“You’re cold,” Kellan says, misinterpreting the brief tremor rocking my body. Or maybe he’s just as eager to drop the subject.

I nod, suddenly seeing my chance to escape this situation.

Our conversation.

Him.

“I’ll take you to the living room,” he says.

“No, Kellan.”

Ignoring my half-hearted protest, he lifts me off the chair and carries me inside, only stopping when we reach the couch. Slowly, he sets me down, arranges a few cushions behind my back, and then wraps a blanket around me—the motion is so intimate, it makes me uncomfortable.

I don’t like a guy taking care of me because I fear that one moment in the future when I involuntarily let my guard down, and his guard is still up. Like any other human being, rejection doesn’t agree with me.

Kellan’s impossibly good looks aren’t the actual danger to my inner equilibrium. It’s all the small things he seems to do and not make a big deal out of. Like riding home with me and making sure I’m not freezing my ass off.

Been there. Done that. Never again.

Just like him, I have my own emotional baggage. Just like him, I’m not willing to try again.

“I’ll bring you something to drink,” Kellan says and heads out of the living room, finally leaving me enough space to breathe.

In his absence, I relax against the cushions. The sun is streaming in through the open curtains, bathing the mahogany wood in an orange glow.

There’s something strange about this room. It’s too manly, too rough. But there’s also a tenderness about it. It’s the décor, I decide. The odd female touch in the form of a delicate picture frame and an empty glass vase.

He used to live with someone. This someone is gone now.

My gaze is involuntarily drawn to the picture frame Mandy inspected last night, and the blond woman in it.

He said she was his sister. Was he telling the truth? I’m thinking of his best friend, a soldier. What were the odds that he was in a relationship with her before her death?

He didn’t say it, but I could feel the sadness radiating from him, the way was hard for him to talk. As soon as I said sorry, he closed up.

His sudden change of topic only confirmed it.

“Sorry it took so long.” Kellan places a glass on the couch table.

I didn’t hear him coming in, and so he catches me off guard. My thoughts can’t possibly be written across my forehead, and yet I feel like he can look right through me and see that I’m trying to figure him out.

“Thanks.” I grab the warm glass, eyeing the yellow liquid.

“It’s Riesling Hot Toddy,” he answers my unspoken question. “Warm white wine with honey, lemon, and cardamom. It’ll warm you.” He points to my ankle. “Is it still hurting?”

I shake my head and find that at some point the throbbing must have stopped. “No.”

“Good. You should be able to walk again in a few hours.”

“I hope so. I mean, I don’t want to impose. We’ve already overstayed our welcome.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kellan says and sits down next to me. “Like I said, I enjoy your company. It’s a nice change.”

I bury my face in my drink, forcing myself to take slow, measured sips. It tastes delicious, sweet, and refreshing.

 “Do you live here alone?” I avoid his gaze as I ask the question, afraid to give the impression that I care.

“I do.” A slight pause. “Do you live alone back in NYC?”

Just like before, he’s avoiding talking about himself. Either he’s the monosyllabic type, or he doesn’t want me to know too much about him. Either way, I find his evasive nature rude.

“I don’t.” I stare at him, unwilling to say more. If he wants to remain shrouded in mystery, then so do I.

The corners of his lips twitch. “I know. Mandy said you’ve been living together since your first day of college.”

I grimace.

What else escaped her big mouth?

“She also said that you’re starting a new position next week and that you have no time for relationships,” Kellan continues, seemingly enjoying his advantage over me.

“I never said I didn’t have time for relationships. I just don’t want one.”

He nods, like he knows exactly how I feel. “Relationship gone bad in the past?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally, I shake my head. “Nope. Not really.”

It’s a lie.

Someone hurt me—bad—but I can’t tell him that. He wouldn’t understand, not when I’m sure he’s probably broken thousands of hearts.

His brows shoot up in obvious interest. “Not eager to share?”

I shake my head again.

There’s no way in hell I’ll disclose my romantic past to someone like him. If I want to unburden myself, then I’ll listen to Taylor Swift songs to feel better about all the things that have gone wrong in my life.

