The drive is dull; mostly music and hardly any talking.

I think Nova is nervous to meet my family – more nervous than she cares to admit.

Even though she's not my legitimate girlfriend, I can understand why she'd be nervous. She's here to make an impression and I know impressions matter to her; she wants my family to like and accept her. It's a normal want, so I'm not judging her.

Although, I do think she's overreacting. My family accepts anyone into their lives. If they believe in a different religion, have a different skin colour, are from a different country – they don't care. We're all people that live in the same world.

When we arrive at my house and I've parked in the driveway, I tell Nova to relax and assure her that my family is going to love her. Which I actually believe to be true because I've had an attitude since I was a kid and Nova seems to be the only girl that's not afraid to shut it down. My parents will love that.

Nova gives me a smile that doesn't meet her eyes and also fails to convince me she believes anything I've said to her.

"Seriously, Novs," I say, resting a hand on her shoulder. I give it a light squeeze. "Everything's gonna be fine." I flash her my best smile.

Now, I've been the victim of many glares from Nova Elliot, but never have I felt so...scared. She looks like a timebomb that's about to blow any second. My own eyes widen the slightest bit as she moves – I'm scared she's going to backhand me for...for whatever I said this time.

Thankfully, she doesn't.

Instead, she leans forward until our faces are only inches apart. "If you ever call me that again, I will tell your parents what the hell is really going on with your love life, and I will leave, Warren," she spits. "And don't think, for one second, that I am joking."

She doesn't give me a chance to consider the threat she's thrown at me; she gets out of the rental vehicle and slams the door behind her. I stare at the now-empty passenger seat, wondering what the hell just happened. All I did was use a nickname. I don't understand what I did wrong. She looked like she wanted to fucking murder me.

I hear the back of the vehicle open, and I look over my shoulder to see her wrestling with the suitcase. After the little exchange that just happened, I feel like I should let her haul the suitcase up the stairs herself. If she thinks she can be a bitch to me and get away with it, she's wrong. But I know I can't let that happen – Mom and Dad would kill me if they saw the girl doing all the work.

I get out of the vehicle and slam the door, partly because I'm pissed at Nova and partly because I know she's not going to explain what I did wrong. I've tried many times to crack her shell, make her tell me about her past, but she continuously shuts me down. But, with this nickname shit, I'm guessing there was once someone that used to call her that. This reaction is somewhat similar to when I questioned her about geocaching.

I frown in thought – could these two events possibly be correlated? Was she with someone before she moved to Vancouver? Is that why she left Alberta? Did I strike a sensitive spot?

Without saying a word to her, mainly because of my ego, I take the suitcase from her and gesture to the front steps. We walk up in silence, which gives me time to ponder how much I've missed my old house. It's huge, with a detailed grey exterior and flawless white trim. It has a Hamptons-style to it, but there's also a mix of country and nautical, making it perfect for the East Coast.

The more I stare at it, the more I begin to realize just how much I've missed this place. And it's not just because I'm a family boy. It's also because I've missed the feeling of freedom; I've missed feeling small when I stand beside the ocean.

I'm about to open the door when Nova says, "I'm sorry."

I freeze. "What?" I blurt.

Her apologizing to me is unusual. So unusual that she even seems shocked.

"I, um, I'm sorry for snapping at you," she clarifies, gaze staying focused on the ground. Her face is turned away from mine, but I still catch a glimpse of the haunted look in her eyes. It's almost as if she's replaying a memory in her head.

That's when I realize I still don't know much about Nova Elliot. After attempting to talk to her so many times, only to result in being told to mind my own business, I gave up on poking her for information.

And I have to admit, it saddens me a little.

After all the time we've been forced to share, you'd think we'd know a little more.

Aside from that, the lack of knowledge also worries me. If my family asks me anything about her, I'm going to come up short. I recount what I do know: Nova is a year younger than me, she's from High River, Alberta, and she always wearing that goddamned leather jacket. I know her hair is auburn and reaches just past her shoulders. I know she's stubborn and indifferent.

But that's never going to be enough – especially with my family. All I can do is hope they give us a chance to settle down before they hammer us with questions.

"Warren?"

"Yeah?" I blink.

"I'm sorry."

"Why don't you like that nickname?" I blurt.

She looks at me. "One day, I promise I will tell you. But I don't want to right now. Maybe after this trip is over...I don't know."

Her words sound childish, but I bite back any response thanks to her tone of voice. It's quiet, tinged with reluctance and despair. Something has definitely happened to her. If a nickname can shake her up this badly, then it holds power.

