“So Jarett is here a lot, huh?” Merc asks me casually a few days later, pretending to be totally engrossed in something on his phone, sipping his steaming coffee at the kitchen table.

I shrug. “Maybe?”

He looks up, puts his mug down. “There’s no maybe, sis. I’m not deaf, but I’m getting there after jacking the music volume to the max not to hear you two going at it every night.”

“Oops.” Heat seeps into my face. “Sorry?”

“It’s fine, you little shit. You know it is. I just want you happy. And out of the house before I lose my hearing.”

“I knew you getting all sappy on me wouldn’t last.” I hide my blush behind my own mug, my favorite, a red one with a teddy bear that Octavia gave me when I was little. “Speak your mind or forever hold your peace.”

“Wow, that was random.” He rakes his fingers through his short blond hair. “Are you guys an item now? That was my question.”

“That’s not what you said.”

He cocks a brow at me. “So? Are you? No reason to be shy. You know I approve.”

“You do?” My eyes bug out.

He frowns. “Why are you so shocked? He seems okay. And you like him a lot, so…”

“I do.” I gather my knees to my chest and give him a curious look. “I like him a lot, but I thought…”

“You thought what?”

“That you wouldn’t approve of him.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Well, for starters, he doesn’t talk all that much. And he bangs your sister.” I crack a smile at Merc. “I thought, you know… that you might be unhappy about that.”

“I’m not a caveman, like the one our sister married.”

I grab a bread crumb and throw it at him. “Go away. You love the caveman our sister married.”

“He’s a great guy. But that doesn’t mean I’ll hit any guy you bring home over the head with my club.”

“How disappointing.”

He just stares at me until we both start to laugh.

“Jesus.” He drops his phone on the table and wipes at his eyes. “Can you imagine me with a club, grunting at Jarett when he sits down at breakfast…”

“…and he could grunt back, and you’d communicate with grunts…”

“…and throw bits of bacon at each other.”

“Wait, now that’s gross.”

We laugh some more.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I finally admit, when our laughter has died away. “We’re not really together.”

“Define ‘together.’ Because you sleep together every night, Gigi. You hold hands. You hug. You fuck.”

“But we don’t really talk. Not about the things that matter.”

“Define the things that matter. Why don’t everyday things matter?”

He’s right. But… “We don’t talk about the future. About the gang. If he’ll ever leave it.” I swallow hard. “I don’t think he will. He made this promise to his sick mom to stay in the gang and look after his brother. And he won’t discuss it.”

Merc’s expression darkens. “You’re right, that matters. Quite a fucking lot.”

Yeah.

So are we together when we can’t dream of a future together? When his promise matters more than himself, more than us?

How does that work? Where does it leave us?

How will life go on when he smashes my heart to pieces?

* * *

“So where is he?” Sydney asks the moment I approach her table in the coffee shop. “You brought him along, didn’t you? Say yes.”

“He is right outside, talking to someone.” I take a seat and grab her latte to steal a sip. “He’ll be right in.”

“Does he know I’m here?”

“Ah-huh.”

“And he still came? Damn. Impressive.”

I give her the side-eye. “Okay. Just how horrible were you to him last time you saw him?”

“I wasn’t horrible to him. Maybe a little snarky.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “Hey, I was stressed. Can’t blame a girl.”

Not sure about that. I’m a forgiving person, and I give myself entirely over to the people I care for, like her. But man, she’s been making it hard, and patience isn’t infinite.

“Oh, there he is.” Sydney looks like she’s in dire need of popcorn and soda as she watches Jarett walk into the coffee shop.

I twist in my seat to see what she’s seeing, and yeah, there’s Jarett, his tall frame and broad shoulders filling the door, his presence filling the whole coffee shop, erasing everyone else, the faces and chatter and noise.

With his dark hair and light eyes, the high cheekbones and full lips, with that physique that tells anyone looking that he can hold his own in a fight, he’s turning heads.

And it’s a ringing silence inside my mind as he spots us and smiles before heading our way.

Whoa, he’s gorgeous.

Powerful.

Mine.

“Woo.” Sydney fans herself. “He cleans up nicely.”

“Why are you acting like you haven’t seen him in years?”

Come to think of it, why am I?

“You can’t expect me to get a good look in a club while trying not to get punched by some douchebag,” she says.

Okay, good point.

And that reminds me. “What happened with your boy, the one who vanished?”

“He’s not my boy. Jeez, Gigi, how many times do I have to say it? And… I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

I frown at her, but Jarett reaches our table, and she gets up, all smiles.

