“Go ahead.”

“So…when did Cupid’s arrow first hit you? The day you met Rafe, or was it later?”

He froze momentarily, then pulled back at the string and released the arrow. Gold.

She waited. And waited. He looked at her.

“Day we met. The second we met. For me anyway.”

“Gay? Bi? Pan? Fun at parties?”

“That is not even remotely archery related. And I prefer the term unisex.”

“Unisex?”

“Like a T-shirt. Fits both men and women. Plus, T-shirts are tops.”

Emilie groaned and punched him in the upper arm. “That was inappropriate. So so so inappropriate.”

“You asked,” he said. He didn’t even have the decency to rub his arm and pretend her punch had hurt.

“What about Rafe?”

“Why don’t you go ask him yourself if he’s gay, bi, or fun at parties?”

“I will not be doing that.”

“Smart. But yes, to answer your question, he likes girls. And me, for some reason.”

Emilie muttered, “I can think of a few reasons.”

“Thank you,” he said. “So what gave me away? The Subaru?”

“Exhibit A—you did not appreciate it when I made a joke about Rafe impressing girls with his big sexy bed. Exhibit B—when he showed his face after shaving, you looked like…you know, in the movies when the vampire finally sees the sun after centuries of darkness? Like that. No, even better.” She breathed in dramatically. “Like in the live video for ‘Silver Springs’ in 1997. You know, when Stevie turns and starts singing the chorus directly to Lindsey, and the stage melts at the savagery?”

“The savagery?”

“When Rafe came out without his beard, you looked like you could have eaten him with a spoon. That, my friend, was savagery.”

He gave her a look but didn’t answer. He shot his arrow. It hit the line between the red and the gold. Not quite the center, not quite a bull’s-eye, but pretty close.

“What about Rafe? Was he in love with you too?”

Jeremy pulled another arrow and took a breath. “When we were gone those six months, yes. But only then. With Rafe’s dad…Well, his dad was one of many, many reasons we didn’t want to come back home.”

He shot another arrow. It hit the gold. Then another. Gold.

“I knew it,” she said. “I totally knew it. Stevie and Lindsey. They went to the same high school too. Ah, this is amazing. Rafe is your Silver Springs.” She wanted to pat herself on the back.

“Rafe is not my overpriced D.C. suburb.”

“No, no. That is not what the song’s about. The song is about how when two lovers are in a band together, even when they break up, or the band breaks up, they’re still joined together because of the beautiful music they made. You, sir, are Stevie Nicks. And Rafe is your Lindsey Buckingham.”

“At least I’m Stevie in this bizarre fantasy of yours.”

“I love you so much for that,” she said, giving him a hug he didn’t seem to enjoy very much, but he took it without complaint. She let him go. “Wait, if you’ve been in love with him for literally ever…why didn’t you come back and visit him? He’s pretty pissed you—”

“I did.” Jeremy released another arrow. Gold again.

“You did.”

He pulled another arrow from the quiver and straightened out the feather things on the end. Not feathers, he’d told her. The fletching.

“When he was twenty-two, Rafe got in a car accident. He was driving to the Crow in his sleep and ended up in a ditch. He’d had a few incidents before, but this time, they decided to commit him to a place called Brook Haven.”

“Mental hospital?”

“Yeah. I took the first flight I could find and drove to Brook Haven straight from the airport. He could only have one visitor at a time, and Bobbi was back with him. Bill was in the waiting room. He wasn’t happy to see me. Called security and had me kicked out. He blamed me for us getting lost. Easier than blaming himself.”

“You should tell Rafe you tried to see him. He should know.”

Jeremy shook his head as he nocked his arrow.

“Rafe took his dad’s death hard. It’s harder when there’s unfinished business. I shouldn’t have gone anyway. Tempting fate.”

“I’ll tell him if you—”

“No, you won’t. And that’s more than enough about me. What about you? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Anyone you’re leaving behind in Ohio?”

“Oh, me? Nobody. Ever.”

“Ever?”

“I just want a family again,” she said, “not boobs and boners in my face. Priorities, man.”

Jeremy looked at her, then said, “Agree to disagree.”

He pulled back the string again—

“Oh no.” She gasped as a realization hit her quick as an arrow in the guts. “He doesn’t remember it. If Rafe doesn’t remember anything from when you two were lost, and that was when you two were together, then he doesn’t remember…”

Jeremy drew back the string.

“I don’t know what’s worse, that he doesn’t remember I’m in love with him or that he doesn’t remember he was in love with me.” Jeremy smiled, but it was so fleeting she wasn’t sure if she’d seen it or not. “At least I can still play ‘Primavera.’ I can play it from memory. If I had to, I could play it blindfolded.”

He sent his last arrow flying. Gold.

Chapter Twelve