“Babe, you are delusional. He’s hard up for you. Trust me.”

I rolled my eyes for the millionth time tonight and took another sip of my Creamsicle margarita, refusing to agree with Tori, just like I was refusing to agree with the rest of the girls when they’d all said different versions of that exact same sentence at one point or another since we’d arrived at Low Bar.

Well, except for Jenna.

Since she worked at a lawyer’s office and didn’t waitress at Whitecaps, she didn’t have an opinion on the situation.

My situation.

Ha! I did not have a situation, which was why I kept rolling my eyes and giving more attention to my delicious drink than to the crazy going on around me. At this rate, I was likely to be lit before the hour was up. That was fine by me.

Two nights ago, I’d taken the best ride of my entire life, and that included the first ride I ever took on the back of my dad’s bike at the ripe age of eleven.

Riding with my dad had been fun. Adventurous. It made me happy, as did the memories of all our rides together. They were extremely special to me.

But riding with Sean? That was out of this world amazing, for many reasons, but the main reason being the feel of his body against mine in places that had never felt parts of Sean’s body before.

I was unprepared for how incredible it would be. And our ride was long, meaning I had plenty of time to soak in that incredible feeling.

And I soaked it in.

Now, it was girls’ night, which was typically always a good time, and this one was no different, if you didn’t count all the conversation focusing on me and my situation with Sean.

I never should’ve told them a damn thing.

Jenna was sitting next to me in the rounded booth we were occupying, wearing a cute little black dress that wasn’t as clingy as the one I had on, but still showed major cleavage. Sydney was on the other side of me, also dressed in a little black dress, this one clingy in a halter style. Tori was sitting in a chair at the end, her little black dress putting a whole new meaning to the word little. It clung majorly, showed cleavage, and had slits going up both sides, showing a peek of skin.

The theme of the night, you guessed it, was little black dresses.

I loved going out with a theme, especially when it didn’t require shopping to find something appropriate. I’d had my little black, strapless number I was wearing for years. It was a favorite of mine.

It made my butt look amazing, it somehow gave me curves I knew I did not have, and it stayed up, which was always a delight when dealing with something strapless.

Everyone was looking great. And everyone was here, except for Kali, who was out on her first official date with Cole.

I was hoping she was having fun. Kali deserved it. She was sweet and worked hard for her son, who didn’t have much in terms of a father figure. He was a giant, cheating loser.

The only other one of us who had any kids was Jenna. And Brian, Syd’s guy, was babysitting them so she could go out with us tonight. I thought that was really cool of him.

“Well, I have to say,” Jenna began, “I’ve never seen you two together, but…it definitely sounds like he’s interested in you. He was clearly jealous.”

“Clearly. Jealous,” Tori echoed, looking at me with knowing eyes, and then sipping her drink.

They were referring to the Patrick–Sean meeting that had taken place in my apartment two nights ago, before my spectacular ride. Really, I just wanted to talk about that. I’d like to relive it.

“He was not jealous of Patrick,” I argued. “Can’t be jealous when you’re not interested, and he’s not interested.”

“Fill me in on why he’s not interested again,” Jenna requested.

God, this was not what I wanted to discuss. Maybe I’d just subtly change the subject…

“You know what’s amazing about riding on the back of a bike?” I asked the table.

Tori stared at me, then smiled at Jenna and informed her, “Jamie had a party last year, Shay invited Stitch, and he blew her off.”

I dropped my head back and groaned.

“What?” Tori asked. “That’s what happened.”

She was not wrong. And I wasn’t groaning because she was not wrong. I was groaning because it killed me thinking about this.

And now, I wasn’t only going to be thinking about the biggest rejection of my life, but I was also going to be talking about it. This would involve rehashing that nightmare and all the feelings I felt that day, which would lead to me feelings those feelings all over again.

Great.

“Okay, yes, that’s what happened. Fine. And there’s your proof, right there.” I looked at Jenna. “You see? He can’t be jealous because he isn’t interested in me like that. I asked him out and Sean made it really, really clear he didn’t want to go out with me—I waited for him outside after work, he knew I was waiting for him, and he didn’t even look at me when he walked out. He just left. Turned and left. Did not look back. So, trust me when I say, he isn’t interested.”

Pain circled my heart. Ignoring it was a lost cause, so I didn’t even bother. I just felt it.

“Well then, what about throwing away the flowers?” Syd asked.

I looked at her. “I don’t know. Maybe he just hates flowers.”

It was an honest guess. Sean wasn’t exactly the type of guy to have a line of credit going at 1-800-flowers. Maybe he had a bad experience with a florist once. I didn’t know.

“Come on, Shay.” This plea came from Tori.

“Come on what?” I asked, my voice raising and drawing attention from the patrons around us.

I shouldn’t have been yelling, but there were a lot of emotions involved here, and I was not one to keep a good hold on my emotions, I never had been, no matter if I was in a public place or not.

“Just admit to the possibility of Sean being jealous,” Tori pleaded.

“He doesn’t like me like that,” I snapped. “We’re just friends. I’m his buddy, that’s it. And you know what? Being his friend means a lot to me, because I can see just how much it means to him. I’ve come to the conclusion that, aside from his ex, nobody was ever good to him. Ever. I’m talking not even when he was a little kid. Take a second and think about that. He thinks he’s nothing, because people told him that over and over until it stuck. And I’m doing everything I can and will continue doing everything I can to convince him that he is someone who matters and means something, and not just to me. I’ll be his friend. I’ll be whatever he needs me to be. And if that means I have to bury my feelings for him and never, ever act on them, then so be it. Sean’s self-worth matters more to me anyway.”

