I’d give in, slipping my hand or the wand below the covers. I’d try to keep my mind empty as the acute throbbing would begin and this invisible cord inside me would spin tight, but it never failed. Just before release pounded through me, just as the cord unraveled, pulling all the muscles in my legs taut, I would see dark brown eyes and full, knowing lips.

  I’d come seeing Brock’s face.

  And each time afterward, with my heart rate slowing, I wanted to smack myself upside the head. Picturing him while doing that to myself seemed wrong.

  Yet it felt incredibly good.

  Even though I didn’t want it to, it always felt beyond amazing.

  * * *

  The Wednesday before Avery and crew were coming to the Academy, I learned from a quick call with her that the guys wanted to try out a new bar in Shepherdstown that also served dinner, and I was obnoxiously nervous about this.

  I tried to hide it, because it was so stupid.

  As lame as it was to admit, I hadn’t been to a bar since that night all those years ago, and knowing it would be the first time I’d stepped into one had me dwelling on how my last trip to a bar had turned out. Sitting in my office, I was thrown back to that night.

  Katie held my gaze for a moment and then uncrossed her slender, bare arms from her bedazzled boobs. She reached for the drink she’d brought with her over to where I was sitting. “How are you even in this bar? You’re only, like, eighteen.”

  “Twenty,” I corrected her with a sigh. I looked sixteen on a good day, but tonight . . . tonight I thought I’d looked my age. “I’m actually twenty.”

  “Still not of legal drinking age.” The little sparkles and beads jiggled as she lifted the double shot and tossed it back in one impressive swallow. “If Jax or Calla catch you in here, they’re going to flip.”

  Calla wasn’t at the bar tonight. At least I hadn’t seen her, and Jax didn’t seem to have noticed me yet. Not exactly surprising. I tended to blend right in.

  The door opened and some guy strode in, shouting Brock’s name. I tensed and then deflated when Brock pushed away from the bar. “Hey!” he shouted in return. “Where’ve you been, man?”

  “Yeah.” Katie shook her head. “You sure you don’t want to me walk you out right now?”

  I nodded, not exactly trusting myself to speak at the moment, because there was a good chance I might start hurling curse words at everyone and anything.

  Katie walked over to where I sat. Her fruity perfume reminded me of the drinks my mom drank whenever we went to the beach. She kissed my cheek. “Tonight’s not going to be any different, Jilly. I know these things.” Straightening, she tapped her finger on the side of her head. “It’s a gift, but right now, it’s a curse. He still sees you the way he did when he took you to prom. That’s not changing tonight. You should go home.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. That hurt—really hurt, cutting deep into my chest, through bone and marrow.

  Katie left then, and I sat on the stool for several moments, not moving and barely breathing as I watched Brock. I’d barely gotten a chance to talk to him since I got here. He’d seen me. He’d looked at me in surprise and he’d eyed me—eyed me up and down. Brock had hugged me, and then he told me we’d be leaving soon. Then Colt and Reece showed up, and I’d retreated to the table before they remembered I wasn’t twenty-one.

  Grabbing my purse off the table, I pried it open and dug out my phone. I saw that it was now getting close to nine. Oh God. Would we still be able to go to the steakhouse? I wasn’t sure what time they closed. My gaze flicked up as anxiousness burned a hole straight through my stomach. I had no idea how long I sat there, but when I checked the time again, it was past nine.

  This wasn’t happening.

  Tonight was supposed to be different—special.

  I couldn’t let this happen.

  Gathering up every ounce of courage that existed inside of me, I slid off the barstool and started walking forward. At the very last minute, I veered to the left and before I knew what I was doing, I was walking to the ladies’ room.

  Oh God, I sucked.

  Once inside the obsessively clean restroom, I dug around until I found the tube of red lipstick. I reapplied it with a shaky hand as I gave myself a little pep talk. I was going to leave the bathroom and walk right up to Brock. Wasn’t like I was interrupting him. I would ask if we were leaving soon, and he would then realize the time and how long I’d been waiting. We’d leave and tonight—tonight would get back on track.

