But … When in doubt, brazen it out. That had been Will’s motto ever since he’d realised he couldn’t keep fibs straight in his head like the other kids. “That’s right,” he said, raising his chin. “Beautiful.” Then he smiled, because a large number of women seemed to like it when he did that.

Of course, Abbie wasn’t only a woman; she was a woman who’d known him and his bullshit for decades. “What are you up to, William?” she demanded, squinting at him as if he’d changed species before her eyes.

“Not a lot,” he said, which was technically true.

“Really?” she asked, the word dripping with disbelief, disapproval, derision, all kinds of terrible d-words. Haddock, clearly aware of the impending storm, picked up his rickety bones and clambered out of Abbie’s lap. Will watched him pad out of the room with more than a little envy.

Then he replied, with complete inadequacy, “Really, really, Abs.”

“Fascinating,” she drawled. “Because if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were trying to flirt your way into my underwear like we haven’t been friends for twenty-one years. And I’m trying to figure out why you would do such a thing, and the only explanation I can come up with—” She faltered for a second, so slightly he might not have noticed it if he wasn’t (1) kind of obsessed with her, drinking her down like sixty-year-old Scotch, and (2) so on edge in this moment he noticed her every goddamn breath. “The only explanation I can come up with,” she went on, her expression unreadable and her eyes burning, “is that something’s happened since the last time I saw you. Something that’s turned you into kind of a dick. I don’t know what it is, but I’m not going to take it.”

Will’s mouth fell open. He was rapidly losing control of this situation, which he’d expected, but what he hadn’t expected was the direction it would spiral off into. “I—what? Calling you beautiful makes me a dick now?”

“Flirting with me makes you a dick,” she replied instantly, her voice low and steely, her expression hard and—beneath it all … hurt?

Yes. It was hidden, like all of Abbie’s feelings, but he’d made it his life’s mission to decipher her, and he knew what the flash in her dark eyes meant. What he didn’t know was how he’d managed to fuck up so spectacularly and with such jaw-dropping speed.

Or maybe he did know. Plans weren’t his thing, and now he remembered why. It wasn’t only his lack of organisation; it was the fact that this plan involved keeping secrets, holding back, and that felt a little like lying.

Jase had been right—and Will had been wrong.