I drained my Creamsicle, then pointed at the waitress walking past our booth. “Yo! Can I get another?” I asked her.

The waitress acknowledged me, then gestured around the table with the pen in her hand. “Anyone else ready?”

Nobody said a word.

I glanced around at the three sets of eyes all glued on me—all glassed over with emotion. That couldn’t be right. I blinked the haze of alcohol away and glanced again.

Still glassy.

“What?” I questioned the table.

Being ignored, the waitress stepped away.

Sydney was the first to speak, and she did it with tears in her eyes. “Um, I just really want him coming to Sunday dinner. He belongs there with us. I want him to know that.”

I nodded in agreement. “I’ll be sure to mention it to him. I’d like him there too.”

“Also, I think what you’re doing for him is quite amazing,” she added.

“He deserves it,” I said. “I’m not doing anything he shouldn’t have been getting his entire life.”

“May I say something?” Jenna asked.

I looked to her. “Of course, as long as you’re not going to tell me how interested he is again.”

She smiled and pushed her long, dark hair back over her shoulder. “Not that directly, no.”

“Even indirectly, save it.”

“Just hear me out,” she requested.

The waitress returned with my drink. I popped the straw in my mouth and narrowed my eyes at Jenna, took a generous sip, then waved her on. “Fine. Go.”

She slid her mostly finished drink to the side and angled herself to face me. “Okay, first, I don’t even know this man, but I’m telling you right now, when I do meet him for the first time, I will be hugging him.”

I smiled at her.

“Yeah, Stitch is definitely getting embraced. Jesus.” Tori shook her head. “I hate it when children are dealt shitty parents.”

“It’s a terrible thing that happens every day, unfortunately,” Jenna said, then turning back to me, she continued. “I’m wondering, because of his horrible upbringing and the way he views himself, if maybe he doesn’t feel worthy of you…and that’s why he hasn’t made any attempt to take your friendship any further.”

Tori began nodding fast, and pointed at me when I looked at her. “Absolutely. That’s it. Nail on the head, right there.”

“And he’s probably felt this way since last year, when you asked him out,” Jenna went on. “Which was why he blew you off the way he did. Not that I’m excusing rude behavior, because he could’ve told you he wasn’t planning on going or at least been a little nicer in his rejection, but I’m thinking this is some deep-rooted issue with him. He sees himself as nothing, you said it. And then he sees you as, well…you. You’re sweet and beautiful and kind to him, Shay, and he doesn’t feel deserving of it.”

I had stopped sipping my drink, but my fingers were still wrapped around the stem of my glass, and hearing what Jenna had just said, they were now gripping it tightly.

Even in my half-drunk state, I was fully processing what she was saying. I just didn’t know whether or not to believe it as a true possibility.

“Oh, my God,” Syd whispered.

My head snapped left. “What?”

“Oh, my God,” she repeated, still as a whisper as her eyes stayed unfocused on the table.

“What, hon. Spill it!” Tori shouted.

Syd looked over at me. “I can’t believe I forgot about this,” she said. “I mean, at the time, it was such a passing thing, and I didn’t press…”

“What?” I yelled, needing to know what the hell she was talking about already.

“After the party last year, I was working at Whitecaps and Stitch was, you know, Stitch. Broody. Making all kinds of noise in that kitchen. He was in such a bad mood back then.” She grinned at me. “And look at him now. I almost saw a smile out of him the other day.”

“Syd.” I leaned closer and snarled, “Focus.”

“Right. Anyway, he was glaring at you while you were filling salt shakers or something, and I suggested he just talk to you and quit with the whole silent treatment thing, and he said something about you having this light, and him not being good enough for it.”

My eyes widened.

“He said that?” Tori questioned.

“See,” Jenna said.

Syd nodded in confirmation. “In very few words, yes, that’s what he told me. He said you invited him to that party and what would he do there? Like he didn’t belong, you know? And then he said he had no business being around you. That you had light. He thinks you have light, Shay. And he doesn’t think he can touch it. He’s not good enough.”

“Yes, he is!” I blurted out in anger, which was purely reactional, since Syd wasn’t meaning what she’d said as a putdown; she was simply stating how Sean felt about himself. Regretting my outburst, I winced and leaned away. “Um, sorry. I know you’re not saying he’s not good enough. I just hear that and, well, it pisses me off.”

She pulled her lips between her teeth and fought a smile.

“Holy shit. He’s totally staying in the friend zone with you because he doesn’t think he’s worthy of more,” Tori said. “Holy shit! You gotta make a move, Shay.”

“Huh?”

“Make a move,” Tori repeated. “Stitch won’t. He’s probably scared to.”

“Aw, bless his sweet, little heart,” Jenna said, her hand to her chest. “Can we go hug him now?”

“Sure! Shay needs to make her move anyway.” Tori picked up her drink and held it out in front of her. “Right, Shay?”

I opened my mouth to respond, then realizing I didn’t have the words yet, lifted my drink and downed a generous amount of it. Then I licked cold Creamsicle off my lips and glanced around the table.

The girls were all staring at me, smiling, looking anxious.

I released my drink and touched my cool hand to my neck.

My skin was flushed and hot all over. My heart was pounding. I began breathing faster, thinking about what Syd had revealed and what Tori was suggesting I do, plus, I was definitely half drunk and well on my way to being fully drunk.

Could I go make a move on Sean? Was that even a good idea? What if he rejected me again?

What if they were right, though?

