The man standing with her brother at the trunk of a small, crappy-looking Toyota sedan had the serious look of someone who was maybe hearing something he didn’t want to be hearing. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and while one hand rested on the raised lid of the trunk, the other swept through the chocolate-colored strands, drawing them away from a face that Ashton thought was the most beautiful one she’d ever seen.

Without alerting Aaron or his friend, Ashton rounded the front of the car where it sat idle next to the curb and climbed in through the open back door. She set her worn canvas duffel bag at her feet and waited.

They’d realize she was there soon enough.

Through the still-open door, scraps of their conversation filtered in.

“A, you know it’s not a problem . . .”

“You have no fucking idea . . .”

“I just want to make sure . . .”

“Dunk, let’s just go already . . .”

The pain she heard in her brother’s words were a sharp blade to her heart. He was hurting, no doubt still reeling from the rejection and the judgment of his parents, their parents, who were supposed to love him unconditionally.

Well, screw that, Ashton was going to love him enough that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought.

“Ash, what the hell are you doing?” Aaron’s voice was right next to her, his shadow falling across her lap as he stood in the open door and stared down at her. “You need to go back inside.”

“No.” She didn’t bother to elaborate. Why would she? Her answer wasn’t going to change.

“Yes, Ashton. Now.”

“You don’t get to boss me around, A. I said no. I meant no.”

“Little, I—” Aaron began, only to be cut off by the storm of words Ashton had been gathering inside.

“No, no, no. I won’t go back in there and play ‘happy family’ with them. Not when they would ask you to leave, exclude you. You’re my brother, and I love you. I won’t stay here. It’s not fucking fair—and you aren’t going to change my mind, so don’t bother.” She crossed her arms, the movement catching the low neckline of her stretched out T-shirt. She plucked it loose, straightening herself as she felt another pair of eyes staring at her from the front seat.

Deep, rich, liquid brown. Chocolate, like his hair. “What are you doing in my car, Kitten?” Oh, damn, even his voice is like chocolate.

“It’s Ashton, not Kitten. And I’m catching a ride. Thanks.” She smirked at him, hoping that if she maintained a strict level of sass, he wouldn’t question the fact she’d just invited herself along on his road trip with her brother.

It worked. He shrugged, turning back around and putting the key in the ignition. Ashton felt every click of it sliding into place, as if he was doing it as slowly as possible, ensuring that every movement he made was one that reverberated around her and through her.

“Aaron, man, get in the car and let’s get the hell out of here.” He spoke loudly as he revved the car, but Aaron didn’t move.

He was still staring down at her and, though she tried to ignore him, Ashton couldn’t help but look up at her big brother with pleading eyes.

Please don’t leave without me.

“Ash,” he said in a whisper, “you should stay. There’s no reason for you to be on the outs with them, too.” He smiled at his own inadvertent pun, since he’d literally just outed himself to his parents, but it faded quickly as he leaned in, speaking ever more fervently. “It’s just a hump. They’ll get over it, and when they do, I don’t want you to have missed out on anything.”

“Except I will have missed out on something. Time with you. You’re the one in the right—there’s no question of that. If Austin could get away with it, you know he’d want to come too.”

It was true. So true that Ashton felt a surety in her bones that didn’t come around often. Ever, really. Aussie was the youngest of them, seventeen to Ashton’s nineteen and Aaron’s twenty-one, and so couldn’t be dragged along on this trip. But the siblings were close, and it was something Ashton relied on more than she might have been willing to admit.

At least, before today. Before the ultimatum that was sending Aaron away.

Now, she didn’t care who knew. Her brothers were important. And she wouldn’t turn her back on Aaron. He didn’t know he needed her, but Ashton knew.

And she wasn’t going to let him down.

“How do you plan to get back to school?” Aaron’s question was a logical one and she could tell from the look on his face that he thought he had her cornered.

But he was wrong.

“Bianca lives about an hour from your campus. She’s going to pick me up when she drives back down there in a couple of weeks.” She smirked, trying to convey her triumph at overcoming his logical but surmountable obstacle.

“And all your stuff? That old bag can’t possibly have everything you need for the next two weeks, let alone the entire school year.”

“I’ll worry about that later.”

“Worry about it now.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

The siblings glared at one another, a battle of wills that both were determined to win and neither was willing to concede any ground in.

“Jesus Christ, you two. Aaron, get in the car. Ashton, put your seatbelt on. We’ll figure this out when we aren’t being watched though the window by your fucking parents.” The voice that broke the standoff rippled across her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as she clicked the safety belt into place. And though Aaron made a point to slam the door—hard as he could, Ashton could tell—before skirting around the trunk and climbing into the passenger seat, he too acquiesced to his friend’s command.

