He paused to hold the door for some patrons, light catching his expression. His eyes had transformed from pleading to resigned, like a world-weary soldier returning from a battle he hadn’t won. His head was high even as his shoulders slumped, and he was perhaps more regal in defeat than he had been when he’d been so sure I’d agree. In that instant, he looked exactly like Prince Neptune. April would have freaked at the resemblance and would have begged him to cosplay with us. She always was a sucker for the story lines where Neptune faced losing odds and had to claw his way back from the edge of defeat. Maybe…

No. Not going to go there. Milo was no prince and certainly not anyone I needed in my life.

I was not going to be swayed by his worried eyes. Angry Milo and jerk Milo were easy to dismiss, but sad Milo had always managed to get under my skin. This time, though, I wasn’t going to let him. He’d managed to get himself into a heck of a mess, but he’d have to get himself out again without me. I turned my back on him, same as he’d done with me all those years ago. But even as I turned, my stomach cramped, the battle between the urge to shut him out and the urge to swoop in with the rescue way more real than I would have liked.

Chapter Two

Milo

The cold of a New Jersey winter smacked me in the face as soon as I exited the game shop, but the chill in the air was nothing compared to Jasper’s frosty expression when I’d asked him for help.

You think I’ve forgotten? Jasper clearly hadn’t. Every mistake and transgression from high school had been there in his eyes. Every time I could have done things differently. All the moments I’d replayed in my head for years. Jasper wasn’t the only one with a long memory. I remembered, too, remembered his cluttered basement playroom, the hours and hours we’d spent there. We’d been so in sync back then, him ready with the exact piece I’d needed at the perfect moment to complete our latest Lego build. Everything had been so much simpler, no need to ask…

Hell. I paused in front of the stationery store a few doors down to try to regroup. I hated needing help. Hated it. I’d needed far too much assistance in the last year, and every time I resolved to fix my own problems, some new situation would crop up to kick me where it hurt. And okay, some of that was my own doing. I could admit that. I’d been drinking the night before and was distracted in a way I didn’t really want to examine too closely right then.

I’m so glad you came.