We’re halfway to Boylston before he says anything. “Are you cold?” When I don’t answer, he reaches out and adjusts the heater vents, aiming one of them at me more directly. “Sorry. I don’t have seat warmers.”

It doesn’t sound like a snipe. It sounds like a genuine apology. Like he’s really sorry for something I couldn’t care less about.

“Why do you think I give a shit about seat warmers?” I snap at him, reaching for the vent he pointed at me to slap it closed.

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re comfortable.” Again, he sounds genuine. Confused, like he doesn’t understand why I’m upset. When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “I’m trying here, Henley.”

I don’t have to ask him what he means. I know. I understand. He’s trying to give me what I want. Trying to figure me out. Be the person he thinks I want him to be. The problem is what I want and what I can have are two different things.

“You want to tell me what happened tonight?” he says, his tone casual. Easy. Like the past thirty minutes didn’t happen. Like he didn’t just have me naked. Pinned against the sinks in a bar bathroom, his fingers and mouth caressing my slick, tender flesh. Making me come so hard and loud everyone in the place probably heard me. It’s what he does. How he deals. He pretends none of it matters.

I have the irrational urge to jump out of the car.

When I don’t answer he elaborates. “With Declan and Tess—why she was half-naked, all up on some college bro’s jock.”

Tess.

He’s asking about Tess.

“I’m not really sure.” I shrug. “We were at my place getting chocolate-wasted and she suddenly decided she wanted to go to Gilroy’s.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” I shift my gaze toward him. He’s looking straight ahead. “We got dressed up and went to Gilroy’s.”

“Okay.” I watch his jaw clench like I’m holding out on him somehow.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me.” Yes, I do, I just don’t want to tell him. I want to believe it’s because Tess is my friend and I don’t want to throw her under the bus but that’s not why. It’s the fact that he’s asking me about her. Because he cares about her. Worries about her.

What did you expect? She’s been there for him. She stuck around. She doesn’t treat him like her own personal sex toy. She loves him and isn’t afraid to let people know it.

“Okay.” I take a deep breath and start from the beginning. “Declan saw her talking to some guy and he lost it. I needed help diffusing the situation. I went to go find you but when I got to the bar, Logan told me—” My throat suddenly goes dry and I have to swallow hard to clear it. “He told me the last time he saw you, you were heading for the bathroom with a girl you’re your shoulder.”

His jaw tightens again. “So, you naturally assumed that I was on my way to the ladies to bend someone over the sink.”

Hearing him say it shames me all over again. “Well, I just—”

“Expected to catch me fucking someone else.” I watch his hands tighten around the steering wheel. His jaw goes tight again, flexing against the clench and grind of his teeth. “I realize I’m a walking trash pile with loose morals and questionable intentions, but I made you a promise, Henley and I intend to honor it.”

“Don’t say things like that.” The resignation in his voice kills me because I know I put it there. I did this to him. “You’re not trash. I never thought that you were—”

“You offered to pay me for sex, Henley, and seemed surprised when I didn’t jump all over it like a monkey on a cupcake.” It comes out around a harsh laugh and he shakes his head. “Tell me again how you don’t think I’m trash.”

“That’s not…” I shake my head, mortified. “I never—” I stop talking, seeing the situation through his eyes. “Offering you money was never something I meant to do.” I aim my gaze out the window. Watch the warm of my breath puffs against the cold glass. “You were turning me down all over again and I—” Tried to buy you like a pair of shoes? Pay you like hired help? Bribe you into wanting you. “allowed my impulsivity get the better of me.”

“Impulsivity?” He laughs at me. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Look at things from my perspective.” I’m trying to remain calm. Still trying to think rationally. “You haven’t touched me in weeks. You’re not drinking. You’re not fighting and you’re not—”

“A gibbering idiot?”

“You haven’t touched me in weeks.” I yell it this time, the loud bark of my voice bouncing around the interior of the car. “You—” Goddamn it. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I assumed that meant you moved on.”

