Grueling.

It was a word. One that she’d chisel into every bumper she’d stared at for the last three hours of the drive into Vegas. The trip from Chicago to Vegas was brutal anyway. The GPS lied like a fourteen-year-old with their first hangover.

Three-day drive her ass. It had been stretched to nearly four. Thank God they’d left the morning after the Keith show. Her liver still hadn’t forgiven her for the moonshine. It actually hurt.

It was probably all in her head, but seriously, the pang lived on. As did the cotton mouth. And she had a tension headache that she could only partially blame on the drive.

No, it was more about those purple mountains in the distance.

She curled her fingers tighter around the steering wheel. Five years should have been long enough for her to get her head together about Vegas. Then why was her belly seizing like she hadn’t eaten in seventeen days?

Because he was there.

No. No, Marco wasn’t there anymore.

Ghosts lived in Vegas.

If nothing else, she kept tabs on him. Well, as much as she could without tipping him off as to where she’d gone. But it was amazing what a Google search could bring up. Especially when her ex had climbed the ranks to become one of the most notorious men in New York City.

This was not New York.

Hell, she hadn’t been nearly as freaked out in Manhattan. But then again, her life had changed here, not in New York. And her zen at the Keith show about putting it all behind her had lasted that night and into the next day when she’d climbed back on the bus. Knowing all the while she was driving them to the place where her world had imploded.

A green sign came into view.

100 Miles to Vegas.

Her heart slammed harder until there was nothing but white noise around her. The blare of a horn snapped her back into the moment. To the road and the fact that she was fucking driving.

Goddammit.

She dragged in a breath and forced herself to blow it out in a slow exhale. She was responsible for lives on this bus, and those around her on the road. The next sign for an exit came up and she immediately hit her signal to move over. A Mexican restaurant. Shocker. Arizona was nothing but national chain restaurants and spicy food, but it would have to do.

She wasn’t fit to be on the road at the moment. She needed to get her damn head on straight. This trip wasn’t about her. It was about the band. They were up for a big award and Ryan didn’t need her being a headcase.

There was nothing to worry about. She was getting worked up because she hadn’t been back since she’d—

No.

Not going there.

She stepped on the brake harder than she meant to and the bus shuddered and there was a yelp from the living area behind her. “Sorry,” she called over her shoulder.

“What the fuck, Denver?” Mal roared from the back of the bus.

She winced.

“What did you do, piss yourself?” West quipped.

She tightened her fingers until they squeaked around the wide wheel. “I’m making a quick stop for food. I’m getting jittery.”

“Aren’t we close to Vegas?” Lauren popped her head through her partition.

“Still have an hour to get near Vegas, then the traffic inside…eh. Easier to eat out here.”

Lauren shrugged. “I’m up for Mexican.”

“Good thing.” Ryan came up beside Denver and tugged on her ponytail. “And this one probably drank a gallon of tea.”

Denver bent her lips in a smile because that was what she should do. “Maybe.”

She pulled into the wide, sloping parking lot of the restaurant. It was dusk and the lights of the sign above the wind-battered building buzzed with a flickering pink neon. The O in Carolina’s was out and the L was on its way, but man, it smelled heavenly.

Denver popped open the door and took the stairs at more of a run than she cared to admit.

“Have to go that bad, Colorado?” Ryan jogged up next to her.

“Kinda.”

“Well, I’ve been sucking down Gatorades myself.” He frowned at her. “All good?”

“Yeah. Of course.” She tugged on the hem of his shirt. “Just been a bear of a drive.

He nodded. “All right. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Meet you outside after?”

She nodded. “Don’t forget to wash your hands.”

He grinned and ran backwards. “Always.”

Her smile slid away the moment he was gone. She crossed her arms along her middle and headed for the bathroom. She really did have to go. And for a restroom in a restaurant off the highway, it wasn’t terrible.

She finished up and washed her hands, then splashed water on her face. No wonder Ryan asked her if she was feeling okay. Her eyes were huge and had circles under them. Ugh.

And since she didn’t wear makeup unless it was absolutely necessary, she knew it wasn’t raccoon eyes.

She blotted a wet paper towel along her neck and inside the neckline of her shirt. Five minutes out of the bus and she was dry and dusty as hell. The arid climate made her want to dive into a vat of lotion, but she settled for the tiny tube she kept in her jacket pocket.

The honey scent centered her, as did the natural routine. When she opened the door, she found Ryan lounging against the wall flicking through his phone. His long legs were crossed at the ankles and his jeans were just tight enough to remind her of all the glorious muscles—all of them—that were underneath the denim.

The way he made her feel. The way he emptied her mind of all the chaos she’d lived with so damn long. There was no denying Ryan had been good for her in ways she’d never dreamed possible.

