“I’m here to sign for Jake Napleton.”

I mustered a polite smile at the desk sergeant, a big black man with a stern expression. I leaned my forearms on the counter. The small and rundown police station was blessedly quiet. It was nearly midnight, and I still had a slight buzz going, which helped make the whole situation less shocking. I’d taken a shower to sober up and had downed strong coffee, both of which helped a little.

The officer scrunched his eyebrows together. “Jake’ll be released in a few minutes. Sign here.” He pressed the intercom and said a few words to someone, then turned back to me. “You can take a seat if you want,” he added. Then he was back on the phone.

A week ago, I’d never even imagined meeting someone with the celebrity status of Jake. And now I was signing him out of jail.

He’d gone too far in the bar with Grant; that was undeniable. After how hard Jake had hit him, according to the paramedics at the scene, Grant would likely have to have his jaw wired shut for a few days while he ate a liquid-only diet.

Even though Jake had thrown the first punch, he’d gotten me and Amy out of harm’s way. Then he’d gone back in to get his friends.

The media maelstrom had already begun. Amy had gone home to deal with Steve and come up with a strategy to help me salvage this setback. I’d done the same and called Jake’s agent, who then had to call Jake’s lawyers to deal with the bail, court appearance, and getting him released. God only knew when TMZ would get hold of any video of the bar fight not already posted, or Jake’s booking photo. So far, there hadn’t been many hits on the three YouTube videos that had been posted by people at the bar an hour ago, but Twitter was lighting up like a Christmas tree. So was my phone.

I took a seat, hugging my purse to me while I waited with a handful of people in the waiting room. Just before Jake had called me to meet him here, his lawyer had called me, informing me that everything had been taken care of. That seemed fast, but Jake probably had top-notch lawyers. I didn’t care. When he called, I came. I wanted to be the one here, the first person he saw when he walked out of jail.

Despite the many emotions running through me, there was still one that stood out against the others.

I felt…at peace.

I stared down at my wrist. It still ached a little, but it wasn’t red anymore, and I didn’t think it would bruise; I could still feel how hard Grant’s grip had been, nearly crushing. Grant always had been physical, and once again, the way Jake had protected me was something I’d always remember. What’s more, the hate I used to feel for Grant wasn’t there anymore. I hadn’t realized I still harbored a lot of ugly feelings toward him until I saw him again. I’d told myself I was over him, that I’d forgiven him for the things he’d done and had moved on, but I’d been lying to myself. Since meeting Jake, he’d proven to me twice that he was a guy who stood up for what was right. As much as I hated the fact that he had to resort to violence, the way he’d defended me had accessed some internal switch deep inside me. There was no denying that when he’d punched Grant, it had been both satisfying and kind of hot.

A door buzzed.

“Jake, hey.”

I stood up and walked toward him. He was very somber. His mop of brown hair fell messily on his head. He looked a little surprised that I went in for the hug. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head.

“Hey. Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice rough and tired.

“I was surprised you called me. You didn’t have anyone else?”

“My sister works for the DEA. She’d kill me if she knew I got into another fight,” he said dryly. He stared at his pitching hand and stretched it out with a wince. The knuckles were split and bruised, but he seemed to have full mobility. “Plus she lives in San Diego, so that’s kind of a long way to come to bail out your bar-fighting brother. And I know how much Mr. Yerac loves midnight wakeup calls from me when I’m in jail, so I thought I’d take a risk on you.”

I shook my head and then stared. “She works for the DEA? That’s badass. I barely knew you had a sister…”

He froze, as though he hadn’t meant to reveal that piece of info. He shrugged. “Yeah…a lot of undercover work, I think. She never talks about it.”

“And you never talk about her,” I commented, though it explained why I hadn’t been able to find a lot about her. “You close?”

“Kind of…we grew apart in our teens.” Another shrug when I kept staring at him. “Eva’s a year older. Both our parents were out of the picture early on. She eventually got adopted, but I never did. She moved to the West Coast for college and never left.” He smiled, briefly, somewhat bitterly. “Me? Problem kid, always getting into fights, a temper that never cooled, and well, no one wanted to deal with me. Her adoptive parents didn’t like me much. Still don’t. We still talk when we can, though. And when I’m playing in San Diego, I always stop by or grab a bite with her.”

I had nothing to say, because what I wanted to say would probably irk him. I didn’t feel sorry for him, not in that way, but I felt for him, the kid that he’d been, getting rejected like that, and how that had obviously affected him as an adult.

