Thomas shook his head. “When are you dumbasses going to learn that you can’t go off and sleep with someone the second you’re rejected? It’s not going to make you feel better. Nothing will make you feel better but time.”

“Is that what made you feel better?” Taylor asked.

My breath caught.

Thomas craned his neck and glanced back at me. “Maybe now isn’t the best time, Taylor.”

“Sorry. I just…I need to know—in case she doesn’t show. I can’t feel like that again, man. It feels like death. Liis, do you know how to get over someone?”

“I, um…I’ve yet to have my heart broken.”

“Really?” Taylor asked, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

I nodded. “I didn’t date much in high school, but it’s avoidable. One can analyze behaviors and observe markers that tip off the end of any relationship. It’s not that hard to calculate risk.”

“Whoa,” Taylor said, looking to Thomas. “You’ve got your hands full with this one.”

“Liis has yet to figure out that it’s not about math,” Thomas said with a smile. “Love isn’t about predictions or behavioral markers. It just happens, and you have no control.”

I frowned. In the last three weeks, I’d had a glimpse of what Thomas described, and it was becoming obvious that it was going to be something I would have to get used to.

“So, you’ve only dated guys who didn’t make you feel too much,” Taylor said.

“Definitely no one I was…invested in.”

“Are you invested now?” Taylor asked.

Even from the back, I could see the grin on Thomas’s face.

“You’re going to let your little brother do your dirty work?” I asked.

“Just answer the question,” Thomas said.

“I’m invested,” I said.

Taylor and Thomas traded glances.

Then, Thomas turned to me. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve run the numbers. I’m not going to break your heart.”

“Oh,” Taylor said, “intellectual foreplay. I don’t know what the fuck y’all are talking about, but I’m feeling a little uncomfortable right now.”

Thomas smacked the back of Taylor’s head.

“Hey! There will be no molesting the driver on this trip!” Taylor said, rubbing the sting from the back of his head.

The plane left the runway just after sunrise. Flight was an amazing thing. In the morning, we could see our breath, and just being outside had hurt our skin. In the afternoon, we were peeling off layers and putting on sunscreen to shield our faces from the bright Caribbean sun.

Thomas opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony of our second-floor room at The Ritz-Carlton where Travis and Abby were getting married—again.