“I just wanted to make sure there aren't any hard feelings.”

  “Hard feelings?” I glanced at her now. “About what?”

  “Well, Dax, of course.”

  “What about Dax?” I tried to keep my voice as nonchalant as possible.

  “Haven't you been wondering where he's been all week?”

  Anxiety twisted in my stomach. “I assumed working.” A quick sideways glance showed me a smirk.

  “He's been at the shop, if that's what you mean.”

  I sighed and stopped, turning to face her. “I'm not really in the mood for cryptic games, Cleo. Why don't you just say what you came here to say so I can meet my friend, then you can go back to whatever it was you were doing.”

  “Dax.” She pursed her lips at me. “That's what I was doing, sweetheart. All last week. Every break and lunch he took, we were fucking. After work too. The man's a machine. He can go all night.” She ran her gaze down to my feet and then back up again. “Or maybe that's just with me.”

  She was lying. She had to be lying. I'd seen Dax with her. He didn't want her.

  “Aw, honey, did you think you were special or something?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Believe me, you're not.”

  My hands curled into fists, but I fought to keep my expression blank.

  “Is that what he told you? That he only wanted to be with you? Come on, a man like him? You think he's gonna be satisfied with one pussy when he could have as many as he wants? Not a chance.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “He'll fuck you, I'm sure. Something new. Different. But when he wants a woman who knows what she's doing, knows him, he's coming to me. He always comes back to me.”

  And that was it right there. I was different. Inexperienced. And when he got tired of that, he would go back to what he knew. Cleo was that.

  “He's had a busy week,” she continued. “Lots of things going on. Best for everyone involved if you just walk away. Wouldn't want your rich little heart broken.”

  As she walked away, I knew it was too late.

  My heart had already broken.

  Chapter Nine

  Dax

  After a week of not hearing from any of the guys, of going to Club Privé to work and not having someone turn up there or at the apartment, when my mom called to ask if she could come home, I told her she could. Part of it was because I missed her – yeah, I was a badass with tattoos, but I loved my mother – I still couldn't deny that a bigger part of it was because I didn't want to be alone.

  Bryne had left early this morning after I'd fed her the bullshit about needing to help my mom, and I'd been miserable for hours before Mom called. Now, I was still miserable, but at least I was eating lunch with my mother. It was good to have her back.

  “Are you going to tell me what you've been up to this whole week, or do I need to make something up?” Mom's gaze was as shrewd as ever.

  “How about you tell me what it was like in the Hamptons?” I tried turning the question around on her. “Did you and Olivia have a good time?”

  She raised her eyebrow, and I knew I wouldn’t get out of telling her what she wanted to know. She didn't press the issue though. Instead, she answered my question.

  “Olivia and I spent nearly all of our time sitting around and reading. Carrie and Gavin have quite the library.” She took another bite of the salmon she'd made for lunch. “It's a beautiful house. So much space. I'm sure they'll be glad once the baby gets here. Plenty of room in that place for more kids.”

  “Has Carrie said they want more kids?” I drained the last of my beer and put the bottle in the recycling bag. I usually didn't drink one with lunch, but I wanted something to take the edge off today.

  “She let me stay at her house as a favor,” Mom said. “We're not bosom buddies.”

  I had to keep this conversation going. If it stalled, I knew she’d ask me about my week again, and I didn't want to talk about it. “Did she say when she and Gavin are coming back?”

  “Tomorrow, I think.” She looked up from her plate. “Now, Dax, I think it's your turn to talk.”

  “Mom, I–”

  “You're either going to tell me what had you so eager to get me gone for a week and a half, or you're going to tell me what's got you so tangled up. Your choice.”

  Shit. I couldn't tell her about Julius or about getting shot, and I didn't want to explain what happened with Bryne either. I didn't think she'd care about me having her over. In fact, she seemed to like Bryne. That was actually what worried me, that Mom liked Bryne too much and would be pissed about my being an asshole to her.

