Since that night, the sound of the upright bass had always calmed me. It has a low rumble, concentrated and deep. I loved the way it added such a rich layer to jazz and the blues, just as an electric bass grounds all the textures together in rock music. I liked to play either instrument, depending on my mood.

I’d always enjoyed working with my hands. Even dabbled in art and photography, but music was my first love. My original band was Shane, Joe, Logan, and me in my parents’ basement rec room in the eighth grade. We mostly just messed around, but I was probably the most serious about it in the group.

By high school, while they had moved on to other things, I continued playing in several different bands, performing at parties and even at some bars. I was heavy into smoking dope and could have sworn some of my best music was written while I was flying high.

In Amsterdam, I became a damn competent studio engineer. I loved working with new talent who’d come in to record their first albums. If they were a shitty band, no amount of engineering could help, especially if they ever wanted to play live. I’d tell them that they’d have to lip synch forever, or they could practice hard for the next several weeks, then come back and try again instead. Some bands told me to fuck off. Had their eyes so set on fame that they ignored my advice and then fell flat on their faces months later.

My other favorite part of working in the studio was sitting in on bass, or any other instrument, when a band needed extra sound for their demo. I loved losing myself in the music. Creating something new with people I’d never met.

I lit up a joint with the hope that it would help me unwind and actually fall asleep tonight. I was going to work for my father in the morning, and I needed to get my head screwed on straight, so I only took a couple of hits. I didn’t want him to see that my eyes were red or glassy.

Dad had said he was done with me and the music biz, and that I owed him, needed to pay him back after I’d messed up so royally in Amsterdam. And I knew he was right.

Besides, in a lot of ways, I was still the same screw-up I was in high school. A kid who needed to put in extra hours just to earn passing grades. I still couldn’t make it on my own, not yet. Not with only my music to support me. But sooner or later, I would have to prove to him that I could. Prove it to myself, really.

I padded out into the kitchen for a glass of water and then made my way down the hall to Rachel’s room. I opened the door a crack to make sure she was still asleep. A totally brainless and dangerous thing to do—watching her lying there in only her tank top and underwear after I’d helped remove her shorts so she’d be more comfortable. I could’ve slipped inside those sheets so easily and held her all night.

I couldn’t shake the words Rachel had uttered right before I had kissed the hell out of her. She said that I had left her. How was that even possible? She had been the one to pull back, to escape to a college so far away from home.

I considered what a rough time it must’ve been for her. She probably felt like everyone was moving on without her. And I never wanted her to feel that way again.

Just as I pulled her door closed my phone buzzed with a text. It was from Julia, my old high school fling who had also been at the party.

Julia: Everything okay with Rachel? Miles got stinking drunk after she left and spouted off about how miserable he was that she wouldn’t even talk to him.

Me: Poor fucking baby. Yeah, she’s fine. Thanks for checking in.

Julia: No problem. How about you? Are you fine? I’m up at Lucy’s Bar. Miles just left here with some group of friends from college. Want to hang out?

I knew that meant she wanted to hook up. I still had a semi hard-on but the thought of being with anyone other than Rachel made my libido shoot way down.

Still, Rachel would’ve probably expected me to move on to the next girl. For now, I’d let her keep thinking that, just in case it would make her comfortable touching me. But the truth was: I’d rather get off on only my fantasies of her than sleep with somebody else.

At least until the summer was over and she was gone.

Me: Sorry. I’m beat. Catch you another time.

Then I crashed against my sheets, sleep finally consuming me.

Chapter Seven Rachel

I woke in a bleary-eyed haze. I was only in my tank and underwear—no pajamas, no shorts from last night. How had that happened? I felt tender in certain areas of my body, like my neck, my nipples, and between my legs. And then it all came rushing back. My heart thundered in my chest, and I felt panic rise up in my throat.

A faint recollection of the sound of Kai playing his upright bass in the middle of the night came to me. It kept lulling me back to sleep because I always found his music hypnotic and soothing. Had he stayed up until all hours feeling guilty over what happened between us?

