“They are.”

“So you’re saying none of them are in love?”

“No, I’m not. Okay, let me rephrase. Love doesn’t exist anymore. Not in this day—not for our generation. You see how many divorces there are now? It’s just people who get tired of being with their spouse because they’re no longer in ‘love’ with them, or they ‘love’ someone else. If you actually loved them, that wouldn’t ever go away. You’d always love them. Now? All love is, is a dream. It’s something people want and pretend they find.”

I studied her for a second and asked, “How could you grow up around people like your parents and come to the conclusion you have?”

“Growing up around them is the exact reason I figured all this out. I grew up around perfect couples. All of them were happy, and I remember always wanting to have that someday.”

“And?” I prompted when she didn’t continue.

Kennedy just shrugged. “And then I found out it didn’t exist anymore.”

“Just like that? One day you just randomly decided that?”

For long moments, she just sat there watching me. After a while she finally said, “I had that. I was sure I had what they had. I was positive I was in love. And then I found out how wrong I was one day. After that, I stopped looking at the world through love-clouded glasses, and started seeing relationships for what they were. They look perfect on the outside, and inside, they’re just a disaster.”

“Is that relationship what happened to make you push me back?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes before scooping up another bite. “It was a long time ago. I pushed you back because it wasn’t hard to see you wanted something I couldn’t give you because I don’t believe in it.”

“And yet, here you are. On a date with me, and you talked about future dates in the car.”

“Well, it’s not like you and Kira gave me a choice about tonight,” she said with a teasing tone. “But after everything I told you before tonight, I know you already know how I feel about an actual relationship. So I’m not worried about you waiting for this to turn into something it won’t.”

Looking around us, my gaze stopped on an elderly couple, and I leaned in toward Kennedy. Grabbing her hand, I nodded my head in their direction. “Look at them. The couple in the corner.”

Her eyes drifted past me, and I watched as her face softened. Turning, I looked at the pair too. Both had white hair and were permanently hunched, and the man had a cane resting against the table. There was a bowl of ice cream between them, and he took turns giving his wife a bite before taking one for himself. He was holding her hand across the table, and their fingers were curved around each other’s like they’d spent the last sixty-plus years never letting go of each other.

Looking back at the girl I was holding on to, I spoke softly. “I know I want that someday; there’s no way you can’t want it too.”

“I used to,” she admitted when her dark blue eyes met mine again. “But it just doesn’t exist for us anymore.”

“You’re twenty-two, Kennedy. You have a long time to change your mind.”

AN HOUR LATER, I was walking back into the familiar tattoo shop with a bag of food in my hand. I’d just dropped Kennedy off at her condo, and even though the rest of the night had been great, I couldn’t stop thinking about the beginning of our conversation at the ice cream shop.

“Little Chachi!” Brian called out from where he was wrapping someone’s leg. “What’d you bring me, and why are you visiting me again on a Friday night? Don’t you have better things to do than come talk at ol’ Bri on nights like tonight?”

“I just dropped Kennedy off.”

“Who?” he asked distractedly before telling the guy he’d been working on that he could pay up front and giving him a rundown of after-care instructions.

“Moon,” I said when the guy was gone and I was in Brian’s station.

“Oh, no shit! Like date night? Hell yeah! What changed since I last saw you—wait! Tell me what you brought me first.”

I tossed him the bag full of hamburgers and fries, and he groaned in appreciation.

“You just knew I was starving, didn’t you? That’s why you’re here?”

“Of course that’s not why I’m here. Kennedy doesn’t believe in love,” I said as I took a seat on his desk.

“So what?” he mumbled around a bite. “You don’t love her anyway—or do you now? I told you you would! See, LC! I know you. I know these things. I know how those faces of yours work; you were in love before you even knew it.”

“Still don’t love her, Brian.”

He kept talking as if I hadn’t spoken. “Just like with Chachi before you, I know what the fuck’s up. I should be Cupid’s sidekick or something.”

“Brian,” I barked, and kicked at his leg. “I don’t love her. But I want to know what you think about what she said about love.”

“You came to me for this, Little Chachi?” Brian made a face like he was about to cry, and wiped away an imaginary tear. “I knew it. Cupid’s sidekick. I’ve got this love shit down.”

With a weighted sigh, I decided against saying anything about the new title Brian had given himself, and told him all about my conversation with Kennedy. When I was finished, Brian sat there staring at me with a handful of fries half hanging out of his mouth.

“Again, so what? You’re still acting like you don’t love her.”

“I don’t, but I want to know what you think.”

Brian rolled his eyes, like I was asking him to stop eating again. “I think that she’s been hurt.”

“That’s obvious,” I said, cutting in. “She said she had a bad relationship.”

“Do you want me to tell you or not?”

I lifted an arm out and to the side. “Continue.”

“Anyway! I think she’s been hurt. Not just in a way people get hurt in normal everyday relationships. I think whatever happened in that relationship hurt her in a way she was never expecting to be hurt, and a way you probably can’t understand. So hurt that her only way to get past it is to make herself believe that love doesn’t exist anymore.”

I leaned forward and rested my arms on my legs. “What could’ve happened that was so bad?”

“Lot of things, LC. He could’ve hurt her physically. You just never know.”

“But she’s twenty-two, and she said this happened a long time ago. How could she have been old enough to be so in love with someone that she thought she had what her parents had? And knowing her personality, there’s no way she was ever the kind of girl to be in love with every relationship and boyfriend she had.”

“Your mom was eighteen when she fell in love and then had her entire world ripped out from under her in ways that I can’t begin to understand—and I was there with a front-row seat during it,” he said like that should’ve been explanation enough. And I guess in a way, it was. With a shrug, Brian said, “This kind of shit happens sometimes. If you ever find out, you’ll probably never be able to understand what your girl went through. But I have no doubt that it’s just going to take the right guy to make her believe in all that lovey-dovey shit again.”