Chapter 1
Poppy Bennett had gotten used to a lot of things in her fifteen years.
The one thing she wished she’d never gotten used to?
Picking up her drunk older brother.
It happened almost every Friday night.
Caleb would head out with his friends, reminding her for the hundredth time that she was “too young” to come with them and insisting she stay home. Then, a few hours later, her phone would buzz with a slurred voicemail—or worse, a call from one of his friends—asking her to come get him before their dad found out.
Every.
Single.
Time.
Usually, she didn’t complain.
She loved Caleb, even when he drove her absolutely insane.
But tonight?
Tonight she’d had enough.
It had been a long week filled with school, history projects, pop quizzes, and the kind of teenage drama that felt exhausting even when it wasn’t happening to her. All she’d wanted was to curl up beneath her favorite blanket with the mystery novel she’d been saving and a steaming mug of coffee while October rain tapped against her bedroom window.
Instead, she was trudging through the cold streets of Winter Harbor, boots crunching over patches of snow that had arrived far earlier than anyone expected.
The salty breeze from the harbor nipped at her cheeks as orange light from the beach bonfire flickered in the distance.
Her phone vibrated.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
With a sigh, she answered.
“I know,” Poppy said before the person on the other end could speak. “I’m on my way. Is he behaving badly?”
Andrew let out a tired laugh.
“Yeah. Logan’s currently trying to pull Caleb off another guy.”
Poppy’s stomach dropped.
“What happened?”
“No idea. We looked away for like thirty seconds and suddenly Caleb wanted to fight someone.”
She broke into a run.
“I’ll be there in two minutes.”
She ended the call before Andrew could respond.
The freezing air burned her lungs as she sprinted toward the beach, weaving between parked trucks and groups of teenagers laughing around smaller fires.
Please don’t let him be hurt.
Please don’t let Dad find out.
Please don’t let this become another disaster.
By the time she reached the bonfire, her breathing was uneven.
The music was loud.
Someone cheered from somewhere near the shoreline.
The smell of smoke lingered in the crisp autumn air.
And sitting on a driftwood log near the fire was Caleb.
A crushed soda can rested against his lips.
His cheeks were flushed from the cold—and the alcohol.
Poppy sighed.
She knew that look.
He wasn’t just tipsy.
He was drunk.
“Caleb.”
He didn’t even look up.
Didn’t recognize her voice.
Instead, the boy standing beside him turned around.
Logan Hayes.
Their next-door neighbor.
Caleb’s best friend.
The person she’d known almost her entire life.
Firelight danced across the snow caught in his dark hair. One hand rested firmly on Caleb’s shoulder, keeping him from stumbling back toward the crowd, while the other held an unopened bottle of water.
Despite the chaos surrounding them, Logan looked completely calm.
His eyes met hers.
Relief flashed across his face.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, looking between her and Caleb. “Seriously, Caleb? You called your fifteen-year-old sister?”
“So did Andrew,” Poppy replied, trying to catch her breath. “Don’t blame him.”
She stepped beside her brother.
“Come on, dummy. Let’s get you home.”
Caleb frowned dramatically.
“I’m not a dummy.”
“No?”
She folded her arms.
“What do you think Dad’s going to call you when he finds out about this?”
Caleb groaned.
“Poppy...”
“He asked you last week to stop doing this.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not covering for you this time.”
Another groan.
“You never let me have any fun.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You call trying to start a fight ‘fun’?”
“I would’ve won.”
“You could barely win standing up.”
A few of Caleb’s friends laughed.
Even Logan let out a quiet chuckle.
Poppy slipped underneath Caleb’s arm and tried to help him to his feet.
The second he stood, he leaned almost his entire weight against her.
She stumbled.
Before she could lose her balance completely, another pair of hands steadied Caleb from the other side.
“I’ve got him.”
Logan effortlessly took most of Caleb’s weight.
“My truck’s parked just outside the beach,” he said. “I stayed sober tonight. I’ll drive you both home.”
Poppy looked up at him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The wind carried another burst of laughter from the bonfire behind them.
Snowflakes drifted lazily through the glow of the firelight.
She was freezing.
Caleb was impossible.
And somehow, Logan Hayes was the only reason tonight hadn’t turned into a complete disaster.
She nodded.
“Okay.”
Together, they started walking toward Logan’s truck.
