Moonchild
Author: Kate L. Mary
Date: 2016-06-09 00:00:00+00:00
Description: In a world fueled by greed and corruption, where airships rule the skies and coalmines have been turned into prisons, Scarlett Moon has one goal: Survive. Being tough and looking out for herself is the only way to stay alive, but when her best friend, Rory, is arrested and returned to the mines, all of Scarlett's carefully built walls threaten to crumble. After being rescued by an airship full of pirates, led by the sexy and irresistible Asher Kimura, Scarlett finds herself surrounded by cons and fugitives, and thrust into the middle of a coal-smuggling business. When they take her to Columbus
Publisher: CreateSpace Publishing

“So you want to move in?”

She was leaning against the other side of the hall with her arms crossed over her chest. It pushed her breasts up and together, giving her even more cleavage than before—which was distracting. I had to work hard at focusing on her face.

“Yup.” I cleared my throat. Eyes. She has eyes, Chris. “As soon as possible. I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.”

She studied me for a second, narrowing her eyes on me even more than she had when she’d first opened the door. “So you got dumped.”

Shit. It wasn’t even a question, which made me want to leave and never come back. What a bitch.

“No,” I snapped, then let out a deep breath. She didn’t need the whole story, but telling her the basics wasn’t going to hurt. Plus, maybe she’d drop it and I’d never have to talk about it again. “I was dating this girl and she broke up with me, then I walked in on her and my best friend in bed together. She lives two doors down from me in the dorm, so the sooner I can get the hell out of there, the better.”

Also by Kate L. Mary

The List
No Regrets

Moving On

Kate L. Mary

LYRICAL SHINE
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

“So you want to move in?”
Also by
Title Page
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Chapter One - Chris
Chapter Two - Bette
Chapter Three - Chris
Chapter Four - Bette
Chapter Five - Chris
Chapter Six - Bette
Chapter Seven - Chris
Chapter Eight - Bette
Chapter Nine - Chris
Chapter Ten - Bette
Chapter Eleven - Chris
Chapter Twelve - Bette
Chapter Thirteen - Chris
Chapter Fourteen - Bette
Chapter Fifteen - Chris
Chapter Sixteen - Bette
Chapter Seventeen - Chris
Chapter Eighteen - Bette
Chapter Nineteen - Chris
Chapter Twenty - Bette
Chapter Twenty-one - Chris
Chapter Twenty-two - Bette
Teaser chapter
Teaser chapter
Copyright Page

For Jeremy, my husband of thirteen years who
loves all of me. Even the stuff that most people find
annoying or weird or unattractive.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A huge thanks to the New Adult Collaborative support group on Facebook for always supporting and listening and cheering me on as I worked my way through this book: Meredith Tate, Amanda Heger, Laura Steven, Annika Sharma, Jessica Ruddick, Marie Meyer, Diana Gardin, Jamie Howard, Marnee Blake, Sophia Henry, Tegan Wren and Ara Grigorian. So glad we found each other and we get to go through this whole process together! A very, very special thank you to Diana Gardin: thanks for not only lending me a character, but for being so excited about it!

Thank you to my editor, Alicia Condon, for allowing me time to sit on the story and revise. A huge thanks to my amazing agent, Stacey Donaghy, for the support and encouragement and hard work. It’s always exciting to get a message from you.

Finally, to my husband and kids, thanks for the love, support, and understanding. For all the help folding laundry and cleaning up the house and making dinner when I had too much editing and writing to do. And most of all, for loving me not despite all my many flaws, but because of them.

Chapter One

Chris

I heard her before I saw her. The twinkling laugh that always made my gut clench and my heart beat harder in my chest. Only this time it felt like someone had jammed a knife into my stomach. Admitting it made me sick, but her laughter was lighter than it had ever been when we were together. More musical. Like she didn’t have a fucking care in the world.

It made me hate Ryan just a little bit more.

I stepped back right before they came into view, ducking into a shadowy doorway so they couldn’t see me. The sun was bright and the rays beat down on Annie’s head, highlighting the gold in her hair. Her soft brown eyes sparkled as she stared up at my former best friend like he was the center of the universe. I almost threw up right there. Annie had never looked at me like that. I’d wanted her to, so badly there had been times I’d felt almost desperate. Like I’d be willing to kill a man just to get her to care about me half as much as I did her. It had been like an obsession. She had been an obsession. Still was.

God, I needed to get away.

There’s a good chance I was going through a little bit of a masochistic phase, because as Annie got closer, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away. Her white-blond hair resembled a halo, and the smile she wore lit up her whole face. Then there was Ryan. My best friend. The guy I’d known and trusted since the age of nine, when I’d come to his rescue. If it hadn’t been for me, those older boys would have beaten the shit out of him. And this was how he repaid me. Stealing my girl.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying when they walked by, but whatever it was, they were smiling like two idiots in love. Which made me clench my hands into fists until I felt like my bones were on the verge of breaking. I had to fight the urge to run out and push Ryan away from her. Or worse. Watching them made me feel like someone had reached into my chest and dug their fingers into my heart, but I still couldn’t look away.

It had been almost a week since I’d walked in on them in bed—naked—and I still saw it every time I closed my eyes. If I could wash the memory from my brain, I would. And not just that moment. All of it. Meeting Annie, dating her, falling in love like an idiot. All of it made me hate myself for being weak. But of course I was stuck with it. Nothing I did would change what had happened.

Since finding out about them, I’d barely left my dorm room. Things weren’t getting better. Especially with me living only a few doors down from Annie. Every time I stepped out of my room I had to worry I’d run into her. That’s why I’d decided to move. I had to get away or I’d go crazy.

When Ryan and Annie had finally disappeared into the crowd, I left my hiding place. The sidewalks were crowded for a Friday in February, which for some reason only made me feel more alone as I headed downtown. I’d always loved Charleston, but at the moment I felt trapped.

I’d found an ad in the coffee shop yesterday, someone looking for a roommate, and it had seemed like the logical solution. A change of scenery would help keep me from losing my mind. They needed a roommate and I needed to get out of the dorms. Fast.

I pulled out my phone as I turned the corner onto the correct road, double-checking the address from the text I’d gotten earlier. When I found the right place I stopped in front of it. It was one of those historic Charleston row houses with a porch on both the first and second stories. It was white and old, and even though it had probably been a really nice house when it was first built, the years had left it looking a little worn. But it wasn’t awful. Some peeling paint here and there didn’t bug me, and for the most part it looked decent, considering it had to be over a hundred years old. The historical society probably made sure the owners kept it up.

The neighborhood was nice too. All the houses had iron fences in front of them, and most had neatly manicured landscaping. The street was cobblestone and lined with cars. Most of the nearby houses were in great condition, which wasn’t a surprise. These homes may have been on the small side, but living in the historic sections of downtown Charleston was prestigious. A status symbol almost on par with owning a BMW.

It wasn’t what I’d had in mind for myself, though. Sure, I’d wanted to move out of the dorms next year, but I’d also wanted to live with friends. Specifically Ryan. That had been the plan, anyway. I hadn’t been able to swing it this year, but somehow I was going to make it work when the fall semester came around. Now, I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do. Living with a stranger was going to suck, especially when I wasn’t thrilled to be here anyway, but it made it ten times worse that it was a chick.

Maybe transferring to another school was a better idea.

I took a deep breath right before forcing myself to knock on the front door, then shoved my hands in my pockets while I waited. She was expecting me, so I didn’t have to wait long.

The door opened less than a minute later, and I almost took a step back when she narrowed her emerald eyes on my face. It felt like she was trying to size me up. She was a helluva lot prettier than I’d expected. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that my possible roommate might be attractive.

Of course, thinking she was attractive and being attracted to her were two different things. This chick wasn’t my type in the least. Her right nostril was pierced and she had another piercing on the left side, right above her lip—Monroe piercing, I think they called it. The lipstick she wore was a deep shade of red, and her eyeliner was thick and dark, drawn into a little point at the corner of her eyes that reminded me of a cat. There was no way the bright red color of her hair was real, and she dressed like she was stuck somewhere between the 1950s and the present. A tattoo was just visible on her left arm, peeking out of her sleeve, and even though I could only see the bottom half of it, the thing looked pretty massive. It had to go all the way to her shoulder.

No, she wasn’t my type at all. Then again, no one was my type but Annie.

A few piercings and tattoos didn’t mean shit to me, though. I sure as hell wasn’t looking for a girlfriend or a quick lay. What I was looking for was a way to escape, and she had a room.

“You must be Chris?” she said, drawing her lips into a little pout that made her look like she was anticipating a kiss.

I nodded, but couldn’t bring myself to talk. For some insane reason, being there made me feel like I was hitting rock bottom.

She didn’t seem to even register my lack of response as she stepped aside, motioning for me to enter. “I’m Bette. Come on in.”

I did a quick look around as I stepped in, but to be honest nothing really stuck out. The place was plain, sparsely furnished with secondhand stuff and a handful of pictures on the walls. Seemed like she either hadn’t lived there long, or she hadn’t really taken the time to decorate. Maybe both.

“Nice to meet you,” I mumbled as she shut the door behind me.

“Don’t sound so excited.” Bette rolled her eyes like she was already tired of talking to me, then waved her arm over the room. “So .. . this is the living room, as you can see. Follow me and I’ll show you the rest of the place, then we can discuss the details if you’re interested.”

I shrugged, and her eyebrows shot up. They were so dark and perfect that I found myself wondering if she’d drawn them on. I leaned closer so I could get a better look, but they seemed real. My eyes swept down, and I did my best to get a better look at the tattoo on her arm. It was a tree or something, but all that was visible was the trunk. Looked pretty impressive, even if I’d never really been a tattoo kind of guy.

As my gaze moved up, I found myself suddenly distracted by the way her shirt dipped between her breasts. It showed off a nice amount of cleavage. Nothing too slutty, though. Just enough to give a little taste and leave a guy wanting more. I may have still been hung up on Annie, but I was still a guy, and there were some things I just didn’t have control over.

Bette cleared her throat, drawing my attention back to her face, but she didn’t comment on my gawking before she headed off to show me the rest of the place. I followed her through the house silently, checking it out as she gave the tour. It was nice and clean, but a little outdated. The kitchen appliances had to have been bought in the fifties, which probably made this chick feel right at home, and the dining room had a small, cheap table and four chairs. Downstairs, there was also a half bathroom and a decent-size laundry room with a washer and dryer, which would be a nice change from living in the dorm. The wood floors were probably the original back from when this place was built, and I knew enough about construction to realize that was a good thing. The place was small, but not bad. Better than a dorm room even if I wasn’t at risk of running into my ex-girlfriend.

I was right on Bette’s heels when she headed up the stairs, and they creaked under our feet as we went up. “There are three bedrooms. I’m in one and the second I use as my studio slash office.” She glanced over her shoulder like she wanted to be sure I was still there. I hadn’t said a word since she’d started showing me around, so I guess it made sense. “I’m studying photography and trying to get a business started. The third bedroom is up for grabs.” She paused when she got to the top of the stairs and looked over her shoulder again, narrowing her eyes on my face. “There’s only one full bathroom and I don’t tolerate bathroom hogs. So jerk off in your own room. K?”

I coughed and my face actually got warm. She was a little more blunt than I was used to. I grew up with a mom who coated everything—even criticism—in sugar.

“Okay . . .” I mumbled, struggling to meet her gaze.

Bette rolled her eyes, then continued down the hall. She stopped in front of a room and pushed the door open. “You don’t need to get all embarrassed. It’s not a big secret.”

I didn’t respond, mostly because I had nothing to say to that. I wasn’t in the habit of talking to strangers about my alone time.

Bette motioned toward the room so I went ahead and stepped in. It wasn’t huge, but it was big enough. Plus, I had nothing. No bed or mattresses, no dresser or table or TV. Furnishing it would take all the money I’d saved over the summer, which meant I could pretty much kiss going down to Florida for spring break goodbye. Not that I was going to make the trip with Ryan like I’d been planning to, anyway. At least I’d already found a job, thanks to a buddy of mine who bartended downtown. That would help.

“How much do I need to give you up front?” I asked, turning to face Bette.

She was leaning against the other side of the hall with her arms crossed over her chest. It pushed her breasts up and together, giving her even more cleavage than before—which was distracting. I had to work hard at focusing on her face.

“So you want to move in?”

“Yup.” I cleared my throat. Eyes. She has eyes, Chris. “As soon as possible. I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.”

She studied me for a second, narrowing her eyes on me even more than she had when she first opened the door. “So you got dumped.”

Shit. It wasn’t even a question, which made me want to leave and never come back. What a bitch.

“No,” I snapped, then let out a deep breath. She didn’t need the whole story, but telling her the basics wasn’t going to hurt. Plus, maybe she’d drop it and I’d never have to talk about it again. “I was dating this girl and she broke up with me, then I walked in on her and my best friend in bed together. She lives two doors down from me in the dorm, so the sooner I can get the hell out of there, the better.”

Bette nodded as she pushed herself off the wall, then gave me a sympathetic smile. “Okay. First month’s rent, which I’ll prorate. I don’t need a deposit, but if you destroy the place I’ll sue your ass. This house means more to me than all my other possessions put together and I don’t want anyone living here who can’t respect that. Got it?”

It took a second for my brain to wrap around her words. “Wait, do you own this place?”

I’d kind of thought she was renting it too, but she seemed a little too possessive to just be paying rent. She was pretty young to be a homeowner, though. Couldn’t be much older than me, maybe twenty-three at the most.

“Yeah. Inherited it from an aunt. I love the place and refuse to give it up, but I can’t afford the taxes and stuff on my own, plus I want to fix it up.” She shrugged and turned toward the stairs, calling over her shoulder, “Move in whenever you want.”

So I had a place, which was a huge load off my mind, but I needed to get my stuff. And I didn’t have a car. I’d always borrowed Ryan’s in the past, but of course that was out of the question now. Maybe I’d be able to get Blake to help me out, but it would be a few days before he could do it. He was a bartender and the weekends were his busiest time. Shit. I needed my stuff.

“Wait!” I called, stepping toward her. Hopefully she had a car and was willing to throw me a bone.

Bette stopped and turned to face me, and I ran my hand through my hair. I hated to ask her for help when I didn’t really know her, but at the moment most of my friends were also Ryan’s and . . . Well, let’s just say I was trying to avoid all those people.

“I don’t have a car and I need to get my stuff moved out of the dorm. I don’t suppose you have one?”

Bette pursed her lips for the third time, then nodded once. “Yeah. No problem. You packed? I can take you over there now.”

Holy shit, she may have been blunt as hell, but she was easygoing too. Maybe living with her wouldn’t be so bad?

“Yeah. I packed my stuff up yesterday. Can’t wait to get the hell out.”

“I get it,” she said, turning back to the stairs. “Come on.”

I followed her down the steps of my new house, feeling a little better than I had earlier. Now all I had to do was make it out of the dorm without running into Annie. I was torn between hoping she was at Ryan’s and wanting to puke at the thought.

“I have an air mattress and some extra sheets if you want to use them until you can get a bed,” Bette said when we were halfway down the stairs.

I had the sudden urge to kiss this chick. “Yeah. That would be awesome.”

I was trying to maneuver a giant box out of my room when Cami almost slammed into me. “Shit! Sorry, Chris, I didn’t see you there.”

My entire body tensed, but I couldn’t look her in the eye. I was too focused on looking behind her as I said a silent prayer that Annie wasn’t around. Thankfully, the coast was clear, but I still didn’t relax. Running into Cami wasn’t as bad as running into Annie or Ryan, but it wasn’t good. She wouldn’t be able to keep her nose out of this, and I wasn’t interested in an argument.

“Yeah,” I said, still refusing to meet her gaze. “No problem.”

Cami’s brown eyes narrowed on the box I was holding like she suspected there might be a bomb in it. “What’s going on?”

“I’m moving.” I had the urge to be childish and throw a duh in there, but I bit my tongue. The less I talked to her, the sooner I could get out of there.

I headed for the elevator, practically running to get away, but Cami was right behind me. The click of her heels against the floor was faster than my pounding heart, and every step she took made the muscles in my body tighten even more. I wanted away from her and this place and every single thing that reminded me of Annie and Ryan, but of course Cami couldn’t understand that.

“What?” Her voice was all high and squeaky, the way it got when she didn’t understand something. “You can’t be moving!”

“Why’s that?” I did my best to sound emotionless even though my whole body felt like it was made of steel. I doubt it worked, but even if it did, Cami wouldn’t pick up on it. She was lost in her own little world of disbelief. Like it was a surprise that I was pissed off about what had happened.

When we reached the elevator, I glanced at Cami long enough to see that she still had her eyes narrowed on my face. She looked ready to pounce.

“Because it’s weird. Plus, I thought you couldn’t afford it,” she said, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder.

“I found someone who needed a roommate and I got a job as a waiter at a restaurant downtown. It doesn’t matter. I can’t stay here.”

I shifted the box so I could hit the button, and my thumb slammed into it so hard I was afraid I’d broken a couple bones. Cami kept staring at me, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of looking her way.

“What the hell, Chris? So you’re just never going to forgive Ryan?”

My face warmed and I had to suck in a slow, deep breath to keep from exploding. Cami was Ryan’s cousin—and Annie’s roommate—so of course she’d come to his defense. But it still pissed me off. I may not be family, but Cami and I had known each other since we were kids, and it made me see red that she couldn’t at least try to look at it from my side.

“It’s none of your business, Cami.” My jaw was so tight that the words hissed their way through my teeth.

“Like hell,” she said.

The elevator door opened and I hurried to get away, but of course she followed. Why the hell couldn’t she leave it alone?

Cami crossed her arms and tapped her toe. She looked as pissed as I felt. Almost like she was ready to hit me. “Grow up, Chris.”

“I loved her and Ryan knew it.” Once again, I couldn’t open my mouth wide enough, so the words had to push their way between my clenched teeth. I felt like my jaw had been fused shut.

“Well, Ryan loves her too,” Cami snapped. “He’s supposed to be your best friend. Don’t you want him to be happy?”

My jaw tightened more than I thought possible and I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to respond, but somehow I managed. “He sure as hell didn’t care about how happy I was.”

“Bullshit. He liked her from the first second they met, but he held back because of you. You can be hurt, but you can’t throw your friendship away. At least talk to him!”

The door opened and Cami stepped in front of me, but this time I didn’t hesitate to shove her aside. I wanted out of here. Away from her and the dorm and the threat of seeing Annie. Away from this whole damn city, if I was being honest. But there was nowhere for me to go except my new place.

My arms were shaking when I walked outside. Bette was waiting by her car, an old silver SUV that had seen better days but still ran. It was more than I had, so I couldn’t complain.

“Good Lord, you look like you’re ready to explode,” she said.

I slid the box into the back with my other things, then glanced toward the building. Cami was standing at the door, watching me through the window. At least she hadn’t followed me outside. But she wasn’t done with her lecture, not by a long shot. I could tell by how narrowed her eyes were. Too bad I wasn’t giving her a chance. I only had a couple more things, and none of it was that important. It could wait.

“I’m done for now,” I said, turning my back to Cami. “There are only two boxes left, so I’ll come back for them later.”

Bette followed my gaze. She had to see Cami standing there, and she most likely thought this was the girl who had screwed me over. I didn’t want to talk about it, though, so I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to leave.

Bette shrugged and slammed the door. “Your call.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, heading to the passenger seat. “I just want to move on.”

Chapter Two

Bette

“You’ll be coming home for Christmas, right, Mark?”

The woman’s nasal voice was a mix between Fran Drescher and Janice from Friends, and it was starting to get on my nerves big time. Her name was Joan or Jan or Judy, or something just as average. I couldn’t remember. Mark had introduced me to his parents when they’d first arrived, but I’d barely paid attention. Their names didn’t matter. In fact, not knowing their names sometimes helped.

That’s what these guys were paying me for, after all. The end goal was freedom, but getting there meant making their parents hate the girl they were dating. After they met me—or at least the me I pretended to be for these little dates—anyone else they brought home seemed like a dream. It was easy, actually. It took a lot more work getting people to like you than it did getting them to dislike you.

“I’m not sure, Mom . . .”

Mark shot me a pleading look that reminded me of a puppy dog begging for a treat. My eyes twitched and I had to blink to keep from rolling them. Why these guys couldn’t just grow a pair and tell Mommy and Daddy they weren’t ready to settle down was beyond me. Of course, if they did that I’d be out of business, and my job was pretty much a cake walk.

I did my best to be sympathetic. I knew firsthand how hard it was to stand up to your parents and choose your own way, which was part of the reason I’d started doing this. Still, it was kind of sad how much Mark let his parents call the shots.

I swallowed the last few drops of my cosmo—my second since sitting down—then ran a bloodred nail over my equally red lips as I scanned the restaurant for our waiter. When my gaze landed on my new roommate, my perfectly formed mask slipped away.

What was Chris doing here?

He stood next to a table on the other side of the room, and it looked like he was taking an order. I guess he was a waiter? I’d never seen him here before, so he had to be new. It was strange that my new roommate would end up working at this restaurant, but there was no other explanation. He wore a white button-up shirt and black tie, and black pants that actually made his ass look really nice. I hadn’t paid attention to it before now, but in those pants it was hard to miss.

Of course, I’d noticed how attractive Chris was the moment I opened my front door. Thick brown hair and smooth brown eyes, broad shoulders. Really nice arms. He had an adorable crooked smile—when he bothered to smile, that is. He was classically good-looking, but the guy was damaged and I didn’t have time to fix someone. Not that either one of us was looking for a relationship, anyway. He was still hung up on his ex, and I don’t date.

Chris finished with his table and disappeared into the kitchen, bringing me back to the present. There was time to figure him out later, but at the moment I had business to take care of. Starting with getting a new drink. I finally caught sight of my own waiter and lifted my empty glass, waving it his way.

When I turned back to face my date, Mark was still staring at me with those adorable baby blues of his. Judy, Joan, or Jane gazed at her son lovingly, like he was still a toddler in diapers. Some women couldn’t stand to cut the cord.

“Aren’t we going to Cabo for Christmas?” I asked Mark, delivering a perfect pout. “You promised.” The words came out sounding like a purr as I tickled his arm with my pointed nail.

Mark grinned and took my hand. “I know, baby.”

I worked hard to keep my face smooth even though I was cringing on the inside. There was nothing worse than a guy calling me baby. It reminded me of my asshole ex, who was someone I would be okay never thinking about again.

Outwardly, though, I smiled and batted my lashes as I leaned closer. Joan or Jan or Judy sighed loudly when I pressed my lips against the corner of Mark’s mouth and squeezed my eyes shut. My breasts brushed his arm, and her sharp intake of breath made me smile wickedly against his mouth. It was working like a charm.

As usual.

Mark’s dad cleared his throat and I pulled back. My smile didn’t fade. Not even when I met the old man’s gaze. He thought he could intimidate me with a glare, but he was wrong. I wasn’t in this for their approval.

He was as distinguished-looking as they usually were. Dark suit and tie, perfectly-in-place hair that was graying slightly at the temples. Expression that could freeze the devil in his tracks. He was used to intimidating people with just one look. Too bad it didn’t work on me.

I patted my hair into place as I casually leaned back in my chair, like making out in a restaurant was an everyday occurrence for me. It kind of was, but these people didn’t know that.

“Cabo?” Mark’s father said. His voice boomed through the restaurant and an older couple at the next table turned to stare.

Mark cleared his throat. He sounded exactly like his father, minus the confidence. “Well, yes. We, um. We were talking about it, but nothing is set in stone.”

Nothing like the disapproving stare of a father to turn a self-assured guy to mush.

Mark’s dad crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes on his son. His mom looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her bottom lip actually quivered.

It was the perfect opportunity for me to pop open my clutch and pull out a cigarette. I placed it between my lips as I slipped a lighter from my purse. The lights glinted off the silver metal when I flipped it open.

The flame was less than an inch from the cigarette when Mark’s father turned on me. “You can’t smoke that in here.”

I smiled and flicked the lighter shut. Right on cue.

“Of course.” I pushed my chair back and stood, giving Mark a quick peck on the cheek. When I pulled back, I made sure my lips brushed against his ear. “It’s going perfectly.”

I smoothed down my skirt. Holding the cigarette between my index and middle fingers, I waved it in front of the table. “I’ll just take this outside.”

Mark’s dad didn’t even glance my way. His mom frowned toward the cigarette.

I was grinning to myself when I turned away from the table. My red heels clicked against the wood floor as I wove my way through the restaurant. A few people eyed me suspiciously, like I was in the wrong place and I should know better. I wasn’t, but people like that could never be convinced otherwise. I’d decided a long time ago I wouldn’t let narrow-minded people dictate who I was or what I could do, and that included where I ate.

Blake caught my eye from behind the bar, and I flashed him a grin. He shook his head as he returned the smile, his eyes following the sway of my hips in my black pencil skirt like he wished he were the one hugging my curves.

I paused and leaned against the counter. “Keep those drinks coming, Blake.”

“I know the drill,” he said, staring pointedly at my cleavage. “How are Mom and Dad Moneybags doing? Do I need to call 911 yet?”

A laugh popped out of my mouth as I held up the cigarette. “Soon.”

Blake’s smile grew wider. He crossed his arms over the bar and leaned closer, and the muscles in his biceps flexed. I did my best to avoid looking right at them. Those things were dangerous weapons and I was perfectly aware of my weakness. Of course, the dimples in his cheeks weren’t any safer, and neither were his soft blue eyes. Then there was his sandy hair . . .

Damn. Guys like Blake were just too much. Not just hot, but sweet and generous too. The one chink in my armor. The kryptonite that could turn me from a self-sufficient woman to a puddle of goo on the restaurant floor.

Best to avoid him as much as possible.

“Keep them coming. I’ll be back,” I said, turning away from the weapon of mass destruction in front of me.

The air outside had a slight chill to it, instantly making me miss summer. Sure, when July and August rolled around, the nights usually felt like a sauna, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. There was something about Charleston that had gotten under my skin. It lived in me now. Was a part of my soul. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Especially not my little hometown in Georgia.

The sidewalks were crowded with college students, families, and tourists. It was almost seven o’clock and downtown was the place to be. The sun kissed the horizon, and in the distance the sky had morphed from light blue into bright orange. By the time it was black the family-friendly crowd would be replaced by the serious partygoers. The sidewalks would be full of barely dressed girls in search of free drinks, and frat guys who were looking for a good time. The clubs and bars would be crowded and thick with sweat. It was my favorite time of the night. I needed to wrap this thing up so I could head out too. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck with Ma and Pa Snooty-ton when I could be out enjoying the night.

I shoved the cigarette back in my purse and palmed my lighter. I didn’t smoke, but it helped with the persona. Parents who had high expectations for their kids tended to get pissed off when they dated a chick who was not only filled with holes and covered in tattoos, but also smoked.

A guy passing on the sidewalk paused and looked me up and down. The t-shirt he wore was tight and stretched over his muscled chest and broad shoulders, emphasizing the fact that he worked out. A lot. His eyes were dark, and the color of his black hair probably matched his heart. Intricately drawn tattoos snaked up both arms, which he flexed when my eyes moved over them. I knew his type.

“Nice tat.” He tilted his head toward my left arm.

I glanced down even though I already knew what the tattoo looked like. The willow tree started just above my elbow and traveled up my arm to my shoulder. The branches were long and sinewy, curling and twisting like the tree was being slammed by a windstorm. They traveled over my shoulder and down my back. A few even wrapped around my forearm like a band.

“Thanks,” I said meeting his gaze.

He looked at me expectantly, as if I were supposed to compliment him on his tattoos too. It almost made me laugh. I never did anything unless I wanted to. Not anymore.

The guy frowned, then looked at the sign above my head. “You here with someone? A boyfriend?”

“More like a business dinner,” I said with a shrug.

“What kind of business?”

“Just a little service I started. I’m an entrepreneur.”

The guy laughed like he was in on some private joke. “Sounds like fun. You done soon? We could maybe meet. You know Mike’s?”

“I know Mike’s.”

Mike’s was one of my typical hangouts. I went there a lot to take pictures of local bands since that was what I really wanted to do with my life. Not this bullshit job I was on tonight. This was just a way to make some quick and easy money so I could fix up the house. Missy had always wanted to do it herself, but with everything that had happened, she hadn’t been able to afford it. Doing it for her was a good way to honor her memory, at least in my mind. My mom would probably say something different.

“Maybe I’ll see you there?” the guy said, bringing me back to the present. He nodded expectantly, acting like I’d just promised he’d get to see me naked later. Wasn’t going to happen, though.

I barely looked at him as I turned toward the restaurant, calling over my shoulder, “Maybe.”

If I went, it wouldn’t be to see him.

The food had arrived by the time I made it back to the table. Mark’s face was red and his dad looked ready to explode. No one had touched their meal. I wasn’t sure if they’d waited to be polite or to try to make me feel bad. Either way, it didn’t matter. It played into my plan perfectly.

“Oh good, my drink’s here.”

I pressed a kiss to Mark’s temple, then slid into my chair. His parents watched me tip the glass to my lips and down half the drink in one gulp. When the glass was back on the table, I let out a big sigh and studied my medium-rare fillet. It smelled delicious.

“Yummy.”

I slid my knife across the meat with Mark’s parents watching every move I made. No one else moved to touch their food, but I acted like I hadn’t noticed. They were waiting for an apology. I knew the drill. They wouldn’t be getting one, though. Mark wasn’t paying me to be polite.

When I took the first big bite of my steak, I let out an exaggerated sigh. The meat was tender and juicy, and possibly the best thing I’d tasted all year.

“So good,” I said.

Jane or Judy or Joan sighed.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you, Bette.” Mark’s mom was polite all the way to the end. Poor woman.

I kept my eyes focused on my phone. “Yeah.” I typed a quick text to Blake, simply because I needed to send Mark’s parents one final reason to hate me.

Bette: I could have used one more drink.

Mark shuffled his feet, and his father didn’t say a word. Their shiny black BMW pulled to a stop next to the curb, and the valet stepped out of the driver’s seat. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Mark’s parents climbed in, but made sure to make it look like I was completely focused on my phone.

Blake: They looked like an even more miserable bunch than usual.

I laughed as the car door slammed.

Bette: At least we didn’t get kicked out of the restaurant tonight.

The car pulled away and Mark exhaled. He slumped against the wall. “That was horrible.”

I finally looked up.

Mark was usually a confident guy. A conceited ass, if I was being honest, but confident. At that moment, though, he reminded me of a wounded puppy. It was kind of sad, and even though I didn’t really care for him, I found myself feeling bad. Figures.

“Actually, that was perfect.” I tucked my phone into my purse and arched an eyebrow at him. “You wanted them to meet the girl you’re seeing so they’d get off your back about settling down, right?”

“Mission accomplished,” he grumbled.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You should have heard the lecture I got when you went outside to smoke.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re twenty-four years old, Mark. Who cares?”

He exhaled as he pushed himself off the wall. “You don’t know my parents.”

“Actually, I do. I have dinner with people exactly like your parents almost every weekend.”

Not to mention the fact that I had my own set of parents with their own overwhelming set of expectations. Of course, that was personal and something I wouldn’t be sharing with the guy standing in front of me.

Mark shook his head while he pulled his wallet out. Then came the part I loved. The reason I spent my weekends playing the part of a coldhearted bitch. He counted out five crisp one hundred dollar bills, and my hands just itched to hold the money.

“How can you stand it?” he asked. “All those people hating you?”

Why does he have such a need for approval? I mean, I got it, but I didn’t. I’d played that game for years and it had made my parents happy, but not me. Finally, I accepted that if I wanted to like who I was, I was going to have to find my own way in life. Plus, Mark’s parents were total strangers. Why should I care if they liked me? I liked me, and as far as I was concerned, that was the important part.

Mark held the cash out and I snatched it from his hand. “I can stand doing this because it’s not really me. It’s a job. A performance. You think I would act that way if I were going to meet a guy’s parents for real? No way! Besides, if someone doesn’t like me for me, then they aren’t worth my time.”

I tucked the money into my clutch and gave Mark a sympathetic smile. Even though I didn’t like him, I could identify with him and his need to make his parents happy. It was a tough thing to shake.

“Good luck with your parents.” I turned back to the restaurant, and almost as an afterthought, I threw over my shoulder, “Oh, and don’t forget to tell your friends about me!”

When I got back inside, Blake already had a drink waiting for me on the bar.

“You are a lifesaver,” I said, almost sounding breathless.

I took the glass as I slid into a seat, and for a reason I couldn’t really figure out, I found myself scanning the room for Chris. We’d barely spoken since he moved in last month, and the guy wasn’t even a little bit my type. Still, I couldn’t help being curious about him. He seemed kind of lost, which was something I could sympathize with.

“I’m just glad there were no fights tonight,” Blake said, drawing my attention his way. “I hate having to plead your case to my boss every time. Why don’t you mix it up? Go somewhere else to eat every now and then?”

I sipped my drink, then flashed him a dazzling smile. I’d had three cosmos during the meal, and was already feeling a bit looser than usual. “Because this is the most expensive restaurant in the city, and I like to live lavishly.”

Blake chuckled and shook his head. “On someone else’s dime.”

“It’s the only way.” I tipped my drink toward him, then took another sip.

“So, this is number four?” Blake asked, gesturing toward the glass in my hand.

I nodded, then braced myself for our typical weekend routine. One of these days, I was going to have one too many and give in. Blake knew it too, which was why he kept asking. I probably should take his advice and go somewhere else. It would be safer. Blake was temptation incarnate.

“Since you’re already feeling good,” Blake began, “why don’t we call it a night and head back to my place?”

There it was. It would be an amazing offer if I were someone different. Still, there was a part of me just dying to know what it felt like to have those strong arms wrapped around me. To dig my nails into his broad shoulders while Blake . . .

I blinked away the thought and took another drink, like the alcohol would somehow clear my head of the images and make saying no easier. It wouldn’t. It never did. I wasn’t a one-night stand kind of person, plus that wasn’t what Blake was referring to. He genuinely liked me. What had started as a business arrangement—he secured me a table at the restaurant and helped out when I was in a jam—had become something more. Blake actually wanted to date me, only I wasn’t having it. Dating was a no-no for me. At least right now.

“You know my answer, Blake. I like hanging out with you as a friend, but that’s all I can do right now.”

He tilted his head and the dimples he flashed my way almost made me give in. “One of these days I’m going to wear you down.”

I threw back the rest of my drink and pulled a crisp bill out of my purse. “Maybe. But for now, I’m going to have to respectfully decline.”

Blake laughed as he took the money. He shoved it in his pocket, then tucked his sandy hair behind his ear. His blue eyes moved toward a girl at the other end of the bar. She was tall and leggy, and her red dress left little to the imagination. I squirmed while the girl undressed Blake with her eyes.

For a brief second I found myself considering what it would be like to give in. It wouldn’t be awful. In fact, dating Blake might even be nice.

But no. Dating was out of the question. I needed to focus on my career, and I wasn’t ready to have my heart trampled on again.

I turned away from the bar when my resolve began to melt. I needed to get somewhere safe, and fast. Mike’s had seemed like a good idea earlier, but thinking about the tattooed hellion I’d run into made me change my mind. He’d no doubt be looking for me, and while the free drinks would be nice, the saying no part always sucked. I wasn’t in the mood, so I decided to do the crazy thing and head home.

“Have a good night, Blake,” I called, waving over my shoulder as I headed out.

Chapter Three

Chris

Bette was stretched out on the couch when I got home from work, which was unusual. I’d only lived with her for a few weeks and we’d barely spoken, other than that first day, but from what I could tell she was hardly ever home. Especially on a Saturday night.

“You sick?” I asked, eyeing her as I dropped my keys onto the small table next to the door.

She was wearing glasses, and the frames were thick and black. Retro just like everything else she wore. I’d never seen her in them before now, so I could only assume she usually wore contacts. They looked good on her, though. Of course, everything she wore looked good on her, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. She was also dressed more casually than usual, wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a tight purple tank top that hugged her chest. It also showed off her tattoo, which I hadn’t managed to get a good look at before. A willow tree with branches that wrapped around her arm and back. It was pretty, if you were into that kind of thing. Which I wasn’t. I was into simple girls. The kind who hardly wore makeup and liked to watch football. That’s who Annie had been when I met her.

Damn. If only I could get that girl out of my mind.

Bette twisted around on the couch until she was facing me, and her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose just a bit. “No. Just decided to take the night off. Well, not really. I had a job earlier, but those don’t last long.” She pushed her glasses up with her middle finger, her green eyes holding mine the whole time.

“What kind of job? Taking pictures?”

I loosened my tie and for some reason found myself walking over to join her. When I lowered myself into the overstuffed chair, I let out a big sigh. My feet hurt and I was in a horrible mood. I hated waiting tables and I hated that I’d had to get a job. College was supposed to be fun. But the year had turned to shit and I wasn’t sure where the hell I was going from here. I’d been skipping classes and I knew my grades sucked, but I couldn’t make myself care. All I cared about was staying as far away from Annie and Ryan as possible.

“No, not the photography. I have another business of sorts,” she said with a shrug, acting like she didn’t really care to talk about it. “I actually saw you tonight, though.”

My eyebrows shot up and I paused in the middle of unbuttoning my shirt. “You were at the restaurant?”

“My work takes me there a lot.” She adjusted her frames as she scooted up to a sitting position, and I tried not to notice the way her tits bounced. “Blake hooks me up with the reservations.”

I cleared my throat and focused on her eyes. They were a safe place to look. “Blake?”

“The bartender.”

“Oh, I know him,” I said, nodding. “He got me the job there, actually. We’re in a couple classes together and when I mentioned I needed something, he said they had an opening. It sucks, but the tips are okay.”

I was more than a little shocked I hadn’t noticed Bette there. It was a classy restaurant, and with that red hair of hers she probably really stood out in a place like that. Or in any place, for that matter.

“What kind of business do you have that would take you an expensive place like that? Food critic?” I really didn’t care, but she was staring at me with her lips pursed and there was something about the expression that I found distracting.

She shrugged and the pout fell away as her lips curled into a smile. “I help wealthy guys get what they want. Sometimes it’s from an ex-girlfriend, sometimes their parents.”

That told me nothing. “By doing what?”

“Well, with the parents it usually involves me acting like a bitch.” My mouth fell open and she laughed. “Guys take me out when they want their parents to lay off. Sometimes they have a girlfriend their parents aren’t thrilled about, and taking me out helps smooth things over. Sometimes, Mommy and Daddy want their son to settle down. Get married. They meet me and poof, their son being single for a little bit longer doesn’t sound like such a big deal. Occasionally there’s a guy who wants to make his ex-girlfriend jealous, but I try to steer clear of those jobs as much as possible. I’m not into cat fights on a Friday night.”

I coughed when the image of Bette and another girl getting into a cat fight went through my head. What the hell was wrong with me? “So, um . . . basically, guys pay you to go out to dinner with them?”

“And act like a bitch. Don’t forget that part.” She ran her hands through her hair, pulling it back and twisting it into a knot so she could secure it with a hairband.

“You make money off that?”

“Sure. Lots of rich people around here. You’d be surprised the expectations they put on their kids.”

I studied her for a few seconds in silence, and her green eyes never moved from my face. She seemed like a confident person, but there was something about the whole thing that bugged me. I knew the kind of rich people she was talking about, and I couldn’t imagine she got a very warm reception from them. Especially if she walked in on the arm of their son. It seemed kind of demeaning, if I was being totally honest.

My eyes moved down to her tattoo, then back up to her face. “You do this every weekend?” I asked, choosing my words carefully. “Go out to eat with people who don’t like you and let them treat you like shit?”

Her shoulders stiffened. Okay, I guess I wasn’t careful enough.

“It’s good money,” she snapped. “Plus, it’s only temporary. I told you I’m trying to get a photography business off the ground. Then there’s the house. It’s a lot of responsibility, even if I didn’t want to fix it up, but I do.”

It seemed like a particularly shitty way for her to spend her free time, but it wasn’t my life. Maybe she was a stronger person than me.

“Okay,” I said, sitting forward so I could finish unbuttoning my dress shirt. It smelled like the restaurant and I wanted it off. “So what about the photography? What’s your plan there?”

She arched her brows at me and crossed her arms over her chest. It pushed her breasts up and out, and made my brain almost stop functioning as every ounce of blood in my body moved to my crotch.

Focus on her eyes, Chris. Don’t look down.

