“I’m not the dumbshit.”

We were laughing. We were teasing each other. My nerves stretched. I didn’t want this to go away.

“No, but you just had one talk for you.” She smirked. “She’s not okay with that.”

Barking out a laugh, I snagged a finger through a loop on her jeans as she turned away. What was I doing? I hauled her back. “I always thought your vajayjay was a man.”

She was holding back a smile as she rested a hand to my chest. “You think I have man parts?”

That one touch.

I wanted to close my eyes and relish it.

This is wrong, but I was beyond caring. I pulled her so she was flush against me. “I think you have balls of steel. That’s what I think you have.”

Her head went down, but I could hear the laughter she was holding back. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really.” I let loose of her waistband and slid my hands under her shirt. Then I raised them, skimming over her back, lifting her shirt as I did.

Her eyes closed, and she sighed in contentment. “Luke.”

I pulled her closer and skimmed a quick glance around the bar. There were people watching us, but no one I cared about. Dustin nodded at me. I knew he would take care of things, so I took her hand and led her through the back hallway to the attached apartment. When I shut the door, the sounds from the bar were suppressed.

Bri lifted an eyebrow. “You soundproofed this place?”

“I figure it’s my home, so why not?”

She turned away.

We’d been joking two seconds earlier, but that was gone. Her shoulders tensed again. Her hand trembled before she stuffed it into her jean’s pocket.

“Your home?” Her voice sounded hoarse.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not going to your real home anymore?”

I sighed. “Bri, I hate that house. It’s his house. It’s…” Where you left me and chose him. “There aren’t a lot of good memories in that place.”

“You grew up next to me.”

“Those are the only good memories. There’s too much of him in there. I can’t stomach the idea of living there again, not now since I don’t have to. I can afford something better.”

I looked at her for a moment, drinking in the sight of her.

Her jeans were always faded and ripped. She wore them like a second skin, along with her top. The shirt might’ve changed, but Brielle wasn’t extravagant. She went for the simple and sexy look. A tank top or a T-shirt. It never mattered. She was slender, and her dark hair fell past her shoulders, matching her dark eyes when she looked at me. The curve of her lips was perfect when she smiled.

She was breathtaking.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?” I asked, thrown by her sudden question.

She reached for a chair, but her hand paused in the air. It formed into a fist, and she forced it open. Her fingers curved around the chair and she held onto it with a death grip. Her bottom lip quivered a tiny bit. She was watching me, but I felt like she was seeing through me, to something behind me, or…I stopped. Was she?

I looked behind me. There was nothing there. “What are you seeing right now?”

She flinched like I had slapped her. “Nothing.”

“Brielle.”

“Stop.”

I had taken a step toward her, but halted at her command. My hand went out to her. I wanted to help her so badly. I wanted her to let me in. “What happened to you?”

A tear fell from her eyelid. It trickled down, slowing over the curve of her cheek, until it dropped all the way to the corner of her mouth. Then it held there until more joined it. All of them fell together, and she let them be.

“Bri.” My voice was raspy.

“I love you,” she whispered.

I froze.

She said the words.

She said them again, “I love you, and that’s why I have to avoid you. It hurts too much. I don’t know why you keep finding me or why you held me tonight, but you have to stop. I get it. I hurt you. Don’t you think I know? Don’t you think I hurt myself, too?” She was whispering, and she gestured behind me. “I see him. Even now, he haunts me. It’s because of him. All of this is because of him. If I hadn’t listened to him—you know what I did. It doesn’t matter. You left, and it’s been over a year.” Her eyes fell to my chest, and she came to me.

I held my breath.

She was coming to me. She was initiating this, and if I let myself breathe, she’d go away again.

As she stopped right in front of me, her hands went to my shirt. She touched me how I had touched her only moments ago. Her fingers, so soft and warm, caressed my skin. I wanted her. She lifted my shirt, her hands grazing against me, all the way up until she pulled my shirt from my head. But she wasn’t looking at me. My chest rose up and down, and I fought to keep myself under control. Every part of me wanted to gather her in my arms, carry her to my bed, and be with her. She would go with me. I could always claim her body. She gave that to me. It was her weakness, but her heart… My gaze fell to her chest, and I pressed a hand between her breasts, under her shirt, and she let out a ragged breath at the touch.

“Bri—” I whispered, but she shook her head, stopping me.

“I love you.” She was so quiet. Her head dropped to my chest, but her hands began to trace my scars. I had one that started from my arm and ran all the way down my side until it disappeared under my jeans.