  I grabbed the little bottle of perfume, gave myself a spritz, and then smiled at my reflection. My bangs had fallen back over my forehead, dammit. Nothing could be done about that.

  Slipping the strap of my bag over my shoulder, I walked back into the bar. I passed the group of girls, and luckily, Kristen wasn’t attached to his side when I reached them. She was standing there, though, her head bowed alongside another girl’s. They were whispering and giggling about something. Reece saw me first. His brows lifting, and my heart pounding, I touched Brock’s arm.

  Brock turned sideways and looked down. He was well over six feet, and I was barely pushing five foot six. He towered over me, and I barely came up to his chest. “Jillybean,” he said in that deep, rough voice of his. “Where in the world have you been?”

  “Um, I’ve been talking to Katie,” I said. “She had to head back to work.”

  He grinned as he reached behind and picked up his beer from the bar. “She didn’t even come and say hi to me.”

  “Well . . .”

  Brock dropped his arm around my shoulders and drew me against his side. He smelled wonderful. A fresh, crisp scent that reminded me of the outdoors. My entire body shivered. “I was just looking for you, actually. Thought you ran off without me.”

  “No.” I couldn’t stop the smile racing across my face.

  “Good to hear that.” He squeezed my shoulder. “It would’ve hurt my feelings.”

  Colton turned from Reece and he had that look on his face, that off-duty cop look. “Hey, Jillian.”

  “Hi,” I squeaked out, because Brock’s hand was moving on my arm. Well, it wasn’t his entire hand. It was just his thumb. He was tracing a circle along my skin.

  He lifted his bottle. “Didn’t realize you’d turned twenty-one.”

  “Um,” I mumbled.

  At that exact moment, Jax appeared behind the bar. His eyes widened when he saw me standing next to Brock. “Hey,” he said, crossing his arms. “You know I got mad love for you girl, but you can’t be in here. Twenty-one and under is only on Wednesday nights . . . thank God,” he added under his breath. “When did you even get here?”

  I sighed inwardly. Considering I’d been here for two hours, it was kind of embarrassing how easily I went unnoticed. I could probably strip naked and no one would see me.

  “Oh hell.” Brock slid his arm off my shoulders and put his beer on the bar. “Didn’t even think about that.”

  My face was burning as he looked down at me. “It’s okay. We were—we were leaving anyway, right?”

  Brock’s brows knitted together. “What? Oh! Shit. What time is it?”

  “Um.” I started to dig my phone out, but he’d already pulled his out of his back pocket.

  “Here,” a soft voice interrupted, and I looked up. It was Kristen. She was holding two shot glasses. “Do one with me, Brock.”

  Brock glanced down at me, still holding his phone.

  “Come on,” she coaxed, and I stiffened as my fingers tightened around the strap of my purse. “You promised me.”

  “I did.” He took the shot, but he didn’t drink. His eyes, so dark they were almost black, met mine. “Damn, Jillybean, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it had gotten so late.”

  Fully aware that Kristen was waiting, like, right beside us, I said, “It’s okay.”

  His gaze flickered beyond me, and an odd shiver coursed down my spine. He was looking at Kristen. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?”

&nbsp
; Tomorrow evening? I blinked slowly. I was planning to head back to Shepherd, and he would be leaving with my father and the Lima Team. So why was—?

  “How about we grab something to eat tomorrow? Yeah.” Brock’s smile could stop traffic. Right then it stopped my heart. “That would work better.”

  “What?” I breathed, thinking I didn’t hear him right, because he wouldn’t be home tomorrow. He wouldn’t have time.

  “We can grab dinner then,” he continued, lifting the shot glass with an easy grin. “Spend some one-on-one time together.”

  My body flushed hot and then cold as realization sunk in. He was ditching me. He was ditching me for his friends and for Kristen, and there’d be no dinner tomorrow night, because he wouldn’t be here. He was flying out with Dad, and Dad liked to get to the airport early.

  “Jillian,” Jax said, his brows lifting.

