The next day, I rose at dawn for my usual Sunday jog down the misty, winding streets of Harbor Village. My breath puffed in thin, transparent clouds as I sprinted down the sidewalk. It was February; the winter snows had long melted but the mornings were still chilly. But the wind was finally losing her cold edge, and the maple and oak trees were budding again. As my feet slapped the pavement, I kept my eyes trained on the green-gray hills in the distance, using them as a focus point while I concentrated on my breathing. Thoughts of homework, graduation, prom, the wedding—were all interrupted by him.

I reached a stop sign and slowed, jogging in place as I waited for a car to pass. Tired of thinking, I turned up the volume in my headphones, letting Rina Sawayama take it away. It was obvious that too much time had passed—Tyler and I weren't real friends anymore. Speculating about him only made the truth that much harder to accept. If I wanted to move on, I had to get him out of my head...

I jogged through the neighborhood, until sunrise erupted in the east. The sun began its grand ascension, spreading its golden rays through the slate-colored sky. The sunlight filtering through the cloud cover was weak, providing beauty, but not much warmth. Lowering the hood of my sweater, I stopped by an empty meadow to stretch. Purple wildflowers covered the field during warm months. My first kiss was in this field... slow and minty...

Hands stretched over my head, I groaned. So much for cooling down.

Returning to the sidewalk, I headed toward home, absorbed by the pop metal flooding my earbuds. I didn't notice the black vehicle with tinted windows until it pulled up alongside me. My heart beat in triple time even after I realized it wasn't the same car from last night. This was an obnoxious Rolls Royce stretch gleaming with a fresh wax. The window in the backseat rolled down; Tyler's smile gleamed under a pair of Ray Ban shades.

"Hello, Cabbage! It is I, your King!" he said, grinning wide as he spoke my old nickname in flamboyant Russian tones. "I have bone to pick with you!"

"That's not funny, okay, Tyler?" The last thing I needed was a reminder of Aleksandr and Bortnik. As I continued walking, the Rolls' tires crunched slow and steady.

"Can we talk?" His regular voice was smoky and charming. The same voice that entertained crowds around the globe was now seducing me. "Just you and me? You wouldn't have come to the hotel or dropped by the party if you didn't have something to say."

I came to a stop and so did the Rolls. Tyler stared back, dark brows raised, lower lip in a coaxing pout.

"You're cabbage. I'm king."

"Your majesty." Tyler bowed. "Get in."

A stranger was asleep in the Rolls. He was slumped in his seat, tie undone, dress shirt untucked, with a driver's cap covering his face. He was also snoring, loudly.

"Who is that guy?" I whispered, stepping carefully over his feet and taking the seat across from Tyler.

"That's my old driver. He was awesome. We had some shots last night so he had to call a replacement.

"That's you. Always finding new ways to break the law. How are you?"

Tyler kept smiling, but who knew what emotions were hidden behind those sunglasses. He reeked of Swisher Sheets and alcohol. It was barely nine in the morning and he was still in last night's clothes—blue jeans and a grey sweater with the hood pulled up. There was a chain around his neck, silver rings on his fingers. The boy notorious for food stains and Kool-Aid mustaches had left the Village and became a fashion statement.

"I'm always good when I'm with you."

Behind those sunglasses, Tyler was exactly who he used to be.

***

We had blueberry pancakes at a speakeasy-style diner called the Harley Sunset. Then we both went our separate ways to shower and change. I primped my curls, applied foundation and lashes, reminded myself this was not a date, then met Tyler at the Sapphire Boardwalk, smelling like my favorite perfume.

As I walked towards him, Tyler's grin spread into a crooked smile. His hair was slicked back in neat waves, the sunlight adding golden highlights. He had bling, and everything from his black, zip-up sweater to his stainless, high-top sneakers was luxury brand. But his eyes were what really caught my attention, how they lit up the second they connected with mine. Let's be real. I didn't go deep-sea diving in my closet for the cropped wrap top, my best skinny jeans, and the vintage Mary Jane pumps not expecting a compliment. What I wasn't prepared for was the way he looked at me, like I was freshly minted.

"Are you competing with me?" he said, with a teasing grin.

"Excuse me? I always look good."

Tyler chuckled as he fell in step, hands in the pockets of his jeans as we walked along the pier. In the summertime the Sapphire had an arcade and amusement rides. This October it would host a haunted house and a Halloween carnival. For now, it was mostly empty, the majority of shopping venues and street vendors standing by for warmer days. Tyler and I walked along the rail, where sunlight glinted on the water. We weren't too far from the shoreline. The first buoy bobbed far out in the distance—a red point nearly swallowed in a vast expanse of gray that matched the sky. Sometimes the whole world seemed colorless and empty.

He was talking, something about dinner and a movie, kicking it at his place. I panicked, cutting him off with the question burning on my tongue.

"Why did you come back?"