“Hi, Jarett.” She sticks out her hand. “I’m Sydney.”

I roll my eyes.

“I know,” he says slowly, but takes her hand. “Jarett. In case you’d forgotten.”

She laughs.

Jarett turns to me. “Does she need saving today? No? Just checking.”

“He’s funny!” Sydney gasps.

He lifts a brow. “Yeah, I don’t always just hit people.”

Was this a mistake? I just wanted my bestie to properly meet my boy. I mean, we’re not officially together, and everything Merc said keeps playing in a loop in my mind, but we spend every night together, and whenever he has time, he calls me.

We talk about our day. He tells me what he intends to do with me during the night.

I can’t focus in class, or when I try to study at home. I keep doodling, drawing his face, seeing his face in front of me.

I’m all his. Does he know that?

Is he mine? Could he ever be?

“No saving needed today,” Sydney says. “And I had no idea Gigi asked you to look out for me, Jarett. Sorry if I bit your head off when you were helping me the other night.”

I glare at her. Jarett never told me this.

But he just sits down beside me and takes my hand. “That’s fine. I’d promised Gigi to take care of you, and I keep my promises.”

I give him a watery smile back. Is this my answer? Once he promises something, he can never break that promise? That means he won’t leave the gang, ever.

Her brows climb up. “Okay. Well, let me get you guys something to drink. As a way of saying thank you.”

He nods. “Black coffee, no sugar.”

“Sure thing. And a latte for my bestie. Coming right up.”

My heart is heavy. How many times does he have to say it for me to finally grasp that he won’t fight to be with me?

But with his warm hand wrapped securely around mine, his eyes on me, I push away the worry once more.

He’s here now, and as long as he’s here, there’s hope.

* * *

Jarett’s humming a melody while fixing a broken kitchen cabinet, and I’m staring, trying not to drool, as he wields the tools, his brow creased in concentration.

He’s pretty good with his hands. And the heat spreading over my face at the thought of just how good his hands can be doesn’t surprise me anymore. Flushed and breathless seems to be my natural state around Jarett.

He’s singing now, his voice a nice bass.

My ears perk. “What are you singing? Didn’t know you could sing that well.”

“I can’t.” He grins sideways at me, and my thoughts falter. He’s hot when he’s brooding, but when he smiles he dazzles me.

“Sounds good to me.”

He hammers a nail into the cupboard, his grin twisting. “Don’t stroke my ego. It doesn’t need it. I’m arrogant enough as it is.”

But I’m not so sure about that. I touch my hands, where they touched his. My neck where he kissed me. My lips, still burning from his kisses. He likes to tease, but he’s not arrogant. He can be rough when he wants me, but also gentle.

This boy. He once accused me of thinking too low of him, but he does an even better job of it himself.

“If you think you’re so bad, tell me, would you change anything about yourself?”

He stills, then glances at me. “Is this a trick question? The list is fucking endless.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He grabs another nail and lifts the hammer. “Even if you could erase my past, sweets… erase my record about shoplifting and the destruction of property, and my time spent in juvie… You know what I’m caught up in now.”

I hang my head, sadness welling inside me. “I’m no saint, either, you know. I also went through a shoplifting phase, back when I was a teen. Drove Mom up the wall.”

His eyes widen as he turns them on me.

Then he shakes his head. “You’re nothing like me, girl. I’m a selfish bastard. I pissed on every couple who thought about adopting me cuz I didn’t want them. I thought they couldn’t replace…” He sighs. “Never mind. What I thought doesn’t matter. I was a stupid little shit. I should have told my foster dad how grateful I was to him for seeing past that and taking me in. I should have…” He puts the hammer down on the counter. His eyes fall shut. “Should have told Mrs. Lowe what she means to me.”

Oh God. I step closer, put my hand over his. “I’m sure they all knew. You’re a great guy. Much more than you give yourself credit for. And for the record, I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

He blinks at me. “You wouldn’t?”

“I know you, Jarett. And I like you.”

More than you’ll ever know.

His mouth curves into a faint hint of a smile. “You’re crazy to like me. But I’m not gonna complain.” He turns and wraps his arms around me, crushing me to him.

Then he dips his head and kisses me.

So softly.

The world halts.

Every memory of a previous kiss is wiped clean the moment his mouth covers mine.

I’ll never want another man the way I want Jarett. I’ll never love another the same way, and that’s the truth of it.

The truth of me.