An impossible task.

“Are you my dad now?”

Hell, no. If I were her dad, the thoughts going through my head would be totally disgusting . . .

“Just curious.” I leaned forward and slipped my shirt off, but the white tee underneath still stank. “I smell like I should be on the menu,” I muttered as I pulled it over my head and dropped it to the floor along with my dress shirt.

Bette’s nose scrunched up as she stared at my discarded shirts. “You can’t just throw your clothes on the floor.”

“Relax, I’m going to pick them up. I know what a neat-freak you are.” I rolled my eyes, but grinned. “So what do you like to take pictures of?”

Bette exhaled and gave my clothes one last glance before scooting back onto the couch a little more. She probably couldn’t see them from that angle.

“Anything, really,” she said. “Living in Charleston makes it easy. There’s lots of history, and the beaches, but the nightlife is awesome. That’s what I’m working on now. Going to clubs and bars, taking pictures. There’s this one bar I especially like to go to on Friday nights when local bands and singers perform. I’ve gotten to know a couple pretty well who are just starting out like me, and they use my pictures on their websites or Facebook fan pages. If one of them makes it big, who knows? Maybe it could help me out too.”

That seemed to fit her better.

“I like that. Sounds like an exciting job to have, and you’d be good at it. I’ve seen your work around the house.” I pointed to a few framed pictures hanging on the wall. “You know what you’re doing.”

Bette turned to look at the pictures. A group of six bunched together above the TV. Just like she’d said, they were all different, but all Charleston. Folly Beach, the gardens at Magnolia Plantation, the Pineapple Fountain at Waterfront Park. Then there were three that were taken at night. A group of young women dressed up and walking down the sidewalk, passing the open-air market—closed for the evening, of course. There was another of a crowded bar, and the third was a musician on a stage, playing the guitar as he sang into the microphone in front of him. The lights at his back shadowed his face, contrasting perfectly with the dark atmosphere. Bette really did have a good eye.

She flashed me a huge smile when she turned back to face me. “Those are my favorites, although I have dozens of others I love. Too many to hang them all up, that’s for sure.”

“I’d love to see them sometime,” I said, leaning back.

Bette’s smile didn’t fade as her eyes swept over my bare chest. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, her teeth digging into the plump, red lip. For some insane reason, I felt like she was checking me out, but that couldn’t be right. Still, the look she was giving me made every hair on my scalp tingle, and I couldn’t help wondering what was really going through her head. No way were her thoughts as filthy as the ones that had gone through my head only a little bit earlier.

Bette tore her eyes away from me and let out a deep breath. “What about you? What are you planning to do with your life?”

“You mean what am I going to be when I grow up?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood, which suddenly felt way too intimate to me.

She laughed, and a few strands of red hair fell from her ponytail when she nodded. “Something like that.”

“I don’t have a clue, to be honest. I always picture myself married with kids, but that’s as far as I’ve gotten. I’m good at math, so I’m taking a lot of accounting classes.” I shrugged, realizing for the first time how lost that made me sound. Especially the part about marriage, considering all the shit I’d just gone through with Annie. Right now, my goals seemed so far away that I wouldn’t be able to reach them if I had a rocket. “We’ll see.”

“You have time,” she said, then frowned. “You know, we’ve been living together for over a month and I know nothing about you, really. Where are you from?”

“Here. Well, West Ashley. My family has a house right on the Ashley River. What about you?”

“Georgia.”

“Okay . . . Never been there, but I’m picturing a lot of cotton fields.”

“You’re not far off,” she said with a snort. “My hometown is predominantly farmers, and it’s very conservative. The kind of place where everything is closed on Sunday and if you don’t go to church, your neighbors spend all their free time praying for your soul. It’s not awful, just not me.”

My gaze moved to her tattoo and I shook my head. No, I couldn’t really picture her in a place like that.

“So your parents are conservative, then?”

“If they got any more conservative, they’d have to become puritans.”

I looked at her tattoo again and found myself frowning. Maybe she was exaggerating, but I didn’t think so. If what she said was true, her parents probably weren’t very thrilled about how she’d chosen to live her life. Maybe that was part of her deal with this crazy service she’d started. Nothing screwed with a person’s head faster than having parents who didn’t approve of you.

“They’re coming for a visit next weekend, by the way,” she said, her mouth turning down.

“You don’t sound thrilled.”

“I’m not. I love them, and talking to them on the phone—when I have time—is okay. In person it’s hard. We don’t understand each other and I’ll always be their little girl, which means they think they should still have a say in how I live my life. I’m pretty sure my mom will still be giving me lectures when I’m fifty.”

“That can’t be fun.”

My own parents were cool, but I’d seen the kind of shit parents could do to their kids. Cami’s friend, Julie, for starters. Sure, she’d been too wild and irresponsible, but I could never help thinking things might have turned out differently if they had been a little easier on the kid. Cami had taken a lot of shit for how it all turned out too. Never seemed fair.

“It’s exhausting, to be honest.” Bette yawned and turned her head away, but of course it didn’t help. When a yawn forced its way out of me, I found myself stretching my arms above my head. Bette gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

I shook my head and scooped my clothes up off the floor. It was after one and I was beat. “No big deal. It’s late, anyway.”

“Yeah,” she said, reluctantly climbing to her feet. “I mean, it’s not late for me since I’m usually not even home by this time.”

I let out a little laugh that was so quiet she probably didn’t even hear it. “True. I’m just not used to working.”

Her green eyes narrowed on me behind her frames. “Is this your first job?”

I shook my head as I headed toward the stairs, my scalp prickling under her intense gaze. “No, not really. My dad owns a small construction business—mostly remodeling kitchens and bathrooms and stuff like that. I’ve helped him out with that a lot over the years. I also waited tables over the summer, but I hadn’t planned on working during the school year. Last semester I just kind of hung out.”

“Dated,” she said, following me up the steps to the second floor.

My jaw tightened, but I couldn’t be pissed at her, not really. It was true. “Yeah, something like that. Anyway, the restaurant is busy on weekends and it’s exhausting. Especially since I hate it so much.”

We paused in the hall, staring at each other for a second. For some reason, I was reluctant to go into my room even though I was exhausted. Bette and I had barely spoken, really, but she was easy to talk to and I’d been pretty secluded over the past few weeks. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed having company until now.

“Well,” Bette said, looking at the floor. “It was nice to finally talk to you. I guess we should get to know each other a little since we live in the same house and all.”

“Yeah. No reason we can’t be friends.”

She lifted her head, and her eyes moved up my bare chest, making me shuffle my feet. I fought to keep my eyes on her face, but with the way her gaze raked over me it was an impossible task. Just one last look at her tits before I went to bed wouldn’t be awful, would it?

“Good night,” I said, getting an eyeful of her cleavage as I turned toward my room. Which was dumb as shit. Now I wasn’t going to be able to sleep a wink.

“Night,” she called from behind me.

Chapter Four

Bette

A visit from my parents turned me from a confident woman into a jittery ball of nerves. I couldn’t get my house clean enough and I was sure that no matter what I cooked or where I took them to eat they’d be unhappy. They rarely came to visit, but when they did, it was only for a weekend. We just couldn’t be in the same room together for longer than that without being at each other’s throats. Well, it was mainly my mom, which hurt. Neither one of my parents really understood me, but my dad kept it to himself mostly. My mom, on the other hand, didn’t have a problem pointing out all the mistakes she thought I was making. No matter how hard I tried to explain how I felt, it just seemed to make things worse and I couldn’t stand the look of disappointment on her face. Still, I refused to go back to the way I’d been before.

Chris walked through the front door as I was fluffing the couch cushions for the hundredth time and my stomach twisted into a knot so tight I was shocked it didn’t burst from the pressure. Explaining him to my parents was going to be super-fun.

He stopped in the middle of the living room and stared at me like I’d gone insane. Maybe I had. “Do your parents really care if the cushions are fluffy?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t know what they want from me!” I straightened up and blew a strand of red hair out of my eye. It had been black the last time my parents visited and I was one hundred percent sure my mom was going to hate the red. Not that she’d liked the black that much either. “They’ll be disappointed no matter what I do, anyway.”

Chris’s brows pulled together over his chocolate eyes, and my stomach gave a little flop that was impossible to ignore. There was something adorably sexy about him when he made that face.

“Is it because your parents don’t approve of your job?”

I grabbed my chest when my heart skipped a couple beats. “Holy shit! Don’t mention my job to my parents.”

Even though I’d made my mind up a long time ago that I wasn’t going to live to make them happy anymore, I still hated to disappoint them. I had a suspicion there was always going to be a part of me that felt guilty for not living up to their expectations, and I was sure my job would push my mom over the deep end.

“Um, sorry.” Chris shuffled his feet and glanced toward the stairs. “I’m going up to work on a paper.”

He didn’t look back at me as he headed out, and I felt like a jerk for snapping at him. But I’d smooth it over later. It wasn’t him, it was me. He’d get it once he met my parents, which would happen all too soon.

Please, Lord, just let this weekend go by smoothly . . . and quickly.

I was standing in the dining room setting the table for dinner when the doorbell rang. The sound made me jump and the plate I was holding almost slipped from my grasp. I set it down and gave myself a pep talk that didn’t work at all. There was no time to do anything else, though.

My stomach was a ball of nerves as I headed to the door, taking one last look around. Everything was as perfect as it could be, but I still felt like there was something I could have done differently. Better.

When I stopped in front of the door, I took a second deep breath, mentally biting my tongue in preparation for the weekend. It took a lot of self-control to keep all my comments to myself when my mom was around—even then I wasn’t successful one hundred percent of the time.

The second the door was open, my mom smiled and threw herself into my arms. “Elizabeth! I’m so happy to see you.” She pulled back and her grin melted into a frown as her green eyes narrowed on my head. She made a little tsk-tsk sound and said, “What did you do to your hair this time? Every time I see you it’s a different color. What was wrong with the beautiful brown you were born with?”

Mom shook her head as she walked in, leaving Dad standing in the doorway. He smiled as he wrangled me into a hug. “You look good, sweetheart.”

I could never tell if he really meant it, but I appreciated the effort anyway. “Thanks, Dad.”

I did my best to smile as I pulled away from my dad. Of course, I also couldn’t stop myself from smoothing down my shirt and patting my hair into place, and the whole time my eyes moved over the room in search of something that might need to be fixed. There was nothing, though. Even my mom couldn’t complain about the condition of the house. I mean, she could, but she’d just be nitpicking at that point.

I took a deep breath and focused on my parents. It was time to play the role of hostess. “Come in! Dinner’s almost done. How was your drive?”

“Nice, but I think we’re getting too old to be shoved into the car for five hours like that. Next time, you come see us.” Mom patted my arm as she walked by, her eyes sweeping across the room in the process. My scalp prickled under her scrutiny. “You’ve kept the place nice. Missy would be happy. Although why she left it to you and not me, I still don’t know.” Mom pressed her lips together into a little pout. It was an expression we shared. “You two always did have a connection I didn’t understand.”

I couldn’t tell her that Aunt Missy had understood me more than anyone else, because that would kill my mom. Mom liked to think she and I were best friends. True, we’d been close when I was growing up, but lately we could hardly talk without getting into an argument. I could only keep my mouth shut for so long, and she never could. Plus, if anyone disagreed with her they were automatically wrong.

“You thirsty?” I asked, choosing to ignore her comment.

Dad lumbered toward the stairs, dragging the suitcase behind him. “The air mattress set up in the extra room?”

“The studio!”

My heart jumped to my throat at the thought of my dad walking into Chris’s room. How would he react to finding Chris sprawled out on the bed? I couldn’t even imagine! I knew I was going to have to tell them about Chris eventually and I was already dreading it.

“Mom?” I called, trying to calm my pounding heart. “A drink?”

“Water,” she said, settling into a chair at the small dining room table.

She ran her hand over the surface and her mouth turned down. I knew she was thinking about my aunt, but I just didn’t feel like rehashing the same thing again. Mom was a glass-half-empty kind of person, and the bad things that had happened in her life always overshadowed the good. I didn’t know how she could live that way, and I did my best not to be like her. The similarities I saw in myself sometimes were shocking, though.

Dad’s footsteps pounded above my head, making my hands shake as I poured Mom a glass of water. If Chris came out of his room before I had a chance to explain the situation, it was going to put a damper on the weekend. To say the least.

“So how’s school?” Mom asked when I set the glass down in front of her.

I forced out a smile even though her eyes were glued to my mouth, or more accurately to the piercing above my lip. There was a part of me that wished she’d just get the usual lecture out of the way. We both knew it was coming.

“Good,” I said, picking up the stack of silverware I’d brought out so I could finish setting the table for dinner. “I’m taking a lot of photography classes and I’m really enjoying them. Charleston’s a good place to live because it gives me a lot of different subjects to photograph. The nightlife is what I’m focused on now. I’ve been going to a couple local bars and clubs so I can take pictures of bands as they perform. I’ve gotten to know a couple local performers and have struck a deal with them. I take the pictures for class—to gain experience—and anything they like they can have for free as long as they credit me as the photographer. It’s working out well.”

Mom’s mouth had turned down even more, and I could tell she was only half listening. Or, more accurately, only half hearing. She was only hearing the parts where I said I was hanging out in bars and clubs. She was only focusing on the fact that her baby girl had too many holes in her body and too much ink on her arm. She didn’t see me, which was the worst part of the whole thing. She only saw parts of me.

“I wish you’d find a better use for your time. What’s wrong with taking pictures of families?” She shook her head as she took a sip of water. Based on the expression on her face, you’d think it was the sourest lemonade she’d ever tasted. “You’re such a talented girl, Elizabeth; I don’t know why you feel like you need to do all this to stand out. Your work would speak for itself if you’d just let it. You don’t need the red hair and the piercings and tattoos to make people see you.”

My hand curled into a fist around the fork I was holding, like I was just dying to slam it into her face. We went through this all the time. She still thought I was going through a phase. Just trying to get attention. That one day I’d go back to being the person she’d always wanted me to be. The one I’d forced myself to be all through high school. It had made her happy, but not me. I’d always felt like I was playing a part. Like none of my friends really knew who I was. Back then, I was quiet and hesitated to really put myself out there with other people. Not anymore. Now I was comfortable in my own skin.

Except when my mom was around.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs behind me and I almost let out a sigh of relief. Dad may not approve of everything, but he kept his mouth shut at least. Having him as a buffer was important.

He cleared his throat as he stepped into the room, and Mom looked up. Her eyebrows pulled together and her mouth turned down even more—I didn’t even think it was possible—and my heart dropped so low it was between my knees. Shit.

“I met your friend upstairs,” Dad said as I swiveled to face him.

Chris stood at his side, smiling. Totally oblivious to the judgment swirling around in my mother’s head.

“Who’s this?” Mom’s voice was so high she sounded like she’d sucked in a mouthful of helium.

I took a step forward so fast my hip bumped into a chair. It wobbled and almost fell, but I managed to grab it just in time. When I righted it the legs slammed against the wood floor so hard it made me jump. I was a mess.

“Chris! Shi—crap. Mom, Dad, this is my roommate, Chris. I told you I was going to start looking for someone to help with the bills once Aunt Missy’s money ran out. Well, it almost has, so I put an ad up at the coffee shop. Chris answered it.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Greene, it’s nice to meet you,” Chris said, still smiling.

It was like he couldn’t read the situation at all, which was nuts. Mom’s eyes were so narrow she looked like she was trying to shoot laser beams out of her pupils.

“You have a male roommate?” Mom said, her eyes sweeping over Chris.

“Yes, Mom.” I did my best not to snap at her, but my voice still came out harsher than I meant it to.

Chris looked my way, and his smile finally disappeared. He tilted his head when our eyes met and it reminded me of a confused puppy. Was it strange that I found him adorable even though I was writhing under the intensity of my mom’s judgment? Probably.

“So you have separate rooms?” she said slowly.

“We do.” I nodded as I laid out the last few pieces of silverware. I’d set a place for Chris, but after my mom’s behavior I wasn’t sure if he would want to join us.

The timer started to beep in the kitchen, which was my cue to get the hell out of there. Talk about saved by the bell . . .

“Need to get that!”

I hurried into the kitchen feeling like I was ten years old and I’d been caught watching a movie my parents didn’t approve of. Mom had an incredible knack for making me feel guilty about the way I chose to live my life. I may have been twenty-two, but she still thought she not only could tell me what to do, but that she was entitled to know every detail of my life. Which was bullshit as far as I was concerned.

The voices of my dad and Chris were just audible in the next room as I went about getting dinner finished. I was dying to know what they were talking about, but no matter how hard I tried to strain my ears, I couldn’t catch more than a few words. It sounded like Chris was telling my parents what classes he was taking, though.

The good thing about the situation was that Chris was a clean-cut guy. No tattoos or earrings, and he’d been raised in the south, so he had manners. If anyone could smooth things over with my mom, it would be him. Still, I wasn’t convinced it was going to happen. I knew they’d be devastated to find out their baby girl was living with a guy—even if we weren’t sleeping in the same bed—and it was doubtful even a smooth-talking southern boy would be able to make my mom think the situation was okay.

Footsteps came into the room behind me and my back stiffened. They were too light to be one of the men, so it had to be my mom.

Here we go . . .

“You need any help, honey?” she said when she stopped next to me.

“Nope. I made lasagna.” I didn’t look her way as I slid the knife across the garlic bread.

“Grandma’s recipe, or Aunt Missy’s?”

Oh crap! “Um . . . Missy’s.”

Mom clicked her tongue in disapproval and I had the urge to curl up into a ball. I’d totally forgotten how much my mom had disliked my aunt’s lasagna, although I still wasn’t totally convinced it was because she thought it didn’t taste good. I was more inclined to believe it was because Missy had been the only one who didn’t use the family recipe.

“You didn’t need to go to so much work,” she finally said flatly.

“It was no big deal. I put it in two small casserole dishes and froze half, so it will give me food later on. Plus, you know how much I like to cook. When Missy was alive, I did all the cooking for her.”

“Sometimes I think we were wrong to send you here.”

I froze in the middle of stacking bread onto a plate, and finally turned to look at my mom. “What?”

Mom wasn’t looking at me, she was staring at the lasagna like she suspected it might be poison. “You were so young and susceptible. Maybe it would have been better to do hospice.”

“I’m glad I came,” I said, trying to blink back tears before they spilled over. “My time with Missy was amazing, but more than that, I love Charleston. I know you don’t get all this, but being here with Missy helped me figure out who I am.”

Mom pressed her lips together so hard they looked fused shut, but she still wouldn’t look at me. “You were just too young.”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to finish slicing the bread. There was no point in talking this whole thing over. My mom saw the world through gray-colored glasses, and that was never going to change. She looked at the past and saw only the mistakes she’d made, and she looked at the present and saw only the things she wished had turned out differently.

Like me.

Chapter Five

Chris

Bette had set a place for me at the table, which was nice. Only I wasn’t sure I wanted to get in the middle of this family thing. Whatever it was.

“Being an accountant is a good career,” her dad said, nodding slowly like he was trying to convince me.

His daughter didn’t look much like him. He wasn’t tall, probably only five ten, and he had a round belly and gray hair that was thinning. I guessed he was in his late sixties, which was almost twenty years older than my own parents. But he was nice, and when he turned to watch Bette carry a pan of lasagna out of the kitchen, he didn’t have the same judgment in his eyes that her mom had.

Bette set the pan on the table and looked up, her eyes meeting mine. “Join us, Chris?”

“Sure . . .” I said, swallowing like I thought it might be a trap. Which wasn’t totally inaccurate.

She smiled and gratitude flashed in her eyes, making me feel a little better about the situation. But not much. “Good. Let me get the salad, then we can eat.”

Bette headed back into the kitchen as her mom set a plate of bread down. Her eyes swept over the table and she frowned. I followed her gaze, but everything looked okay from where I was standing, so I couldn’t figure out what her problem was.

“You have the fork on the wrong side,” she said when Bette came out of the kitchen. Her mom shook her head and picked up the fork in front of her, then switched it with the knife and spoon. “Fork goes on the left, the knife and spoon on the right.”

Bette’s mouth turned down as she set the salad on the table, and her cheeks flushed. “I can never remember. Plus, you’re the only one who ever notices that.”

She slid into a chair and I followed her lead, taking the one to her right. Mr. Greene took the chair on my other side, which meant I ended up across from her mom, who frowned when she looked me over. I squirmed, but I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t really care what this lady thought of me. Plus, all parents liked me, so I couldn’t figure out what her deal was. It had something to do with the fact that I was living with her daughter, which just blew my mind. We weren’t living together, we were just roommates. Why would they care about that?

“I’m sure your friends notice when they come over.” Her mom clicked her tongue as she scooped salad onto her plate.

Bette’s mouth scrunched up, but she didn’t say anything, and I had to bite back a laugh. Did this lady seriously think anyone in their twenties would even notice where the fork was? It was ridiculous.

Bette scooped out a helping of lasagna and slapped it onto my plate so hard sauce sprayed across the table. Three little drops landed on my shirt.

“Elizabeth,” her mom said, frowning more than ever.

“Shi—crap, Chris. I’m sorry.” Her cheeks got redder as she reached for a napkin, dabbing at the sauce on my shirt. I wasn’t sure because she kept her gaze down, but I thought I saw tears in her eyes.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing her hand and giving it a little squeeze. “It’s okay. No big deal.”

Bette licked her lips, then nodded once before dropping the napkin on the table. “Sorry. I’ll wash it for you.”

I chuckled and grabbed a piece of bread. “It’s an old shirt anyway,” I lied. “No big deal.”

“Thanks,” Bette said, looking up long enough to give me a little smile.

I watched her as we ate in silence. She was like a totally different person with her mom here, and seeing her so unsure of herself was strange. That was one of the things I’d noticed about her the first day I’d come to the house, the fact that she was confident enough to say whatever was on her mind.

Annie had been sexy and smart, and she’d been trying to figure out who she was, but she had acted uncertain a lot of the time. Then there were girls like Cami who were hot and knew it, which usually meant they thought all they had to do was bat their eyes and guys would fall all over them. But Bette carried herself with an assurance that wasn’t common. She liked herself, and it didn’t matter to her if the guys she passed did or not. She didn’t need it, which was a nice change.

Too bad her mom couldn’t see her that way.

“So, Chris,” Mrs. Greene said after about ten minutes of total silence, “tell us how you met our daughter.” She arched her eyebrows and gave me a challenging look. It reminded me of her daughter, actually.

“Mom, we’re not dating,” Bette said, some of the snark sneaking back into her tone.

“I’m just curious who it is you’re living with, that’s all.” Mrs. Greene didn’t take her eyes off me. “I heard you want to be an accountant. Which is good. What else should we know about you? You look like a nice boy. No tattoos that I can see, so that’s good.”

Bette’s whole body stiffened and irritation pricked through me. I had a hard time remembering the manners I’d been raised with. My mom would be furious if she found out I raised my voice to this woman, but it was hard to stay calm when she’d so blatantly insulted her own daughter.

I forced out a laugh as I swirled my bread around my plate, trying to soak up as much of the sauce as possible. “If I had tattoos I wouldn’t be a nice boy?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m just saying that people see a person covered in tattoos and get a certain impression of them, that’s all.”

She stiffened like she was preparing for an attack, only I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. I’m a Southerner. We know how to sugarcoat and deep-fry everything.

“Not me,” I said, then took a big bite of my bread.

I chewed it slowly, holding Mrs. Greene’s gaze as I figured out exactly how to take her down a peg—in a nice way. There was a good chance this woman wouldn’t like me much after this, but it didn’t really matter to me. It wasn’t like Bette and I were dating. I didn’t need her mom’s approval.

Finally, I swallowed the bread and said, “See, I was raised going to church every Sunday, and even though I’ve forgotten a lot of that stuff over the years, there’s one thing that really stuck with me. I remember the Bible saying that while men look at outward appearances, God looks at the heart. I do my best not to make snap judgments about people based on little things like tattoos and piercings. In my experience, it doesn’t usually change who a person is on the inside.”

Mrs. Greene’s mouth dropped open and I had to work hard to keep the smile off my face, but Bette didn’t even try. She grinned at me so big she looked like she’d just won the grand prize in a raffle.

“Well spoken,” Mr. Greene said, speaking up for the first time. “That’s first Samuel sixteen seven, by the way, and a good verse to keep in mind.” He smiled at his daughter as he lifted his plate. “Delicious lasagna, honey. Give your dad some more, will you?”

After dinner, I hid in my room until I was sure Bette’s mom and dad had gone to bed. While her dad had been nothing but friendly to me the rest of the night, her mom couldn’t look at me without frowning. She acted suspicious, like she thought I had never set foot in church my whole life and had been sent by the devil to embarrass her. She was wrong, though. I had grown up going to church. My parents still went every Sunday.

Once I was sure the Greenes were asleep, I snuck down the stairs. The lights were out except in the kitchen, where I found Bette standing in the middle of the room with her back to me. She had a bottle of wine on the counter in front of her, and was wearing the same black yoga pants and purple tank top she’d had on the weekend before.

“Hey,” I whispered when I got closer.

She jumped about three feet off the ground. “Shit!” Her hand was on her heart when she spun around to face me. “What are you doing sneaking up on me?”

“Sorry,” I said, lifting my hands like I was afraid she would attack me. “Just thought I’d come down and check to make sure you’re okay.”

Bette let out a deep sigh and slumped against the counter. “I’m fine. It’s only for a couple days, right? I can handle it. Tomorrow I’ll take them to the market and we’ll do a carriage tour. Sunday we’ll grab brunch, hit up a few antique stores on King Street, and they’ll be out of here shortly after dinner.”

“Seems like a long drive for such a short trip,” I said.

My eyes scanned the kitchen as I headed to the fridge. As usual, the place was immaculate. I wasn’t sure what issue Bette’s mom had with her, but I couldn’t see anything that should make a parent act like their child was wasting her life. Bette was a neat freak, she was taking classes, and she owned a house that she kept nice. On top of that, she was a financially responsible person who was working hard to start her own business. Even at twenty-two she was already making a name for herself in town. They should be proud, as far as I was concerned.

The jars in the door clinked against each other when I pulled the refrigerator open, but it took a couple seconds for my eyes to register what I was seeing. Even then, I had to blink a few times before I finally looked up at Bette.

“Where’s my beer?”

“Crap. Sorry, I took it out. My parents don’t drink and they think it’s horrible that I do. I usually hide the booze when they show up so I don’t give my mom even more ammunition.”

I would have been annoyed if I hadn’t just sat through a meal with the woman. As it was, I couldn’t really blame Bette for wanting to make the visit easier on herself.

“Okay.” I shut the fridge, but my eyes landed on the wine. “What about that?”

She scooted the bottle my way and her gaze slid over my chest and down my arms, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “I just opened it, but I’ll hide it in the back of the pantry when I’m done. I know it’s weird that I’m an adult and I’m hiding alcohol, but I can only take so much at once.”

“I get it,” I said, pulling out a glass. I didn’t really care for wine, but I figured she’d rather have company than keep standing in the kitchen drinking all by herself like she was doing something wrong.

When I had a full glass, Bette held hers out and smiled. “Thanks for what you said at dinner.”

“No problem,” I said, clinking mine against hers, then taking a little sip while I tried to think of something to say. “So . . . That was intense.”

“My mom is the only person on the planet who can make me feel like shit with just one look. I know she doesn’t do it on purpose, and that she truly believes she’s doing her duty by trying to steer me down the path she thinks is the right one for me, but that doesn’t make it any easier to take. I can brush off everyone’s criticism but hers.”

“What’s her deal?”

Bette threw her head back and laughed. “How long do you have?”

“All night,” I said, tilting my head toward the living room.

Bette shrugged and grabbed the bottle of wine off the counter before following me into the living room. I was glad. She probably could use the chance to vent, but it was more than just that. I’d had a nice time talking to her the other night, and getting to know her better sounded like a good idea. Plus, I was short on friends after the whole Annie mess.

Bette set the bottle and her glass down, then leaned over to grab a book out from under the coffee table. The black fabric of her yoga pants stretched tight over her round ass, but I forced myself to look away as I plopped into the chair.

“So what’s the story?” I asked, taking a sip of wine. It was dry and had a sour taste to it, like grape juice that had gone bad. Why did people like wine so much?

Bette slid across the couch until our knees practically touched, then flipped the book open. It was a yearbook. She held it out and our fingers grazed when I took it from her. Warmth filled my chest, but I shook it off. It was a natural reaction from sitting so close to someone like her. She was confident and loud and sexy as hell, and I was a guy, after all. I couldn’t help it if my body reacted, especially with her cleavage on display like that. Damn if that purple tank top didn’t fit her like a glove.

Bette tapped her index finger against the open page. “Right there. That’s me, junior year of high school.”

I stared at the picture and my mouth dropped open. The girl staring back at me had light brown hair that went down past her shoulders, and little to no makeup. No piercings except small silver hoops in her ears, and the only other jewelry she wore was a tiny cross pendant around her neck. Even her clothes were subdued. A pale pink shirt that wouldn’t stand out in any crowd. She didn’t look anything like the person sitting in front of me right now. Even dressed in yoga pants, Bette stood out. Her red hair demanded you notice her; then there were the piercings and the tattoo that fit her so perfectly you’d almost think she was born with them.

For a second, I couldn’t believe the picture was actually Bette. My eyes moved across the page to the list of names in the margin, but the name confirmed it. Elizabeth Greene, right there in black and white.

“Okay,” I said, looking up. “You have my attention. I mean, this was your junior year, so it was what? Five years ago? What changed?”

“Me.” She shrugged and set her glass down, then took the yearbook from me, studying her picture. “My parents have always been insanely conservative, and that’s how I was raised. I went to church every Sunday morning and Wednesday night. Was really involved in the youth group. I was the good girl who didn’t drink or party or fool around with boys. I did what my parents told me to, and I wasn’t unhappy, but it wasn’t me.”

“So you left for college and decided to be wild?”

“Not really. When I came to Charleston I was determined to figure out who I was. It started with this”—she tapped the little stud in her nose—“and I liked it. It fit me. So I colored my hair and changed my style. Got a few more piercings, and suddenly I felt like me.”

“But your mom hates it.”

“She doesn’t get it. She thinks I’m rebelling or turning my back on my upbringing. She doesn’t get that the two things don’t have anything to do with each other. She doesn’t understand that having a tattoo or a few piercings doesn’t change who I am. I can still be this person and believe in God, can still go to church and have a family and a job.” Bette shrugged and set the book down. “It’s just different.”

She picked her glass back up and took a sip, her eyes moving over my chest for the second time. Every hair on my head stood up under her gaze. When she looked at me like that, it was impossible not to do the same. I found my gaze moving down her long neck to her chest. Her breasts strained against the purple fabric. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

“I got an earful about you,” Bette said, forcing my gaze up. She’d been watching me, so she had to have known where I was looking, but she didn’t say a damn thing about it.

“Why’s that?” I asked, sipping my wine. It wasn’t as disgusting after a few sips, although still not good.

“Living with a boy when I’m not married,” she said in a tone that got lost somewhere between bitterness and sarcasm.

I shook my head and let out a little chuckle. Some people were impossible to understand. “We’re roommates.”

“I know that, and you know that, but my mom says it’s a dangerous situation to be in. Two attractive, single people living under the same roof.” She rolled her eyes. “Apparently she thinks I’ll jump into bed with any guy I find attractive.”

“Or maybe she’s afraid for you because she can tell how irresistible I am,” I said, finding myself grinning.

Bette threw her head back and belted out a laugh. “There’s nothing that turns me on more than polo shirts and khakis.”

“Hey! You make me sound like I’m uptight or something.”

She arched her eyebrows at me. “Aren’t you?”

“No. I—”

I stopped and thought it through for a second. I did like things to be a certain way, had always seen my life going in a specific direction. Meet a girl, fall in love, get married and have kids. I had a plan, and it started with the girl. Of course, every time I thought I’d found the right person it blew up in my face. Like the chick I’d dated freshman year who spent our entire relationship trying to convince me she was someone she wasn’t. Then Annie. I was always trying to force people into the vision I’d created for my future. Maybe that was part of the problem: I couldn’t relax and enjoy the ride. It had to be a little . . . overwhelming. Was that how Annie had felt?

Shit.

“What about you?” I said, pointing my glass at her accusingly. “You almost had a heart attack when I dropped my shirt on the floor the other day.”

“I like things neat,” she said, straightening her shoulders, which reminded me of her mom. I wouldn’t have told her that for a million dollars, though. “I can relax and have a good time. The first time I colored my hair something wild, I was scared shitless. But you know what I realized? It’s just hair. I can change it back.”

She had a point. Trying out new things didn’t necessarily change your entire life. But still, some decisions stayed with you forever.

“The tattoo is permanent,” I pointed out.

Bette shrugged and looked down at her arm. With the way the willow tree’s branches were flying around, it looked like it was in the middle of a hurricane. She traced her finger down the trunk, and her smile grew.

“I know, but I’ll never regret it because it means so much to me. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. I gave it a lot of thought before I did it.”

There was a dreamy tone to her voice that made me curious. “So there’s a story behind it?”

She looked up and her eyes held mine. “There is. I got it as a reminder to never bend to anyone’s will again. Never do something just because it’s expected of me, and to make sure that no matter what I do, it’s going to make me happy. I tried to please my parents for too long.”

Staring at the branches of that tree put Bette in a whole new light. I’d always seen her as a strong and independent person, but for the first time I could understand the struggles she’d gone through. Could almost feel what it had been like for her to break away from her mom’s expectations, especially after meeting the woman. My own parents were laid-back, and I’d never had to worry that the decisions I made would change how they saw me. I could imagine how Bette felt living in the shadow of her parents’ expectations.

“I’m sorry. It must be rough to live with constant disappointment.”

“No matter how strong I am or how sure I am of my decisions, there’s a constant struggle inside me, and even though I’ve decided to just live for me, it’s impossible to shake the guilt of letting my parents down.”

She shrugged and took another drink of her wine, but she didn’t look too upset. Maybe she’d just learned to accept it all. I liked that about her.

I held up my glass. “Well, I hope the weekend goes fast for you. We’ll have to make up for it next weekend. Do something fun.”

She smiled, her lips curling into a pout. There was something about the expression that took her from pretty to mega-hot. “Sounds good. You should join Blake, Sara, and me.”

I nodded as I took a sip. Didn’t sound like a bad idea. I needed to get out there and make new friends. Move on. Start to heal. Who knew what would happen if I let myself relax a little.

The next weekend I literally had to force myself to leave the house, but I did. It had been a long week of trying to catch up on my classes and waiting tables, and I was beat. But I’d promised Bette I’d meet her at some bar and I wasn’t going to back out now. Didn’t mean I was looking forward to it, though.

The bar was so crowded when I arrived I could hardly get through the room. There had been a time when I’d loved the feeling of being smashed into a place like this. The dark, alcohol-soaked atmosphere had seemed relaxing. Not anymore. Now it made me jumpy, and I couldn’t stop scanning the place as I pushed my way through the crowd. I was terrified I’d run into Annie and Ryan.

“Chris!”

The sound of my name over the pulse of the music made me almost turn and run the other way, but I forced myself to look around instead. That’s when I spotted Blake near the bar, waving me over.

I shoved my way through the sweaty bodies until I was able to push up against the bar at Blake’s side. “Hey, man.”

“’Bout time I got you here, man.” He slapped me on the back then waved the bartender down. “You look like you’re about to piss your pants. Let’s get you something to drink. You need to loosen up. Forget that chick. Get laid a time or two.”

I grunted, but I didn’t totally disagree. Annie had me in knots and if I didn’t do something soon, I was going to end up drowning. Maybe a few beers would do the trick. Although as far as getting laid went, I wasn’t really interested in bringing some stranger home for the night. Wasn’t really my thing.

After we had our beers, Blake motioned for me to follow him and pushed his way through the crowd. On the other side of the bar, a small stage was set up where a guy played his guitar while he sang into the microphone. He wasn’t half bad, even if the bar was loud and I was too jumpy to really enjoy the music.

Blake led me to a table where a few other people were already waiting. He introduced me, but I didn’t catch the names of the two guys who apparently shared a house with him. They barely glanced my way anyway. Too busy checking out a couple girls at the next table.

A blond girl named Sara patted the chair next to her as she smiled up at me. She had big blue eyes that seemed to take up most of her round face, and a dress that was so short it showed off almost every inch of her tan legs.

“So you’re Bette’s roommate,” she called over the music.

I nodded and took the free seat at her side, causing Blake to shoot me a grin.

“Yeah,” I said, looking around. “I thought she was going to be here.”

“Bette is over there.” Blake tilted his beer toward the stage.

I turned to find her standing to the right of it, taking pictures. That’s when I recognized the guy. It had taken me a second since it was so dark in the bar, but I should have realized who it was right away.

“She has a couple pictures of him on the wall at our place,” I said, raising my voice over the swell of the music.

“Reed Hopewell.” Sara grinned up at me and scooted her chair closer.

“Some local guy she met a while back,” Blake said, frowning toward the stage. “I guess he’s got a recording contract now, though. Moving on to bigger and better things.”

I nodded and sipped my beer as I watched Bette take pictures, not really paying a lot of attention to Sara, even though she was obviously trying to get me to notice her. The guy had a nice voice; no wonder he got a recording contract.

After a few minutes I found my gaze wandering around the club. When I spotted Cami and Liam sitting across the room, I almost choked on a mouthful of beer. I’d just started to relax, but one look at them and my heart was pounding all over again. Dammit. I knew I shouldn’t have left the house today.

“Shit,” I muttered, scooting my chair back a little so Blake—who was on the other side of the table—was, hopefully, blocking me from view.

I scanned the rest of the crowd, praying I didn’t see a tall girl with pale blond hair anywhere. As far as I could tell, though, Annie and Ryan weren’t around. Still, I couldn’t relax.

“What’s your problem?” Blake asked, looking at me like I was losing my mind.

“Nothing. Just some people I don’t feel like dealing with right now.”

Sara twisted her body so she could see around Blake, and I tried to duck lower, causing Blake to snort. Luckily, he didn’t call me out for being a big fucking baby. Which I was grateful for.

“Who are you hiding from?” Sara asked, turning back to face me. She was cute, but with the sudden reminder of Annie and how sexy she was, I was even less interested than I had been before.

The song ended and a group of people gathered around the table next to us burst into rowdy applause. Which of course drew Cami’s gaze our way. Once again I tried to hide, but when her eyes got about three times bigger than their original size, I knew I was caught. She grabbed Liam’s arm and stood on her tiptoes, saying something into his ear. He looked my way and smiled. Then they were headed over and that urge to run came screaming back.

“Shit,” I muttered.

Sara frowned and Blake chuckled. I glanced around, trying to find a way to escape, but the place was just too damn crowded. Why the hell hadn’t I just stayed in my room tonight?

Blake stood, slapping me on the back on his way by. “I think you’re going to need another round in a few minutes. I’ll hit up the bar.”

He headed through the crowd, leaving me with the three strangers who were now all staring at me. Eagerly waiting to witness the humiliation that was sure to come in Cami’s presence.

When my former friends stopped in front of me, Liam slapped me on the arm and gave me a smile that was way too friendly considering how things had gone the last time we’d seen each other. “Hey, mate, where the bloody hell have you been?”

“Working,” I muttered, rubbing my arm even though it hadn’t hurt.

His eyes went to Sara, who was already being scrutinized by Cami. The girl’s blue eyes were even bigger than before, and while they had made her look cute a few minutes ago, they now looked freakishly cartoonish to me.

“You got a job?” Liam asked, looking back at me.

His smile didn’t fade for even a second, like he was oblivious to the fact that I was uncomfortable. It figured. Liam was way too easygoing. Cami had treated him like shit, but here he was back with her anyway. But not me. No way was I going to let the people who had pissed all over me back into my life.

“Had to find a way to pay for rent.” The words were dry and left such a bitter taste in my mouth I was forced to take a sip of my beer. It didn’t help.

Liam’s eyebrows shot up, getting lost under his blond hair, but he didn’t say anything else. Of course he wouldn’t. He was Ryan’s roommate. Had probably known about Ryan and Annie all along. Traitor.

“You still pouting, then?” Cami asked, putting her hand on her hip as she threw her dark hair over her shoulder.

“Fuck off, Cami,” I muttered, not even looking her way.

“Watch it, mate,” Liam said, finally losing the smile he’d had plastered on his face.

