that I was flying back to Boon at the end of the week.
“Bummer.” He burped, throwing an empty beer bottle through the window and watching as it dunked right into the front basket of my bike. He’d smirked to himself. “Have fun there with FUCKING JOSH.”
It was like we’d never shared that moment in my bed. That intimacy. I tried to remind myself what I’d been told about him by his own mother—what I knew about him firsthand: Knight didn’t show vulnerability. He was so deeply wounded by being constantly on the verge of being an orphan that he stuck his chin out and hid the pain.
When he felt threatened, he pushed people away. But he needed me.
“How long are you going to punish me, Knight?” My eyes blurred with the fresh tears that clung to my lower lashes. “How much longer are we going to dance this twisted tango?”
He bent his head down, plucking a fresh beer from the pack. He’d been drinking so much lately, I could hardly tell when he was sober.
“I don’t know, Moonshine.” He’d cracked the beer open, downing it in one chilling gulp. “I hope we find out soon.”
“Did Uncle Dean ever hurt you?” I asked Rosie the next day, furiously writing in my notebook.
She’d given me some great notes today, notes I was going to dig into later, notes that reminded me how deeply entwined my life was with Knight’s.
Rosie looked like I’d just asked her if the sun was hot.
She burst out laughing, not even bothering to hide her delight. I felt my cheeks heat, watching as she began to cough, a barking sound that made me wince.
She was loud, but I didn’t worry. Knight and Lev were never here when I stopped by. She wanted the project to be a secret, and I understood why. No son wanted to know his parent had lost hope she’d make it to celebrate his next birthday. No son deserved to know his mother was contemplating the eternal, dreadful question—how do you tell your children goodbye?
“Can you elaborate?” I blinked.
She sat back, blowing a lock of hair from her eyes. “Where do I begin? Oh, yes. Dean dated my sister, for one thing. And took her virginity.”
I gasped, which only made her laugh harder.
“Emilia’s?”
She nodded. “Bet you didn’t see that one coming, huh, kiddo?”
“But he loved you!” I frowned, my hands moving fast.
I was thoroughly outraged. I knew Uncle Dean and Aunt Emilia had been a thing for half a second in high school. I didn’t know they’d been so serious, or how Rosie got over it.
How would I react if Knight slept with Daria? I’d kill them both, that’s how, and Daria wasn’t even my sister. Yet, I’d kissed Vaughn. Hell, I’d kissed Daria, too. I was no less responsible for the pain distribution in my relationship with Knight than he was. My sins were just more…casual. Spontaneous. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t.
“Hmm… Let’s see. Then he spent the next decade or so—give or take—bedding anyone with a pulse, besides me, of course.” Rosie tapped her smiling lips. “Threesomes. He was big on threesomes. We were neighbors for a while, and he always had a few girls go up to his apartment. I’d meet them in the elevator, warn them off about his mysterious STD that turned groins green. He wasn’t impressed.” She snorted.
“How could you forgive him?” I signed.
I was half angry that she had, at this point. Who was I kidding? Maybe even fully. Dean Cole had done a ton of threesomes. I don’t know why it surprised me. He did have a wild streak about him. But he was so…so…in love with Rosie. From the moment he was born, it seemed.
“How could I not?” Now it was her turn to look angry. “You only get one life, Luna. One stab at this thing called happiness. Why deprive yourself of things you want just because they weren’t given to you the way you hoped for them to come? Life is like a book, a long chain of scenes threaded together by circumstances and fate. You never know how thick or thin your book is, so you better make the most out of every scene, enjoy each chapter.”
“But Uncle Dean…”
“Didn’t pay?” She arched an eyebrow, grinning. “Did he not, though? Didn’t he chase me around like a lovesick puppy? Get blackmailed by Uncle Vicious? Marry me, knowing I might not have children? Commit to me, knowing