I immediately sat up and considered that I may have ruined our friendship. Ruined one of the most constant things in my life with one of the most important people I’d ever had the honor of befriending.

What the fuck had I done?

It was bound to be awkward between us now.

Why did I seem determined to destroy relationships with all the guys in my life?

I needed to drag my ass out of bed, find him, and tell him I was sorry. Ask him to forgive me. I flung my legs over the bed and then held on to my roiling stomach.

I ran for the bathroom and threw up the contents of my alcohol feast from last night. I’d done those shots at the bar in the kitchen and that’s when everything with Kai had gone downhill fast. But he had smelled so good and felt so right.

I brushed my teeth, slid into a pair of jeans, and listened for noises in the house. It didn’t sound like Dakota was home. Had she crashed at Shane’s house? She could have walked in on Kai and me last night. And in the throes of passion, I wouldn’t have given a fuck. But now I certainly did.

I didn’t hear Kai rummaging around in the house either. Maybe I missed him. Maybe he took off early to get away from me. All because I couldn’t get a grip on seeing Miles. I was such a fucking mess. I’d been home all of two weeks and already couldn’t handle being back.

I opened the door and padded to the living room. My heart lurched when I saw Kai out on the balcony. He was sitting in one of the wicker chairs, his fingers gripping a cup of coffee and his feet resting on the ledge.

I fought the image that swelled inside me. The image of me climbing into his lap, into the warmth of his strong arms, and our watching the sunrise together.

Instead I reached for a mug from the cupboard and poured myself a huge cup of coffee. The first sip was heavenly. Determined to make things right, I strode to the screen door.

I heard Kai’s muffled words. “Understood, Dad.”

I realized now that he had placed his cell phone on the table, set to speaker. I recognized Mr. Nakos’s strong, deep voice. He sounded frustrated. The only words I could make out were smoking dope, company policy, and then, show some respect. I’d heard many such arguments between them over the years, but Kai was always good at shrugging them off.

He didn’t even seem that bothered right now. His voice was calm and steady. “Okay, Dad. See you in a bit.”

Sliding open the door as gently as possible, Kai’s shoulders instantly became rigid. My stomach tightened into a fist and the only thought I could muster was that I’d take it all back—everything we’d done, how he’d made me feel—just to hang on to our friendship.

My voice broke. “K . . . Kai.” He didn’t turn to look at me, just raised his cup to his mouth to take another sip. The only telltale sign of his emotions was the mild tremor of his fingers as they grasped the handle. I rounded his chair to stand in front of him.

I sucked in a breath at Kai’s effortless beauty. Did he even understand the effect he had on the female population? Today he wore an army-green T-shirt that made his bronze skin glint in the sunlight. The name Charles Mingus was splashed across the front in bold white letters. His jeans were a dark wash and his tan feet were bare.

I fidgeted, placing one of my feet on top of the other, while he stared up at me, his gaze as strong as steel. I couldn’t stop myself from looking at his full lips and imagining how rough and then soft they’d been against me last night. His words were also brazen and then smooth, and I recalled how the juxtaposition had turned me on full throttle.

I couldn’t see the outline of his nipple piercings through the thick material of his shirt, but I knew they were there and I remembered how they’d felt against my back. Before my nipples could respond in kind, I turned away to gaze at the skyline over the balcony.

“Morning, Rach.” Kai’s voice was low and gruff, and I was grateful just to hear the sound of it. “How are you feeling?”

I shook my head and turned to look at him. I needed to talk about what I’d done. I didn’t give a damn about how I was feeling. I deserved to puke my guts out for days on end. “Kai, I—”

“Don’t say it, Rachel.” His hand shot out, and he winced. “It’s cool, okay?”

“Is it?” I sank into the chair across from him.

“Of course it is, Turtle,” he said matter-of-fact, like maybe he’d had just this kind of conversation with countless women. Maybe girls who wanted more from him the following morning. I imagined him letting them down easy. Saying everything was cool. And the thought of that made my stomach twist. I swallowed the bile rising at the back of my throat.