I snorted and looked away, right over his shoulder to where Bette stood. My gaze met hers and she tilted her head to the side, then looked at Cami. I could see the question in her eyes, and I knew what she was thinking. She’d seen Cami the day I moved out of the dorms, and she probably still thought this was the girl who had screwed me over.

Just like that, Bette was heading our way, her hips swaying so seductively it made every guy she passed look her up and down. The black skirt she had on was tight, showing off every one of her curves, and her shirt was red with white polka dots and thin straps that accentuated the tattoo on her arm. The neckline dipped between her breasts in a way that made them look like they were just begging to be squeezed. She looked as hot as sin.

She slinked up beside me and slipped her arm around my waist, pressing her breasts against my arm. Making it impossible to think when every bit of blood in my body was redirected to one area.

“You came,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes so she could press her red lips against my cheek. Then she turned her emerald eyes on Cami and Liam. “Who are your friends?”

Cami’s eyes were huge, and the grin was back on Liam’s face. I knew exactly what that perverted bastard was thinking. What I didn’t know was why the hell I had the urge to punch him for it.

“Cami and Liam, this is Bette.” I didn’t bother elaborating on who she was. Mostly because I wanted them to get the wrong idea.

“Nice to meet you,” Bette said, pressing her breasts more firmly against my arm, making my dick strain against my jeans. It hurt like hell and I had a hard time not adjusting myself.

“New friend?” Liam asked with a chuckle, his eyes glued to Bette’s cleavage.

“Yeah,” I snapped.

She wasn’t mine, but I still didn’t want him looking at her like she was on the menu. I stepped closer to Bette so he couldn’t see her tits anymore. Of course, that just meant they were pressed so firmly against my arm that I could actually feel the hard points of her nipples. It didn’t help my pants fit any better, that’s for damn sure.

Liam chuckled and Cami glared up at him. He just shrugged like he couldn’t be held responsible for staring. Not that I disagreed, though. Bette had a pair of tits most girls would kill for—or pay for.

The guy on the stage tapped the microphone and gave some introduction I couldn’t focus on with no blood pumping to my brain, and Bette finally pulled away from me.

“Gotta get back to work. See you at home later.” She smiled at Liam and Cami. “Nice to meet you.”

Then she walked off like she owned the damn place with Liam’s eyes glued to her ass, earning an elbow in the arm from Cami.

“Just looking,” he said, with a chuckle as he rubbed his arm. He kissed Cami on the side of the head and she rolled her eyes, but she didn’t seem all that pissed off. He turned to me, and his grin got wider. “You live with her? Nice work, mate.”

Cami turned her sharp brown eyes on me. “Seriously, Chris?”

“What’s your problem? You act like I’m the one who screwed my best friend over. If I want to move in with Miley Cyrus and swing around on a fucking wrecking ball every night, I can. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s not the point! You’re still pissed at Ryan and Annie, but you’re living with her?” She shook her head, and even though my face got hot I couldn’t deny that she had a point. If things were the way she thought they were, which they weren’t.

“We’re roommates,” I said dryly. “It’s not like that.” Cami looked like she thought I was full of shit. “Seriously. That whole show was only because she probably thought you were the bitch who slept with my best friend.”

Cami’s face scrunched up and got redder than the beer sign hanging behind her on the wall. “Bitch? Don’t you dare—”

Liam grabbed her arm before she could claw my eyes out. “Okay, let’s get you home.”

Cami didn’t take her fiery eyes off me, but I wasn’t about to apologize. I was right, and she could just get over it.

Liam started to pull her away, but paused just long enough to say, “Seriously miss you, mate. Ryan does too. Just think about it.”

Before I could respond, Liam pulled Cami away and they disappeared through the mass of sweaty bodies clogging the bar. I wasn’t even sure what I would have said to that, anyway. When hell freezes over? Yeah, probably something like that.

“What was that all about?” Sara asked, drawing my attention back to her.

All I could picture when I looked at her was a character from a Japanimation comic book. Of course, that didn’t mean she wasn’t cute or that she couldn’t distract me from the agony in my chest for just a little bit.

“Nothing,” I muttered, finishing off my beer.

Blake’s roommates had disappeared during the confrontation, leaving the two of us alone, but it didn’t last long. A few minutes later Blake was back with beers, which I quickly put to good use. I spent the next two hours drinking with him and Sara while I did my best to drown out Liam’s words. At some point during that time, Bette joined us, and I may have even spent a little bit of time on the dance floor with Sara. By the time last call came around, I could barely walk a straight line.

“Okay, slugger,” Bette huffed, “why don’t you lie on the couch.”

I slid off Bette and flopped onto the couch, hating myself for how shitty I felt when the room spun like a ride at the county fair. Still, I was slightly grateful that for the first time in weeks I couldn’t picture Annie’s face or remember how her body had felt under mine. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath, hoping to ease the nausea. It was probably a lost cause.

“You want me to stick around in case you need help with him?” Blake asked.

I cracked one eye, but could only see Bette from my face-down position on the couch.

She shook her head as she slid her jacket off. “No, he’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Blake’s hand ran down Bette’s arm, but she stepped back. He sighed. “Come on. We’ve been going back and forth about this for how long now?”

“Too long,” Bette said, “and the answer is still no.”

“I know you want me. I can see it in your eyes every time we’re together. Why do you keep playing games?”

He came into my line of sight as he grabbed her around the waist. Bette tried to push him back, but before she could do much his mouth slammed against hers. She resisted just a tiny bit, then melted into the kiss. My head spun with how fast Blake’s arms wrapped around her.

Then all at once she tried to pull back, but he wasn’t having it. He seemed to hold her tighter, pull her closer. I blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. The alcohol had pickled my brain so much that it was difficult for me to really focus. Blake didn’t seem like the asshole type, but watching as Bette struggled against his grasp said different.

“Hey!” I grunted, trying to get to my feet.

The whole room tilted and my hand slipped off the cushion when I tried to push myself up. My face slammed into the couch right before my body rolled to the floor. I landed in a heap of throbbing limbs. A groan broke out of me and I rubbed my face, which felt like it had been smashed by a freight train.

Suddenly, Bette was kneeling next to me. Her red lipstick smeared down her chin. “Shit, Chris. You okay?”

Blake stood behind her with lipstick all over his mouth, and my head swam so much that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but even in my drunken state I knew he’d been a dick.

Somehow I made it to my feet and stumbled toward Blake. “You. Get the fuck out!”

The words were slurred and a hell of a lot louder than I’d intended them to be. I shook my head, which only made me sway so much I had to sit on the arm of the couch so I didn’t fall.

“It’s okay, just calm down.” Bette put her hand on my shoulder like she was trying to comfort me. “Blake, why don’t you leave? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Blake snorted and headed to the door.

“You better walk away.” I slid down the arm of the couch until I had collapsed onto the cushions once again. “Jackass,” I muttered against the fabric.

Blake and Bette muttered a few words—maybe goodbyes, I wasn’t sure—then the door shut.

Bette sighed. “You’re a mess.”

Her voice was muffled, and footsteps creaked against the old floor, heading away from me. I tried to lift my head so I could see where she was going, but I could barely open my eyes, let alone sit up. I gave up the fight, and allowed them to drift shut.

“Here,” Bette said right in front of me. “Open your eyes, Chris.”

I cracked one eye.

“A bowl.” She waved it in front of my face, then dramatically set it on the floor. “Don’t puke on my couch. Got it?”

“Never,” I mumbled, closing my eyes again.

“Good. Now get some sleep.”

Chapter Six

Bette

The next morning when I went downstairs, I was more than a little relieved not to find puke all over my couch. Chris was still passed out, snoring softly like his sinuses were full of cotton. It was a quiet rumble that came from the back of his throat and made me giggle to myself as I made coffee. Did he snore every night, or just after a night of drinking? I didn’t know for sure since it was the first time I’d seen him asleep, but for some reason he didn’t strike me as the snoring type.

I’d dated a guy a few years back who’d been a boxer, and he had snored like a chainsaw. Of course, it’d had more to do with the punches he’d taken to the nose over the years than his personality, but for some reason when I’d first heard him snore I hadn’t been surprised. As if the fact that he was big, loud, and overpowering during the day would somehow transfer to his sleep.

Which was exactly why Chris didn’t strike me as a snorer. Too uptight. He was the kind of guy who wore khaki pants and polo shirts to frat parties where he quietly sipped beer from a red Solo cup. I had a suspicion that getting drunk the way he had the night before wasn’t a normal thing for him. He just wasn’t the type of person who knew how to really let loose.

He groaned in the other room and I laughed once again. I set my cup on the counter and grabbed the biggest mug I had, filling it with coffee before heading out to the living room, a mug in each hand.

Chris sat on the couch with his elbows on his knees, holding his head between his hands. His fingers massaged his temples and every few seconds he groaned again. By the time I got to the couch, I was laughing so hard the coffee in both mugs was dangerously close to jumping over the rims.

“How much are you hating yourself right now?” I asked, sitting in the overstuffed chair next to him.

“If I could, I would go back in time and punch myself in the face. Why did you let me drink so much?”

I snorted and set his mug on the table. “I’m not your mom. If you want to make an ass of yourself just because you ran into your ex, that’s your problem.”

He finally lifted his head from between his hands and met my gaze. His eyes were so bloodshot he looked like he’d contracted some kind of virus. Probably a zombie virus, based on current trends.

“That wasn’t my ex.”

I paused with my mug halfway to my mouth. “Then I’m really interested as to why you decided to make such a giant ass of yourself.”

If that wasn’t his ex, he had some explaining to do. When I saw him across the bar talking to the dark-haired girl, he’d looked like he was fighting the urge to punch her. In my experience, a guy like Chris didn’t get an urge like that unless he was standing in front of someone who had royally screwed him over.

Chris inhaled slowly, eyeing the coffee I’d set in front of him like he was afraid it was going to jump up and bite him. “She’s the roommate of my ex, and the cousin of my former best friend.”

Wow. It sounded like something off one of those angsty teen shows on the CW. “Okay. Starting to get a little clearer, I guess. Why don’t you tell me the whole story so I can decide if you did in fact make an ass of yourself?”

Chris threw himself against the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. I wasn’t sure at first if he was going to tell me anything, but after almost a minute of silence he said, “I met Annie at the beginning of the year and right away I could tell she was something special. Then I got lucky and found out she was rooming with Cami, my oldest friend’s cousin. His name is Ryan. Anyway, we started doing stuff as a group, and Annie and I really hit it off. But there was a lot going on with her. I never really got the whole story, but she’d been sheltered growing up and she’d never really experienced anything, which made her hesitant to get serious with me. She had never even kissed a guy when we started going out.”

My mouth was full of coffee when he told me that, and when I gasped, it went up into my sinuses and a little even came out my nose. I coughed, nearly spraying the brown liquid all over the living room, and had to cover my mouth. Chris glanced my way, and I shook my head. Coughing. Holding one finger up so he knew I’d be okay in a second. I was choking on disbelief as much as I was on coffee. It didn’t seem real that an attractive girl in this day and age would make it out of high school without kissing a guy. Even after my ultraconservative upbringing, it was a hard thing to wrap my brain around.

“She’d never kissed anyone?” I asked when I was finally able to talk, my voice sounding oddly similar to a heavy smoker’s. I was really asking about sex, and I’m sure Chris knew it.

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the ceiling like it held the answers to the universe. “You heard me right.”

“Geez. So how long did you two date?”

“On and off for a couple months.”

I tried to figure out if the average nineteen-year-old virgin would sleep with a guy so soon after meeting him. It was impossible for me to know because I wasn’t the average girl when it came to sex, and it sounded like she wasn’t either. How long did most people wait to have sex these days? A month, maybe?

“So you two . . .” I didn’t want to get into his business too much, but I was curious to find out just how much his best friend had screwed him over.

Chris tore his eyes away from the ceiling and finally looked at me. “We didn’t have sex.”

So he hadn’t gotten nearly as screwed over as he was making it out to seem “Okay, so exactly what happened?”

“We went out, but she was trying to find herself or something. She eventually broke up with me because she was interested in someone else, then a few weeks later I walked into my best friend’s bedroom and found them in bed together.”

I took a long drink from my mug while I tried to figure out a delicate way to tell Chris I thought he was overreacting a little. He had a reason to be hurt, that was for sure. His best friend could have let him in on the fact that something was going on, but it’s not like this chick cheated on Chris or anything.

“So,” I said slowly, “you only went out for two months, then weeks after you broke up, she slept with your best friend.”

“You make it sound like I’m overreacting.” He narrowed his eyes and I shrugged.

“I hate to say it, but I think you might be just a little. Maybe you should just talk to Ryan so you can hear his side of the story? You might be surprised what you find out.”

Chris huffed and shook his head. “No way. Don’t take their side when you don’t know anything about it. I was in love with her, and Ryan knew it. And he just slept with her! Now they’re all happy while I have to walk around with my heart in a million pieces.”

He got to his feet and clenched his fists at his sides like he was ready to punch a wall. Or me.

“Calm down,” I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Look, I’m not saying you don’t have a reason to be a little pissed, but you weren’t dating her anymore. They have a right to be happy too. Right?”

“You sound like Cami,” he snapped.

“Then she must be a very smart girl.”

I sat back and crossed my legs, watching him mutter under his breath while I sipped my coffee. He was probably calling me a bitch or coldhearted, but that was fine with me if it made him feel better. I was right, and the fact that he got so defensive told me he knew it.

After a few minutes, Chris threw himself back onto the couch and picked up the mug I’d brought him. “Still sucks.”

“I’m sure it does.”

We drank our coffee in silence while Chris cooled off. After a few minutes he turned toward me. He still looked pissed, but not nearly as much as he had before.

“So what was going on with you and Blake last night?” he asked, his eyes narrowing on my face. “You always let guys treat you like shit?”

I laughed and shook my head, remembering the way Chris had face-planted on the floor.

“I think your alcohol-soaked brain may have misunderstood the situation a little. Things with Blake and me have always been hot, but just under the surface. He wants to go out with me, but I don’t date.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes like he thought I was full of shit. “I saw what happened. You tried to pull away but he wouldn’t stop kissing you.”

“Like I said, your judgment was a little off last night. He had just stopped kissing me and was in the middle of apologizing when you did a nosedive off the couch. You were just too out of it to notice. You’re not the most graceful drunk I’ve ever seen.”

His face scrunched up and he shook his head. “Really? Damn. Guess I should apologize. I thought he was being a dick and I was coming to your rescue. Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m not one of those women who doesn’t want a man to swoop in and save her. Anyone who cares enough to defend my honor is more than welcome to, male or female. It just so happens you were defending me when I didn’t need it. Blake is a nice guy.”

I smiled, then took another sip of my coffee. If I was being honest, I would have told Chris it was kind of adorable the way he had stepped up to defend me. The guy could hardly stand, but he was ready to pick a fight with Blake who, let’s face it, isn’t exactly scrawny. Chris would have gotten his ass kicked, but I had a good feeling he would have been okay with it simply because standing up for me had been the right thing to do. Which was sweet.

“So Blake is nice, but you won’t date him?” Chris asked, looking at me like he was trying to figure out what my major malfunction was.

“Not just him. Anyone.”

“Why is that exactly?”

I paused for a second, trying to figure out what to say. My reasons for not dating were jumbled in my own head, so verbalizing them wasn’t easy. I’d never really spoken to anyone about it before; I just knew that I wasn’t in the right place to have a relationship, and I didn’t believe in dating casually. It wasn’t for me.

“I have a hard time believing a person can ever really be accepted for who they are,” I said slowly, holding Chris’s gaze while I tried to figure out how to explain myself without sounding insecure. I wasn’t, not really. Just skeptical. “I think people try, but deep down they’re always looking for a way to change the other person to fit their idea of who they should be.”

“That’s bullshit,” Chris said, shaking his head like I was the biggest idiot in the world. “If you really love someone, you love all of them. Even the stuff that most people find annoying or weird or unattractive.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. He was clearly not from my family. “Tell that to my parents.”

“So that’s what this is about? Your parents?”

I shrugged as I took another sip of my coffee. “Maybe, maybe not. I just know I’ve never really had another person embrace who I am. My parents want me to be the perfect daughter they envisioned, but I can’t fit the mold they made for me. Believe me, I’ve tried. All it ended up doing was making me unhappy. Maybe they don’t love who I am now, but I at least I’m happy, and I’m the one who has to live with myself.”

“That’s good, and that should make your parents happy too.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? My parents believe there are no gray areas in life, that everything is either black or white. I’m not saying I don’t believe in black and white to some extent, but I think it varies from person to person. I don’t think we can put everyone in the same box, which is why my parents and I butt heads so much.”

Chris nodded like he was thinking it through, and I gave him a few seconds to let my words sink in before I dropped a bomb on him. He wasn’t going to like hearing it, but I felt like tough love was usually the best approach in situations like this.

“Which is why,” I said slowly, “I think you’re angry at Ryan for the wrong reason.”

His shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t argue and he didn’t get up and storm out.

“You’re mad because he’s with Annie, which is dumb. You shouldn’t want her love because she isn’t worthy of you. Not to say there’s anything wrong with Annie, it’s just that she would never be able to love you the way you want her to. You should be mad at Ryan because he wasn’t honest with you, not because he fell in love with a girl you wanted.”

Chris stared at the wall and didn’t say anything. Maybe he was pissed off, maybe not. It was hard to tell from the expression on his face. I just hoped my words had gotten through to him, because it seemed a shame to throw away a friendship that had obviously meant so much to him. Did Ryan owe him an apology? Hell yes. Did what happened between them mean they could never be friends? It shouldn’t, not if they were really that close to begin with.

“Just think about it,” I said, sipping my coffee again.

He nodded, but still didn’t look at me when he said, “As long as you promise to consider the fact that someone might actually be able to love you for all the things your parents see as flaws, I’ll promise to think about it.”

“Deal,” I said, shrugging. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t the only reason I don’t date, anyway.

My most recent client, Jake, was a douchebag of the highest degree. The guys I usually went out with just didn’t have enough balls to stand up to their mom and dad, but Jake was a manwhore who loved to rub it in his mom and dad’s faces as much as he could. Which was probably why they were on him to settle down and find a nice girl. Exactly what Jake thought he was going to accomplish by taking me out wasn’t really clear, but he’d been willing to pay me up front, so I went along with his plan.

Most of the parents I had dinner with treated me with polite disdain, saving any personal comments for later when they had a private talk with their son. Jake’s parents, unfortunately, saw me as nothing more than one of his skanks and had no problem treating me that way. I had quietly endured snide comments from his father the whole meal, and his mother had refused to say even one word to me. But as the night wore on, my cool exterior slowly started to melt away. By the time I finished my steak I was afraid I was going to explode and tell these assholes exactly what I thought of them. And their son.

Chris passed our table a few times, managing to catch bits and pieces of the conversation. Every time our eyes met he frowned and shook his head, and when he didn’t know I was watching, I caught him glaring at my dinner guests. I got why he was so pissed—I was too—but for five hundred dollars I could eat an expensive steak and listen to two people talk about me like I wasn’t even sitting there.

By the time the meal was over, though, I was more than ready for a drink. Thankfully, Blake had one waiting for me.

“Rough night?” he asked, giving me a sympathetic smile that made my insides twist.

“The worst.” I slid into a chair and practically inhaled the cosmo he’d set out for me. “What happens to people to make them turn into total assholes?”

Blake grinned as he wiped the counter and his sandy hair fell across his forehead. “Dropped on the head as an infant.”

As usual, I found it impossible not to stare at his biceps as they flexed with every move he made. Why did he have to be so pretty?

“Nice theory,” I said, sipping my drink and easing my troubled mind with thoughts of Blake’s muscles.

He leaned against the counter and flashed me that panty-dropping smile of his. “Not a theory. Science.”

“Probably.”

Someone called to him from the other side of the bar, and he threw me a wink before heading their way. I sipped my cosmo and watched as Blake mixed a couple drinks. The girls who ordered them were practically drooling, and even though he smiled in return, I could tell he wasn’t interested. Blake was pretty transparent to me by this point, plus I’d never really seen him flirt with any of the customers. Except me, that is.

I loved that he flirted with me, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, and it got me thinking about what Chris had said. Maybe someone could like me for all the things that drove my parents nuts. Maybe Blake was that person. He sure had been hanging around long enough in the hopes that I would change my mind. Sure, I’d put dating aside after the last asshole, swearing I’d never jump into anything like that again, but going out with Blake wouldn’t exactly be a spur-of-the-moment decision.

I was on my second drink when Chris got off work. He lowered himself into the chair at my side, his tie already gone and his shirt unbuttoned. Underneath, he wore a white t-shirt, but I could picture his muscled chest and biceps perfectly. We’d been living together for two months now, and I’d seen him without his shirt on enough to have the image burned into my brain. Chris was good-looking in an adorable kind of way, but he was also one of those people whose looks grew on you. The longer I knew him, the better looking he got.

“Seems like you had an interesting dinner,” he said, a frown turning his adorable mouth down at the corners.

“Yeah, interesting.” I rolled my eyes and swallowed the last bit of alcohol in my glass. “Nothing like people treating you as if you’re lower than the dirt on the sole of their shoes to make you feel special.”

Chris’s mouth bunched up and he shook his head. “That’s bullshit, Bette. You shouldn’t let people treat you that way. I don’t care what you say or think, or how your mom has made you feel, there is nothing wrong with you. I thought you knew that. Thought you were stronger than this. After seeing you with those assholes tonight, I’m beginning to wonder.”

My spine stiffened and heat crept up my neck to my cheeks. Chris had never criticized me before, and for some reason I wasn’t taking it well. Which was nuts. I was used to being picked apart by other people. Just not Chris.

“I’m just making some extra money,” I said defensively. “I won’t do this forever.”

“You shouldn’t do it at all,” Chris snapped.

Blake came over to join us, nodding at Chris. “Drink?”

Chris was still shaking his head when he turned to Blake. “Get me a Guinness.”

Blake’s gaze moved to my drink, then up to my eyes. “What about you, gorgeous? Can I get you anything? Another drink? A date?”

I rolled my eyes, but there was more hesitation inside me than usual. “A drink, please.”

“One day, I’ll wear her down.” The words sounded halfhearted, though, and it made my gut clench. Maybe Blake was getting tired of hearing no. Would I care if he stopped asking?

I watched him walk away, frowning. I was trying to decide what I wanted and if Blake had a part in any of it. I wasn’t sure, which was the real problem.

“You should say yes,” Chris said, startling me out of my thoughts.

I turned to find his brown eyes on me, studying me intently, and it made me squirm. But I drummed my nails on the counter and did my best to act unaffected. “You going to play matchmaker now?”

“No,” Chris said with a snort. “But I am going to point out the stupidity of you saying no when you obviously like each other. Not to mention the fact that you’re hiding behind your tattoos and piercings, even though he clearly doesn’t care.”

“Glad you’re not going to mention that,” I muttered.

Chris exhaled and twisted in his chair so his whole body was turned toward me. “Quit this ridiculous job of yours. It belittles you. You’re worth so much more than that.”

My heart constricted so hard it physically hurt. No one had ever said something like that to me before, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. From the moment Chris and I had met he’d never treated me like anything but a friend. He’d never done anything to make me feel like I wasn’t just as good as him.

Chris’s brown eyes were full of intensity as they held mine. It was so strong it took my breath away. My pulse pounded in my ears, sounding louder than a bass drum, and I found myself wondering what the hell was wrong with that Annie chick. Seriously, this guy was practically perfect.

“Here you go,” Blake called, tearing my attention away from my roommate.

He set the drink in front of me and I looked up into his smiling face, and suddenly I found myself wondering if I was the one who was nuts. Maybe Chris was right.

“Thanks, man,” Chris said, shooting me a wink as he took his beer.

Chris and I drank and chatted, and the whole time I watched Blake move about the bar. The smile he threw my way whenever our eyes met was different than the one he gave the other customers. It lit up his whole face. Made his shoulders relax. Made my insides turn to Jell-O.

Around eleven Chris and I finally decided we’d had enough. My head was light when I stood, but not dangerously so. I could still look at Blake with objectivity, only this time something had changed inside me. Something about Chris’s words had broken down my walls, making it possible for me to believe in other people. Or at least believe in Chris.

My roommate took a couple steps toward the door, but I hadn’t moved.

He shot me a questioning look and I shrugged. “I’ll meet you outside in a second, okay?”

Chris’s eyebrows popped up, and he glanced toward the bar, where Blake was busy mixing drinks. I shrugged shyly, and he laughed. “You’re going to make his night.”

“We’ll see,” I said, heading back to the bar.

I walked up just as Blake set a couple fruity looking drinks on the counter, but before he could move on to the next customer I leaned over the bar and grabbed his hand. His skin was warm and soft against my palm. And nice.

He looked at my hand on his arm, then his gaze moved up to my face. He grinned like he knew what I was going to say. Maybe he did.

“Yes, Blake.”

He threw his head back and laughed, causing a huge smile to break out across my face.

“It’s about damn time,” he said.

I was half asleep when my phone went off, waking me from a dream that had been too nice to be real. It took me a couple seconds to figure out what was going on, but when I did, I rolled over and swiped it off the nightstand. I slid my finger across the screen, not even opening my eyes to see who was calling.

“Hello?” My voice sounded like I’d swallowed a mouthful of razor blades and they’d scratched my esophagus to shreds.

“Is this Bette Greene?” a male voice I didn’t recognize asked.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound a little more with it, but my eyes were still shut. “Yup.”

“Um . . . I got your number from my buddy Mark. He said you could help me out.”

I couldn’t place the name, but I figured it had to do with my business. After my date the night before I wasn’t thrilled to be awakened by some needy prick.

“What exactly do you need?” I asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

“Well, I have this ex. She dumped me a couple weeks ago for this total asshole and I need someone to go out with me. Someone who is going to make her regret the day she ever dumped me.” The arrogance in his tone was so thick it felt like a cheese grater to my brain.

Great, a cat fight was exactly what I was missing from my life.

I bit back a groan and finally opened my eyes, immediately regretting it when the early morning light burned my corneas. It had been a while since I’d done this kind of job, and the last time it had ended with some girl dumping a glass of beer on my head, so I wasn’t really thrilled about the idea. I wasn’t sure which one was worse, parents who thought I was a slut or ex-girlfriends, but either way it was starting to get old. Tiring, even.

Suddenly, lying there in bed, Chris’s words came screaming back to me and I realized one important truth: this job was demeaning, and the only reason I’d done it was to prove something to myself. Maybe it had been a little bit of rebellion on my part—although I’d never admit that to my mom—but I felt like I’d gotten over whatever it was that had made me feel like I needed to do this. And all it had taken was one person—namely Chris—telling me that I was worth so much more.

“Umm . . . Are you still there?” the guy on the other end of the phone said.

“Oh, yeah.” I sat up even though I wasn’t really ready to get out of bed yet. “I’m here, but I’m going to have to tell you no this time. In fact, I’m thinking I’m going to have to say no from here on out. I’m done with this. It’s irritating and stupid and not worth my time.” I pulled the phone away from my ear, all ready to hit END, but as an afterthought I put it back and said, “Tell your friends.”

Chapter Seven

Chris

It was Wednesday in mid-April and I’d been living with Bette for about two months. Things were going well, or at least as well as could be expected. I was working my ass off at the restaurant and in my classes—trying to catch up—and I hadn’t seen Annie or Ryan in months. I’d stopped breaking out into a sweat every time I left the house, worrying that I’d bump into them somewhere. Didn’t mean I hurt any less when I thought about the whole thing, or that when I closed my eyes I couldn’t still picture them in bed together. Thinking about it still felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart, but I was doing my best to move on. Part of that was keeping myself busy, but everyone needed a night off now and then.

Which was why I was sprawled out on the couch with my fourth beer in my hand and a baseball game on when Bette walked through the front door. She had her camera bag slung over her shoulder—as usual—and her dark eyebrows shot up when she saw the empty bottles lined up on the table. I braced myself for a lecture about making a mess, but she didn’t say a word. She just set her keys and camera down and headed into the kitchen, coming back with a beer of her own and dropping into the chair with a sigh.

“You okay?” I asked, just as she said, “Something wrong?”

We both smiled and shrugged at the same time.

“Just relaxing,” I said, taking a drink of my beer while the crowd went crazy on the TV.

I didn’t look away from Bette, though, so I didn’t have a clue what was going on with the game. She had a little smile on her face as her eyes moved across the room, acting like she was lost in her own little world. It was cute.

“I love this house,” she finally said, turning back to me. Still smiling.

Of course, the responsible part of me felt guilty for leaving my trash lying around, and my eyes automatically moved to the empty beer bottles. “I’m going to clean up.”

Bette laughed and ran her hand through her red hair, pushing it back out of her eyes. “Don’t worry. By this point I know you’re almost as much of a neat freak as I am. I wasn’t talking about that, anyway. I was just remembering Missy and all the plans she’d had for fixing this place up. She got sick, though, and ended up not being able to do any of it.”

“Sounds like this house means a lot to you,” I said, scooting up into a sitting position. I’d been hunched over for too long and my back was starting to cramp. Plus I wanted to see her better while we talked.

“It does. Missy was the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m not sure I’ve ever been able to talk as honestly with another person as I did her.” She let out a deep breath and her shoulders sagged. “I talked to a couple contractors today and got some prices for fixing things up, just so I had an idea of how much money I needed to save. It’s going be a while before I can afford it, though. I want to do all the stuff she couldn’t, but everything’s so expensive.”

“That’s why you started your business,” I said, tilting my beer toward her. “You’ll get the money.”

I still thought she should quit that whole thing, but I wasn’t going to tell her what to do. She got enough of that from her mom.

Bette’s green eyes met mine and the corner of her mouth turned down. “I’m not going to do that anymore.”

I froze with my bottle halfway to my lips, thinking I hadn’t heard her right. Not that I wasn’t glad to hear it. I’d only seen Bette at the restaurant a couple times, but both instances had reminded me too much of the meal I’d eaten with her and her mom.

“Why?”

“You were right,” she said, still looking at me. She tilted her head to the side and slowly her frown turned into a smile. “It was demeaning. Letting assholes who think they’re better than I am treat me like crap. Even though I rolled my eyes and acted like it didn’t bug me, it did. But for a while there I had myself convinced it was normal for people to treat me like shit. That I might as well take advantage of it and make some money. But you convinced me it’s not normal and I shouldn’t just sit back and let people treat me like that.”

“Even your mom?” I asked, hoping she’d finally stand up for herself for real.

Bette licked her lips and looked away, her eyes landing on the empty beer bottles. Then she looked back at me and said, “I’ve only seen you drink that much one other time. Bad day?”

I guess she wasn’t ready to talk about her mom with me.

“Just trying to relax for a change,” I said with a shrug. Like it was no big deal.

Bette laughed and shook her head as she took another sip of her beer. “Right. Chris Presley relaxed.”

“I’ve been known to relax,” I said, but laughed anyway.

Bette shook her head as she shifted in the chair, pulling her legs up and tucking them under her, her green eyes focused on me the whole time. “Tell me about your family. There has to be some reason you’ve decided it’s okay to live with a stick up your ass.”

“A stick up my ass?” I said, grinning. Maybe a comment like that would bug other people, but I was used to those kinds of jokes. My brother Jon was famous for them, and for getting himself into trouble and calling me for help. “Someone had to be the responsible one growing up or my brother probably would have ended up with a record.”

“So you have a brother?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Two,” I said. How had we never talked about this before? “I’m the youngest. Jon’s the screwup, though.”

“He gets in a lot of trouble?”

“Not anymore, but when we were in high school he was always pulling stupid shit. Drinking until he couldn’t stand up straight, then insisting he was okay to drive. I had to be the one who stayed sober and I got used to that. Ryan helped out when he could, though.” I stopped when the name slipped out of my mouth, then shook my head. Thinking about everything Ryan and I had been through made something inside me clench painfully. “It wasn’t just Jon we had to save, though. Ryan’s cousin Cami had more than her fair share of wild nights too. It was always Ryan and me to the rescue for those two, but it never really bothered either one of us. Ryan’s a naturally serious person, and I apparently suffer from stick-up-the-ass syndrome.”

Bette smiled, but it was hesitant and I had a pretty good feeling she was about to start in on me talking to Ryan again, which I wasn’t in the mood for.

“Anyway,” I said, sitting back, “Jon is older now and not as destructive, but he’s still irresponsible. He’s taken a few college classes, but it’s just to make our mom happy. He’s not the least bit interested in a career, just making enough money so he can go out on the weekends and party and pick up women. He isn’t picky about who he brings home as long as they know he has no intention of calling. Jon just has an issue with the idea of growing up.”

Bette’s red lips curled up into a smile. “Peter Pan syndrome?”

I threw my head back and laughed. It was perfect way to describe my brother, but it cracked me up that she felt the need to label everyone, especially when she didn’t like people to label her.

“You going to diagnose my whole family tonight?”

“Depends,” she said. “What issues does your other brother have?”

“Dave?” I shrugged. “None. Dave is older and has his life together. He does family law, has a little practice in Summerville.”

Bette puckered her lips, tapping a finger against them while she thought it through. “Married?”

“Nope.”

“In a relationship?”

I snorted. “Dave? I don’t think he’s ever had a girlfriend for more than three weeks.”

“So he’s either a workaholic or has commitment issues.” She sat back and crossed her arms, a satisfied smile on her face like she’d figured the whole thing out. She wasn’t far off, either. My money was on commitment issues. Probably had something to do with his asshole dad.

“You should have your own talk show,” I said, chuckling as I finished off my beer and hoisted myself to my feet.

I gathered all the empty bottles, giving Bette a pointed look. She just grinned. Then I headed into the kitchen. It was getting close to ten, and even though I’d had a late dinner my stomach was growling. A snack sounded good.

Bette came into the kitchen behind me, dumping her bottle into the recycling bin and holding the lid up so I could do the same. Then she headed over and jerked the refrigerator door open, apparently thinking the same thing I was.

“I’m starving,” she said, standing with the door open, studying the contents like she was waiting for a gourmet dinner to jump out at her. “What’d you have for dinner?”

“I got some crab legs.”

Her face scrunched up and she stuck out her tongue, making a little gagging noise. “Yuck.”

“Not a seafood fan?” I asked, laughing at the disgusted look on her face. “Really? We live in Charleston. Give me some crab legs and She Crab soup any day of the week and I’ll be happy.”

“Stop!” she said, holding her hands out in front of her and backing away. “The last time I ate crab legs was about three years ago, and I got so sick afterwards that I’m pretty sure I puked up a lung. Since then I haven’t been able to eat shellfish of any kind. Seriously, just thinking about it makes me want to hurl.”

I chuckled and had the urge to start listing the sea creatures I enjoyed eating the most, but her face was starting to turn green and I decided to take pity on her instead. “Okay, I’ll never mention it again. I swear.”

She shut the refrigerator door and crossed her arms over her stomach. “Thank you.”

“How about a pizza instead?” I suggested, yanking my phone out of my pocket and pulling up the app so I could order one.

“Perfect,” Bette said, smiling.

After I ordered the pizza, we sat in the living room talking while we waited for it to show up. When it arrived, we put the box between us on the coffee table and leaned over it while we ate. We drank and talked and watched old comedies from the nineties—there seemed to be a marathon of them on Comedy Central. I’d never been able to hang out with a girl and just be me. Not even Cami, who was like a sister to me sometimes. And forget the girls I’d dated. There had always been the urge to put my best foot forward so I could impress them, but with Bette it didn’t seem to matter. Somehow, I knew she’d like me no matter what kind of stupid shit came out of my mouth, and it was nice for a change.

“So you’re going out with Blake this weekend?” I asked Bette once the pizza had disappeared and I’d settled back onto the couch.

It was after midnight, but I wasn’t feeling the least bit tired and she didn’t act like she was in a hurry to go to bed either. I was having fun, which was something I hadn’t done in a while. I actually couldn’t remember the last time things had been fun and relaxed. Even the months dating Annie had been tense. At the time I hadn’t really understood why, but it became glaringly obvious the second I saw her and Ryan in bed together. Things had been off because I was the outsider. I didn’t feel like an outsider with Bette.

“Yes,” she said. “Blake and I are going out on Saturday.”

She smiled to herself and I could tell she was excited. I was happy for her too. Bette deserved someone who was going to be good to her and Blake was a nice guy. We hadn’t known each other that well when he’d told me about the job at the restaurant, but he’d seen that I was in a shitty place and needed the help. Now that we worked together I’d gotten to know him better, and I knew he wasn’t some asshole who was going to screw Bette over.

“He’s a good guy,” I said, nodding my approval.

“So you’re okay if I date him?” Bette asked in a teasing tone. “I have your stick-up-the-ass seal of approval?”

“I’m not sure. Let me see.” I wiggled my ass on the couch and scratched the side of my head, suddenly feeling like every ounce of alcohol I’d consumed that night was taking over my decision making. “It’s hard to say.”

I chuckled as I wiggled my ass again and Bette broke out into hysterics.

“Stop!” she said, shaking her head. “You look ridiculous.”

I kept wiggling and she laughed harder. Tears pooled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks, but I didn’t let up. My whole body was shaking with laughter and my abs actually ached from laughing and moving my ass back and forth so fast, but for some reason I couldn’t make myself stop. Not when she had to hug herself because her body was shaking so hard, and especially not when she almost fell out of the chair.

When Bette laughed so hard she snorted, I totally lost it. I stopped wiggling my ass and threw myself back against the cushions, cracking up as I pointed at her, unable to get a single word out but dying to make fun of her. Finally, after a few seconds, I managed to let out a snort of my own, making it so exaggerated it sounded like a hog was in the living room with us.

“You snorted!” I managed to say between laughs.

“Shut up!”

She grabbed a pillow off the couch and tossed it at my head, but I easily deflected it. I still couldn’t stop laughing, but at that point I couldn’t figure out what I was even laughing about. The whole thing had been dumb as shit, but with Bette it didn’t feel dumb. It felt natural and nice.

I snorted again, and Bette dove for me, launching herself from her chair and throwing her body against mine. “You are a jerk!” she said, still giggling. “Don’t you dare tell anyone I snorted!”

“I’m going to tell everyone,” I said, grabbing my phone out of my back pocket. “It will be my new Facebook status.”

Her eyes got huge and she grabbed for my phone, but I raised it up so she couldn’t get it. “You never even update your status on Facebook!”

“But this will be worth it,” I said, rotating as I pulled up the app, then trying to type while twisting and turning away from her grabbing hands. “Just tell me how to tag you in it.”

“See, you don’t even know how to work Facebook!” she cried, still reaching for my phone.

She wouldn’t let up. Her whole body was on top of mine and even though she was small and didn’t weigh much, we were both moving so much that every two seconds I got poked by a sharp elbow or knee and even one time a finger. It made me laugh harder, even though I knew I was going to be so spotted with bruises the next day that people would probably mistake me for a leopard.

I was still laughing when I threw my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. You win. I won’t tell anyone that you snort like a pig when you laugh. It will be our little secret.”

She crossed her arms and glared at me. “I do not sound like a pig. It’s cute.”

“Who told you that?” I said, shaking my head. “Someone who wanted to get in your pants?”

Her mouth dropped open and she blinked, then said, “My exboyfriend.”

“I knew it!” I threw my head back and laughed even harder while Bette scowled at me.

She settled onto the couch, and when her hip brushed against my toes I instinctively pulled my legs back. I wasn’t sure why. She didn’t seem to notice the contact and it wasn’t awkward, but for some reason it felt wrong. I didn’t know her well enough for our bodies to be touching when we were sitting together on the couch.

“I should have known he was lying,” Bette said, pretending to pout. “It was his defining characteristic.”

“Ouch. This was the last guy you dated?” It would make sense, considering her hesitation to go out with Blake.

Bette twisted toward me, a scowl still on her face. “Yup. Met Jeff right after I turned eighteen. Missy took me out and he begged me for my number. I wasn’t going to give it to him, but my aunt told me to go for it. She said I was only young once and that I should seize the day. Take advantage of life while I could. Since she was dying at the time, I kind of felt like I had to listen to her.”

“Geez. She really knew how to lay on the guilt.”

“She sure did.” Bette rolled her eyes, but smiled too. “She had a good attitude about the whole thing. There were times when I thought her illness was harder on me than it was on her.”

