Pushing off the doorway, he took a step inside. “I know, Luce.” He gave me a sad smile.

I disappeared behind the bathroom door, pajamas in hand, tears in eyes.

“I didn’t think your room would be so . . . girly.” His nose was curled from the tone of his voice.

Sliding out of the sausage casing dress, I stuck my head out. “Don’t we know better by now than to assume anything about each other?” I peaked a brow and smiled.

He chuckled. “I’d hope so,” he said. “So you’re saying this would be a bad time to mention the five other children I’ve fathered with five different women? Or have you trailed me to all of their trailers already?”

I flung the dress out the door, hitting his face.

Sliding it off his face, he crumpled it up. If it was any indicator of how little fabric it consisted of, he was able to palm it in one fist before stuffing it in his jacket pocket. “I’m keeping this as a souvenir, Luce. You looked amazing.”

“Like you were looking at the dress,” I hollered out at him, sliding into my nightgown.

“If you wear a dress like that, Luce, here’s a pointer. Guys aren’t going to be admiring the material.”

Everything felt like it used to. Back to normal. Well, the only normal Jude and I could ever be, but it was ours, and enough. I ran a brush through my hair a few times, just so it didn’t look like I was going for the ratty look, and stepped back into the bedroom.

Jude was propped up in my bed, flipping through my student handbook. “I heard you got in,” he said, putting it back on the nightstand. “Juilliard, Luce. Even the dumb hick I am and I’ve heard enough about it to know that’s something to be proud of.”

I bent a knee beneath me and sat beside him. “And I heard you got into just about any university you want. That is, if you don’t go for that whole seven figure, NFL thing.”

He bowed his head against the head board. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Have you made any decisions?”

“Not yet,” he said, like it was no big deal. Like having a full blown scholarship to whatever school you chose wasn’t a big deal. If that wasn’t, it was hard to imagine what Jude considered a big deal.

“Jude,” I said, planting my hand on his stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me about Sawyer? Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t the dad?’ It was one of the many questions I couldn’t even begin to answer.

“Would you have believed me?” he asked, his voice strained.

I knew the answer, but I didn’t want to give it air.

“And I also knew that if you assumed I was Jude’s dad, and that I’d lied to you about that, it would be enough for you to be done with me for good. It was the only way I knew to keep you safe from me.”

I lifted my hand from his stomach. “So you planned this? The whole time we were together, you were scheming some way to screw up royally so I’d leave you alone?”

“No, Luce,” he said, grabbing my hand back. “So I’d leave you alone.”

“That morning when I confronted you about Holly and the baby, you didn’t deny it.”

“But did I confirm it?”

I narrowed my eyes. “By not denying, you did.”

Sliding his beanie lower, he closed his eyes. “That’s because I knew that was the only way I could save you from me. I didn’t plan it out that way, but when you confronted me about Holly that morning, I knew that if I was going to be a man and let you go, that was my only chance. And lucky for me, I had the balls to do it that day.”

“What? Lie to me?” I asked with an edge.

Jude shook his head. “Walk away from you.”

This whole thing between Jude and me had been one, carefully managed miscommunication orchestrated by him. I was hurt, and I was pissed, and I even understood why, but most of all, I was done with it.

“You about done walking yet?” I asked, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at his face.

He tossed the pillow back. “Undecided on that one.”

If I didn’t know why he was undecided, that answer might have stung. “Why are you here now then?”

“Because I want to be,” he said, confessing it like a sin.

“And you didn’t want to be here before?” I scooted closer, wishing that for two damn minutes, we could be on the same page.

“I did,” he said, staring at the ceiling. “I’m just tired of fighting it right now.”

There it was, the breakthrough I was waiting for. The red light had changed. “Do me a favor and don’t fight it again.”

Sitting up, he looked at me. His stare was crippling. “I will, Luce. I’m going to keep fighting it because you don’t deserve some dead end guy with my past ruining your life.”

Throwing my arms up, I exhaled. Humility was a good thing, but being a martyr was as bad as believing you were god’s gift. I was done with the routine. “If you’d shut up about all the reasons I shouldn’t want you, maybe you’d hear that I don’t care,” I said. Well, I shouted. “I know the worst parts of you and I know the best parts of you.” I paused to get a breath. “And I want you.”

Something flickered in his eyes before he looked away. His jaw tightened as he eyed the door and, just as I was contemplating barricading it closed with my body, he pulled me to him, his mouth finding mine.

He kissed me like he was trying to consume me, like he was making up for a half a year’s worth of missed moments, and like he was done fighting what I knew was a useless fight.

