Neither of you can remember how you got here. One second you were hanging out with the group of Pogues, the next you were alone at sunset on the beach, his arm around your waist and your head on his shoulder

“What are we doing?” He mutters. “I can’t do this to John B. You’re his sister, he’s my best friend.” He lets his arm drop from your waist and stands up, running his fingers through his hair.