The door behind Leah closes, and I continue staring at nothing in particular, unable to move a single muscle of my suddenly useless body. I feel foggy-headed, except I am not drunk. I am very much aware of what has just happened.

She asked me if I loved her, and the question made me freeze and then behave like an asshole. I needed time to process her words and think of an answer. I fucked up instead, just like I knew I would.

My first instinct is to call Mac, but then I remember he is taking Annie out tonight to celebrate the end of her exams. Pops gave me the afternoon off, and spending it with the only person I want to spend it with isn't an option anymore because I hurt her. My childish reaction hurt her, and I would have gone to her and begged her to forgive me if I had something better to offer. I don't.

I grab my phone and search for the name I need. He picks up immediately like I know he would.

"Hey, Jim," I say, clearing my throat. "Are you busy?"

"Never busy for you. What's up? Are you okay?"

I hear the concern in my brother's voice and rush to reassure him, "Yeah, I just need to talk to someone."

"In person?"

"Ideally, yeah."

"'Kay," Jim says. "Are you gonna ride here, or do you want me to send the chauffeur?"

"The chauffeur? Since when-," I start asking, but then decide it's not the time to do it.

"I'll ride. See you in a couple of hours."

"Don't speed up, little fucker. I'll be at my condo. You know how to let yourself in."

We hang up, and I leave my house in no time, glancing at Leah's window as I get on my bike. My stomach roils the entire time I'm riding down the highway, and I only feel calmer when I'm in front of my brother's building.

I punch in the code for his garage and park my Fat Boy next to Jim's car before taking the elevator to his floor.

My shoes squeak on the marble as I stroll to the wooden door and press on the doorbell. I have the key, but using it feels like an invasion of Jim's privacy.

The door swings open, and my big brother is standing on the other side of it, dressed in some jeans and a white tee. Jim's hair looks slightly rumpled as if he'd been raking his fingers through it before I arrived.

We hug, and my brother motions for me to follow him to the kitchen.

Jim grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and calls someone.

"Dec, I'll be heading out in five," I hear Jim say. Then, he hangs up and grabs a jacket from one of the chairs.

"Come on, little fucker."

I follow my brother out of the building. A car is parked at the entrance, and as we get in, I see the driver. The guy must be in his late thirties. He swivels his head around and smiles at us. "Where to?"

Jim nods toward me. "He's Brian, my little brother. To The Rooftop."

"I'm Declan," the guy says and shakes my hand before he starts the car, and it pulls into the evening traffic.

Jim and I keep quiet. Entranced, I am lost in the sight of the yellow and neon lights dotting the streets. It's dark, but not too late yet. The sky is dark blue instead of black. I can't help thinking about Leah and taking her to the city on a proper date. A night out surrounded by the city lights is something I've wanted to do with her since she told me she'd never done it.

The car halts next to what looks like a club. We get out of it, and Jim leads the way to the entrance. He fist-bumps the bouncer, and the guy lets us in.

The dance floor throbs with music, and some people are dancing in the middle of it despite the early hour.

Jim doesn't stop there. He crosses the hall in purposeful strides and punches a button to call the elevator.

When the door rolls open, we get into the cabin. I realize the name of the local isn't random, as Jim's finger lingers on the top floor button.

As soon as we're there, it becomes clear why my brother chose the place, which is quiet and seems almost intimate. It's a bar with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the night city. Small tables are everywhere, and we take a seat at one of them.

"Jack?" Jim asks.

I nod, and my brother places our order with the waiter who seems to know him as well.

Our tumblers are in front of us in no time. The young guy leaves our drinks on the table and stalks off to give us privacy.

"So, what's up?" asks Jim.

"I'm still getting used to your fame." I chuckle, swiping my gaze over the almost luxurious decor of the place Jim chose.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it," says my brother. "I like this bar, and I know if I need a drink, I can come here, and nobody will bother me. You didn't answer my question."

I take a sip of the whiskey, enjoying the familiar burn as the amber liquid slides down my throat.

"I fucked up with Leah," I say. "Badly."

Jim frowns. "How?"

