“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Samson asked, frowning over his beer.

I shrugged. “Is anything I do ever a good idea?”

“Fair point.” He shot a pointed look at my whiskey. “If you keep shooting those back you’re going to be on your ass before the rest of the crew gets here.”

I smiled and took a healthy sip of the whiskey while he rolled his eyes and shook his head, muttering something about not holding my hair back tonight. We had arrived earlier than everyone else, but Rowan promised he’d come, as did Wilmer and Corrigan. Melanie said she’d try, but she was introducing her fiancé to her parents today, so it wasn’t likely. I was okay being the only girl in the group because I’d done it so many times, but a familiar female face would have made it better. Plus, I was dying to see her engagement ring.

“How was your meeting with your parents the other night?”

He eyed me warily. “I thought Rowan might have told you since you’ve been hanging out again.”

“He didn’t.” I frowned. “You guys are talking again?”

“Not really. I mean, not actively, but we’re doing better. It’s only when your name is brought up that he acts like he wants to kill me.”

His scowl made me laugh. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to kill you.”

“If you can even think that, you don’t know my brother as well as you think you do.”

“Whatever.” I shook my head and took a sip from the almost empty glass of whiskey. “I was kind of having a moment the night of your family meeting, so when we did see each other we didn’t talk about him much.” Or at all, come to think of it. We were too busy doing other things. I glanced away to hide my blush.

“Because of the exhibition? How’d it go?”

“It went well.” I smiled, thinking about it. My smile dropped as I thought about my breakdown. “I feel like things are changing so much, so fast.”

I glanced away and caught sight of Rowan walking toward us with Corrigan in tow. My heart picked up the pace at the sight of him. He was wearing a dark T-shirt, which stretched snuggly over his broad chest and shoulders and jeans. I wanted to slide out of the booth and jump on him right there. I looked away quickly, back at Sam, in an effort to control my overactive libido.

“You’ve never liked change,” he said. “You’re afraid of it.”

I frowned as I let his words settle in. “I’m not afraid of change.”

“You are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You aren’t what?” Rowan asked, sliding into the booth beside me. Corrigan leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. Rowan turned to me and pressed his lips to my cheek, the side of my throat, my temple, just like that—bam, bam, bam, the same way my heart beat with his nearness.

“Afraid of change,” Sam said, shooting us a surprised look. I’d told him Rowan and I had hung out, but I hadn’t mentioned what that meant, mostly because I was still trying to figure it out myself and trying to contain my freak outs to a minimum meant not talking about Rowan and me. I just wanted to, for once in my life, BE and not have things mean more than that. But telling people that meant putting a label on things, and I didn’t want that either.

“Nothing,” I said at the same time, glaring at Sam.

Cor chuckled. Rowan fought back a grin. I gave them both a look of disbelief. “You agree with him.”

“Remember the time they changed our meet location an hour before we were scheduled to be there and you kept banging the steering wheel saying you hated sudden changes?” Cor asked.

“So, because I don’t like last-minute surprises I automatically hate change?”

Rowan pulled me close and dropped a kiss on my head. I shrugged him away to look at him, waiting. His lips twisted with amusement, his eyes twinkling. “I’ll agree with you if you want me to, but you don’t do well with change, babe.”

“Don’t call me ‘babe.’ I’m not a pig.” I crossed my arms, pursing my lips.

In the past I didn’t mind it whenever he’d called me babe. I just didn’t want him to call me anything while my blood was sizzling with annoyance. Maybe I didn’t like change, but that didn’t mean I was afraid of it. Disliking something and being afraid of something were two entirely different things. I said this to them, and the three of them looked like the last thing they wanted to do was argue, but Rowan, of course, couldn’t help himself.

“People are afraid of things they don’t understand,” he said in a calm voice.

I took a healthy gulp of my whiskey. The waiter came by and took Rowan and Corrigan’s orders. I let that sink in for a moment. I wanted to argue the point but decided against it. I was all about picking my battles, and it was clear the odds were stacked against me in this case. Rowan ordered me another drink when his came. Sam shot us a warning look.

“How many more can you handle, Tess?”

I flashed him my middle finger. “A lot.”

“More than you,” Rowan said, putting an arm around my shoulder again. I leaned into him.

“I never said otherwise.” Sam’s gaze flicked between Rowan and me. “Did you tell Tessa about our family meeting?”

Rowan, who was taking a sip of his drink, started to choke-cough. Somehow, in the midst of the choke-cough, he managed to shoot Sam a look that promised bad things if he continued speaking, which only made me even more curious, though I wouldn’t push it right now. Corrigan and I shared a look, and being the great friend Cor was, he stepped in and took the heat off Rowan, who clearly didn’t want to talk about their family meeting.

“So, how long are you here for?” he asked me.

“’Till next weekend. You?”

“Same. I got offered an accounting job in Cali. Figured I’d go soak up some rays before I start in a few weeks.”

