Page 1 of Away We Go

PROLOGUE

Nicky

“I need a favour.”

These four words feel like the glue holding our friendship together.

I look over at my best friend of the last twenty-ish years and smirk. He’s lounging, lopsided, on a couch in a cordoned-off section of this small, dingy bar in our small town Oakhill, Victoria, with a plastic gold crown sitting haphazardly atop his head. He’s slurring his words and is just the right amount of drunk for the groom at his own bachelor party. One drink more, and I fear he will tip over into sloppy.

Or just tip over in general.

“No,” I answer him.

He sways to his feet and lurches over to my couch. Sitting way too close for comfort, he leans into my face and sprays a beseeching “please” in my direction.

Okay, he’s drunker than I thought.

I motion to James, who’s standing nearby, to get the groom a bottle of water, and lean away from my friend with a heavy sigh.As his best man, I have to be here. But as a matter of principle, I want it known I’m doing it under duress.

“It’s not for me,” continues Matt—Matteo Brenner, my childhood friend and all-around good guy—adjusting his crown and making it worse. “It’s for Cherry.”

My stomach tightens and I sit upright. “Is she okay?”

Cherry—Cherie Brenner—is Matt’s younger sister by eight years. She was a constant figure in my life growing up. And just about the purest soul ever to walk the Earth. Growing up, she was like family to me, so ifsheneeds a favour? Well, that’s a different story.

He lifts a shoulder, his eyes losing their drunken sheen. “I’m not sure.”

My hands clench into fists and I lean forward, now encroaching on his space. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, man! What is this? A tea party?” Dave, also an old friend and one I barely tolerate, slaps Matt on the back so forcefully that I grab his arm to keep him from falling over. “We’re here to celebrate your last days of freedom, man. Not to sit and gossip with this guy.”

I glare at Dave, annoyed by both the interruption and his open disdain for me. These guys were my friends at one point, but jealousy is a poison most of the men at this party have swallowed. I know my presence here is annoying them, as is the fact that we had to hold this party in a small bar in our hometown of Oakhill because of me. To keep the paparazzi at bay; to keep this out of the media. To make sure Matt can party the way he wants to without the world seeing it—without the scrutiny my fame brings with it.

This small country town is one of the few places I can move around with some peace. The people here knew me before I became who I am, and mostly, they still treat me that way. It’s themain reason that, though I have houses on three different continents, I call this place my home.

“Give me a minute.” Matt shoves Dave with more force than I thought possible with his tequila-riddled arms and I sigh with relief as the group disappears back to the bar to down more shots. The shots I’m paying for. They don’t mindthatpart of me being here.

“So, Cherry?” I prompt after we’re alone again. “What’s going on?”

He removes his crown, a solemn look taking over his tipsy face. “She and that guy she was with, you know the one? They broke up.”

I fight a frown. Matt had been filling me in on her relationship with some guy named Troy for the last twelve months. From what he’s told me, he didn’t much care for the man, but with the two of us travelling ten out of the twelve months of the year, there was little either of us could do to intervene. Not that Cherry would let that happen. She may be an angel on Earth, but she’s not a redhead for nothing. Her stubborn streak is the stuff of legends.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad that’s over. From what you told me, it should never have started.”

He nods, scratching his chin, and his eyes search the room like he’s looking for the right words. “I’m not sure he wasn’t treating her right.”

A vein in my temple throbs at the thought of Cherry being mistreated. From the moment she was born, with a sweet smile and a mop of shockingly deep red hair, she’d been the light in all our lives. Before she actually arrived though, Matt and I weren’t that keen. We were eight when we’d found out he was being graced with a new sibling and were mildly disgusted by the whole thing. The idea of having to share Matt’s parents with someonenew, someone little and gross, was extremely unappealing to us. We’d spent hours plotting how to make her life miserable, the pranks we could play in the hopes she may decide to just go away, and the things we could do to endear everyone to our own favour instead—it had been as diabolical as it was moronic. The sort of thinking only two pre-pubescent boys could indulge in.

And then she arrived. Small and adorable, with bright blue eyes and a sunny smile for everyone, not to mention that little dimple on her right cheek she flashed whenever we needed it. She was named Cherie—another nod to their mum’s French heritage—but once I saw her deep red hair, a colour I’d never seen before, I called her Cherry. Like my favourite Christmas pie. And that was it. She became Cherry to everyone who knew her.

I wonder ifTroycalled her Cherry?My stomach rolls at just the thought of it.

“Do we need to talk to him?” I growl, my voice dropping to a deadly level. Few things in life get me riled up—my nickname isn’t Ice Man for nothing—but with this woman, my protective urges are close to the surface.

“Nah, he’s gone. Dumped her and then up and left. Moved to Sydney from what I heard.”

“Good riddance.”

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