Aiden jokes, “We may never see her again.”

“Wait until she smells all the food cooking. She’ll wander out.”

Peyton swats her brother but pulls me into a hug. “I can’t thank you enough for letting us come here. This is so incredible.” Then she goes over and plops down on her bed. “I’ll meet you in an hour. Freshening up may take longer than I expected.”

“You can come back through the breezeway or go out on your veranda, take the stairs down, and follow the path back.”

Aiden grabs my hand as I lead him to his room. Even though we slept in the same bed at my loft, I didn't want to assume we would here, and now I'm glad I didn't because I need Aiden in his own room. I cannot fall asleep or wake up in his arms at any time during this trip. It will only make leaving that much harder.

I show him his suite. It’s amazing too, but in a different way. It’s decorated in a traditional British colonial style. Dark wood, pale blues, and amazing views of both mountains and ocean. It also happens to be conveniently located near the path leading to my room.

“This is great,” he says, not really looking. “But I wanna go see your room.”

“Don’t you want to throw on a swimsuit or go to the bathroom or something?” I ask, hoping that he does. I have something that I need to go do by myself.

“I’ll come back for my swimsuit,” he says firmly.

“Uh, well, um, okay. Why don’t you take that breezeway there?” I say, pointing to the one that leads to the turret. “And I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

“Why can’t I just walk with you?”

“Um, well, I have this thing I always do when I first get here. Kind of a tradition. So, I need to go do that and then I’ll meet you there.”

He takes my hand tightly in his, letting me know I’m not going anywhere without him.

“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes and quickly giving in.

I lead him out onto the veranda, down the stairs, and follow the path to the mermaid fountain.

“This is the fountain you told me about," he says excitedly.

“I always visit it when I first get here.”

“Why?”

I take a couple of pennies from my purse and make a big gesture of handing him one, trying to convince him that this is just a fun, silly little thing I do.

“I make a wish,” I say, avoiding Aiden’s eyes as my voice betrays me by sounding hopelessly romantic. I turn toward the mermaid and her prince, close my eyes, toss my penny into the fountain, and make the same wish I always do.

I wish that someday I'll find my prince. 

When I open my eyes, I notice that Aiden’s still holding his penny. “Aren’t you going to make a wish?”

He pulls me into his arms. “I’m standing here with you. I already got my wish.”

I flash him a lame attempt at a smile. Why can’t I hide my emotions around him? It’s the same way with B. It’s like they can both see right through my act.

“Do you always make the same wish?” he asks me.

“Um, yeah.”

He nods and hands me his penny. “Take mine and wish for something new.”

I look into his eyes and know exactly what he wants me to wish for.

Him.

But there’s only one way that could ever be possible.

Aiden holds my hand—I think to give me extra luck—while I toss in the penny.

I wish I could have my life back.

After I open my eyes and watch the penny sink to the bottom, Aiden says, “So, let's see this room of yours.”

I give the mosaic one last, fleeting look, then lead Aiden to the turret entrance, up the spiral wooden staircase, and to the big wooden door. I show him into the round suite with walls of stone, curved window seats, and views of the ocean in almost every direction.

“Wow,” he says. “This is quite a view.”

“You should see the bathroom,” I say, pulling him into it. I show him the big tub that sits on a raised stone pedestal and how it opens up to the outdoors. I lead him out onto my curved balcony.

He looks down and laughs. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.”

I laugh too. “I used to stand up here when I was little and make my friend say just that.”

He turns me back toward the bedroom. “You have a big bed,” he says cutely, referring to what I said at my loft when I was trying to get him to share my room.

“I do,” I reply, eyeing the king-sized four-poster bed draped with mosquito netting. “I also used to gather up every pillow in the place, stack them on this bed, and pretend I was the princess from the ‘The Princess and the Pea.’ That reminds me . . .” I walk over to the side table and open the drawer, just to make sure it’s still there.

“What's that?”

I pull the thick book out and show him.

“Fairy tales, huh?”

My eyes get teary thinking about how that’s all I’ve ever wanted.

My fairytale.

My prince.

My happily ever after.

But it all seems so silly now.

Because life is not a fairy tale.

In those stories, a prince never told the princess that he was gay. Or that it was her fault he got drugged. Or that he was going away for a year. Or that he got a text from his ex. And never did the princess have to put him on a plane and send him back to his castle. She never had to fight the dragon alone. And she never had to choose between two princes when the fight was over.

But, then, none of the princesses were stupid enough to make a wish on the moon.

Aiden gently takes the book out of my tight grip and sets it on the table. Then he sweeps me into a dance, humming a familiar song.

One of our songs.

I lean my head into his shoulder and enjoy the dance, knowing this will probably be our last. I try to tuck it away in my memory.

The way his body fits perfectly against mine.

The way his lips feel as they brush across my ear.

The way his hand is splayed possessively across my back.

He stops humming and whispers, “Let me sleep here with you.”

I stop moving and swallow. I can’t.

I really can’t.

But, oh, how I want him to hold me in his arms every second of each day I have left with him.

Even if it’s nothing but pure torture.

A life-sized version of listening to our twenty-nine-song playlist over and over again.

“You told me you wouldn't say no,” I reply, hoping that will force him back to his room.

“I won’t. We can do it right here, right now, if you want to.”

“I want to wait,” I say. I can’t be with him. I cannot be with him.

“Seriously?”

“I never wanted to have sex, Aiden. I just wanted to do a little more. And I hate being told no.”

“That’s a lesson I think I’ve learned,” he says, touching his nose and laughing.

“You’re going to have a little bump on the left side of your nose. Your face isn’t going to be quite so perfect anymore.”

“I’m far from perfect, Boots, but I know that I’m perfect for you.”

My eyes fill with tears again and I can’t help it. I kiss him.

Hard.

Full of passion.

Of regret.

Of I wish.

Of I’m going to cherish every single kiss for the next four days.

“Damn,” he says ten minutes later, after he’s pulled me on the bed and I’ve finally stopped kissing him to breathe. He pushes my hair behind my ear and runs the back of his hand under my chin. “As much as I’d like to stay here and kiss you, we should probably go meet my sister.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agree, pushing myself off the bed.

As I run into the bathroom and throw on a bikini, he asks me, “So what were you going to do here all by yourself?”

“I have a list.”

“What’s on it?”

As we walk hand in hand back to the main house, I tell him. “Just some stuff. It’s kinda lame.”

“Tell me anyway.”

I roll my eyes and start reciting my list. “Eat a fish I caught myself was on there, but that sounds gross in retrospect. Do yoga in the sand. Swim with the dolphins.”

“Will we see dolphins?”