“That’s . . . awesome.” If I sounded like I was proud of him, it was because I was. Cor hadn’t graduated at the top of our class, but because of his rowing skills, he’d landed an athletic scholarship at Columbia alongside Rowan. What he did while he was there was obviously more impressive than the scholarship itself. I smiled because he really had worked his ass off for this opportunity. “I’m proud of you, Cor. You freaking made it.”

“I freaking made it.” He grinned, bringing his beer to his lips. “Why aren’t you tied down yet? It seems like half our senior class is already engaged. You were always the most sought-after girl in school. I thought you’d be the first to get a proposal.”

The sip of whiskey I was taking sputtered from my lips. “I think you’re confusing me with someone else.”

“I’m not.” His pale blue eyes twinkled.

“None of you ever showed interest in me,” I argued. “I didn’t even have a prom date. Rowan had to step up and take me.”

At that, both Sam and Corrigan started to howl in laughter. “Poor Rowan, taking one for the team.”

I nodded, wide eyed. They both shook their heads, giving me a sympathetic look.

“Why do you think no guys asked you out?” Corrigan asked and then revised, “Aside from the theatre and band geeks.”

“I . . .” My brows pulled in. Were they all theatre and band geeks? No. I shook my head. “I had a fling with Billy. He was on the baseball team.”

Rowan grunted beside me. Corrigan’s eyes danced. I felt so lost.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Billy,” Corrigan mused. “Why did he break up with you again?”

“Leave it, Cor,” Rowan warned. I glanced over at him and took in his red ears and the way his eyes seemed to shoot daggers. I thought about Billy and why he’d broken things off. I couldn’t even remember. Something about focusing on his future and not wanting extra things to stand in the way of the scholarship he was getting. He’d said something about my friends, too, but the memory was muddy at best. I blinked, looking at Rowan and his angry features.

“You warned him away from me.”

His gaze slid over to mine. My heart tripped over itself for a beat. I knew girls who’d be flattered by a really hot guy making it difficult for them to date. Some alpha-male move that seemed to drive women crazy, but I wasn’t that girl, and Rowan . . . I shook my head. Rowan had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t know how to love and wasn’t interested in exploring that option, not then, maybe not ever. So why keep me from experiencing it for myself?

“You don’t feel even the least bit sorry about that?” I asked, my voice small when it should have been steaming with anger. Anger made me defiant, and I was being far too complacent about this new information.

Rowan simply shrugged. “I’m not much into apologies.”

I blinked and blinked again. Took another gulp of my whiskey. I should be upset. Like, really upset. Why wasn’t I upset? All those guys in my class never asked me out because . . . and all the while, he was in the middle of on-and-off flings with other girls, Camryn included. My chest started itching as I thought about it. The only answer I could come up with was what I knew to be true in every situation. Rowan was a control freak. Still. That didn’t give him the right to control my life. The conversation shifted. Sam and Corrigan were talking about bitcoins and the future of money when Rowan nuzzled his face into my neck.

“Tell me you aren’t mad at me.”

I pushed him off. “When did you decide you needed to play bodyguard?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “After I kissed you that night at your grandmother’s birthday party.”

“You’re joking.”

“I know. I’m an asshole.” When he opened his eyes, he didn’t look the least bit sorry.

I never wondered if I was pretty enough or funny enough or anything enough because when I was out with Celia, plenty of guys would hit on me. And I wouldn’t trade going to prom with Rowan for the world. We’d had an incredible time dancing and laughing and . . . I thought about my after-prom plans that never came to fruition. Or how I’d actually ended up on top of him in the small confines of his Mustang, only to have him push me away just before things got too hot and heavy. Every other person in our class was planning to hook up that night, and Rowan was, for the first time in his entire life, being the perfect gentleman. I’d heard enough rumors to know he wasn’t a gentleman with other girls. Why had he orchestrated the whole don’t ask Tessa out thing only to turn me down? He hadn’t turn me down that summer, though. That summer, he’d been mine, but only after he decided it. After the countless times he’d tried to fight whatever this was between us and finally claimed me like some Neanderthal claimed his mate, like we were animals with no brains and no free will? So what, no one else could have me because he hadn’t deemed it the right time for him to have me? Fuck him.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Rowan scooted out of the booth, and I slid out behind him. The music had started already. It was college night, and there were a ton of kids here, little brothers and sisters of our classmates, no doubt. Kids who would leave next week and report to their schools and start their futures. Tonight, they were all dancing sloppily, obviously drunk or high off whatever they had at their pre-game because this bar wouldn’t serve minors.

I was sidestepping a couple of girls when I felt a hand on my forearm. I yanked it, not even bothering looking back. Guys were such tools sometimes. I fled into the bathroom and worked on regaining my composure. The past was the past, but with Rowan, it never quite seemed to stay there. Even when I was in college, during the years we didn’t speak, I was constantly thinking about him. I lost my virginity to some guy I met at a party, and all throughout, I thought of Rowan. He’d been Christmas mornings and warm summers and a part of him always stayed with me through our years of silence. Stayed with me still. There was a reason I kept a tight lid on those memories and all thoughts of him. It was completely ridiculous for me to even be entertaining this. I had no idea why I had opened myself up to him again even though I knew we’d only break apart again. There were a lot of whys I knew I’d never get answers to because he was him, and he didn’t apologize or offer explanations for his actions. He just did.