  Flushing to the color of my lipstick, my gaze darted around the group frantically. Reece was looking away—looking at his long-time girlfriend Roxy, who was down at the other end of the bar. Colton was studying his shoes. The guy I didn’t recognize was smiling at the group of girls, oblivious to everything except the girls. And Kristen . . . Kristen was looking at me the way every girl looks at that girl, the one who has no clue—the one who gives you second-hand embarrassment.

  Oh God.

  “Yeah. Um, that’s cool.” I backed up, blinking back the sudden tears in my eyes. This was so humiliating. I needed to go. I needed to leave right now. “Tomorrow is fine,” I croaked out, knowing that tomorrow wasn’t going to happen.

  Tonight was no different than any other night, and I’d been so dumb to think otherwise.

  “Jillybean.” He turned to put the shot on the bar. His mouth was drawn in a tight, flat line. “Hey, let me walk you out.”

  I smiled, kept on smiling even as his face began to blur. “No. That’s not necessary. It’s okay. I have to go anyway.”

  Brock started to frown as his eyes narrowed. “Jillian—”

  “Bye!” I chirped out, giving Colton and Reece a quick wave. “See you guys later.”

  They might’ve said goodbye or they could’ve said nothing. I didn’t know. Blood pounded in my ears, and I couldn’t hear anything as I hurried through the bar, dodging the crowds of people talking and laughing. My hands shook as I pushed open the door and raced out into the balmy night air.

  A light tap on the door dragged me out of the memory. Feeling shaken and sick to my stomach, experiencing all that messy and raw heartbreak like it was seconds ago instead of years ago, I looked up and saw Brock standing there like he’d been called up out of the mists of the past.

  Why did he have to be here right now? Why? Because seeing him right now would be just as bad as seeing him immediately after masturbating to thoughts of him. Painfully fucking awkward.

  He took one look at me and concern pinched his features. “Hey, you all right?”

  “Yeah.” I swallowed down the knot clogging my throat as I watched him walk into my office. “I was . . .” Trailing off, I didn’t have a good excuse to why I was sitting at my desk, staring at the wall like someone had kicked my cat into oncoming traffic. Lifting a hand, I tucked my hair back. “You haven’t been standing there long, have you?”

  “Long enough.”

  I tensed.

  Brock’s dark gaze roamed over my face, missing nothing. He said nothing as he came forward and then sat in the chair across from my desk. Several seconds passed and then he said, “Sometimes you get that look on your face. Like you’re a thousand miles away. As if you’re someplace else. And I think I know where.”

  Oh God.

  My eyes widened.

  “And I’ve seen that look before,” he continued, his gaze finding mine. His broad shoulders tensed. “Because I . . . I put that look on your face before.”

  Sucking in a sharp breath, I pushed back from the desk using my toes. I gripped the arms of my chair. “I wasn’t thinking about that. Not at all. I was just lost in thought. Seriously.”

  His brows lifted in surprise, and he stared at me like I’d just admitted to secretly being Batgirl or something. “You . . . you never cease to surprise me.”

  I laughed nervously. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  Shaking his head as if he was almost stuck in a bubble of wonder, he then leaned forward, pressing his hands together. “You protect me.”

  “What?”

  “You protected me back then,” he said, his voice oddly hoarse. “And you are still doing it now, aren’t you? You don’t want me to think about that night, because you don’t want me to be upset.”

  My God, was I that easily readable?

  “Even though I know it still fucks with you. It still fucks with me. It always fucks with me, but you were the one hurt. I was the one who screwed up, and yet you still try to protect me.”

  I was going to break the arms of my chair.

  “And I don’t deserve that,” he said, a muscle flexing along his jaw. “I sure as hell didn’t deserve it then, and I still don’t deserve it now.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I struggled to get air into my lungs. “Brock . . .”

  “But I’m going to change that,” he promised, and my eyes flew open. “One day, one day real soon, I will change that.”

  Chapter 16

  “This . . . this would be so perfect.” With one hand on her protruding belly, Teresa turned in a slow circle. “I can almost see the mirror over here, across the wall. The bars right across from it.”