Right now, she needed that quiet.

She glanced through the doorway to the huge round booth holding all of her friends. No, not even just friends. They were her family. More so than her flesh-and-blood family had ever been.

Even Mal, as horrifying as that was.

She swung her attention back to Ryan and her stomach flipped as he peered up from his phone. His curls were a little smashed and frizzed from being in his bunk. And she was pretty sure there was a faint seam across his cheek from his pillowcase.

She crossed the hall and dragged him down to her mouth. He made a startled grunting sound, then hissed out a breath as she palmed his cock.

“Colorado,” he said against her mouth.

“I—you. I need you. Now.”

“Here?” His eyebrows shot up.

She jerked down his zipper far enough to get her hand into the hole and fisted him. “I can’t…” She blew out a shaky breath. “I need it. You filling me up. The way you did that first night. In the Hummingbird. I’m so tired of thinking.” She covered his mouth when she felt the questions bubbling up inside him.

He liked to take his time. He loved to wind her up and hold her down until there was nothing but a blackness where pleasure ruled her head. Such a blessed quiet in that bliss.

She craved that right now.

She dragged him toward the bathrooms, but a woman rushed down the hall. Denver didn’t think too hard about what she was doing. That they could be caught or even worse, get tossed out of the damn restaurant.

Nothing mattered but that momentary peak.

She shuffled him farther down the hallway. A door was labeled storage and the knob gave when she tried it. Good enough. She dragged him inside, pushing his jeans down enough for her to get a full hold on him.

“Den. Holy fuck.”

As she went down into a crouch, a huge bag of rice bumped her shin. There were ventilation slats in the door letting in the dim yellowed light from the hall. “Hold the door,” she said, and then he was in her mouth.

Fuck, yes.

Filling her mouth and down as she took him deeper. Her vision blurred as the darkness took over. Shards of light seared across his lips and the scruff of his jawline. Enough that she saw what she needed. His gritted teeth and the bounce of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

She dragged her tongue along the underside of his cock and swirled around the head just as she knew he liked. She took him again and again, until veins and ridges bloomed under her lips. Until he was so tight, she knew she had him where she needed him.

Blind hunger thrummed between them and it activated his rough touch. The one she craved in the dark recesses of her mind. Places she didn’t understand, but instinctively trusted him to handle.

He wrapped her ponytail around his palm and dragged her head back until she had no choice but to look up at him. She couldn’t see his eyes. Not really. Just a glittering within the darkness.

Pieces that matched her own.

Pieces she’d never believed she would ever want.

She pushed thoughts of the past away. Ryan could dispel those ghosts. He was exactly what she needed.

Always would be.

She moaned around his length. He tipped her head back to feed his shaft deeper into her throat, until there was nothing but him and the surge of panic that came just before the quiet.

He pulled her off his cock and up until she was on her toes as he slanted his mouth across hers. Wetness and the salt of his pre-cum swirled into their kiss.

Instead of pulling back, he went and chased the taste. His other hand dug into her stretchy jeans, pushing into the low-rise denim that hugged her hips.

Her zipper popped and his fingers were there. Fuck, yes. Inside her, pushing. Invading. Stretching.

She tried to groan out a scream, but he swallowed it. His kiss just as desperate as his touch.

Her shoulder slammed into the rack along the side wall before he spun her around and drew her hands up over her head.

“Hold on.” His voice was little more than a hoarse rumble of sound.

She shivered and pushed back on him as he dragged her jeans down over her ass. He crouched behind her and his tongue delved deep into her pussy.

With one hand, she reached back for his hair.

“Did I say you could move your hands?”

Her fingers slid through his curls for a moment longer before she replaced her grip on the metal. She tightened her grip with each pass from his tongue, each flick across her swollen lips, each sandpapery-rough swipe across her pucker.

She panted out a harsh groan as she went onto her toes, trying to give him more access, but her jeans were barely down past her thighs. “Please.”

He dragged his teeth over one cheek of her ass before the bloom of a slap warmed her skin. “Please what?”

“Please.” He tucked two fingers inside her and she let her head fall forward. “More. I need you. More.” Her voice was little more than a helpless sigh.

He stood and thrust his fingers even deeper. His thumb brushed over her asshole and pushed past the ring of muscle. “I’m going to take this ass one day. I’m going to be inside every part of you until you don’t remember anything but me. When you sit in the driver’s seat on our bus, you’ll remember how I stretched you until there weren’t any words. Just your screams.”

She couldn’t even throw out her usual quips about him shutting up. Because she wanted that. The burn frayed the edges of her crazy and settled everything until her world balanced. “Yes.”

The snick of latex was her only warning. Then it was him.

Just him.

