Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Go away,” I whine from the comfort of my bed.  

“They’ll leave if you don’t answer,” Preston grumbles, his voice thick with sleep.  

Yawning, I shove the covers off me. “What if it’s an emergency?”

He grunts and rolls over. “Then they’ll chop your door down with an axe.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I grab a sweatshirt out of my drawer and put it on. “Considering it’s probably my landlord, I doubt it.”

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Grimacing, I exit my bedroom and pad toward the incessant knocking. “Hold on, Mr. Jenkins.” I move the bookshelf out of my way and open what’s left of my front door. “Hey…” My face falls when I see who it is. “Guys.”  

My friends have impeccable timing.  

Three very alarmed faces stare back at me.

“What happened to your door?”

“Did someone break into your apartment?”

“Why didn’t you call me? Are you okay?”    

I look at Picasso for help, but he’s too focused on whatever’s in the brown bag Landon’s holding.

“I’m okay,” I assure them. “No one broke into my apartment.”

Although technically—that’s pretty much exactly what Preston did.

Breslin studies me. “Then what happened to your door?”

I start to explain, but the universe must need some entertainment this morning, because out of nowhere Reggie appears.   

My eyes widen when I look at him. “That’s one hell of a shiner. What happened?”

He clears his throat and his gaze drifts to something behind me. “That happened.”

“Told you not to answer the door,” a shirtless Preston says dryly. The pajama pants I found for him are slung dangerously low on his hips and I try not to notice the razor-sharp V cuts above his groin when he runs a hand down his lower abs. “Got any food? I’m starving.”

Landon shrugs. “I brought bagels.”

Asher opens his mouth to object, but Preston takes the bag. “Sweet.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “Why did you punch Reggie?”

“Reginald,” Reggie corrects with a sigh.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was back?” This from Asher.

“Did Preston break into your apartment?” Breslin asks, ice in her tone.

I shake my head. “No—”

“Yes.” Preston takes a bite of his bagel and winks. “I also played a few rounds of poker with Kit’s grandmother.” He jerks his chin at Reggie. “Punched that guy.” He slaps my ass and squeezes. “And took a shower with my wife.” His face goes slack. “Anything else you’d like to know? Like the last time I beat off? Perhaps how my last bowel movement went?”

When no one says a word, he stalks off toward the kitchen.

Everyone looks at me, mouths agape.

“We showered with our clothes on,” I whisper.  

I make a mental note to follow up on him playing poker with my nanna…and tell him that what we do in private is no one’s business.

Reggie clears his throat for the tenth time in five minutes. “As much as I’d love to stand here and partake in this delightful conversation, I’m here on official business.” He holds up a key. “You can start moving your stuff in today. However, the contractors haven’t finished the renovations yet. They’ll be there this week.”

Anger courses through my limbs. “I told her I didn’t want any renovations.”

“They’ve already started.”

I rub my temples. “I’m leaving for New York on Monday. I won’t be there to supervise them.”

And by supervise—I mean make sure they don’t fuck up my parents’ home.

He smooths his tie. “That’s precisely why she asked them to come back then.”

My tongue finds my cheek. “Why am I not surprised?”

His eyes fix on Preston who’s munching on his bagel at the kitchen counter. “You can always ask your husband to stay and watch them.”

I take the key out of his hand. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.” He lifts a finger. “Although she did mention something about making an appointment with the gyn—”

“I have my own doctor,” I grit through my teeth.   

Not that I’ll be seeing her anytime soon.

“Very well.”

He leaves a moment later and everyone’s eyes swivel to me.

“Anyone else starting to feel like Kit’s apartment is some kind of black hole that causes events to happen and people to appear so fast you can’t keep up?” Asher questions.

“Yup.” It’s not the hint of resentment in Breslin’s voice that makes my chest hurt, it’s the sadness in her eyes.

“Technically that would be the opposite of a black hole,” Landon chimes in. “Black holes make things disappear.”

Asher grins. “That was such a nerd response.” The smile falls from his face when he looks at his brother. “I’m glad he’s back. And since I want him to stay, we—I should probably go.”

I glance between Preston and my friends. I feel like I’ve reached a fork in the road and my heart is being split down the middle.

“Wait,” I say when they start to leave. “I could use some help moving…if you guys don’t mind.”

“Are you sure your husband is okay with that?” Breslin snaps.

“As long as your boyfriend doesn’t try to talk to me, I’ll be fine,” Preston bites back.

The flash of hopefulness on Asher’s face echoes exactly what I’m thinking.

It’s not much, but it’s a start.

Landon and Asher walk into the kitchen, but I reach for Breslin’s hand. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you, Kit.” She drills holes into the back of Preston’s head with her eyes. “I’m scared.”

That makes two of us.

“Is that the last box?”

I give Landon a thumbs up. “All systems go. I’ll meet you guys at the house.”

“After we stop for food,” Asher gripes. “Someone ate my bagels.”

Beside me, Preston smiles. “I forgot to thank you for breakfast, Landon. The bagels were spectacular.”

Landon shakes his head and peels out of the parking lot.

I close the trunk of my car. “Exactly how many meals is it going to take before you start talking to him again?”

His expression goes flat. “Zero.”

“Why?”

He plucks my car keys out of my hand. “We’re not talking about this.”

“Then let’s talk about how you played poker with my nanna and punched her assistant in the face.” I lunge for my keys. “Why are you taking my car keys?”

He holds them up in the air out of my reach. “Because you drive like a woman.”

“I am a woman.”

He slides into the driver’s seat. “Precisely my point.”

I climb into the passenger seat and scowl. “Misogynistic bastard.”