I'm definitely going to have to talk to Julia or Easton – maybe they'll know something.

In the end, I decide to drop the topic. We already have enough on our plate. We don't need more drama. "Are you ready to meet my family?" I ask.

Nova nods, and I open the door.

When we step inside, we're greeted by the scent of my mom's candles. I smile to myself. I guess some things never change.

"I figured you came from a rich family, but I never expected something like this," Nova says.

I glance at her. Her eyes are full of admiration and wonder. I feel as though her comment should offend me – she really expected me to be that stereotypical rich-boy man-whore – but it's kind of true.

"Why does it smell so good in here?" she asks.

I set the suitcase down, and then close the door. It's much cooler here, which helps me relax a little. Maybe I'm stressing for no reason. Maybe everything is going to be okay. "Mom has a thing for vanilla candles," I reply. "At least one is always lit."

Nova nods and then reverts to taking off her shoes. I follow suit, telling Nova to follow me after we're finished. As we walk, I watch her from the corner of my eye. She's in awe about this house and I find it kind of cute. From the grand staircase that leads to the second floor, to the polished dark oak hardwood, to the high-vaulted ceilings – everything about this place screams sophisticated. Everything is white and accented with black and splashes of red.

Just before we enter the kitchen, Nova grabs my hand. I revel in how tiny it is compared to mine; how much softer her skin is. I look down at her. She looks up at me and shrugs.

"Believable?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," I stutter, running my free hand through my hair.

We exchange a glance and my stomach drops. She looks worried, which worries me because she is usually silently confident and never shows any trace of nervousness. The problem is, I can't stop what's about to happen. It's inevitable. So I gently tug her forward.

As soon as we step into the kitchen, the familiarity of everything soothes me. Hazel, Mom, and Dad are standing in the middle of the gleaming kitchen, on the opposite side of a massive marble island and beneath a stunning pendant lighting fixture.

On the island, I see different binders and books that have an alarming amount of pink Post-It notes stuck between the pages. The sun is streaking through the large window that resides over the sink, illuminating the stark-white cabinetry.

My shoulders relax a little more.

Mom is the first one to notice me and Nova. And, when she does, her familiar blue eyes light up. She sets down a pen and runs over to us.

"Warren!" she exclaims, pulling me into a hug. "I thought you weren't coming until Sunday. It's so good to see you!"

I hug my mom back, unable to stop myself from smiling like an idiot. "We decided to come early – we were getting really sick of eating out."

Before I can say another word, my mom is dragging Nova across the kitchen to meet my dad and Hazel. The introductions are as informal as informal can get: hugs are exchanged, Nova is told to call my parents by their first names, and they begin questioning her. Nova, although she's never been one to answer questions, is polite and answers each one with grace. I learn a few things about her, too: her birthday, the names of her parents (Robert and Jane), and the names of her older brothers (Jordan, Liam, and Matthew).

"Would you like anything to drink?" Dad asks.

"Uh, water would be great, thanks," Nova replies.

While Dad is getting her a glass of water, Hazel hones in on her and starts up a conversation about the upcoming wedding.

"Have you ever been to a wedding?" Hazel asks.

"Yes," Nova replies. "Once. My oldest brother, Matthew, got married a couple of years ago. So I suppose I have some experience when it comes to weddings. I was one of the bridesmaids."

Hazel studies Nova for a moment and then smiles. "Perfect. I was hoping my maid of honour would have experience with weddings and know how to put the final pieces together. This is great."

Nova's body stiffens. "M-maid of honour?" she stutters, looking at me for help.

I stare at her. I've been caught off-guard, too. Hazel never said anything about Nova being the maid of honour. I was under the impression that she just wanted to meet my girlfriend.

Shit.

Hazel smiles. "The genders differentiate when it comes to law school," she explains. "The year I started, there weren't many girls in my classes. So most of my friends are boys. That's why I was so happy when Warren agreed that he'd bring you here. It's been stressful, planning the wedding with Greyson and my family. I need a fresh set of eyes. I can't wait to get to know you, Nova. Warren's a picky boy when it comes to girls. There must be something special about you."

All Nova does is nod, her eyes still locked with mine. And that's when I realize what she's silently asking me to do: Stop Haze from making her do something like this.

I clear my throat. "You failed to mention that on the phone, Haze. Don't you think Nova would have liked to know your plans for her? It's a little overwhelming. Her being the maid of honour when she hardly knows you is kind of crazy."

