He didn’t linger.

He cleaned me with his tongue and watched the road while I pulled on my pants. I knew he wanted to ask me to come back to the cabin. I knew if I touched his groin that I would find him half hard in his jeans. I even knew that if I tried to return the favor, he would leave sooner and in anger. That’s not how it works, he snapped at me once. It’s not a favor, when I make you come. It doesn’t mean you owe me. How can you think about it like that?

When Matt saw that I had my boots back on, he stepped out of the car.

“Next weekend, then,” he said, and he strolled into the swirling snow.

Chapter 24

MATT

I lived for the weekends, driving myself through the week by writing relentlessly. I wrote as much as five thousand words a day. I hated the writing as I always hate the writing, and I was locked together with it and without Hannah.

How are you surviving without her? Melanie’s question dogged me. Night Owl … paints a picture of obsession.

A picture of obsession.

She was right. I was addicted to Hannah.

I didn’t return Melanie’s call. I sent her a short message via the forum.

Pulling Night Owl off the net was rash—my bad. My brother is suspicious. Lay low about it and I’ll be in touch. Don’t worry. Don’t call. Hannah is here on and off. I’ll call you when I can. —M

Except I didn’t call when I could.

I began to think I should never have contacted Mel. She was another blind spot, another chink in my armor. I didn’t know her, I couldn’t predict her, and I couldn’t control her. If she decided to speak out about my existence, I wouldn’t be able to silence her.

Friday came again and Hannah came again, and my worries faded.

She pulled onto the drive at that finest time of day, when the light is melancholy. She brought me little things, writing supplies and food, and she dressed up for me. She wore makeup and perfume and painted her nails. She wore new lingerie—once a strappy La Perla slip that barely covered her ni**les. She drove me mad.

We f**ked all over the cabin. I had her on the deck, against the bathroom counter, in the kitchen, on the floor, and on one very memorable occasion in the cellar. I trussed her to an empty wine rack and f**ked her until she begged to come.

And then it was Sunday again.

I rode with Hannah to the end of the road. I told myself I wouldn’t get desperate and lunge between her legs like last time.

I got desperate and lunged between her legs.

Afterward, I escaped quickly—no good-bye, just the taste of Hannah on my lips—and I climbed the road back to the cabin. Back to my self-enforced solitude.

By the second week in March, winter’s edge was gone from the air. The days lengthened and the morning sun melted the snow, though the mountains froze overnight.

We set our watches forward together.

Hannah called on Tuesday. The phone’s shrill ringtone startled me; I hadn’t heard it in weeks. I smiled and pushed away from my desk.

“Baby bird.”

“Hey.” She laughed. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know, crazy social calendar, dance card full, et cetera, et cetera. What’s up?”

“Well, I talked to Kevin.”

“Bad news?”

“Good news, actually. He said I can use the cabin all spring. He’s going straight from Miami to Brazil, spending the season with his in-laws. And we got the utilities settled.”

“Perfect.” I smiled and tilted my head. Good news didn’t explain Hannah’s careful tone. “One more season. Gives us time to think.”

“Yeah. Maybe we should think now. I’m sure Kevin will want his cabin this summer.”

“I’m not worried about it. Worst-case scenario, I stay at the condo for a while. Hiding in plain sight. That, or I could move to a hotel for a few months. When you get my inheritance—” A frown pulled at my mouth. It felt weird as f**k to talk about my inheritance. It was a lot of money, and it was my money. To think of that small fortune slipping out of my control …

“Matt?”

“Ah, the money.” I ruffled my hair. “We can do whatever we want then. You could buy a cabin out here, something like that. Hey, I can’t wait to see you, Hannah.”

Hannah was quiet.

“This weekend,” I prompted. “I’m missing you.”

“Yeah. I miss you, too. This weekend, I can’t come out this weekend.”