If Tyler was rattled, it didn't show. As a celebrity, he was probably used to being put on the spot.

"Honestly? I need a break from my life." He stole a quick, sideways peek. "I freaked you out. It was the flowers, wasn't it? I know, I did too much—"

"No, the flowers were a nice touch. It was my fault; I was the jerk that ran out."

I could tell by the silence that Tyler agreed.

"My dad said you stopped by yesterday. I didn't know he would be there."

"He was pretty banged up. Is he okay?"

"Yeah. It was a car accident."

"Is that what he told you?" Mr. Moore had lied to Tyler about Aleksandr. Now I was lying too.

"He didn't get the police involved—who drives a corvette with no insurance?"

"Beats me." I swallowed. Extra touch-y, I jumped for Tyler when a boy blasted past with deep brown skin and a dark, mischievous gaze, laughing wildly over his shoulder.

I didn't realize Tyler's arm was around me until I let him go. "Eat shit, Eric!" I shouted after him, my heart beating faster than his wheels could turn.

"Never trust good-looking dudes in Letterman jackets," said Tyler, casting his dark gaze down the Boardwalk. "You know him?"

"He's my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend." I took a deep breath, inhaling through my nose as the memory of the town car flashed inside my head. "He thinks he's funny."

"He kept showing up last night, at Robin's party. He obviously didn't want us to be alone."

Did he want to be alone with Robin? I bit my tongue to keep silent. "Oooh, bummer." I started walking. Tyler jogged a few steps to catch up, putting his hand on my arm and convincing me to stand still.

"That look on your face, when Eric scared you—that's how you looked last night, Aaliyah..." Tyler stepped close, lowering his head so he could look me in the eye. "What did my dad do?" He repeated my name when I didn't answer.

"He didn't touch me." I glanced at my feet, hand on my elbow, so he wouldn't see it shake. "I left because I felt guilty. I uh... I told your manager where you are. She wants me to convince you to go back to New York."

"Really? That's it?" Tyler was relieved.

"Uh-huh. Yep. You hate me, right?"

He chuckled. "That you're being honest? Of course not. I didn't tell Astrid I was leaving because I didn't want her to talk me out of staying. Besides my mom and my sister, you're the only one who's treated me the same since I got back. Ali, you make me feel like I never left, like I still have a family. I'm not going anywhere."

Feeling the swell in my heart, I opened my mouth to tell him the truth... and closed it. I couldn't do what Astrid wanted. I couldn't make him leave.

***

We stopped at a food stand on the boardwalk and bought a snack. We argued over who would pay the bill until I tossed my debit card over Tyler's head. Then we found a shaded seat in a small grove of picnic benches and sat for a while, eating bouquets of blueberry cotton candy.

"Is my tongue blue?" asked Tyler, opening wide.

I nodded.

"Shit."

Head tilted back, I dropped a piece of candy in my mouth. "So, what's it like living the lifestyle of the rich and famous?"

"I'm jaded." Tyler paused and stared far out into the distance, where the horizon met the sea. "Sometimes my life is so crazy that I feel like I could yell, and no one would notice. And then other times, it's so quiet that I'm scared to yell because then everyone would notice. Does that make sense?"

"Actually, yeah. I'm surprised, I thought your life got better when you left the Village."

"The things you hear about me in the media are only one version of the truth. My life isn't perfect. Everyone wants something from me, I'm constantly fighting my label for creative control over my music, I've got my dad and my manager breathing down my neck..." Tyler leaned forward. Green eyes fastened on mine; he covered my hand with warm fingers. "My life didn't get better when I left the Village, Ali. It got better the day my family met yours."

This was a rare side of Tyler: the side where he was serious, and honest, and didn't treat everything like a joke.

"I made mistakes while I was gone," he said, gently removing his hand. "That's why I asked you to come to the hotel—so I could fix things. I live there now—I want it to feel like home."

Once upon a time, Tyler felt like home too.

I glanced down the boardwalk. Eric was rounding the corner ahead, whizzing past on his skateboard. Tyler followed my gaze. I knew things had taken a turn when he stood, dropping his cotton candy on the table.

"I hope your boyfriend can swim," he said, striding backwards with a mischievous grin that usually led to getting grounded.

"Seriously, Tyler, don't!" I scrambled after Tyler, who was already halfway across the boardwalk, hands jammed in his pockets like he wasn't up to no good. Before I could stop him, Tyler shoved Eric off his skateboard, sending him toppling over the rail. I heard the splash and peered over the balustrade, breathing a sigh of relief when Eric's head popped above the waves. Treading water, he shook the wetness from his face and cursed.

Tyler waved. He was pretty pleased with himself for having done something so reckless.

"Tyler, it's February—the water is freezing! He's not gonna let this go!"

"Live a little, Preston."

"Thanks for the advice," I said, and pushed Tyler over the railing.

***