So he knew Dorian and Ken, though that wasn’t news to me. It was just confirmation. Whether Cole lived upstairs or Dorian did, he was connected to the owner of this building. There were so many secrets around him. I didn’t want to become one of them myself, but as he looked away and I studied his side profile, I had a feeling I already was.

I reached forward and took his hand, linking our fingers together. “I used to sit and hold Liam’s hand like this.”

Cole gazed down at our hands, but he didn’t say anything.

The air was so damn thick. I was about to make it even heavier.

“I know you can’t say anything, but maybe I can? I can tell you about me, and someday you’ll tell me about you?”

I felt his gaze on me, but I didn’t look. I didn’t dare, or I’d lose my courage. Speaking about Liam was hard enough, but saying it to Cole, I felt ice moving through my veins. I forced myself to speak, knowing it was good to air some of this out, even just for myself.

“My family lives far away, so when Liam and I moved here, he became my family. He didn’t get along with the rest of his family. His mom didn’t like me, and his dad was just…absent. I guess that’s the best way to describe him. His sister hated him, and he had another brother I never met. He never came home, not even for Liam’s funeral. I don’t know what I’m really saying here, but when Liam died, I died, too. Or it felt like it. Sia’s been wonderful to me, but right now, she’s four floors up with her new boyfriend, and I actually feel like he might be the one for her.” What was I saying? I was rambling.

Cole squeezed my fingers lightly.

I felt encouraged by that small pressure. “I guess I’m just saying you can trust me, even though this—” I gestured between us. “—is something I have no way to understand right now. And I’m not trying to pressure you. I just want to say…” I stopped talking, feeling my eyes well up as I stared at our linked hands. “I’m a mess. I didn’t mean to make things awkward between us. This is stupid. I was just trying to say I liked that we could hold hands. That was it—”

“Addison,” he murmured.

“What?” I looked up.

“Shut up.” Then his mouth was on mine, and he lifted me onto his lap.

I wanted to die again, but for a whole other reason.

I woke to the feeling of kisses on my neck. There was no thought. I opened my eyes, saw Cole, and rolled to my back. We didn’t speak as he moved so he was above me. I rested my arms over his shoulders, looping my hands, and closed my eyes, just enjoying the feel of him. It wasn’t long before he reached for a condom and slid inside me.

This was the way every morning should be: waking up to Cole inside of me. As he thrust in and slid out, over and over, I arched my back. Waves of pleasure rolled through me. His hand skimmed down my rib cage to cup my hip, and he used it as an anchor to go deeper.

This man, who I knew little to nothing about, knew my body in a way only Liam had. This should’ve alarmed me—waking up to him in my bed should’ve alarmed me—but it did the opposite. I felt safe and protected. And when I felt him coming, I didn’t want it to end.

Afterward, as both of us trembled, he breathed into my ear. “You’re bad for my work ethic.” A low chuckle sounded.

“What do you mean?”

He pulled out to lie on his side, facing me. He traced a finger down my side, leaving tingles in its wake. “I have to leave town because of Robbie’s death. The funeral will be somewhere else, and I have…” Again with the hesitation. “…There’s business to deal with. I might be gone a while.” His eyes raked over me, and he groaned and buried his face in my neck. “I don’t want to go.”

I skimmed a hand down his bare back, enjoying the feel of his muscles. “But you have to.”

He nodded. “I have to.”

He spoke those words against my skin. I felt another rush go through me.

“I’m sorry for you,” I told him.

He pulled back, gazing down at me. His eyes clouded.

I pulled my hand against my chest. “I mean the funeral. You’ll have to go through all of that.” I remembered Liam’s. “Trust me, it’s going to suck.”

The cloud disappeared. A new emotion lurked there—one I couldn’t name.

“Funerals always suck,” he said, almost roughly. He rolled in one smooth movement to sit on the edge of the bed. I sat up with him, pulling the sheet to cover my breasts. He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve been to too damn many of them. You?”

“Liam’s.”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “Hey, I didn’t say it last night, but thank you for telling me a little about him. Your husband.”

My throat swelled up. “Yeah.”

“I lost my family when I was little.”

I lifted my head.

“I know what it’s like to lose your family.” His hand covered mine on the bed between us. “I’m an ass—coming in, sleeping with you, and not telling you much about me.”

I laughed. “Trust me, I’ve asked myself more than a few times what the hell we’re doing. But you came back.” I clutched the sheet tighter and shrugged. “And here we are. Again.”

“You’re okay with this?”

“I…It is what it is.”

“What does that mean?”

“Go to your funeral.” I scooted forward and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his shoulder. “Bury your friend, and then come back to me. Maybe we can figure it out more then.”