He said I had light. Me. And I knew Syd wasn’t drunk enough to make up something like that. She was tipsy. All the girls were. Not wasted to the point of inventing some conversation that never took place, though, meaning it absolutely took place.

Oh, my God.

There was a very, very strong possibility the girls were right about him. He didn’t feel worthy. And he was absolutely worthy. Not just of me, but of everything good this world had to offer him. Of love. Of kindness.

And I was going to make sure he knew that for good.

Tonight.

Drinks, and then game on.

“Jenna, how come you aren’t hooked up yet?” Tori asked from the front seat of the Uber we’d hitched after finishing up with our drinks at Low Bar.

We were on our way to Sean’s house so I could make my move.

Nerves aside, I couldn’t stop smiling.

And giggling. Everything became hilarious to me when I drank.

Like our driver—his name was B.J.

Come on.

“You’re gorgeous,” Tori went on, turning halfway in her seat and looking back at Jenna, who was seated by the other window, directly behind Tori. Syd was in the middle. “Just look at your cheekbones! Plus, you’re sweet. And you still got a killer body after popping out twins.” Tori glanced to the driver. “Doesn’t she? She’s a hot piece, right, B.J.?”

I clapped my hand over my mouth and giggled again.

“Uh, I don’t know. I guess,” B.J. answered, suddenly looking uneasy behind the wheel.

He reminded me of my old math teacher from high school. Real buttoned up. I wasn’t sure he’d ever thought about anyone being a hot piece before.

Tori scowled at him.

“I date here and there,” Jenna said. “But most of the guys either aren’t good enough to meet my kids and I find that out after one date, or they hear about my kids and never call me again.”

“That’s fucking rude,” I snapped, sitting forward to look at her. “Sean has kids, and I love that about him.”

Jenna smiled.

Looking to Syd, I saw she was smiling too. And because I knew Tori was most likely grinning, not just smiling, I refused to look at her and kept my eyes down until I could resume looking out my window.

Then I giggled for no apparent reason.

“So, what’s the game plan here?” Sydney asked. “I mean, after we all shower Stitch in affection.”

“Shay is going to make her move on him,” Tori informed.

“Alone,” I added, glancing around the car. “You hug him and then you leave. I’m not doing this with an audience.”

“Oh, come on,” Tori pleaded.

“No way.”

“I could take pictures!” Syd suggested. “Or a video. Ooh! I could add it to your Snap!”

I loved the idea of having a keepsake of this moment, especially one with a cool filter involved, but still, I shook my head. “No. Blowjob here is going to wait for you to finish with your hugs. Then he’s taking you home. Right, Blowjob?” I sat forward, held onto his headrest, and grinned at him in the rearview while the girls burst out laughing.

“Haven’t heard that one before,” he retorted.

“You haven’t heard it from me,” I said.

“Now I can die a happy man.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The car slowed to make a turn, and looking out the front window, I saw Sean’s house in the distance.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, pressing my back against the seat.

This was it. We were here. I was actually going to do this.

“This is so exciting!” Syd exclaimed, bouncing beside me.

I gripped the door handle and looked out my window.

We passed the driveway and slowed to a stop in front of the house. There was a car I didn’t recognize parked in front of Sean’s bike. A dark four-door.

I worried the girls and Val were here. I couldn’t invade during his time with them. That was way more important than my stupid move.

“Um, I don’t know if this is a good time,” I said.

“What? No way. You are doing this, Shay.” Tori was adamant.

I shook my head, looking from the car to the front door as it opened. Maybe they were leaving?

“Wait. Look,” I said, my finger pressing to the glass.

A woman stepped out of the house.

Not Val. I knew Val.

This woman looked to be around the same age, though. She was wearing a silver sequinned dress that showed a lot of leg and dipped low in the front, her hair was teased out to high heaven, and not in a good way, and she was wearing more makeup than any woman ever should. Even under the porch light, I could tell it was spackled on.

“What the heck?” I whispered.

“Who is that?” Jenna asked.

I didn’t know, so I just kept watching while wondering the same thing.

Before she stepped off the porch, the woman shoved money inside a wallet she was gripping.

Money?

“What the heck?” I whispered again, more harshly this time.

“Oh, my God, is that…a lady of the evening?” Syd questioned.

Tori snorted. “Hon, why would you call her that? Just say hooker. Or prostitute. Because that’s clearly what she is.”

“It is, right?” Syd asked.

“She’s definitely dressed for action,” Jenna said.

My stomach tightened and rolled at the same time. I felt a pressure build inside my chest, like someone was squeezing the ever-loving shit out of my heart and enjoying every second of it.

A prostitute?

Did Sean really just get sex from a prostitute?

I watched the woman with eagle eyes.

She walked to her dark, four-door car, which I was betting was not used to haul kids around. Pimps, maybe. She got in, backed out into the street, and peeled out, tires screeching and everything.

Like she was worried she’d get arrested for something illegal.

“My grandmother spells whore H-O-R-E,” Jenna said. “Isn’t that funny?”

“What the heck!” I screeched, unable to keep a lid on my reaction to this any longer. I threw my door open and climbed out, then stormed across that lawn as best I could, considering the heels I was wearing and how soft the lawn was due to the rain we’d had yesterday. My cross-body purse bounced wildly against my hip.

“B.J., do not move this car.” That order came from Tori.

“Shay, wait!” Syd called out behind me.

I did not wait. I couldn’t.

I was angry. I was sad beyond belief. I felt betrayed. But most of all, I was mad at myself for not getting through to Sean in terms of his worth.

All those things I was feeling were tearing me up inside so badly, I could not wait.

