"Wait up. I'll walk you to your car."

Haley hunched her shoulders, jammed her hands deeper into the jacket pockets, and kept walking. Maybe he'd figure out she was ignoring him if she put enough distance between them. Maybe he'd stop following her and just leave.

And maybe she'd win the lottery and move to a tropical island somewhere.

What the hell was Zach even doing here? How had he known where to find her?

The answer to that was as obvious as the fact that he wasn't going to leave her alone, no matter how fast she tried to walk.

Megan.

Damn her and her meddling. Why had she told Zach where she was? What else had Megan told him? Surely she hadn't mentioned Jimmy. Surely she hadn't told Zach about—

No, Megan wouldn't do that. Haley had made her promise, had sworn her to secrecy. Told her it was nothing. Told her it didn't matter, that it was over and done with.

No, Megan wouldn't have told Zach anything about that. But what about Jason's sister, Jenny? She had noticed those stupid bruises earlier tonight, at the game. Had asked what had happened. Tried making a big deal out of them. 

They weren't a big deal. They were nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It was Haley's fault. All of it. She should have never gone to the game tonight. She shouldn't have gone back to Mystic's, shouldn't have tried to have a normal night out.

She should have never told Megan where she was going, should have never told her she was leaving. But she had—because she didn't want her friend worrying.

At least she hadn't told Megan why she was leaving, hadn't told her about the text messages her ex had sent while she was at Mystic's. He missed her. He needed to see her.

Needed her.

He was heading to Mystic's to look for her.

To find her.

Haley swallowed back the panic and started walking faster. Two blocks, that was as far as she needed to go. Just two blocks. Then she could run upstairs to her apartment and slam the door shut behind her. Lock it. Crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head and pretend the last few months had never happened.

Pretend her life hadn't turned into a hellish nightmare.

"Red! Wait up."

Zach's voice was closer, too close, calling her by that stupid damn nickname. Haley sped up. If she could reach the corner before he caught up with her, she might be able to lose him.

She lengthened her stride, hurrying now. The sole of her boot slipped on the slick pavement and her leg slid out from under her. She lost her balance, tried pulling her hands from the jacket pockets to catch herself before she fell. Haley held her breath, waiting for the impact.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, catching her before she sprawled face-first onto the snow-covered sidewalk. Her heart slammed into her chest and she told herself it was because of the near-fall, that it had nothing to do with the hardness of Zach's broad chest pressed against her back.

Nothing to do with the heat coming from the large body behind her. Nothing to do with the clean spicy scent—intoxicating and sensual—wrapping around her.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you running?"

Haley stiffened and pushed away from him. "I'm not running."

"Really? Then what the hell do you call it?"

"Trying to get away from you." She turned away from him and started walking, a little more slowly this time so she wouldn't fall again.

"I said I'd walk you to your car. This isn't the greatest neighborhood, you know."

"I'm fine." And God, why wouldn't he just leave? Couldn't he take a hint? No, of course not. He was thick-headed. Stubborn. Terminally constipated.

He fell into step beside her. "Where'd you park?"

"I didn't."

"Then how did you get here?"

"I walked."

"Bullshit. I know you drove to Mystic's. And I know there's no way in hell you walked from there to here. Now where'd you park?"

"By my place. Now leave. Go."

"Are you always so fucking bullheaded?"

Haley came to an abrupt stop and turned around, her hands fisted on her hips. "Are you always so terminally constipated?"

A grin teased one corner of his mouth, lifting it in a crooked smile that sent her pulse rate soaring. "Constipated, huh? That's one word for it. And only around you, sweetheart."

"You're an ass." Haley started walking again, trying to ignore him, hoping he'd get the hint.

"You going to tell me where we're going?"

"We aren't going anywhere. Now just leave me alone. Go away."

"I'm just trying to help."

And shit, his voice was too low. Too serious. Like he actually meant what he said, like he was talking about something entirely different than walking her to her car. Like he really wanted to help, for reasons she didn't understand.

Reasons she didn't want to understand.

She squelched the small flicker of heat that sparked to life inside her and waved one hand in his direction, blowing him off. "How? By annoying the shit out of me?"

Zach stepped around her, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face her. His brown eyes were too dark, too intent. Too hard. She didn't need this, not now. Not with everything else going on in her life.

And definitely not from Zach. He was a thorn in her side, constantly rubbing her the wrong way. They had nothing in common except a desire to annoy each other, to get on each other's nerves. To verbally spar, parry, thrust.

A shiver went through her, one that had nothing to do with the cold, damp air, and everything to do with the image that suddenly popped into her head.

Thrust.

Wrong word. So very wrong.

But she wasn't surprised. Why should she be? It wasn't the first time she'd imagined Zach on his back, his naked body hard under hers as she rode him. It wasn't the first time she'd felt that spark of excitement—of desire—shoot through her. It probably wouldn't be the last, either.

All the more reason to step around him, to put more distance between them. She had enough problems as it was, she sure as hell didn't need to add Zach Mummert to the list.

