As for me? I’m living the rock-n’-roll life, clearly, thankyouverymuch.

“The leper colony. He read a book about it.” Ryner tsks on the other line.

“You mean he watched a video,” I deadpan.

Ryner laughs humorlessly. “Probably, man. Probably.”

“Did you tell him there aren’t any lepers there now?” I ask.

Something is obviously going on with Ashton Richards, and no one is saying anything, because everyone has a horse in the race to produce his new album.

“He’s not listening. He’s gotta check into rehab.”

“No shit.”

But I don’t further promote the idea of Richards checking in, because that’d kill the entire Rory Project. I’d have to finish the songs and hand them to Jeff. Which means Rory would run back to America before we sort our situation. That’s simply not a possibility I am willing to entertain.

“I still think we can chain him to my sofa and make it work,” I say.

“Yeah? Go pick him up, then. I’ll throw you a nice bonus when this is all over.”

“Ryner.” I squeeze my fingertips into my eyelids, smearing pink dye all over my face. “I can’t leave Tolka. It’s in our contract. You know exactly why.”

We go back and forth a few more minutes before Ryner asks me how Callum is doing in that smug way that implies I have a lot to lose if I say no. I ask him who the feck Callum is, and he tells me he’s Rory’s boyfriend.

I know that, but I like to pretend he means so little to me, his name hasn’t registered. I know what Ryner is doing here. He’s reminding me that Greece is a great opportunity to whisk Rory away from Callum, who is planning to come here tomorrow, on New Year’s Eve, and save their relationshit.

I mean, ship. Relationship. Not like I shat all over it or anything.

Look, I want to be better than knowingly sabotaging their relationship.

Actually…no. That’s not true. It sounds like something honorable to say, but the truth is, I don’t want to be honorable about this duel. I would kick and bite and break every man-rule to have Rory. Throw sand in his eyes. Anything to win.

’Tis the truth, and the worst part is, I still sleep at night like a baby. (Though I don’t know why they say that. Babies are horrible sleepers. Sleeping like a knocked-out drunken sod sounds more accurate.)

Once Ryner and I come to agreement, I slide Rory a napkin with the news under my bedroom door and slip out of the house to say my goodbyes before I leave Tolka, even if it’s just for twenty-four hours.