With a heavy fist, I beat on Sean’s door until it swung open. And when it did, the girls were all gathered behind me, whispering about that woman, about Sean, about me, and about the move I was about to make.

They were rethinking this plan.

Too bad I wasn’t.

Sean stood in front of me wearing nothing but those faded, ratty jeans. He was barefoot, shirtless, his hair was damp, meaning he’d just washed that woman off him.

My nose began to sting.

“Hey,” Sean greeted us, looking at the girls at my back, and then focusing on me, where his eyes did a slow, sexy travel down my body before returning to my face. “What’s up?”

“What’s. Up?” I echoed, bringing my arms across my chest and glaring at him. He did not just ‘what’s up’ me after having sex with a hooker. “Oh, I’ll tell you what’s up. You think you’re only worth some dirty, disease-infested, back-alley hood rat, who needs to find a new stylist immediately, and that just isn’t true. It’s not even close to being true. You deserve better. The best. You deserve…someone who at least knows how to tease their hair properly. That’s what’s up!”

“Damn,” Tori murmured.

“Wow. This is crazy.” That comment came from Syd.

Brows raised, Sean didn’t say a word. He just kept looking at me.

So I kept going. “How could you pay for sex? How could you think you’d have to, Sean?”

“The fuck are you talkin’ about?” he questioned.

“That woman! That skank who just left! You paid her for sex, didn’t you! I saw the money.”

“You mean my ex-sister-in-law?”

Someone gasped behind me. Oh, my God…They were thinking the same thing as I was.

“Your ex-sister-in-law is a lady of the evening?” I asked.

Sean frowned. “A what?”

“A hooker. Prostitute. Back-alley hood rat. They have a lot of titles,” I answered.

“Good to know,” he replied, leaning his shoulder against the door frame and shoving his hands in his pockets, like he was getting comfortable.

Comfortable? Really?

“Um, care to explain why you felt the need to pay your ex-sister-in-law money for sex?” I questioned, hands on my hips now.

“You drunk?” he questioned back.

“No.”

“Sound drunk.”

“I’m somewhat inebriated.”

“Spell inebriated.”

I glared at him. “I’d rather not, thank you very much.”

“That’s what I thought—drunk.” He looked over my head. “And what the fuck’s this? You bring your girls so they can run their mouth at me about shit they don’t fuckin’ know about too?”

“What the hell does that mean?” I questioned.

“Um, actually, we aren’t here to run our mouths at you at all. We’re here to give you affection.”

Sean stared at Sydney after she finished speaking. “You’re here to what?”

“Give you affection. Hugs.” Jenna shot her arm out over my shoulder. “Stitch, is it? I’m Jenna, Brian’s sister. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“This is hardly the time for introductions,” I snapped, pushing her arm down.

“Sorry. But I just didn’t want it to seem weird when I did this…” Jenna pushed forward to get in front of me, then, stepping up to Sean, she wrapped her arms tight around his middle and gave him a hug.

He stared at the top of her head until she pulled away, then he watched her with suspicion until she pushed her way back behind me, allowing room for Syd and Tori to step up next.

One at a time, they each gave Sean a hug that he did not reciprocate in the slightest—Syd holding on a little bit longer than Jenna, and Tori ending hers with a quick kiss on the cheek.

That would’ve pissed me off if it wasn’t Tori, and if I didn’t know the reason behind her doing it. Since it was one of my girls and she was merely giving Sean affection that was innocent in nature, I did not make a mental note to beat her ass another day and time.

With everyone back in position behind me, Sean lowered his eyes and met my own.

“You,” he said, not sounding angry but not sounding friendly either. “Inside,” he gently ordered. “The rest of you, go home. Now.”

“Righty-o!” Syd yelled, spinning around and hopping off the porch.

“It was so nice to meet you,” Jenna said. She waved at Sean and followed after Syd.

Tori gave me a quick hug and whispered in my ear, “I want major details tomorrow.”

I tried to smile when she leaned away, but it was fully hitting me now that I was about to step into Sean’s house with him, alone, and confront the shit show I just rolled up on all while making my move. The best I could manage was a half smile while laughing nervously.

“Bye, Stitch!” Tori yelled as she walked across the yard.

I slowly turned around, met Sean’s eyes again, and explained, just in case it wasn’t obvious already, “It was girls’ night. We get a little wild on girls’ night, and sometimes come up with a plan that involves a guy in one way or another.”

“This plan have to do with givin’ me hugs for some strange fuckin’ reason?” he asked.

“Yes.” I nodded firmly. “They, uh, have all been somewhat informed of your terrible upbringing and wanted to show you the love you’ve deserved your entire life. They feel you deserve it too. As much as me.”

Sean stared at me for a breath. His face held some emotion I was having difficulty comprehending under the low porch light. Then he straightened off the door, rubbed at his mouth, and stepped back, allowing me room for entry.

He did not speak.

I wasn’t sure that was a good sign or not, but I didn’t inquire. I cleared my throat and moved inside.

The light in the living room was on, but aside from that, the house was dark.

I pulled the linked chain of my cross-body bag over my head and tossed it on the couch. Sean stood at the door three feet away, staring at me. I wanted so, so badly to make my move, but that woman being here was bothering me, and I couldn’t get past it.

“I just—I don’t understand why you think you’d have to pay someone to—”

“Heard your speech the first time,” Sean interrupted. “You don’t need to repeat it.”

I breathed slowly through my nose and waited, feeling ready to crawl out of my skin, I was so troubled by this.

Sean brought his arms across his chest, took a deep breath, like he was preparing to say a lot, and then shared, “Bridgett, Val’s sister, was here tryin’ to pay me to stay away from my girls.”