Jake went to the counter for some reason, and he and the desk sergeant had a quick chat, a laugh, and universal bro-handshake.

I led him outside, full of questions. “You know him?”

“Hank?” Jake gave me a small smile. “Yeah. Truancy officer at my high school. Let’s just say we got to know each other real well.” He laughed lightly. “Good guy. Real young when he policed my school. Guess you could say he was one of those people who told me to knock it off, and I actually listened.”

Wow, I thought, amazed at this bit of info that I hadn’t had to drag out of him. “He sped things along,” I interpreted.

“Yep. And made sure to keep the lid tight,” he added. By that, I knew he meant no media. The street was virtually empty, just a few late-night owls. Thank God for Hank.

“Where’s your car?” he asked, looking for my Prius.

I pulled out my phone from my purse. “I’m still drunk, silly. Calling an Uber.”

He stared at me confusedly.

“What?”

“I’ll be damned if you aren’t the most risk-averse girl I know.”

Jake had no idea he was my biggest risk, ever. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said as I dropped the pin location for an Uber to come get us.

He leaned in close to me to watch my phone. Jake didn’t touch me, but I could feel the warmth coming off his body.

“Risk averse, yet somehow you manage to get a fight started over you at the bar.”

I opened my eyes wide and gave him my best I dunno shrug.

“Seriously, Diggs. I just got booked for beating that guy’s ass. I could feel how scared you were of him. The least you can do is level with me. What’s your history with him?”

I took a deep breath as I stared down at my phone. The Uber was still five minutes away. Jake was right. As hard as I’d been coming at him with my questions, he’d never once questioned me. Until now. And after keeping me safe from Grant, and then going to jail for me, he had a right to know.

“Grant and I have a strange history. We’re both from Sugar Tree, and we dated in middle school, briefly. We went to the same college too, him to play baseball and me to play softball. So we always sort of knew each other. Then at the beginning of my junior year and his senior year of college, we started dating. It was sort of a fairy tale: the star softball player and the star baseball player, together.”

“Except that was all just a veneer,” Jake said, taking my hand in his.

“It was. We tried to be happy—and maybe sometimes we were—but Grant had…issues.”

Jake arched an eyebrow, and his grip on my hand tightened.

“What kind of issues?”

“He had a bad temper, and…”

“Shit,” Jake said as I trailed off. “I have a temper too.”

“No, yours isn’t like his,” I said, backtracking.

“Well, what would he do?”

“It was just…when he got riled up…he yelled a lot,” I said, softening the truth. I didn’t want to go all the way and tell him everything. Maybe, in some ways, I still hadn’t totally admitted to myself what had happened with Grant and me. I just wanted to push it out and forget.

Jake squinted at me. I hoped he wouldn’t notice how uncomfortable I was beginning to feel. I did my best to mask it. He broke off his gaze, nodding, and looked into the distance, as if he’d had some deep realization.

“I do have a bad temper. And that’s the first time you haven’t just shot it to me straight. C’mon Andrea, I don’t like you because you soften the truth. I like you because you tell it like it is. To me. With me.”

I pulled back my hand, unsure exactly where Jake was going. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Andrea, I’m a celebrity. People line up to stroke my ego. They’re ‘yes people.’ I ask them if what I’m doing is right, and they nod and say yes. Very few people step up and challenge me. Well, except for Mr. Yerac. And my agent—and now you.” He paused and tensed his jaw, as if refocusing himself. “Look, my point is, don’t be afraid to tell me like it is. Don’t gloss it over. I have a temper, yes, it’s true, and I’m not always proud of it. But it’s there. Best not to ignore these unpleasant truths about ourselves. If we don’t acknowledge them, we don’t have a shot at fixing them.” He stopped, laughing lightly. “A week ago, I would have never even thought about fixing a damn thing. You’ve changed that.” He looked over at me. “So basically, what I’m saying is, don’t ever bullshit me, Diggs. Give it to me straight, no chaser. That’s what I respect about you. You’re a straight shooter.”

“I wouldn’t tell you anything but the truth as I see it.” But I couldn’t hold his stare. I looked down and away. I put my hand over my heart and adjusted my golden cross pendant, then nervously fondled the claddagh ring I wore that was pointed outward. I wanted to tell him the full truth about Grant, but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t yet.

My heart lurched a little, but I was afraid if I told the whole truth, something awful would happen. And I didn’t even know what that thing was.