Bette frowned and I almost took her hand. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to comfort her. She looked so sad when she talked about her aunt, but we still didn’t know each other that well and I wasn’t sure if it would be awkward.

After a second, she shook her head. “Anyway, Jeff was a boxer. Big and broad and beefy, but charming too. Of course, I didn’t realize at the time that he was just a really good bullshitter. He knew what to say and how to say it to rope people in. I swear, he should be a used car salesman. We went out for about six months and I leaned on him way more than I should have. When Missy got sicker, things got really hard; then she died and I felt so lost and Jeff was there for me. He wasn’t above taking advantage of my vulnerability. He started sleeping over so I wouldn’t have to be alone and before I knew it he had his shit all over the place. It took me a while to realize that he’d actually moved in, though. At first I didn’t really care all that much, but then things started getting weird. He’d get calls from random girls in the middle of the night, and suddenly started going out of town for matches, then not call me the entire weekend.”

“So he was cheating on you?” I asked, shaking my head. Cheating was one of those things that I just couldn’t wrap my head around. If someone didn’t want to be in a committed relationship, why fake it? Just break up.

“Big time,” Bette said. “I suspected it early on, but Missy’s death made me look the other way for a while. I liked having someone in my bed at night so I didn’t have to be alone. Thankfully, I snapped out of it and kicked him out.”

“Relationships suck,” I said, thinking back on the girls I’d tried to fit into my life. Annie, then before that was Bethany, the girl who pretended to be someone else for the entire eight months we dated. Then there was my high school girlfriend, Amy. “I had a serious girlfriend all through my senior year of high school. Damn, I loved her. Thought we’d be together forever.”

Bette shifted on the couch, her green eyes holding mine. “What happened to her?”

“Broke up with me the night before she left for college. We’d talked about the future so many times that I didn’t have a clue it was coming. We’d discussed getting married and where we’d live and how many kids we’d have. When she broke up with me, she said she never intended to marry me.”

“Why act like she wanted to marry you, then?” Bette asked, shaking her head like she couldn’t figure it out. That made two of us. I’d spent the last two years trying to work out that puzzle and I still didn’t have an answer.

“She said it was fun to pretend, which didn’t make any sense to me. If I couldn’t see myself with a person forever, why would I want to pretend we had a future?”

“A normal person wouldn’t,” Bette said. “That’s messed up.”

I laughed. “Yeah, but it’s my fault too. I do that with everyone. When Amy and I were together she was the one. I had our whole life planned out. Then that didn’t work out and I started dating Bethany, and suddenly she was just perfect for me.”

“Then Annie,” Bette said.

I nodded, but looked away. She had a point, but the pain in my chest at the mention of Annie still made it hard to believe. I wouldn’t feel like my insides were being crushed if I didn’t love her. Right?

We lapsed into silence, but it didn’t last long. Bette scooted closer and took my hand, which caught me totally off guard. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You’re not totally wrong,” I mumbled, looking at my hand in hers.

“I’m not wrong at all, but it was still a bitch thing to say.”

That made me laugh. At least I would never have to worry about where I stood with Bette: she was honest to a fault.

“Whatever,” I said, sighing.

I slipped my hand out of hers and got to my feet. It was getting late and I had class the next day. “Listen,” I said before I’d taken even one step away from the couch. “I can help you fix the place up if you want. I told you that my dad does all that stuff, and I’ve worked with him enough to know what I’m doing. It would save you a lot of money.”

Bette’s eyes lit up, but she shook her head. “You don’t have to do that, Chris.”

“I know I don’t have to,” I said, grinning down at her, “but I want to. You care about this place and if I can help you out, I should. That’s what friends are for.”

Bette’s face broke out into a huge grin, and before I could react she was on her feet. She threw her arms around my neck, pulling me in for a hug. “Thank you, Chris, you are an amazing person.”

I laughed and hugged her back. If only I could find a woman I wanted to be with forever who thought that, I’d be all set. “You’re welcome.”

Chapter Eight

Bette

Blake and I met up after he got off work Saturday afternoon, then headed out for dinner. Afterward, we walked through downtown holding hands. Now that spring was here, the days had gotten hotter and everything had started to turn green. The warmer weather had also brought with it tourists, and the sidewalks were fuller than they’d been just a few weeks ago. There were more families now, probably in Charleston for a quick spring break getaway, and the atmosphere felt more festive than usual. Everywhere I looked, people shopped or took pictures, doing their best to soak up the historic atmosphere of the city while they could.

“What’d you think of the restaurant?” Blake asked after we’d walked a couple blocks in silence.

“It was good. I’d never been there before.” I smiled up at him and he squeezed my hand, sending a shiver of delight through me.

Blake was still smiling when we reached an intersection and stopped. Without warning, he pulled me against him. Right there in the middle of the sidewalk. My breasts were flush with his muscular chest and the contact warmed my whole body. I inhaled, and the sharp scent of booze tickled my nose. It clung to every inch of him and was so strong it made my head spin. As if I could get drunk just from breathing him in.

His hand snaked up my back to my neck and he pulled me closer. Then his mouth closed over mine. The kiss was warm and sexy, and would have made any sane woman melt into a puddle at his feet. It wasn’t the first time we’d kissed, but it was the first time I gave myself over to it completely. Allowed his tongue to pry my lips apart and explore my mouth. Gave him the right to taste me. Being in his arms was almost everything I’d ever imagined it would be.

Almost.

He pulled back and flashed me a smile that showed off his perfectly straight teeth. “We should go back to my place. I like Chris, but I’ve been dying to get you alone and I don’t want an audience for what I have in mind.”

The self-assured way he said it made my legs wobble. The idea of going back to Blake’s place was more than appealing, but I wouldn’t be accepting. Not tonight, and not any time soon. Which was something we needed to get out in the open before we went much further.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, wiggling out of his grasp. “In fact, it’s something we should talk about.”

His eyebrows pulled together when he frowned. “What’s wrong?”

I licked my lips nervously as people passed us on the sidewalk. We needed privacy. This conversation would go one of two ways, and how he reacted would tell me if Blake was actually the guy I thought he was.

“Let’s walk down to the bay,” I said. “It’s a nice night. Spring is here and this is the best time of the year to be outside in Charleston. Let’s enjoy it while we talk. Okay?”

Blake shrugged and threw his arm around my shoulders. He seemed as relaxed as usual, which was good. That was one thing I liked about Blake, how laid-back he was. He went with the flow, accepted things at face value. Including me.

Still, there was a tiny amount of tension in his voice when he said, “I’m game, as long as you’re not taking me there just so you can dump me. It took me almost a year to get you to agree to go out with me, after all. I don’t want to let you go just yet.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to dump you after just one date, but you don’t need to worry so much. That’s not what this is about,” I said, laughing, as we headed toward the bay.

The sun was setting and the sky above us was almost black, but along the horizon it was still bright orange. We passed the fountain at Waterfront Park and headed to the end of the pier. In the distance, the Ravenel Bridge was already lit up, the twin points glowing against the dark sky. It was a nice place to be: the historic city behind us and the modern-looking bridge ahead. Like the past meeting the present.

The pier was deserted other than an older couple sitting on one of the swings, which wasn’t a surprise. It was getting late, and most families had probably retired to their hotels after a day of sightseeing, while the rest of the city was getting ready to enjoy Charleston’s nightlife.

We stopped at the end of the pier and I took a deep breath, but I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. What I was about to say made me more of an oddball than even the tattoos and piercings and retro clothes.

“Hit me with it,” Blake said, leaning against the railing.

I turned to face him, but stared over his head. In the distance, I could just make out Fort Sumter, although it was so far away it didn’t look like much more than a dot. Beyond that a few lights that had to be boats bobbed up and down on the water. Seagulls screeched above us and soft waves lapped against the posts under the pier as the current moved out to the ocean.

“I love it here,” I said, not diving into my explanation right away. “I’m from Georgia. Did you know that?”

Blake shook his head. He ran his hand down my arm and laced his fingers gently through mine. “No, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. Leaving home was hard. I’m from a small town. So conservative.” I let out a deep sigh. “My parents are too, which may come as a surprise by looking at me.”

“I never had any preconceived ideas about you based on how you look, Bette.”

I laughed again. He sounded like Chris. “That’s a rare thing, thank you.”

“Why don’t you just tell me what this is all about?”

I turned to face him, not letting go of his hand, and my eyes held his as I said, “I came from a very conservative background, and it was drilled into me at an early age that I should wait until I was married to have sex.”

Blake’s body stiffened and his grip tightened on my hand. “Okay . . . So are you telling me you’re a virgin?”

“No,” I said firmly, trying not to think of Jeff and what an asshole he’d been and all the things he’d taken from me. “I’m not a virgin. What I’m telling you is that my view of sex is very different from most people my age. I slept with a guy I dated when I first got to Charleston. There were a lot of reasons why, but the short story is that it didn’t work out. Afterward, I was furious at myself for jumping into bed when I hadn’t known him that well, and I don’t want to make that mistake again. I’m not saying I’m never going to have sex with you, but I am saying I want to be damn sure I don’t do something I hate myself for later. I know sex isn’t a big deal to most people these days, but to me it is. You need to know that.”

Blake’s body relaxed and he nodded slowly. After a few seconds he said, “I can respect that. Actually, it’s kind of nice. I’m no saint, but I’m not someone who would bring a stranger home or anything either, and I actually don’t like the idea of someone I’m dating having done that. So I get it.”

“You’re okay with it? Even if we have to wait a year?”

Blake coughed and shook his head. “A year? You’re telling me we’ll have to wait a year before you’ll know if we’re serious?”

I tried to laugh it off, but he didn’t look very amused. I guess I couldn’t blame him, really. “Not necessarily. I’m just saying I don’t have a set time-frame. Some people say you have to go out for three months first, or ten dates. But some people go out for a year and still aren’t serious. I’m saying I want to wait until I know this is something real. It could be two months, it could be never.”

He nodded, but his face tensed, like agreeing to it physically hurt him. “Okay. We just take it one day at a time, then?”

“Exactly.”

“And in the meantime, I can do this.” He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. “And this . . .”

His lips covered mine again, and I closed my eyes. Allowed my body to melt into his as our mouths moved together. His body was warm and firm against mine, and having him so close was nice. Not earth shattering or mind altering, but nice.

Dating Blake didn’t make things as different as I thought it would. Chris and I fell into a pattern at the house, and Blake fit right in. If anything, things got more comfortable with him around. The three of us hanging out took the pressure off the whole sex thing, and the two guys got along. We spent weekends at the bar, days at the beach, and evenings at home lounging on the couch. Watching a movie or just talking.

My photography business was taking off, but in a different way than I’d expected. The local artists I worked with had passed my name along to friends and business owners, and before I knew it I found myself taking pictures and doing ad campaigns for local small businesses. Many were at night—photographing bar and club patrons while they hung out—but there were even some that needed to be done during the day. Usually it was downtown, but a few times I found myself heading out of Charleston to Mount Pleasant or even Isle of Palms. I was making enough money to justify dissolving my other business, which made not only me happy, but Chris too. The fact that he cared was more satisfying than finally getting away from my asshole clients.

Two weeks left in the school year and I was swamped with jobs while also trying to cram in time to study for finals. It was Friday and I’d spent a couple hours outside the city taking some pictures for a new client, but I had a paper to finish up and finals to study for so I was in a hurry heading home. Which was probably why I didn’t notice the random metal object I ran over as I sped down the street.

My tires thumped over it and the whole car shook and jerked, and right away I knew I was in trouble. I gripped the wheel and pulled over, cursing myself for not paying better attention. I was in the middle of nowhere, of course, surrounded by marshy woods and trees draped in Spanish moss. I knew my tire was flat before I even got out of the car, but stepping outside and hearing the air whooshing from it made me want to scream. Of course this would happen now when I had so much I needed to get done at home.

I knew how a person went about changing a tire, but that was the easy part. The hard part was the fact that I was wearing four-inch wedge heels and shorts that would leave my legs scratched and bleeding by the time I was done. Not to mention the fact that I wasn’t even sure if I was physically strong enough to get the lug nuts off my tires. Too bad my cheap-ass insurance didn’t provide roadside assistance.

I was standing in the middle of the deserted street right on the verge of calling a tow truck when my phone rang. I didn’t even glance down before answering it.

“Hello?” I said, still staring at my almost-flat tire.

“Hey,” Chris said, sounding out of breath. “Crazy thing happened. I opened the window and a bird flew in. I had to chase it around with a broom to get it back out, so there are feathers everywhere. I’m on my way to class now, but I wanted to let you know so you didn’t see the mess and freak out. I’ll clean it all up when I get home.”

“Oh, yeah, okay . . .” I gnawed on my lip, barely paying attention.

“Bette? Are you okay?” He sounded more alert and he wasn’t breathing as hard. Like he’d been hurrying to class and had stopped walking. In the background I could hear people talking as they passed him, as well as the occasional sound of a motor speeding by.

“I’m fine,” I said, letting out a sigh. Without thinking, I spouted off where I’d been and what I had been doing and where I was now, as well as the millions of things I had to do at home and how inconvenient it was that this had happened at this exact moment. “Anyway, I have a flat tire and of course I can’t change it. I guess I’ll be calling for help.”

“Don’t you have Triple A?”

“Nope.” The P popped out of my mouth when I smacked my lips together.

“Stay where you are. I’m on my way,” Chris said, and it sounded like he’d started walking again.

“What? No! Chris, you have class.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m on my way.” He hung up before I could protest and I was left staring at my phone like an idiot.

I briefly considered calling him back so I could tell him not to come, but I knew how that would end. He’d argue and end up coming anyway—Chris was too nice to leave me stranded out there—so it seemed pointless.

While I waited for Chris to show up, I sat in the front seat of my car watching videos on YouTube, trying to laugh and not feel tense at the seconds ticking away. It would have been nice if I at least had my books with me so I could study, but as it was, I had nothing other than my camera and phone.

Exactly seventeen minutes after Chris hung up the phone, a cab pulled to a stop behind me and he hopped out of the backseat. It hadn’t even occurred to me until that second that he didn’t have a car. How the hell had I thought he was going to come out here?

I threw my door open and climbed out just as he was paying the driver. “You took a taxi? Chris, I could have called a tow truck!”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I can change a tire.”

He grinned and I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling too. “I didn’t expect a knight in shining armor to show up and save me today.”

Chris eyed the taxi as it pulled away, shaking his head. “Doesn’t look very much like a valiant steed, now does it?”

I laughed. “Not really.”

He jerked his head toward the car and took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s get a new tire on so we can get back home.”

I stood next to him while he jacked the car up and took off the flat, then replaced it with the spare. He had on a pair of khaki shorts and a blue polo, and by the time he was done, both were streaked in dirt. His hands were covered in grease and his legs were filthy. When he swiped his hand across his cheek he left a black streak behind, making me laugh.

“You’re disgusting,” I said, rubbing at the black mark with my thumb. I only succeeded in smearing it across his face even more.

Chris shrugged and flashed me a crooked grin. “Being a hero is a dirty job, but someone has to do it.”

I laughed again, then nudged him with my elbow. “Hey, thanks for coming.”

“It was perfect timing, actually. You saved me from having to go to class.” His eyes darted to the car and he frowned. “Speaking of class, didn’t you say you had studying to do?”

I let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I guess we should probably head back.”

It was almost four by the time we got back to the house, and in the middle of the flat tire debacle I’d totally forgotten the crazy story Chris had told me about the bird. Of course, it all came screaming back the second we walked in the front door and I saw feathers littering the living room.

“Holy crap!” I said, freezing in my tracks with my mouth hanging open. It looked like a bird had been plucked in the middle of my living room.

“I told you.” Chris chuckled as he walked past me and grabbed the broom off the floor. He swept a few feathers into a pile, then paused, turning to look at me. “Why don’t you have screens on your windows?”

“Because they’re old,” I muttered, still baffled by how many feathers there were. Had the bird been bald by the time Chris got it out of here? “The screens were all rusty so I had to take them out. It’s one of the things I want to do. Get new windows for the house. But it’s going to cost me about four thousand dollars.”

“Shit.” Chris shook his head, then went back to sweeping up the feathers.

“Yeah,” I said, sighing, as I bent down to pick a few feathers up off the floor.

While we worked together to get the room cleaned up, Chris relayed the bird story to me all over again, only this time with extra detail. It felt like one of those fishing stories old men tell, the details getting crazier each time they repeat it until suddenly it isn’t a trout they caught, but a whale that almost swallowed their boat whole.

“The bird zoomed right past my head, so close that I swear it clipped me with its wing. Right away it started going nuts. Flying up, hitting the ceiling like it was trying to look for a way out. Then it started circling me!”

“Shut up,” I said, laughing.

He dumped a handful of feathers into the waiting bag and grinned, his brown eyes sparkling. “I’m serious. It was less than six inches above my head, just flying around me in circles. All I could think about was that Alfred Hitchcock movie and I kept waiting for more birds to swoop in.” He shook his head while he swept, but he was grinning and I was laughing my ass off at how dramatic he was being.

“What did you think was going to happen? Did you think he was going to peck your eyes out?”

Chris looked up and batted his eyes. “Maybe. I do have nice eyes. Do you think that’s what it wanted?”

“No,” I said, snorting and rolling my eyes. “I think the thing was freaked out and trying to escape.”

“You weren’t here,” Chris said dramatically. “It was after me.”

I laughed as I scooped the last handful of feathers up off the ground and shoved them into the bag. When I stood, Chris was leaning against the broom and grinning at me. His brown eyes sparkled and he was still streaked in dirt from changing my tire, but there was something adorably endearing about seeing him that way. About knowing I could depend on him to drop everything and come change my tire, or that he’d put a shower on hold so he could help me clean up the living room.

“How did you finally get the bird out?” I asked, returning his smile.

“I opened all the windows and the front door, then got the broom and chased it around. That’s where most of the feathers came from. The thing was chirping like crazy and flying into everything.”

Picturing Chris running around in circles trying get a bird to fly out of the living room made me laugh harder than ever. “Poor thing. You probably scared it half to death.”

“Don’t take that bird’s side!” he said, shaking his head. “That thing was involved in a plot to take over Charleston. I’m pretty sure he was just here to stake out the house and see where our weak spots are.”

“Well, now that you showed him we’re armed with deadly brooms, we probably won’t have to worry.”

Chris held his broom up proudly and I smacked him with my trash bag, making us both laugh all over again.

Someone knocked on the door, drawing my attention to the clock. I’d totally forgotten Blake had said he’d come over around five until I saw what time it was. For some reason, I was disappointed that Blake was interrupting my conversation with Chris. Things with Blake had been going well, but it wasn’t as relaxed as it was with my roommate. With Chris I could just be myself and not have to worry about impressing him; plus, he was enjoyable to hang out with. Despite his stick-up-the-ass syndrome, Chris was actually a pretty fun guy.

“That’s Blake,” I said, tossing Chris the trash bag and heading toward the door. “Do you mind throwing that away for me?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Chris said, still smiling as he turned toward the kitchen.

Blake grinned down at me when I opened the door. His sandy hair was messy from the wind and he had on a black t-shirt that stretched across his arms, showing off every perfectly sculpted muscle.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, winking as he stepped in and shut the door behind him.

“Hey.” I returned his smile, and it only grew wider when he pulled me against him. His lips closed over mine in a soft kiss that was somehow sexy and sweet at the same time.

“Oh, sorry,” Chris said from behind me, making me pull away.

Blake gave me a squeeze before letting me go, but he frowned when he saw Chris. “What the hell happened to you?”

I turned and busted out laughing all over again when I caught sight of Chris grinning down at his filthy clothes.

“Go get a shower,” I said, waving toward the stairs.

Chris flashed me a crooked smile, then headed up, and when I turned back to Blake he was still frowning.

“Sorry,” I said, standing up on my tiptoes so I could kiss him. “I had a flat tire today and Chris came out to help me.”

“You had a flat?” he asked, his eyes getting big. Then he looked toward the stairs and pressed his lips together. “And you called Chris . . .”

I didn’t see the problem, so I shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, no. I was there trying to decide what to do and Chris just happened to call, so he offered to come out. It saved me from having to call a roadside service.”

Blake looked back at me. He tilted his head and his eyes swept over my face like he was trying to figure out what to say. “Why would you have to call a roadside service? You could have called me.”

I froze. Blake was right. We were dating and it would have made perfect sense for me to call him, but the thought had never even entered my mind. Why hadn’t I thought to call Blake when I was standing on the side of the road? He had a car. He could have come out to help me. It was weird, but not really a big deal. It wasn’t like I thought he wasn’t capable or too selfish to help. I just hadn’t really thought about him.

“I know, but I didn’t want to bug you. Plus, Chris offered,” I said, trying to shrug off his worries.

“You wouldn’t have been bothering me, Bette. It bugs me that you’d ask Chris to help, but not me.” He acted all offended, but it wasn’t like I’d called Chris for help either. It had just worked out that way.

“I told you, I didn’t call him. It just kind of happened.”

Blake sighed, but he didn’t really smile. “Okay. I just want you to know you can count on me to help you.”

“Of course I know I can count on you,” I said, flashing him a smile.

There was something about it that bugged me, though. Ever since our little no-sex talk Blake had been doing everything in his power to try to show me how serious he was about our relationship. He called me his girlfriend every chance he got—I still referred to him as the guy I was dating—and he’d even invited me to a friend’s wedding over the Fourth of July weekend. I’d told him maybe on that one. I felt like he was trying to rush things just so we could get to the point where we were sleeping together, which told me one very important thing about him. He hadn’t really understood the point of our conversation. You couldn’t force yourself to be serious about another person. Either it got there or it didn’t.

Right now, I wasn’t at that place with Blake.

Chapter Nine

Chris

I came downstairs after my shower to find the TV on and Bette and Blake snuggled up on the couch. He was watching a game while she sat next to him, a textbook in her lap and her eyes glued to the pages. She looked like she was really concentrating. That didn’t stop Blake from running his fingers up and down her arm, though. Tracing the branches of her tattoo almost absentmindedly as he sipped his beer.

The afternoon with Bette had been fun—despite getting filthy while changing a tire and having to sweep a shit ton of feathers up off the living room floor—and Blake showing up had felt like an intrusion. Which was just weird. I wasn’t Bette’s boyfriend. He was.

I grabbed a beer from the kitchen then headed out to join the others, throwing myself into the chair. I didn’t care for either one of the teams playing, and within two minutes I was bored with the game. Baseball season wasn’t nearly as exciting as football season. Even if the Falcons did lose so much.

“You work this afternoon?” I asked Blake.

He nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Yup. We were busy at lunch. How’d you get off today?”

“Lucky, I guess.”

He nodded again and took another drink, and he still didn’t look away from the TV. Bette was reading, and a couple times I saw her glance at Blake out of the corner of her eye. He was still running his hand up and down her arm, which for some reason irritated me. Probably because she was studying. Didn’t he realize he was bugging her?

“I saw that friend of yours,” Blake said after a few minutes, and right away my back stiffened. He only knew one of my friends. “What’s his name? Ryan? He was there eating lunch with his girlfriend.”

Bette looked up from her book, her eyes meeting mine. Her lips pulled together into a pout while I worked on forcing myself to breathe. I couldn’t look away from her, not even when she shot me a look and I knew she was telling me to calm down. How I knew what she was trying to communicate with that look was beyond me, but it made me feel good while irritating the hell out of me at the same time.

Blake didn’t seem to notice the tension, though. He went right on watching the game, still running his fingers over Bette’s arm, drinking his beer like he hadn’t just punched me in the gut with his words.

“Yeah,” I managed to get out after almost an entire minute of silence. “Ryan.”

“I guess they were celebrating his birthday.” Blake shrugged and glanced my way for half a second before his eyes were once again on the TV.

That’s right. I’d forgotten what day it was, but today was Ryan’s birthday. I’d been too busy with classes, then helping Bette with the flat tire to remember before, and to be honest I would have been okay not remembering. But Blake didn’t know that Ryan’s girlfriend was my ex. Back when it happened, all I’d told him was that I got dumped and needed to move. No reason to share all the humiliating details.

Bette’s gaze held mine for a few seconds longer, then she shook her head and went back to her studying. Even though I didn’t really expect her to bring all that shit up in front of Blake, I was still glad she didn’t say anything about it.

We went back to watching TV in silence, but I was still tense. I tried to focus on the game and my beer, hoping my body would relax. It took longer than I liked, but I couldn’t help it. Blake’s comment had me thinking about Annie again, analyzing every second of our relationship. Trying to figure out what I’d done wrong. I knew in the beginning there had been moments when I’d put a lot of pressure on her, but after a while I’d stepped back and been patient and let her figure things out. That had been one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do in my whole life. I liked to be in control; just waiting around didn’t feel right to me. It hadn’t worked either.

By the time Blake got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, none of us had said a word in close to thirty minutes. “I’m starving.” He twisted his back until it popped and Bette made a face.

She slid her book off her lap and got to her feet, heading to the kitchen. “Let me see what I have.”

“We can order something,” Blake called after her, then muttered, “I could go for some crab legs. Sounds good.”

“Bette can’t eat shellfish,” I said, smiling when I thought about that night a couple weeks before when we’d stayed up all night talking.

Blake’s eyes snapped toward me and he frowned. “She allergic?”

“No. Just got food poisoning once and now they make her sick.”

He nodded slowly, but irritation flashed in his eyes. I wasn’t exactly sure why that annoyed him, but since I wasn’t in the habit of butting into their relationship, I just let it go.

“I can make spaghetti,” Bette called from the kitchen, “or chicken fettuccini.”

“You have studying to do,” I said, getting up. “Let me go pick something up for you.”

“I can get it,” Blake snapped. “I’m her boyfriend. You don’t have to run around changing her tires and getting her food when I can do it.”

I held my hands up and stepped back. I’d never seen Blake lose his cool before and I wasn’t sure what had brought it on, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a point. He was her boyfriend.

“Sorry, man. I was just trying to be nice.”

Blake sighed and swiped his hand through his hair. “I know. Sorry, I’m just a little jumpy.”

Bette came out of the kitchen smiling, totally oblivious to Blake’s outburst. “I can cook. It won’t take me long and I could use a break.”

“Fettuccini sounds good to me.” Blake threw himself onto the couch and a feather flew into the air, floating around in front of his face for a few seconds before dropping onto his lap. He picked it up and frowned. “Where did this come from?”

I turned to look at Bette, and the second our eyes met we cracked up laughing. The bird thing had been one of those insane moments that felt like it shouldn’t have happened, and laughing about it with Bette had made the whole thing seem even more surreal.

“A bird attacked Chris today,” Bette said in a tone that was so mocking no one could have missed it.

“I didn’t say it attacked me,” I protested.

“You said it was plotting to take over the Charleston area!”

“Well, I have good reason to believe that’s true. It was circling the room like it was looking for a flaw in our defenses.”

“At least you had the broom to save you!”

We went back and forth for a few seconds, and the longer we talked, the more Bette laughed. She was getting to the point she’d been at the other night when she snorted, and just thinking about it was making me laugh even harder. I was so caught up in the conversation that I’d totally forgotten Blake had even asked a question.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” he asked, making us both turn.

He didn’t look happy, and the way his eyes snapped between the two of us made me wonder if he was jealous. That would have been stupid, though. Bette and I were just roommates and I was still in love with Annie.

“Sorry!” Bette said to Blake, still smiling. “A bird flew through the window today and Chris told me this ridiculous story about how he got it out.”

Blake kept looking back and forth between the two of us like he wasn’t sure how to respond. “How did it get inside?”

“The window,” I said, shrugging. With the way he was looking at me, it was better to keep my answers as short as possible.

Blake’s eyes went to the windows and he frowned. “No screens.”

“I need new windows. Maybe I’ll be able to afford them next year.” Bette shot me a grin before heading back into the kitchen. “Let me start dinner.”

“She should just sell this place,” Blake muttered, looking around the room with a frown. “It needs too much work and she can’t afford living here without a roommate as it is. It’s just going to suck her dry.”

“She can’t sell the house,” I said.

Blake’s eyes snapped up and his frown deepened. “Why not? It would sell fast. There’s always someone looking for a historic house to fix up in this area.”

I almost told him that Bette’s aunt had left her the house, but I thought better of it. Maybe she hadn’t told him. Maybe she didn’t want to share that with him for some reason. I knew her connection with her aunt was something special, and I didn’t feel like it was my place to tell Blake about it.

Instead I said, “This house means a lot to her.”

Blake frowned even more and I squirmed when he narrowed his eyes. “You two seem to know a lot about each other.”

“We live together,” I said, shrugging again, trying to act like it was no big deal.

By that point, it was pretty clear Blake was feeling threatened and he had a point. We did live together and spent a lot of time talking. Plus, I’d told her all about Annie and Ryan and I hadn’t told anyone else. Not even my mom, who was dying to know why Ryan and I weren’t talking. And Bette had shared all kinds of things with me about her mom and dad and how strained their relationship was. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal before, but now I wondered if it was. It didn’t seem like she’d really opened up to Blake a whole lot.

Blake and I watched the game in silence while Bette cooked, then the three of us sat around the small table talking as we stuffed ourselves with fettuccini. I did my best to stay out of their conversation, and by the time dinner was over Blake seemed a lot more relaxed.

The second we were done, though, he headed back to the couch while I helped Bette clear the table. She didn’t seem very thrilled by the idea of waiting on him, and I couldn’t blame her. My mom would have slapped me upside the head if she found out I’d made Bette both cook and clean up.

“Thanks for helping,” she muttered, her eyes darting toward the living room, where Blake was spread out on the couch.

“Thanks for cooking. In fact, you go sit down. I can do this.” I tried to take the plate out of her hand, but she wouldn’t let me at first.

“We can do it together,” she said, grinning up at me.

“No,” I said firmly, this time yanking the plate out of her hand. “You cooked, so it’s only fair that I clean up. Plus, I know you still have studying to do.”

Bette laughed, then gave me a little hug that I couldn’t return because I was holding a dirty plate in each hand. “Thanks, Chris.”

When she walked out, I could still feel her breasts pressed against my chest.

Bette yawned and slammed her book shut at the same time, drawing my attention away from the TV. “I’m beat,” she said, but the words came out distorted.

Blake pulled his eyes away from the movie long enough lean over and kiss her on the shoulder. “It’s early.”

“It’s almost midnight,” Bette grumbled.

She rolled her eyes as she got to her feet and I followed her lead, not saying a word as I scooped the multiple empty beer bottles up off the table. Blake seemed to think the house was his trash can.

“You read my mind,” Bette said, motioning toward the beer bottles in my hand.

“I know how you like things to be around here.”

“Good point.”

I turned to find Blake looking back and forth between us with a puzzled expression on his face. “Has anyone ever mentioned that you two act like an old married couple sometimes?”

I chuckled and Bette rolled her eyes. After all the earlier comments from Blake, I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, so I shrugged and said, “Don’t start. I spent a good twenty minutes on the phone this afternoon trying to convince my mom Bette and I are just friends. She’s convinced I’m hiding something.”

“If it helps, I’ll move into Bette’s room so I can keep everyone from talking.” Blake wiggled his eyebrows at her, but his body language was stiff. “Just an offer. Wouldn’t want the rumors to start flying.”

“I think we’re going to be okay,” Bette said, rolling her eyes while stifling a yawn. “The neighbors don’t usually stop by unannounced.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Your mom will be relieved. What would they say if they stopped by at dinner and found out you don’t know what side the fork goes on?”

Bette threw her head back and laughed so hard it echoed through the house, and made her tits bounce—which I tried extra hard not to notice.

“That would be horrible,” she said as she turned to face me, earning her a frustrated sigh from Blake. “My mom would never be able to hold her head up when she came to visit. Lucky for me, I don’t care who finds out, so even if the neighbors do stop by, I’m going to be okay.”

I played along, grinning and putting my hands—still loaded down with beer bottles—on my hips. “I thought you were raised better than that.”

Bette laughed even harder when I made a little tsk-tsk sound, bringing her dangerously close to snorting territory.

Blake frowned and looked back and forth between the two of us like we were insane. “What’s so funny about a fork?”

“Just an inside joke,” Bette said with a dismissive wave.

“I like jokes,” Blake said. The tone in his voice told me it was time to make an exit.

I headed for the kitchen just as Bette said, “It’s not a big deal. Just something crazy that happened when my mom was here.” From there the conversation moved on to Blake trying to convince Bette to let him stay the night. Usually it didn’t bug me, but for some reason I wasn’t in the mood for it. She was obviously tired and it had been a long day, not to mention the fact that finals were coming up. Blake needed to respect Bette’s wishes more.

He was really starting to get on my nerves.

I dumped the handful of beer bottles into the recycle bin and turned to start the dishwasher just as Bette said, “Not tonight, Blake. I’m tired.”

“Come on,” he replied in a low voice, and the sounds that followed made it clear how he was planning on convincing her to let him stay.

I shoved one of the little detergent packs into the correct slot, then shut the dishwasher. The second I hit start, the whirl of the appliance drowned out the kissing sounds coming from the other room, which was fine by me. Overall I liked living with Bette, but sometimes I felt like an intruder in my own house.

Since I wanted to avoid walking in on my roommate making out with her boyfriend, I decided to hang out in the kitchen for a minute. I got myself a glass of water and sipped it while I went over my to-do list in my head. With finals week looming, I had a lot I needed to get done. I’d skipped out on class to help Bette with her flat tire, which meant I was a little behind there, but I’d managed to catch up in all my other classes. Still, my finals were a much bigger deal this semester than they’d ever been before. I’d never had such low grades in my life—even if they were Cs and low Bs—and I needed to ace these tests so I could get them up.

After next week, things would settle down. I was taking on a few more shifts at the restaurant since tourist season was here and I couldn’t stomach the thought of moving home. I didn’t have a clue what Ryan planned to do, but I didn’t want to risk moving back in with my parents just in case he decided to go home for the summer. Plus, I couldn’t run out on Bette now. She needed my rent if she wanted to get the place fixed up.

Which brought up something I hadn’t thought about in a few weeks. I’d told her I could help fix a few things, and summer would be the perfect time to get it done. I knew she wanted to renovate the bathrooms and kitchen, and while it was going to be a big job, there was no reason we couldn’t get at least the half bathroom done between the two of us.

I was totally lost in my own world when Bette walked into the kitchen. Alone.

Chapter Ten
Bette
“He’s gone,” I said. “You can stop hiding.”

Chris downed the rest of his water and set the glass in the sink. “I wasn’t hiding. Just giving you some privacy.”

“Whatever. I was tired before I had to get Blake out the door, now I’m exhausted,” I said, flicking off the kitchen light and heading back out into the living room. “Let’s go to bed.”

Chris chuckled as he came after me. “Is that an invitation?”

“Please,” I said with a snort. “I’m so tired I can’t even keep my eyes open, there’s no way I have enough energy for sex.”

“Because otherwise you’d be totally up for it?”

I was halfway up the stairs but stopped to glance over her shoulder, rolling my eyes at him. “You wish.”

“How did you know?” he said, totally playing along.

I laughed and shook my head. “I read your diary.”

“Shit, and here I thought I’d found the perfect hiding place for it.”

I reached the second floor and paused outside my room. Chris was so easy to fool around with. “You’re a nerd.”

He stopped in front of me and put his hand over his heart, trying to look like he was offended despite the smile on his face. “That hurts. I’m going to have a lot to say about you in my diary tonight.”

I rolled my eyes again, laughing at the same time. He dropped his hand to his side and joined in. Now that Blake was gone, the easygoing atmosphere was back.

“Seriously, though,” he said once the laughter had died off. “I was just thinking about it in the kitchen, and it seems like summer is the perfect time to get started on renovating that bathroom. If you’re still interested in my help, that is.”

“I thought you’d forgotten,” I said, smiling even more.

“Naw, I was just busy with school.”

I studied his face for a few seconds, trying to get a read on him. It wasn’t like I didn’t want the help, but Chris had to have more enjoyable things he could be doing with his summer. He didn’t exactly strike me as the type of guy who liked to get his hands dirty. Too uptight.

“You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to,” I said. “I know it’s going to be a lot of work and I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I’m happy to help,” he said. “Really.”

A smile stretched across my face so wide that my cheeks actually hurt. “I’d be thrilled to have your help, Chris. Thank you.”

“That’s what friends are for. It’s not a big deal.” He shrugged and took a step toward his room. “Now get some sleep so you’re all rested for your finals.”

The following weekend was the last one before finals week. I’d spent every night cramming and working on final projects, plus I’d had a couple client projects I needed to finish up, so by Sunday night I was ready for a break. Chris had driven home that morning for some family event and Blake was working, so I had the house to myself for the first time in a long time.

I was curled up on the couch reading when Chris walked through the front door, causing a smile to spread across my face. “You’re back. How are your mom and dad?”

Chris grinned before tossing my keys on the table where I usually left them. “Good. Thanks for lending me your car. It’s loaded down with tools, thanks to my dad. We should be able to get a good start on your bathroom remodel once classes are over.”

“You remembered!”

“Of course I did,” Chris said, chuckling as he headed across the room.

I shoved my book aside and climbed to my feet, heading over to where Chris stood, staring into my minuscule half bathroom. His forehead was creased and a frown pulled down his lips, making my stomach drop. Was he having second thoughts?

“What’s wrong?” I asked, stopping next to him. “Is the job too big for you?” He shook his head and took a step inside. “Just going through a checklist in my head. I need to apply for the permit right away. That could take a while. Once we have it, ripping all this out is going to be the first step.” Chris tapped his knuckles against the tiled wall.

That was the moment that it hit me how much work this remodel was going to be. The house was old—built in the early 1900s—and the last time it had been remodeled was in the fifties. Which was obvious to anyone who set foot in the bathroom and saw the peach tile covering the walls. Gutting it was going to be rough.

“Do you have any idea what you want to do in here?” Chris asked, tearing his eyes away from the interior designer’s nightmare in front of him.

“Something classic that won’t need to be redone for a long time.” I’d looked through a lot of magazines and decided on something simple: gray walls with white trim. It was neutral and wouldn’t go out of style for years to come, and would be easy to keep up. “No tile on the walls at all, just sheetrock.”

“That will save you money,” Chris said, nodding. “Will make the job easier too. What about the floors?”

“White, I think. I still need to go to a store and look at tile in person, though.”

Chris nodded slowly, his eyes sweeping over the small space. “Should take a couple days to demo this. We’ll need to cover everything in the living room, though. It’s going to get dusty in here.”

“I’d suggest opening the windows, but I wouldn’t want you to get attacked again.” I grinned when Chris shook his head.

“I’m telling you, that bird had it in for me.”

“Right,” I said, giggling. “Do you want me to ask Blake if he can help? It would make the job go a hell of a lot faster if we had another set of hands.”

Chris frowned, then shook his head. “I don’t think there’s room in here for a third person.”

“Good point.”

After Blake’s jealous behavior the last time we’d all hung out, I had an odd feeling he wasn’t going to like being left out of this project. But Chris made a valid argument. The bathroom was tiny, and having just the two of us in it was a tight fit. I couldn’t imagine cramming a third person in here. Plus, I got the feeling Blake wouldn’t be thrilled about the whole thing. He seemed uncomfortable about the amount of time Chris and I spent together.

It seemed he was always trying to make our relationship more serious, but that’s not what it was about. I had to be certain that there was something real between us. It couldn’t be forced.

Chapter Eleven

Chris

By the time the last week of classes came along, I was more than ready to be done with the school year. My parents were still bugging me to come back home, but I was able to get them off my back by telling them I was helping Bette with her bathroom remodel. It made my dad happy because I’d never really liked to do all that stuff, and my mom was thrilled because she still suspected I was lying to her about my relationship with my roommate.

Even though I’d managed to squeak by in most of my classes I still had one more final, which just so happened to be the hardest one. I’d stayed up most of the night studying and was feeling somewhat confident, but exhausted. Which was why I decided to swing by Starbucks for a pick-me-up before heading to class.

I was skimming my notes as I stood in line, trying to commit all the algorithms to memory, and was caught totally off guard when someone tapped me on the shoulder. My notes slipped from my hands and dropped to the floor.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“Sorry!” a feminine voice said from behind me.

I turned just as the girl leaned down to scoop my notes up off the floor. When she stood, she held them out to me with a big smile on her face, and my insides twisted. Her eyes were big and round and pale blue, and I recognized Jess right away. She was Ryan’s ex-girlfriend.

“I thought that was you,” she said, her smile getting even wider. “Haven’t seen you in a while, Chris.”