Cradling my face in his hands, he kissed me harder, so hard I couldn’t breathe, but if kissing like this required breathlessness, I was giving up oxygen for good. The moment consumed me, encapsulating me in nothing but the here and now. The past, the lies, the pain, nothing could break through the world we were creating right now. I didn’t want it to.

Tugging his shirt free, I pulled it over his back and tossed it on the floor. It was the first time he’d ever let me take his shirt off, but my hands against his skin weren’t enough. I wanted the rest of him against the rest of me.

Right before I was about to, Jude slipped his hands beneath my nightgown, tugging it up over my stomach, my br**sts, and then my head. His eyes roamed over me, inspecting my body like he was committing every line and dip and curve to memory. I knew it should have been uncomfortable, sitting nak*d and exposed in front of a man who’d seen his share of women and could have his pick of any of them, but there was no way to feel insecure with the way he was looking at me.

He smiled at me when his eyes made the final journey to mine. His eyes muted silver, his breaths short, his body ready. I knew I’d never want anyone else like I wanted him.

“Jude,” I said, “I—”

The last two words got lost as his mouth crushed into mine, his hands digging into my h*ps right before flipping me back onto the bed. The warmth of his skin warmed mine, creating a sheen of sweat between us. His mouth moved to my neck, his hands to my br**sts, and I felt close to falling over the edge of the world. But I still wanted more, I needed more.

I was so ready for him I could feel it all the way down to my toes.

Sliding my hands between us, I grabbed his pants, tugging on the button of his jeans. It snapped free and I slid my hand inside. He moaned, his forehead leaning into mine as his body moved against mine. Sliding my hand out, I rocked my h*ps up toward him. Another sound escaped him, “Damn it,” he moaned right before his mouth fell over mine again. His tongue parted my lips, touching the tip of mine, as his fingers slipped beneath my panties. He slid them off in one seamless move, his tongue never leaving my mouth.

I was in another world. A world that was foreign and a world I wanted to make my home. It was passionate and there was heat. The kind that went so deep you absorbed it. The kind that went so deep it became a part of you.

I was so close to losing everything that was balling up inside me, I knew I couldn’t hold on much longer with the way he was touching me. With the way he was consuming me.

Now, totally nak*d, I wrapped my legs around him, arching my h*ps against his, rocking up and down. His breathing stopped as every muscle in his body tensed to the surface.

“Not like this,” he breathed, punching the pillow behind me.

Everything inside me screamed. “Not like what?” I said between ragged breaths, leaving my legs around him. I wasn’t giving up when we were this close.

He closed his eyes. “Not right after you were almost raped by Sawyer Diamond,” he said, leaning back.

His skin no longer pressed against mine, a cold crept up me almost immediately. “Jude, I’m fine,” I said, leaning up on my elbows, not ready to let the moment go.

Shifting his legs off the bed, he hunched down. “But I’m not.”

“Why?”

He washed his hands over his face. “Because this is all kinds of wrong right now.”

That one hurt. “It didn’t feel wrong to me,” I said, trying not to think about the fact that I was probably the only woman the legendary Jude Ryder wouldn’t go all the way with.

Retrieving my gown from the floor, he held it out for me, keeping his eyes down. “That’s the thing. It didn’t feel wrong to me either,” he said as I snatched the gown from his hand. I wanted to chuck it across the room to prove a point, but pulled it on instead. “That’s how I know it was.”

“Could we save the mind benders for the morning?” I said, sticking my arms through the gown. “I’m running a little low on comprehension right now.”

“I’m doing a shit job of explaining myself,” he said, tugging on his hat, quiet for a minute. “My notion of right and wrong is so messed up, Luce, that my wrong is everyone else’s right. And my right is everyone’s wrong.”

I wanted to wrap my arms around him and comfort whatever turmoil he was experiencing, but I still felt a bit too shunned for that. “So you’re saying because what we were just doing felt right to you, it must be the wrong thing?” This was every definition of confusing.

He nodded, looking over at me. “I need a right and wrong recalibration, Luce, and until I’m able to get my shit figured out, I need to be careful with you.”

I flopped back down on the bed, covering my head with a pillow. “Careful was not what I had in mind for tonight,” I whined, my voice muffled.

“I know,” he said, rubbing my leg. “But it’s the right thing to do.”

Lifting the pillow, I lifted a brow. “Jude’s right or everyone else’s?” I asked with an innocent smile.

My snark had no effect on him. “I’m not sure,” he said, “and I need to be before we finish . . .” he glanced at the bed meaningfully, “doing what we were doing.”

“Well,” I said, sitting up and scooting close. “Hurry and figure your shit out, Ryder.” I pressed my lips to his, pulling back as everything inside me started to boil.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled, running his thumb down my cheek. “I just want it to feel right, okay? I want it to be perfect.”