Only then did I realize how much hope I pinned on Hannah’s visits, because my heart dropped and my mood froze. Clouds seemed to gather over my week. Suddenly, I hated the cabin. I hated the cold and the snow. I especially hated my writing, which ruined my life—ruined any chance of happiness and normalcy for me.

“Why not?”

“Pam’s throwing a party at the agency.” Hannah paused. “For The Surrogate’s release. It’s in stores on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday. I’d forgotten.”

“Yeah. I have to go to the party. And I want to. I’m excited about the book.”

“Excited about the book.” I smirked. “That’s rich. I’m glad I’m not around for any of that shit. Did Mara totally savage the manuscript?” Mara was my editor.

“No. Almost no changes were made. Just some punctuation stuff…”

“Great. They f**ked with my punctuation?”

“Pam says you’re overly fond of semicolons.”

My smirk softened. Pamela Wing, my stone-cold agent. I couldn’t picture her shedding one tear over my loss, and the thought pleased me.

“God, I miss that bitch.” I chuckled. Hannah laughed, too, relief flooding her voice.

“Anyway, I’ll drive out next weekend,” she said. “It’s not so bad.”

“Mm … not so bad.”

We chatted for an hour and then Hannah had to leave for yoga. Yoga … I loved what yoga did for her body. She was all curvy and elastic and capable of assuming the most pretzelesque positions when I f—

“Matt?”

“Huh? I love you.”

“You’re daydreamy tonight. I love you, too.”

I flipped my phone shut, and then I flipped it back open. I dialed Mel’s number.

She answered immediately.

“Hey!” she said. “I thought you’d cut me off.”

“I was thinking about it. You’ve become a problem for me, Mel.”

She laughed nervously.

“Well, you have,” I said, “but that’s not why I called. Are you still between jobs?”

“Yeah. Are you going to make fun of me again?”

“Nope. I’m going to offer you a job.”

Chapter 25

HANNAH

On Wednesday morning, I had to park two blocks from the agency. The joys of city living. I smiled as I hurried along the sidewalk. I thought about the cabin.

Yes, I would happily use Matt’s money to buy us a cabin of our own.

I loved Denver, I loved the buzz and easy access to everything, but city life necessitates escape. I recharged in the mountains with Matt. When we lay in bed listening to the owls calling to one another, I felt satisfied at the deepest level.

They sound beautiful, I once said. Matt said they sounded lonesome.

I sighed and laughed.

I just couldn’t understand that boy’s fascination with sorrow.

Too late, I saw a figure standing on the agency steps. My vision of cabin life dissipated. It was Seth Sky. I veered away from the steps, but he’d already spotted me.

“Hannah!”

Seth looked no different than he had in New Jersey—long hair, leather jacket, stormy eyes—except that he wore dark jeans and boots instead of dress slacks and oxfords. I didn’t let my gaze linger over how well Seth’s clothes fit.

“What are you doing here?” I snapped.

That stopped him cold.

“Seriously?” he said. “You’re still pissed?”

“I am not pissed.” I enunciated each word. “I haven’t thought about you since last month. But this is where I work.” I gestured to the agency. “Which I think you know. So I believe this qualifies as stalking.”

Seth cocked his head and smiled. He approached warily, hands in the air.

“I’m in town for a gig.”

“Great. I’m in town for my job.” I turned to go and Seth reached to stop me, but he paused midreach. Wise. I glared at his hand and he retracted it. “What do you want?”

“I thought we could get dinner. Sometime. Since I’m in the area.”

“No.”

“What the hell?” Seth raked a hand through his hair.

My heart softened slightly at his legitimate confusion. The Sky brothers weren’t lacking in the beauty department, and Nate and Matt had brains to spare, but Seth …

Seth was either dense or so egomaniacal that he couldn’t fathom being friend-zoned.

“I’m sorry, Seth. I just think it’s better if we don’t hang out.”

“Why?” He glowered at the sidewalk. “Nate said you’re going to the zoo with him in the spring. Why won’t you hang out with me?”

