If I was fucking up before by bringing Brooke to the club, I’m fucking up even more by bringing her to my place.

But I can’t do otherwise. I wasn’t about to leave her at the hotel.

I’m too keyed up to sleep after everything that’s happened tonight. Brooke’s out like a light, though. I sit in the dark and think instead. And find myself watching her as she sleeps.

I still remember how fucking angry I was when she left Tanner Springs. And when she literally ran into me at the diner that day, the fury that I thought had disappeared over the years came roaring right back. It was like the wound had been ripped back open, the scar tissue tearing clean through to the flesh underneath.

Now? I don’t know what the fuck I think.

In a way, she’s the last person I should even be giving the time of day. A fucking federal agent, for Christ’s sake. Angel should kick my ass for even talking to her, much less bringing her around the club.

But I know Brooke. I know who she is, deep down. And the shit she’s investigating is legit. Whoever these fuckers are, they deserve to rot in prison. I want her to get them. I want her to succeed.

And I want to make sure she doesn’t get killed doing it.

I snort softly as I look down at her. I know if I said that out loud, she’d be pissed. She’d tell me she can take care of her damn self, thank you very much. Which I’m sure she can. You don’t get into the FBI by bein’ a cream puff.

But old habits die hard. And there was a time when I wanted to protect Brooke from everything bad in the world. I thought I could do it, too. And I thought she wanted me to.

Turned out, I was wrong. She didn’t need me. Not at all. And I guess that was what hurt most of all.

I remember when I heard through the grapevine that Brooke’s mom had died. We didn’t really know each other at that point, but I’d watch her sometimes in the halls when she didn’t think I was looking. I was getting laid pretty regularly at that point, so I wasn’t really paying a lot of attention to the shy-looking girl with the wild blond hair and the nineties grunge style. But I definitely noticed her.

I didn’t know she didn’t have a dad when I heard her mom had passed away unexpectedly. I didn’t really know anything about her situation.

Then one day after school, I came out of the exit by the parking lot and saw her sitting there, by herself. Looking like she was waiting for someone to pick her up but they hadn’t shown.

Before I even knew I was gonna do it, I asked her if she wanted a ride. She gave me a look I couldn’t quite read, and I thought she was going to turn me down. But then — just as I was gonna turn away — she shrugged and said yes. I still remember how she looked as she picked up her backpack and fell into pace beside me.

She didn’t say much for the first couple of minutes. But then I made some joke or other that made her laugh. She threw back her head, and her tumble of blond hair cascaded down her shoulders, highlighted against the red plaid of her flannel shirt. I remember thinking how fucking gorgeous she was. Like I could’ve looked at that face for hours and not gotten sick of it. She liked the song that was playing through the speakers — Wasteland, by Ten Years — so I turned it up, and she started nodding her head to it and humming along.

When I dropped her off, I offered to give her a ride home whenever she wanted. And then the next day, I found myself hanging out by her locker after school, hoping to catch her. When her eyes met mine in the locker, she gave me a little smile.

So began our friendship. And then, little by little, a lot more than that.

I knew she hated being in the foster home they placed her in after her mom’s death. She didn’t give me a lot of specifics, but I knew it wasn’t good. I always suspected there were things going on that maybe she wasn’t telling me. But I never wanted to push Brooke further than she wanted to go. She had this tough streak to her, but underneath she was soft. I wanted to get to that soft place. And I was willing to wait.

I remember the first time I kissed her. Brooke fucking trembled. Shit, the girls I was used to, some of ‘em would pretend to be virgins, but it was all just an act so they could play hard to get for a little bit. Brooke was different. That first kiss, I knew she wanted it, but I also knew I had to go slow. I knew from bein’ in locker rooms and from what other girls said that I was bigger than average — much bigger — and I didn’t want to scare Brooke. I wanted her to be ready for me, and for what I was sure would be her first time.

There was something about waiting that was actually kind of a turn-on. Oh, it was torture, don’t get me wrong. I spent more time jacking off than you could imagine, just to keep the blue balls away. But I was makin’ progress with her. When I’d take her out to a movie or just to go hang out, more often than not we’d end up dry humping in the back of my dad’s truck or on a secluded picnic table in a city park. I got to know the way her breathing would speed up when I did something she liked. But I also learned that little hitch in her throat when shit was getting too intense and I needed to back off.

Then one day, she stopped talking to me.

We didn’t have a fight. There wasn’t anything that happened. She just totally fuckin’ withdrew. I went to her locker after school, and she wasn’t there. I looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. I drove to her house, but her foster parents said she wasn’t at home.

For the next two days, she managed to completely avoid me at school, even though I knew her schedule like the back of my goddamn hand. Then, on the third day, I caught her coming out of a math class. I confronted her, but she looked through me like I was a total stranger. All the light that used to be in her eyes when she looked at me was gone. Her mouth was pursed, her jaw set. She totally froze me out.

At first, my ego was so fuckin’ bruised I pretended I didn’t care. I acted like she’d never mattered to me, even though nothing could have been further from the truth. I made sure she saw me hanging out in the halls, laughing with my friends. Girls always flirted with me, and I played it up, hoping she’d see it and get jealous.

Then, three weeks later, it was her eighteenth birthday. It was a school day, but she didn’t show up. I looked for her all day, breaking my promise to myself to pretend like she didn’t exist.

Finally that night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I drove to her house, hoping to catch her by surprise. I thought maybe I could convince her to let me take her out to celebrate or something.

Her foster dad Mr. Bonner answered the door, looking pissed. He said she’d run away that morning, before they’d woken up. Left a note saying she wouldn’t be back.

She skipped town. Without a trace.

I figured I’d never see her again.

I look down at Brooke now, watching her slow, even breaths. Her eyelids flutter like she’s dreaming.

It feels good that she’s let her guard down with me as much as she has. The way she loses herself in the moment when I’m fucking her — it’s hotter than hell. She seems to need that, the loss of control.

My cock stirs under the sheets. I think about waking her up, but she needs her sleep.

Goddamnit.

I’m falling for a girl who already left me once.

What’s that thing they say about the definition of insanity? Doin’ the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result?

I must be about as insane as they come.

The next morning I let her sleep late. She wanders out of my bedroom around ten, wearing nothing but one of my T-shirts and lookin’ so sexy it makes me want to stop what I’m doing and pull her back into bed.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she complains groggily.

“You needed it. How’s your head?”

“Not bad. How’s it look?” She turns her face to show me. There’s a purplish-green bruise blooming right where her cheekbone is, but the swelling’s gone down.

“It’s better today.” I nod toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee if you want it.”

She shakes her head. “You have any bread for toast?”

“Yup. Help yourself. Hey, Jewel called. Natalia’s already at her place. She got out of the hospital this morning. Isabel knew she was being discharged, so she called Jewel to come pick her up.”

“Holy crap.” Brooke shoots me a worried look. “I hope Jewel wasn’t followed. After last night, I’m worried for Natalia’s safety.”

I see her point. “You think they need protection?”

“Maybe.” She bites her lip. “Could we go over there? Like, now? I’d feel better seeing where Jewel lives for myself.”

“Sure, we can do that.”

“I’m going to take a quick shower.” Brooke does an about face and heads for my bathroom. As she goes, she pulls my shirt up over her head, revealing that she’s naked beneath it.

“You’re killing me here,” I call after her.

“Nothing saying you can’t join me,” she calls back, a smile in her voice.

Well, fuck.

That shower is barely big enough for me.

But goddamn if we won’t make it work.