"Don't you have to get back to your harem or something?"

A quick grin teased his mouth. "Not tonight, sweetheart. Tonight, it's all about you."

"Spare me, please." Haley rolled her eyes and tried to step around him. But he was quicker and moved in front of her again, his large hands reaching for her.

She flinched. She didn't mean to, instinctively knew Zach wouldn't hurt her.

Yeah, because her instincts had been so dead-on lately.

Zach dropped his arms to his sides. His expression changed, becoming harder. Anger flashed in his eyes and a muscle jumped in his clenched jaw. Haley held her breath, waiting for the questions she knew she would never answer.

"Tell me what's going on, Haley."

And shit, he'd actually used her name. Not Red, but her real name. If that wasn't a sign to run away, she didn't know what was. She shook her head and tried to step around him again. "Nothing."

"Bullshit. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"I'm just trying to help—"

"I don't need your help! I don't need anyone's help." Haley pushed past him, prayed he would just let her go. He didn't. He caught up to her with one quick step, swearing under his breath.

"You're a fucking pain in my ass."

"Trust me, the feeling is completely mutual."

"Where are you going?"

He wasn't going to stop. He was like a starving dog with a bone, refusing to give it up, refusing to back away. Did it matter? No. They were almost to her place, he'd figure it out soon enough.

"Home. Okay? I'm going home. Now leave me alone." She ignored the way his eyes widened in surprise, the way the surprise turned into a scowl as he looked at the rundown buildings, the trash littering the sidewalk, the dilapidated cars lining the street. Haley knew exactly what he was thinking. Why wouldn't she, when she thought the same damn thing every morning when she woke up and every night before she went to bed?

She pulled the keys from her pocket as they approached the building housing her apartment. The brick front had been painted years ago, probably in an attempt to hide the neglect. The white was nothing more than a distant memory, discolored by years of wear and even more neglect. It looked like every other sad building on the block: discolored, depressing, dilapidated. Used and forgotten.

Just like the people who lived there.

"This is where you live?"

"Not everyone can afford to live on easy street, Mummert." She stopped in front of a metal door, its industrial green paint cracked and peeling. It was supposed to be locked, but the lock had been broken for as long as she could remember.

"That's not what I meant."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter." She pushed the door open, grimaced when she noticed the light at the top of the stairs was out again. She'd have to change it herself, nobody else would.

Or maybe she'd just leave it. She wouldn't have to see the stains on the floor, the dirt on the stairs or the marks on the wall if the light stayed out.

Except the landing outside her apartment would be too dark without it.

It didn't matter. She could unlock her door in the dark if she had to. It wouldn't be the first time.

She stepped inside the entranceway then turned to face Zach. "I'm home. You can leave now. Good bye."

Only he didn't leave—he pushed the door open wider and followed her inside. The muscle on the side of his jaw jumped again as he looked around, disapproval on his face. His gaze scanned the small entranceway, moved to the two doors lining the narrow hall in front of them before darting toward the darkened staircase. The scowl deepened.

"Which one's yours?"

"2B. Upstairs." She pointed with the keys then tried to move around him. "You can leave—"

"I'll walk you up."

"Why? I'm a big girl, Mummert. I can make it on my own."

He turned to her, his dark eyes unreadable in the surrounding shadows. His mouth curled up in something that might have been a grin except it was too short, too cold, there and gone in a heartbeat. "I'm just trying to be a gentleman, sweetheart."

Haley laughed. "Yeah? Since when?"

She didn't wait for a response, just turned and hurried up the stairs. She heard his laughter behind her, felt relief spread through her at the sound of his heavy steps as he followed her.

Relief? Ridiculous. She shouldn't be feeling relief. She shouldn't be feeling anything but annoyed—which was exactly how she'd been feeling ever since Zach showed up at the bar tonight. Cocky, arrogant. So full of himself and that bullshit concern he was playing at. Why? Why did he care? He shouldn't. He didn't. She wasn't his concern, never had been. Never would be.

But she couldn't deny that his presence behind her on the darkened staircase made her feel safer. A momentary lapse in reason, no doubt. Something she'd kick herself for later.

After she made it safely inside her apartment. After the door was locked and the lights were turned on and she didn't have to worry about imagined dangers lurking in the shadows.

And now she was being melodramatic. Maybe even a bit paranoid.

She swore to herself and jammed the key into the lock, shoved the door open and reached inside to turn on the light as she glanced at Zach over her shoulder. "I'm home. You did your good deed for the day. Now leave."

"You don't want me to check for monsters under your bed?"

"No, I don't. I didn't even want you following me here." But Haley was talking to air because Zach had already pushed his way into the small apartment. She followed him inside and slammed the door. "Dammit, Zach, I don't want you here."

He spun around so fast that she took a step back and collided with the door. Something flashed in his eyes, something dark and hot that aroused the glimmer of heat simmering deep inside her.

