It was the dude who’d been chewing his face off the night she met Willow. Psycho. He looked a lot better than he had that night, clean-shaven and bright-eyed. He tapped his chest. “I’m Patrick. Where are you heading?”

“I… don’t know.” Eden swiped a hand across her face. “I’m fine though.”

He squinted at her. “Can I help you? Do you wanna find Willow?”

Just hearing his name was a kick to the chest.

“I need to get away from here,” she said. “I need my friend Cheryl to pick me up.”

“Right. Can you call her?”

“My phone died, and I don’t know her number.”

He pulled out his phone. “Cheryl’s the mate you were with the night you met Willow, yeah? The pretty one?”

Eden gave him a look.

He held up his hand. “No funny business. It’s just lucky. We already follow each other on Instagram. I can call her.”

A second later his phone was at his ear. “Cheryl? Hi. Thanks for picking up. I’m with your mate, Eden. She needs someone to come give her a ride…”

Five minutes later, she and Patrick were sitting by the front gate waiting for Cheryl.

“You can go back to the party,” she told him, hunting through her purse for her vape. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s okay, you might need to call her again.” Patrick folded his arms across his chest. He was jacked, but unlike Willow, entirely unintimidating. It was probably because of his big brown eyes. How had anyone sold him pills? It would be like giving chocolate to a puppy.

“Is everything all right with you and Willow?” he asked.

She found her vape and discovered it was empty. She shoved it back in her bag, praying Cheryl had cigarettes on her. “Nothing’s okay with me and Willow.”

He nodded. “I know he’s headed to Queensland, that’s gotta be hard. It’s gonna be hard for me.”

Eden looked at her hand. In all the drama, she hadn’t processed that he wouldn’t be in Melbourne anymore. So even if she came home for her sister’s stupid wedding, he wouldn’t be around. “Shit.”

“He fucking loves you. Willow. I’ve never seen him so into someone.”

Eden’s chest ached. “Isn’t that his thing? Falling for everyone at a million miles an hour?”

Patrick shook his head. “Not the way he fell for you. You make him serious. You make him not want to fuck around.”

There was so little light pollution above them that Eden could see galaxies, suns, planets, even maybe other universes. But in all that infinite space, the only thing that mattered right now was one tall, drunk redhead.

“I love him too,” she told the stars. “But it’s just not the right time.”