“So I went on another date with James last night. I really like this one, Kat. Like, so much.”

I smile at my assistant as she folds the clean white towels and stacks them in the linen closet at salon Petaloúda. Except for the blue eyes and the valley girl accent, she reminds me so much of myself. Another young girl trying to find her place in this world, holding on to the tiniest piece of affection she’s given. “But?”

A rose flush creeps across her cheeks, an exact match to her hair. “What makes you think there’s a ‘but’?” she asks with a shy smile.

“I’ve known you for two years, Lainie Andrews. There’s always a ‘but.’ Out with it.”

She sighs. “He doesn’t know if he wants kids.”

“Well, is that a deal breaker for you?”

Lainie shoves in the last towel and rests her ass against the radiator. “Like, I don’t know, ya know? I’m only twenty-four, so I’m still young, but like, that biological clock is ticking away. Do I wanna invest all this time into a guy, then decide down the line that it is a deal breaker?”

“Okay. Let’s not talk bio clocks when you’re four years younger than me, okay?” I laugh. I love Lainie. She’s a great assistant and a constant source of amusement for me.

“Well, that’s my point. I don’t wanna be standing here having this conversation at twenty-eight. I want to know where my life is headed by then. You and Chase were obviously on the same page with that, or you wouldn’t be marrying him, right?”

Her words hit me harder than intended. I know Chase wants to be a dad someday. We never actually had the talk, but whenever he’s around kids, he gets this faraway look in his eyes like he’s picturing our family. I hate to say it, but sometimes, I feel like I’m dead inside. I don’t get that maternal pull I’m supposed to have whenever I see a baby. I don’t ooh and ahh at all the cute little booties and hats. It’s just not who I am. I’m too fucked up to be responsible for another living thing. I also don’t want to pass on these shitty genetics. It wouldn’t be fair.

I just keep thinking something’s going to change. Like I’m going to wake up one day and need a baby more than anything, and Chase and I will finally start that family he’s been dreaming about ever since he popped this ring on my finger. There’s a real possibility that it may never happen, though.

“Oh, wow, that’s a face.” Lainie snorts, circling her pointer finger around my downturned pout. “What’s going on? Please don’t tell me you guys are having trouble. You guys are, like, the couple on which I base all my unrealistic relationship goals!”

I fall back into one of the swiveling nail station chairs and swivel side to side with my heel. “No, we’re not having trouble.” More like Chase is having trouble; I’m just the one having to witness it from the outside while he stews in silence. He’s been awful to live with these past couple of months. Moody, cynical, unbearable. The accident was minor, but it took him down such a bad road. “Things have just gotten a little . . . monotonous, I guess.”

She sucks in a sharp breath, her lips forming into a little O. “Ooooh. You guys haven’t been . . . uh . . .” Using her right hand, she fingers the hole formed by her left thumb and forefinger.

A peal of laughter erupts from my chest. She and I are two peas in a pod. Lewd, crude, and tattooed. “No, we are, but I can tell he’s somewhere else. He’s just going through the motions. The other day, he didn’t even come. Said he was tired. What the fuck is that?”

“Did you?”

“Meh.” I shrug.

Lainie turns back toward the closet with a grimace and closes it with a click. “I just wish I knew how to break thr—”

“Oh. Speak of the devil!” Lainie cranes her neck to peer behind me as the bell over the door rings through the empty salon.

I turn to follow her gaze in time to see Chase swagger through the door. “Look at you walkin’ on two legs!” The grin on his face is infectious. It’s been so long since I’ve seen it that I’m relieved to see him looking like himself again. “How long you gotta wear the boot for?” I ask with a quick kiss on his lips.

“Four weeks. And after that, I'm taking you dancing.” When he winks, so does the metal ring in his brow.

He pulls me off the chair and settles his hands on my hips. “You're in a good mood.”

“Yeah. I guess I am.” He leans in, brushing his lips against my neck. “And now I wanna take you home and make you in a good mood, too.”

Warmth spreads across my middle and trickles down south. I have no idea what brought on this sudden change, but I’ll take it. If it means I have him back. “Ooh, keep threatening.”

“You guys are totally too cute,” Lainie chimes in.

“Let me just finish up here, and I’ll see you at home.”

“Go ahead, Kat. I can lock up.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I got it.” She leans in close to my ear, cupping her hand around her lips. “Go drain that man like a dirty pool.”

“Will do!”

Leaving the salon in Lainie’s capable hands, Chase and I wander out into the warm California night. “I miss the stars,” he states, looking up at the sky. “I never paid much attention until I couldn’t see them anymore. I assumed they’d always be there, I guess.”

“You’re not making any sense, babe.”

When Chase lowers his gaze down to mine, the heat inside his light blue stare almost burns me to a pile of soot on the sidewalk. “You’ve been so patient with me, Kat, and I don’t want to make another mistake. I don’t want to take you for granted then realize too late what I’ve lost.”

“Are you saying I’m like the stars?”