The glimmer of heat that always coiled there, waiting, whenever she was near him.

He placed his hands against the door on either side of her head and watched her with those dark eyes. She was caged by his body, by the heat and scent of him. Tension rolled off him in waves, thick, heavy. Threatening to drown her.

Threatening to pull her under and sweep her away.

The breath caught in her throat. Not from fear. No, what she was feeling definitely wasn't fear. This was worse than fear.

More dangerous than fear.

It threatened to rip every ounce of self-preservation away from her. Threatened to destroy all thought, all reason.

And it proved, once again, that her instincts had stopped working long ago—if they had ever been working right in the first place.

She needed her damn head examined.

It was that realization that gave her the strength to place her hands against his chest—warm, broad, hard—and push. She might as well have been pushing against a steel wall for all the good it did. He didn't budge.

He didn't even blink.

"Tell me what's going on, Red."

"Nothing. You're in my way. Move."

"Where did the bruises come from?"

"Nowhere."

"Tell me."

"I did." Her hands were still against his chest but she was no longer pushing against him. The heat of his skin warmed her palms. Ridiculous. It was just his shirt, that was it. She couldn't feel his skin, she was only imagining it. And if she wasn't careful, she might actually curl her hands into the soft material of his shirt and pull him closer.

She clenched her jaw and pushed against him again. Even she knew there was no effort behind it.

What kind of game was he playing? What kind of game was she playing? She didn't know, only knew that her heated blood thickened with excitement. The warmth that had been simmering inside her earlier grew and spread, creating a delicious ache between her legs. The points of her nipples rubbed against her sweater, growing harder each time her chest rose and fell.

He lowered his head, holding her in place with his dark gaze. His breath was warm against her skin when he spoke. "Tell me, Haley. The truth this time."

She tried to clear her throat, tried to force a flippant tone she didn't feel to her voice. "I told you. Rough sex."

"Bullshit." He moved his right hand, cupped her cheek in his large palm. Rough, hot. She fought the urge to close her eyes and let her head drop back. Fought the urge to lean into him.

He traced her jaw with his knuckles, ran his hand down along her neck then spread his fingers along her throat. She felt the power in his touch, the strength, and knew that she'd be unable to fight him off if he wanted to hurt her.

But there was no panic. No fear. Not even when his fingers tightened, ever so slightly. She gasped, shocked at the strength of need and desire that exploded deep inside her. Zach's eyes flared, his pupils dilating as he watched her.

Always watching.

Haley swiped her tongue across her bottom lip, experienced a surge of excitement and satisfaction when his hungry gaze dropped to her mouth. What would it feel like to have Zach's mouth on hers? To have that big hard body pressed against her as he kissed her? Would he be a sloppy kisser? Or would he be too forceful? Too demanding?

Yes, demanding. Of that she had no doubt. But not forceful. Not sloppy. She had a feeling that Zach's kisses were the kind that made a woman forget her name. Forget all reason.

Forget...everything.

And God, she wanted to forget. Needed to forget. Her shitty life. Her shitty ex and everything he'd put her through. Just for tonight. For an hour. No more than that. One hour to pretend...

She leaned forward, hardly daring to breathe, knowing she'd regret all of this in the morning. Zach was nothing more than a player with a harem of women who'd come running as soon as he crooked his finger. Did she really want to be nothing more than another notch on his hockey stick?

Yes. For tonight, anyway.

Zach's hand slid away from her throat. He stepped back with a muffled grunt, the sound more like a growl. She stared up at him, trying to understand the scowl on his face. Trying to understand what had just happened.

What wasn't happening.

He tugged on her hand and pulled, moving her away from the door as he opened it. His hand curled around the edge of the rough, rusty metal, his dark gaze never leaving hers. "When we finally get together, sweetheart, it won't be because you need a distraction."

Haley's laugh was short, brittle, nothing more than an attempt to hide her disappointment and confusion. "When we get together? What kind of fantasy world are you living in?"

A grin tilted the corners of his mouth and flashed in his eyes as his gaze raked her from head to toe and back again. "One that has those long, luscious legs wrapped around my waist while I drive into you so hard, you forget your name."

"Yeah, right. In your dreams, Mummert."

His grin widened. "For tonight, absolutely."

"I'm never going to be a notch on your hockey stick."

"Why not? I've got a special spot waiting, just for you."

"You're an asshole."

"And you wouldn't have me any other way." The grin faded and his eyes turned serious. "Lock the door behind me, Haley."

He closed the door before she could say anything else. She waited, listening for the sound of his steps on the staircase. All she heard was silence.

Haley clenched her jaw and reached for the knob, locking it. Then she turned the deadbolt and slid the chain into place. Only then did she hear the sound of Zach's steps on the stairs. A few seconds later, she heard the sound of the metal door closing downstairs.

And damn if she didn't hear him whistling on the street below. She ran to the window and pulled back the curtain, watched as he walked toward the corner and disappeared from sight.

And fought the urge to chase after him.