  Avery nodded as she stood next to her friend. “God, this is . . . this is even more than what we expected.”

  I allowed myself a small smile as they roamed the cavernous room lit up by industrial overhead lights. We’d already lost the guys. Jase and Cam had disappeared with Brock about five minutes into the meeting.

  I stood back and let Avery and Teresa do their thing. There were a couple of more spaces that were empty, but I felt this one would work better since it was large enough to be sectioned into more than one space. I’d already gathered part of the information Brock had requested, pricing other classes in the area and their average class size. As I explained to Brock before, there wasn’t a lot of competition.

  “So you think this space would work?” I asked.

  Avery glanced over her shoulder, her eyes bright and warm. “Yes. This would definitely work.”

  “Some of the spaces we looked at before were literally just rooms above businesses that were kept cool by ceiling fans,” Teresa explained. “And let’s not even talk about the condition of the floors in those places.”

  “All right, so at least we know this space could work.” I clasped my hands together as I tapped the pointy toe of my heeled shoe. “The next step is getting a close as possible on an estimate for how much it would cost to convert this space into a dance studio. That’s where you guys would come in,” I explained. “I’ve spent some time looking at floor plans and material, but I figured you two would know exactly what you would need to make this work. So what I would want is an estimate.”

  They exchanged looks and Teresa said, “We can do that.”

  “Easily,” Avery agreed. “When would you need the information?”

  “We have time. We’re nearing the end of the year, so we’re moving into the budgets for spring. If we were to greenlight this project, we’ll need to get permits and all of that lined up. Once we have the estimate, then we’re one step closer.”

  Excitement glimmered in Avery’s eyes. “Do you think this is going to happen?” she asked me.

  “I think Brock is on board. He does have some concerns about cost and profitability, which is normal, but I think there is a lot of growth potential here,” I answered truthfully. “The trick will be getting my father to sign off. He’s open to new ideas, but this is not something he’s ever considered before. I want to have everything lined up before we go to him. We want to position this so it doesn’t even cross his mind to turn it dow
n. I think we can make this work.”

  Avery hobbled from one side to the next, which I guess was her version of her happy dance.

  Giggling, Teresa raised her arms and shook them before waddling over to where I was standing. “Thank you.” She stood on my left side and placed her hand on my arm. “Seriously. I know nothing is official yet, but thank you for wanting to help us and trying to make this possible. Dancing has been such a large part of our lives, that to be able to seriously get involved in it again is nothing short of making a dream come true for us.”

  “No problem.” Blushing a little, I glanced over to where Avery was smiling at us. “So what do you guys think about possible timing if this pans out?”

  “The timing is perfect if we’re looking at the spring before anything starts to get moving,” Avery said, looking toward Teresa. “You’re due by the end of December—”

  “Thank God,” Teresa muttered.

  “By the time classes would be ready, we’d probably be looking at mid-summer, right?”

  Teresa nodded. “Right.”

  There was a sudden burst of male laughter followed by the sound of something fleshy hitting what sounded like a mat.

  Teresa glanced at the double doors with a slight frown. “I really hope Brock isn’t showing them moves.”

  “God, I hope not, because I’m really hungry and don’t want to spend the evening in the emergency room,” Avery agreed.

  I laughed. “If he is, he’ll be gentle with them.” Kind of, I added silently.

  The look on Avery’s face said she knew better. “Maybe we should go find them.”

  “Not necessary,” a male voice announced from the door, and I twisted at the waist. Jase was striding through the doors, his gaze fixed on his wife. “I know you guys were bereft without us, but we’re back.”

  Teresa snorted. “I don’t think bereft is the right word.”

  A second later Cam and Brock entered, and I bet Avery was relieved to see Cam appearing to be in one piece and not limping. He immediately joined the redhead, draping his arms over her narrow shoulders. Speaking too low for me to hear, I guessed by the sudden pink tint to Avery’s cheeks that whatever Cam had said to her was something she was glad I didn’t overhear.