We didn’t talk the whole way to his condo, both lost in thought, holding hands. I didn’t overthink the way Jake had opened up to me and how I’d hesitated. I’d admitted more to him about Grant than I’d admitted to anyone, but he was right, I usually was a straight shooter.

The Uber stopped first at Jake’s apartment, which was right off the Kennedy Expressway. So far, it’d been smooth sailing. The streets weren’t that busy, and our driver didn’t recognize Jake at all.

“Do you want me to wait and make sure you get in your building okay?” I asked with a tired smile, elbowing him to get out.

“Maybe. Are you willing to punch out any possible attackers who come at me in the ten-foot walk to my door?” He grinned.

I managed a small laugh, but I was mentally wiped, and he seemed to sense that. He lingered for a moment before opening the car door to leave, his eyes gazing into mine.

“Seriously though. Thank you for getting me. You’re a good person and a true friend, and there aren’t a lot of people I’ve ever said that to.”

I smiled. “I kinda owed you. Saved me from a robbery, an ex—least I could do.”

Jake stared at me for one more beat, then shook his head. “I’m really going to need a social media overhaul after this whole fiasco.”

“Already on it,” I informed him with a wry smile. “Goodnight.”

He got out and stood up outside the car. He was about to close the door, but didn’t. He padded around his pockets.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, then ducked his head back into the car. “I think I left my keys at the police station.”

“You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, checking his pockets again. He was in jeans and a plain black tee. Not a lot of hiding places. “They had a little box where they put my things and…I got my wallet, my phone…but no keys.”

“We can go back.” That sounded like the worst idea ever at this godawful hour, on a hot August Friday night, just to go back through one of the most dangerous areas in the city to get to the jail.

“Okay,” Jake said, getting back in the Uber.

I sighed. “Let’s just go back to my place.”

He looked at me with a shocked expression.

“You sure?” he asked, and I swear I saw him tamping down his eagerness, playing it cool.

“I’d be an ass if I didn’t let you after the other night.”

“Hah. You said ‘ass.’ I’m putting that on my list of Digg’s swear words, right next to ‘damn.’ I like it.”

“Why do you?”

“I just like it when you’re dirty. Honestly, I’m not sure why,” he said, almost casually. “There’s a lot of things you do and say that turn me on.”

A shiver enveloped my entire body from head to toe.

“There is no hooking up tonight,” I said to him, very firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“Of course not,” he nodded. “The other night was a fluke. I respect your position with the company too much.”

I eyed him, a little suspicious at how diplomatic he was being. As the Uber driver eyed us before pulling back into traffic, Jake turned and looked out the window at the city lights that passed us by. I tried to stay on my side of the backseat, resisting the invisible magnetism pulling me toward him, but I could barely keep my eyes off him. The very fact that I wanted him so badly made me feel that there must be something wrong about this whole attraction.

I needed to make darn sure we kept this plutonic.

Once we arrived at my place, headed up the stairs, and went inside my small apartment, I looked around for something for Jake to wear to bed. “I was meaning to give these Jaguars PJs to one of my brothers, but I’ll let you wear them tonight.”

“Thanks,” he said as I tossed the bottoms at him, but he lingered by my door. “You have a lot of brothers?”

I nodded. I’d been in intermittent contact with them since I’d moved. “Three older, two younger,” I told him. “I was the middle child and only girl, so I was pretty much a tomboy growing up.”

He blinked. “Wow. Five brothers. That had to have been interesting.”

“Yeah, it had its moments,” I said, nodding and rummaging around for my own PJs. My very not-at-all-sexy PJs. “Baseball sort of anchored our world. It kept us close, you know? Especially after my parents divorced. It distracted us, made the transition to two homes bearable…” I trailed off. Jake was staring, and I was rambling again. “Anyways. Dad was a player, a long time ago, so we all really got our love of the game from him, from the womb, probably.”

“Ah, that’s why you played softball and were so amazing at it, huh?” he said.

I glanced over at him. “I loved it and I was good at my position, but I wasn’t like you,” I said, resuming my task. “I never had your kind of raw talent. I could have tried to keep playing professionally but, ultimately, I knew it wasn’t my future. So I got my degree and went into sports PR. So far, I’m liking it. I still get to be close to what I love.”

Jake gave me a thoughtful smile, and we stood there for a quiet moment before he thanked me again for the PJ bottoms. “I’ll take the couch. Do you have an extra toothbrush or something?”

“How lucky are you that you have me?” I teased.