“Uh, yeah,” I managed to get out, taking the notes from her. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“Finals, right?” She shrugged like she understood why I was so preoccupied.

The line moved forward, and I shuffled with it, all the stuff I’d been memorizing melting away as Jess smiled up at me. When was the last time I’d seen her? The day we’d all gone to a party at the beach stood out in my mind. Ryan, Jess, Cami, Annie, and I had all squeezed into Ryan’s car and driven to Folly Beach for the day. Annie and I had been on the outs at the time, and I can remember her flirting with some tattooed assholes on the beach. I’d wanted to step in and talk some sense into her, but Ryan had. At the time, I’d been grateful, because I’d thought he’d had my back. Thought he was on my side. But that hadn’t been the case . . .

“You okay?” Jess asked, her smile fading.

I cleared my throat and nodded as I shoved my notes into my back pocket. “Yeah. I was just thinking about that trip to the beach we took.”

Jess’s eyebrows shot up and for some reason she smiled again. “Oh yeah! I rode with you guys down there, didn’t I?” She giggled, which was weird as hell. I knew Ryan was messing around with Annie while he was still dating Jess. She had to know too, right?

“Yeah,” I muttered, turning to face the counter when the line moved forward.

I was next, then I could get the hell out of there and go fail my test, which was bound to happen now that all I could think about was Annie and Ryan and how the girl I was in love with had been screwing around with my best friend when I wasn’t looking.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jess asked.

When I looked back, her eyebrows were pulled together and her eyes were narrowed. “I know you and Annie broke up and she’s seeing Ryan now, but . . .” She shrugged.

I didn’t answer, but instead turned back to face the front when the barista called out, “Next!”

After I’d ordered I hurried to the other side of the counter, hoping Jess would get the point and leave me alone. She didn’t, of course. The second she had paid for her coffee, she came over to stand next to me.

“You’re mad at Ryan,” she said flatly.

“You’re perceptive.” I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “Aren’t you pissed?” She didn’t act like it.

“I don’t think this is the place to go into all that. We should get together one day and I’ll tell you all about it. Give me your phone,” she said, holding out her hand.

I obeyed before I could think better of it, watching with my mouth hanging open as Jess typed in her number. Then she sent herself a text, from my phone. Hers dinged in her pocket, and she whipped it out the second she’d handed mine back. I leaned closer to see her saving my number, catching sight of the text I had supposedly sent her.

Chris: Nice ass.

She looked up and smiled. “Why, thank you. I’ve been working out.”

Despite my aching heart and the fact that the girl standing in front of me was confusing as hell, I laughed. “You’re welcome.”

Jess grinned up at me. She was cuter than I’d remembered her being. Back when she and Ryan had been together, I’d been so focused on Annie that I almost couldn’t see anyone else.

“So we’ll get together one day?” she asked hopefully. “I think Monday afternoon would work for me.”

I shook my head, trying to figure out how the hell I’d ended up making plans with Ryan’s ex. “Um . . . Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

“Good!”

Jess beamed at me, then spent the next five minutes while we waited for our coffee talking my head off, giving me highlights of her favorite moments from her freshman year. I was shocked by how much the girl standing in front of me reminded me of Cami. Giggly and outgoing and loud. How the hell did Ryan and this chick ever go out? They weren’t right for each other at all.

Somehow, despite the fact that tourist season was in full swing, I found myself with the night off the following Sunday. Finals week had been stressful, then I’d had the whole encounter with Jess—which still had my head spinning—not to mention a busy Friday and Saturday night at the restaurant. So, even though I felt kind of lame about it, I decided to spend the evening on the couch watching a movie.

I’d just settled down with a bowl of popcorn when the front door opened behind me. Bette walked in and I paused with the remote pointed at the TV, waiting for Blake to come in behind her, but she was alone. Guess he was peddling booze tonight.

“You’re off?” she asked, setting her purse on the table right next to my keys.

Sometimes, it did feel like we were married.

“Yup. I think it’s the first Sunday I’ve had off since I started,” I said, turning back to the TV. “Not that I’m complaining. I make good tips on the weekends, but it’s also busy as hell.”

I brought up the guide and flipped through until I found the movie I’d recorded a couple nights ago. This was the first chance I’d had to watch it and a good scare sounded nice to me.

“Movie night?” Bette asked. I turned to find her green eyes moving from the popcorn to the TV, a little smile curling up her lips.

“The Exorcist,” I said, trying to do a spooky voice that instead came out sounding like I was choking on a piece of popcorn.

She pressed her lips together into a little pout like she always did, and it hit me really hard how incredibly sexy it made her look. “Never seen it.”

“Come watch it with me.” I patted the empty space next to me on the couch. “It’s a classic.”

Bette stepped back, putting her hands up like she was afraid the movie would escape the TV and attack her. “No way! I’ll never be able to sleep if I watch that!”

“It was made in the seventies. It was scary then, but now it’s just cheesy.”

“But you just said it was a classic,” she said accusingly. “How can it be cheesy and still be a classic?”

“Classics can be cheesy.”

Bette pursed her lips again as she stared at the TV, trying to decide. Finally, she let out a big sigh. “Okay, but only if you let me sit as close to you as I want. And if I get scared tonight, you have to agree to come sleep on the floor in my room.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Fine, whatever you say.”

“I’m going to regret this,” she said, turning toward the stairs. “Give me a second while I go change into something more comfortable.”

“Okay,” I called after her.

She was back in ten minutes wearing a pair of tiny cotton shorts that barely covered her ass and emphasized her long legs. She also had on the same purple tank top she wore to bed almost every night, and she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“I’m already regretting this,” Bette said, heading my way.

I did my best to keep my eyes off her tits, but it was impossible sometimes. They were so round and perky that I had to move the popcorn bowl right over my crotch so I didn’t humiliate myself. Damn, she looked good.

To my total shock—and relief—she turned off the lights before sliding onto the couch next to me. In the dark she wouldn’t be able to see how hard I was, but she’d also be more scared. It didn’t really make sense that she’d want the lights off at all.

“I thought you were scared,” I said. “Why’d you turn off the lights?”

She scooted over until her body was right up against mine, and I swear my pants shrank two sizes.

“If you’re going to make me watch a scary movie, then we’re going to do this right. Which means the lights off and a blanket on.” She grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and unfolded it. “Move the bowl. I need this to protect me.”

I did as I was told, and when her hand brushed against my thigh—inches from my rock-hard dick—I had a difficult time breathing.

“How is a blanket going to protect you?” I managed to get out.

“If I get scared, I can cover my face with it.”

“I’ll be sure not to fart under it then,” I joked, trying to ease the tension in my own body and mask the fact that she had my heart beating so hard it could pass for a drum.

She snorted. “Men are disgusting. Start the movie.”

I did as I was told and started the movie, but I couldn’t pay attention. Bette was wearing something that smelled fucking great—like vanilla or cinnamon or maybe even both—and her body was warm and firm pressed against mine. Every time she reached over to grab a handful of popcorn, her right breast brushed my arm. Her nipple was hard, which only made me harder. Damn. When did she start making me feel like this?

The light from the TV screen flickered across the room, accentuating her cleavage. I shifted, and the popcorn bowl rubbed against my crotch. Shit, this was a bad idea.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, scooting closer to me.

Her fingers wrapped around the blanket and she pulled it up to her chin. It blocked her tits from my view, which helped me focus on the screen a little bit better. If I could just watch the damn movie, I could stop thinking about how great it felt to have her body up against mine. Demon possessed little girls were not sexy.

Just watch the movie, Chris. Just watch the movie.

Bette jumped about a foot off the couch. “Son of a bitch!”

She scooted over so fast the popcorn bowl wobbled on my lap. I managed to catch it right before it fell to the floor, but it didn’t stay on my lap long. Bette grabbed it out of my hands and put it on the table, leaving me defenseless.

“You’re supposed to protect me!” she said, turning sideways. Pressing both breasts against my arm. Hiding her face on my shoulder.

I forced out a laugh that sounded more like I was choking. “I thought the blanket was going to protect you.”

“You’re both going to!”

She was practically in my lap and I knew it was hopeless. I couldn’t pay attention to anything happening on the screen. No projectile-vomiting kid was going to distract me from the feel of Bette’s firm tits against my arm or the way her perfume tickled my nose. I was a guy, after all, and something like this . . . I wasn’t strong enough to be unaffected.

I barely breathed the rest of the movie, and every time Bette got closer, my heart beat faster. By the time the credits started rolling, she was cussing like a sailor and I felt like I’d been kicked in the balls.

I needed some time alone.

I tried to get up, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back down. “Where the hell are you going?”

“To the bathroom.” I forced out a laugh. “You can handle it if I leave you for a few minutes, right? Or do you want to come with me?”

Just the thought of her coming into the bathroom with me, unzipping my pants, pulling out my dick and taking it in her hand . . .

I groaned and pushed the thoughts away.

“This is your fault, mister.” She poked a pointed nail against my chest. “You made me watch this movie. ‘It’s cheesy, Bette. Don’t be a baby.’ Cheesy, my ass! That was scary!”

Somehow, I managed to get to my feet, but that almost made things worse. Bette was staring up at me from the couch, and I couldn’t think of a damn thing but how close her mouth was to my crotch. All she’d have to do was lean forward . . .

Thank God it was still dark.

I was desperate to get away. “I’ve got to piss, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Bette pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Hurry up.”

“Okay,” I said, heading for the bathroom. It was going to take me less than a minute at this rate.

I was pretty sure I was an asshole for thinking about Bette this way, but it was just physical and something I couldn’t control. It was normal. She was hot, any red-blooded man could see that, and I was a guy. It only made sense that having her pressed up against me would turn me on. Right?

Chapter Twelve

Bette

Chris was taking forever in the bathroom. The lights were still off and I was positive that there were freaky little demon-possessed girls lurking in every dark corner of the room. Every little sound made my heart almost stop. I was starting to really regret letting him talk me into watching that stupid movie. But Chris had looked up at me from the couch with that adorable smile on his face, and curling up with him had seemed like fun.

And it had been.

Of course, now I was shaking and I couldn’t stand the thought of going up to bed by myself. If Blake had been here, I probably would have given in and let him sleep over, just so I didn’t have to spend the whole night cowering under my covers like a baby. But Blake wasn’t around, so Chris would have to do.

After a couple minutes I couldn’t stand it anymore. I got up and crossed the room, my eyes searching every dark corner as I went, certain there was something creeping in the shadows. The bathroom door was still shut, and when I got close I thought I heard a gasp or groan or something. Whatever it was, it sent my heart into overdrive. As if there was a demon-possessed kid in there with Chris.

A few seconds later the sound of running water penetrated the door. When it finally flew open, I was less than six inches from the door and Chris almost slammed right into me. He stumbled back and let out a scream that sounded a little bit like a ten-year-old girl.

“Damn. You scared the shit out of me!” he said, grabbing his chest like he was on the verge of a heart attack.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling like a total idiot. “But you were taking too long and the house was too dark.”

Chris’s eyes narrowed on my face, and he frowned down at me. “How long have you been standing out here?”

“Just a couple minutes.”

He exhaled and let out a little chuckle that made him sound like he was uncomfortable. “Oh, okay.”

Chris shut off the bathroom light and the house was plunged into darkness, making me squeal. I shuffled closer until my body was practically pressed up against his. His skin was moist and warm, and he smelled nice. A spicy, manly smell that made my face flush. The movie may have scared me, but being pressed up against Chris the whole time hadn’t been uncomfortable or awkward. Which was a little weird.

He pulled his phone out and pressed the button, lighting up the area around us, and I looked down to check the time. It was after midnight.

Chris looked up, and I couldn’t be sure since it was so dark, but I swear his gaze paused on my breasts for just a second. “You ready for bed? It’s late.”

“Yeah,” I said, stifling a yawn as I turned for the stairs. “You’re going to have one hell of a night on my floor.”

Chris stopped walking behind me. “What?”

“We made a deal.” I didn’t even pause, and he was still standing on the first floor when I was halfway up. “You promised you’d sleep on my floor if I was scared. Guess what? I’m terrified.”

Chris groaned but followed me. Thank God. There was no way I would make it through the night by myself.

Something creaked in the hallway and I bolted upright. “What was that?”

Chris groaned from the floor. “You are never allowed to watch a scary movie again.”

“I told you I couldn’t take it!” I tossed my pillow at him, but immediately regretted it.

“Thanks,” he said.

I heard him moving around in the darkness, and could picture him snuggling into my pillow. He inhaled, and for some strange reason the image of him pressing his nose to my pillow flashed through my head. Which was dumb. Like he cared how I smelled.

I crawled across the bed until I was at the edge. “Give my pillow back.”

“No way. I’m down here on your hard floor because you’re a coward. The least you can do is give me your pillow.”

“Chris,” I hissed, scooting closer and reaching for him through the darkness. “I’m not going to be able to sleep without my pillow! I’ll be uncomfortable.”

“I’m lying on your hard floor.”

He had a point. “I’m sorry. Is it bad?”

“No worse than having to listen to you whimpering at every little sound.”

“I’m scared.” My voice had taken on a whiny note I wasn’t used to. And he was right. Every sound sent my heart into near cardiac arrest. At this rate, neither one of us was going to get any sleep.

Unless . . .

“You could come up here with me,” I whispered. “It’s only a full-size bed, so it will be a tight fit, but it would be better than the floor. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep if you’re here.”

For a second there was no response, and my face flushed. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Was I overstepping some line? Then the floor creaked, and I could just make out his form in the darkness as he climbed to his feet.

“You think I can save you from demons?” he said, his voice muffled by a yawn. “Sorry to disappoint, but I flunked Exorcism 101 last semester.”

“Shut up,” I said, scooting over so he could climb into my bed.

Chris chuckled, then my pillow slammed into my face. “Here.”

“Thanks,” I said, already feeling better as I shoved it under my head where it belonged.

The bed dipped as Chris climbed in and snuggled under the covers with me, his body heat warming the bed in a nice way. I’d always loved having a man next to me in bed, which was probably why I’d jumped in the sack with the boxer so fast.

The second he was settled in I scooted closer, hoping to calm my pounding heart so I could get a little rest. He shifted and his hand brushed against my upper thigh, sending little flashes of heat through my body.

Chris groaned. “Are you wearing pants?”

“I never wear pants to bed,” I said, wiggling closer to him. He wore pajama pants but no shirt, and his skin felt nice and toasty against mine. It also sent little tingles through my body that were practically orgasmic.

“Shit, Bette.”

Chris scooted back until our bodies weren’t touching, but he was warm and I was scared and I didn’t want him moving away. I scooted closer to him once again, pressing my back against his chest. His body was firm and strong, yet soft at the same time, and it felt amazing.

“Don’t you dare move away again,” I said, wiggling my butt closer to him. “You promised to protect me and you will.”

Chris groaned again, but he didn’t argue and he didn’t move away. His breathing was thick and heavy, and every time he exhaled it blew my hair forward, tickling my face. I shifted, hoping the new position would stop it from happening, and my thigh brushed against his crotch. I froze and my stomach jumped excitedly. Chris was hard, and pressed right up against me. A flush moved through my body, starting at my face and working its way down. Settling between my legs.

“Chris?” I whispered.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

“What . . . Are you . . .” I couldn’t get the words out, but it didn’t matter. I knew he was turned on and he knew what I was asking.

“You’re the one who keeps wiggling your ass against my dick,” he said, his voice thick and his tone strained. “What the hell did you think was going to happen?”

I swallowed and closed my eyes, trying not to acknowledge the desire swirling through me. Trying not to think about being pressed up against my roommate. Trying not imagine what could happen or how nice it would be.

“I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest,” I whispered, keeping my eyes closed.

Chris didn’t say anything.

After a few seconds I opened my eyes and stared up at the dark ceiling. My heart thumped loudly in my ears, driving me wild, and every time Chris moved his warm skin brushed against mine, driving my body into a frenzy unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I couldn’t decide what to do. Move away from him? That would be the smart thing to do. Being pressed up against Chris like this was bad news. Nothing good could come of it.

Still, I couldn’t help thinking about the other option. The one that would involve me turning to face him, pressing my lips and body against his. Would he kiss me back? I wasn’t totally sure. I’d seen Chris staring at my breasts more times than I could count, but I’d never thought much about it. He was a guy and I had boobs. It made perfect sense that he’d look, and it didn’t mean anything. Plus, he was still hung up on Annie and I was dating Blake.

I shifted my body anyway, causing my hip to rub against him again. Heat pooled between my thighs, and when he inhaled, my breath caught in my throat. He didn’t move away. Did that mean he wanted me? Did I want him?

After a few more seconds of tense silence I tried to force my body to move, but it wouldn’t obey. There was only one thing to do . . .

“Chris . . .” I whispered again, unable to ignore the heat between us.

He let out a deep sigh. “Yeah.”

I twisted to face him, and his whole body stiffened next to mine. He sucked in a deep breath, but still he didn’t move away. My body seemed to have a mind of its own, because without even thinking about it I found my fingers trailing slowly up Chris’s arm to his face, then over his lips. They were soft against my skin. Warm. Fire ignited inside me and all I could think about was how amazing they would feel on mine.

I scooted closer to Chris, and his lips met me halfway, closing over mine. They were firm and hot, and just being near him made my body feel like it was going to burst into flames. His hand moved up my bare thigh and over my hip, then across my stomach and up. When he cupped my breast, I gasped against his lips, and Chris took the opportunity to push his tongue into my mouth. His tongue swept over mine and his mouth became more insistent. Then he rolled me onto my back, settling between my legs. His hard length pressed against my sensitive core, making me tremble. Chris’s hand massaged my breast and his lips moved faster. He rubbed against me and I let out a gasp as shivers of pleasure shot through my body.

I’d never been so hot in my life.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you,” Chris said against my mouth. “Since the first moment I saw you.”

His hand moved away from my breast and down my stomach, his fingers tracing the waistband of my lace panties. My heart was pounding, and even though I’d promised myself I’d be smarter about sex, I didn’t want him to stop.

“Touch me,” I said, closing my eyes as his fingers dipped between my legs, giving me what I wanted.

“Bette,” Chris whispered, his voice low and husky.

“Yes,” I cried, twisting against my mattress, trying to get him to touch me in the right place. My body throbbed, begging for more.

“Bette.”

Hands shook me, and suddenly Chris wasn’t on top of me anymore. The world I’d been in faded away and a new one came into focus. I opened my eyes, searching the dark room only to find Chris next to me, shaking me awake as tremors of pleasure rocked through me.

If he wasn’t touching me, who was?

Horror hit me like a slap across the face. It was my hand between my legs. Inside my underwear . . .

“Shit!” I screamed, pulling my hand away and jerking the sheet up to my chin. “Holy shit!”

“You were having a bad dream,” Chris said, leaning closer. So close his body heat warmed me until I flushed from head to toe. “You were moaning and thrashing around. It woke me up.”

My face burned with shame and my heart pounded. Thank God it was dark, because there was no way in hell I’d be able to face him right now. I was embarrassed almost beyond rational thought, but one fact penetrated the haze of shame and lust clouding my brain, making me feel almost better. He didn’t know I’d had a sex dream about him, or that I was touching myself when he woke me. And I couldn’t let him find out.

“Yeah,” I said, swallowing. Trying to keep my voice even. “I was having a bad dream.”

Chris scooted closer, and my body got so hot I almost pulled the sheet away to let cool air in. He smelled so good. A fresh, sharp scent that made me want to curl up against his chest and breathe him in. And his body was so firm. Muscular and strong. I could still remember how it felt to have him on top of me in my dream. It had seemed so real.

His hand brushed down the side of my face, and I had to fight the urge to move closer. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

No, I want to act it out . . .

“I-I don’t remember exactly,” I lied.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, I’ll be here.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him.

It was meant to be a sweet gesture, but all it did was make him even sexier in my eyes. The way his muscled arms held me, and the way he ran his hand down my arm in a comforting way . . .

Holy shit! I thought Chris was hot.

When the hell did that happen?

When I woke up alone the next morning, I let out a sigh of relief. I needed time to clear my head before I faced Chris. Luckily, there hadn’t been any more sex dreams, but the one I did have was still so vivid in my mind that it made my body flush with desire just thinking about it. It had felt so real. In fact, when I thought back to the night before, I wasn’t sure which part had been real and which part had been just a dream. Did I ask Chris to climb into bed with me, or did he get in after my bad dream? I wasn’t even sure about that!

“What the hell did I do?” I groaned, pulling my pillow over my face.

An even better question: How the hell was I going to face him?

My phone let out a little ding that forced me to pull my pillow away from my face. I rolled onto my stomach and grabbed it off the nightstand, but there weren’t any new text messages.

“That’s weird.”

Another ding sounded, and now that the pillow wasn’t over my head I realized it was coming from the across the room. I rolled out of bed and shivered when my bare feet hit the chilly floor. The blanket Chris had curled up on last night was still spread out across the floor, and when I kicked it aside I found his phone.

The text box that had popped up was from someone named Jess.

Jess? Who was Jess?

Jess: We still on for today at 11?

I’d never heard Chris mention anyone named Jess before. Was Jess a girl? Were they dating? I hadn’t thought he was dating anyone. He was still hung up on Annie, as far as I could tell, so I really couldn’t see him going on a date at this point. But it sure sounded like a date. Chris worked a lot of nights, so it made sense that he’d meet up with someone during the day, but it was still weird.

It also wasn’t any of my business. First of all, I was dating Blake. Second, Chris and I were friends. No matter what my dreams thought, I wasn’t attracted to him. He needed to get over Annie and move on, so if he was dating this Jess, it was a good thing. It was.

It was already after ten o’clock, which meant that if Chris was going to meet this girl, I needed to remind him.

I grabbed my shorts off the floor and pulled them on as I headed into the hall. Chris’s door was wide open and the room was empty, but the bathroom door was closed and I could hear the water running in the sink. He was probably getting ready.

I tapped my knuckles on the bathroom door and practically shoved my face against the wood. “Chris, you left your phone in my room and you got a text!”

The water turned off, and a few seconds later he opened the door. Thankfully, he was dressed. After my dream I wasn’t sure if I would be able to handle even partial nudity at this point.

“Hey, thanks,” Chris said, smiling hesitantly.

Our fingers brushed when he took the phone from me, causing heat to move up my arm to my cheeks. His eyes weren’t focused on my face, so I doubt he saw it, but when I realized where he was looking, my entire body flushed again. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes moved over my breasts. I hadn’t put on a bra, which had never seemed like an issue before, but after the dream I’d had about him, I felt naked under his gaze. And damn if I didn’t like the feeling.

“Who’s Jess?” I blurted out, then had the urge to slap myself on the forehead.

Chris pulled his gaze away from my breasts, but I didn’t feel any less naked now that he was looking me in the eye. If anything, I felt even more bared to him.

“A friend,” he said flatly.

“Her text was on the screen when I found your phone. Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be nosy. Are you dating her?”

Chris’s eyebrows shot up, and the corner of his mouth twitched. It was adorable. “Thought you weren’t being nosy?”

“Call me curious.” I did my best to sound like the old me—the one who didn’t think Chris was hot—but it was hard.

“We’re just getting together to talk. She dated Ryan last year and she wanted to talk to me about the whole thing. From what I’ve heard, they were still dating when Ryan and Annie slept together the first time. I thought if nothing else we could bitch about our broken hearts.”

So he was still hung up on Annie. Why that filled me with disappointment, I didn’t know. But it did.

“Sounds fun,” I said, turning to head back to my room. “I need to get ready for the day too. I have a few errands to run this afternoon, then I’m going to meet Blake. Reed is playing and I want to get some pictures.” I paused in the doorway and turned to face him. “You’re going to come, right? Maybe you could bring Jess? It could be fun.”

Chris grinned and shrugged, and something in my stomach clenched. What the hell was going on? “Maybe. I’ll be there at least.”

“Sounds good.” I started to walk away, but only made it two steps. “Thanks for staying with me last night. I’m not sure I would have slept otherwise.”

Just talking about it sent a shiver through my body, but I wanted to act as normal around him as possible. If I started acting weird, things would get awkward. I didn’t want that happening because I actually liked hanging out with Chris. He was fun.

Chris chuckled and shook his head, and some of my discomfort slipped away. “Well, I did owe you since it was my idea to watch the stupid movie in the first place.”

“True,” I said, laughing to myself as I went back into my room.

Yeah, I liked Chris. It had been a long time since I’d had someone I could talk to so openly. Not since my high school best friend, whom I hardly ever spoke to now, and I didn’t want to screw that up by being an idiot.

Chapter Thirteen

Chris

Jess was reading on a bench at Waterfront Park when I showed up. It was a hot day, and the tourists were taking full advantage of the Pineapple Fountain. Kids splashed through the water as parents stood nearby, watching to make sure none of them drowned. In the distance, the bright sun reflected off the water.

Jess looked up when I stopped in front of her, and she threw a big smile my way. “Hey! I’m glad you decided to meet me.” She shut her book and patted the seat next to her. “Sit down. It’s a gorgeous day. I’m so glad we didn’t meet at Starbucks.”

“Yeah. It’s nice for June. Not too humid,” I said when I sat down, trying to act like my stomach wasn’t trying to hang itself.

Jess grinned at me, her blue eyes sparkling behind her glasses. They’d slid down just a bit, and she pushed them up with her middle finger.

“I know!” Jess said, her smile growing bigger. “I love Charleston, but I’m from Ohio, so the humidity is tough for me to get used to.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Why didn’t you go home for the summer?” I asked.

She wouldn’t stop smiling, and just like the other day I found myself wondering how Ryan had ever dated this girl. She didn’t seem like his type at all, and the realization that Annie did made an uneasy knot form in my stomach.

“I got a job.” Jess shrugged and twisted on the bench, pulling one leg up and tucking it under her. “I got lucky and nailed a really good internship, so it made sense to stay. Plus, I like Charleston. I’m not sure I’ll ever want to go back to Ohio after this.”

I nodded and we lapsed into silence. Her blue eyes were sharp behind her frames, and it made me squirm when she looked me over. She acted like she was waiting for me to say something.

“So . . .” I shifted, having a difficult time looking her in the eye. “How have you been holding up?”

Jess pressed her lips together and her eyes narrowed even more. “I’m good.”

Okay . . . she acted like nothing should be bugging her, which was strange. “I was asking about the break-up. You and Ryan. He cheated on you, didn’t he?”

Jess’s mouth dropped open and this time when she shook her head, her dark hair swished back and forth. “Oh, shit! No. He didn’t cheat on me at all. I mean, we were never serious to begin with, but I also knew about him and Annie.”

My entire body turned to steel. “You knew?”

“Well, yeah. Ryan and I were dating and things were just off. I mean, I could tell they were. Then one day he told me they had slept together. He felt horrible since we were still kind of seeing each other, but it was no big deal.” I stiffened even more and Jess frowned. “He felt horrible because of you, too. He still does. But Chris, he’s in love with her. I mean, you should see them together. They are so happy.”

I scooted back and Jess sighed, but I wasn’t going to let her tell me any more about how happy Ryan and Annie were. It was bullshit. Total and complete bullshit, and I didn’t care. I didn’t care if they were the happiest couple in the world and they were meant to be together, because Ryan had been my best friend and he’d totally screwed me over.

“This was a waste of time.” My whole body was shaking when I got to my feet, and when my hair fell across my forehead, I swiped my hand through it so hard I was surprised it didn’t rip out at the roots. “I’m glad you’re okay with all this, but I’m not. I am not fucking okay.”

I stalked away, ignoring the glares from nearby families. My heart throbbed like it was on the verge of exploding, so I could say whatever the hell I wanted and they were just going to have to deal with it. It was a free country, after all.

“Chris!” Jess called after me.

I started jogging.

Blake was just coming out of the bar when I walked up later that day. I’d spent hours wandering around the city, then finally ended up back home only to find it empty. Where Bette and Blake had spent the day, I didn’t want to know. Since he had never spent the night with Bette, I didn’t really know what was going on between them, but suddenly the thought of them being alone together made me uncomfortable.

“Hey, man,” he said, slapping me on the arm.

“You heading out?” I asked, trying to sound cool with him, even though I definitely was not, for some crazy reason.

“Yeah. My parents are flying in for the weekend and I have to go pick them up. Their plane gets in right before midnight. Can you believe it? Sucks.”

“Oh, right. That sounds like fun.”

Blake chuckled and shook his head. “Nope, not at all, but it’s only for a couple days. I wanted to introduce Bette to them, but she said no. Said to wait since they’re visiting again in July.”

“Well, at least she thinks you’ll still be together then.”

Blake grunted and shoved his hands in his pockets. “That’s something, at least.” He glanced over his shoulder like he was afraid someone was listening, then leaned closer. “You know she’s making me wait?”

“Wait?” I shook my head because I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

“Yeah, man. Wait. My balls haven’t been this blue since I was sixteen and I had my first real girlfriend. Damn, that was a long time ago. She’s worth it, but holy shit, I wish she’d hurry up.”

So they hadn’t . . . Shit, why did that make me so damn happy?

“Sucks, man,” I said, trying to keep the joy pushing at my insides out of my voice.

“Sure does.” He let out a big sigh, almost like he was trying to blow out all the sexual frustration. “Got to go. You going to keep an eye on her for me?”

Last night popped into my head and I suddenly remembered how turned on I’d been watching that movie with Bette. How hot she had looked in those little shorts, and how amazing her body had felt pressed up against mine. Then I’d slept in her bed with my arms wrapped around her warm body. The dreams I’d had . . . they’d make a porn star blush. Damn if I didn’t feel like an asshole right now.

“Yeah, sure.” I ran my hand through my hair, trying not to feel like a total piece of shit. Here Blake was asking me to keep an eye on his girlfriend when less than twenty-four hours earlier I’d jerked off while thinking all kinds of dirty things about her. What a douche.

How was I any better than Ryan?

“Okay, then,” Blake said, slapping me on the arm again. “I’ll see you later.”

He headed down the street, and I watched him go, feeling a little bit like a piece of gum that was stuck on the bottom of someone’s shoe. After the day I’d had, I really needed a drink.

The bar was dark when I walked in, but already I could hear Reed playing in the back. It was crowded, but I’d been around enough for Steve, the bartender, to recognize me when I shoved my way through the crowd.

I caught his eye and Steve headed my way, ignoring the calls from other patrons. “Guinness?” he called over the noise from the music and drunk college kids.

“You got it!”

I leaned against the bar while he got my beer, and my eyes landed on a girl standing next to me. She smiled, and I returned it, looking her over. She was cute. Short and slim, caramel colored hair that went to her shoulders. Her top was dangerously low-cut, balancing on a pair of breasts that didn’t hold a candle to Bette’s.

What the hell? When did I start comparing other girls’ tits to Bette’s?

“Hey!” she called, moving closer. “You alone?”

I shook my head and did my best to stop myself from comparing every other inch of this girl to my roommate. “Nope. Here with a friend.”

She pouted, but it wasn’t sexy like it was when Bette did it. Not nearly as sexy.

Shit! Get a hold of yourself, Chris.

Steve came back and slid my beer across the counter, his eyes landing on the girl at my side. “You want something?”

The girl looked my way, batting her eyes, but I just shook my head and turned to face the bartender. “Bette open a tab?”

“She did.”

“Okay, put mine on there and I’ll settle with her. Thanks.”

The girl glared at me as I walked away, but I didn’t give a shit. When I started comparing everything she did to my roommate—my roommate who was dating someone else—it was time to walk away. Maybe get a little drunk.

I headed to the other side of the bar where Reed was busy singing into the mic. His usual group was gathered around a table just in front of the stage, chatting and drinking as they watched him perform. There was a girl at the table I’d never seen before, and with the way she stared at Reed, it was easy to tell who she was here for. I couldn’t help wondering if Reed knew it and felt the same way, though. He’d never really struck me as a one-woman kind of guy.

A blond chick waved from a couple tables over. She was sitting with two other girls who I was sure I had never laid eyes on, but there was something about the blonde’s smile that was very familiar. Then it hit me. Sara. The chick with big blue eyes who looked like she’d stepped out of a comic book. I hadn’t seen her since my first night at the bar, but I did remember Bette telling me how cozy the two of us had gotten. That, of course, was after I’d downed way more alcohol than any one human should ever consume.

I went over to the table despite the fact that I wasn’t thrilled to see her. Who knew what kind of expectations she was going to have after our last encounter.

“Hey!” she called over the music. “I haven’t seen you in a while. I thought for sure you’d call me after last time.”

“Didn’t have your phone number,” I said, then cringed. That sounded too much like a promise to call her if I did get her number.

Sara rolled her eyes and the friend on her right—who was wearing so much makeup that she kind of reminded me of a drag queen—giggled.

“I put it in your phone that night, silly.”

“Sorry, I was kind of out of it, in case you don’t remember,” I said, taking a drink.

I scanned the room, even though Sara was still talking—saying something about what a good dancer I was, which was total bullshit—and when my gaze landed on Bette I smiled. She was standing next to the stage wearing a pair of white shorts that showcased her tan legs, and wedge heels that had to be four inches high. When she saw me, she waved, but of course my eyes were glued to her tits. They bounced up and down with each move of her arm, and even though her strapless top wasn’t as low-cut as some of the other shirts she owned, the way her tits jiggled still made my head spin. And my dick jump.

“Hey, I need to go talk to my roommate,” I said, totally interrupting Sara.

“Save me a dance?” she asked in a high voice that sounded like it was stuck halfway between desperation and optimism.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, heading Bette’s way even though I knew it was a very bad idea. “We’ll see.”

Sara said something else, but the room was way too loud for me to catch it.

“Hey!” Bette called when I stopped in front of her. She stood on the tips of her toes and put her lips right against my ear. “I’m an idiot. I wore these ridiculous shoes, but I want to stand on the stool and get some more pictures of Reed. He convinced his new label to give me a shot, and if they like my work they’re going to use it on his album! You have to help me out.”

“Wow, that’s awesome,” I said, turning my face toward her ear. “What do you need?”

“Just make sure I don’t fall!” she called back.

I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about until she started to climb up on a stool. My heart jumped and of course I reached out to brace her, which meant my hands ended up on her ass. Her very firm, very round ass. My dick was suddenly at full attention, and I was standing in the middle of a bar where I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Bette grinned down at me, then got to work. I considered letting go and just keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn’t fall off, but every time she moved, the whole chair wobbled. I tightened my grip on her ass, and her eyes darted down. It was dark as hell in that bar, but I swear she looked excited by the contact.

But she was dating Blake, so I had to be imagining things.

It seemed to take forever for her to finish getting the shots she wanted, but it was only the length of one song. Reed played the last chord and the crowd cheered, and Bette lowered herself down. The chair she was standing on was not secure, so I didn’t move my hands. Instead, they moved over her ass to hips, then over her back. She twisted my way as the stool shifted under her, and one of those perfect tits I’d been staring at for so long ended up in the palm of my hand. My dick jerked and the urge to squeeze it was so strong, but I pulled back before I made a total ass of myself.

“Shit,” I said. “Sorry about that.”

Bette wouldn’t meet my eyes, but even in the dark bar I could see how red her cheeks were. “It’s okay. It was an accident.”

Best damn accident of my life.

Reed walked up at that moment, breaking up the awkwardness. He grinned at Bette. “You get all the shots you needed?”

“I think so. I’ll have to go home and work on it with my editing equipment, but it looks like I got some good ones.” She returned his smile, and even though I didn’t have a claim over her and I knew they were nothing but friends, something that felt a hell of a lot like jealousy squeezed my insides. “Thanks for getting me this opportunity, Reed.”

“Listen, I think you’re great and I’m glad to do it for you, but the final call isn’t up to me. I want you to know that.”

Bette put her hand on his arm and I squeezed my hands into fists. “I know, don’t worry,” she told him. “I’m just glad to get the chance.”

Reed let out a deep breath. “Good. I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work out. Plus, even if they don’t use the shots, you know I’ll always have them on my website, Bette. We all have to start somewhere. I’m more than happy to help someone else achieve their dreams.”

Bette smiled and threw her arms around Reed, and I almost stepped forward. Son of a bitch, what was wrong with me?

“You are the best!” she said, her red, pouty lips almost touching his ear.

“So you must be Blake,” a feminine voice whispered at my side.

I turned to find the new chick from Reed’s group standing next to me, smiling. “Actually, no. I’m Chris, Bette’s roommate.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she looked back and forth between me and Bette. “Really? I’m shocked. With the way you two were looking at each other . . .” She shrugged like I should know exactly what she was talking about.

I did and I didn’t, but it wasn’t something I could go into. Not with a stranger, and especially not in the middle of a bar with Bette standing right in front of me.

“Well, I’m Hope. Reed’s girlfriend.”

I shot a look toward Reed and Bette, who were in the middle of looking over pictures on her camera, then looked back at Hope. “Girlfriend?”

“It’s kind of new, but I understand the surprise. Reed is . . .” She shrugged again. “Reed. Not exactly the boyfriend type, right? People change. Sometimes, when you meet the right person, everything just falls into place. You know?”

I thought of Annie, then glanced toward Bette again. I didn’t have a clue what Hope was talking about. “Not really.”

“If it’s meant to work out, it will. If not, one day you’ll look back and thank God it didn’t happen, because you’ll be with someone even better.”

I laughed, then took a sip of my beer. Was that how I’d feel about Annie soon? And would Bette have anything to do with it? A month ago I would have said hell, no, but after the last twenty-four hours . . . I couldn’t stop thinking about my roommate.

I was in some big fucking trouble.

Bette and I headed home after last call, walking side by side down the dark streets of Charleston. Of course, they weren’t empty. Other people were making their way home, and the roads were clogged with taxis until we got into the more residential area, which was only five blocks away.

“So I guess Blake’s going to be occupied with his parents all weekend,” I said right before we turned onto our street. “You don’t want to meet them?”

She snorted and shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to meet them, it’s just that I’m afraid meeting them will put my relationship with Blake in a whole new place, and I’m just not there yet. Not that he really understands that.”

Which was why they weren’t having sex. Made sense with what I knew of Bette. After the last asshole she dated, I could understand her hesitation.

“If you’re not there, you’re not there. Don’t worry about what he thinks.”

She smiled and nudged me with her elbow as we walked. “Who are you talking to? Of course I don’t care.”

“Whatever.” I chuckled and shook my head. “This might actually be the perfect time to get the bathroom project of yours started. I got all the tools from my dad and you ordered the tile you wanted, right?”

She nodded so enthusiastically that her hair bounced around her face. “I did.”

“Then let’s do it. We can start the demo tomorrow. Better to get it done before it gets too hot anyway.” The days were already hot and sticky, despite the fact that it was early June, but it was only going to get worse. Remodeling a bathroom in August didn’t sound like fun to me—even if it was inside in the air conditioning.

“I’m game if you are,” Bette said.

“Then it’s settled.”

Chapter Fourteen

Bette

The room became more and more filled with dust every time Chris slammed the sledgehammer against the tile wall, making me very thankful for the mask and goggles I was wearing. I glanced over my shoulder as another crack filled the room and more of the peach tile hit the floor. Just seeing the dusty mess covering my beautiful hardwood floors made me anxious. We’d draped tarps over the furniture and TV, and I’d even removed my pictures and taken them upstairs so they didn’t get covered in dust, but there was very little we could do about keeping the mess in the bathroom. The space was just too small to contain it all.

Chris put the sledgehammer down and ran his hand across his sweaty forehead. “Let’s get some of this up and out of the way, then I’ll do a little more.”

“Sounds good,” I said, scurrying to scoop the tiles up off the floor.

We worked together, picking up handfuls of broken peach tile and dumping them into the waiting trash bag. We’d been at it for a couple hours now and the progress was remarkable. Chris had turned the water off to the bathroom first, then removed the old toilet and sink—which were now sitting in my backyard, reminding me of a trailer park. Once we’d gotten those things out of the way, he’d gone to work on the walls. One whole wall was already demoed, with another halfway done.

“I feel kind of useless,” I said, closing the trash bag once we’d gotten up as much of the debris as we could.

“Why is that?” Chris asked.

He pulled his goggles and mask off, setting them aside, and I stepped back when he pulled his shirt over his head. He used it to wipe his dirty face. Suddenly, the house felt like it was twenty degrees warmer.

“Um . . . because you’re doing all the work,” I stammered, trying not to stare at his biceps. Trying not to think of that dream. Damn, that had been a good dream.

