I can’t say to him, yes, eventually we’ll have sex. For starters, that would be awkward, and secondly, I just . . . can’t. So I answer the only way I can. “I think we’re dating. Aren’t we?” There’s no promise there. No timeline or deadline. That was a safe answer.

He smiles. “I guess I’m not being very clear here. I want to know, are we exclusive?”

“Oh,” I squeak out. “I’m not dating anyone else if that’s what you are asking.”

“So do you want to . . . I don’t know, be exclusive?”

I meet his gaze once more and smile faintly. He is a gorgeous man. “Okay,” I agree. “But Vick, I need . . .” Ugh, how do I say this? I need time before we do anything sexual? I’m just not ready? Which is total bullshit as I would have gone all the way with Connor last night. But that was a mistake.

A big drunken mistake.

“I know,” Vick pipes up, saving me. “I don’t mind waiting, Demi. Sometimes taking your time is the best way.”

My heart pings. Damn, he’s so sweet. We lay back, rolling toward each other and spend the next hour making out under the stars. When I drop him off at home, he kisses my forehead.

“Thank you. Tonight was awesome.”

“Anytime.” I smile back.

“Meet tomorrow?” he asks, hope rich in his tone.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

After I leave his house, I head straight home. The garage is locked up, and the lights in Connor’s apartment are off. I try not to let the disappointment set in. Why should I be disappointed? As I park my car and turn it off, I let my forehead thump against the steering wheel. “You have some serious issues, Demi,” I tell myself.

The summer days move on, long and lazy, the way they should. Vick and I see each other every night for the next two weeks. Somehow Jeff manages to get the few odd jobs I had for him done, but he avoids me at all costs, and once they’re completed he doesn’t even ask for the remainder of the money I owe him. I stopped by their house to drop it off, but no one answered the door. I’ve called Wendy almost every day, and she won’t answer my calls. It hurts that they’re giving me the cold shoulder when all I was trying to do was help.

Connor and I barely speak. When we do, it’s polite. He helps carry groceries in, and he’s changed the oil in my car, but conversation has been minimal. Dusty has started working with Connor. They’re rebuilding an old sports bike, and he’s always very chatty with me when he sees me. But I can’t deny . . . the tension between Connor and me is bothering me. I seldom fall asleep without it drifting through my mind.

Roxy has also been over more, always inviting me to join them for dinner or whatever outing they’re about to go on. Not that I would have accepted the invitation under the circumstances, but the way Connor’s eyes always seem to drift away when she asks speaks volumes. Of course, I always decline. Like I need to see Connor and Roxy side by side. Ugh! It’s bad enough she spends the night, and I’m tortured thinking about what they’re doing, wondering if he kisses her anything like he kissed me. I hate myself for thinking about it.

So I’ve focused on Vick. Handsome, funny and charming Vick. We go hiking, fishing, shopping, and I even join him and his uncle on a late night job and help paint. When he brings me home afterward, he opens his truck door for me and helps me out. The first bay of the garage is open and the second is closed. My heart beat speeds up a bit. Vick and Connor haven’t met yet. Somehow I’ve avoided having them in one place at the same time. Taking a deep breath, I pray Connor doesn’t come out of the garage.

“Fuck!” a deep voice yells scaring me to death. I rush inside the garage to see what’s happened. Connor is kicking the bike he and Dusty have been working on, but not hard enough to do any real damage to it. He’s shirtless, and his face is red, the large veins down his neck and arms are popping out as his body is tensed in anger.

“Are you okay?” I pant, fear pumping adrenaline through my veins.

His gaze whips up to mine, and he opens his mouth to respond, but his line of sight moves directly behind me, and his mouth snaps shut. Looking over my shoulder, I see Vick standing behind me.

“Everything okay?” Vick asks me, cautiously as he eyes the garage.

Looking back to Connor, I ask, “Is it? You scared me to death.” I give a little smile, hoping he knows I was only worried about him.

“I’m good,” Connor grumbles. “Sorry I scared you.”

There’s a proper etiquette when you happen to be the person who knows two people that don’t know each other, and you’re standing right in front of them.

You should introduce them.

Dear Abby would smack me right now.

Because for some reason, my manners have escaped me, and Vick takes the lead.

I explained to Vick who Connor is, so he’s aware of the situation—minus the ‘we almost had sex weeks ago’ part—but this is the first time there’s been an opportunity to meet.

Walking up to Connor, gingerly stepping over tools and random parts, Vick holds out his hand. “I’m Vick, Demi’s boyfriend.”

What? Are we using that word? My eyes widen at his admission and Connor’s eyes narrow as he looks from Vick to me. I quickly tame my features and look away, unsure of what to say here. I mean, I guess Vick is my boyfriend. We’ve been dating, right? And we did agree to see one another exclusively, so yeah, boyfriend would be a term one might use to describe his place in my life. But why does it feel . . . off?

Connor gives his hand a quick shake and says, “Nice to meet you.” Giving Vick and me a quick once over, he notes, “Painting today?”

Vick smirks as he looks back at me. “Yeah, Demi joined me and my Uncle on a job. Though I think she got more paint on herself than the walls.”

“Looks that way,” Connor agrees though his eyes are staring at his bike. Maybe only because I know him well, it’s extremely obvious that he does not want to talk to Vick.

“Yeah, well, my walls still turned out better,” I joke.

Vick steps over the parts and approaches me. “You did a great job, hon,” he coos as he gives me a chaste kiss. Heat racks my body, embarrassment setting in. When Vick pulls away, Connor shakes his head and yanks a rag off the table next to him, wiping his hands. Suddenly, I just want to go. I just want to get as far away from Connor as possible.

“Care for a glass of wine before you go?” I offer as I move to exit the garage.

“Definitely,” Vick agrees enthusiastically.

“Don’t let her have too much,” Connor yells, causing me to turn, not understanding what he means. “Sometimes when she gets drunk she blacks out and can’t remember anything.”

Ouch.

Did my stomach just drop to the ground? Wow. Connor just took a shot at me. It’s the first time he’s acknowledged the night we kissed since I pretended to be so drunk I didn’t remember what happened. Now, he’s calling me out.

Right now?

Really?

I’m floored. I can’t even process this moment.

“She seems like she handles herself pretty well,” Vick disagrees as he throws an arm over my shoulders.

“You two have a good night.” Connor snorts, ignoring him as he turns his back to us.

Looking down at me, paint spackled all over me, Vick smiles as he takes my hand and leads me inside to my kitchen. My heart is still hammering in my chest. Connor is mad at me. Now I know, for sure, I’ve hurt him—or at least made him angry. He just made it abundantly clear. But he’s with Roxy. How can he even have the audacity to be mad at me? At the sink, Vick wets a paper towel and brushes some of my hair from my face.

“Damn, you have some beautiful eyes, woman,” he groans as he dabs the napkin on my face. I force myself to smile at his compliment and try my best to shake thoughts of Connor.