My entire body went ramrod straight.

Sean did not, in fact, say a lot.

But what he did say had me flying so fast for that door, I forgot about my heels and nearly face-planted.

“Tell me where that skank-whore lives!” I shrieked. Sean’s arm circled my waist as he caught me up. He kept it there and he lifted me off my feet, preventing me from reaching the door. “I’m going over there right now! She cannot do that to you! She has no right!”

“She’s got a right, Shayla.” Sean spoke in my ear.

“I’m gonna pull out all her stupid, ugly hair and make her eat it!” I kicked the air, reaching over his shoulder for the door, and then allowing his words to penetrate, I quit fighting him, turned my head, and met his eyes. “What do you mean, she’s got a right? No, she doesn’t.”

“She’s protectin’ my kids,” he said. “She’s just lookin’ out for them and Val. That is not a bad thing for her to be doin’, babe.”

I sucked in a breath.

Oh, my. Babe felt nice. I liked that.

But I had to keep focus. My argument was solid, and he needed to hear it.

I gripped Sean’s shoulders for support. Our fronts were mashed together, and my feet were still dangling in the air. “It is a bad thing if it involves you not seeing them, Sean,” I told him. “She can’t do that. She can’t keep you from your girls.”

He shook his head. “She isn’t.”

“She isn’t?”

“Saw the money, didn’t you?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. “Oh. Right.” Yeah, I definitely got a good look at that money.

“Bridgett saw the house, saw all the shit I’ve done to it, and listened while I laid it out for her,” he said. “She needed to see this for herself and hear it from me. I’ve lied a lot in the past, Shayla. A lot. Hurt Val more than once. Bridgett has a right to be comin’ up in here and makin’ sure I’m not gonna fuck up my kids’ lives any more than I already have. She meant good by it.”

“I’m having a hard time agreeing with you on that,” I told him honestly.

“’Cause you thought I was fuckin’ her?”

I flinched and felt blood pooling in certain areas of my body at the same time. That was both a disgusting thought and seriously sexy the way he said the word fuckin’.

“Well, can you blame me for thinking that? She was dressed like a two-dollar H-O-R-E.”

Sean’s mouth twitched. “You are drunk. You can’t spell for shit.”

“Yes, I can. That’s just how Jenna’s grandmother spells it.” I wiggled until he set me on my feet. “And I’m not drunk. I’m half drunk. There’s a difference.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I have some sense about me still. I saw all the makeup that crusty bitch was wearing and knew it was way too much. If I was drunk, I might’ve thought differently. How come she was dressed like that anyway?”

“She works at the Dollhouse.”

My mouth dropped open. “She’s a stripper and she’s coming over here judging you? Is she insane? Like, I’m seriously asking, because if I do see her again, her mental state will determine whether I slap the shit out of her for this stunt tonight. I don’t need some psycho chick breaking into my apartment.”

Sean grinned. He actually grinned. And even though it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my entire life, it aggravated me slightly because he was doing it out of amusement.

“What?” I asked, hands on my hips and my head cocked to the side. “Don’t make fun of me. I’m serious. I don’t like how she came up in here looking to pay you off. That hurts me. It hurts me for you. You need those girls in your life, Sean, and they need you in theirs. They need their dad. The man you are…their lives would be severely lacking without you in it.”

Sean’s grin softened when I finished speaking. Then his eyes did this slow appraisal of my face, and just as my breath started picking up under his scrutiny, he reached out and grabbed my neck while stepping forward, pulled me firmly against his chest, circled my upper back with his other arm, and dropped his head so his mouth was in my hair.

We were sealed together. This was a legitimate embrace. Not like the neck squeezes he’d given me before. No, this was more.

I forced myself to breathe so I wouldn’t pass out and miss this beautiful moment. Then I hugged him back for nearly a full thirty seconds.

I knew this because I was counting.

Cheek pressed to his pec, I inhaled slowly and deeply.

His skin smelled so good. And his body felt amazing against mine. And his mouth in my hair, pushing warm breath across my head, holy crap, that was nice.

I wanted this to last forever. I wanted to go back in time and not drink those Creamsicle margaritas, eliminating the possibility of this moment getting lost in the haze. But more important than that, I really wanted to look at Sean while he embraced me.

Just as I felt his arm loosen its hold, I tipped my chin up, forcing his head back ever so slightly so we could see each other.

His hand was still on my neck, but his thumb had moved to my jaw. This new touch drove me crazy. And considering that, plus the embrace, and the current way Sean was gazing down at me—intensely, like he was feeling something major in this moment—I saw my window.

This was it. Now to do what I came here to do.

But just as I prepared to make my move and kiss him, Sean spoke. “It’s late. I should get you home.”

I did not want to go home. Not even in the slightest. “Or, I could stay,” I suggested bravely.

Alcohol made me giggle and it gave me courage. I wasn’t sure I would’ve ever made that suggestion sober.

I was no longer regretting those Creamsicle margaritas.

Sean’s brows shot up at my proposal, then his face softened as he subtly shook his head. “Shayla,” he began. His voice was strained.

“I just have so much more I want to tell you.”

“You’ve said a lot already.”

“Not everything, though.” I slid my hands up his arms, past his broad shoulders to his neck, mouth open to say it, just say it.

“Not tonight.”

The words in my heart died on my tongue.

“What? Why?” I asked.

“You’ve said a lot, Shayla,” he repeated, slowly and firmly.

“I haven’t though. Not that much.”

