Can I ask you a question?” Jeremy is sitting on the side of my bed, tying the shoes he’d convinced his housekeeper to run over here from his apartment, along with an entire change of clothes so that we could go from here straight to the special needs school. She also brought Sasha, which feels significant, though I’m somehow afraid to explore why.

I swear softly under my breath as I completely miss the tiny hole in the bottom of my earlobe and try to use the back of the silver sterling hoop to poke a brand new one. “Sure.”

“Yesterday, when I brought you to my place for dinner, you seemed really nervous.” Jeremy’s voice trails off.

“That’s a statement, not a question.”

My second attempt goes more smoothly and I fasten the earrings and step back to study my reflection in the full length mirror. The green sweater dress matches my eyes and the cut disguises the fact that I’ve lost too much weight since learning about my dad’s diagnosis. All bones and no meat these days.

The little bit of makeup I put on draws attention to my eyes, which just this afternoon Jeremy said were the first thing he noticed about me. And my French braid adds just the right amount of elegance for a low-key awards banquet.

“It’s just that you were nervous. More so than what seemed natural. I was wondering why?”

I really hoped to avoid this particular conversation. There’s no way to sugar coat it.

Maybe the best way to approach is quickly and bluntly. “A few years back I was dating a guy. We’d been going out for a few months and I guess he got tired of waiting for me to be ready, so he decided to give me some encouragement.”

Stone-faced, Jeremy stares at me. Unable to look at him, I go to my closet and drag my one pair of fancy high-heeled boots out.

“He got rough and I screamed, which caused his neighbor—he had this super cheap apartment with extra thin walls—to yell something. That distracted my – ex – boyfriend enough that I was able to run out of the apartment. Once I was out of the building, I called my dad.”

It was one of the hardest calls I’ve ever made. With the front of the dress I was wearing torn, my mouth bruised, and my hair a tangled mess, there was no hiding what had happened.

“He took me to the police station and insisted I file assault charges, even though I just wanted to pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened. But he pointed out that if I didn’t do something, then my boyfriend might do it again, to someone else. That night, I pressed charges against him. The next day, when I heard he’d been arrested, I asked my dad to drive me back to the county jail and I officially broke up with the jackass.”

At the time, I thought it would be a horrible moment. But seeing him under arrest, completely robbed of his freedom even for just a short period of time, and knowing that I’d done the right thing, had been empowering.

“He was arrested, found guilty, served a short sentence, and will now spend the rest of his life as a registered sex offender. For the most part I put the entire experience behind me, but I never visited another man’s place when it was just the two of us. I always made sure someone else was there.”

A muscle on the side of Jeremy’s face jumps. His mouth flattens into a grim line. Standing and closing the short distance between us, he takes me in his arms, pulling me into his chest and holding me tightly.

“And I took advantage of the situation.” His voice rumbles against my cheek as his hands stroke my back, desperately offering comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head. “You have nothing to feel sorry about. I told you I wanted you, and I did.”

“But I put you in a tight spot.” Remorse colors Jeremy’s tone. “And I pushed my advantage.”

“Nonsense.”

Irrationally irritated by his self-flagellation, I shove back against his chest, putting space between us. “I chose to go up to your place with you. I’m the one who asked you to kiss me, not the other way around, and multiple times, you asked if I was sure. I have no regrets. You shouldn’t either.”

Jeremy drags a hand through his hair, messing up the style he spent several minutes creating. “It’s just—” He blows out a heavy breath. “I know how it feels to be trapped, to feel like you have no choice. I swore I’d never put anyone in that position.”

My eyes narrow. This is new. There’s a rawness in his voice, a vulnerability in his stunning eyes that I’ve never seen before. I suspect no one else has either.

I go completely still, sensing that if I move, he’ll come to his senses and not share whatever demons are haunting him.

His wild eyes meet mine. “Evan is like that. We’re identical twins—well, except for this.” He gestures carelessly at his eye that’s half Caribbean blue and half the color of melted gold. “Physically, we’re nearly a perfect match, but our personalities couldn’t be more different. I’m cautious and seldom make a move without weighing all the pros and cons, whereas he’s reckless and seldom considers consequences before he leaps.”

Which is how he ended serving time for assaulting a police officer, I think, but decide to keep my thoughts to myself.

“He also had, probably still has, a knack for manipulation. He’s able to say things to bend others to his will, like he’s altering reality and even though you know he’s wrong, you can’t help but go along with him. And he exploits weaknesses. He did it to me when we were kids, but I thought it was normal. It wasn’t until he was arrested and I took over Caldwell Industries that I learned he’d turned it into… I want to say a lifestyle. There wasn’t a single person in the organization who wasn’t worried or afraid of him. He turned all the employees against one another, and then fed on their paranoias to get whatever he wanted. I’ve only just managed to sort out all the damage he did.”

“And that’s why you’re so desperate to get that two percent of the company your dad put in trust for the first grandchild?”

Jeremy nods his confirmation. He looks so dejected, so miserable, I want to go to him, to offer him the comfort of my touch, my body, but I don’t. We’ve both exposed our deepest secrets, stripped one another bare, and in doing so, changed the tone of our relationship. Every single one of my instincts tells me that what we both need right now is space, just a few minutes alone to regroup, to come to terms with what has happened.

Unable to resist, I reach out, place a hand on his shoulder, and offer a little comfort. “I’m going to go get something to drink, okay?”

He nods, and I see my thoughts, my emotions reflected in his eyes. He needs a little space as much as I do.

I leave the room, shutting the bedroom door behind me with a small click, and head toward the kitchen. The pale white envelope Jeremy took out of his pocket when he first arrived here several long hours ago, the contents of which we still haven’t discussed, catches my eye.

Heart pounding, I pick it up and use my fingernail to slice the top open.