“You don’t need another dad. You don’t need brothers. But honey, everyone needs a family. You let us in and we can be that family. Not the same as the old one—never be the same as the old one—but a family all the same.”

With that, he stands and disappears back inside. I drop my head and take a few calming breaths. He doesn’t understand; it’s not just about my dad and sister. It’s about me. If I go in there and I let them matter, then I’m letting Blade into a part of me I’ve spent a year pushing him out of. He changed something in me; I can’t risk that ruining everything for my mom.

I push to my feet and walk through the patio door. The guys all look up at me, but I turn my eyes to my mom who is washing dishes in the kitchen. I walk in, and she looks up the moment I round the corner. Her eyes are soft and she places the towel down, stretching her hands out to me. “Baby.”

I go into her arms, letting her hug me close. “I’m sorry for being a brat, Momma.”

She laughs. “You could never be a brat. It’s a lot to take in. Give them a chance, Aria. We’re not trying to bring back something that’s gone. They’re Jack’s kids; we have to do our best to make them feel the way he’s made you feel.”

She’s right about that. Damn it.

“Okay.”

She pulls back, smiling down at me.

“I’m going to bed.” I say. “See you in the morning?”

“Absolutely.”

I walk out of the kitchen and through the lounge. “Night, guys,” I call.

There’s silence, then a string of “nights.”

Maybe Mom is right. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

CHAPTER SIX

THEN – ONE YEAR EARLIER

“Give me one weekend.”

I stare at the man in front of me, and I so desperately want to give in to him.

“Why?” I question.

He shrugs, curling his fingers around the back of my neck. “You’re young, you’ve finished school, and you’re living it up before college. Spend a weekend with me. Let me enjoy you.”

“One weekend?” I question.

“Yeah, darlin’, one weekend.”

“Where will we spend this weekend?”

He grins. “Got a hotel.”

“You own it?” I squeak.

He throws his head back and laughs. “Shit no. I have a room. I’m only in town for a few weeks.”

“Right,” I mutter.

“Hey,” he says, taking my chin and tilting it up. “I’m not a perv, or a creep. You want me to take you home, I’ll do it right now.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what?”

I stare past him at the cars bustling down the busy streets. It’s nearing midnight and I’ve spent the entire time with him, still feeling as if I’ve known him a year.

“The thing is . . .”

I swallow.

“Darlin’, what?”

I look into his eyes. “I’m assuming this weekend will involve, ah, sex and that . . . well . . . shit . . .”

He studies me, then exhales loudly. “You’re a virgin.”

Bingo.

I nod.

He looks past me, fingers still curled around my chin.

“I want it, though.”

That much I’m sure of. I don’t want to go to college a naive virgin. Shit, no one wants that. I’m eighteen, and I’m ready. I’ve messed around with guys before, but never taken it that far. He’s a nice guy; he’s offering a weekend of fun, so why the hell wouldn’t I? I’m not that girl who swaddles her virginity in a blanket, waiting for the ‘right’ guy. There are far too many nasty endings in that department. I just want a good guy, and Mystery Guy seems like one of those.

“You don’t know me,” he says, studying my face. “I don’t expect . . .”

“I’m not a child. I like you, it sounds fun and I want to.”

He purses his lips. “You sure about that?”

I laugh softly. “It’s sweet that you want to protect my virginity more than me, but I’m about to go to college and I’d rather go slightly experienced. I don’t want to lose my virginity to some drunken asshole on a street outside a nightclub, but I also don’t want to be that girl who waits years for the right guy only to find out he’s a complete dropkick.”

He grins. “I think I like you, Mystery Girl.”

I can’t help but grin back. “Yeah? I think I might just like you, too.”

~*~*~*~

NOW

I wake with a jerk and a cry.

It takes me a moment to realize where I am, and calm my breathing. The sun is shining down over my body and I’m hot, with a light sheen of sweat coating my skin. Another dream. There’s always one. Every morning I wake to the same horror.

I close my eyes and rub my face, pushing the awful images from my mind. I take a few steadying breaths and focus on the view surrounding me.

The lake. A gorgeous, cloudless day. Happiness. Relaxation.

When I’ve gotten myself together and stopped my hands from shaking, I get out of bed and plod to the bathroom to wash my face, waking myself up, before dressing in a blue tank and a pair of cut-offs. I tie my hair up in a loose ponytail and walk towards the noisy chatter coming from the kitchen. When I round the corner, I see everyone is awake. My cheeks heat. I hate being the person who comes in last. Melanie is in the process of tossing pancake batter at Ripley, which he is protecting his face from with a frying pan.