“You have,” he stressed. “Trust me, you have. I’m still hearin’ it, all right?”

My lips pressed together. I understood then what he was saying.

Accepting the things I’d already told him tonight and before wasn’t easy, but Sean was trying. He wasn’t fighting me or arguing or asking me to call him “nothing.” He was hearing me and letting it all sink in.

I had a feeling, a good one, that he’d continue hearing me and everything else I planned on saying. And knowing that and considering how important Sean had become in my life, I’d respect the time he needed. I wouldn’t push him.

“Okay,” I said. “Not tonight.”

Sean’s thumb on my jaw moved the tiniest bit. My knees locked.

God, I felt that move everywhere.

“You gotta work tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes. All day. You?”

“Same.” He took a deep breath. “This ain’t a good idea.”

“What?”

“You stayin’ here.”

“You’re right.” I leaned closer. “It’s a great idea.”

The corner of his mouth lifted.

I thought about not pushing him, about respecting the time he needed, and made myself clear on one thing.

“If you really don’t want me here, you can take me home.”

Breathing loud and heavy, he stared deep into my eyes. “I haven’t laid with a woman in a long time.”

Oh, God.

I loved how he said that, and I loved that he said that. His honesty sometimes was overwhelming in the best possible way.

“Well, I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike,” I reassured him.

Deep inside his chest, he chuckled. I knew that was a good sign. I grinned up at him.

“How many drinks you have tonight?” he asked, watching my mouth.

“Three.”

“Big ones?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You gonna be hungover tomorrow?”

“It’s a possibility. I feel good now, though.”

“’Cause you’re still drunk.” He shook his head, but not in a disapproving way. Then his hand on my neck pulled off so that same hand could find my lower back, where he pressed and turned me in the direction of the hallway.

I took his lead and walked ahead.

My heart was racing. My insides were warming deliciously.

I was spending the night with Sean. I was going to lay with him and possibly cuddle.

This was a big, big deal.

Passing the girls’ bedroom first, then the bathroom, I finally made it to the room at the end of the hall, and flipped the light on overhead.

The bedroom was small and hadn’t been painted yet, but thanks to Monica, Sean had a bed frame now with a headboard and footboard instead of just a mattress on the floor, plus a wide dresser he could keep all his clothes in, freeing up the trunk he’d been using for storage. That was utilized as a nightstand now.

What he didn’t have was a comforter set or any sort of bedding whatsoever. Just a sheet laid out on the mattress, one pillow, and an old, quilted blanket that looked well used. The color was a faded patchwork.

I didn’t comment on the appearance of Sean’s bed, but I did make a mental note to ask the girls if anyone had any spare bedding they weren’t using.

I was also prepared to browse the home section at Target next time I ran out.

“You need anything?” Sean asked, moving ahead of me into the room and looking back.

“Um, just a toothbrush. I still taste like Creamsicle.”

He jerked his chin at the door. “Bathroom. I just got the one.”

“That works.” I smiled at him before turning and heading out, slipping into the bathroom.

I had absolutely zero problems using Sean’s toothbrush. Some people might find that gross. I did not. I didn’t find anything about him gross.

I quickly brushed my teeth and decided on leaving my makeup as is, since I didn’t have face wash or anything besides Dial soap handy, then after relieving myself, I turned off the light and moved back into the bedroom.

Sean was sitting on the edge of the bed, still shirtless and in his jeans, his head lowered, his hair tucked behind his ears, and his hands steepled in front of his face.

When I walked in, he looked up.

“Need anything else?” he asked.

I shook my head and smiled. I was so, so good, he had no idea. Then I walked to the bed, popped off my tall, strappy heels, and climbed on.

Sean stretched out on his back. He’d given me use of the pillow and was using his arm bent up behind him as a cushion.

Even if I had been fully drunk, I wouldn’t have allowed that.

I motioned for him to lift his head, stuck half the pillow under there, and then lay on my side with my back to the wall, facing Sean. We shared the pillow.

“You mind if I leave that light on?” he asked, talking about the small lamp on the trunk beside the bed.

The overhead light was off now.

“No. Not at all,” I told him, voice breaking with a yawn. “Do you mind if I cuddle you at some point? I’m a natural cuddler.”

Sean cut his eyes to me. “I didn’t mind it before.”

Aha. So he had been awake the other night on my couch when I’d done that. Good to know.

“Okay.” I closed my eyes on a second yawn. “Good night, Sean.”

“Night, Shayla.”

Sean dozed immediately.

Forty minutes later, I was still awake and playing with a thread on my dress while watching Sean sleep when the urge to use the bathroom again hit hard.

I carefully climbed over his legs and snuck out of the room.

After doing what I needed to and washing my hands, I grabbed my phone out of my bag and set an alarm for eight a.m., just in case Sean didn’t have one set. Then I returned to the bedroom and placed my phone on the trunk.

Standing beside the bed, I looked down at Sean.

He was still on his back, one hand on his abdomen and the other buried under the pillow. His head was turned toward me, lips parted, allowing breath to leave him slowly and quietly.

I let my eyes wander to his ink.

The low light from the lamp cast a glow over his body, illuminating areas of his skin and shadowing others.

Sean’s tattoos were still a mystery to me. I’d seen them, but not up close and not like this, where I could stare and study without him knowing.

