The rest of the group burst into laughter, as if what Brady had said was the most hilarious thing they’d ever heard. Of course, Clay knew that Savannah wouldn’t be getting married anytime soon. She was seven years younger than him. There was no way. Over his dead body.

So, that technically made him next on the list. But that didn’t mean right now. And it certainly didn’t mean anytime soon with Andrea talking about changing their relationship. Marriage and babies weren’t high on his list. Actually, they’d never even touched the list.

“I need a drink,” he said before turning and walking away.

No one followed him. He was better off. He needed to get his shit together and figure out what he was going to say to Andrea later.

A few minutes later, he returned with a whiskey in hand and a glass of champagne for Andrea. He hoped, after a glass or two of this, he would be able to relax a little. He certainly needed it.

Andrea intercepted him and took the champagne from him. “How thoughtful.”

“Mmm,” he said, taking another sip of his whiskey. He’d asked the bartender to pour him a shot before he got this one, but apparently, that was in poor taste. So, he’d had to down one of these before collecting her champagne.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Let’s talk about it later.”

“Clay…”

“Later, Andrea.”

“You can’t admit something is wrong and then not tell me what it is,” she insisted. “I do have emotions, you know?”

“You made that quite clear.”

“What does that mean?” she snapped. Her eyebrows rose sharply.

“It means that, because you have developed those emotions out of nowhere, you should not ask me to talk through them with you in public,” he said plainly.

She narrowed her eyes and then tossed back the champagne like it was a fucking shot. Damn! That’s impressive. He’d practically cringed, watching her do it.

“You think, because I’ve decided to tell you how I feel, I’ll just let you walk all over me? I’m not, nor will I ever be, one of those girls you can treat like shit and ignore, Clay Maxwell,” she said evenly. “I’ve known you for fifteen years. I’ve been in your bed for nearly as long. I know you inside and out. I’m not an idiot. I know that what Brady said back there freaked you the fuck out.”

“And?” he snapped.

“And what?”

“And what do you think? Do you think this is leading us to that shit? Is that what you meant when you said we were like Brady and Liz?”

“God! Why do you have to jump to conclusions?” she demanded. She grabbed his arm and pulled him farther away from the crowd. “Did I say I wanted us to get married and have kids?”

“No, but…”

“No. I didn’t say that. I said I wanted us to be a couple. So, why can’t we act like that?”

“Because this isn’t us, Andrea!”

“What isn’t us?” she asked. “This is exactly us. This is what we do. We go to functions together. We play boyfriend and girlfriend. We pretend to be just like everyone else. How is this any different?”

“Because we’re not pretending. You actually want us to be like that,” he told her. “And I don’t know if I want that.”

Andrea took a small step back. “You seemed like you wanted that when we talked at my place. You seemed on board. Why won’t you just try with me, Clay? Just try? I mean, you claimed me as your girlfriend to Asher. You pushed him away, fucking ran him off, so that he’d never even look at me again, but you don’t want me?”

“I want you,” he said. He dropped a hand onto her hip and pulled her closer. “I really, really want you.”

“Ugh!” she snapped. She pushed him away from her. “Not like that. That’s not what I meant at all, and you know it!”

“What? So, now, you don’t want to have sex with me?”

“This isn’t about sex. This is about you being terrified of having a relationship. I mean, I would understand if it were someone you had just met. If you were so afraid of doing this because you didn’t really know the person and had no clue how they would treat you. But this is me,” she said. Her voice dipped down, and she sounded so vulnerable. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she closed them to try to keep them at bay. “This is me, Clay.”

“I know it is.”

“I know everything about you. I like that you’re a scoundrel and a sarcastic ass. I like that you value your family as much as you get frustrated with the entire process. I know you. If you can’t let me past your guard, like I’ve let you past my guard, then you’ll never let anyone in.”

Clay couldn’t hear any of this. Of course Andrea knew him. She always had. That was why their arrangement had worked. That didn’t mean they needed to change it.

“But why would you want to change something that works? What we have works,” he told her. “It was always has.”

Andrea feebly shook her head. “It doesn’t work for me anymore. I want more. I deserve more. I’ve grown up, and I need something more than this.” Her blue eyes were sad. “Honestly, Asher was willing to give me more.”

“You’re really going to bring up that douche like that?”

“Yes! Don’t you see what I’m saying? I could have more. I could have a real relationship, but I want it with you.” She reached out and laced their fingers together. “I want to make this work with you.”

“I don’t need this.” He pulled away from her.

“What? You don’t need what?” Andrea reached for him.

“This,” he said calmly.

How could I keep having this conversation without her understanding? He didn’t need this argument. She was asking for more than he was willing to give. He wasn’t ready for that. He just wanted to keep things the way they were.

“This,” she repeated. She gestured between them.

“Yeah.”

Andrea glanced off, away from him. She seemed to be trying to collect her thoughts. Her face hardened. Something in her shifted. He had no idea what she was thinking. Couldn’t she tell that she was ruining everything?

“Have you fucked anyone else since the night of your attack?” she asked. Her voice was hard, lacking all the emotion that had been there moments ago.