He arrowed his cock inside her without mercy before he stretched up over her and covered her hands. His much larger hands dwarfed hers, his grip tight until their fingers were laced around the metal frame of the shelving unit. Cans rattled and a box tipped over as he slammed into her again and again.

As his cock rammed into her with enough force to drive her onto her toes.

And she loved it.

Craved it.

He angled his chin against her neck to rest against her shoulder as his long, lean body covered every part of her. She was surrounded inside and out until she broke into so many colors and pieces, she could do nothing but rest her head against his chest as his breath labored in her ear.

As his deep groans reverberated through her back and synced up to hers.

Her body was strung tight and her breath lodged in her chest as the dark room went to utter black and her knees buckled.

He released one of her hands and his arm went around her waist. He was so damn tall that his forearm went completely across her belly and his hand cupped her hip.

She couldn’t stop shaking. Thighs, arms, even her breath. She tried to drag in oxygen, but there was only Ryan’s spice and the combined scents of them. It left her dizzy and at peace at the same time.

“Den?”

“Hmm?”

“Is everything all right?”

Some of the peace seeped out of her. “Yes. Why?”

“You just don’t…” His words drifted into a strangled laugh. “Well, you don’t drag me into strange places for sex. That’s usually my move.”

“Can’t a girl take the initiative?” She swallowed hard as he slid out of her, the echo of his stretching cock leaving her lost again. “You didn’t like it?”

“I just came my damn brains out. I’m fairly sure I lost about twenty IQ points with that orgasm.”

Keep it light. Don’t let him know you’re cracking. “You don’t have enough to lose, buddy.”

“Cute.” He turned her in his arms, his mouth gentle now that their storm had blown out like an Atlantic nor’easter. “I didn’t mean to be so rough. Though somehow I get the feeling you went right for every button I have to push me there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” He brushed his nose along hers. “It’s okay to want this. What happens between us.” He brushed his lower lip lightly over hers. “I know what you need, Colorado. I love it just as much. And I’ve never found this with anyone else.”

Her heart raced and she pushed at him. “Ry. Not here. Not with the scent of refried beans coming in through the vents.”

He laughed. “All right. I’ll give you that. Shitty timing. But I want you to know I’ll be whatever you need. Even if it’s this, and even if it’s just a quiet night binging on Friends episodes. But I don’t want it to be just this. We aren’t just scratching an itch.”

He stepped back and his phone torchlight flooded the space.

She held up her hand and slammed her eyes shut. “Don’t ruin it, for God’s sake.”

He laughed, and the sound of paper rustling then the coarse brush of cheap napkins crinkled between them before she heard his zipper.

She squinted, prepared to be blinded, but his light was trained much lower and his groan made her heart thump and twist in her chest.

“You’re drenched.”

She swallowed and dragged her jeans back up.

“No. No, wait.” He slipped his hand between her legs before she could get the denim in place. “Fuck, Colorado. I knew you needed it, but baby, are you sure everything’s okay?”

She pushed his hand away. “Just because I wanted to get fucked?”

He lifted the same hand to her face, gripping her chin. Not hard, but definitely with no room for her to move. “Don’t do that.”

She dragged in a sharp breath at their combined scents on his hand. Hot, carnal, and so unique to them.

“Yeah, you caught that, right? You, still slick on my hand, my fingers, my cock. And yes, I know you needed me. Needed this.” He leaned in and when she tried to jerk her head away, he simply held her there. The kiss was soft and sweet, as opposed to the flash of anger in his eyes.

He didn’t close them. His gaze was steady in the dim light as he gently rubbed his lips over hers until her shoulders relaxed and her heart stopped screaming inside her chest to run—to push the emotions away once more.

His fingers slid down to her neck, then down the front of her. He cupped her breast lightly. Not to make her burn, but just to touch her. To soothe.

To freaking handle her.

And she let him because, God, it felt good to lean on someone. Just for a second. Just until she felt more like herself instead of the scared girl who ran away from Vegas five years ago.

Until she was just Denver.

His Colorado.

“I’m okay now,” she said against his chest. She didn’t even realize she’d melted into him until his spicy scent bled into her senses and she could hear his heart under her ear.

He tucked his chin on top of her head and wrapped his arms around her shoulders in that caveman way of his. The way she loved more than she ever wanted to admit.

She turned her face into the center of his chest and took one last breath before wiggling for freedom.

A banging fist rattled the door and they both jumped apart.

“If you’re done boning in there, we’d like to get back on the road.”

“Oh, God.” Had to be Mal. Out of all of them, it had to be him.

Ryan laughed and palmed her ass with a disappointed groan. “Got your jeans back on? Dammit.”

She laughed and pushed him away. “You are a jerk.” She zipped her jeans the rest of the way and opened the door enough to peek out.