On his upper chest were images blended beautifully together among a lot of shading. I could make out two baby footprints on one of his pecs, like you’d see on a birth certificate, and the girls’ names: Caroline and Fiona were scripted just below each of his collarbones. Woven throughout the shading were lines that didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason to them. They were thick and dark, looped down to the tops of his ribs, and reached his shoulder, ending there in a bull’s-eye swirl pattern. Below the bull’s-eye on his left upper arm was that drawing I’d noticed a couple weeks ago. I couldn’t see it too well without Sean rolling over, but I could see it enough to know I was right in my observation before—it was a stick-figure person. One like a child would draw. And I knew one of his girls had put that on him.

God, he’d gotten it permanent. That was incredibly sweet.

When my eyes swept back over Sean’s chest to study more of the ink, I noticed something. A word written in the background on the skin of his left pec, a word that was mostly hidden by handprints and shadows and the lines weaving, but it was there.

I bent down and got closer.

I saw the word—Nothing—tattooed in someone’s handwriting. Gasping, my hand flew to my mouth, and my eyes shifted, refocusing on another spot on his chest. I saw another word—Loser. Same handwriting. And another—Worthless. This one was written around the curve of his ribs.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered behind my hand.

The words were everywhere. Pain. Hate. Pathetic. Undeserving. They were hidden all over him. On the inside of his arm—the one closest to me that was bent up, and I was sure on the other one as well. I just couldn’t see it. Curving around to his back, and in the center of his chest where his heart was. I looked down to the hand resting on his stomach. On the top, spanning to his knuckles, was a tattoo of a skull with roses coming out of its eye sockets, but when I leaned closer and searched, I could see the word hidden in the shading.

Space.

“Didn’t have parents. Had a woman who didn’t want me around. That’s it. I took up space.”

I whimpered so loudly, I was shocked I didn’t wake him.

Turning away, I clamped my hand over top of my other one and pressed down as wave after wave of agony pulsed beneath my skin and sunk into my bones like a cancer. This pain was rotting, capable of tearing me apart from the inside out. It would destroy all of me, I just knew it.

I rushed out of the room before I made another sound.

The tears were instant, pouring out of me, fast and heavy. There was no stopping them. Pushing the bathroom door closed behind me, I sank to the floor in front of the toilet and sobbed into my hands. I was as far away from the door as I could get without climbing inside the shower.

Maybe I should’ve done that.

I wasn’t in there a minute before the door swung open and I’d been found, and because I didn’t want Sean knowing why I was really crying since I wasn’t ready to have this conversation with him, being in the current state I was in and feeling the unrelenting weight of my emotions ripping me apart, I lunged at the toilet and hung my head in it.

“The fuck?”

His voice hit me over the sound of my cough/sob, which was the only word I knew to describe what I was doing.

After flushing nothing but toilet water, I wiped at my mouth and lifted my head, blinking away tears so I could see him.

“I just really hate throwing up,” I whispered, then immediately began crying again, because he was standing there with those words written on his body and I was mad at myself for not finding Sean sooner so I could’ve somehow prevented him from doing that to himself.

With worry in his eyes, Sean stepped inside the bathroom and squatted down beside me. He placed his hand on my lower back. “You still got more to get out of you?” he asked.

I stared into his perfect face, belonging to this perfect man, who had overcome so much to be here.

“No, I think that’s it,” I said, crying more heavily now. “I-I’m done.”

Sean stood, grabbed the small towel off the sink and got it damp. He wiped my mouth with it. Then he set the towel aside and lifted me off the floor so I was cradled against his chest.

I buried my face in his neck and sobbed.

“Shit. You really fuckin’ hate throwing up, don’t you?”

I nodded.

I wasn’t lying. I really did hate throwing up. Typically, it didn’t upset me like this, but I was okay leading him to believe that.

Feeling the bed underneath me, I opened my eyes as Sean sat me down on the edge. I wiped a few tears away and watched him slide a small bucket out from between the trunk and the bed. He sat it beside my feet.

“Why do you have a bucket in here?” I asked him.

“Nightmares,” was all he said.

I pulled my lips between my teeth and trapped a sob inside my mouth.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

He didn’t need to say any more. He got sick just from thinking about that awful woman and the childhood he’d had. I just knew he did.

I was softly crying still when Sean lifted my feet into bed and forced me to lie back in the spot he had been asleep in.

He pulled the quilt up and around my body and tucked it in, then he climbed in himself, planting his knee in the bed below my feet and getting up beside me. He lay on his back. He gave me all the covers. He didn’t take any for himself.

“You all right?” he asked.

I nodded, swallowing down the emotion thickening my throat. Knowing I wasn’t anywhere near finished crying, especially after what Sean had just revealed to me, I turned away from him and faced the door.

So many things filled my head, but one thing was standing out over all the others. I wanted Sean knowing he belonged. That people cared for him, and wanted him around.

“Sundays are family dinner nights at Syd and Brian’s house,” I began, tears still pouring down my face, but my voice sounding steadier than it had been. “You’re invited. It’s a standing thing, no matter who can make it or not. Sometimes people bring a dish, but it’s not required. You absolutely do not have to bring a dish. Tomorrow, I obviously can’t make it and neither can you due to work, but if you’re up for it, I would really like it if you’d accompany me to the next one I’m able to attend.”

Sean was silent for a moment, then I felt the bed move behind me, and a second later, Sean’s chest was pressing up against my back. His arm draped over my waist, and he buried his nose in my hair.

I could feel his warm breath on the back of my scalp.

“Um, is that a yes?” I asked hesitantly.

I felt his head move. He’d lifted his chin.

That was a yes.

I closed my eyes and felt my body melt deeper into the mattress.

Hands folded in front of my mouth, I used my fingers to wipe my tears away, then I looked off the bed.

“Sean?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna get you to a place where you no longer need that bucket.”

