“Sean is insignificant,” Remi said, nose scrunched as if the very thought of the man disgusted her, which was accurate. Remi hadn’t minced words when she, along with the entire island, had found out about Sean’s infidelity. “I should warn you, however, that Keiran’s here.”

“What?” Could she not be free of him?

“Have you forgotten he’s in the music biz too? He and his fellow producer got nominated for their Hopscotch Riddim.”

Cherisse hadn’t forgotten what Keiran did for a living, couldn’t forget when her experience with men in the industry had left a bad taste in her mouth, but it had slipped her mind that he’d be present. Dammit.

“Who’s Keiran?” Reba asked, dark brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. “And that riddim is wicked, though.”

Great, another Keiran King fan. The riddim was a hit, and Cherisse found herself grooving along to that particular background instrumental accompaniment on the various soca tracks that radio stations had been blasting since last year, but she’d never admit it. Whenever she listened to the songs on the riddim, she conveniently wiped all knowledge of Keiran having a hand in the music from her mind.

“He’s her nemesis,” Remi said helpfully. “Since secondary school, actually. Although...” She tapped her cheek. “I think it’s nemesis by proximity. I didn’t get along with his twin. Hardcore rival back in the day.”

“Not the only reason. Called me stuck-up plenty times just because I didn’t hang with them like Ava did. Making it out like I was too good for them when my ass was failing at school. I didn’t have time to fawn over a bunch of annoying fellas. He didn’t even know one shit about me but made all these assumptions based on gossip from the street. I wish he’d fall into a black hole,” Cherisse added, getting heated at just the thought of seeing Keiran right now. The damn island was small, but Jesus, she’d gone so long without seeing him around, and now, he was just everywhere.

“Wow.” Reba raised a brow at her rant. “Why haven’t I heard about him before?”

Cherisse didn’t like the glint in Reba’s eyes. “He’s not worth my breath.”

“Is he cute, though?” Reba asked Remi, completely ignoring Cherisse’s rolled eyes.

Remi, the traitor, was enjoying this way too much. “Cute? Girl, no. Bunnies are cute. Keiran King is surface-of-the-sun hot. His siblings, too.” She winked at Cherisse, who rolled her eyes again, refusing to confirm or deny that last statement.

“I don’t see you denying this supposed hotness.” Reba’s eyes full-on sparkled with mischief.

“I don’t have time to debate this.”

Reba tapped her fingers against her pursed red lips. “Your silence on the matter is telling.”

“What do you want me to say?” Cherisse asked, exasperated with the turn of the conversation. “Is he good-looking? Fine, yes. It doesn’t make him any less annoying.”

“Annoying can be overlooked.”

“For what? There’s no way in hell Keiran King would ever be a consideration for anything. Ever.” The idea was ludicrous. “Besides, I have a date.”