On that note, I opened the bathroom door again and froze. Rowan was leaning against the wall.

“You’re mad at me.”

“Nothing to be mad about, right?” I shrugged and walked away from him and onto the dance floor.

He caught my arm. I couldn’t tell you what song was playing. All I knew was that our hips started swaying. I gripped his strong biceps as he held on to my waist. We moved, our eyes on each other’s, mine angry, his filled with a remorse he’d never speak of.

“You are such an asshole,” I slurred, finally. That was how drunk I was. I even knew I was slurring.

“Because I wanted you all to myself?”

“Yes.” I reared back, my brows pinching together. “It’s like the ultimate double-standard.”

My tongue felt heavy, and my words were stumbling all over each other, but I didn’t really care. I dropped my hands and stopped moving, no longer feeling the music or the situation. I grabbed his forearms and tried to push his hands off me, but he didn’t budge.

“Just let go.”

“You’ll fall.”

My eyes narrowed. “I will never fall.”

“Has it occurred to you, Tessa,” he said, coming closer, bringing his lips to the shell of my ear, “that you’ve never actually stood on your own two feet?”

I inhaled sharply and pushed him away once more. This time, he let go. I went outside and walked down the sidewalk, in absolutely no shape to drive. Luckily, I lived close enough that walking didn’t bother me. I didn’t have to look back to know he was there. I could feel his presence even then.

I hated it.

Hated the way we seemed to be attached by some invisible string. Hated that he knew my next move before I knew my own. Hated that he couldn’t fucking admit his feelings or the deeper meaning of why he did the things he did. Most of all, I hated that I wanted him to, needed him to, yearned for him to.

By the time I got to my front door, I was breathing heavily, whether from of my escalating anger or the power walk I just took, I didn’t know. I took out my keys and unlocked the door, and just before I shut it behind me, his hand came up to stop it.

“I didn’t invite you in.”

“I’m not a fucking vampire, Tessa. I can come inside if I want to.”

“This isn’t your house.”

“Soon, it won’t be yours either.”

“Right.” I turned around. “Because you’ve taken that from me too.”

“Oh my god.” He looked up at the ceiling with a noisy exhale. “I thought we were past this.”

“Says the guy who hasn’t had to give anything up. Ever.” I crossed my arms. His eyes narrowed.

“You know that isn’t true.”

“Do I?” I shrugged. “You’re taking over the company soon. Isn’t that what you’ve always dreamed of?”

“You know that isn’t true,” he said again, his tone hard, his eyes searching mine.

Anger continued to burn in my chest like an undying flame. I couldn’t seem to put it out or stop myself from pushing him. This morning, I’d woken with a sense of excitement I no longer felt. I was just confused and . . . over it.

“Why didn’t you have sex with me on prom night?”

He blinked. “What?”

“I believe you heard me.”

He chuckled, an unamused, hard sound that matched the look in his eyes. “Is that what this is about? Sex? You’re mad because I talked some loser guys away from you because I was looking out for you and because I stopped you from making a mistake?”

“Oh, you’re such a fucking saint,” I spat. “Spare me the bullshit. You don’t have the right to decide when I make mistakes.”

“Jesus Christ.” He threw his hands up. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now.”

“Just tell me why. I deserve to know why,” I said loudly, and to my absolute dismay, I felt tears swimming in my eyes. I swallowed, brought my voice down twelve notches and whispered, “It isn’t like I was going to remain a virgin, you know? I had sex in college with some no one. It was a completely unmemorable experience. But I guess that was what you wanted, right? For everybody after you to be unmemorable?”

“Oh, Tessa.” He said my name softly, in a near whisper, as he walked over to me. I wiped my tears away before he got a chance to, but he cupped my face anyway and rubbed his thumbs over my cheeks.

“I’m so mad at you,” I whispered.

“I know.” He leaned down and kissed my pout, my cheek, my eyelids before pulling back and looking at me. “I’m a selfish bastard, and I’m sorry.”

Heart pounding, I reached up and touched his face, brushing his hair back and threading my fingers through it. “You are a selfish bastard.”

His large hand felt hot on my back as he pulled me closer. He put his forehead against mine, closed his eyes, and breathed out. I did the same. Our own little hongi. We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, my anger slowly dissipating with each exhale. He pulled away slowly, his hands still on my face as he looked at me.

“You’re still coming on the trip, right?”

I nodded. “I told you I would.”

He smiled, dropped a chaste kiss on my lips, and headed for the door. “I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

“You aren’t going to stay?”

He shook his head, hand on the door. “If I stay, if . . . if we’re going to do this hooking up thing until you leave and then call it a day, maybe we should discuss it. When you’re sober.”

“I’m sober.”

He cocked his head and shot me a look.

“I’m mostly sober.”

“Mostly isn’t good enough. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. He chuckled as he walked down the driveway.