  I ran my hand through my hair. “Mom.” Before I could form an argument, someone knocked on the door. I tensed as I looked at her. “You expecting someone?”

  She shook her head. “You?”

  “I hope not,” I muttered as I moved into the living room. Normally, I just opened the door and didn't care about who was on the other side, but being shot had a way of changing a person’s perspective.

  So I peered through the eyehole into the hall, and my stomach dropped. I wasn't sure if it was worse or better that it wasn't Julius on the other side.

  It was Bryne.

  I forced a smile and opened the door. “Hey, babe. Come on in.”

  I started to reach for her as she stepped inside. It didn't matter how things had gone the last time we'd seen each other. I couldn't be around her and not want her.

  Apparently, she didn't feel the same because she took a step away before I could touch her.

  “I'm done waiting for you to tell me things whenever it suits you.” She folded her arms under her chest as she turned to face me. “Cleo met me in the park.”

  “Cleo?” A flare of anger went through me. I told Cleo to stay away from Bryne. Clearly, she hadn't listened.

  “She said you've been with her all week.”

  I didn't have to guess or ask what Cleo meant by been with. There was pretty much only one way Cleo was ever with a guy.

  “She's lying,” I said bluntly. “I haven't even seen her since last week, and that was only when I went to the shop to…” I cursed and pushed a hand through my hair. “I didn't talk to her when I was there.”

  A moment of silence hung between us, and she frowned. “That's it? That's all you're going to say?”

  “Excuse me.”

  Mom appeared, and Bryne flushed. “Ms. Prevot, I didn't realize you were back.”

  “It's nice to see you again, Bryne.” She gave me a stern look. “I'm going for a walk.”

  “That's okay, Ms. Prevot.” She gave my mom a warm smile, but I could see something else in her eyes. “The weather's really gross out there. I'll go.”

  “Don't you dare.” Mom reached out and put her hand on Bryne's arm, giving her a squeeze. “I'll go visit some friends in the building then. You stay here and make my son talk because he sure won't talk to me.”

  I glared at my mom as she walked past, but she just shook her head. I was familiar enough with my mother's way of communicating to know that it was her way of telling me that I'd fucked up.

  I didn't need her to tell me that. I already knew.

  “I wasn't with Cleo this week,” I said as soon as the door closed. No matter how badly I'd screwed things up, I couldn't let Bryne think that I'd been with a crazy woman.

  “Where were you then?”

  I gestured around me. “Here, actually. And at Club Privé. I picked up a couple extra shifts.”

  At least I could be honest about that.

  “You expect me to believe that you took an entire week off, and you spent it between home and the club?” She scowled at me. “I'm young, Dax, I get that. But I'm not stupid.”

  “I don't think you're stupid,” I said quickly. “I really was just here and there. What I told you yesterday was the truth. I needed to think.”

  “About what?”

  Dammit! How was I supposed to protect her and keep her away from me if the thought of hurting her killed me?
>
  “Come on, Dax, come up with something good this time.” Her voice was hard, sarcastic. “Think of a good lie to tell me. Something that the naive little girl from DC will believe like she's believed every other piece of bullshit you've spouted her way.”

  I took a step toward her, then stopped when she moved back. “I don't want to lie to you.”

  “Then don't.” Her eyes met mine, and I almost winced at what I saw there.

  Fury. Pain. Disappointment.

  “Tell me what's going on, Dax. All of it.”

  I could hear the finality in her voice and knew we'd reached the conversation I'd been hoping to avoid. The one where she wasn't going to let this go.

  I wanted to tell her. Wanted her support and advice because I knew she would have some great insight. But I also wanted to tell her because I wanted her to know me, and I didn't want to hide anything from her. I wanted to be with her. Completely.

  But I couldn't.

