“Keep telling yourself that.”

“You’re insufferable,” she spat, pacing away from him.

“You liked every minute of it.”

She rounded on him. “What about the time that you left me at Hilton Head all by myself and never called? Or the time that you were pissed off that I wrote the article I wanted to and not yours? Or the time that you brought another girl to the gala you invited me to?”

“Liz . . .”

“Or just keeping me secret. Oh, look, we’re at a place without cameras in the middle of the night. How convenient,” she drawled, shaking her head.

Brady closed the distance between them and slowly walked her backward until she was pressed up against the wall. Her breath caught in her throat at his nearness. Her whole body woke up. Holy shit! How did he do that?

“You seem to remember history very differently than I do,” he said, guiding his hand down the curve of her neck and over her shoulder. His other hand was on the wall to the left of her head. She swallowed. “I seem to remember afternoons spent on the lake, stripping your clothes off in a cabana, holding you close all night when you drank too much, staying with you an extra night on the Fourth of July . . .”

His hand brushed against the side of her breast and her head thudded back into the wall. He smirked and moved his hand to her slim waist.

“Did you forget about those things?” he asked, his eyes boring into her.

Voice. She had a voice. It was there somewhere.

“No . . . no, I didn’t,” she finally whispered.

“I didn’t think so.”

Arrogant son of a bitch . . .

“If you tell me right now that you don’t want me, I’ll stop.” His fingers found the hem of her waistline and he slid the fabric across the sensitive skin from one side to the next. Her eyes fluttered as she struggled to find words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that,” he teased. His hand dipped inside her pants and played mischievously with the lace of her thong. His lips moved to her ear and he nipped at her earlobe before speaking seductively. “If you don’t say anything, I’m going to have to f**k you into tomorrow.”

Her body was screaming and moaning and crying out. It was demanding everything that Brady was offering. It was desperate for his perfect brand of ecstasy. But her brain was fighting with her body. It was whispering in the back of her mind, reminding her why she had left, reminding her there was someone else . . . in both of their lives.

In the time that it took for her brain to speak louder than her body, Brady had flicked the button open on her jeans and was sliding the zipper down.

“Stop,” she murmured, pulling her hands up. “Brady, you’re with someone else.”

“I believe you called her an uppity nuisance,” he offered with a sigh as he straightened.

“I can’t do this while we’re with other people. As long as we are, this door remains shut,” she whispered. Her body was such a hussy.

“Are you going to stay with that guy after he upset you enough that you called and came here with me?”

“I don’t even want to hear this from you.”

“Then why the f**k did you call me?” he demanded.

“I don’t know, okay!” she yelled, bringing her hands up to her head and grabbing her hair. “I just didn’t want to be . . . me.”

“I see,” he said softly.

Liz took a second to collect herself. While she straightened and smoothed her hair out, his phone beeped, indicating a text message. She watched him check the phone and then replace it into his pocket.

“That was probably your girlfriend anyway,” she said after a minute.

Brady just stood there staring at her. She could feel his eyes assessing her, but she didn’t want to look up at him. She didn’t want to know what he was thinking. He had wanted to f**k her. God! He probably still wanted to, and it would have been so easy to just give in, but she wasn’t that girl. How could she jump back into something with Brady without any guarantee that it wouldn’t all go to shit again?

How could she even think that he wanted to jump back into anything other than sex? The worst part of all was she just didn’t know. She never knew what she was going to get with Brady. There were no assurances. And while that had been sexy, exhilarating, and endearing over their summer together . . . it was flat-out terrifying to think about the future.

“It was,” he finally answered.

Liz nodded. She had figured as much. “What did she say?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Uh-huh,” she said disbelievingly. “I should go.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Tell me what she said.”

“What does it even matter?”

Liz shrugged. She didn’t know why it mattered. It just did. “Fine. It doesn’t matter. Can I go home now?”

“No.”

Liz yanked the bedroom door open and started out into the hallway. Brady caught up to her easily and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t touch me,” she said, yanking it away from him. “Go talk to your girlfriend or something.”

“It was literally nothing,” he said, stopping her. “She was just saying good night.”

That made sense actually. It still made her stomach turn.

“Read it if you don’t believe me,” he said flippantly, tossing the phone into her hand.

The message was still lit up and she read it word for word.

Good night! I thought I’d already hear from you but I’m exhausted and going to sleep. I love you!!!

Liz’s stomach dropped out. Erin loved him. Well, of course she did. Who didn’t love Brady Maxwell? He was entirely lovable under that ass**le persona. Liz had fallen in love with him, after all . . . and in a much shorter time frame than Brady and Erin had been dating.

“She loves you.” It was all she could get out.

Brady didn’t say anything. His eyes just zeroed in on the phone she was holding in her hands. She didn’t know why she asked the next question. She was a masochist. She liked to torture herself. She never wanted to be happy again.

“Do you love her?”

Brady didn’t say anything at first, and it was all the answer she needed. Oh, God! She clutched her stomach and closed her eyes. This was not happening. She didn’t care how hypocritical it was to feel like this about Brady loving someone else. She had told Hayden she loved him over the summer, but this . . . this was somehow different.