into her room.

“She’s adorable,” I say.

“Adorable is not the right word for Hayley,” he says with a laugh. “She’s five going on fifteen.”

“Do you have any kids?” I ask.

His blue eyes meet mine, and they’re full of sadness. “Kids aren’t in the cards for me. I’d love to have some, but after my treatment, there’s not a very good chance of that.” He brushes his hair back and resecures it with the rubber band. “So, I get to spoil Hayley. Paul would kill me if she knew she was up eating ice cream in the middle of the night.”

I take my bowl and his to the sink and rinse them out. “Thanks for the ice cream. And for helping with Maggie,” I say.

“There’s a lady who was in my chemical trial. She’s dying.” He looks around like he doesn’t know where to settle his eyes. “Her son called today and asked if I wanted to come to see her.”

“Are you going?” I ask.

“I’m too f**king scared to look my mortality in the face,” he says. “That could be me.” He drums his thumb on the table, his palm flat. “I’m a chickenshit. And a terrible friend.” He shakes his head, like a dog shaking water from its fur. If only it were that easy.

“Do you want some company when you go?” I ask. “I could go with you.”

His gaze leaps to mine.

“I mean, I could wait in the waiting room.”

He nods. “Maybe.” He smiles. “Thanks for the offer.”

He comes forward and grabs my arm, squeezing it gently as he walks by me. And I don’t freak out or feel like I need to hit him. Maybe it’s just him. He seems like a good guy. One of the best, probably. He’s been through a lot.

“Good night,” he says quietly.

“’Night,” I say.

I cluck my tongue at Maggie, and she follows me into the bedroom, where I close and lock the door. I shrug out of my clothes and slide into bed with Pete. He pulls me to him immediately, and I roll forward, putting my face against the light dusting of hair on this chest. “You’re cold,” he says.