He laughed and I got him the extra stuff. I cleaned his knuckles, and once the dried blood was washed off, it didn’t look bad. He said it didn’t hurt much as he wiggled his fingers and worked out a few kinks in his hand. It would probably be stiff for a few days, but he would be leaving for a three-game series tomorrow. I had a feeling his coaches and trainers would have a fit once the news broke. Their star pitcher in a fist fight. I had yet to look at my phone and had even turned it off. I didn’t want to know. At least not for a few more hours.

After we had changed into our PJs and I had taken out my contacts, Jake went into the living room, sat down on the couch, and put his feet up on the coffee table. He turned the TV on and fired up the Apple TV.

I opened up the fridge and called to him from the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”

“Yeah babe, you got a beer?” He said the word babe so nonchalantly, I had a sudden flash forward thirty years, kids having finally gone off to college, and him asking me the same thing.

What the hell is wrong with me?

When I looked over, Jake was looking back at me, but he immediately turned back around and started going through Netflix. Maybe he called every girl he knew ‘babe’? Or maybe he didn’t. I took out a couple Goose Islands and walked to the sofa. After I handed him his beer, I sat down cross-legged. He lounged next to me like he owned that spot on the couch. Like we did this all the time. I hadn’t felt this comfortable around a guy…ever. I thought about the public Jake and the private one. One was a friend to everybody, and the man before me seemed like he had no friends at all. Not really. He didn’t get close; he didn’t let anyone get close. If you kept everyone out, you wouldn’t get hurt. I understood that too. And it was a very lonely road.

He looked over at me, catching me staring intently at him. “What?”

“You’re so weird, but your weirdness is what makes you awesome. I don’t understand why you don’t want your fans on social media to know the real you,” I said candidly.

He shook his head, snapping open the can of beer. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Surprisingly, Jake seemed truly offended. “I just meant…you’re nothing like your social media persona. If I had to guess how you were based on your Instagram pictures, I’d say you were a binge drinker who occasionally hung out with models.”

He nodded. “I like that persona though. And that persona is me…times ten.”

I scrunched my face. “And thus, you’re weird.”

“Nuh-uh. You’re weird.”

I laughed. “What are we, in sixth grade? You’re teasing me about being weird.”

He paused and gave me an up-and-down.

“You’re right. They only thing you are is weirdly hot. It’s not fair that you just tempt me like this, and you’re so off limits.”

My heart started to beat faster. “I’m like the least attractive I could possibly be right now,” I said, pushing my glasses up my nose. “Seriously, I’m more nerd than hot.”

Jake huffed and moved a little toward me. “You seriously have no idea how hot you are. And you’re not even trying. I think that makes you even more hot.”

“Really, what’s hot about me?” I realized I probably sounded like a vain, vain person to ask, but I wanted to know. Jake’s mind was a puzzle to me.

And he didn’t seem to mind answering. “Well, where to start? Your hair has that messy but still-smells-good-from-going-out thing going on. It’s pretty. You’re confident enough to wear your glasses around me, when most girls think they have to look put-together at all times, even when they’re sleeping. That makes you beautiful. Your tank and PJs aren’t sexy, but you in them is, and I can’t stop staring—so yeah, all that is what makes you hot.” He took a sip of beer and stared at the TV. “Then there’s the fact that you don’t seem like most girls I’ve known my whole life since being on the fast track for the professional league. You’ve never seen me as Jake Napleton, the athlete. But just me, Jake. I don’t like people prying into my life, but I think you knowing is okay. I don’t feel like you’d use it against me, or judge me. I like that you know things about me that most don’t. Like it’s our secret.”

I sat there, stunned. Jake went back to flipping through Netflix, and I just sat, not sure how to process all that, because it was the longest speech he’d ever given. And they were all really amazing things, things that hit me dead center and made me warm all over. It made me like him even more. And that was dangerous. Jake wasn’t a guy that would last. I already knew that. But I was falling for him, and my attraction to him would only get deeper.

“Wow, okay,” I said, nodding. I blinked slowly and swallowed, my throat dry and my palms clammy. “That was quite…nice of you to say all that. And on that note, I’m going to go to bed.”

Abruptly, I set my unopened can of beer on the coffee table, and then went into my room and shut the door. I thought I heard Jake croak out a “good night,” but I was in a familiar mode right now: panic.

Just like at our dinner, I wanted to flee. This time, there was no Grant to distract or confuse me. This time, I was afraid of what I’d do, afraid I’d really step over the line and break all my rules. I needed to get the thought of doing anything sexual with Jake off my mind, and there was only one way I could do that—by falling asleep as fast as I could.