He shifts the car into drive. “Hardly. Trust me, I love women.”

“You love to fuck them.”

His lips twitch. “That too.”

I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised I don’t see my brain. “There’s a huge difference between fucking women and respecting them.”

The groove in his forehead deepens. “If it makes you feel better, I’m an equal opportunist. I don’t respect anyone. Men or women.”

I balk at him. “You don’t respect me?”

His warm hand fastens onto my thigh. “You’re an exception.”

“Does that mean you respect your brother? He’s one of your exceptions.”

His jaw hardens. “I used to respect Asher.” He gives me the side-eye. “We’re not talking about this.”

Huffing, I plug the address into the GPS, so he knows where he’s going. When he gives me a look, I say, “You have no idea where the house is.” I raise my chin. “Considering men never ask for directions, I figured I’d do us both a favor.”

He gives my thigh a little squeeze. “Misandrous brat.”

“Am not.” I sink against the seat. “I hate when you do that.”

The ass grins. “I know.”

Since he’s going to call me on my shit, it’s only fair I call him on his. “Can you tell me why you were playing poker with my nanna last night?”

We come to a stop at a traffic light. “It wasn’t because I wanted to.”

When I gesture for him to keep going he says, “She found me at the casino.” The lines of his face pinch. “Her and her butler.”

A slew of questions pummels through my brain like rapid fire. I start with the most important one. “Is that where you were for the past two days? The casino?”

Asher told me he got a hold of his mom, but she said Preston wasn’t with her. I wanted to ask Preston where he ended up going, but I was too afraid I’d upset him, and he’d leave again.

Being around him is like walking on eggshells…or nails, depending on the day. One wrong move and he shuts down completely. Or worse—he’s gone like the wind.

He grips the steering wheel, causing the prominent veins in his forearms to bulge. “Is that a problem for you?”

No, but it’s obviously yours.

I pick an imaginary piece of lint off my clothes. I don’t want to argue or make him feel like I’m judging him, so I proceed with caution. “We searched every casino in the tri-state area after you left.”

Maybe once it seeps in that he legitimately has people who care about him, he’ll be willing to seek help.

He falls silent, causing a sharp ache to my heart.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, changing the subject so he’ll talk again. “Did she say anything to you?”

“No. The woman can’t speak, remember?”

I make a strangled sound in my throat. My patience with him is wearing thin. “Can you be a little less evasive please?”

“She asked me how much money you were paying me to marry you.”

Panic spirals through me so fast I feel lightheaded. “What!” I press a hand to my stomach. She knows the jig is up. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her our prenuptial agreement was none of her business.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. As much as I hate to admit it, Preston handled that way better than I would have. “Thank you.” I look at him. “Did anything else happen?”

For the tiniest of moments, his expression falters before it evens out. “No.”

I can’t let it go without calling him on his bluff. “You told me you never lied to me, remember?”

He slams on the brakes when he almost hits the car in front of us. “Yeah, Bishop. I remember.” Like the flip of a switch his expression changes to one I can’t decipher. “She offered me double what you did to marry you if I stayed in town."

Oh, wow. His admission makes my heart physically hurt and I clutch my chest. I don’t know whether I want to break down and cry, or open his door and shove him into oncoming traffic.

I thought he came back because he cared.

“Look at me.” His tone is too serious to ignore and when I do he says, “I didn’t take it. I told her to go fuck herself.”

My head feels heavy as I process what he’s telling me. “You didn’t take it?”

“No. The only money in my pocket is the three grand I won fair and square last night.”

My eyes burn. “I can’t believe you turned her down.”

It’s no secret gambling and money go hand in hand.

He hitches a shoulder in a shrug. “Wasn’t her money to offer.” His jaw flexes. “And that’s exactly what I told her.”

I should probably scold him for not sticking to the plan and pissing her off, but I just don’t have the heart to. I’m grateful he came to my defense. “How did punching Reggie factor into all this?”

“They chased me out of the casino and he made the unfortunate mistake of attempting to stop me from going back inside.”

“Is it bad that I wish I was there to witness it?”

His teeth catch his lower lip. “Fucker went down like a sack of potatoes. He even squealed.”  

I laugh so hard tears leak out the corner of my eyes. I feel awful that Reggie got hurt, but it’s kind of hysterical that he thought he could take Preston.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, I enjoyed it.”

“I meant thank you for not taking the money.” I brush a strand of hair off my face. “And thank you for not lying to me. I might not always like what you have to say, but your honesty means a lot to me, Preston.”  

I thread my fingers through his and I feel the pulse in his wrist jump.

His mouth parts in surprise as we drive up to the bridge. “I didn’t plan this.”

“I know. In fact, you should have never been able to drive to the bridge that night. It’s private property.” He stops driving and I swallow hard. “This bridge leads to my parents’ home.” A breath shudders out of me and I fold my arms around my waist. “I should have told you, it was stupid of me not to, I just didn’t…I didn’t want you to think I was even more of a freak.”

He shifts in his seat and cups my face with both hands. “You’re not a freak.”

“How many other people hang out on the bridge where their parents’ died?”

He studies my face for so long I fidget. “I only know one. But she’s not a freak.” His thumb strokes my cheek. “She’s beautiful.” He tips my chin. “And unique.” He kisses my forehead. “She’s so imperfectly perfect she still takes my breath away.”

It’s downright mystifying how Preston always seems to know exactly what I need when the pain starts creeping in.

I inch closer, bridging the distance between us. Unlike last night, this kiss is tender and sweet. His lips are soft and soothing. Comfort and solace.

And the arms that wrap around me feel like home.