Dammit.

I stare at Jason, who’s helping the girl fill out forms and shit, his face lined with concern, without really seeing them, thoughts buzzing inside my skull like angry bees.

I know what I have to do, and to hell with being afraid. Time to act.

Chapter Seventeen

Amber

“You can do this.” Staring into the full-length mirror of my bedroom, I assess my appearance one last time.

Of course, that’s what I told myself five minutes ago, too.

Kayla said I look good enough to eat. That’s good, right? I smooth down my short silver dress, pat my pendant—made by moi—wiggle my painted toes in my strappy sandals, and remember how Jesse stared at me when I tried the dress on at the shop.

Like he was drinking me up with his eyes. And God, he’d looked so unbelievably handsome in his new shirt and pants.

Despite my best efforts, I peek at my watch again, checking the time. Will he keep his promise, take me to the wedding?

When he walked out of here yesterday morning without a word, after the night we spent together, I got his number from Ev and called him, but he never picked up.

Why?

My face heats at the memory of his body moving against mine, inside mine, of the things he said.

Of course, after that, I had to go and open my big mouth, question everything. I’m beginning to regret it now—but worse still, I may have been right to think this isn’t anything important to him.

Because he isn’t here. And he may not show up at all. There’s your clue, Amber. Open your damn eyes. 

I glance again at my watch.

Kayla left an hour ago, and Ev is going with Micah. Stupid that I counted on Jesse to keep his word. A heartbreaker. A skirt chaser. Stupid that I counted on anyone at all.

Don’t rely on others. Stand on your own two feet. Don’t show weakness. How could I forget my lessons?

Be strong and face your fears. The wedding reception will suck, but you won’t die from it. And then it will be over, and you’ll have survived.

I wander away from the mirror, pushing back irritably a lock of dark hair that has escaped my chignon and is trailing on my cheek. Showing weakness is the best way to get hurt again. On top of that, I told him about my fears, touched him, kissed him, had sex with him.

Oh God… Haven’t I learned anything?

I grab the lion pendant from the wall and sink on my bed, letting it roll on my palm, cool and hard.

Embers. A lost toy. A lost childhood.

He should have this, I think, and the thought wheels through my mind, gathering momentum.

I’ll give it to him. Even if he never comes to pick me up, even if this was all we had. Because he’s still battling demons, and he should have something to hold on to, something to give him strength.

Yeah, if I see him again. Would passing by his apartment to drop the pendant off look weird?

I put the pendant into my purse, undecided. In any case, it’s way past time to leave, and he’s not here. Throttling the disappointment swelling in my chest, I make up my mind to stop wondering and waiting and fretting. I’ll grab a cab and go.

See? I’m a big girl.

I’m already on my feet, my purse slung over my shoulder and my wedding gift in my hands—a set of cute baby clothes I bought for Asher’s and Audrey’s son—when the door buzzer goes off. It’s one of those annoying ding-dong sounds.

Frozen like a deer in headlights, I swallow hard.

Can’t be him. Maybe Kayla forgot something. Or it’s a mistake.

Don’t get your hopes up, girl. He isn’t coming.

And if it’s him?

Dropping my purse on the sofa, I walk as if through water to the door phone and press the button, excited and dreading.

“Who is it?”

“Embers, it’s me, Jesse,” his warm voice says over the speaker. “Look, I know I’m kinda late… There was something I had to take care of, but I’m here now. Let me in?”

Heat spreads down my neck, and I realize I’m smiling.

Oh dear baby Jesus. I need to stop this right now.

I buzz him up without answering, not trusting my voice. I pat my heated cheeks, wonder if I have time to splash some cold water on my face before he comes up—but he’s knocking on my door after what feels like a nanosecond.

Okay, here goes.

I open the door and find him lounging against the doorjamb, that familiar, sexy grin in place. He’s not wearing his baseball cap, and that’s my last conscious thought before my mind goes blank and heat seeps into every part of me.

Wow. Holy crap.

In his new metallic blue shirt that makes his eyes sparkle like shards of topaz, in dark pants and black shoes, he’s drop-dead gorgeous—more gorgeous than any guy has any right to be. So unfair. How can I keep my distance now?

He pushes off the doorframe, sleeves rolled-up, displaying his powerful forearms—all liquid grace and strength.

“Hey,” he says, and the dark undercurrent of his voice pins me to the spot. His gaze sweeps over me, from my head to my painted toes, in a heatwave. “Fuck, you…” He stops, swallows hard, licks his lips. “You’re so pretty.”

My heart is pounding. “You clean up nicely yourself,” I find myself saying, and he gives a husky laugh, his lashes lowering over his eyes.

Man, he’s sexy. I want him to kiss me, to hold me, to touch me like he did two nights ago.

“I’m thirsty,” he says.

“One minute.” I turn toward the kitchen, and my purse slips from my shoulder to the floor with a quiet flop.

He bends and grabs it, though he doesn’t give it back to me, instead watching me with that lazy half-grin, and his eyes hooded.

Whoa. Get yourself together, Amber.

I hurry to the kitchen and pour him a glass from the tap. When I turn, he’s right behind me, and I yelp when he grips my arm to stop me from dropping the glass and harming myself as I flail.

“Jesus, JJ.”

“You make me thirsty,” he whispers, pries the glass from my nerveless fingers and places it on the counter. “Can’t stop thinking about you.”

Then he puts his hands on the counter on either side of me and hems me in, pressing his long, taut body into mine. His face dips and his firm, warm mouth closes over mine. Pressure, heat, and when my lips part under the onslaught, his tongue thrusts inside, and I melt in his hold.

Chocolate and spice, bitter and sweet and scorching, so hot I can’t help the small sounds rising from my chest. I grab his arms, nails digging into his biceps, because I feel as if I’m falling from a skyscraper, tumbling into a dark void.

He breaks the kiss and I stare, dizzy, into his sea-colored eyes. “Damn, girl…” He shakes his head, struggling for breath as I am. “Can’t control myself around you.” He shifts, and his arousal presses into my side, branding me through the dress.

Makes me catch my breath on a gasp.

“I came to take you to the wedding,” he rasps, lifting a hand to my face, staring into my eyes, “and to make you see I want to be with you. I know you’re having doubts, that it was a one-night stand to you, that it means nothing—but it does mean a lot to me. I’ve never felt like this before. Fuck, I’ve never asked this of any girl before, but can you…?” He groans, bending over me. “Christ, Embers.”

He takes my mouth again, before I have a chance to comprehend what he’s telling me, and pushes me up until I lift myself and wrap a leg around him, my ass propped on the edge of the counter.

Be with me. Never felt this way before. Never asked—

Wait. One-night stand? Did he overhear what I said to Kayla –was that why he left without saying goodbye last time?

I push on his chest to break the kiss, to say something, but he shoves my short dress up and his big hand slips underneath it, rough and warm, right between my spread legs. His questing fingers push under my underwear and find my clit.