“No. You’re so much more than that. Stars are pretty and nice to look at, but they’re nothing special. You’re the center of my universe. The sun my world revolves around. I’m nothing without you.”

Tears well in my eyes as he drops his forehead to mine. “You’re never gonna lose me. No matter what happens, I’ll always be yours.”

“Promise?”

“Until death do us part, right?” I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his chin. “Let’s go home, Chase.”

* * *

As usual, the pups greet us at the door, kicking up a furry frenzy. I shove them aside, flipping through the mail as Chase follows in after me. “Okay, okay, chill out!” Chase shouts, yanking the leash off the hook. “I’m gonna take them to the park for a bit.”

“Wait a sec,” I mumble, staring down at the envelope in my hand, but it’s not the Tanner Chase Jr. address that stops me in my tracks. It’s the stamp in the corner—The Law Offices of Berghammer and Stein, New York, NY—that makes my heart pick up speed. Letters from giant law firms are never a good thing. Especially ones that have a partner currently fucking my future mother-in-law.

I look up at Chase, hovering in the doorway. “You got a letter.” He reaches out and plucks it from my fingers. The leash clatters to the floor as he trudges down the hall, his medical boot scraping the hardwood.

“Come on, guys. I’ll take you out. Let’s give Daddy a minute.” When I yank open the back door, the dogs barrel through it, and I light up a cigarette. Chase hasn’t heard a word from his family in years. Not since his dad turned his back on him for having a drug problem. Such a piece of shit. Who hands a heroin addict ten grand? That’s like saying Here, go kill yourself, and make it snappy! He easily could have put that money toward a rehab program, but instead, he wrote him a check and sent him on his way. It breaks my heart to even think about it.

The dogs finish their business and trot back in as I chuck the last of my smoke into the yard. Whatever, I’ll pick it up later. The sound of rushing water echoes through the thin walls of our home. An uneasiness sits like a stone in my stomach as I follow the sound to the master bedroom. Something’s not right. I feel it whirling in the air, but I can’t be sure.

A piece of fancy letterhead lies balled in the corner of our room. I swipe it from the floor and smooth out the wrinkles enough to read the small print.

Dear Mr. Chase,

We regret to inform you that your father, Tanner Chase Sr., has passed on. He’s listed you as the executor of his last will and testament, and as such, we request a meeting with you to discuss his final wishes . . .

“Fuck,” I whisper aloud. My gaze travels through the open doorway of the bathroom as my feet move me, the letter slipping from my fingers. “Babe?”

Through the curtain, I see his shadow. Contorted from the strangled rays of light emanating from the vanity bulbs. Holding his lean body against the wall, his arms appear long and skinny. I quietly undress and step inside. Water sluices down his spine, his muscles taut under stretched skin. He doesn’t say a word, and he doesn’t have to. I know too well the complicated feelings that come from mourning a bastard.

I take a step, reaching out for him to give him the only comfort I can. My hands slide across his back and around to his stomach. “I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper, pressing my cheek against his shoulder blade. His silence floats around us thick and heavy, much like the steam curling around our naked bodies.

Without warning, he breaks my embrace and whips around. Light eyes burn a deep blazing blue swimming in a sea of pink, but his face remains hard and stoic. The ferocity of his mouth attacking mine knocks me backward. He holds me steady, his fingers biting my hips as he pushes my back against the cold tile. A feral growl rumbles in his chest. He nips my lips, teasing me with a series of licks before slipping his tongue inside to waltz with mine.

The violent beat of his heart smashes at his ribs. It bangs against my palm as I rest it flat on his chest and push, but his mouth is unrelenting. The built-up anger from years of neglect pours off his tongue and slides down my throat. All the feelings he buries deep down inside bubble up behind it, volatile and ready to explode. When he hooks my legs around his waist, there’s nothing left I can do except brace myself for impact.

But there isn’t one.

“Chase? What’s going on?”

He grunts and sets me back on my feet, then moves my hand to his only semi-aroused cock. “Jerk it a little.”

I wrap my fingers around it, then pump my fist, fruitlessly attempting to build up friction between my palm and his shaft. Chase jams his eyes closed, a look of grim determination etching his face. I’ve heard of this happening to guys before, but I never thought it would happen to Chase. The guy rocks a chubby if the wind blows through his shorts. He’s definitely DTF every second of every day.

. . . except lately.

“It's okay to be upset about your father, baby. I understand.”

He groans, pushing my hand away. “You know what, Kat? Just forget it.”

“What?” My blood, just a few minutes ago fueled by desire, is now beginning to boil with anger. “I didn’t come in here to fuck you, Chase. I came in here to support you, you big, stupid jerk! But you don’t want me? Fine. Go fuck yourself, then!”

The metal rings shriek as I tear back the curtain and step from the tub, only stopping for the second it takes me to grab a towel before slamming the bathroom door behind me. What a colossal asshole! I understand that letter threw his world into a tizzy, but that’s no reason to treat me like shit. I’m not his punching bag.

