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smirk—and I’ve been doing a lot of that lately—and I nod my head. “Thanks for the advice.”
    She lifts her shoulders slightly, and my gaze drops to her giant cluster of blackbird tattoos. Even though she knows I’m looking, she doesn’t move to cover them up like she used to. “You’re the one who wasted your ten days with her and got only eight because of your stupidity.”
    “And thanks for shooting me in the balls. Anything else you want to hurl at me while you’re being a shithead?”
    Her eyebrows draw together in sympathy. “I’ll come tomorrow to do, you know, actual work.”
    “Trying to tell me something?”
    She walks backwards into the hallway, her hands still in her pockets. “That it would be nice for you to get off your ass and make music and give me some errands to run so I can get paid.”
    Noted. I wait until she and Brenna are gone, and I see her tiny car leave my driveway, to go downstairs. I’m in the middle of ordering lunch when I realize just how important Kylie’s words to me are. How they’re what I’ve been looking for.
    I forget about lunch, forget everything else, as I write the first two lines of Sienna’s song. A song that I don’t know if she’ll ever hear, but one I’ve got to write so I can get her the fuck out of my system.
    “I’m the one who wasted ten days, trading it in for eight
    And I know you’re probably saying, fuck me right now . . .”
    Before I grab my guitar and put music to the words, I send Kylie a text.
    11:08 AM: Be here first thing tomorrow. Shit to do.
    She takes awhile to respond, but when she finally does, there are no words on the screen. Just a few symbols in the shape of a heart.

Chapter Seven
    Kylie Wolfe

    I’ve spent enough time with my older brother to know precisely when he’s lying to me. Lucas is usually too direct for his own damn good, so it’s easy to pick up when he’s being an evasive bull-shitter. When Brenna and I left his house yesterday afternoon, I was certain that he came home after drinking the night before—and after seeing Sienna with another man—by himself. Even if he’d wanted to get Sienna out of his system, or get back at her, he hadn’t slept with someone else.
    Lucas is a lot of things—an asshole, a liar, and secretive—but he’s not a cheater.
    Plus, I’d seen it in his eyes when he told me that she moved on, and that along with hearing the break in his voice had made my heart skip a beat.
    My brother is in love. Chaotic, painful, heartbreaking love with a woman who loves him back, and they’re not doing shit about it.
    And I hate that they’re not—hell, probably just as much as Lucas himself. It’s ate at me since the time I left Lucas’s place yesterday to this morning, and I’m on the verge of calling him out the moment I show up to work. I’ve got my rant prepared. I’m even ready to hear him throw my own shit into my face.
    Except, after I let myself into Lucas’s house, and I find him in his infamous music room with his notebook beside of him and his acoustic guitar pulled out, I find the words I was going to say getting caught in the back of my throat.
    I stand in the doorway, listening intently as he strums his Gibson and sings along, his voice so quiet that I can’t hear just what he’s saying. What I do know right away is that it’s a love song. And I can almost guarantee that it’s for her.
    Lucas plays a few more notes and then sits the guitar to the side. He scribbles something—probably lyrics—inside of his notebook and then lifts his gaze to mine, staring me down with expectant hazel eyes. “You’ve got something on your mind, Ky.”
    “You’re writing her a song.” I walk inside the room and sit down across from him. I lean closer to the ottoman that’s separating us in hopes that I’ll be able to get a good look at what he’s working on before he tells me to fuck off. He places the notebook in front of me and slides it in my direction until it bumps against