  If she knew about the money laundering and selling stolen parts, about the drugs Booker wanted to start selling, if she found out about what I'd planned on doing to the supplier, and if she knew exactly what happened to me the other night, she'd be in danger. Not like the kind of danger that meant she could end up with a bad reputation because of who I was. Not the sort of danger that came with spending time in some unsavory parts of the city.

  Her knowing any of those things could put her in Booker's sights. Or Julius's.

  Which was more important than knowing that she would probably never want to see me again if I confessed all of that to her. Even if, through some wild chance, she wouldn't be in danger, I would probably lose her.

  Except I was pretty sure if I didn't tell her anything, I was going to lose her anyway.

  “Well, Dax? Are you going to say something, or just stand there?” Bryne walked toward me, but I knew it wasn't because she wanted to kiss me. If she touched me at all, I had a feeling it would be a slap across the face.

  “Bryne...”

  “What'll it be, Dax? A lie about where you've been or what you've been doing?” Her eyes were blazing now. “Or are you going to try your other technique? Kiss me, touch me, get me so lost in the physical that I stop asking questions you don't want to answer? Tell me all sorts of pretty shit about how much I mean to you and how much you want me?”

  She meant more to me than she knew, more than I could tell her.

  “Go ahead, deny it. Tell me that it's all in my head.”

  She was still hurt, but anger was running things now. I knew whatever I said now would only add fuel to the fire. So, even though each word cut me, I let her say them all. Let her accuse me and doubt me. Because that was what I deserved for putting her in this position.

  “I'm not doing this anymore,” she said. “Not because I can't, but because I won't. I won't keep putting myself through this. We went into this with our eyes open. Both of us saying that we didn't want relationships, and that's okay. But this whole friends with benefits thing we have going on, that wasn't part of the deal. Because we're not friends.”

  I clenched my hands into fists. I didn't want to hear this, but I wasn't really surprised. It really couldn't be any other way.

  “We've never been friends, Dax. That implies a level of trust and respect that we clearly don't have.” She dropped her arms and looked up at me. “So I'm going to make this easy for you. We're done. Don't call me. Don't show up at the theater. And if I show up at the club, I'll walk right by.”

  Easy? She thought this was easy?

  She was at the door before I found my voice. “Bryne–”

  She didn't look at me as she spoke, “Don't. Just don't.”

  And then she was gone.

  I sat down on the couch, my head spinning. How had this happened? I'd just been looking for sex, nothing more. And then I told myself that we could be friends who fucked. Except she was right. I didn't treat her like a friend.

  And I didn't want to be her friend.

  I wanted to be more.

  “What the hell did you do?”

  I didn't look up when Mom came back into the apartment. I didn't need to see her face to know she was pissed at me.

  “Why aren't you running after that girl?”

  “She doesn't want me to,” I murmured.

  “And you're just going to take your girlfriend's word for it?”

  “She's not my girlfriend.” I dropped my head onto my hands. “Never was.”

  Mom was quiet for a moment and then said, “Then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought. You should've grabbed that girl when you had the chance.”

  As she walked into the kitchen, I couldn't help but agree with her.

  I was an idiot.

  And I'd lost my chance.

  Chapter Ten

  Bryne

  “You did the right thing.”

  Todd’s reassurance should've made me feel better, but it didn't. I wasn't sure anything could make me feel better right now, but I was hoping the pint of double-fudge ice cream I was eating would take the edge off.

  I'd canceled our lunch as soon as Cleo had left the park, knowing that I needed to confront Dax, and if I delayed for any reason, I might lose my nerve. Once I'd gotten back to the loft, I called Todd and spilled my guts.

  “Some people are wired for casual sex,” he continued. “But there's nothing wrong with not being like that.”

  “I don't think that's it,” I countered. “He was up-front about it the first time. No relationships, just sex, and I was fine with it. Okay, after he left, I might've thought that it wasn't going to be my normal way of doing things, but it wasn't like this.”

  “What changed?”

