A fever took over my blood, heating me up. “I,” my tongue wet my lips, “um, I’m here to talk about you and me.”

His gaze clouded over, and his eyelids lowered. He bent his head back over his guitar, but he didn’t start strumming again. “There is no you and me. You’re in the band. That’s it.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Luke,” I started.

“No.” He stood up abruptly, setting his guitar to the side. As he advanced toward me, his eyes were smoldering.

When my back hit the wall, I realized I had nowhere to go and could only watch as he closed in on me. A part of me wanted him to keep getting closer; the other part of me was still thinking about crapping my pants.

He leaned a hand against the wall beside my head, keeping a few inches between us. His eyes were hard as he said, “There is no you and me. That died long ago, remember?”

“Luke.”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You left me in the hospital, and I found out three weeks later that you were dating Turner. That’s how you ended our friendship.”

There was more to it, so much more, but I couldn’t tell him. I’d been quiet all these years, terrified of what he would do if he knew the whole truth. My hands wrung together. “I didn’t want to end it like that. I didn’t.”

“But you did.”

No, I hadn’t. I started to shake my head. I wanted to deny it, but I had let him think that. “I was there. I wanted to go to the hospital. I…just... couldn’t, but that didn’t mean I was thinking about…” I wasn’t making it better.

“I woke up, and you were with Turner.” He leaned in close, his breath coating my skin, caressing and taunting me at the same time. “But you had been with me the night before. You told me you loved me. You didn’t, though. You lied to me.” He pulled back, and I felt his cold stare. “What are you doing here, Bri? The past is done. There’s no going back.”

I wet my lips again. They were so dry. So was my throat. “Braden told me to smooth things over with you. The tension between us is going to affect the band.”

“Because of your brother. The band. That’s why you’re here.” He didn’t move, but I felt him withdrawing. “He’s right. Having a hot chick in the band will get us more attention. I’ve already gotten gig offers for next week, more than normal, so you’re part of that reason, and the other reason I’m allowing you to play with us—is because I owe your brother. He’s been there for me.” Unlike me. That was his insinuation. “He wants you with us because he’s scared that if you’re not around me, you’ll go back to Turner.” The corner of his mouth curved up in a mocking smirk, making him look lethal. “Little does your brother know that I don’t matter. Whatever friendship we had means nothing now. The only thing you want from me…” He paused as his eyes skimmed down my body, taking in my shallow breaths, my full breasts, my nipples pressing through my shirt. If he touched me, I would’ve trembled. He took all this in, and the mocking smirk turned into a knowing leer.

He stepped close to me again. The edges of his jeans grazed against my waist, but he still held himself back, raking me up and down, then scanning my face. With his lips close to mine, holding just out of reach, he murmured, “The only thing you want from me is this.” His hand touched my waist, and I gasped, surging upright, feeling burned from the sensation. He leaned down so his lips lightly rested above mine.

He was torturing me. It felt like he was taking a hot poker to me, singeing me with each poke, and he was enjoying it.

His breath was searing on me as he stared me down. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t look away. The longer he held me, the more I wanted him against me. I started to lean against him, but he took my hands and raised them above my head before I could touch him. I was trapped. He had them pinned. His eyes never left me—he hardly even blinked—heat simmered just below the surface. He was keeping it masked from me, but I still saw it. I licked my lips, needing to unleash it. I needed to feel it, taste it.

“Luke.” I knew what he was doing. He was trying to break me, and it was working.

“Is that what you want?” He bent so his eyes bore straight into mine. One inch. That was all that separated us. “You want this? Then what? Maybe the tension will leave? Everything will be fine?”

My body grew heated, and my heart began pounding. Fuck it. I needed him.

He saw the surrender in me. Triumph flared in his gaze, but instead of closing the distance, he moved away. As he put more distance between us, I groaned in protest. No. It wasn’t going to happen. As he let go of my hand, I snaked it behind his neck, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and pulled his head to mine. Our lips pressed together. Then his arms wrapped around me, and my legs wound around his waist. Feeling his mouth, hot and hungry on mine, I let him do whatever he wanted. I wanted him to do more. Holding me and kissing me wasn’t enough.

I grinded against him, feeling the pleasure building. Shit. An ache was building in every part of my body.

Then he ripped his mouth from mine and dropped me. I felt his fury directed at me, and he shook his head, slowly, staring down at me. My body trembled, wrecked through and through, and I couldn’t speak.

The torture was there, looking back at me. “Bri.” His hands went to my hips, and he crowded me against the wall once more. I closed my eyes, feeling the touch of his hands on me. My jeans had ridden low while my shirt had moved up. He was touching my bare skin. A soft caress, and I swallowed, feeling a burn where they touched. My skin was shivering. It was begging for more of him, but those fingers remained firm. They didn’t move.