I like Daniel, and the way he looks at my best friend. When Olga speaks, Daniel stops and listens like her voice is the only thing that matters in the universe.

Now, that's love.

I know deep in my heart that given the chance, Roman and I could have the same thing. It still hurts when I think about him.

But tonight, we concentrate on Daniel. It's his thirtieth birthday and we are celebrating on a rooftop downtown with a costume party.

But tonight, we concentrate on Daniel. It's his thirtieth birthday and we are celebrating on a rooftop downtown with a costume party. He is... Well, he is our spiky haired Hercules, and he sure looks the part of a demi-god with his bursting muscles, tattoos and toga dress.

"Long live Hercules!" we cry, raising our neon-green drinks to the starry sky.

Absinthe makes us roar like feral animals.

Thanks to Olga and the sugar spoons she hands out, the hellfire in our throats eases within seconds. She is dressed up as a punk-ass fairy tonight with wings fluttering behind her sexy, forest green dress.

I'm willing to offer another round of shots for Hercules and his fairy queen, but before I can form the words, someone protests behind me.

"Hey! You did shots without me!"

When I turn around, I meet Nate's handsome face and crooked smile.

"Hey, Abby," he says, cocking his head.

My surprise slowly fades into a welcoming smile.
Nate's always around when I'm hanging out with Olga and Daniel. Our conversations are brief, fun and on a surface level, and his jokes never fail to make me giggle. He hasn't asked me about Roman and I didn't want to mention him either. Figured, it's better this way.

My gaze lingers on the white lab coat he's wearing over a pair of jeans and a neat, white shirt. A stethoscope and a giant, glittery human heart hangs around his neck. What is he supposed to be? A doctor?

"Are you dressed as a heart surgeon?" I guess, raising a brow.

"Yeah." He grins.

Of course he is. He even brought a couple of sexy nurses with him.

"Are you scheduled for a double heart surgery tonight, doctor?" I ask, nudging his arm with my elbow.

"Maybe." He chuckles uncomfortably. Then patting the top of his head, he steps away from his dates. They don't seem to mind Nate's absence while they sip their champagnes and chat with each other in a different language. "And what kind of witch are you?" Nate asks, eyeing my black corset, mini tulle skirt, and leather garters.

I shoot him a coy smile. "The kind that steals hearts."

Wiggling my fingers, I make a move for the heart dangling across his chest, but Nate catches my hand in mid-air.

"You must tell me what kind of potion you're brewing first."

The way his lips twitch into a half grin reminds me of Roman. I blink away the memory of his brother and present Nate my cauldron shaped bag. "A love potion," I reply. "Though the bar has some pretty great cocktails. I'm going to get myself a strawberry mojito."

"Mojitooo!" Nate throws his head up in a wicked laughter and rubs his hands.

He is a man-child! A hot, silly, and funny one. I burst out laughing, take his hand, and lead him to the bar.

Nate leans over the counter to order our drinks. His dark hair is gelled back tonight. I prefer it messy, with strands falling onto his forehead. The shape of his thick eyebrows is similar to his brother's, except Nate's are not fixed in a constant frown. If anything, they seem constantly amused.

Nate grins when he catches me staring.

I chuckle and reach for his stethoscope, hoping to distract him. "Being a doctor suits you."

"Oh yeah?"

"You are good at delivering bad news," I say, but then bite my lip. The memory of how Nate had delivered the news of Tiffany and Roman starts playing in my mind. "I mean, I wouldn't mind taking bad news from a hot doctor like you. It softens the gravity of the situation."

Am I—Jeez, why am I flirting with him?

Alcohol, Abby. It must be the alcohol.

Nate grins and plugs the stethoscope into his ears. "May I?"

I nod and let him place the cold end against my chest—on the soft bump where my corset pushes up my breasts.

After listening carefully for a moment, he dramatically shakes his head, locking his green gaze with mine. "Miss Abby Shepherd, I'm afraid you are are suffering from a broken heart."

Blood rushes to my face. I know it's meant to be a joke, a meaningless flirt, but hearing Nate's diagnosis hurts. Perhaps I'm not great at handling bad news, no matter how hot the doctor is. I force a smile and push the diaphragm off my chest.

Good thing, my strawberry mojito is ready, and it's the sweetest medicine.

A half-hearted smile replaces Nate's grin as I sip my drink. "My dream was to become a doctor," he says, and when I raise a brow in question, he nods, shuffling in his place. "I was accepted to Yale med-school, but later, I had to switch to journalism when Dad passed away, to help Roman with the magazine."

"I'm sorry," I reply softly. I never thought about what Nate had to give up and how his father's death had affected him. Feels like Roman had been unfair to his little brother. "Would you rather be a doctor?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation light.

Nate purses his bottom lip as if he's considering the thought. "I love the magazine. But sometimes, I wonder how my life would be if Dad was alive." He sips his drink with a painful glow in his eyes. "What about you? Would you rather be something else?"

"Nah, I love what I do. Cutting scenes and perfecting details... Seeing perfection on the screen and knowing that I did that. The fulfillment is beyond words."

He starts smiling.

"And the best part is," I continue, "I don't have to take shit from anybody."

"Now, I want to work in your field," Nate says, and makes me giggle. "I'm glad you are living your best life."

My smile turns sour. My best life as a lonely, vulgar nobody who is full of self pity.

"Is there such a thing as the best life, though?" I ask. "Don't you have any regrets?"

"Of course I do," he says, averting his tender gaze. "But I can't miss out on the moment by feeling sorry for some life I never had."

This deserves a toast. I raise my glass with a know-it-all grin. "Cheers to that."

Nate chuckles and clinks his cocktail with mine. His eyes narrow for a brief moment as if he's considering something. Then tugging on his necklace, he slowly takes the sparkling heart off. "Here. It's yours. For whatever potion you're brewing," he says, and hangs the heavy chain around my neck.

"Thanks, Nate." I toss my hair out of the necklace with an awkward chuckle.

I'm holding Nate's heart in my hands!

"See you around, Abby." He winks before turning around, and walks over to Daniel and Olga at the far end of the bar. Throwing his arms around their shoulders, he whispers something into their ears and makes them laugh. I sip my sweet, icy drink and smile, watchig the three of them together. Nate is a good friend—the sweet, genuine kind.

I run my fingers on the sparkly red beads around my new necklace, then dive into the crowd. This witch ain't brewing tonight, and she won't for a while. Love potions can wait because they won't work on a broken heart.