I balked, momentarily speechless. Weird … I couldn’t picture Nate sharing those plans.

“Uh, the zoo thing is tentative,” I said. “Very tentative. And Seth, that’s different. Nate is … Nate. Nate has a wife, kids…” I trailed off, looking meaningfully at Seth.

“So? Are you implying that I have ulterior motives?”

“Not implying anything.”

“So what’s the problem? What if I do have ulterior motives? You’re gorgeous, you’re funny and smart, and I want to take you out.”

“It’s not happening, Seth.”

“Never?” He glared at me.

“Never. Sorry.”

“Then we’ll be friends. Let me take you to dinner. Bring a friend if you want.”

I could see that Seth wasn’t going to give up, and I was beginning to feel cruel. What could he really do to me over dinner? Nothing, except bore me or hit on me. Or both.

Besides, I didn’t believe Seth really wanted me. To him, I was Matt’s old flame, available yet unattainable, and my resistance was probably fueling his pursuit. Maybe if I gave in to a dull dinner, he’d give up, too.

“Dinner.” I sighed. “Tomorrow night?”

His dark eyes lit up. “All right, tomorrow night.”

“Meet me at Cherry Creek. Seven okay?”

“Seven is fine.” Seth’s face fell. “The mall?”

“Yeah. They have a nice food court. I’ll meet you outside Macy’s.”

I bounded up the steps before Seth could object.

* * *

“Han, I am so hot for this guy.” My sister fanned herself as she drove. “Like if I were a dude, I’d be g*y for this guy. That hot.”

“I don’t think that’s … quite how homosexuality works,” I murmured. My hands twitched on my lap. I was fighting the urge to steady the wheel.

“Whatever, whatever.” Chrissy turned up the music—Goldengrove, of course—and raised her voice to compensate. “Just let me work my magic! You have your—”

She glanced at me as we pulled up to the shopping center. I was wearing a loose turtleneck sweater dress, leggings, and boots. Nothing sexy about it.

“Okay, you have your frock going on there. I’m working this.” My sister gestured to her chest. Her tight leather jacket was unzipped enough to show a line of cle**age. She looked good, as always. Her short hair was styled perfectly, her makeup flawless, her clothes fit snugly.

We laughed as we climbed out of the car.

“I’d pay you to take this guy off my hands,” I said. “He’s creeping on me hard. Which is weird, am I right?”

“Oh, super weird.” Chrissy nodded vigorously. “I mean, Matt—” She didn’t hesitate over Matt’s name. Not once had she given me the pity eyes or the lingering hug, even though this was our first time hanging out since the memorial. Thank God for my sister. “Matt just happened, you know? That shit just went down. It is way too sketchy for his brother to be hitting on you.”

“Thank you. My thoughts exactly.”

Except not my thoughts at all.

My thoughts were more like: Matt is still alive and if he finds out Seth is after me, he will flip the f**k out and discard anonymity in favor of fratricide.

Chrissy and I strolled into the mall. We talked smack about every other outfit we passed.

“I’ll wear that when I’m reincarnated as a whale,” Chrissy said. I couldn’t help but laugh. Okay, maybe this would be fun. Life at work, the condo, and the cabin was getting insular. Besides, I missed my sister. We got along well in spite of our differences—or maybe in light of them—and she always managed to make me smile.

Plus, when I told Chrissy I needed a buffer for dinner with the lead singer of Goldengrove, nothing could hold her back. The indie group was one of her favorites.

Seth and a bandmate were waiting for us outside Macy’s.

My heart fluttered strangely at the sight of Seth. It’s because I miss Matt, I thought, and looking at Seth is like looking at Matt. Of course.

I recognized the bandmate from my debauched night in New Jersey. He was the drummer, or maybe the bass guitarist.

“You brought … your sister?” Seth smiled at Chrissy.

Seth wore a gray wool coat over a T-shirt and jeans. His hair was tied back in a low ponytail. He almost looked preppy, except his shirt had … a squirrel on it?