me. I don’t stop to smell the roses and hug the trees. I just push on, without indulging myself. Except for my bike.’
‘I see,’ Sunshine said. And she did. It was so very simple. Leo had his bike the way she had Moon’s ashes. Something that connected you to what you’d lost—what you couldn’t have: in her case her sister; in his a carefree youth.
She swallowed around a sudden lump. ‘We’re not going to find common ground on this, are we? Because you deserve one piece of youthful folly and I can’t bear what that piece happens to be.’
She got out of bed, grabbed her kimono off the floor, quickly pulled it on, and turned to face him. ‘This means, of course, that we’ll have to call it quits at two.’
‘At two...what? O’clock?’
‘Two times—as in not four. As in assignations.’
‘Why?’
Why? She had a sudden memory of that electri-fried bat. ‘Because the thought of you on that bike already upsets me too much. That’s going to get harder, not easier, to cope with if we keep doing...this.’
‘This?’
‘Sex,’ she said impatiently. ‘It’s my fault for starting it, and I’ll cop to that. I threw myself at you when you didn’t want to go there. The blame is squarely here, with me.’
‘If we’re talking blame, I threw myself at you tonight.’
Sunshine dragged the edges of the kimono closed and started looking around for her sash. ‘Well, let’s unthrow ourselves.’
‘Come back to bed, Sunshine, and we’ll talk about it.’
‘Bed is the wrong place to talk.’
‘Four assignations was what we agreed on,’ Leo said.
‘Up to! They’re the salient words. Up to four. I’ve never got to four before. I’ve never got past two! And you can see why. It gets too emotional.’
Leo shoved the quilt aside, got out of bed. ‘I’ll do you a deal on the motorbike,’ he offered, and started tugging on his clothes.
‘What kind of deal?’
Wary. Very wary.
‘I’ll get rid of the bike the day after our fourth assignation. Or when you change your name to Allyn. Whichever comes first.’
She licked her lips nervously. ‘That’s an odd deal.’
‘Is it? I’m offering to give up a piece of a past I never really had—the bike. In return, you give up something you can’t accept is past its use-by date—your sister’s two-year hold over you.’
‘She doesn’t have a hold over me.’
‘If she didn’t have a hold over you the four times thing wouldn’t exist. So—my bike for going where no man has gone before and risking the magic number four.’
‘No.’
‘Then take the alternative option and change your name. You said it might be a way of moving on, so do it. Move on, Sunshine, one way or the other.’
‘I...I don’t know,’ she said, agonised.
‘Take some time and think about it,’ he said. ‘But not too long. Because—in case you haven’t quite figured me out yet—I don’t wait for what I want. I just go out and get it. Even if I have to steal it.’
‘You don’t really want me.’
‘I’m like an immortal lobster—who really knows? Let’s get to number four and see.’
‘Well, you can’t steal me.’
‘Don’t bet on it, sweetheart. I’ve spent my life getting my own way. And I can take things from you that you never knew you had.’
She located her obi and whipped it up off the floor. ‘That’s not even worth a response.’
Leo just smiled and started pulling on his boots.
She tried, twice, to tie the sash, but her fingers were clumsy.
And Leo’s hands were suddenly there—capable, efficient, tying it easily.
‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly when he had finished, and flicked her hair over her shoulders. ‘I’ll see you out.’
She walked Leo to the apartment door. ‘So!’ she said. ‘I’ll email you about...about the clothes for the wedding and a few other things. And then... Well...’
‘And then...well...?’ Leo repeated, looking a little too wolfish and a lot too jaunty for a man who was waiting for an answer about sex that could, should—no, would!—go against him. And then he leant down and kissed her quickly on the mouth.
She jumped back as though he’d scalded her.
‘It’s just a stolen kiss, Sunshine,’ he murmured. ‘Think of the calories.’
* * *
Sunshine stared into the darkness long after returning to bed.
Leo would give up his motorbike.
Into her head popped an image of Moonbeam—laughing as they left the party that night. Giving a wild shout as she started the bike. Zooming off with Sunshine on the back, gripping her tightly.
And then darkness. And that feeling. Waking up in hospital and knowing, without needing to be told, that Moonbeam was gone. She never wanted to experience that desolating ache again.
Leo didn’t understand what it would do to her if something happened to him. And that said it all, didn’t it? She’d only known him for one week, and already she was terrified that something would happen to him.
What a conundrum. She could get him to give up his bike if she slept with him twice more. But if she slept with him twice more she would be getting dangerously close to him. And she couldn’t risk that.
Or...
She could get him to give up his bike if she changed her name. And she just wasn’t sure what that would mean. Maybe it would help her accept Moon’s death. But maybe it would be a betrayal—taking a twins’ decision and making it a solo decision. Moving on when Moon couldn’t.
And did anything matter more than keeping Leo safe?
Sunshine threw off the covers—what a restless night this was turning out to be!—and yanked on her kimono, leaving it fluttering as she raced from the room and into her office.
There, on the high-gloss blue bureau, was her sister. Her sister, who had wanted her ashes to be scattered at a beach under a full moon.
Instead here she was. Beautifully housed in a stunning antique cloisonné urn featuring all the colours of the rainbow.
But
