Your dads, Danny and Cal, always took you to Monaco every summer when you were little for two weeks. Sometimes it was for the Monaco Grand Prix, sometimes it was just to hang out for a bit and take a break from the world.

Monaco was the centerpiece of your life. It was where you had your first kiss. It was where you kissed your first girl. It was where you needed to go whenever you were sad, but couldn’t. Monaco was everything to you.

Quinn has been your best friend since you were five. Although you only see him two weeks out of the year, and he's a year and a half older than you, every moment counts. Each day I’m gone from Monaco, I only hope to go back.

His older brother Ty was always rude. He was a year older than Quinn, almost three years older than you, so he always picked fun at the two of you. He would inherit the vineyard when he turned 20, and he'd have the yacht, the cars, and an even bigger ego.

When you were seven, Quinn introduced you to Ty When you were ten, their mom passed. you were there for Quinn those two weeks more than anyone had been that past year. Ty just stayed angry all the time, even when you offered a hug. When you were eleven, they didn't show.

At fourteen, Quinn brought a girl. His cousin, Taylor, but you thought she was his girlfriend so you didn't speak for half the trip.

At sixteen, Ty took your first kiss. Quinn punched him, even though you liked it. Ty was almost 18, so you guess it was warranted. At seventeen, Quinn, 18 at the time, told you he was going to college after summer. He might not show up next year. You asked for his phone number the next night, but he was in a rush to get to dinner, so he said 'tomorrow'. You left early the next morning and didn't get to say goodbye. On the entire flight home, you thought 'if Quinn doesn't show, Ty still might.' You didn't know why you wanted Ty to be there. He was almost 20, and still the biggest asshole ever. Even if he was your first kiss. Eighteen, neither of them showed.

But this year it was different. You were on your own in Monaco, 19, waiting to see your best friend again. And maybe his brother. You walked to their spot on the yacht docks and saw a boy walking across the foredeck. Broad shoulders, dark messy hair, the sun making his skin glisten. Scratches scattered his back and you knew it was him. The thick gold signet ring shining against his whiskey glass just confirmed it was Ty.