“All right,” Andre began in his most patient voice. “What was that about? Don’t tell me it was nothing because there were tears in my sister’s eyes. The only reason I’m not running after her is that I know she’ll be stubborn as hell and tell me it’s nothing. You’re the weak link here. You’re the one who won’t shut me out. What happened between the two of you?”

Damn it. He should have checked his phone but he’d been distracted by Sylvie. He was pretty much always distracted by Sylvie these days. She’d become his first thought in the morning and the last thing he saw in his mind before he managed to get to sleep. “We’ve spent time together this semester. You know my credits got messed up and I had to take a history course I was missing.”

Dre nodded. “Yeah, you told me Sylvie was in the class. Somehow I don’t think she was crying about an argument over some assignment.”

“We never argue.” They might debate, but his relationship with Sylvie was one of the most peaceful he’d ever had. Well, maybe peaceful was the wrong word. He didn’t feel peace around her. He felt contentment and happiness and the need to please her.

Lust. He felt a whole lot of lust.

“No, you’ve always been kind to Sylvie.” Dre’s expression had turned distinctly wary. “Just how kind are you planning on being to my sister?”

Rene didn’t want to lose his best friend. All of his life he’d been surrounded by people—family, his father’s employees, people who needed things from his family—and yet had felt so alone. Andre had been the one friend he could count on. Dre had sat next to him in first grade, and when he’d asked Rene if he wanted to come over to play, that had been one of the best days ever. They’d been an odd pair—the rich white kid and the black boy from a hardworking blue-collar family. But oddly enough the Daroises and the Martines were both pillars of Papillon, both families having been there for generations. They understood each other, even as children. This friendship had been the bedrock of his life.

He couldn’t lie to Dre. Even if it meant losing him. “I’m crazy about your sister.”

Dre sighed. “You think I don’t know that? You’ve always been crazy about her.”

“I have not.”

Dre’s warm brown eyes rolled, and he crossed to the big bar that dominated one wall of the living room. “I wasn’t saying you were perving on her when she was underage. I’m saying there was always something between the two of you. You’ve always liked her even when she was a snot-nosed kid. I’m going to need a drink to have this conversation.”