“So, what’s the plan?” I asked as I sat down at the table not really big enough for two. Liam grabbed my bag and tossed it onto the table. “First we unpack, and then I expect to see you on your knees.” After the exchange with Diaz my brain automatically went somewhere very, very bad. “W-w-what?” I could feel the blush stretching over every inch of my body. Seriously, I think my feet were even embarrassed and angry. “I’m not… I won’t…” I knew the moment Liam realized what I was thinking because his face also shot up in flames. “No! Not… That.” He looked as though he was having some sort of episode, like maybe an aneurysm. “You were supposed to get down on your knees and beg me for forgiveness because you were wrong about the pizza guy. I don’t want… I mean, I wasn’t asking you to--” I held up a hand. “Please don’t say it. I think we’ve both been traumatized enough.”

“Pamela, I’m in love with you. Yeah, it’s that bad. You’re so beautiful to me. Shut up! Lemme tell you. Let me. Every time I look at your face or even remember it, it wrecks me - and the way you are with me - and you’re just fun and you shit all over me and you make fun of me and you’re real. I don’t have enough time in any day to think about you enough. I feel like I’m going to live a thousand years cause that’s how long it’s gonna take me to have one thought about you which is that I’m crazy about you, Pamela. I don’t wanna be with anybody else. I don’t. I really don’t. I don’t think about women anymore. I think about you. I had a dream the other night that you and I were on a train. We were on this train and you were holding my hand. That’s the whole dream. You were holding my hand and I felt you holding my hand. I woke up and I couldn’t believe it wasn’t real. I’m sick in love with you, Pamela. It’s like a condition. It’s like polio. I feel like I’m gonna die if I can’t be with you. And I can’t be with you. So I’m gonna die - and I don’t care cause I was brought into existence to know you and that’s enough. The idea that you would want me back it’s like greedy.”

“He’s sorry, Chloe. He really is a sweet guy. Don’t be a bitch about this. And don’t screw it up. Just go over there. Give him a chance and, in no time, you’ll forget everything else.And that’s exactly why I stayed in my chair. I didn’t want to forget everything else, or the next thing I knew, he’d be back on that roof, putting his life in danger.“You don’t get to do this,” I said finally.“Do what?” He asked the question innocently enough, but his gaze dipped slightly. “I”m sorry. That’s what I’m trying to say, Chloe. That I’m sorry.”“For what?”He looked up, confused. “Making you mad.”I didn’t answer, just got up to leave. I made it as far as the door. Then he was there, behind me, hand on my elbow. I didn’t look back at him. I didn’t dare. But I stopped and I listened.“When I got mad about you leaving,” he said, “it wasn’t because I thought it was stupid or I didn’t think you’d be careful.”“You were just worried about me.”An exhale, relieved that I understood. “Yeah.”I turned. “Because you think I’m worth it.”He put his fingers under my chin. “I absolutely think you’re worth it.”“But you don’t think you are.”His mouth opened. Shut.“That’s what this is about, Derek. You won’t let us worry about you because you don’t think you’re worth it. But I do. I absolutely do.”

“I did not ask you out. But I would seriously think about not shooting you down if you asked me. Nicely." I had to keep my pride.He took both of my hands in his. "Brenna Blixen will you be my girlfriend, please." He held up one of my hands and kissed my knuckles smoothly. "Pretty please. With sugar on top.”

“He exhales, then leans forward, reaching under the table to hold my knee. 'I didn't mean that. I want to be here. You know what I kept thinking about while I was away? When we went for a surf the morning after - how I felt coming up from the beach with you afterwards. I was thinking, 'How good is this?”

“That’s it,” Mabel said, getting up. She tossed her napkin on the table. “No. That is not right. I don’t know what you just said, but whatever it was, I’m pretty certain it was pure hokum. I don’t want to dance. I don’t want to hear about your plans for a summer house. I am not your sister. And if I were your sister, I’d have to tell people you’d been adopted as an act of charity. Please, don’t get up.”