He pulled me against him, just for a second, and murmured into my ear, “Keep the maniacal crazy till later, because you’re right. I want to fuck. you. tonight.” His mouth closed over my ear, and I swooned, my knees buckling.

Flames burst inside of me, and I sagged against him.

He continued his kissing, moving down my neck to my shoulder, and his hand joined the exploration. It fit right under my shirt, and then tunneled under my jeans. He grabbed a good portion of my ass before going even farther, and I squeaked, feeling his fingers go somewhere I was not ready for.

“Holy shit!” I jumped, dancing away.

My breath was shallow, and I knew I was flushed. All sorts of flushing here.

He was on me. Literally.

His eyes smoldered, and he dipped his head to stare at me eye-to-eye. He backed me up against the wall, guiding me until I had nowhere to go and the club melted away, the world with it.

When it was only the two of us, he said, so softly, “I do not scare. Stop using the crazy card on me, because it’s not working. I’ve seen crazy. Remember? You are hurting. You are sad. You are broken, but you are not crazy. You may feel that way at times, but you’re not. Trust me. So stop saying it.”

Oh—whoa.

He took my breath away.

I reached for him, my hands running up his arms, over his shoulders, curving around his neck, and just as we both felt his phone buzz, his eyes trained on my lips and he groaned.

Moving quickly, his mouth was on mine, and he sealed everything with that kiss.

I would do anything he wanted.

Everything. Anything. Nothing.

Whatever he wanted, because I just wanted him. I wanted to feel him, be in his arms, be able to speak the words to him that so far I only had enough courage to text.

But more than anything, I just wanted to be with him in whatever way he was going to allow that.

Fireworks continued exploding in me as he groaned and his lips nipped at mine. “Our car is here. Ready?” He took my hand again.

He turned, his shoulders rolling back. He was preparing too, slipping his glasses back on.

I—yeah… Where was I? That was about my mindset right now.

But then he tugged on me, and we were going.

I followed him.

We walked out through the club’s main entrance, and I was aware of flashes of light all around us. A few people gasped Reese’s name, and then we were outside on the street and more camera flashes were going off.

Someone had definitely called the press. It wasn’t a barrage, but enough to disorient me.

Reese ignored everyone and herded us both into the car.

When he gave the directions to Trent’s apartment, I looked at him.

“It’s not a great idea to bring girls to the hotel. Trent offered his place. Said he’d stay at his girlfriend’s.”

Well. Okay, then. It was all settled.

We were about to have it out. The driver didn’t seem to care who was in his back seat, but I still didn’t want to talk about anything until we got to Trent’s.

The drive wasn’t long—a little over twenty minutes. Reese kept a hand on the small of my back as I got out, and then stepped out beside me.

“You were here earlier?” he asked.

I nodded. “We came for a bit, ate, changed, and went back out.” I led the way inside.

Trent didn’t have a doorman, so I held my hands out for the keys. Reese handed them over, and for being in Chicago, I was surprised not to see anyone else out in the lobby on a Thursday night.

We stepped into the elevator, and I asked, “Are you going to get in trouble for not sleeping there?”

Reese shook his head, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He looked tired, softening lines around his mouth and bags under his eyes. Taking off his hat, he ran his hand briskly through his hair before shoving it back on, squashing it. He leaned back against the elevator wall.

“Coach knows about Aiden’s party. We’re fine. I mean, we’re all adults. We gotta meet at eleven for meetings, but I’m fine till then.”

The elevator dinged, and we stepped out onto Trent’s floor.

Reese stayed right behind me, his hand on my hip. “I thought your buddy lived in Minneapolis?”

“No. He moved down here for college and just stayed, but he travels a lot for his job.” Speaking of, I opened the door and asked, “How’d you know where we were?”

He grunted, shutting the door, flipping the locks, and stepping around me.

That wasn’t a good sign.

Dropping his hat and sunglasses on the counter, he went to the fridge. He grabbed a water, and tossed one to me. “Drink that.”

I caught it, holding it a second. “Excuse me?”

He motioned to my phone and me. “I don’t want to talk to drunk Charlie tonight. You’re acting fine, but I don’t care about how you’re acting. I want you sober. I want to get shit dealt with, because I’m sick of this absence crap.”

Absence crap.

My heart soared.

I opened my water and took a drink. “You really do care, don’t you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Spare me.”

I laughed and capped the water again.

“Really? All that texting was you sober?”

I touched my chest. “It’s like you don’t actually know me.”

“Oh…” He let out a myriad of curses, his head tipping back. “Not with this bullshit. Come on, Charlie. I want to deal with you, not just another chick playing fucking mind games.” He tossed his phone on the counter, his water next to it. Stepping back, he folded his arms and fixed me with a glare. “You said a lot of heavy stuff in those texts. Say it again to me—face to face, not behind your little phone keyboard. Give me a chance to actually respond this time.”