I’ve barely even started drying off when the bathroom door swings back open again. I turn toward him, drinking in the sight of his beautiful, naked body. Droplets roll down his heaving chest, leaving tiny piles of water on the floor by his feet. His gorgeous face twists in a scowl, his nostrils flaring with each angry breath. “What did you say to me?”

“I told you to go fuck yourself. If you can stay hard long enough to do it.” I try to be brusque, but my voice comes out far weaker than I intend. How the hell does he do this to me? How is it that he simultaneously makes me want to kiss him and punch him in the throat?

He bites out a humorless chuckle, chewing the ring in the corner of his mouth. His gaze drops and mine follows, directly to the rock-hard rod standing straight at attention between his sinewy thighs. Our eyes meet, his dark and devilish, peering through my very soul.

“Come here,” he demands with the crook of his finger.

“No.” Heat pools between my legs. His sweet side makes me weak, but his dominant side makes me wet. I squeeze my thighs, trying to stifle the pounding arousal, but the action only ends up stoking my need for him.

I glide my hands over my stomach, my fingers reaching the slickness below. He growls, his lips curling as I slip into my wet heat. “You want this?” Removing my middle finger, I hold it up before sliding it into my mouth, sucking off my own sweet juice with sunken cheeks. “Come get it.”

I turn and head for the door, but even with his bad leg, I can’t outrun him. His long strides put him in front of me in an instant. He grabs me, tatted fingers curling around my hips as he drags me to the bed. I fall face first; my bare breasts squashed against the mattress.

With one hand resting flat on my back, the other comes down on my ass cheek. My clit thrums with need. He kicks my legs apart, draping his hard body over mine. Wordlessly, he growls in my ear. It sends an immediate reaction blazing through my core. “Chase, please . . .”

“No! I don’t want to hear you speak again,” he warns, and I’m suddenly well aware of the fact he’s not playing. This isn’t a game. I wounded his pride, and now I’m meant to take the punishment he doles without mercy.

I struggle to escape his grip, but he holds me down, his lips still hovering close to my ear. Hot breath fans across my cheek as two fingers tease my sodden entrance. I whimper, but the sound gets lost in the bed as he forces them inside me.

Red hot fire bursts behind my eyelids. When his thumb finds my throbbing bud, my orgasm rockets through me, shooting me into space. I’m still quivering with pleasure when he pulls his hand away and impales me with his steel erection.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts. The barbell in his shaft slides along my inner walls as he pulls out slowly then slams back in. Husky moans lodge in my chest. I claw the sheets, twisting them in my fingers in a white-knuckle grasp. “That cock hard enough for you now?”

Before I have a chance to answer, his hand comes down on my ass again. A tremble quivers deep inside my core. My pussy pulses around his shaft as he pistons into me with violent, angry thrusts. I feel my body tighten. That roiling ball of pleasure swirls in my gut, threatening to tear me in two. Chase feels it, too. He tangles his fingers in my hair and pulls my chest off the bed. From this angle, he hits the mark. That perfect spot that turns my knees to jelly as another release splinters through me.

His mouth covers mine, absorbing my strangled cry, the bitter taste of anger and regret leaking off his tongue. It's not the first time my body took the brunt of his emotion, and surely, it won't be the last, but the angst he unleashes this time is like nothing I've ever felt before. The brutal way his hips smack my ass is savage. A hard, bestial pounding that renders me senseless until I’m lost in the pleasure only he knows how to give.

He drops me back to the bed and flips me to my back. “I can’t take anymore,” I whine as he crawls over me and thrusts back inside without hesitation, but my body gratefully accepts him, sucking him in deeper.

“Look at me, Kat.” But I can’t. Lost in a mindless sea of pleasure, I can’t stop my back from bowing and my head digging into the pillow behind it.

When he grasps my chin, wrath rages in his turquoise eyes. It crashes through his gaze like a stormy sea, wet and wild, ready to drown us both in despair. “S'agapó. Syngnómi. I’m sorry, baby.” Another bliss-filled wave crests. It drags him under, pulling him into the rising tide of my release. I cup his cheek, feeling his cock thicken and fill me with a hot blast of cum.

Chase collapses, our sweat-slick skin sticking together, blustering breath beating to the same slamming rhythm of our hearts. “I’m sorry,” I whisper again, but he doesn’t respond. His breath only stutters in my ear, his back heaving with remorse. We lie there entwined in each other’s embrace as the full weight of Chase’s sorrow comes crashing down. He lets it go until nothing’s left, and his sobs grow silent.

When he finally gets up, he turns his back to me. I rest my hand on his shoulder, same as he did when my own father passed. A simple token of comfort. A small gesture to let him know I’m still right here. I’ll always be right here. “What am I supposed to do, Kat?” Emotion alters his voice. It comes out deep and hollow, the void so palpable I’m afraid if I move I’ll fall right in.

“I think you need to go to New York and deal with your father’s affairs. It will give you closure, and more importantly, it will help you stay sober.”

Famous last words.