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stay and get in more trouble?”
    She heaved a heavy sigh, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be home safe in her bed. She crossed her arms to her waist and peered up with a jut of her jaw. “I’ll go,” she said with a threat in her tone, “but I’d stay if I wanted to.”
    He grinned, gently pressing her shoulder to the wall. “I’m sure you would. Stay here. I’ll get your sweater and purse and tell the others.”
    “Wait!” She jerked forward, hand to his arm. “You’re not going to tell ’em anything to make me look like some, some . . . ,” she gulped, cheeks warm, “little baby, are you?”
    A boyish smile curved on his mouth as he tweaked a lock of her hair. “No, ‘baby doll,’ ” he said, a hint of laughter twinkling in his eyes. “I’ll just tell them you’re sick to your stomach.”
    “But I’m not,” she said, no longer comfortable with telling any more lies.
    With a gentle tap of her nose, he gave her a look that quivered her belly. “Oh yes you are, kiddo.” He turned to weave his way through the crowd, but not before delivering a final glance over his shoulder. “’Cause if kissing Brubakerdidn’t make you want to throw up your supper, you either have a cast-iron stomach . . .” his smile took a slant, “or one monumental tolerance for pain.”

    A grin tugged as Steven made his way through the crowd to where Annie stood welded to the wall, hugging his jacket like a shield to ward off unwelcome attention. It all but swallowed her whole as her anxious eyes scanned the throng of people, reducing her to the little girl he’d rescued in the street. His grin broke free and he shook his head. A sore thumb, no doubt about it , he thought with a sigh. Snow White in a sea of scarlet women  . . .
    A man approached her, and every muscle in Steven’s body tensed as if it were his little sister plastered against that wall. He watched as she shook her head before dropping her gaze to the floor, and the knot in his stomach slowly unraveled. Good girl.
    Her pinched look relaxed when she spotted him, and instantly a soft wash of pink stole into her cheeks. He exhaled slowly, certain he was doing the right thing by taking her home.
    “Here.” He replaced his coat with her bulky sweater. “Button up, ’cause sea air gets cold.” Waiting, he finally returned her purse and put his own jacket on, then hooked her elbow. “Where do you live?” he asked, his tone as impersonal as if he were processing paperwork at the office.
    ———
    Where do I live? Air clotted in Annie’s throat at the revelation he’d be walking her home to a house he might recognize if Maggie had taken him there. She absently gnawed on her lip. Probably not, though. Maggie lived in the Radcliffe dorm and couldn’t abide Aunt Eleanor either, even though her aunt’s money afforded an education few women enjoyed. Annie drew in a bolstering breath, realizing she’d have to takeher chances. And if Steven O’Connor and his friends found out she was Maggie’s sister? A knot dipped in her throat. Well, then so be it. She certainly knew she’d have to tell them eventually, but not just yet, at least not till she had a chance to try her wings and experience what Maggie had.
    She sucked in a deep draw of air. Besides, from the rift mentioned in Maggie’s letters between her, Erica, and Joanie and their catty comments tonight, Annie was pretty sure neither of them would want anything to do with her, nor would Steven, most likely. She peeked up, noting dark stubble on his clean-shaven jaw as he towed her down the moonlit piazza to the ramp of the Pier and suddenly decided she wanted more time in Maggie’s world. After all, it wasn’t as if she were lying, actually . . . She gulped. Just delaying the truth a wee bit.
    With another deep breath, she finally mustered the courage to tell him her address. “Beacon Hill,” she muttered, out of breath from trying to keep up.
    The sculpted profile turned, a ridge