His arm around my body tensed. I knew that was him hearing me again.

And since he said no more, that thought was only confirmed, and knowing Sean was accepting my promise, I was able to quietly cry myself to sleep.

The next day at work, I was trying to keep focus on all the positive things that had happened the night before, but I was having difficulty keeping my mind off those words marked into Sean’s skin.

I was also wondering while taking down an order how often he used that bucket, not that frequency would matter much to me at this point. Just the fact that Sean had a bucket in his room for when he got sick from nightmares was enough to make me want to go postal.

Never in my life had I daydreamed about torturing people before. It was all I could seem to do today, though. I’m talking Saw movie torture. I’d go all out.

“Bastards,” I mumbled.

“I’m sorry?”

I looked up from the ticket I was writing on and focused on the man seated at the booth.

Angelo—he was a young guy I’d waited on a couple times before; I recognized him. Italian. Dark hair. Always came in here wearing business attire. He smiled at me a lot and liked chatting me up whenever I came by his table to check on him.

I always got a nice tip too.

“Uh, sorry. Nothing.” I gave him a smile. “Would you like fries, coleslaw, or homemade chips with your burger?”

“The chips good?”

“Oh yeah,” I answered, and I wasn’t just saying that either. Sean’s chips were the bomb. “They got a little seasoning on them. Just the right amount of kick. Trust me.”

“All right. Chips it is.” He handed me his menu and grinned.

I smiled back. “I’ll put your order right in. Let me know if you need anything in the meantime.”

“I’ll do that.”

After sticking the menu up at the podium, I tore the ticket off my book and headed for the kitchen window, passing Tori along the way, who was training a new girl—Lauren—and looked ready to gouge her own eyes out.

At least I wasn’t the only one struggling to be a people person today.

“Cheesy crab burger and some chips,” I announced, sliding my ticket across the window to Sean, and, getting his eyes when he looked up, smiling at him.

I didn’t need to be a people person. I was still a Sean person.

“I’ve decided that when you do make me dinner, I’d like those chips on the menu,” I announced.

His eyes brightened, like he was proud of himself, and that made me seriously happy. “That right?”

“Yep. I’ll let you decide on everything else. But I’m going to be adamant about the chips. I’d eat them every night if I could.” I winked at him before turning away, grabbing a small stack of napkins and carrying it over to Angelo.

“Order’s in. It’ll be out shortly,” I told him.

A slow smile twisted across his mouth. “Thanks, Shay.”

“No problem.”

“You seeing anyone?”

His question caught me off guard, and I stumbled a little as I was turning away. “Uh…” Our eyes met. “What?”

He laughed. “Dating. Boyfriend. You got one?” Leaning back in his chair, Angelo regarded me with kind eyes, but his mouth was all trouble, and lifted flirtatiously.

I glanced back at the kitchen, saw Sean busy working and concentrating hard, then turned back to Angelo.

How to answer this…

“It’s complicated,” I settled on. “And new. Very new. Very, very new.”

Angelo chuckled. “Bad timing on my part then. I should’ve said something last month.”

I shrugged and offered him a smile.

I didn’t know how to respond. Angelo was good looking and always nice to me, but would I have been interested last month?

No. Probably not. I was in love with Sean last month…

“Well, your order will be up soon,” I repeated, not knowing what else to say. This was slightly awkward.

Angelo kept the grin he was wearing, revealing not one hint of awkwardness on his part, then he pulled out his phone when it beeped from his pocket.

Just as I turned away, Tori grabbed my elbow and hurriedly pulled me to the back of the restaurant, directly opposite the kitchen.

“What?” I whispered.

“What nothing. You need to fill me in on the details,” she said, releasing my elbow and standing to face me. “I’ve been too busy training Little Miss Zero Personality to get a moment of gossip time. Now, spill it.”

I looked over Tori’s shoulder and watched Lauren study her nails like there was some big, important, hidden message written all over them. Then I glanced at the kitchen window again.

Sean was looking at me. I waved at him before turning back to Tori.

“Oh, my God, you totally made your move,” she said, a big grin on her face. “What happened? Tell me now.”

No way was I planning on telling anyone about the words I’d seen tattooed on Sean’s skin. Or about the bucket. And since I hadn’t really made my move, I wasn’t sure there was too much to tell.

Then I remembered all those positive things I was trying to keep focus on. The memory of them filled me up inside. I instantly felt better.

“Well, I didn’t exactly get to make my move, but I did spend the night with him.”

Tori’s eyes widened. “Get out,” she whispered.

“Oh, I’m out. And it was amazing.”

“Did he hold you?”

“Yep.”

“Kiss?”

“No, but I got a legit hug out of him, and it was the best hug of my life, hands down. Plus, he sort of held my face while we were talking. His thumb was definitely on my jaw.”

Tori smiled and held up her hand.

I high-fived it.

Then both of us started giggling.

“This is awesome. When are you going to make your move, though?” she asked.

“When the time is right and when he’s ready,” I told her, and seeing confusion in Tori’s eyes, I explained. “He needs time to process. I can’t rush him. He’s been through so much, T, and it isn’t easy for him to accept any goodness put on him. His first reaction is to reject it.”

“Well, he has you now, plus he’s got his kids back. And I told Jamie to get on board and pull Stitch into the group.”

“That’s seriously cool of you, T. Thanks.”

Tori played it off with a shrug. “Stitch is in with us,” she said. “He’s got a family for life now, no matter what. We’ll take care of him.”

They would take care of him.

Hearing that, I threw my arms around her.

Dogwood Beach wasn’t full of good people. It was full of the best people.