While Aaron was still outside, Ashton leaned forward, as far as she could while buckled in the back seat and whispered, “Thank you, whatever your name is.”

He nodded. It was a curt, precise motion and Ashton found herself bizarrely attracted to it. “Dunk.”

A lightning-bolt moment. In all the confusion and anger of the fallout between Aaron and their parents, Ashton didn’t put two and two together, except now . . . “Ah, you’re Dunk.” She didn’t quite mean to put so much flirtatiousness in her tone, but she’d been hearing about her brother’s roommate and best friend for quite a while, though she’d yet to meet him, and she really should have known it was him.

“Guilty,” came the reply in a tone that matched her own, which was accompanied by a blatant up-and-down look that made it clear he was checking her out.

He was flirting with her. She was sure of it.

And she liked it.

A strange urge to start talking to him about anything and everything drifted in like a fog. Opening her mouth to say she-didn’t-know-what, she was interrupted by Aaron settling into the passenger seat and killing the moment. Which she was more than relieved about, given that she really wasn’t sure where her mind and runaway mouth were about to take their conversation.

Besides, she thought, he’s your brother’s best friend. It’s not a good idea. Not that it stopped her from taking one last look at the dark hair and handsome profile of the man driving her and her brother away from the house that was no longer a home.

It was a sobering thought—one which reminded her that she was in the car not to flirt with the driver, or even to check him out. She was there for her brother.

“Everyone ready?” Dunk didn’t wait for an answer, looking over his shoulder briefly before pulling away from the house and starting their journey.

“No,” came Aaron’s reply as they reached the end of the street, his eyes locked on Ashton’s where he’d twisted around in his seat, clearly telegraphing that he wasn’t happy about her presence in the car.

“Yes,” she replied, not breaking their eye contact, determined that he see she wouldn’t be moved.

Dunk’s laughing words were the last spoken. “This is going to be a long trip.”

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We’re here.”

Ashton startled awake, Dunk’s warm breath caressing her cheek as he gently shook her shoulder. “’Mwake,” she mumbled, blinking her eyes in an attempt to clear the groggy haze that had formed when she’d fallen asleep about an hour into their drive.

“Your brother is already inside.” He gestured towards the building that Ashton knew housed apartments that were typically rented to students of the nearby college. “Let’s go.”

“What’s Dunk stand for? Mean? From?” Her words were thick, slow, and embarrassment crept up her cheeks as her mind processed the jumble of words she’d just dumped on this man.

Jesus, did he get more handsome while I was asleep?

“Duncan. It’s my last name.”

“What’s your first?”

“Ah, that’s for me to know, Kitten.” He leaned over her and pressed the red button to release her seatbelt. “And you to find out.”

“What kind of answer is that? Come on, are you like—oh, you know, what’s his name with the spinning wheel and gold thread? I really hated that story when I was a kid, because what’s up with all the fairytales where women have to give up their babies to a man? If she wants to, then yeah, sure, go for it, but otherwise, that’s a hard no from me. When I become a mom, you’d have to pry my baby away from me, and even then I’d fight you.”

His laugh was low, the burn across her cheeks hot and the moment fraught. She wanted to hang her head or maybe sink into the seat, but instead she half-smiled when he said, “I’d never take a baby from you. But I might give you one,” while winking at her in a way that eased the flush of embarrassment she was feeling and replaced it with a snicker at the cheesiness of his offer.

They stared at one another for the briefest moment, before the brush of his arm across her body—so unexpectedly sensual that Ashton could feel her body tense—made the blood rush to the place between her legs that suddenly craved Duncan’s touch. A strangled noise passed through her lips and she was thankful that he’d wasted no time in turning away, striding back towards the apartment building as if nothing had happened.

As if he hadn’t implied, even jokingly, that he’d be the father of her baby.

Yeah, one half of her had smiled, but the other half had frozen in place, trying not to betray how actually-kind-of amazing that sounded.

Dragging her sluggish self from the car took more effort than she would cop to, should her brother or his roommate ask, and as she slowly made her way into the building she replayed her brief brush with Dunk—Duncan’s—arm.

What pairs well with Duncan? Her question kept her amused as she wandered into the lobby, looking around for some sign of where she should be going next, and then as she waited for one or the other of the boys to come back downstairs and show her the way. She’d sent her brother a text to ask him where she should go, and his curt response of “back home” wasn’t especially helpful.

So, she waited.

By the time Aaron came back downstairs, she’d made friends with three people and been invited to a party the following night, but failed to come up with a first name she thought suited Duncan.