“She could tell me to fuck off and die.” I toss my phone on the coffee table. “Or she could tell me she met someone else.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to know one way or the other?”

“I don’t know if I can handle any more disappointment right now. And maybe it’s better this way, you know? She’s so young, and I’m already a jaded fucker with a ton of baggage.”

“Is that what you’re going to put on your Tinder profile?”

“Fuck you.”

“At least give her the chance to decide if you’re too jaded and have too much baggage for her to handle,” he says. “If you don’t, you’ll regret it, and I’ll have to hear about the one that got away for the rest of my damn life. And you’ll settle for someone who doesn’t line up with the idea of the woman you never fought for in the first place. Then you’ll get divorced, buy a stupid car, and get fat.”

“Thanks for the glimpse into my depressing future.”

“Call me Lincoln the Oracle. Go after her if she’s what you want. Don’t sit back and watch your future disappear, or you’ll end up like my parents. They live under the same roof, but their bedrooms are on opposite sides of the house. No one should be that fucking miserable, or transfer that misery onto another person.”

“I’ll call her when I’m in Vegas.”

* * *

Less than twenty-four hours later, I’m standing in the hall outside Cosy’s apartment. I picked up my car and headed directly to her, before I lost the balls to follow through.

“You can do this. Just tell her the truth and that you’re in love with her and see what happens.” I knock and wait, keeping my fingers crossed I don’t have to go STW.

I’m relieved when I hear the lock turn. The door opens three inches and a disapproving face appears in the gap. “I thought I told you to leave Cosy alone.”

“I know you did.”

“You promised you would.”

“Things have changed. I need to talk to her.”

“No can do.” She starts to close the door, but I jam my foot in before she can.

“Look, Nev, I understand you’re trying to protect Cosy, and I respect that, but I’m in love with her and I’d like the opportunity to tell her that myself.”

“I don’t give a fuck if you want to donate a kidney in case she needs it, you can’t talk to her. And if you call her to tell her you love her, I’m going to hunt you down and cut your balls off. She’s trying to get over you. Also, there’s the whole part where you’re a baby daddy, so still nope.”

“The baby isn’t mine.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Of course it’s not.”

“I’m serious. I found out three days ago, or I would’ve been back a hell of a lot sooner. Imogen cheated on me and then lied about it being mine.”

The furrow in Nev’s brow deepens as she looks me over. “You’re serious. That’s fucked up.”

“Tell me about it. I wanted to do the right thing by Cosy, and I know I should probably leave her alone, but I’m miserable without her. It’s like someone punched a hole in my heart.”

She closes the door in my face. I’m momentarily stunned until she opens it again and she leans against the jamb with her arms crossed. “You still can’t talk to her or see her.”

“But I—”

She raises a hand. “She’s not in Vegas.”

“Where is she?”

“In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. She took an internship on a cruise ship.”

Well, this is anticlimactic. “When will she be back?”

“A couple of weeks. She docks in New York.”

I pull out my phone, and Nev grabs it, hiding it behind her back. “No way, dude. You are not going to declare your love over the phone. That’s bullshit. Also, she doesn’t have reception very often, so you probably won’t reach her anyway.”

“All cruise ships have internet.”

“She opted out so she wouldn’t stalk you online. Or get phone calls. Cosy likes clean breaks.”

“What cruise line is she with? Do you have contact information? Do you know what ports they’re stopping in?”

“Why? You planning to helicopter your ass out into the ocean and parachute onto her boat?”

“If I can’t find her in port, that’s a real possibility.”

“Must be nice to be rich.” She turns around and wanders down the hall. “Well, come on, she left me an itinerary so we could plan out our calls.”

I follow her into the apartment. It smells a lot like cinnamon and cloves. Nev is clearly not big on housekeeping, based on the state of the living room. Dishes are stacked on top of each other. Half-empty coffee cups litter the end tables. A few of them look like Petri dish experiments.

She riffles around through a pile of papers on the counter. “Here it is!” She glances at the sheet and then the calendar on the wall. “Says they’ll be docking in Nassau in two days.”