The AC had started to kick in, so I slipped under the comforter. My skin was hot and so sensitive to the touch that I could feel every thread of the comforter scraping against me. I made sure my phone was on the nightstand, putting it on silent and ignoring all the missed calls, emails, and texts. Everything would be better in the morning. It had to be.

I lay there, not at all sleepy, and wondered what it was that I really wanted. It was all just a giant haze inside my head. Here I had this gorgeous man on the other side of the apartment, yet I couldn’t be with him.

Why not? asked a voice inside my head.

It would never work. Just drop it. I’m not that kind of girl.

And if you were, would that really make you a bad person?

He’d hurt me.

Or he could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you…

A cacophony of little voices spoke to me in my head. My mother telling me never to touch a boy because it was wrong, to come home and be a good girl. Steve telling me to “do what I had to do,” or else. Amy saying I was taking this whole situation way too seriously, and I should just enjoy the journey and stop worrying about the destination.

The one voice that didn’t seem present, I realized, was my own. What did Andrea want?

I slipped a hand inside the shorts I had on and felt between my legs. I was so wet I’d probably have to change these shorts before I fell asleep. If I was going by what my body wanted, it was pretty clear I’d end up crossing the line with Jake.

Why was I so insistent on creating these lines inside my own head? Where did it come from?

My finger lingered at the top of my slit for a moment. I grazed my clit, letting myself enjoy the pleasure for just a few seconds. A few seconds turned into a few minutes, and next thing I knew, I was squirming on the bed underneath the comforter, wondering how Jake’s finger would feel doing the exact same thing right now.

How would Jake be with me? In one manner, he was so gruff and manly and downright intimidating, yet he had a softer side that rarely surfaced.

My breathing increased, and thinking became a bit harder as I circled myself with more enthusiasm, knowing exactly how Jake would be.

Gentle at first. Tender even, with those long fingers. He was well aware of the power that he had, and he’d use it for good.

Then he’d grip my hips roughly—with those same hands that he’d just been using so tenderly before—as he entered me.

Oh God. A moan escaped my lips, and I covered my mouth with my free hand. I couldn’t stop now.

I was in the moment, and I was realizing that knowing Jake was just outside my door made the experience better. More real.

I’d never done anything like this. I wasn’t even much of a masturbator, yet trying to fight my desire had only made it stronger.

In the midst of the high I was feeling, knuckles rapped at the door. “Hey Diggs. You still up?”

Suddenly, I was brought back to the real world. I whipped my hands out from under the covers, and, for some reason, jumped off the bed and onto my feet. “Yes, I’m awake,” I croaked.

“Okay, I’m coming in for a second. You decent?”

“Uhhh...yeah,” I said, which was technically true.

I saw the knob turn, and he appeared at the doorframe.

“There’s something I wanted to say. I was just trying to go to sleep, and I couldn’t. I shouldn’t have said that stuff. My bad. So what if I like you? You’ve been too nice to me, and I know you’re probably nice to everybody, so…just forget what I said, okay? I shouldn’t have said anything that made you uncomfortable…”

Jake’s body reflected the light coming from outside my room, and the way it crossed his abs emphasized every last muscle like this was some kind of photo shoot.

“Diggs, you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” My chest rose and fell, and I awkwardly stood, staring at him, too frozen to make a move. Did he just say he liked me? Not that he hadn’t said it before, but this time, I believed it.

His eyes moved over me slowly, like a finger lightly dragging over flesh. I couldn’t look away from his long eyelashes as his gaze began at my feet and continued up the rest of my body. My mouth parted. Anticipation made my body warmer. My defenses had been weakened to their last line, and I didn’t have much left.

With all of the white noise hurling through my head, one piece of advice stuck out; oddly enough, from Amy:

Why are you keeping yourself from having what you want?

My eyelids fluttered and returned Jake’s lingering gaze, traveling from his face downward, and landing on the large bulge between his legs.

I swear I saw it move.

“You don’t look fine,” he finally said, taking a step toward me and destroying the imaginary fence I had put up between us.

I took a mini step in his direction, and eclipsed the remaining space between us, so that we stood inches from each other.

“I’m fine,” I stated weakly, and looked up at Jake.

“Okay. I just don’t like going to bed feeling like there are unspoken things between us that we need to get out. Goodnight.”

He flashed me a grin, then turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.