Chris grinned and tossed his shirt to the ground. “Don’t be silly. You make the room look pretty.”

A choked laugh forced its way out of me, but Chris didn’t seem to notice how strained it was or how hot my face got. He put his safety gear back on and went to work, slamming the sledgehammer into the wall. Tile rained down on the floor and dust puffed up around us, but all I could focus on were the muscles in his back and arms and the way they flexed and moved when he swung the sledgehammer. His tan skin glistened with beads of sweat, and dust particles clung to him like he had some kind of magnetic pull. He had me in so much of a trance that I didn’t even care how messy my living room had gotten.

Chris paused again after he’d ripped out the second wall. This time I had to squeeze my way into the small space so I could help him pick up the tile, meaning I was so close to him that every time he scooped a handful of trash into the bag, his moist skin brushed against my arm. The air in the room was stifling, but I knew it had more to do with Chris’s nearness than anything else.

That’s how the day went. Chris destroyed the room and I swooped in to help him clean up. I made him lunch and dinner, and brought him drinks when he got too hot. I ran and got tools for him when he needed them too. Basically, I was his work assistant, which was fine with me. We got to talk and spend the day together—always a nice thing—and I was getting my new bathroom at a fraction of the price. Just paying someone to demo the space would have cost me a fortune, and Chris was willing to do it for nothing. I was pretty sure I’d hit the roommate jackpot when he walked through my front door.

By the time I crawled into bed that night I was beat, so I could only imagine how exhausted Chris must have been. But the next morning he was already working on the bathroom when I came down the stairs.

Over the next four days, things progressed. Chris and I crowded together in the little bathroom, only stopping to eat or get a drink, or when one of us had other obligations. I was taking a couple summer photography classes, and Chris was working more hours now than he had during the semester. But despite the interruptions, we were making great progress on the project, and by the time Blake’s parents left Charleston, the little bathroom was almost halfway done.

“Hey,” Blake said when I opened the door for him. I stood on my toes to give him a kiss, but before my lips got close to his he’d wrapped me in a hug. “I missed you.”

“Thanks.” The word slipped out before I could stop myself, and I immediately regretted it when Blake’s body stiffened against mine. That probably wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for, but if I’d said I missed him I would have been lying. There had just been too much going on for me to miss him.

When he pulled away, he was frowning down at me. “You didn’t miss me?”

“I was way too busy to miss you,” I said, trying to laugh it off. It wasn’t easy, not with the hurt expression on his face.

Blake inhaled slowly and his eyes moved over the room. “What kept you so busy?”

“Well,” I said, pulling him into the room, “come in and I’ll show you!”

Blake followed me, but he was dragging his feet, and I could tell that he was still hurt. I felt bad, and briefly wondered if I should have lied and told him I missed him. It wasn’t like I wasn’t happy to see him, it was just that the past few days had gone by so fast I hadn’t even had five free minutes to think about how Blake wasn’t around.

The bathroom door was closed when we stopped in front of it. I shoved it open swept my arm toward the little room. “Ta da!”

Blake’s eyes got huge and his face broke out into a wide grin. “Wow,” he said, taking a step inside. “You hired a contractor?”

“No, that’s the great part. Chris knows how to do all this stuff, so we did it together.”

Blake turned back toward me and the smile melted off his face. “You and Chris did this?”

“Yeah, what’s the big deal?” That jealous look was back in his eyes, immediately putting me on the defensive. He couldn’t seriously be jealous about this, could he? “What’s wrong?”

Blake swiped his hand through his hair and let out a deep breath. “It’s always you and Chris.”

“Blake, I wasn’t intentionally excluding you or anything. You were with your parents.”

“Exactly!” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “I was with my parents and I wanted you to be there too, but you said no. Then you spent that whole time with Chris, working on your house. I’m not stupid, Bette, you two obviously planned this. It wasn’t like you woke up the other morning and suddenly decided to remodel your bathroom, which means you two discussed it and you never once asked me if I could lend a hand.”

“Chris’s dad owns a company! It made sense for me to ask him.”

“But you never asked me if I knew how to do any of this stuff, did you? Did you know that my dad redid our whole kitchen when I was in high school and that I helped him?”

I shook my head, suddenly feeling like a huge bitch. He was right. It had never occurred to me that Blake would know how to do this kind of stuff. “No, you never told me that.”

“Well, you never asked either.” Blake blew out a mouthful of air.

“I’m sorry,” I said, taking a step toward him. “I am. It just came up one day, but you’re right. You’re my boyfriend, I should have asked you first.” I took his hand and smiled up at him, hoping to smooth things over. “Next time I need something done around the house, I’ll ask you.”

Blake nodded and allowed me to pull him in for a hug. “I just want to know that you think about me when you need something. I feel like such an outsider sometimes.”

“I don’t want you to feel like an outsider, because you’re not.”

Blake nodded but he didn’t really act like he believed me. On top of that, I didn’t know if I believed me either. I liked Blake and I was definitely attracted to him, but for me our relationship hadn’t progressed any further than that. Still, I wasn’t quite ready to call it quits. There were a lot of things about him that I liked. He was fun and sweet and he liked me, no questions asked. It was just going to take time.

The three of us finished the bathroom together, which ended up being more work than the actual project itself. When it had been just Chris and me, things had flowed. He’d done most of the work, looking to me when he needed a little help. But with Blake there, the atmosphere was tense.

From the get-go I could tell that Blake didn’t know nearly as much about remodeling as Chris did, but of course his manly pride wouldn’t quite let him admit that. At every turn Blake would question the decisions Chris made or point out ways to make the job easier. Which usually meant cutting corners, something Chris wasn’t willing to do. His perfectionist personality really came out when he was working.

Despite some head butting between the guys, we managed to get it done by Friday evening, giving us the perfect reason to hit the bar.

As usual, we went on foot. Blake had his arm hooked around my waist, and Chris walked on the other side of me. It was a little after ten, so already dark, and of course the sidewalks were crowded.

“You remember my friend Sara?” I asked Chris as Blake steered me past a couple making out right in the middle of the sidewalk.

“The chick with the big eyes?”

Blake belted out a laugh. “Is that code?”

I rolled my eyes, but laughed anyway. “No, actually it isn’t. Although she does have some good size tatas too.”

“She does?” Chris asked, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes like he was trying to remember what her rack looked like.

“You didn’t notice?” I couldn’t help laughing. Apparently Chris wasn’t very observant, because Sara’s boobs were so big I sometimes wondered how she didn’t fall over. And they were real too: I’d asked her.

“I just noticed how big her eyes were,” Chris said. “She reminded me of a cartoon character.”

Sara’s big blue eyes popped into my head and I let out a laugh that was almost a snort, earning me a chuckle from Chris. “I never thought of it before, but I can see it now. Funny.”

“Dude,” Blake said, shaking his head sadly. “If you’re checking out a chick’s eyes instead of her tits, we have a lot more work to do than I thought.”

“I don’t need any work,” Chris protested.

“You need tons of work,” Blake said, drawing out the word. “How long has it been since you got laid?”

“Shut up, Blake. Chris is fine.” I elbowed him in the ribs, but he didn’t look very apologetic. “Anyway, Sara keeps asking about you, so I invited her tonight.”

Chris groaned. “I do not want to be set up.”

“How about just sex?” Blake chimed in. “We could all use a little bit of that.” He shot me a very pointed look.

Chris didn’t say anything and neither did I. There was really nothing I could say in reply to that.

The bar was so crowded we had to push our way through. Reed wasn’t playing—he was in Atlanta working on his new album—and the new group wasn’t nearly as good. Not that it mattered. After turning my little bathroom from a peach nightmare into a modern masterpiece I was ready to celebrate.

“I’m going to find Sara while you guys order drinks!” I called over the noise, then pushed my way through the crowd in search of my friend.

We weren’t really close, but Sara was fun to hang out with from time to time. She was a huge fan of Reed, which was how we’d bonded to begin with. I couldn’t really see her with Chris, but I figured anything I could do to get his mind off Annie would be worth it. He needed to forget that girl and get his life moving forward again.

“Bette!”

I heard my name over the buzz of the music and spun around to find Sara bouncing up and down on her chair, waving me over. Her boobs bounced with every move she made and I couldn’t help laughing. How the hell had Chris not noticed those? I mean, I’d seen him check mine out enough to know that he was a boob man, so the fact that he hadn’t looked at Sara’s was just strange.

“Hey,” I said when I walked up next to her table.

There were four other people with her, all of whom I recognized from other nights at the bar, and they all nodded their hellos while Sara grabbed my arm. “Is he here?”

Her eyes got so huge they looked like they took up half her face. She did look like a cartoon character.

“He’s at the bar,” I said.

“Woohoo! If we hook up, I will be in your debt forever!” Sara craned her neck, searching the crowd for Chris, but I just rolled my eyes. I did not think Chris would be hooking up with Sara or anyone else tonight.

When the guys showed up with drinks, Blake took his place at my side, but Chris tried to hang back. I wouldn’t let him, though. I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the table.

“You remember Chris, Sara?”

Sara smiled widely at Chris.

“This is my boyfriend, Blake,” I said, introducing him.

Blake shook her hand, smiling sweetly. “You have such big eyes,” he said, shooting a wink at Chris.

“Thanks. They’re my best feature, I think,” Sara said, batting her eyes in an exaggerated way.

Blake chuckled. “Oh, I’d agree with you on that one.”

I elbowed him, but he just laughed harder. When I shot a look Chris’s way, he was chugging his beer, doing everything in his power not to look at Sara.

We stood around talking and drinking, and I did my best to get Chris to loosen up. Blake helped by keeping the beers coming, but I wanted to make sure Chris didn’t get wasted the way he had that other time. He’d been pretty mad at himself after that.

“This band is great!” Sara called, bopping around to the beat of the music, her hair swishing around with her.

“Yeah,” I said, even though I thought they were only okay. The good thing about them was they had a beat you could dance to, which might help Chris break out of his shell a little. “We should dance!”

Sara squealed and nodded enthusiastically, “Great idea! Come on, Chris.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the other couples who were already crowded together. He didn’t look thrilled, but he didn’t resist.

Blake cracked up. “There’s no way, Bette.”

“What?” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

“There is no way Chris will go for that girl.”

“I just thought she might be a nice distraction. She does have big eyes, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, I noticed.”

I scowled at Blake, but he just wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me after Chris and Sara. “Not nearly as nice as yours, though,” he whispered in my ear.

A shiver went down my spine when his lips brushed against my skin, and when he pulled my body against his, I melted at his touch. His body swayed, taking mine with it, and I allowed myself to relax. It was moments like this when I was reminded of exactly why I was dating Blake. There was something about his touch that made me tremble, made me want more. It had been a really long time since I’d wanted someone like this, not since Jeff, to be honest, and I loved the feeling. Loved how he responded to me in the exact same way, with a need that was just barely concealed.

“You drive me crazy. You know that, right?” he said, running his lips down my neck.

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Is it?” He pulled me tighter against him and I could feel exactly how much he wanted me. It warmed my skin until my blood felt like it was going to boil. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like you want me at all.”

“I do,” I said, turning my face toward his, letting his lips cover mine as his hands moved down my back.

“I can’t believe you let me in your room,” Blake said against my skin.

He was in the middle of kissing the top of my breasts, doing everything he could to move my shirt lower. To expose more of me. When I stopped him, it was halfhearted. After the drinks and dancing at the bar, I wanted him more than ever.

Maybe now was the time . . .

His hand moved up my stomach and cupped my breast as he moved his mouth back to mine. I didn’t know how long we’d been going at it, but I had to hand it to him, he’d been on his best behavior. That was one of the things I liked about Blake the most, he respected what I wanted, only complaining a little.

And what guy wouldn’t complain?

He rolled me onto my back and moved his body against mine. I was practically delirious.

“You’re so damn sexy, baby.”

Hearing him call me “baby” brought me screaming back to reality.

I pulled out from under him and scooted across the bed. “Please don’t call me that,” I said, straightening my shirt.

Blake sighed and threw himself back against the mattress, staring at the ceiling. “So I guess that’s a no. Again.”

When I shook my head, the room swayed just a bit. Yup, just as I’d suspected, I’d had a little too much to drink. That would explain my momentary lapse in judgment.

“I’m drunk, Blake. Do you really want me to give in just because I had too much to drink?”

Blake sighed. “No.” He didn’t sound very convincing.

“Okay . . .” I said, crossing my arms. Suddenly I wanted him to leave my room more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.

I hadn’t moved from my spot on the bed when he rolled toward me. “I really don’t. I’m just frustrated. You understand, right?”

The expression in his blue eyes was so sincere I couldn’t help relaxing; plus, I did believe him. He wasn’t yelling at me or storming out, so that must have been a good sign. Right?

Blake took a deep breath and pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Have you decided about next weekend?”

It took me a second to remember what he was talking about. The Fourth of July. His friend was getting married in Hilton Head.

“Crap, Blake. I have this big photography project coming up and I’ve been so busy with work and remodeling the bathroom that I haven’t had much of a chance to work on it. I need to stay here and take some pictures.”

“You can take pictures in Hilton Head.” He ran his fingers up my leg and smiled.

“Normally, yes.” I put my hand over his and returned his smile. I really did want to go with him. It sounded like fun and I’d never been to Hilton Head, plus I wanted to meet some of his friends. “But the pictures have to be of Charleston.”

Blake sighed and scooted closer to me, and I didn’t resist when he kissed me again. “I really wanted you to go with me. I was going to show you off.”

I let out a little giggle when his lips tickled their way down my neck. “Next time, I promise.”

He pulled back and shot me a huge grin. “Which means you’ll meet my parents when they come visit again at the end of July?”

Crap. I had totally backed myself into a corner with that one.

“I don’t know . . .”

He pushed out his lower lip and batted his eyes, reminding me of Sara. He could be so sweet and adorable sometimes. “Please.”

“All right, you big goof!”

Blake laughed and threw his arms around me, tackling me to the bed. “Thank you!” he said as he showered me with kisses.

He was so adorable I couldn’t even regret making the promise.

Chapter Fifteen

Chris

The morning after the bar I had to drag myself downstairs, but I wasn’t hung over. Just exhausted. I felt like I’d barely slept a wink all night long and I wasn’t sure why. We had a good time drinking, and Sara had even turned out to be a lot of fun. She wasn’t my type, but Bette had been right. It was nice to get my mind off things for a little bit.

We’d stayed until final call then made our way back home with all the other partygoers. Bette had been a little more tipsy than usual, although not overly drunk, but I could still tell her judgment had been seriously affected. Blake was all over her the whole walk back and all she’d done was giggle while she let him kiss and touch her. They were making out the second we walked into the house, almost like they’d totally forgotten I was there. Then they went up to Bette’s room. As far as I knew, that had never happened before, and a part of me felt guilty for not stepping in. She hadn’t been acting like herself.

After that I tried to go to bed, but sleep had been impossible. If Blake left, I never heard him, and since I was awake pretty much the whole fucking night, I assumed he’d stayed over. Another first.

When I made my way downstairs I found Bette at the dining room table drinking a cup of coffee. She looked up and smiled, but acted like it hurt a little.

“Morning,” I mumbled.

“Wow,” she said, letting out a low whistle. “You sound like shit. I didn’t think you’d had that much to drink.”

“Didn’t. Had trouble sleeping.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and looked around. “Where’s Blake?”

“He called a cab around four.”

I did the math, trying to figure out what time it had been when we’d stumbled through the front door and if they’d had enough time to actually do it. It seemed like it, but I had no idea why that made my stomach lurch painfully.

“So you let him stay the night,” I said casually, taking a seat at the table across from her.

“Not exactly.” Bette shrugged but didn’t say anything else. “We got back a little after two, so he was here for less than two hours.”

“Good point.”

We lapsed into silence, drinking our coffee as we tried to wake up. Neither one of us were morning people, which was nice. I couldn’t stand people who wanted to have a real conversation first thing in the morning. Drove me nuts.

“What do you have planned for the holiday weekend?” Bette asked out of nowhere.

“Nothing big,” I said with a shrug. “Going home. What about you?”

My parents always had a big cookout and I figured I’d make an appearance. It wasn’t like I had anything else going on.

“There’s this project I have to do for my summer class, so I was thinking of going someplace to take some pictures, but I’m not sure where I want to go. I’ve done a lot of the city, so somewhere rural would be nice. But still historic.”

“A plantation?” I asked, thinking of all the cool places in the area. We’d gone to most of them on field trips when I was growing up.

“That’s a possibility, but I’ve done most of those. I really wanted something new.”

An idea formed in my head, but I hesitated. We were friends, but would asking her be stepping over some line I wasn’t aware of? I didn’t think so. She was dating Blake and they seemed to be in a good place. I’d seen them snuggled together on the couch enough to know that, plus, he’d finally stayed over the night before. Still, though, I didn’t want things to get weird.

Bette frowned, then brushed her hand across her face. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Oh, right . . .” I ran my hand through my hair and chuckled to relieve the tension. “I was thinking about home. My family has an old house right on the Ashley River and I could take you there if you wanted. We’d have to drive your car, but it isn’t that far and I promise you’d have a lot to photograph. So it would be worth it. Plus, my mom and dad have a big barbeque on the Fourth, and we can see plenty of fireworks from their yard. We’d probably want to stay the night since it would be late, but it might be fun.”

“That would be amazing!” Bette said, reaching across the table to take my hand. “I’d love meet your mom and dad. I’m curious to find out who raised the uptight guy I live with.”

I laughed, even though for some reason I had broken out in a sweat and my skin was tingling under her hand. “And I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to meet you too.”

“So Bette tells me you’re heading to Hilton Head for the weekend?” I said to Blake as I waited for him to mix me a couple drinks.

“Yeah, a buddy of mine is getting married. Wish she was coming with me, though.”

I glanced over my shoulder as the hostess walked by, leading a party of six through the restaurant. Right to my section. Damn.

“You’ll have fun,” I muttered, barely paying attention.

“I’d have more fun with her. Plus, she’d get to see the fireworks in Hilton Head.”

“She can see them over the Ashley when she goes home with me.”

“She’s going home with you?” Blake’s voice was strained and way louder than it was a second ago.

I tore my eyes away from the group of people that had just been seated in my section and turned toward Blake. “What?”

“You said Bette was going home with you?”

“Yeah. Why?” I couldn’t figure out what his deal was.

“Like she’s going to meet your parents.”

Oh shit. “Uh, yeah, but that’s not why she’s going. She has this project and my family owns this old house on the Ashley River. It was the perfect timing. That’s all.”

Blake shook his head as he slid the drinks I’d ordered across the bar. “Seems to always be the perfect timing for you two. You swoop in to save her when she has a flat tire, then fix up her bathroom. Now she’s going to meet your family, even though I had to beg her to promise to meet my mom and dad next month.”

I loaded the drinks onto my tray, suddenly desperate to get to the six-top that had just landed in my section. “Yeah. It’s really not a big deal, Blake.” I glanced over my shoulder as I stepped back. “I have to go.”

Blake waved me away as he headed to the other side of the bar.

Great. Not sure what that was all about, but it sounded like Blake had an issue with Bette and me living together. Well, as far as I was concerned, he was just going to have to deal with it, because I didn’t have any intentions of moving out any time soon.

Chapter Sixteen

Bette

“Thanks for inviting me along,” I said, shifting in the passenger seat so I could get a better look at the houses as we drove by. I was glad I’d let Chris drive. There were so many historic homes in this area, and if I were behind the wheel I wouldn’t be able to see them as well.

Even though I was thrilled to meet Chris’s family and see where he grew up, I couldn’t help the little twinge of guilt budding inside me whenever I thought about Blake. He had begged me to meet his mom and dad, and go to the wedding with him this weekend, but I’d brushed him off without so much as a thought. And here I was with Chris—again. I was going to have to make it up to Blake.

“So this is where you grew up? Right here on the Ashley? Amazing.”

“Well, yes and no. The house has been in the family for generations, but my grandparents lived there when I was little. My grandpa died when I was eight, so we moved in with my grandma to help her out, then she died when I was sixteen. She was like a second mom to me.”

Missy’s face popped into my head, and my throat tightened. It had been three years since she died, but I still missed her. Every single day.

I rested my hand on Chris’s leg, and his muscles pulsed under my fingertips. “I’m so sorry. It’s hard to lose someone you were close to.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Like your aunt?”

He knew exactly what I was referring to, which was an amazing feeling. It had been a long time since I’d had a friend I was this close to. Someone who knew what I was thinking before I even said it. Not since high school, really. Most of my friends from those days had moved on. It was part of the reason I never went home. The people I’d grown up with just didn’t get me anymore.

“Yes,” I said, thinking about my aunt. “She and my mom were twins, but as things like that usually go, they were total opposites. My mom stayed in the small town they grew up in while my aunt moved out here. She didn’t have a plan, just up and moved. She worked in a couple bars, even stripped a little, and saved up enough money to buy the house. She was like me, her own person. My mom didn’t always understand me when I was a kid, but my aunt did. She’d see me trying to play the role of perfect daughter and just . . . shake her head. She knew I wasn’t happy, because she’d been there.” I gave his leg a little squeeze. “I never told you how much I appreciate you helping me fix up the bathroom. It means so much to me that we were able to do that for Missy. She’d be thrilled. There was so much she wanted to accomplish that she didn’t have a chance to do.”

“It was really nothing. In fact, I had fun.” Chris smiled when I laughed. “I’m serious. If you want, we can do the other bathroom next. Although that’s going to take a lot more work.”

“It would be worth it, though.”

My hand was still on Chris’s leg, but when he looked down at it, I moved it away. The warmth from his skin had somehow seeped inside me, making my palm and fingers tingle.

“So you came out here when you graduated?” he asked.

“I actually came out when I was seventeen, the summer after my junior year. I finished high school online. Missy was already sick by then—cancer—but she refused to leave and my mom couldn’t come here. It was a good alternative and my parents thought it would only be temporary, but I didn’t want to leave. When I found out Missy left the house to me, I didn’t have to. I think my mom blames Missy for how I turned out, which only makes her take her anger out on me more. She can’t be mad at my aunt since she’s dead, but she’s still pissed off and she doesn’t have anywhere else to direct it.”

Chris glanced my way and gave me a reassuring smile. “One day she’ll accept you.”

I shrugged and turned to face the window, watching the houses and oak trees and flowers fly by. I didn’t really believe it was possible. Some people just can’t change the way they see things.

Chris slowed in front of a driveway and I expected him to turn, but he didn’t. He just pointed. “This is where Ryan and Cami grew up.”

I leaned forward so I could see down the lane, but it was impossible. It was too surrounded by azalea bushes and live oak trees. “Together? I thought they were cousins.”

“They are. Ryan’s mom was sick, so they lived with his aunt and uncle. She died when he was a kid. She . . .” Chris paused, then shook his head. “I can’t tell you. I may be pissed at Ryan, but that’s still his story, and he doesn’t talk about it. One day, maybe.”

He accelerated and I turned, hoping to see at least a piece of his former best friend’s house. The roof was just visible through the trees, but that was all I could get a glimpse of. Even though I didn’t know Ryan and I hadn’t known Chris back then, sadness weighed me down at the thought of him driving away from it. Like he was planning to leave it all in the past for good. It seemed like such a waste.

The next time he slowed, which couldn’t have been more than a quarter of a mile past Ryan’s place, he turned into the driveway. Just like everywhere else, the yard was surrounded by azalea bushes. Purple, pink, and white, all heavily in bloom now that summer was in full swing. The branches of the live oak trees twisted and dipped as they stretched across the sky above our heads, seemingly weighed down by the Spanish moss that swayed from their branches. It was breathtaking, but nothing compared to the house itself.

“It’s like something out of Gone with the Wind!” I said, scooting to the edge of my seat.

A massive staircase led up to the front porch, which spread the whole length of the house. Three huge pillars sat on either side of the steps, extending all the way to the roof, and a balcony stretched across the front of the house on the second story. Chimneys jutted out from each end of the house, and to the left was a three-car garage that somehow didn’t seem the least bit out of place, almost as if the building had always been there. The whole house was white and so pristine it jumped out of the green landscape.

Chris pulled to a stop in front of the porch and smiled my way. “Glad you like it.”

“Like it? Look at this place, Chris! It’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to take pictures.”

“Leave your bag, I’ll get it later,” he said, pushing his door open. “For now, I want to introduce you to my parents, then I can show you around the place.”

He climbed out of the car and I followed, unable to stop my eyes from sweeping over the landscape as we headed toward the porch. This was the perfect place to take some outdoor shots, especially knowing the Ashley River was right in the backyard. Every tree spoke to me, every overgrown azalea bush called my name, begging to be photographed. My fingers were itching to pull out my camera and get started.

Chris pushed the front door open, and I let out a deep breath at the beauty of the front entrance. A huge staircase loomed in front of us, leading up to the second story. The wood floors were dark and rich, and matched the wood of the banister lining the stairs. To the left was a huge library that was lined with ancient books, but Chris turned right. He led me through a dining room decked out in intricately carved woodwork, then into the kitchen. Unlike the rest of the house it was bright and open, with white cabinets and stainless steel appliances, the modern blending in perfectly with the charm the rest of the house had.

A woman I could only assume was Chris’s mom stood in the middle of the kitchen chopping vegetables. She was short, probably only a little over five feet tall, and slightly plump. But in a healthy way, like she’d never wanted for a thing in her life. The kitchen counters were covered with food. Rolls and baked goods, fruit and vegetables that had been cut and stacked on plates. It looked like she was getting ready for a hundred people.

She smiled and dropped the knife onto the cutting board when we walked in. “Christopher! You should have told me you were on your way. I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”

She tsked as she wiped her hands on a towel and headed our way. When she shook her head, her light brown hair brushed gently against her shoulders, and her brown eyes crinkled at the corners as a smile curled up her lips.

“Sorry, we decided to head out earlier. I had a feeling once Bette saw the place she’d want to take her time and I knew you needed help getting everything ready.” Chris turned to face me, flashing me an easy smile that twisted my stomach into knots. If only I could stop thinking about that dream. “This is my mom. Mom, this is Bette.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Presley,” I said, trying not to fidget as her brown eyes swept over me. She may have been small, but there was something very imposing about her.

Chris’s mom waved her hand in the air. “Call me Monica. I know this is the south and we’re all supposed to be formal, but Mrs. Presley makes me feel so old!”

Chris pulled his mom in for a hug. “You’re only as old as you act.”

“In that case, I’m still eighteen!” She laughed as she patted her son on the back. When she pulled away, she said, “Your father’s out back setting up the tables. Go say hi to him before you show Bette around.”

Chris took two steps toward the door before stopping to look at me. “You want to come?”

I was all ready to tell him yes when his mom waved him away and said, “You go on, and don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her. I want to get to know this girl.”

Chris grinned, but rolled his eyes. “Don’t interrogate her, Mom. We’re friends. I told you.”

“Please,” she said, heading for the fridge. “I was friends with your father for ten years, and now look at us. Sometimes friends make the best lovers.”

Chris groaned as he headed for the door. “I don’t want to hear it!”

I was laughing so hard my eyes had started to tear up.

“Sweet tea?” Monica asked, setting a glass pitcher on the counter.

I nodded as I settled into a barstool. “Sure. Thank you.”

“No, thank you for coming to see us. I’ve been dying to meet the girl my son moved in with, and now that I see you . . .” Her eyes moved over me so slowly it made the hair on my scalp prickle. “I can’t help wondering if he’s been lying about nothing going on between you two.”

I shifted in my seat as I tried to analyze the meaning behind her words. Did she think he was hiding me from her? Was she disappointed by the prospect? I doubted she’d ever imagined Chris bringing home a girl covered in a giant tattoo and riddled with piercings. Still, she didn’t seem like it really bothered her all that much. It seemed like she was curious more than anything else.

“We’re just friends,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. “I’m dating a friend of Chris’s, actually. I’m not sure if it will go anywhere, but it’s a big step for me.” Her eyebrows shot up and I hurried to explain. “I don’t date a lot.”

“A shame,” she said, putting the pitcher back in the fridge. “A pretty girl like you.”

She brought two glasses of tea over and set one on the counter in front of me, then took the stool next to mine. We were so close I had to scoot back a little and turn sideways so I could see her while we talked.

Monica sipped her tea for a second, studying me again. I couldn’t help feeling like I was being analyzed with her brown eyes moving over me like that. Then her gaze swept down my arm, right over my willow tree tattoo. My spine stiffened, and I could actually feel the walls going up inside me the way they did with my mom. I held my breath, waiting for some judgmental comment—sugar-coated, of course. This was the south, after all; they don’t call it southern charm for nothing.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, Monica met my gaze and her soft eyes were nothing but friendly as she smiled at me fondly. “So beautiful. I was just admiring the artwork. Does it have a story behind it?”

If my eyes had gotten any bigger, they would have popped right out of my head and rolled across the counter.

I cleared my throat and worked hard at keeping the tremor out of my voice when I said, “Um, it does, actually.” I looked down at my tattoo, tracing the ever-swaying branches with my eyes. “I’ve always loved willow trees. The way they move, constantly bending with the wind. There’s something so beautiful about them. But they’re called weeping willows, and when I was little I couldn’t help wondering why they were so sad. They looked so perfect to me. Then I got older and realized it was because they were always bending to everyone else’s will.”

“Never standing on their own.” Chris’s mom nodded slowly, her eyes moving back to the tattoo for a brief second. When she looked up, she smiled. “That story makes it even more beautiful.”

Tears sprang to my eyes at the understanding tone in her voice. No one had ever really understood that story the way she seemed to. Almost as if she knew exactly how I felt.

“I’ve tried to tell my own mom that story, but she never understood.” I shook my head and looked away so she couldn’t see the fresh tears in my eyes. I hated that my mom’s judgment could still get to me, even when she wasn’t here. But there was a part of me that knew I’d always feel a little guilty about letting my parents down. “All my mom can see when she looks at my tattoo is that I mutilated my body, and I’ll never fit into the perfect little future she had imagined for me.”

Monica took a deep breath, then pressed her lips together. I had a feeling she was trying to figure out how to explain something to me, and I couldn’t help being curious to hear what it was.

“We all want what’s best for our children,” she said after a few seconds. “Sometimes, as a parent, it’s hard to see our kids as individuals. They’re more like an extension of ourselves. When they choose a different path than we think they should, we see it as a mistake.”

It made sense, and it actually helped ease some of the bitterness I felt toward my mom. It had been a long time since I’d felt like things were easy between us, and I knew sometimes she felt like she’d lost me. Still, I didn’t know how to talk to her about it. It wasn’t like I could sit down with her and chat the way I was with Chris’s mom.

“My parents are so . . .” I gnawed on my bottom lip, trying to come up with a word that described them. “Moral. I don’t disagree with how they raised me, exactly, but I think some of the things they’ve stressed aren’t as important as they do. They made it impossible for me to really figure out who I was when I was growing up because there were so many restrictions on what I could and couldn’t do. And now, no matter how hard I try, I don’t think it would even be possible for me to ever live up to their expectations. I always feel like I’m a failure in their eyes. I don’t think it helps that I’m an only child.”

“That makes a difference, I’m sure. No one else to shoulder the burden.”

I laughed and shook my head. Burden. It felt like that sometimes. “Exactly. They got married late and my mom was thirty-eight when I was born, but still so perfect. How can a person live up to that?”

Chris’s mom leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. No one is perfect. Take me, for example: I was quite the party girl when I was young.”

I laughed again as I tried to picture this little southern lady partying. Of course, she’d been young once too. Most people test the waters a little when they’re young. Still, I couldn’t help shaking my head.

“It’s true,” she said, nodding emphatically, her eyes big and round. “I made mistakes, I did stupid things that could have gotten me hurt, and I went out with boys who weren’t good enough to wipe my feet. But I got through it all in one piece, and I learned from it. And even though there were more than a few tears shed, and more than one mortifying moment, I’m glad I did it. It made me who I am, and I’m glad I didn’t live for anyone else. You will be too one day. I promise.”

Hearing that out of her mouth helped me feel more certain of my decisions. I always felt like I was tied up in knots when I thought about my parents, but knowing it would all be worth it made things better. I’d promised myself I’d never go back to who I was before, but that didn’t mean there weren’t times when I felt sick at the thought of disappointing the people who raised me.

“Thanks for telling me that,” I said. “I feel like I can’t talk to my mom about anything because she couldn’t possibly relate. I mean, she got married when she was thirty-four, but she waited until her wedding night to have sex. If she was able to have self-control for so long, I should be able to. Right?” I snorted and rolled my eyes.

Another reason I was a disappointment to my mom.

Monica’s eyes got bigger than ever. “Oh my. Well, that’s quite an accomplishment and something to be proud of, but not all of us are that strong.”

I laughed as I shook my head. I wasn’t sure which was more surprising, that I was able to tell Chris’s mom all this stuff, or that I was able to tell anyone. “I’m not even sure why I told you that. I just feel comfortable talking to you, I guess.”

“Well, it’s nice to have someone who will talk to me. Christopher never tells me a thing. I know something’s going on with him, but he’s so tight-lipped about it. He hasn’t mentioned Ryan in months, and I know Ryan is dating Annie now.” She shook her head. “The mama bear in me wants to claw that girl’s face off, but I know Ryan well enough to realize he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt Chris. They’ve been friends for so long, those two. After Ryan lost his mama, things were so hard for that poor boy. Did Chris tell you about it?”

“Not really. He said it was Ryan’s story to tell.”

She clicked her tongue and nodded. “I suppose he’s right, so I’ll just have to save my gossip for book club.” Her eyes twinkled. “You can bet a lot of it will be about you.”

I was laughing when the floor creaked behind me, and I turned to find Chris standing in the doorway. He had his arms crossed and he was leaning against the doorframe. Just watching us. Having his brown eyes on me like that . . . it sent shivers through my body.

“I like this one,” his mom called, getting to her feet. “She’s spunky.”

“We’re just roommates, Mom.” Chris pushed himself off the wall and headed my way, shaking his head. “Now look what you’ve done. Every girl I bring home from here out will be compared to you. Mom will constantly be dropping little hints that will undermine all my relationships.”

His mom smiled as she pulled the pitcher out of the fridge again. “Things like, ‘she’s nice, Christopher, but you know what she’s missing? A big tattoo of a willow tree.’” His mom grinned at her own cleverness as she filled another glass with tea, and I couldn’t help laughing.

Chris groaned. “Real subtle, Mom.”

“Moms aren’t supposed to be subtle,” she said, setting the pitcher down so she could put her hands on her hips. “How else are we supposed to manipulate you into doing what we want?”

“Whatever,” Chris said, running his hand through his dark hair. Looking away from me. “Bette is dating someone.”

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he sounded disappointed. His mom must have thought so too, because she narrowed her eyes on his face. Then the corner of her mouth jerked up, making her look like she’d just learned some big secret. She was probably reading too much into the situation.

She pushed the glass of sweet tea toward her son and headed back to the fridge to replace the pitcher. “We’ll see,” she said in a singsong voice, sounding like she was eighteen years old.

Chris rolled his eyes, but I was grinning like crazy. I was glad his mom liked me, because I liked her. She was spunky, which I hadn’t really expected when I first saw her. She looked too proper. Of course, I knew from personal experience that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

Chapter Seventeen

Chris

I leaned against the oak tree, sipping my tea as I watched Bette. She was down on one knee only six feet away from me, her camera pointed toward the house. She took a couple pictures, then looked down at the screen, covering it with her hand so she could block the glare from the sun. It was bright, and right over her head. Rays broke through the tangled branches above us, shining down on her hair, making it sparkle like rubies. The studs in her nose and above her lip glinted too. She looked fantastic.

After a few minutes, Bette shifted so she was lying on her stomach, which caused her shirt to ride up just a little, showing off her creamy skin. It made me think about how soft it had felt against mine the night we’d watched The Exorcist together—not to mention how other things had felt—and suddenly the urge to go over and pull her against me was so strong I couldn’t believe it. I had done my best to push those feelings out of head since then, but now, standing there watching her take pictures, it all came screaming back. Damn. I needed to get laid so I would stop thinking about her like this. The things I wanted to do to her were fucking indecent.

She twisted a little so she could look over her shoulder, smiling my way. “I’m so angry at you for not bringing me here sooner!”

“Any time you want to come, let me know.”

“I would love that! I’d love to do some retro shoots one day. You know, like pin-up stuff? The river would be an amazing backdrop.”

I smiled and took another sip of my tea as she twisted back. Her shirt moved higher, revealing even more of her skin, but also a tattoo. Only part of it was visible, and from where I stood all I could see were a few words. It was too far away to read them, though. Weird that I’d never seen it before. How many other tattoos did she have? And where . . .

My eyes moved down her long body, stretched out on my parents’ lawn. The shorts she wore ended just below the curve of her ass, and her legs were long and lean. For some insane reason the image of her wrapping them around my waist popped into my head, but I forced myself to push it away. Thinking like that would only get me in trouble.

“What are you thinking about?” Bette asked as she climbed to her feet, making me jump.

I let out a half cough, half laugh as I pushed myself off the tree, heading toward her. “Nothing, really.”

She smiled and tilted her head to the side, her red hair falling over her forehead. When she pursed her lips, I forced myself to look away. There was something so incredibly sexy about that expression.

“Just curious about this.”

I ran my free hand over her right side, moving her shirt up. The tips of my fingers trailed along her soft skin, and even though I knew I should stop, I didn’t want to. Slowly, the words came into view. It was a single line that ran up her side, and I had to tilt my head so I could read it.

Inhale the future, exhale the past

“It was the first tattoo I got,” she said as I read it. “I’d just turned eighteen, and my aunt bought it for me as a birthday present. My mom and dad don’t even know I have it. It’s something I like to keep to myself, you know? Like a secret only Missy and I share.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so nosy.”

My hand was still on her side, and her skin warmed under my touch. Almost like having my fingers on her body was making her hot. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, and her eyes held mine, then something I hadn’t expected happened. An ache started in my chest, moving through me so fast it took my breath away. Even though she looked sexy standing there with the sun shining down on her head, and even though her skin felt better than sin under my hand, I suddenly knew with perfect clarity that the ache had nothing to do with sexual attraction. I actually liked Bette.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t mind you knowing. I kind of think it’s something you’d understand.”

It was. Especially right here in this moment.

When afternoon came, I headed out to see if my dad needed help setting up the tables and chairs while Bette went inside to help with the food. The air was sticky, especially close to the river, and within seconds of stepping in the backyard the mosquitos started to attack. I needed to make sure Bette put on bug spray before we came outside to eat. She had way too much exposed skin and if she wasn’t careful she’d get eaten alive.

Dad had six tables out already, and was in the middle of setting the folding chairs up around them. Of course, Mom had already decorated. Red, white, and blue tablecloths and centerpieces sparkled under the sun. There were tiki torches in a circle around the eating area that were supposed to repel the mosquitos, and more anti-bug candles on the tables. We’d see, though. When you got this close to the Ashley in July, it was pretty much a lost cause. Above the tables, paper lanterns hung from the trees and there was an assortment of sparklers and other small fireworks set out on a table. Mom threw this barbeque every year, and every year it got more elaborate. Her friends and our neighbors looked forward to it and so did she.

“You need any help?” I called when I was still six feet from my dad.

He jerked up, then looked over his shoulder, shaking his head. “You can’t sneak up on me like that, Chris. I’m an old man now. I’m liable to have a heart attack.”

“Right.” I chuckled as I grabbed a chair and unfolded it. “Mom thinks she’s still eighteen and you think you’re on death’s door. Seems like you two may have a few communication issues.”

“Well, that will happen when you’ve been married for twenty-four years. As long as they’re just small things—like how old we are—we’ll be okay.” He grinned my way, then wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.

His hair was moist around his collar, and a lot grayer than I remembered it. My parents weren’t as old as Bette’s, but they were getting close to fifty now. I remembered a time when that had seemed ancient, but thinking about my mom and dad and all the years ahead, it didn’t anymore. Not really. Dad may have put on a little weight around the middle, and his skin might have been a little more wrinkled around his brown eyes, but he was still young.

I must have seemed like a baby to them, still.

“Ryan’s aunt and uncle are coming tonight.”

Dad didn’t look up from where he stood, shoving chairs under their respective tables. But I froze. They always came, so I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I’d been so wrapped up in the summer and Bette that I hadn’t thought about it until now. Did that mean Ryan was coming? What about Annie?

I cleared my throat and forced myself to keep my voice even. “Is that right? What about Cami and Ryan?”