  I thought before answering, wanting to choose the right words to describe what I'd been feeling. “I guess I thought that if it was just sex, we'd meet up, do it, then go our separate ways. I didn't think we'd be going out to lunch, and he'd be telling me how he can't stop thinking about me.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. “I thought the lines were in different places, I guess.”

  “I don't think you were the one who didn't understand.” Todd's voice was tight. “If it was supposed to be just sex, then he should've stuck with that. Anyone would've been confused by the signals he sent out.”

  “Thanks.” I took another bite of my ice cream. “Sorry for bailing on you earlier and then calling you to complain.”

  “What're friends for? Besides, I need to look out for my scene partner.” His words took on a teasing note. “My intentions aren't entirely selfless.”

  “I see that.” I sighed. “I'm going to let you go. You and Hiram deserve to have some drama-free time together.”

  “Will you be okay?”

  “Yeah.” I set the ice cream carton on the coffee table. “I'm going to veg in front of the TV for the rest of the day.”

  “I don't like the idea of you being alone.”

  “Gavin and Carrie will be home tomorrow afternoon. I'll be fine.” I forced myself up off the couch and carried the ice cream into the kitchen.

  “If you need someone, call, and I'll come right over,” he offered. “Or you can come over here. Hiram won't mind either way.”

  “I'll call if I need you again,” I promised.

  “You better.”

  I put the half-empty carton into the freezer and leaned back against the counter. Without the distraction of Todd, the loft was way too quiet. I'd grown up in a fairly quiet house, but this was different. This was the kind that came with knowing no one else was around. An empty sort of silence.

  I opened up one of the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of Blanton's whiskey. I had no idea if it was any good, but I knew it had to be quality. Gavin wouldn't have bought it any other way. I'd buy him a new bottle and take any lecture he and Carrie sent my way. I wanted something to dull what I was feeling, and I didn't want wine.

  I poured myself a glass and didn't even bother to sip. I coughed as it went down, burning to my toes. It was pretty good. I cou
ld taste hints of caramel and vanilla, which was what I concentrated on as I gulped another mouthful. I wasn't going to become a regular whiskey drinker, but it would definitely do what I wanted.

  The rest of the day and night passed in a blur, not because it went by fast, but because everything was fuzzy. At some point, I turned the TV on, but I didn't really pay any attention to what I was watching. All that mattered was that it was noise. I needed the sounds to drown out all the thoughts screaming in my head.

  I'd heard the term “warring” to describe conflicting emotions or thoughts, but I hadn't really understood it until now. That was what it felt like. Two sides fighting for control. While my brain knew I'd done the right thing, it didn't stop my heart, or body, from wanting him.

  I repeated to myself that it was better to have ended things now rather than to get in even deeper and then have things fall apart. Because they would. We weren't on the same page, not with what we wanted or what we expected, and that could lead nowhere but disaster.

  I'd done the right thing.

  None of that helped me feel any better. So I wallowed. Wallowed in whiskey and ice cream and mindless television until I finally fell asleep.

  Dreamless oblivion was mine all night. No tossing and turning for me. Nope. Just...nothing. Nothing until a shrill sound cut through my head hours later and I remembered that I had virtually no tolerance for alcohol.

  I swore as my hand hit something hard and then realized that my eyes weren't open. The curtains had been drawn, so I didn't have to experience the pain of sunlight, but my eyelids still felt like they were made of sandpaper. I ignored the throbbing in my head as I grabbed for my phone again.

  My alarm was still going off, but it took me a minute to realize why.

  Shit. Carrie and Gavin's plane had just landed.

  I stood too quickly, and my stomach lurched. I clapped a hand over my mouth and ran to the bathroom. I made it in time and hunched over the toilet, thoroughly regretting the choices I'd made the night before. Not breaking things off with Dax. That, I didn't regret, but the way I'd handled it was coming back to bite me in the ass.