“Sometimes I’m not sure I did.” That’s what he said.

I ring the bell and wait, his words haunting me. It doesn’t matter. I’m just going to drop off his bags and go.

Nothing happens for a while, and I send the staircase a longing glance. Crap. I ring again, shifting the bags to my other hand.

In my memory, I see the way he’d looked in the metallic blue shirt that made his eyes glow, his smile, his teasing.

Before I can analyze why the thought of his teasing makes my face warm and my heart beat faster, the door unlocks and swings open.

A tall guy dressed in shorts and holding a towel in one hand is standing at the opening, giving me a once-over—but it’s not Jesse. Definitely not. This one’s blond with soft brown eyes and his powerful chest appears devoid of tattoos. His fair hair is wet, as if he just emerged from the shower.

You know your mind is stuck in a rut when you find the lack of tattoos on a man’s bare chest strange…

Pulling myself together, trying not to stare at the guy’s powerful physique or the red lines on his pecs—are those scratches? Like from a woman’s nails?—I lift the bags in front of me.

His eyes narrow a fraction, focusing on the bags. “Yeah? Can I help you?”

“These are Jesse’s. Could you please give them to him?”

“What’s in there?” He leans over them. “Are those clothes?”

“Yeah. He knows what they are.” I lift the bags again, but he doesn’t take them. “New clothes. He bought them.”

“And who are you?” His gaze is back on me, and I squirm under the scrutiny.

“Just… please give these to him?” I drop the bags and turn to go.

“Hey, wait a sec.” A heavy hand drops on my shoulder, and I yelp, stumbling and twisting around to shove at him.

“Let go.”

“Girl, what’s your problem?” He lifts his hands, his eyes comically wide, but he’s still crowding me, so that I press my back to the wall of the landing. “I only wanted to tell you he’s here, and you can give them to him yourself.”

Cold sweat is running down my back. My breath is frozen in my lungs. He’s towering over me, and he smells all wrong—not at all like Jesse. He reaches for me and I gasp, my legs folding under me. I slide down the wall.

He curses, grabs my arm—and then stumbles sideways, releasing me. “The hell?”

“Damn you, Travis, move away from her,” a familiar male voice snaps, and Jesse is there, pushing the guy away. He bends over and puts a hand on my cheek. “You okay, Embers?”

His touch should freak me out even more—Jesse’s just as tall as this other guy, Travis, and even more muscled—but I find myself leaning into his hand.

“Let’s get you inside,” he says, and I let him pull me to my feet, let him slip his arm around me. It feels so good, being with him.

“Go to hell, asshole,” Travis mutters behind us. “That’s what I was trying to do anyway, get her inside, bring her over to you. What crawled up your ass and died, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Jesse says as he tugs me through the hallway, “but I hope it’s not the same thing that died in yours. It stinks.”

I stifle laughter as he leads me through an open door, and then turns and closes it behind us. “You didn’t just say that to him.”

“Wanna bet?” That infectious grin is back, and I hadn’t realized until now how much I’d missed it. How afraid I was I wouldn’t see it again.

“You often fight like that?”

At the muffled sound of soft plastic hitting the door, he grins without turning and yells, “Fuck off!”

“JJ…”

He sets me down on a bed—his bed, my mind belatedly realizes—and crouches in front of me. “Ignore the idiot. Sorry about that.”

“Not his fault. I’m jumpy.”

“Don’t you dare worry about him. He keeps me up every night. I swear, I’ve never known a guy to be so damn noisy during sex.”

My mouth opens and closes. “You and him…?”

It’s his turn to gape at me.

Then he laughs. I love the sound, deep and resonant, and the way he throws back his head. “God, no, he brings chicks here and bangs them in his room next door. Plus, I’m into women.” He wipes the back of his hand over his mouth and quietens, gazing at me. “I’m definitely into women.”

Caught in the blue-green of his eyes, so intense now, I couldn’t move if the world ended. “Good to know,” I hear myself whisper, as if from a distance.

My reply seems to amuse him. A corner of his mouth curls up.

Then he takes my face in his hands. “Embers, I have a question of my own to ask you. I need you to tell me why Travis frightened you so much.”

“I was bullied at school by this guy and his friends.” Still caught in his eyes, in his spell. “He was tall and strong, and he liked overpowering me.”

His mouth twists. “What was his name?”

“Nick.”

“Nick.” His hold on my face is so hard it’s bruising. “Nick what?”

“Nick Harris.”

“Is he still around? Is he bothering you?”

“No, I…” I pull back and his hands fall away. “Haven’t seen him in years.”

I think. If the guy I saw across the street the other day wasn’t him, and thinking it might be him sends icy shivers down my spine.

“Good. He’s lucky. I’d feed him his fucking balls.” Jesse rises on his knees until his face is right in front of mine. “He’s gone, but he’s left scars. Invisible, unlike mine, but real. Are you scared of me?”

“No,” I whisper and lift a hand to stroke his face. “No, I’m not.” I trail it over his soft lips, and he draws it into his mouth. I gasp, fire spilling down my arm to my chest and straight to my belly.

What is he doing? I feel like I’m on fire, even after I withdraw my finger from the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, the velvet of his lips.

“You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, his eyes smoldering. “You should be afraid of me.”

Then he cups my face again and kisses me.

Chapter Twelve

Jesse

Sweet, soft, hot with a taste of strawberries, her lips part under mine. Like candy dipped in hot fudge, sprinkled with almonds… I moan as I deepen the kiss and lick her mouth, desperate for more. It’s as if I’ve been waiting for this kiss all my life. In fact, I can’t remember kissing any other girl. Never wanted to. And now…

Now I can’t get enough of her. I climb over her, pushing her on her back on the bed and crawl over her, lie between her legs. I’m diamond hard, my dick throbbing painfully against the zipper of my jeans, trying to burst out, enter her.

The idea of pushing into her has my hips jerking before I even realize I’m doing it. I grab one of her pretty legs, pull it up to wrap it around my hip and stroke up her thigh, my fingers sliding over silky skin.

Damn, this girl…

Her hands land on my shoulders. She digs her short nails into my flesh, and the pain feels good as I keep kissing her, exploring her mouth with my tongue. She moans, and fuck, my cock twitches, ready to go. Christ, I wanna do things with her I’ve never done before—like lick her all over, kiss her until we both pass out from lack of oxygen, hold her… never let her go.

I break the kiss and scramble back, struggling to get my breathing under control.

“Dammit. I didn’t mean to do that.” Liar. Fucking liar. I’ve been dying to do this since I first laid eyes on her.

Her fingertips trail over her reddened lips, her eyes wide. Sprawled on my ratty blankets, one strap of her blouse hanging off her shoulder, she looks like a dream come true.

But a dream, still, and I shouldn’t. Not with her. Because she matters to me, I realize with a jolt. She matters like no other girl before.

I’m so fucked. This wasn’t supposed to happen. If she doesn’t hate me now, she will, and then…

“JJ.” And how can I push her away when she calls me this, when she looks at me like I’m something I’m not?