“No. Apparently Cami is celebrating in the city with her boyfriend, and Ryan went to Atlanta for the holiday. His girlfriend’s dad just moved there all the way from California, and they’re helping him get settled in.”

My body stiffened even more, but I didn’t stop working and neither did Dad. We unfolded chairs and stuffed them under a table, then moved to the next, neither one of us talking. I was trying to work out what I was feeling and I’m sure my dad was giving me time to do it. Talking to him was better than talking to Mom, who demanded answers immediately. Dad just kept quiet and let me figure it out.

Of course, I didn’t have a clue what was going on inside me. Relief, that was for sure. Knowing I wouldn’t run into Ryan and Annie tonight was a good thing, especially when I’d been having such a nice day with Bette. But there was more too. Thinking about Atlanta and the road trip we’d taken a little over six months ago made feelings I’d hoped were fading come screaming back.

Annie and I had been on the outs, but we’d taken the trip as friends. Things had started off weird—her brother had some issue with me being there—but as the weekend wore on, it had gotten better. Annie had relaxed. She’d spent the whole football game flirting with me, and it had been so nice I hadn’t even cared that the Falcons had lost. Again.

But now she was there with Ryan. As his girlfriend. It sucked.

When the chairs were all unfolded, Dad turned to face me. He wiped more sweat from his brow before saying, “Your mom wanted to talk to you about the whole thing, but I told her to let you be. Still, I feel like I need to say something.”

I tensed, waiting for a lecture. It wasn’t really my dad’s style, but every now and then Mom would convince him I needed a good talking to.

“Things don’t always work out the way we think they should. I know you dated this girl for a while, and I know she’s with Ryan now. I’m not sure what all happened there, and you don’t have to tell me. But I do know this: these things tend to work out for the best. We don’t always know what we want, and sometimes the thing we think is so perfect for us turns out to be a huge mistake. If Ryan and this girl are as happy as I’ve heard they are, then she wasn’t the right one for you. You’ll find someone better. Someone who will bring out the best in you.”

My throat was so clogged with emotions and words it was impossible to speak, but most of it had to do with my dad. Not Ryan and Annie. He was a quiet man, contrasting with my mom, who felt like she always needed to be running her mouth. Hearing him say so much at once and with so much meaning behind it was unusual.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said, forcing the words out. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He nodded, then turned to face the front of the house when footsteps crunched against the grass. I followed his gaze to find my older brother, Jon, headed our way. He had a six-pack under his arm and a smile on his face, and even though I was thrilled to see him, I wasn’t interested in continuing the conversation in his presence. The last thing I needed was for him to lay into me about losing a girl to Ryan.

Dad must have sensed it, because he slapped me on the back as he waved to Jon. “Let’s get into the air conditioning before we melt. Your brother looks like he’s ready to start partying, and I’d bet your mom could use some help with that food.”

Chapter Eighteen

Bette

I was in the middle of slicing a watermelon when Chris came into the kitchen with his dad. Another guy was right behind them, and the resemblance between him and Chris was so strong I didn’t need to wonder who he was. He was about an inch shorter than Chris, but broader and not as trim. Under his Jack Daniels shirt he had the beginnings of a beer belly. He and Chris had the same easy smile, and even though the hat he wore was pulled down too low to get a good look at his eyes, I had a suspicion they would be a spitting image of Chris’s.

The newcomer’s gaze moved across the room, and when it landed on me he stopped in his tracks. “Damn, bro. This is your roommate?”

“Jonathon!” Monica pressed her lips together as she shook her head in disapproval.

Jon swept off his hat, revealing hair the same shade as Chris’s, but just a tad longer. “Sorry, Mom,” he said, crossing the room so he could give her a hug. “It just slipped out.”

Monica rolled her eyes, but her mouth was still turned down at the corners.

By the time Jon turned to me, he was smiling, his transgressions totally forgotten. “Bette, right? I’m Chris’s older, smarter, more successful, and obviously better-looking brother.”

Chris snorted. “Right. She’s not blind, Jon.”

“I know,” Jon said, wiggling his eyebrows in my direction.

I laughed and Monica clicked her tongue behind me. When I turned, I found her eyes narrowed on her older son. “You watch yourself, young man. She’s a nice girl.”

Jon grinned as he twisted the top off his beer. “That’s how I like them.”

Guests started showing up around five, and after that Monica was running around like crazy. I did my best to help her set out the food and chase away the flies and offer people drinks. Every time she looked my way, she smiled like I had been sent from heaven, and every time she introduced me, she gushed about Chris’s wonderful friend. The implied tone behind the word wasn’t lost on me—or anyone else—but I just smiled. If it made her happy, that was fine. There was no reason for me to tell her more than once that I was dating someone else. Plus, it felt nice to be wanted.

Chris made the rounds, talking to aunts and uncles, neighbors and family friends he’d known since childhood. Even from across the yard he seemed jittery, though. Like he was waiting for the axe to drop. Only I didn’t know what the problem was.

Dave, his other brother, showed up an hour after everyone else. He was shorter than the other two, and a lot older than I expected. His hair was sandy blond and wavy. He didn’t look a thing like Chris and Jon, but that wasn’t really unusual. I’d always marveled how some siblings could pass for twins while others didn’t even look related.

“You have been a lifesaver,” Monica gushed as the guests filed past the food, filling their plates.

“You do this every year?”

It seemed like a lot of work, especially if she didn’t have anyone to help her out. True, she had her sons, but boys were different than girls. I doubted Mrs. Presley’s rowdy sons had ever considered helping her. Except maybe Chris. Sometimes, I was astounded by just how considerate he was.

She nodded as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I do, and I love it. My husband, Stephen, is always trying to get me to scale it down, but I refuse. That would be admitting I’m getting too old to do this all on my own. Plus, I keep hoping one of my boys will settle down and bring home a nice girl who can pitch in.” She smiled up at me and I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. “It would have been nice to have a daughter, but a daughter-in-law will be just as good. I plan on being a nice mother-in-law, just so you know.” She winked like she was letting me in on a life-changing secret, but I just laughed. She really was good at manipulating the situation without turning on the mom-guilt.

“How old are your other sons?” I asked, scanning the crowd until I found Chris.

He stood across the lawn, drinking a beer and laughing with his brothers. He and Jon looked pretty close in age, maybe only two years apart at the most, but Dave had to be older.

“Jonathon is nineteen months older than Christopher, so they were always close growing up. Were on a lot of the same sports teams and only one year apart in school. But David is eight years older than Chris.”

I did the math in my head, but it just didn’t seem right. Monica couldn’t be old enough to have a son that age. She couldn’t be over fifty. Could she?

“So David is twenty-nine?” I said hesitantly.

“Just had a birthday in June.” Monica took a drink and smiled to herself. “I was seventeen when he was born. Had just finished my junior year of high school. My parents wanted me to give him up, but I refused. Luckily, my mom was supportive enough to help me raise him. If she hadn’t helped me so much, there’s no way I would have been able to finish high school—his dad was never really around. A lot of my friends ditched me after that. Partly it was the conservative ideals of the community, but it also had a lot to do with the fact that they just didn’t understand. They couldn’t. When weekends came, they all went out on dates or to school dances, but I stayed home with my baby. We just drifted apart.”

“What happened to his father?”

She frowned, but it was brief, and by the time she started talking again she was smiling. “I gave him the opportunity to be in David’s life, but he didn’t want anything to do with us. Poor David. Luckily, Stephen was one of the few people who stuck by me. We were friends in high school and stayed that way. He went off to college, but every time he came home he would stop in to see me. I worked and took some classes, but I didn’t have much of a social life, and it got to the point where I looked forward to his visits. After he graduated, we started dating. David was five by then, and he was seven when Stephen and I got married. So you see, it all turned out for the best.”

“That’s an amazing story,” I whispered, watching Chris’s dad as he headed over to join his sons under the oak tree. He patted Dave on the back and said something that made Jon laugh. Chris just shook his head. When he looked up, his eyes met mine, and he smiled.

“Life can throw you a few curve balls,” Monica said. “That’s for sure.” She let out a deep breath, then turned to face me. Her smile so big it looked like it would hurt. “You have been a major help, but now the time has come to relax. Grab a drink! Spend some time with Chris.”

She winked, but I just laughed. I refused to be baited.

“Sounds good.”

I grabbed a beer from the cooler before heading toward Chris. The sun was getting low, but we still had a good hour before it set, then probably another forty-five minutes until it got dark enough for fireworks. It had been years since I’d found myself at a family barbeque on the Fourth of July. I’d spent the last few years drinking with friends downtown until the sun set, then roaming the streets of Charleston as fireworks went off above us. This was nicer, somehow. Almost nostalgic.

“Hey,” Chris said as I came up to join him.

He was grinning and more relaxed than he had been earlier, and right away I could tell he’d had a little more to drink than he usually did. We’d been living together for almost five months now, and with the exception of that one night, I’d never seen him drunk. It just wasn’t his thing. Why he’d chosen a barbeque at his parents’ house, though, was beyond me.

“You’re drunk,” I said, sidling up beside him.

Jon belted out a laugh, elbowing his younger brother so hard Chris almost fell over. “I usually have a tough time getting this guy to loosen up, but he was all ready to drink tonight.”

“It’s not something he normally does, that’s for sure,” I said, pursing my lips as I narrowed my eyes on his face, trying to figure out exactly how drunk he was.

Chris grinned from ear to ear and pointed his beer bottle at me. “See! Right there. Sexy as hell. I told you!”

I stepped back, totally speechless for about thirty seconds. “Sexy? What are you talking about?”

“Chris here was just telling us what it’s been like living with you. I’d tell you what he said, but I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” Jon winked, and I had the urge to cross my arms over my chest when his eyes moved down. Chris had told me all about his childish brother, but that didn’t mean I was okay with him blatantly undressing me with his eyes.

Chris’s oldest brother snorted and rolled his eyes before turning to me. “We haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Dave. The responsible one.”

“Nothing fun about being responsible.” Jon threw his head back and sucked down the rest of his beer like if he didn’t hurry he’d miss his chance.

“Bette,” I said, focusing on Dave and not Jon, who was already popping open a new beer. “Which I guess you already know. It’s nice to meet you.”

Chris was leaning against the tree, looking at me with a goofy grin on his face, and my cheeks were on fire. What the hell had he been telling his brothers about me? Had he been complaining? No, that couldn’t be it. We had fun together. What else could it be? And what would embarrass me? Shit! Maybe he does know I had a sex dream about him that night he slept in my room. Had he just been playing dumb so I wouldn’t be embarrassed?

“So what’s it like living with this guy?” Dave asked, grinning like he was in on some secret. Apparently he was.

I took a big drink and did my best to avoid Chris’s gaze. Just looking at him made me burn with embarrassment, but it also brought the memories of that dream screaming back. Damn. I’d almost forgotten how hot it was.

“Chris is a good roommate,” I said evasively. “We have fun together.”

Dave and Jon stared at me, waiting for more, but I was too tongue-tied to say anything else. Especially since I could still feel Chris staring at me. Why did I have the sudden urge to cover up?

“Okay . . .” Dave tapped his toe, then grinned. “Why don’t we tell you what it was like growing up with this guy?”

“Oh, hell, yeah. Have I got stories for you!” Jon said, grinning from ear to ear. “So, you know that Chris here was the baby of the family, and of course as older brothers it was our duty to look out for him. Like when we’d go out to eat and little Chris needed to use the bathroom,” Jon paused for dramatic effect. “Only the poor guy couldn’t read yet!”

Jon started cracking up and I shook my head, smiling. I had an idea of where this was going and it was a funny story, but I had a feeling the booze and brotherly nostalgia had more to do with Jon’s laughter than the story itself.

“You suck at telling stories, let me tell it,” Dave said, stepping in front of his younger brother and focusing on me. “Chris always looked up to us, but as his older brothers it was our job to torture him. It comes with the territory.”

“Of course,” I said, glancing Chris’s way. He just grinned and shook his head, looking totally unconcerned.

“So he’d ask us which one was the boys’ bathroom, and of course we’d point him in the wrong direction.” Dave and Jon burst out laughing, reminding me of two giggly cheerleaders.

“Took him way too long to catch on!” Jon said between laughter.

“But I did,” Chris shot at them.

Dave snorted and shook his head. “Only then we started telling you the right one just so you’d go into the wrong one again!” He slapped Chris on the arm good-naturedly. “You were such a gullible kid.”

“All kids are gullible, you idiot,” Chris muttered, but he was still smiling when our eyes met. He winked and his smile morphed into something slightly evil. “Don’t laugh too hard. We don’t want the return of the snort.”

I slapped my hand over my mouth when I laughed so hard it shook my whole body. Luckily, Jon and Dave were too busy discussing all the idiotic things they’d done over the years. After that they launched into a competition where each one tried to one-up the other, throwing out examples of how dumb their brothers were. As if that would prove they had the most intelligence. Apparently Chris once put a spoonful of sour cream on his ice cream thinking it was whipped cream, and Jon gulped down a glass of apple cider vinegar thinking it was apple juice. Jon cut out a big chunk of his hair when he couldn’t get his cowlick to cooperate—it also happened to be picture day at school—and Chris let his older brothers convince him that ET was not only real, but lived under his bed. Since Chris was terrified of the creepy little extraterrestrial, he spent a week sleeping between his parents. Dave seemed to have way more ammo than the other two since he was so much older, making the game more than a little unfair.

As we talked, the sun set and the sky slowly darkened. Around us kids squealed and ran in circles with sparklers shining in their hands. Jon and Dave and Chris talked and laughed and threw stories my way that made me wish I’d had a sibling to torture growing up, and the more they talked, the more I laughed. I laughed until my stomach ached and eyes watered, and I was sure my eyeliner was smeared all over my face. But I didn’t care, because for the first time since I’d left home I remembered what it was like to spend time with family.

“David! Jonathon!” Monica called right around the time the last bit of light was slowly fading from the sky. “Come over here for a minute.”

Dave waved her way, still laughing. “Be right there!”

Jon shook his head and shot Chris an evil look. “You know what’s happening right now, don’t you?”

“Of course. She wants these two love birds to be alone.” Dave grinned, elbowing me lightly when he walked by, heading toward his mom. “Fireworks are so romantic.”

“Have fun!” Jon chuckled as he jogged after his brother, leaving Chris and me alone.

“My brothers are done humiliating me, so now it’s my mom’s turn,” Chris said, but he was grinning like he found the whole thing not only funny, but normal. Which was nice.

“What was so humiliating about the stories your brothers told?” I asked.

Chris laughed and shook his head. “Seriously? I was afraid of ET. Do I need to explain?”

“To be fair,” I said, laughing but still trying to make him feel better, “he was kind of creepy. Plus, we all have embarrassing stories.”

“Well, I don’t know any of yours,” Chris pointed out, his words slightly slurred.

“But it seems you told your brothers something about me before I came over.” I raised my eyebrows at him as I narrowed my eyes on his face, trying to look stern but failing miserably when a smile tugged at my lips. “I’m still curious about that sexy comment.”

Chris gave me a slow grin that made my knees wobble. Damn his brothers for reminding me about that dream.

“You do this little pout,” he said, then took a sip of his beer. He was already drunk, but we didn’t have anywhere to go that night, so if there was ever a time to drink, it was now.

“Pout?” I pursed my lips, then laughed. “Oh! Wait. You think it’s sexy when I do that?”

My face got warm when his eyes swept down to my lips. I was torn between wanting to step closer to him and wanting to move away, but with the way he was looking at me it was hard to do either. I found it hard to breathe, let alone walk.

“Everything about you is sexy,” Chris said, his voice suddenly low.

My breath caught in my throat as warmth moved from my face and down my body. My blood felt like it was on fire, and the longer Chris’s eyes held mine, the worse it got. He wouldn’t look away, and every few seconds his eyes would move back to my lips. Of course, I found them pursing against my will. Was I trying to turn him on? No. That would be wrong and stupid. I was dating Blake, and there was Annie . . .

But things with Blake weren’t serious, and I had fun with Chris. So much more fun than I’d had with anyone in such a long time. He and Annie had been over for months; surely he was over her by now.

“Chris,” I said, forcing my feet to step forward so he could hear me. For some reason, I couldn’t talk louder than a whisper. “What are you thinking? You’re standing here telling me I’m sexy, you’re talking to your brothers about it. What’s going through your head? I mean, I’m dating Blake and—”

“I’m a guy and we live together. There are bound to be complications,” he said flatly, then took another drink.

He tore his eyes away from me finally, breaking the spell, and looked over my shoulder. “Ryan’s aunt and uncle are here. That’s why I’ve been hiding under this damn tree the whole night. Stupid, right?”

Something inside me tore. “Oh.”

“Apparently he and Annie are off in Atlanta visiting her family. Sucks.”

Annie. I should have known. Whatever he’d said to his brothers had just been locker room talk. That was it. Chris still had a thing for Annie. He wasn’t ready to move on and I was nothing more than a roommate to him. That’s what we were. Roommates and friends. We’d been telling his mom that all day long, but maybe I was the one who needed to be reminded of that little fact.

“It does suck,” I said.

The boom of the first firework echoed through the night, startling me. I turned to face the Ashley River just as golden sparkles streamed through the sky, crackling across the silence. Chris didn’t move to stand next to me, and for some reason I was glad. More explosions went off above us, and soon the river glowed, but I couldn’t enjoy it. Something inside me felt empty, only I had no idea why.

Chapter Nineteen

Chris

I saw Bette very little the week following the Fourth of July. Thanks to a couple coworkers being out, I was busy with work, and she was finishing up editing her pictures for Reed. Plus, she had that summer class she was taking. At least that’s what I told myself. If that wasn’t the reason she was barely at home, I didn’t want to think about it. After the time we spent at my parents’ house, every thought I had about her was jumbled.

Things between us had really felt off since that weekend. The next morning she’d been chipper and happy, chatting like crazy with my mom and brothers, thanking my dad for lending me all the tools so we could fix up the bathroom. But she and I had barely spoken on the drive home. I’d been drunk at the barbeque, but not drunk enough to forget all the shit I’d said to her, or to realize the truth about how I really felt. Whatever was going on with Bette and me, it was more than just friendship—at least on my part—and I couldn’t deny that anymore. I liked her.

The sudden realization that I had feelings for Bette had knocked me right on my ass. Where the hell had it come from? Sure, I’d thought she was hot since the first day we met, but I’d spent the last few months hating Ryan and feeling like shit over losing Annie. Having feelings for someone else hadn’t even crossed my mind. It was confusing as hell and I didn’t have a clue how it fit with everything else going on in my life.

That’s all I could think about as I walked down the street on my way to the gym. Bette and me, and how much fun we had together. With all that going through my head I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going, and I’d just turned onto George Street when a familiar laugh rang through the air in front of me. My head jerked up and my eyes landed on Annie and Ryan.

I stood there frozen in place, watching them for a few minutes. Ryan wasn’t wearing a shirt and he was drenched in sweat. He was an obsessive runner, and I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was out, even if it was July and a thousand percent humidity.

It was Annie, though, that really had my attention. Her pale hair was pulled back into a ponytail and it bounced behind her as she stretched up onto the tips of her toes. She wore tight running pants and a fitted shirt that clung to her long, lean body. A body I knew well because I’d touched it. Felt her soft skin under my hands as I’d kissed her, trying to hold back because I knew she was inexperienced. I’d wanted her, though. Wanted her so bad that when she’d walked out on me I thought it would rip me in half. Thought I’d never be able to look at her without hurting.

Only it didn’t hurt. Not when Ryan leaned forward and kissed her. Not when she threw her arms around him and his hands moved down her back to cup her ass. None of it hurt. It didn’t even feel like I knew her. As I stood there watching them kiss only fifteen feet away from me, the truth hit me like a semi.

I hadn’t really known her. She’d been lost back then, unsure of where she fit in and who she was. She didn’t even know herself, so I couldn’t have really known her. And you couldn’t love someone you didn’t know.

“Shit,” I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.

Annie’s head turned toward me and her arms dropped to her sides. She pressed her palms against Ryan’s chest, trying to push him away. Apparently he thought she was playing, because he wouldn’t stop kissing her neck.

“Ryan,” she hissed, pushing harder against him.

Ryan finally looked my way. The color drained from his face and he let Annie go. She took a step back as if the distance would make me forget what I saw. It wouldn’t, but I was glad. It was something I’d needed to see.

“Chris.” Ryan took a step in my direction with his hand out like he was reaching for me. Then he thought better of it and dropped it to his side. “Good to see you, man.”

I ran my hand through my hair and looked back and forth between the two of them. Seeing them right now felt surreal, but not unwelcome. Which was a helluva surprise.

I couldn’t think of anything to say, so what came out was, “This is weird.”

Annie backed toward the building, giving me a smile that couldn’t possibly look more uncomfortable. “It’s good to see you, Chris, but I think I’m going to leave you two alone.”

Ryan and I didn’t say anything as Annie headed toward the door. She slipped inside, and we just stood there, fifteen feet away from each other and totally silent. Like strangers. It was a weird place to be since I’d known Ryan for more than twelve years.

The second the door clicked shut, Ryan said, “I miss you, man. You have no idea. I know you’re pissed and I know this sucks, but I just wish you’d let me explain everything.”

“I’m . . . hurt. I thought it was about Annie. This whole time I’ve been hating you for stealing the girl I thought I was in love with, but seeing you two here today . . .” I shook my head. “This isn’t even about her. Bette tried to tell me, but I didn’t believe her. This is about you and me. You should have just told me how you felt.”

“I wanted to, but I knew you wouldn’t listen. Do you really believe you would have? I think it would have ended up just like this if I’d tried.” Ryan held my gaze for a moment, waiting for a response, but I couldn’t say anything because I knew he was right.

“Should have tried,” I muttered, pulling my eyes away from his.

“Where’d you go?”

I looked back to find him walking toward me, and the closer he got, the tighter my chest became. Being in front of him made me feel like I was going to suffocate. “Got a job. Found a roommate.”

“Cami said you moved out, but she didn’t know where exactly. Said she saw you with some tattooed chick.”

“Bette. She’s my roommate.”

Ryan tilted his head as he studied my face. “Liam said she was hot.”

“Liam only thinks with his dick,” I muttered.

If Liam had been in front of me, I would have punched him in the nose for saying anything about Bette, and the realization that I cared hit me even harder than seeing Ryan and Annie together. Like I suddenly found myself in the path of a train. Thinking about Bette . . . it made an ache move through my body that scorched deep into my soul.

“Not anymore,” Ryan said.

I looked up to find him grinning, but I’d been so distracted with thoughts of Bette that it took me a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about. Liam. That’s right.

“He’s with Cami now,” Ryan said. “Barely even looks at another chick. Drives Amber crazy.”

I snorted, then realized I was smiling. My lips were traitors because I was still pissed. Yes, I didn’t want Annie anymore—which still blew my mind—and sure, I couldn’t stop thinking about Bette, but Ryan had betrayed me. There was no getting around that.

“Probably doesn’t help that you’re taken too,” I said, even though it made me smile even more.

Ryan’s face scrunched up. “Yeah . . .”

He nodded slowly and we lapsed back into silence. It was an awkward silence. Not the kind that used to hang over us as we lounged on the couch at his aunt and uncle’s house on Sundays, watching football. This silence made it seem like none of that had ever happened. Like the past had been erased.

It hurt worse than his betrayal.

“I gotta go,” I said, backing away.

“Chris,” Ryan said, taking one small step closer. “I still want to talk. If you feel like you can, shoot me a text. Okay?”

I nodded as I turned and headed down the street. “Yeah. I’ll think about it.” I didn’t look back.

Blake was sprawled out on the couch when I got home that night. He grinned up at me, the remote held in his hand as he flipped through the channels, and for the first time ever I wasn’t okay seeing him there. I was still confused as hell about what I felt for Bette, and my day had been less than great thanks to my run-in with Annie and Ryan. I’d been hoping for some alone time with my roommate so we could talk and I could try to sort out whatever I was feeling, but Blake looked a lot more settled in than I liked.

“Hey, man, you’re just in time. I think we’re going to watch a movie.”

I exhaled slowly and forced myself to be civil even though all I wanted to do was to tell him to get the hell off my couch. Which was dumb. It wasn’t even my couch, it was Bette’s.

“Sounds good,” I said, heading into the kitchen to grab a beer. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was trying to talk Bette into watching the new Paranormal Activity movie, but she said no. Said she can’t handle scary movies,” he called from the other room.

I stopped in front of the fridge when images of Bette pressed up against Blake slammed into me. Hell, no. I could still remember what it had felt like to have her body smashed against mine and there was no way I could sit through a whole movie and watch her do the same thing with Blake.

“Yeah, she can’t handle them,” I said. My voice came out gravelly, so I cleared my throat. “It will give her nightmares.”

Blake chuckled in the other room. “Then I’ll just have to stay the night so I can protect her.”

Shit.

I jerked the fridge open so hard that all the jars in the door clanked together. Beers were lined up on the top shelf, and I grabbed a couple, then thought better of it and grabbed a third. I should bring Blake one too. If I didn’t, I’d not only look like a dick, but even more than that, he might get the wrong idea. Like I was in love with his girlfriend or something.

Which was fucking insane . . .

I popped the tops, chuckling at my own stupidity, then headed back out to the living room. Bette was just jogging down the stairs and when I caught sight of her tits bouncing in that damn purple tank top, I let out a groan and took a big swig of my beer. If I were smart, I’d go upstairs and watch some porn so I could get my mind off my roommate. God, not only was I an idiot, but I was a glutton for punishment.

“Hey,” Bette said, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “You’re home! You going to watch a movie with us?”

She smiled like everything was perfectly normal, which it wasn’t. It couldn’t be normal when every time I looked at her I thought about bending her over the back of the couch . . .

I chugged the rest of my beer as I held out the other two bottles so she could take them. Maybe once my bottle was empty I’d hit myself over the head with it.

Bette was staring at me like I’d lost my mind. “You okay?”

I cleared my throat and headed into the kitchen to get a second beer. “Shitty day. Saw Ryan and Annie . . .” It was partly true, at least.

She sighed, and I looked over my shoulder to find her watching me. There was an expression on her face I couldn’t quite read. Frustration? I didn’t really know why she’d be frustrated with me, but the truth was I was pretty frustrated with myself, so she’d have to wait in line.

“Forget it,” I called, pulling a second beer out of the fridge. “Let’s watch something funny. I could use a good laugh.”

The movie was supposed to be a comedy, and the others seemed to be enjoying it, but I couldn’t force out a laugh no matter what I did. Bette was all snuggled up against Blake, and he had his hand on her knee. I couldn’t stop staring at his thumb as it rubbed small circle across her skin.

I didn’t have a clue what was wrong with me. A little over a week ago Bette had still been my roommate and I was sure as hell I’d been in love with Annie, but now everything was different. I hadn’t felt a damn thing when I ran into Annie today, but every time I looked at Bette I had to fight the urge to touch her. The scariest part about it was that it didn’t have a whole lot to do with sex. I wanted her. Wanted to tell her about my day and how I felt and what I’d thought when I’d seen Ryan and Annie kiss. I wanted it to be just the two of us watching TV, but Blake was here. In the way.

The fact that it was my fault wasn’t lost on me.

By the time the movie was done, I was dying to get out of the room. Blake’s hand had moved up to Bette’s thigh, and I was starting to hate that she’d traded her yoga pants in for little shorts now that the weather had gotten warmer. Even worse, more than once Blake had bent down to kiss her bare shoulder. If he did it again, I was afraid I’d fly across the room and punch him in the nose.

The second the credits started rolling, I jumped to my feet and headed for the stairs. “Thanks for letting me crash your party, but I have a feeling you two would rather be alone.”

My gut clenched when the words left my mouth. Why the hell had I said that? I didn’t want to give them any ideas.

As if Blake needed encouragement.

“Thanks, man,” he called, making me clench my hands into fists.

I went straight to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. It clicked, and I leaned against it for a few seconds, trying to get my body under control. It wasn’t going to work, though. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Bette and her sparkling green eyes and that little pout. Then there were her tits, which were perfect as far as I was concerned. My dick was so hard it felt like it was trying to rip through my jeans. I needed to take care of this.

I opened the door so I could go to my room, only to find her standing less than two feet from the door.

She jumped back, holding her hands up. “Oh! Sorry, I just came up to see if everything was okay.”

She tilted her head to the side as her eyes swept over me, and I said a silent prayer that she didn’t look down. Even more, I begged my eyes to stay on her face. If I looked at her tits, she’d know right away what I was thinking. And damn, if the thoughts in my head weren’t so filthy they could be featured as a story in Penthouse.

“Uh, yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Just need some time alone.” Her eyes narrowed and my face got warm. Did she know what I was about to do? “To think,” I said quickly. “You know, after seeing Annie today, my head’s all messed up.”

That thing flashed in her emerald eyes again, but she nodded. “Okay. I get it.”

She turned to go back downstairs and I let out a sigh of relief, but after two steps she stopped and turned back. “I just wanted to say thank you again. For the Fourth of July. I loved seeing your house, but meeting your family was the highlight of my day.”

“What?” I said, thinking I hadn’t heard her right. I didn’t have any blood going to my brain, after all.

“Meeting your family. It was nice. They didn’t judge me or act like they were disappointed in you for bringing me home. They treated me like there wasn’t anything wrong with the way I am.”

My heart constricted so hard that it physically hurt. “Is that what you think? That there’s something wrong with you?”

Bette smiled and gave a little shrug. “No, not really. But from my experience, I’d say that’s what other people think when they see me.”

Damn. If I ever saw anyone treat her like she wasn’t absolutely fucking perfect, I would beat the shit out of them.

“Bette,” I said, taking a step toward her, my rock-hard dick forgotten for a few seconds. “There is nothing wrong with you. I mean that. I didn’t think there was when we first met, and the more I get to know you, the more I realize how amazing you are.”

A smile broke out across her face that lit up her eyes and made the whole future seem brighter. “You are amazing, Chris. And that’s the truth. I haven’t met Annie, but I’m convinced she’s the dumbest chick in the world.”

I laughed as I backed toward my room, remembering that I had some pressing matters to take care of. “I’ll tell her that next time I see her.”

Bette threw her head back and laughed just as I turned to duck into my room. The door was half closed when she called, “Thanks for not jerking off in the bathroom!”

I shut the door and slumped against it, closing my eyes. “Shit.”

At least she couldn’t read my mind. If she realized I was thinking about her, she’d probably take off running. And it wasn’t just because I thought she was hot and every time I looked at her indecent thoughts went through my head. But because I’d finally accepted that I had real feelings for her. Feelings I’d never experienced before and still couldn’t put a name to.

Chapter Twenty

Bette

Blake grinned when I came down the stairs, his eyes glued to my legs. “I do like those little shorts.”

“You can thank the warm weather,” I said, settling onto the couch next to him, trying not to think about what Chris was doing upstairs or wonder what he was thinking about.

“Thank you, warm weather!” Blake yelled, throwing his head back so he was talking to the ceiling.

I laughed, but the sound died on my lips when he ran his hand up my bare thigh. His hands were a masculine mixture of soft and callused, and it should have been nice to have him touching me. I liked Blake and before the Fourth of July I had almost turned to Jell-O just imagining having his arms around me. But something had changed. Now, all I could think about was what it had felt like to have Chris trail his fingers up my side. To wonder if it had affected him as much as it had me. Was that why he’d been turned on just now? Me? It seemed unlikely when he was still so stuck on Annie. He was probably thinking about her right now. Wishing he had her back.

“You okay?” Blake asked, leaning closer.

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded and forced myself to think about the guy in front of me, not the one upstairs. Blake. Blake, who had been waiting a year for me to finally go out with him. Blake, who was caressing my skin, his fingers trailing dangerously close to the center of my body.

His mouth covered mine and I closed my eyes, trying to relax, trying to clear my head. When his tongue brushed against my lips, I opened my mouth, and he plunged inside. I followed his lead, tracing my tongue over his, and he grunted. His hand moved between my thighs, over the thin fabric of my shorts, and pleasure shot through me. I moved my body against his hand, hoping for more pressure. Then his lips left mine, moving down my neck.

I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. Thinking of Chris.

“Shit,” I muttered, pulling away. “Sorry. No. This isn’t happening.”

Blake frowned. “What? Why the hell not?”

There were about a dozen reasons going through my head, but most of them revolved around Chris, so I said the one thing that didn’t have anything to do with my roommate. “No sex. Remember?”

“Shit, Bette. We’ve been going out for months and you’ve barely let me touch you. I’m not going to force you to have sex with me, but maybe we could fool around a little? Things are turning blue!”

My face got so hot I was sure it was going to explode. I jumped to my feet and stepped away from Blake, who sat on the couch with his mouth hanging open. “You have a hand. If you’re going out with me just so you can get off, then you chose the wrong girl. That’s not me, and I told you that from the very beginning. Don’t try to act all shocked about this.”

Blake got up, but I backed farther away from him. “You told me no sex, but I didn’t know that was going to mean I wasn’t even allowed to touch you. Damn, Bette. Do you have any idea how shitty this makes me feel? I have a girlfriend who doesn’t want me to touch her. Like you’re disgusted by me or something.”

Some of my anger melted away, but not all of it. I kind of understood where he was coming from. It had to bruise a guy’s ego to hear no all the time. Especially these days.

I let out a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. “I’m sorry, okay? I get how this is frustrating for you, but I’m not going to compromise just to make you feel better. I didn’t make this decision lightly, I gave it a lot of thought. I want to be sure this is serious. Okay?”

“Okay.” Blake exhaled and ran his hand down his face. “Okay. I get it. I’m going to try to be more understanding. It’s tough with you pressed up against me like that. In case you didn’t know, you’re kind of hot.” He grinned when he looked up and I couldn’t help returning it.

“You know this has nothing to do with me not being attracted to you, right?’ I said, rolling my eyes. “I mean, damn, Blake. Have you seen yourself?”

He chuckled as he nodded. “I know, I’m a regular Greek god.”

“Close.”

Blake put his hands on my hips and pulled me closer. “So what can I do to convince you I’m serious?”

I chewed on my lip while I thought it through. To be honest, I knew he was serious. But I wasn’t. Of course, telling him that would probably be like kicking him in the crotch. Since things down there were already sore for him, that would probably be a bitch thing to do.

“I think it just takes time,” I said uncertainly.

“Fair enough. But what about my parents? You promised you were going to meet them. You aren’t going to back out, right? They come in two weeks, and I’m serious about introducing you. I want to prove to you that I’m in this for the long haul.”

My stomach clenched, but I wasn’t sure why. “Yeah. Of course I want to meet them.”

The closer I got to meeting Blake’s parents, the sicker I felt whenever I thought about it. Only I wasn’t sure if it had to do with Blake or if I was just nervous about how they’d react to me. Blake was laid-back about my tattoos; he even seemed to think the willow tree was sexy—he sure couldn’t stop running his fingers over the branches when we were lying on the couch together—so his parents would probably be okay with it. Right?

I thought back to all the parents I’d met while running my little business. All the shitty comments and reactions came screaming back, and for a few seconds I felt so bombarded I couldn’t talk. But that hadn’t been the real me on those dates, and I couldn’t go into this thing assuming Blake’s mom and dad would react the same way. This was different.

“What are your mom and dad like?” I asked as we walked down the crowded Charleston sidewalk, heading toward the bar. The grand introduction was happening the following day, and I couldn’t stop obsessing about it.

My camera was clutched to my side since I wanted to take a few pictures. Reed was out of town, but there was supposed to be some new chick singing tonight, and I was hoping she’d let me get some shots of her.

Blake’s arm was slung over my shoulders, and when he shrugged it pulled at my hair a little. “I don’t know. Parents? They’re older than we are and they eat dinner at five o’clock in the evening. They like to watch Game of Thrones.”

I rolled my eyes. Men. “That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” he said, chuckling.

“Are they conservative?”

“They’re Democrats.”

Geez. He was really helpful.

“Thanks a lot, Blake.”

“Sorry,” he replied with a chuckle. “To me they’re just Mom and Dad.”

“Forget it,” I said as we ducked into the bar.

I still had a dozen questions, but once we were inside it was too loud to talk. Blake headed off to get us drinks while I pushed my way to the back. The place was already busy, but I scanned the area as I headed through the crowd, looking for Chris. I’d barely seen him the last week, but we always came here on Friday nights. He had to show up. Right?

I spotted Sara, who was busy shaking her eyes on the dance floor, and headed her way.

“Hey,” I called over the music, trying to get her attention.

She smiled when she turned, then waved enthusiastically. “Bette! Good to see you.” She didn’t pause in her bouncing.

“Have you seen Chris?”

Sara shook her head and just then a friend danced up behind her. The second girl grabbed Sara’s hips and pulled her entire body against her. They gyrated together on the dance floor, drawing the attention of every male within twenty feet of them.

I turned away, unamused and still looking for Chris. He still hadn’t turned up by the time Blake came back with my beer.

“Thanks!” I called over the noise of the crowd.

The girl singing was a little more country than I typically liked, but this was the south. You were going to get some of that no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

I tapped my toe to the beat and kept my eyes on the front of the bar, but after fifteen minutes Chris still hadn’t showed. It was weird how little we’d seen each other lately. Like he was avoiding me or something.

I pulled out my phone and shot him a quick text, hoping he was just running late. The little blue text box popped up when I hit SEND, the word Delivered right underneath it. I sipped my beer, keeping one eye on the screen as I waited for a response, and only a minute later Delivered changed to Read. Again I waited, expecting the little gray dots to show up, indicating Chris was typing his response. It didn’t happen, but I couldn’t stop staring at my phone.

My toe tapped faster and I glanced toward the door, wondering if he was headed my way, grinning because I’d just texted him to ask where he was. Still no Chris, and ten minutes later, there was still no text.

“What’s wrong?” Blake asked.

I frowned and shoved my phone in my pocket. “It’s strange that Chris isn’t here.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Blake took a drink, looking less concerned about Chris’s absence than I was.

“Did you text him?”

“Earlier.” He shrugged. “Maybe three hours ago. Never heard back.”

Weird. It was like he was avoiding us both.

I took another drink and tried to focus on the girl performing, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on with Chris. We hadn’t been alone since he took me to his house, and with the exception of that quick conversation in the hallway after the three of us watched a movie, we hadn’t said more than two words to each other in more than a week.

My gaze moved to Blake, who was chatting with the guy next to him, and a nagging feeling began in the pit of my stomach. Chris had acted really weird that night. Did it have something to do with Blake and me? The possibility filled me with tingles that had no business being caused by my roommate.

Only that couldn’t be it. Chris was still hung up on Annie, I just knew it. He’d run into her that day and been in such a bad mood. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe being around another couple made him feel like shit. It was possible.

“Hey!” Blake called, his mouth so close to my ear that the words vibrated through my skull. “You ready to go? I have to get my parents soon.”

I was, but mainly because I was dying to know what was going on with Chris. “Yeah.”

We headed through the crowd, not talking until we were back out on the street. The air was sticky with humidity and within seconds my already moist skin beaded with even more sweat.

Blake grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers through mine as we walked the few blocks to my place. “Dinner tomorrow, right?”

My stomach tightened uncomfortably, but I forced myself to nod. “Of course.”

He glanced my way, then cleared his throat. “Um, listen. About earlier when you were asking what my parents were like . . .”

Everything inside me tightened even more. Why did I feel like I was about to get hit? “Yeah?”

“So, I got to thinking about it, and I guess you could kind of call them conservative. I mean, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way or anything, because I like you exactly how you are, but do you think you could wear long sleeves tomorrow night? Just so we could kind of ease them into the whole tattoo and piercings thing.”

My feet stopped moving and I jerked my hand out of his while everything inside me turned to stone. Was he kidding?

“No,” I said firmly, glaring at him out of the corner of my eye, but unable to turn to face him completely.

Blake grabbed my arm, forcing me to turn his way. He was frowning and looking at me like I was being totally unreasonable. Me!

“What’s the big deal?”

“You’re trying to get me to hide who I am,” I said, jerking my arm out of his grasp. “I’m not going to do that, Blake.”

He shook his head and exhaled like he was trying to stay calm. “No, I’m not. Be yourself in every way, just cover up the huge-ass tattoo on your arm.”

His words felt like they’d ripped me in half, and tears sprang to my eyes. It sounded so demeaning the way he said it. Like I was a freak in a sideshow and he wanted me to cover up some kind of major deformity.