"She started to talk about college and shit. I told her I wasn't going to do it. She is, Jim, and that's awesome. She's smart, and she deserves more than the life she can get if she doesn't study. And fuck, I tried to be supportive, but she doesn't get college is not an option for me."

Jim's green eyes peer into mine. "Why?"

"Fuck, you too?"

"Don't ask me for advice if you don't wanna hear it. So, why?"

"Because I tried, and-"

Jim studies the ice in his tumbler. "You didn't, Brian. School isn't college. You were young, still are, but sixteen and nineteen are ages apart."

"I know it's not for me," I say.

"What is?"

"What I'm doing now."

Jim shakes his head. "That's our Dad's dream. Dad comes from a humble family of workers. He couldn't afford to go to college, but he wanted to. You, on the other hand, have options. You wanna fix bikes? Fine. Do it as a side gig to be able to pay for your stuff."

"It's a full-time job, not a side gig."

Letting out a sigh, Jim focuses his eyes on my face. "See, it's a full-time job because you need to keep busy, and yeah, I know you love it. Nobody can force you to do shit you don't wanna do, and I'm not trying to. I just think that you are lost, and you probably don't know what your options are. You're a smart guy, and you can put that brain of yours to good use."

"You're doing what you love, and everyone is cool with it."

"I'm not you. I'm not that smart. I worked for it for years, and I did study for a degree, if you remember. It's always good to have options."

I take another sip and look at my hand holding the tumbler. "I'm afraid of another disappointment, okay? I'm afraid of getting bored and wasting time and not fitting in. I don't want to get depressed again."

"Then study something challenging. Find something you feel passionate about like I do about music."

"It's not easy."

Jim nods. "I know. But here's the thing. Nothing is easy if it's worth it. Only meaningless shit is. No relationship is easy. No job is easy."

"She just pushed me as Mom did back then, you know? I told her we would do the long-distance thing. I don't want to break up with her, college or not. We're good together. But no. Kitten just had to ask me if I loved her."

"Poor thing," Jim says. His face is serious, and it's hard to tell what the fucker thinks.

"Poor thing?"

"The fact that she needs to ask is proof that you never showed her how you feel, little fucker."

"I am not a dick. I'm affectionate with her, and I think I treat her right, Jim. And damn, isn't saying that I want us to be together and last enough for her to understand it's not meaningless to me?"

"So, what did you answer?" Jim's eyes peer intrusively into mine, and I feel young and stupid under his scrutiny.

"Nothing. Well, I asked her if she loved me."

"You just fucked up even more, then. Again, poor thing."

"Oh, fuck you. You're saying shit as if you never fucked up with a girl in your life."

My brother looks out of the window and bites his lip. "See, I am fucking up right now. I met someone. She's special. And it's not some cliche every guy says. It's true. She's warm, and she's smart, and she's kind. And so beautiful, but not in silicone tits and lips kind of way. This shit is new and exciting. I will be twenty-three in no time, and I've never felt this way before. And I just know it will all go to shit once she knows me for real. But you, Brian, you don't have paps watching your every step. Your face isn't in fucking tabloids. Chicks don't fuck you cause you're rich and famous. You have a beautiful girl who probably loves you, cares about you and your future, and wants the best for you because you are you, issues and all. You will be a fool if you screw up a genuine relationship just because you're scared."

"She's special to me too, Jim. I care about her, and it's a first. She's my first thought when I wake up and my last one before I go to bed. I have fun with her, and I trust her, and I like her."

"Then show her you do, Brian. Give her something even if it's not those three words. Love needs time, and maybe it's too early for it, although I think your fear is what's holding you back."

"So, I just tell her how I feel without, you know, the L-word?"

Jim downs his drink and chuckles. "Basically, yeah. Grow a pair and show her she matters to you unless you wanna lose her, of course."

"I don't want to. I'm terrified to."

"As I said, put on the big boy panties."

"Fuck you." I laugh, and so does Jim.

We talk shit all night, downing one shot after another. I've never been the one to have deep convos, but maybe that also changed.

I sleep at my brother's. Jim and I have breakfast together, and I buy a huge bouquet of roses before heading back home.

I know Leah is special to me, and I know I will be with her even if she goes to college and moves away. I just hope the flowers and my apologies will be enough for her to forgive me.