When he comes around the car to open my door, I gaze up at him, whispering in a small voice, “Where are we?” He holds his hand out to me. I take it, and he pulls me out the car, his big hands gripping my hips. Bending his head, he kisses me once, twice, before sucking my bottom lip between his teeth. Since I still have no clue where we are, I resist the urge to dig my fingers into his black hair.

Surely he wouldn’t be kissing me like this right in front of his mother’s home, right?

But then he reluctantly pulls his beautiful mouth away from mine and immediately confirms all my suspicions. “My niece’s birthday is on Monday. Since I’ll be working at the bar most of the week, I wanted to take her out to do something special tonight.” I squeeze my eyes together, and he cups my cheek, stroking his thumb along my smooth skin. “Get that worried look off your face, Evelyn. I promise I’m not gonna try to talk you out of your panties while we’re here.”

“Thanks for the reassurance,” I say between my teeth, causing him to chuckle. After he grabs our bags, he guides me up the narrow walkway to the front door and rings the bell. While we wait for someone to answer, I turn to him and ask in an even voice, “Why did you—why didn’t you tell me you were bringing me here? To meet your family?”

“Would you have come if I told you I was taking you to see my family?”

Although the answer to that question is a firm hell no, I swallow hard and say, “I’m not sure.”

My heartbeat races as he leans his face close to mine, examining my expression. “I can take you home.” It is not a threat but a question, but I shake my head. At last, the front door swings open. The woman I recognize from the photo on his dresser is staring back at us and beaming. In person, Rhys’ mother is stunning—tall with black hair streaked with strands of gray and the same startling eyes that haunt me even when he and I aren’t together.

Her blue green eyes move cautiously from me to him, and then she smiles and motions us inside. “I thought you said you couldn’t make it!” she exclaims once we’re standing in the small living room. She jerks Rhys to her, and I look away. Focus on a wall full of photos in front of me. I can easily recognize a younger Rhys in several pictures thanks to his striking sea blue eyes, and I can only guess that the boy is Owen.

Unlike my parents, I never went to any of the hearings following Lily’s death. The only image I have in my head of Owen Delane is the tiny mug shot that appeared in the newspaper when he was charged with hit and run and manslaughter.

The ache in the back of my throat that comes from looking at these photos, from being here in this house, makes it difficult for me to swallow. To breathe.

“Evelyn.” Rhys’ breath warms my ear, and I untangle myself from my thoughts and face him with a hesitant smile. He gestures to his mom who gives me a friendly nod. “This is my mother. Mom, this is Evelyn Miller.”

She holds out her hand to me and gives my fingers a strong squeeze. “I’m Sarah Delane, it’s so nice to meet a friend of Rhys’.”

“Thanks, I—”

But I’m cut off when a shrieking child cuts between us in a flash of purple clothes and black hair. She propels herself at Rhys. “You said you weren’t coming for my birthday!” she accuses, and he leans away, giving her a mock-aggrieved look.

“Jesus, Stace, you didn’t really think I’d blow off your birthday, did you?”

She rolls her dark eyes dramatically before turning to Rhys’ mother to say something. When she notices me, she pulls her bottom lip between her small teeth. “You brought your girlfriend?”

Since I’m not sure what he’s told his family about me, I quickly shake my head. “I’m Evie, your uncle’s friend.” Before I realize what I’m doing, I kneel down so that we’re at eye level. “How old are you going to be on Monday?”

“Seven,” she whispers.

Twisting my head slightly, I look up at Rhys. His hands are stuffed in his pocket and his expression is unreadable, but a tiny smile cracks the corners of his lips when I scrunch my nose and say, “I hope you got her seven really amazing gifts then.”

***

Although Rhys doesn’t actually give Stacey seven gifts, I have to give him credit for his selection a few hours later after he tucks her into sleep and his mother heads to bed. As we lay in each other’s arms in the den with reruns of some HBO show playing in the background, I turn to him and say, “I begged for a karaoke machine when I was a kid.” I glance longingly at the giant machine he gave Stacey immediately after we celebrated her early birthday with pizza and cake.

“Did you get it?”

“My mom refused. She said I’d make too much noise.”

“You do make a lot of noise,” he admits and nudges his knee between my legs, rubbing it against my sex. Sliding my hand between us, I block his advances and give him a warning glare.

“I’ve already been caught giving you a blow job once this month,” I whisper. “I won’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if your mom walks in on us.” But I’m still breathless when he takes his touch from me, and I crave that dizzying satisfaction.

“You know,” he says, a serious expression on his face, “that’s the first time you’ve ever mentioned either of your parents to me.”

“Because there’s not much to tell about them.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“My mom works from home, and my dad is in sales.” I suck on the inside of my lower lip. “I love my parents, if that’s what you’re wondering, but we have issues.” Issues that began with your family, I want to say. I know that he’ll have to find out eventually, but I’m not ready yet. Especially not while we’re here under his mother’s roof, with his brother’s child sleeping in the other room.

He frames my face with his strong hands and offers me a smile that makes me weak all over. “All families have issues.”

***

As if she somehow senses that I’m out doing something I probably shouldn’t be doing, my mother calls me the next morning while Rhys drives us back to Richmond. I don’t want to answer her call with him sitting right beside me, and I plan to call her back as soon as I get back to my dorm. After she calls two times in a twenty-minute stretch of time, though, I finally answer.

“Thank God,” she whispers, her voice low and trembling, the moment she hears me. “Where have you been, Evie?”

I twist my face into a frown. “Um, why? You’re not sitting at my dorm or something, are you?” That had actually happened last year, with my dad showing up at school when I ignored his calls for too long.

“Should I be?”

Forcing out a laugh, I try to sound nonchalant, telling her, “No. I’ve been in the library studying for a test I have coming up next week.” When she lets out a sniffle, alarm bells sound in my head. “Nothing is wrong, is there?”

“No ... nothing like that. I’ve just been trying to call you. I kept getting voicemail, and I thought—”

Her voice trails off, and I can easily finish the sentence for her. She had tried to get in touch with me, and when I didn’t answer she automatically assumed something bad had happened to me—like it had to my sister. Out the corner of my eye, I look at Rhys and clench my fingers around my phone.

“I haven’t seen any missed calls from you,” I admit, which is the truth because I’ve honestly only noticed the last two. “My service isn’t always the best here. Why didn’t you leave me a voicemail? If you had I would’ve called you right back.”

“I ...” She swallows hard and then clears her throat. She lets out an uneasy laugh, and I can picture her shaking her head nervously, her hazel eyes avoiding mine as she speaks. “It wasn’t important. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. Are you still coming home for Thanksgiving?”

Her question sounds like a plea, and that scares the hell out of me. Has something new happened between her and my father? “Of course I’ll be there.” Then, I ask tentatively, “Are you sure everything is alright?” Once again she assures me that she is fine, and then she tells me she has to get ready for her book club, which I know is a lie. They’ve been meeting on Thursday nights, not Saturday mornings, for years.