“Are you ashamed of me?” I whispered, barely able to keep in the tears pooling in my eyes.

“Shit. No, baby.”

Blake wrapped me in a hug, and I was too hurt to pull away. I’d asked him not to call me baby. It reminded me of Jeff and it felt even worse now that he’d asked me to pretend to be someone else. Like we were strangers playing a part. Like he was one of my asshole clients.

“No. I told you, I like you. I think the tattoo’s hot.” He pulled back so he was looking me in the eye, but he kept his hands on my forearms. “But you have to admit, people who don’t know you are going to get a certain . . . impression of you.”

They were the exact same words my mom had said to me a hundred times before, and they were just as devastating coming from Blake as they had been coming from her.

My throat felt raw as I swallowed, trying to keep the sobs down. “What impression is that, exactly?”

“I don’t know . . .” He shrugged, and I braced myself, knowing that what he was about to say would tell me exactly what he’d thought of me when we’d first met. “Trashy. Slutty.”

There was no way to prepare myself for how much those two words hurt. They cut through me and went deep inside, like an arrow shooting through my heart. There they sat, lodged next to all the painful comments my mom had made over the years. All the statements that had piled up, telling me I wasn’t good enough the way I was. That I needed to be someone different.

I wiggled out of Blake’s grasp and stepped back as the pain inside me morphed into anger.

“I see,” I said, lacing the words with as much icy venom as I could. I wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt me.

“Come on, Bette. Don’t make such a big deal about this. It’s not like I’m asking you to take out the piercings or color your hair to something normal. It’s just a little thing.”

Blake swiped his hand over his head, and for the first time since we’d met I didn’t look at him and think he was hot. All I saw was a little boy who was too scared to stand up to his parents.

“No, Blake, it’s not a little thing. This is me.” I waved my hands down my body. “You take me how I am, or you don’t get me. The end. There’s no compromise when it comes to this.”

“Relationships take compromise if they’re going to work, Bette.”

Yes, there was some truth to that. Relationships needed give and take, and making it stick took hard work and compromise, but this wasn’t something I was willing to compromise on. Blake was asking me to be someone else so his parents would be okay with me, and I wasn’t okay with that.

I turned on my wedge heel and headed toward my house, leaving him standing in the middle of the sidewalk. “Goodbye, Blake.”

“Bette!”

He jogged after me, trying to take my hand, but I refused to let him. All this time I’d thought Blake was someone who could take me the way I was and love me no matter what, but he wasn’t. Maybe I’d been right all along. Maybe people couldn’t really accept each other. Maybe I just needed to go back to my no dating plan. I didn’t want someone who was out to change me, not after I’d worked so hard to figure out who I was.

Blake trailed behind me the whole way home, but I refused to talk to him. When we got to my house, he followed me to the door with his hands shoved in his pockets, staring at the ground. I didn’t say a word as I unlocked the front door.

When I swung it open, he tried to step inside, but I blocked him. “No, Blake. I was serious when I said goodbye. I’d rather be alone forever than be with someone who can’t love me for who I am, which you obviously can’t.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I held up my hand. “If you did, you would be willing to stand up to your mom and dad for me.”

Blake exhaled and shook his head. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s done.”

I stepped back, but before I could shut the door he grabbed my arm. “I’m sorry, okay. I’m an ass. But I’m starting to think this doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I jerked my arm out of his grasp and reached for the door, fighting the urge to slam it in his face.

Blake ran his hand through his hair. “You can’t even see it.”

“See what?” I asked. What the hell was he getting at?

“Chris.” My eyebrows shot up and Blake let out a deep breath. “Seeing you two together has been driving me insane, but for a long time I had myself convinced I was being irrational. That you were just friends. But I think all three of us have been fooling ourselves for weeks now. You’re in love with him.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” I reached for the door once again. Blake had hurt my feelings, but he couldn’t even own up to what he’d done, which pissed me off even more. “This conversation is over. Goodbye, Blake.”

I slammed the door in his face, but once it was shut I couldn’t figure out how I felt. Hurt, yes. But there was more to it than that, and I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there had been some truth to Blake’s words. Chris and I were friends, but even I had to admit there was more to it than just that most of the time. Exactly what, I wasn’t sure of quite yet.

I trudged up the stairs, and it wasn’t until I got there and saw Chris’s door cracked that I remembered he didn’t show at the bar. Suddenly I wanted to talk to him more than I’d ever wanted to talk to anyone in my entire life. Things with Chris were easy and natural, and I’d never had a relationship like that before. Even with my girlfriends back in high school.

I tapped lightly on the doorframe before sticking my head inside. “Hey.”

Chris was sprawled out on his bed typing away on his computer, and when he looked up, the smile he gave me looked like it hurt him. “Hey.”

“Where were you tonight?” I asked, working hard to keep the hurt out of my voice. “I texted you.”

He cleared his throat and glanced away. “The bar, oh yeah. Totally forgot. Um, I didn’t get the text. My phone must be on silent.” He shrugged, and even if I hadn’t already known he was lying, his red cheeks would have given him away.

I looked down and crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself. “Oh. Okay.”

If he’d been there to walk home with us, Blake wouldn’t have brought up the whole thing with his parents and I wouldn’t be feeling like shit right now. Still, as much as it hurt, I was glad to know the truth about how Blake felt.

It didn’t feel very good, though.

“You all right?” Chris asked, forcing me to look up. He was frowning and all the awkwardness had melted away.

“Shitty night,” I said, leaning against the door frame, suddenly wishing I could curl up on the bed with him.

Chris accepted me for who I was. Always had. He hadn’t asked me to be someone else when he’d taken me home with him. But we hadn’t been dating. Had Blake’s request really been that unreasonable? Was it normal to put on a façade and pretend to be someone else at the beginning of a relationship? I hadn’t needed to do that with Chris’s family. Then there was the bomb Blake had dropped right before I’d slammed the door in his face. Was I in love with Chris?

“Let me ask you a question,” I said, holding Chris’s gaze. “How much do you think you should change for a person if you really care about them? I mean, there has to be some give and take in a relationship, so it only makes sense that the people in it would change a little. Right?”

Chris frowned and his eyes swept over me, leaving behind goose bumps that seemed to not only cover every inch of my body, but also my soul. “I think if you love a person enough, it will change you. No one who really loves you would want you to change who you are to fit into their world, but if you love another person you will change without even realizing it. Because it will be for the better.”

My throat tightened at the serious tone in his voice. Annie. It always came back to Annie for him, and until now I didn’t realize how much it bothered me. But it did, and it had me thinking Blake might have had a point.

“Did falling in love change you?” I whispered.

His whole face dropped like thinking about it hurt too much to bear. “The woman I fell in love with changed everything about me and my life and the way I see the world. She doesn’t have a clue what she’s done to me.”

“She’s a fool,” I whispered as tears sprang to my eyes.

Chris moved toward me and his laptop toppled off his legs, almost falling on the floor. He didn’t seem to care because he didn’t look away from my face. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Must be PMS.”

I wiped at my eyes, knowing I was probably smearing eyeliner all over the place, but unable to care because the tears wouldn’t go away. I had to get out of here before I made an even bigger fool of myself.

I backed toward the door, shaking my head so he wouldn’t get up and follow me and make me even more vulnerable than I already was. “I’ll leave you alone. You look busy. Thanks for talking to me.”

Somehow I made it to my room before the tears really started to come. I wasn’t sure if I was crying over Blake or Chris, though. Blake’s words had hurt, but thinking things were over between us didn’t affect me the way it should have. A person should be upset when they go through a break-up, right?

Then there was Chris. Things between us had been so confused lately, but standing in front of him the truth had hit me so hard it had almost knocked me on my ass. Blake was right. I liked Chris. Maybe more than just liked him. We’d been living together for months, spending days and nights with each other, acting more like boyfriend and girlfriend than I had with anyone before. It only made sense that feelings might develop, but that wasn’t even the part that blew me away. What really had me reeling was the simple fact that Chris liked me for me. He’d taken me to meet his parents—who had accepted me—without even the smallest hesitation. He never would have considered asking me to put on a long-sleeved shirt.

But Chris was still impossibly hung up on a girl who didn’t love him.

Chapter Twenty-one

Chris

The thought of talking to Ryan made me want to puke, but it had to happen. I’d let the whole thing drag on long enough, and now that I knew I wasn’t actually in love with Annie, I needed to put it behind me and move forward. What had Bette’s tattoo said? Oh, yeah: inhale the future, exhale the past. That was a helluva good motto for my life right now.

When I finally made up my mind to do it, I didn’t even bother texting Ryan ahead of time. I just headed out, making my way through the crowds clogging downtown Charleston with my stomach lodged in my throat, sweating like crazy. His apartment seemed like the most logical place to talk because I couldn’t see us hashing it out at Starbucks, and meeting somewhere public seemed like something you do when you’re going to dump somebody.

When I reached his building, I took a couple deep breaths while I tried to work up the nerve. I was still sweating when I pressed the buzzer, but I blamed that on the heat.

Less than a minute later Ryan’s voice came over the speaker, “Yeah?”

“Hey,” I said, then cleared my throat. “It’s Chris.”

There was a pause, which wasn’t unexpected, then the door buzzed at the exact same time Ryan said, “Come on up, man.”

I didn’t respond, but I did go in. Of course, I was dragging my feet on the way up.

Ryan lived on the second floor, and I needed the walk between the front door and his apartment to gather my thoughts one last time. I knew what I wanted to say in theory and I had practiced it a million times over the last week, but once he was standing in front of me things might change. I might lose my nerve.

His door was cracked when I finally got there, just like old times, and I went in without knocking. Ryan stood in the middle of the room, holding a beer. A second one sat on the bar.

“Beer?” he said, licking his lips nervously.

I nodded, but had to look away when all the pain I’d felt the last time I was here came back so hard it took my breath away. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Ryan didn’t pick it up for me, so I walked across the room to get it. He didn’t say a word as I lifted the bottle to my lips, and the room was so quiet it made me jumpy. We needed some noise. Something to ease the tension until I could get the words bouncing around in my head out.

“Baseball on?” I asked, heading for the couch.

“Yeah.”

Ryan followed me, picking the remote up just as I threw myself onto the couch. I took a drink but the beer didn’t sit well, and the second it hit my stomach it felt like it was going to jump back out. Especially when I looked at Ryan.

He settled into the chair as he flipped through the channels. It took him exactly twenty-two seconds to find ESPN, which I knew because I was counting down in my head. A baseball game came on, already well into the game, and Ryan set down the remote. Then we just sat there.

The clock was ticking. Ryan finished his beer, but the bottle I held was still full. I was slowly peeling off the label as the game slipped away, doing everything in my power to avoid talking. Every now and then Ryan would look my way, twisting his empty bottle between his hands nervously.

When the seventh inning stretch started, Ryan finally said, “You want me to say something first?”

I cleared my throat, but kept my eyes glued to the screen. My throat was insanely dry. “No. I want you to stay quiet and listen to what I have to say.”

“Fair enough.” He set his bottle down and sat back.

I took a deep breath, and when I exhaled, the words poured out of me. “I thought I loved her, which shouldn’t surprise you because I told you that. I was wrong. I know that now, but that doesn’t change what happened. You were my best friend, have been since we were nine. Of everyone in my life, you were the last person I thought would screw me over.” Ryan flinched, but he kept up his end of the deal and didn’t talk, which I appreciated. “You should have just talked to me about it.”

It wasn’t what I’d planned to say, but it was close enough. Saying it made me feel . . . better. The weight that had been pressing me down for so long wasn’t as heavy, and when I looked at Ryan I wasn’t as pissed off. I even managed to take a sip of my beer and not feel like I was going to puke.

He was quiet for almost a full minute, then he cleared his throat. “Can I talk now?”

I nodded and took another sip, my body involuntarily tensing while I waited.

“I’m an asshole, okay? But when Annie and I met, there was an instant connection. What she’d been through, what I’d been through.. . we understood each other before either one of us knew the whole story. But you liked her, so I tried to stay away. I swear I did. But we found ourselves together so many times that it just snowballed, and she had that list and damn if I didn’t want to be there for her to help her through it all.” He swallowed and looked down. “I want everything to be okay between us, but you have to tell me what to do. Do you want to hear exactly what happened?”

I shook my head, even though I wasn’t sure what I wanted. “I don’t know. No. Yes.”

“I kissed her,” Ryan said, not even hesitating. “That night we had her birthday party here, I was her first kiss. You were her date and I was your best friend and I was a total asshole, and I kissed Annie.”

The words poured out of him like he’d been dying to get them in the open, and my back stiffened when all the anger I’d managed to let go came slamming back into me.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said, squeezing the beer bottle between my hands so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised if it shattered.

Ryan scooted forward in his chair. “I’m a dick, okay? I couldn’t stay away from her! You said you wanted to hear the truth.”

I got to my feet, shaking my head, walking farther away from him. I didn’t know where I was going, so I just paced. “I changed my mind. Keep it to yourself.”

Ryan got up but stayed in front of his chair. “You said you don’t have feelings for her anymore. Tell me that’s true. Please.”

“I don’t. Maybe I never did, not like I thought.”

“I love her, man. If I could, I’d marry her now. I can’t wait to start our life together, but I can’t stand you hating me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I said, freezing. Staring at the floor. Counting the specks in the carpet while I worked to calm down. “I want us to be okay.”

“I’m sorry. I will do anything to make this right.”

I nodded, then took a sip of the beer I was holding. The liquid slid down my throat and this time when it hit my stomach, it didn’t hurt as much. I took another drink, then another, and when my bottle was empty I went into the kitchen to get a second one. Ryan was still standing in front of his chair.

“You stay here all summer?” I called, popping the top off my bottle, trying to push the heat in my body away so I could look Ryan in the eye without exploding again.

“Yeah.”

“Liam go home?” I took a sip, then exhaled and shut the fridge. Every second that passed helped me calm down.

“Staying at his dad’s beach house,” Ryan said. “Annie’s staying with me.”

I laughed when the words didn’t feel like a knife cutting right through me, then grabbed a beer for Ryan before turning to head out of the kitchen. “That’s cool.”

Ryan was still standing in front of his chair when I came out with the two bottles. He stared at my hands, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Beer,” I said, holding it out.

“Thanks, man.”

Ryan took the bottle and we settled into the couch. The silence wasn’t as comfortable as it had been a few years ago, but it wasn’t as awkward as it had been the other day. That’s what we needed to fix this. Time.

“So how’s the new place?” Ryan asked.

“Good,” I said, nodding.

“How’s living with a chick?” He raised his eyebrows as he lifted his beer to his lips.

I chuckled, and a little more tension melted away. “Not bad. I thought it would be weird, but to be honest, I like it. Plus . . .” I shrugged when I thought of Bette and how much things had changed.

Ryan’s mouth fell open and he stared at me for a few seconds before saying, “You like her.”

“I think I love her,” I said, then laughed. I hadn’t even admitted it to myself until now, but as soon as the words were out I knew it was true. “I know how that sounds after everything with Annie, but damn. I can’t stop thinking about Bette. Every time something happens to me she’s the first person I want to tell. I see a girl, and all I can do is compare her to Bette.”

“And no one measures up?”

“Not even close.” I took a drink, marveling at my own stupidity. How had I not seen this earlier?

“You gotta tell her,” Ryan said.

“She’s dating my friend.” I laughed and shook my head. I was the biggest idiot in the world. “I guess I keep falling for the wrong girl.”

“You never know, man. Look at me.” Ryan choked out a laugh when I turned to look at him. “Sorry, man. That was . . .”

“The truth,” I muttered. “It was the truth, and I was a damn idiot for not talking to you about all this before.”

“We all do dumb shit, but I’m going to tell you one thing. The dumbest thing you could ever do is let her walk away. You have to tell her how you feel or you’ll hate yourself for the rest of your life. If she says no, it’s going to hurt like hell, but if she says yes . . .”

Ryan grinned and I smiled, even though I knew the chance of Bette saying yes was so small it was practically microscopic. But he was right. It didn’t matter whether or not she was dating Blake, I had to talk to her about how I felt. I needed her to know.

Walking into the bar with Ryan and Liam felt a little surreal, but nice. Plus, I was glad that at least one area of my life had gotten less complicated. I still had a few things to work out, but knowing things were finally okay between Ryan and me was better than nothing.

We headed to the bar, but it was so crowded that we had to push our way through. Steve was in the middle of mixing a drink, but he nodded when he saw me. I leaned against the counter while I waited for him, trying to see over the crowd to where I knew Bette would be sitting. Reed was on the stage singing, but as usual the place was too packed to be able to see the tables. Bette had to be over there. This was our usual Friday thing.

“Hey, man,” Steve said when he stopped in front of me, my usual Guinness held in his hand. “Your girl’s already here.”

My stomach clenched when he referred to Bette as my girl. I liked it, even if it wasn’t true, and I didn’t correct him. We were always here together, so it made sense that he thought we were a couple. Plus, I was hoping it would end up being true.

“Thanks,” I said, taking my beer and nodding to Ryan and Liam. “What do you guys want?”

They put their orders in while I drummed my fingers on the bar, getting more and more nervous as the seconds passed. It wasn’t just the thought of talking to Bette, it was the thought of seeing her with Blake after realizing how much I wanted her for myself. I’d managed to avoid them both since realizing how I felt, trading shifts with other people so I didn’t have to look Blake in the eye and feel like an asshole, but I was ready for that to be over.

“You’re a bloody big shot around here. Don’t even have to order,” Liam said the second Steve headed off to get their drinks.

I rolled my eyes, but he just grinned. “I come here with Bette a lot. She photographs the bands.”

“She here now?” Ryan asked.

Before I could answer, he was looking past me to the front of the bar, his attention suddenly on something else. I knew without having to turn that Annie and Cami had arrived. My back stiffened against my will, but I took a deep breath, praying the earlier indifference I had felt when I saw Annie was still around, that I could be friends with Ryan and not look at Annie as anything more than a girl I went out with a few times.

I was holding my breath when I turned to find Cami bouncing toward us with a huge smile on her face, her dark hair swishing behind her. I expected her to throw herself into Liam’s arms, but when she got closer I noticed she was staring right at me.

Her body slammed against mine so hard that I stumbled back a few steps and almost lost the grip on my beer. “Chris!” she cried, so loud that I swear half the people in the bar turned to look at us. “I’m so glad you decided to forgive my idiot cousin.” Then her lips smacked against my cheek and I busted out laughing. Leave it to Cami to break the tension.

Liam untangled her arms from around me and pulled her back. “Careful, love. You know how jealous I get.”

She rolled her eyes before planting a big kiss on his lips. Ryan groaned and Liam grinned down at her like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen, but all I could do was stare. Things sure had changed in a just a few months. Liam had never really been the relationship type, but then again, neither had Cami.

Steve came back with drinks just as I turned to face Annie for the first time. She twisted a chunk of blond hair around her fingers and gave me a nervous smile that reminded me of the girl I’d met back in the fall. The girl who had been shy and unsure, who hadn’t worn makeup and thought a Steelers t-shirt was the perfect thing to wear when she was going out. She had changed, but then again, so had I. The things I’d thought I’d always wanted—a girl who could follow football and who looked sweet and innocent—had turned out to be so wrong. Now I knew exactly what I wanted, and the reason behind it had nothing to do with sharing a similar interest or what she looked like. It was just her. Bette. There didn’t need to be anything else.

“Hey,” Annie said, chewing on her bottom lip.

Her cheeks were red—probably from the awkward situation—and the dress she wore hugged every one of her curves. They were curves I’d stared at so many times. Curves I’d wanted to caress, curves I’d dreamt about. They should have had some kind of an effect on me, but staring at her right now, the only thing I felt was disappointment over having waited so long to clear things up.

“I’m glad you could make it tonight,” I said, returning her smile.

Annie’s honey-colored eyes lit up, and some of her nervousness melted away. “You are?”

“Yeah.” I sighed and shook my head as I tried to find the words to ease her worries. But not just that. I needed to apologize for how things had gone down. “Look, I know now that I put a lot of pressure on you to be something you weren’t, and I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

Annie’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head, her eyes bigger than ever. “No, you weren’t! I should have told you I had feelings for Ryan. I was afraid to hurt you and I was so confused, and there was so much going on in my life. I should have told you all of it. It would have saved us all so much trouble.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Not anymore.”

Annie put her hand on my arm, rubbing it the way someone would a child’s who had gotten hurt. “It matters to me. I’m sorry I hurt you, Chris.”

“I’m not. I know it sounds nuts, but if I hadn’t been through all that I wouldn’t have moved, and meeting Bette . . .” I shook my head, then took a sip of my beer because there really weren’t any words to describe how I felt.

Annie’s eyes lit up and the smile she gave me looked genuine and relaxed for the first time. “So you’re happy?”

I chuckled. “Getting there, but I’m learning you don’t always want what you think you want. Which is a shitty lesson to learn, but a good one.”

“We going to stand here all day yapping?” Ryan said, stepping up beside Annie. “I thought we came to hear some guy sing.”

He slid his arm around her waist, and Annie glanced at me shyly, but I just shrugged. It didn’t bug me in the least.

“Reed’s great!” Cami called, bouncing through the crowd, dragging Liam with her.

I followed Cami, my heart pounding harder and harder the closer we got. I’d avoided Bette all week. At first I did it because I hadn’t been sure how I felt, then it was because I wasn’t sure how to tell her how I felt, but I couldn’t keep doing it. Sooner or later I was going to have to put myself out there and let her make a choice. If she chose Blake, it was time to move on. I couldn’t repeat the mistakes I’d already made with Ryan, as much as it would hurt to walk away from her.

The crowd thinned as we closed in on the stage, and I caught sight of Bette sitting by herself at a table. She looked up, almost as if she sensed I was here, and a smile spread across her face. It was so damn beautiful it made my heart stop beating.

I walked faster, passing the others so I could get to Bette first and introduce her to everyone. She’d told me so many times to get over myself and make up with Ryan, and suddenly I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she realized I’d finally done it. Not only that, I wanted her to know that I was over Annie. That I knew it had all been stupid and I was ready to move on.

She stood when I stopped in front of her, moving close so she could talk over the noise in the bar. “I was hoping you’d show up.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said, looking around. My heart was beating so fast I had a hard time keeping still. “Where’s Blake?”

“Not here.” She made that pouty face I loved so much, and I swear I almost kissed her right there. “We—”

“You planning on keeping her all to yourself?” Liam asked, elbowing my arm as he came to a stop next to me.

I glared at him as I rubbed the sore spot he’d left behind, but as usual Liam wasn’t deterred. “Yeah, yeah.” I turned back to face Bette, smiling. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction. “Bette, you remember Liam and Cami,” I said, hooking my thumb to the left before turning to face my best friend and ex-girlfriend. “And this is Ryan and Annie.”

Bette’s eyes got huge and her mouth dropped open, and for almost a full ten seconds she couldn’t react. Then she broke into a smile. “It’s about time!”

I laughed, but practically choked on it when she threw her arms around my neck. Her breasts felt amazing against my chest, and even though I tried to control myself, I found my arms wrapping around her and pulling her closer.

Chapter Twenty-two

Bette

My heart was pounding harder than the beat of the music as the six of us settled around the table. It was crowded, so I found myself pressed up against Chris, which was the best place I could imagine being. His leg was against mine, and the nearness made my whole body come alive.

“So when did this happen?” I asked, raising my voice to be heard over the music. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

Chris leaned closer to me so he didn’t have to yell. “We talked it out this afternoon. I wanted to surprise you.”

I beamed up at him, fighting the urge to put my hand on his. “You did!”

Across the table from us, Annie leaned over and gave Ryan a kiss, and Chris didn’t bat an eye. Knowing it didn’t bug him caused hope to bloom in my chest. Maybe everything would work out the way I wanted it to after all.

I leaned closer until my lips were only an inch from Chris’s ear and warmth moved through me. “You’re okay with this?”

When I pulled back, he was smiling down at me. “Surprisingly, yes.”

I couldn’t say a word. When had things changed with him? He’d been hung up on Annie for so long that I couldn’t wrap my brain around the sudden difference. But it was obvious he was telling the truth, and it made the heat moving through me even more intense.

It had been a week since Blake and I had broken up, and the passing time had proven one thing to me. I didn’t care. Yes, in the beginning I’d been attracted to him, and maybe if Chris hadn’t come along that would still be true. Maybe I could have even overlooked his blunder about my tattoos and forgiven him, but I couldn’t now. Chris had ruined me for other guys.

Only he didn’t know Blake and I were over and he didn’t know that every time I thought about the future he was the one standing by my side. I’d been dying to tell him all week, but he’d been avoiding me. There was no other explanation for it. Every time I thought we’d cross paths he’d been mysteriously absent. His hours at work had stretched out longer than usual, and he’d spent more time out of the house than he had since the first month he lived with me. I’d missed him more than I expected to.

Chris was still smiling at me. It was a crooked, goofy grin that probably made him look stupid to other people, but I loved it. It made me remember something he’d said to me once months ago, after the night he’d tried to kill himself with alcohol.

If you really love someone, you love all of them. Even the stuff that most people find annoying or weird or unattractive.

“I—”

I was just about to tell Chris about breaking up with Blake when Cami grabbed my arm. “You have to tell me where you got this tattoo!” she called over the noise of the bar. “Annie got one without me”—she shot Annie a pout that reminded me of a toddler who hadn’t gotten her way—“and I’m dying to get one now. This is gorgeous!”

She ran her hand down my arm, right over the willow tree tattoo, making me laugh. There was a lightness about Cami that made her instantly likeable. Liam too. I hadn’t made up my mind about Ryan and Annie yet, though. It was probably due to the fact that I’d heard so many bad things about them, but every time I looked at them I felt like scowling. I knew it was stupid since Chris was so obviously over it, but I couldn’t help disliking them a little. After all, they had hurt the guy I loved.

Still, as the night passed and more drinks were poured and I got to know them a little better, I found myself softening toward them. It helped when the three guys went off to the bar to get another round of drinks and I found myself alone with the other two girls.

“So how is it living with Chris?” Cami asked, grinning wickedly.

I laughed as I played with the stem of my empty glass. “It’s great, actually. I’m a neat freak and—”

“Then you are lucky!” Cami grabbed my arm. “Chris is so uptight he could get a job as a health inspector. He must be a dream roommate for you!”

“He’s . . .” I paused, chewing on my bottom lip while I tried to figure out what to say without spilling the beans about how I felt. I knew I needed to talk to Chris about that before anyone else. “Something I never knew I needed.”

Annie smiled and Cami’s brown eyes flashed. “You like him. I knew it!”

My cheeks flushed and I looked over my shoulder, but the guys were nowhere in sight. When I turned back, both the girls were staring at me expectantly.

“I like him,” I said, lowering my voice so it was barely audible over the music in the bar. “But I haven’t talked to him about it yet, and until today I thought he was still in love with—” The words died on my lips and my face flushed when I realized the person in question was right in front of me.

Annie waved my embarrassment off. “Forget it. Ryan and Chris had a big talk, but I wasn’t sure how things would be between the two of us until tonight. But seriously, the second I started talking to Chris I knew he was totally over it. He’s like a different person!”

Annie twisted her blond hair around her hand and smiled. She was pretty. Prettier than I’d expected, that’s for sure. Not because I thought Chris couldn’t have an attractive ex, but because I’d had such a low opinion of her that it had distorted her image in my mind. Like just because she didn’t love Chris the way I did she should be covered in warts or something.

“So it really is okay?” I said slowly, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that Chris and I were both free. It seemed too good to be true.

Annie and Cami nodded emphatically and I started laughing as tears sprang to my eyes. I didn’t even know what I was crying about.

I was still laughing when the guys broke through the crowd. Chris’s eyes met mine and when he smiled, it lit up the room.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, setting my cosmo in front of me.

“Just telling Bette about the time we all went skinny dipping!” Cami said, beaming.

Chris frowned like he didn’t believe her, but none of the other four seemed to notice. It was like they had all been sucked into the past and were reliving the moment. Ryan’s eyes moved over Annie and she gave him a smile that somehow managed to exude sex and innocence at the same time. Cami and Liam were the opposite, though. She whispered something in his ear and he grinned at her, then they were kissing, making out like we weren’t in the middle of a bar and no one else could see them. Ryan groaned and Annie snickered behind her hand, and Chris looked at them like he couldn’t figure out what was going on. But all I could do was stare at Chris and think about all the things I had to say to him. All the moments that had passed between us, that had seemed like nothing, but I now knew I’d treasure for the rest of my life.

The music cut out and Reed said something into the microphone, his voice low and sexy. I couldn’t even register what it was; I was too focused on Chris. But when the music started again it was slower and more romantic. A couple at the table next to us got up and went to the open area next to the stage where they started dancing, holding each other like they couldn’t get close enough.

“Dance with me,” I said, my lips brushing Chris’s ear.

When he looked my way, our eyes met and it felt like the world had started over for me. Before now, there had been nothing. No exes or wasted moments or insecurities. My past was erased and all there had ever been was just me and Chris. But more importantly, that’s all there ever would be again, because I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the man I was meant to spend the rest of my life with.

He smiled back and I slipped my hand into his, pulling him with me toward the other couples now dancing together in front of the stage. I wrapped my arms around his neck as Chris rested his hands on my hips, holding me tight and secure against him. The air in the bar was already hot, but the second we started moving, it got warmer. Heating up as our bodies moved together, my chest pressed against his and our eyes locked.

Cami and Liam joined us on the dance floor, then Ryan and Annie, and for some reason it made the whole thing feel more complete. Like Chris had finally put the past behind him as well and was ready to move forward. Hopefully with me at his side.

“It was nice to meet Ryan finally,” I said just loud enough that he could hear it.

“I’m glad you got to,” he replied, giving me a nervous smile that made my heart flutter. “I should have listened to you sooner, I guess.”

The music swelled as the song moved on, and I said a silent prayer that Reed would keep going forever. I had so much I wanted to say and if it got too loud I wouldn’t be able to talk.

“So what brought all this on?”

Chris shook his head like he couldn’t believe what an idiot he’d been. “Remember that day I was in a shitty mood because I’d run into them?”

The day he’d watched a movie with Blake and me. How could I forget it? I couldn’t stop thinking about him, not even long enough to let my own boyfriend kiss me. “Yeah, of course.”

“Well, when I saw Annie that day I realized I didn’t have feelings for her anymore. I was still pissed at Ryan, but when I looked at Annie. . .” He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“That’s good,” I said, tightening my grip on him as hope swirled inside me.

The music stopped and around us people clapped. I didn’t move because I couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go. Being in his arms, even in the middle of a crowded bar, just felt right. Natural. Around us, the other couples dancing moved away, going back to their seats, but Chris and I didn’t budge. We just stared at each other as Reed talked, saying something into his mic about the next song or his next gig or his future or some nonsense I didn’t care a thing about.

Chris took a deep breath and his hands flexed on my hips. His brown eyes were so intense and we were so close that I could feel his heart beating against my chest.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he said.

“I wanted to talk to you about something, too,” I whispered.

Then the music started again. It was louder and had a beat that pounded through my head, but it was still slow enough that we could dance to it. But we couldn’t talk over it, not the way we had been. If we wanted to carry on a conversation now we’d have to yell, and I didn’t want that. I just wanted to be in Chris’s arms.

His hand moved up my back as his grip on me tightened, pulling me against him. Without thinking, I laid my head against his shoulder. Our bodies drifted across the bar together, unaware of anyone around us. Then I found my fingers moving, running up his neck and through his hair. I was close enough to hear it when Chris’s breath hitched in his throat. I pulled back so I could see him and our eyes met. The air between us sizzled with electricity and my heart took off, beating so hard I was sure it had sprung wings and was about to fly away.

I couldn’t wait another second, so I raised myself up on the tips of my toes and pressed my lips against his. Chris’s arms tightened around me as he gave himself into the kiss, his mouth moving against mine.

Seconds, minutes, hours, years passed. I’m not sure how long because every moment before that one didn’t matter even a little bit. We kissed in the middle of the bar, ignoring everyone and everything around us as our tongues tangled together and our hearts beat in perfect rhythm. But too quickly it was over and Chris was pulling back, his eyes big as he shook his head.

“Blake,” he said, his voice barely audible over the swell of the music.

“We broke up,” I said before he could say anything else.

Chris froze and I held my breath while I waited for his response, praying I hadn’t misread the situation. That he really did care about me as much as I cared about him.

“You broke up?” he finally said.

I nodded, then pushed a mass of red hair back when it fell across my eye. “Last weekend. He asked me to wear a long-sleeved shirt when I met his parents, and all I could think about was how you’d always accepted me for exactly who I am. You didn’t ask me to pretend to be someone else when you took me home.”

“You broke up,” Chris said again, blinking like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard me right.

“Yes!” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the crowd. Away from the dance floor and the music and the alcohol and the prying eyes of his friends and every other person in the bar.

By the time we made it outside, I was panting from the stress of not knowing what was going through Chris’s head. I’d expected him to throw his arms around me and kiss me, or cheer, or at least smile, but so far all he had done was stare at me like he couldn’t quite figure out what language I was speaking, and it was making me insane.

The air was sticky and of course the sidewalk was packed, so I pulled him away from the door and the drunk college students crowded around the entrance. When we were relatively alone, I turned to face him. He was staring at the ground. Then he raised his head and our eyes met and everything around us froze.

Without warning, Chris grabbed me and pulled me to him, crushing his lips against mine. It shocked me so much that it took me a second to respond, but once my brain caught up I kissed him back, allowing my body to mold to his. Wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close, my breasts pressed firmly against his chest.

For a few minutes we stayed that way, standing on the sidewalk in the middle of Charleston making out like two high school students. Then he pulled back and stared down at me, clutching my face between his hands.

“I’ve been going crazy thinking about the two of you together. You have no idea. I haven’t been able to look at you without thinking—” He broke off and a smile spread across his face. The heat that flashed in his eyes made me shiver with desire. “Well, a lot of dirty things that we don’t need to go into right now.”

“When?” I asked, shaking my head, trying to pick out a time when his feelings for me had changed. “When did you start to feel something?”

“Ever since that night we watched The Exorcist. You were right up against me, so close. You smelled so good, and every time you moved I could feel your nipples against my arm. You were driving me crazy. I don’t think I saw more than ten seconds of that movie.”

Chris laughed and I joined in, feeling lighter than I ever had in my entire life.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, why?” His hands were still on my face and his thumbs caressed my cheeks, making me feel like a precious work of art.

“It was that night for me too, only a little later. You remember when you woke me up because I was having a bad dream?” He nodded, and my face flushed just thinking about it. I knew I would tell him, but for a second I couldn’t get the words out because the memory was too hot, too vivid and life altering to say out loud. “I wasn’t having a bad dream, I was dreaming about you.”

His eyes grew big with disbelief, but less than a second later something else flashed in them. It was like he knew what I was about to say and it made him as hot as it made me. “You were dreaming about me?”

“You were on top of me,” I whispered, keeping my voice low so no one passing us would hear, “kissing me. Then you reached inside my underwear. When I woke up, I was touching myself.”

Chris’s hands fell from my face. “Holy shit. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It was so hot,” I said, standing on my tiptoes, pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth. “Having you against me. It felt so real. Everything changed after that.”

Chris groaned and his hands slid around my waist. When my body was pulled tightly against his, the hard length of his dick rubbed against my stomach. It made me hot. So, so hot. And I wanted him. So much more than I’d ever wanted anyone before.

Of course, not only were we standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but I had rules. It was something we needed to talk about.

I untangled myself from his arms and stepped back, looking over my shoulder and scanning the area for a taxi. We needed to get home and we needed to talk. There were so many things I wanted to say and so many different ways to say them, but none of it could happen on the street.

“We should go home,” I said, waving down a cab.

Chris’s eyebrows shot up and he pulled his phone out of his back pocket while simultaneously moving me toward the road. His fingers flew across the screen and I could only assume was sending a text to Ryan. Then a cab stopped in front of us and we were sliding inside. Normally we would walk, but I was in a hurry and couldn’t stand the thought of letting the heat between us settle too much.

Chris shut the door and I told the driver the address, then we were moving. I scooted closer, touching him the way I’d never been able to before, my hands on his chest and arms and shoulders, moving up the side of his face until I was pulling his lips back to mine. The ride went by in a blur of heat, then we were home. But still, I couldn’t stop touching him.

We stumbled inside, our lips moving together so frantically that I could hardly catch my breath. My hands moved to the buttons of Chris’s shirt, and he tried to shove them away, but I wouldn’t let up until they were undone and my palms were on his bare chest. It was firm and muscular, and touching him was a million times more satisfying than I’d ever imagined.

Somehow, we ended up on the couch, me on my back with Chris on top of me, our lips moving so fast it made my head spin and our hands in so many places at once that I could hardly keep track of where he’d touched me and where he hadn’t. Things were quickly getting out of control, but not once did I hesitate. Being with Chris felt more natural than anything I’d ever done in my entire life, and when his hand slid up my stomach to cup my breast I let it happen. Then my shirt was gone and my bra immediately followed. When his mouth closed over my nipple my whole body jerked. I gasped and moaned and writhed under him as his tongue moved over my body. My skin heated up and the skirt I was wearing felt like it was covering entirely too much of my body. I pushed Chris away so I could arch my back and unzip it, then shoved it down, leaving me in nothing but a red thong. His eyes moved over me hungrily, taking in every inch of my bare flesh, and still I didn’t blink.

Then he was kissing me again, his body settled between my legs, moving against me until I felt like I was going to explode. I wanted more, but the only word I could get out was his name. It was nothing more than a strangled sound that begged him for more. Thankfully, Chris could read between the lines, because he moved over, settling his body next to me on the couch, his lips never leaving mine as he pushed my thong down my legs. It was still around my knees when his hand moved between my thighs, and within seconds I was moaning, totally unable to control myself as his expert fingers teased me to the brink of ecstasy.

“Chris,” I said against his lips, finally finding my voice. “Please tell me you have a condom.”

His fingers stopped moving and he pulled back, his eyes searching mine. “I thought you had a no-sex rule.”

“What?” It took me a few seconds to realize that Blake must have told him, and once I did I had the urge to punch that asshole in the face. I shook my head and said, “No. I don’t have a no-sex rule, I just want to wait until I’m sure I’m serious about someone.”

His brown eyes searched mine and a little smile turned up his mouth. “And you’re serious about me?”

I laughed, which for some crazy reason didn’t feel the least bit out of place, even though I was totally naked and Chris was on the way to being there. “Are you kidding? I’m in love with you, Chris.”

“You are?” he said

For brief second I could have slapped myself on the forehead. How could I have been so dumb? What if I scared him away?

Then his smile got bigger and he pressed his lips against mine again, kissing me with even more passion than before. “I love you.” He pulled back just enough that the words were a whisper against my lips.

We barely stopped kissing as we made our way up the stairs to Chris’s room. The second we set foot inside I was fumbling with the button on his pants. Down his zipper came, then they were nothing but a tangle of denim under our feet.

His lips never stopped moving with mine, even when we collapsed on the bed and he wiggled out of his boxers. Chris’s muscled body against mine felt even hotter than it had been in my dream, and we moved together so perfectly. Every time he touched me it made me fall a little harder for him, and every brush of his lips made me want him that much more. When Chris finally slid inside me it was the most amazing experience of my life, and as our lips locked together and our bodies moved as one, I let out a deep breath. Exhaling the past and all the rotten things that had happened before slowly inhaling my future with Chris.

Jaimi Lynn Photography

Kate L. Mary is a stay-at-home mother of four and an Air Force wife. She grew up in a small town just north of Dayton, Ohio, where she and her husband met at the age of twelve. Since their marriage in 2002, they have lived in Georgia, Mississippi, South Carolina, and California.

Kate enjoys any post-apocalyptic story—especially if zombies are involved—as long as there is a romantic twist to give the story hope. Kate prefers nerdy, non-traditional heroes who can make you laugh to hunky pieces of man-meat, and her love of wine and chocolate is legendary among her friends and family. She currently resides in Oklahoma with her husband and children.

You can visit her at www.KateLynnMary.com.

To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

LYRICAL SHINE BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2016 by Kate L. Mary

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

Lyrical Shine and the Lyrical Shine logo are trademarks of the Kensington Publishing Corp.

First Electronic Edition: February 2016

ISBN: 978-1-6165-0807-4

ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-808-1
ISBN-10: 1-61650-808-6