“Moved on?” He laughs at me. “Seriously? Have you heard a single, goddamned word I’ve said to you, ever?”

“You seem fine.” I hate that it makes me feel unwanted. Unneeded. That his lack of mental collapse makes me angry. “You haven’t touched me in weeks and you seem fine.

“I am fine… because I don’t need to fuck you, Henley.” He slumps in his seat, rubs a rough hand over his face. “I never did. I just need you. To see you. Talk to you. Be with you. It’s all I’ve ever needed.”

I try to wrap my head around what he’s telling me. As usual, I’ve having a hard time understanding him. “But a few months ago, you—”

“Lost my shit.” Nothing about his face has changed but I can tell he’s embarrassed about what happened. How he behaved. What he made me do. “You and I hadn’t said a word to each other in two weeks.”

He’s right. We barely looked at each other, but he still felt compelled to keep his promise of no drinking and no other women. I feel my stomach drop as the implication of what he’s telling me dawns on me. “So, the physical aspects of our relationship were for my benefit, not yours.”

He laughs again, making a left-hand turn into the parking lot of my building. Baseball season is over, and the streets are quiet. The parking lot only half full. “Don’t get it twisted, sweetheart.” He eases the car up to the front of my building and brakes. “I never needed to fuck you—but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”

“I’m sorry, Conner.” I keep saying it. Keep doing and saying things to him that warrant the sentiment, but I don’t know what else to say.

“Do you want to know how many women I’ve been with?” I can feel him looking at me, watching my reaction. “I can tell you if you want me to because I remember every single one of them and not one of them mattered. I didn’t feel anything while I was fucking them except relief when it was finally over.”

I asked him that once. Demanded to know how many girls he’d been with, angry and hateful, because none of them were me. “No.” I shake my head, not because I’m afraid of what he’ll tell me be but because it doesn’t matter. “I never thought you weren’t good enough for me…” He looks at me, and even though every instinct I have is screaming at me to look away, I meet his gaze and hold it. “It’s always been the other way around. “I never wanted you to look at me and feel ashamed or embarrassed. I never wanted to look at you and know you felt that way.”

His face changes. Softens. “Ask me how many women I’ve kissed since the first time I kissed you.”

My door is pulled open by the valet on duty and his hand appears to help me out of the car. “How many?” I can feel the valet behind me. Listening to every word. Seeing everything. For the first time, in as long as I can remember, I don’t care. I don’t care who sees. Who knows I’m in love with him. “How many women have you kissed.”

“Only one,” he says quietly. “Only you.”

I can see it on his face, as clear as day.

He’s telling me the truth.

“I think it’s one of the reasons I resisted it for so long.” He gives me a sad smile. “I kissed a lot of girls before you, Henley, and not one of them mattered. I think I knew that kissing you would be different. That it would ruin me, and I was right. The thought of putting my mouth on someone else, letting them put their mouth on me… I can’t think about it, much less do it.” He winces, like he hates himself for saying it out loud. “I know how that sounds. Like I’m—”

“Come up with me.”

As soon as I say it, his jaw goes tight. His eyes go dark. Blank. He thinks it’s like last time. That I want him, but I don’t want people to see us together.

I shake my head when he opens his mouth to refuse me. “I want you to get out of the car and give your keys to the valet. I want you to walk through the lobby with me.” I don’t think about what I’m asking. What it means. What will happen tomorrow. All I care about is now. The way his face relaxes when he realizes what I’m saying. What I’m asking for. That right now, in this moment, I’m choosing him. “That’s what I want, Conner. Yes or no.”

A slow smile spreads over his face, so real the shift of it catches my breath. “Are you sure?”

I shake my head. “No.” I’m suddenly terrified of what happens next. What will happen when people see us together. What they’ll think. The only thing that scares me more is knowing that if I let him drive away, it’ll be over. It’ll be the end of us. “No, I’m not. But I want you to say yes anyway.”