Our eyes locked, and there it was again, that electric current that shot from my heart, through my dick, until it anchored in my very soul. “I wanted you to. I knew the entire time we were friends that it was dangerous, that I was attracted to you.”

My stomach jumped. “Was?”

“Don’t be stupid, Jagger. Of course I’m still attracted to you. You look like”—she scanned her eyes over my body—“that. Every woman with a pulse is going to be attracted to you.”

A corner of my mouth quirked up. “There’s only one pulse I’m concerned with, and she doesn’t seem to want me.”

We stood in a stalemate for more breaths than I could count, gauging each other’s reactions, both uncertain of what to say next.

“I can’t be with you.”

Fuck, that hurt. It would have doubled me over if I hadn’t been holding her hands. I stroked my thumbs over her soft skin. “You’re going to have to give me a reason.”

She pulled her hands away, like she’d just now noticed that I held them. “You have no idea what you’re getting into with me. I’m not…” She played with her watch, sliding it along her wrist. “Jagger, I’m not a good idea for you.”

“I’m not really a walk in the park, either.” I forced a smile. “Underneath this handsome yet mysteriously inked exterior is someone who doesn’t trust anyone or anything. You don’t know everything about me, either. I’d say you and I are pretty well matched.”

“As friends.”

“That’s all you want.” Tell me I’m wrong. Please.

She gripped the edge of the counter. “That’s all I can give you.”

Fuck. I locked my jaw and nodded once, not because I was okay with it, but because it was the only motion I was capable of making. There was nothing I could say that wouldn’t come out like begging, and I refused to beg a woman whose mind was already made up. I’d learned that lesson a long time ago.

I took my tool bag and got out of there as quickly as possible, ignoring when she called my name in a soft, morose sigh.

What the hell. I’d stood up to my father, carved a life for myself, and yet I was literally running away from a pint-sized blonde who didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

I threw the tool bag unceremoniously into the truck and speed-dialed Josh.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Gym.”

The other side was quiet for a couple breaths. “I’ll grab Masters and meet you there.”

“Okay.”

“Jagger, don’t hit anything until I get there.”

“Yeah.” I hung up, carefully placing my cell phone in the cup holder so I didn’t hurl it through the window.

The drive was short, and the hard rock blasting through my speakers did nothing to quell the absolute rage boiling within me. I threw Lucy into park, grabbed my just-in-case gym bag, and headed inside.

Josh entered the locker room, Masters on his heels, as I was lacing my shoes, ready to go. They were both already dressed for the workout.

“Ready?” Josh asked.

I didn’t have to say anything. We walked toward the punching bag, and Masters took off to the weights. The guy was massive for a reason.

Josh held the bag, and after my hands were wrapped, I slammed my fists into it. Hit by hit, the vibrations sang up my arms, releasing the anger, the hurt, the frustration. After a few minutes, my heart pounded, the tightness in my chest eased, and my punches slowed.

“This have anything to do with the peonies in your car?”

I hit the bag again. “She wants to be friends. Just friends.” I punched between each word. “Friends don’t kiss like that.”

“Ouch.” He waited a couple more hits. “What are you going to do about it?”

I stopped, my chest heaving. “What the hell can I do about it? Beg?”

“Yes.”

I scoffed at him. “Right. So I can humiliate myself while she rejects me again. No fucking way.”

“Then you don’t deserve her.”

I stepped into the punch, throwing my full weight behind it. The momentum took Josh over, slamming him into the mat. Shit. Before I could apologize, he stood and took hold of the bag, ignoring that I’d just knocked him on his ass.

“You’d beg? Seriously rip yourself open and beg?”

“Did you not see the shit I crawled through for Ember?” He looked at me like I was an idiot.

He had a point.

“Jag, the good ones are worth begging, pleading, and basically mutilating your heart over.”

My laugh bordered on self-deprecating. “I don’t know why the hell I’m so pissed. Honestly, it’s for the best. This is what I wanted, right? I have jack and shit to offer her.” I wiped the sweat off my forehead. “I don’t have anything left of a heart to mutilate.”

“Bullshit. That hurt you’re feeling? That fear that she meant it, that you can’t talk her out of it? That’s what you need to hold on to. The anger is going to get you nowhere.” He grinned. “Besides, I remember someone buying me a pair of knee pads and telling me to suck it up and take as much as Ember could dish out for however long she needed to get her shit together.”

I hit the bag again, focusing on technique and not blind anger. “Yeah, well, everyone but you saw the way she looked at you, the way you two basically orbited around each other. But not everyone is you and Ember.”