“I’m a good listener.” Kellan leans forward, elbows propped on his knees, as though his physical proximity could prove his point.

I frown at his sudden interest. “Why do you even want to know?”

“Because I like to know about my competition.”

A simple statement. Just like that, he seems to think about competition.

I laugh. “I doubt Kellan Boyd knows what competition is.”

“You’re right. I don’t usually have competition.” He hesitates, which gives me the opportunity to regard him intently, trying hard to read the sudden shadow crossing his features. His green gaze seems a shade darker. Troubled. And determined.

I clear my throat and look away when his fingers clasp my chin, forcing my eyes back to him. “I’m not afraid of competition, Ava.”

“I never believed you were.”

“Good. I won’t make a secret out of the fact that I always get the woman I want. You won’t be the exception, Ava.”

His monumental ego is back.

I open my mouth, then close it at the way his mouth seems to draw closer to me.

My breath is caged in my chest, waiting, expecting, fearing that one moment when his lips will crash down on mine.

The world around us seems to stand still while my head becomes a big void of nothingness, my senses straining to tune into him. He’s so close. I can smell him. I can see the way the light reflects in his irises, splitting it into different shades of green—all beautiful, all breathtaking.

“You’re different,” he whispers.

“How so?”

“I don’t know. Just different.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“I don’t know, either. Is not wanting me a bad thing?”

“You tell me.” I cock my head, a smile tugging at my lips. “After all, you’re the one with the long list of conquests.”

“None of them matter,” Kellan says. “None of them get my attention like you do.” He glances at me. “There’s something about you that drives me crazy.”

“I believe it’s called rejection.” His eyebrows rise, so I feel the need to clarify. “I rejected you, and now you think you have to conquer me.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s more than that. I want you. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before. I just can’t explain it…I can’t explain you.”

My breath hitches, stolen by his words. When did things take this turn? One moment he’s flirting with me, the next he’s saying something like this. I’m not sure that I like the change.

“What are you saying?” I whisper, my voice shaking.

“I’m saying…” He hesitates. “I want to know more about you. I want to know what makes you tick. And—” he pauses again, his eyes glued to my lips “—I want to kiss you. To know if your lips are as soft as they seem.”

All air swishes out of my lungs, as though it’s just been knocked out of me. He’s waiting for my permission, I realize. “Is that a good idea?”

“Only one way to find out.”

His hand moves to the back of my nape, pulling me softly to him, and then his mouth meets mine in a slow, delicious kiss. Even though his lips barely brush mine, the electric jolt running through me is all-consuming. My nerve endings are on fire. My whole body is.

He holds me like no other. His kiss is balm for my soul.

The tip of his tongue slips between my lips, and I moan against his mouth, the sound lost between us. He tastes manly and minty, his hot breath burning me from the inside. The picture of those lips on my nipples appears before my eyes—those lips traveling down my abdomen, kissing me. My fingers are trembling as they brush the front of his shirt, the open palm of my hand settling on his lower ribcage. His warmth is seeping through the thin material, searing me.

I want to push my hand underneath his clothes to feel skin against skin. To taste him the way I want him to taste me. But I don’t do any of those things.

Because this one kiss is already my undoing.

His lips are doing unthinkable things to me, creating feelings I have never had before. They remind me of a summer breeze, soft and warm; of a winter tale that mesmerizes and entrances; of the wings of a thousand butterflies, light and soundless, as they flutter around.

I wish I could stop this one moment, capture it, because I know it won’t last.

Because a guy like him doesn’t stay in a woman’s life. He breezes through and leaves only havoc behind.

I press my lips against him, over and over again, letting his tongue meet mine in a slow dance. And then I can feel his hand traveling up my inner thigh.

A delicious jolt travels through my clitoris and moisture pools between my legs, readying me for what he has to offer. Only, I’m not sure if I’m ready.

I squeeze my legs shut, but the friction only manages to intensify the want inside me.