"Maybe," Hazel shrugs. "But is there a better way to get to know my little brother's girlfriend?"

"Surely you have some other friends that could be the maid of honour," I subtly argue.

Hazel frowns and then looks at Nova. "What do you think, Nova? I'd be flattered if you'd be my maid of honour, but if it's too much, then I suppose I could find someone else."

Nova gnaws on her bottom lip as she thinks, only interrupting the silence to thank my dad for the glass of water. "Thanks, Cam."

I suppress an eye roll. Didn't Nova tell me nicknames were pointless? Sometimes I really don't understand how her mind works.

After a couple of sips, Nova shrugs and says, "Being a bridesmaid didn't teach me much, but I will do what I can. It'll be good for me to have something to distract myself with until the wedding."

The words sting; I know exactly what she means. The more time she spends with my sister, the less time she'll have to deal with me. I know Nova detests me and all, but come on. Does she really need to use subtle comments to hurt me?

"Wonderful," Mom says, clapping her hands together. "Well, now that you're here, I think it's time someone gave you a proper tour of the house. Nova, follow Cam and I."

Before exiting the kitchen, Nova shoots a glare at me. I'm tempted to roll my eyes and say, Yeah, whatever, I owe you big time for this, but I bite my tongue. We've started off decently and I don't need my ego to get in the way and ruin things.

When it's just Hazel and me in the kitchen, she bounds over to me and gives me a hug that makes me feel like my lungs are about to collapse. "It's so good to see you," she says.

I'm just about to reply when she breaks the hug and steps back to look at me. I notice she has a look of disappointment in her blue eyes. Hazel and I – we look like siblings, with our hair colour, eye colour, facial bone structure, and height.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "You may be fooling Mom and Dad, but you're not fooling me. What did you have to pull out of your ass to make Nova agree to this?"

My face pales. How the hell does she know?

As if she can read my mind, she says, "Please. The two of you looked severely uncomfortable when you walked into the kitchen. And don't think you're the only one I talk to. East has been keeping me updated on everything."

Well, fuck me.

My life on campus was supposed to be a secret. Damn Easton for being close to me and my family. Hazel has always treated him like the second sibling she never had. He failed to mention they were still in touch after we moved to Vancouver for university.

"What exactly did East tell you?"

"Almost everything I need to know," she replies.

I exhale deeply. "You haven't told Mom and Dad, have you?"

"No," Hazel replies. "And I don't plan on it. But you need to know that I am not a fan of this. Nova seems like a nice girl, and I don't like that you're using her."

Anger rushes through me. "Goddammit, Haze! I didn't force her to do anything. I proposed the idea and she agreed. It wouldn't have happened if you would all quit hounding me about having a girlfriend."

"You sound like a child," she says.

"Shut up," I retort.

"Seriously, though. How did you convince her?"

"If East told you everything, then why are you asking me?"

"I wanted to hear this part from your mouth," she shrugs.

I sigh and rub my temples. "Nova's taking some weird journalism program and money is a problem for her, so I offered to pay for the next semester. She agreed. It's as simple as that."

Hazel looks at me with the same disappointment. I can't say it doesn't bother me – there's something about my older sister not approving of my choices that makes me feel bad. Yeah, I am using Nova, but she's using me, too. By agreeing, she gets the money and she's able to explore the eastern side of Canada for free. I'd call that even.

Hazel sighs. "Look, all I'm asking is that you don't hurt her, okay? She's nice and I like her so far. And I don't want to know if you're using her for the sex just like you do with the random chicks you pick up at the club. I can't believe Nova would agree to let you have the dorm room every Friday night."

Well, I'm never telling Easton anything ever again. Little bastard can't even keep his mouth shut.

We stand in silence for the next few minutes, and I think about the past couple days with Nova and the small things that have happened between us. I don't know where it's coming from, but the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt her. She's done a damn good job of putting up with me, so it's the least I can do.

"I'm not going to hurt Nova," I say softly.

"I should hope not. Imagine what Mom and Dad would think of you if they knew what you were doing."

I cringe as Nova and Mom and Dad step back into the kitchen.

For some reason, Nova walks over to me and grips my hand tightly. I think about what she said about liking the familiarity of things. I suppose I am the only familiar thing in the room at the moment. I grip her hand to provide some reassurance.

Mom suggests that we head to the living room to unwind. We all nod in agreement, and when Mom and Dad have their backs turned to us, I peek at Hazel.

Her face tells me everything.

I can't screw this up.