Too soon, Kellan pries his lips away from mine, his hand withdrawing from my body.

I open my eyes and find him staring at me. He’s just as breathless as I am. His eyes are dark, full of desire. His gaze is penetrating every layer of me, reaching my core. “I’m not a patient man, Ava. But I can wait if something’s worth waiting for.”

“Don’t do this.” My voice is shaking as I push him away and stand, disgusted at just how desperate this man makes me. I have to get away, but where could I possibly head without appearing like I’m running from him?

His fingers brush the back of my arm, and my breath catches in my throat.

“You sound upset. I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Coming from someone like him, his apology takes me by surprise. I want to tell him that there’s no need to apologize. That I enjoyed kissing him. But I can’t. I’ve been hurt so often that opening up is not an option. I brush my fingertips over my lips. They’re still tingling, reminding me of how good it felt to have his mouth against mine. They remind me that his presence does something to me. My resolve is crumbling. I fear he’ll pull me to him and I’ll give in, just because I miss the intimacy of having another body against mine, inside me.

It’s been too long.

The attraction I feel for him reminds me of that.

I can feel the shift inside my head.

It’s not like I haven’t hooked up with guys before.

It’s not like I want him to put a ring on that finger.

I’m available. He’s available. Except, is he? Who’s the blond woman in the picture on the fireplace? Why don’t I believe that she’s his sister?

Because he won’t elaborate.

Because the one man I loved in the past lied to me. Told me the same bullshit story.

“Ava?” Kellan’s voice is a deliciously hoarse rumble.

What’s the harm indeed?

I’m not a cheater—that’s the harm. I won’t do to others what others have done to me.

“I was in love with someone,” I whisper at last.

The words are out before I can stop them.

My reply has his instant attention. His shoulders tense; his whole body does.

“He cheated,” I continue as I glance up at him. “He was my first love. My first in everything. I gave him my whole heart, and he broke it.” I take in Kellan’s face, expecting nonchalance, but there’s nothing nonchalant about his expression. “Now you know why I reject you. It’s because I won’t go through something like that again,” I say. “I’m sorry. It’s not personal. It’s not you. It’s me. I’m so sick of guys who play with your emotions. I won’t ever get hurt again.”

“I had no idea.”

I shrug and turn my back to him. “It’s okay.”

“Do you want me to beat him up? I’m good at it.”

His question takes me by surprise. “You would do that?”

“Give me his address and I’ll get it done.” He smirks. “Actually, I don’t even need his address. His name will do.”

I let out a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

He returns my smile. “You might want to say it one more time and see what happens.”

I sigh and touch his hand, squeezing it gently. It feels so good, rough, as if life has shaped him, too. “No, thank you. But I do appreciate the offer.”

“You sure?” He cocks one eyebrow. “You’re not saying that because you have pity on him?”

“It’s over. Definitely. I’ve moved past him. To be honest, I’m not even sure what I saw in that guy. It’s definitely a good thing we’re over.”

Kellan’s hand moves up to my face and I hold my breath, excited at the prospect that he’ll kiss me again. But he doesn’t. “I don’t know who he is, but he’s damn stupid for letting a beautiful woman like you go. It’s his loss.”

And then he withdraws his hand and gets up, his focus turning to the window. “It’s about to start raining again. I have to get the horses in.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help you with the farm work. Is there something else I can help you with?” I ask.

He runs his fingers through his hair and then shakes his head. His expression is casual, his eyes two dark pools of emotions I cannot read.

He’s unperturbed.

Whatever our kiss did to me, I’m not sure it had the same effect on him. Or maybe he’s so good at hiding it because he does it so often.

The thought stings, but I didn’t expect anything else from him. He’s made it pretty clear that he doesn’t date. He only ever fucks.

At least he’s honest—unlike my ex.

“You need to rest now. You’ll be okay to walk in a few hours,” Kellan remarks. “I’ll be back this evening.”

He glances at me one more time before heading out. For a moment, I stare at the empty space he just occupied, wondering how I could possibly learn to read a guy who’s a closed book.