Lauren was standing toe to toe with Mal at the end of the hall, her hands on her hips. “Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

His eyes were hidden by mirrored aviator sunglasses. “My mother was more worried about spa appointments.”

Lauren’s lips softened and she dropped her hands to her sides. “Oh. Mine preferred a lecture hall.”

Mal’s eyebrow spiked, but he didn’t say another word.

Lauren’s attention went from the overbearing Mal to Denver. She waved. “Sorry about that.”

Denver pressed her forehead into the edge of the door. Discretion was a fifty-cent word she couldn’t buy today.

“What? We all need a quickie now and then. I can get it whenever I want. You have to drive.”

Ryan pushed Denver through the door and into the hallway. “Thanks, Lo. You’re all heart.”

West hurried to Lauren’s side. “Don’t mind her.” He glanced down at her with a tight smile. “She didn’t mean to shout that across a family restaurant.”

Lauren’s eyes went really wide and she slapped her hands over her mouth.

Denver laughed as Ryan shoved her down the tiled hallway into the group of friends who had become her family. She bore the brunt of their teasing as everyone loaded back onto the bus because she couldn’t deny what they’d been doing.

That, and she loved seeing the easy smile on Ryan’s face.

Eating should have sated the beasts who lived on her bus, but the closer they got to Vegas, the more gregarious they got. Mal and West were barking orders at Alexa to play ridiculous songs from the seventies, then the nineties. Lauren and Jules started chiming in with Bell Biv DeVoe songs. Everyone was having fun.

Except her.

By the time the final signs for Vegas came into view, Denver’s gut was a hot mess again. Every time she thought she’d gotten a handle on her fear and her memories, they came rearing back.

There might as well have been a switch in her brain screaming turn back. But she couldn’t do that, because this was her job.

She took a swig of her iced tea. Normally her watermelon mint—yes, she was mildly obsessed—did the trick. Ryan fed her addiction, finding crazy teas for her to make.

And there it was, more Ryan in her brain. More Ryan infiltrating every piece of her life. Okay, so tea wasn’t that big of a deal. Except for the fact her entire life fit in a battered backpack and hardback suitcase, so tea was one of the few things she allowed herself to indulge in.

He’d even moved in on that.

Oh, and she couldn’t forget the heart part. Because she was terrified that walking away from him was going to be nearly impossible.

She pushed her hair out of her face and fisted her shaking fingers before curling them around the steering wheel. Traffic took all of her concentration as she fought her way through the main drag. Tourists crawling down the street because they were oohing and ahhing over the lights of this palace of neon in the desert. Busses full of people hoping to win big. And of course the pedestrian traffic, which was a mix of frenetic regulars bustling into the next shop or casino, and the tourists with their cameras, out snapping memories.

By the time she pulled into the parking structure for the hotel, her shoulders were tight and her head was throbbing.

The band filed out and were in full play mode. She tried to put on a smile, but Ryan came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “Okay?”

Shocker, he’d figured out she was wound up again. There was something to be said for men who were clueless. She had to get involved with an attentive one.

She patted his hand. “Just shitty drivers and pedestrians. Give me the open road any day.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Well, let’s go upstairs to my hotel room and I’ll give you a nice long massage.”

She felt the first real smile tug at her lips in hours. “Yeah?”

They were alone now, and he turned her seat to face him, crouching in front of her. “I know something’s eating you. Not just a long day of travel.”

She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his. “Maybe we can talk about it upstairs.”

He slipped his fingers into her hair at the base of her skull and rubbed. “Fair enough.”

Before her eyeballs could cross, she pushed him away. “Keep that up and I’ll be out like a light.”

“No way. I have plans for you.”

She cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb across his scruffy cheek. “Are you shaving this for tomorrow?”

He itched his throat where the stubble climbed into his shirt. “I think my mom would skin me if I didn’t.”

“Really?”

He grinned. “Yeah. But I’ll wait to do it until after tonight.” He dragged his knuckle down the side of her neck. “I like leaving my marks on you.”

She shivered. There was nothing quite like the buzz and burn all over her skin when Ryan was through with her. She stood up. “Yeah, I’m ready to go.”

He laughed and stood with her before lowering his mouth to hers. The kiss didn’t spin out like it usually did. It was achingly perfect and sweet. So much so that her eyes welled up behind her lids. When he pulled back, she ducked her head quickly and went down the stairs before he could see the tears she had to dash away.

He caught her hand and dragged her back to his side as they went through the parking garage to the entrance of the casino. As soon as the large angel statue in the foyer came into view, her stomach plummeted.

Vegas.

In all its glory.

Ryan’s grip tightened on her hand as his eyes whirled to all of the stations in the casino. Baccarat, blackjack, slots, and the all-important poker tables reached as far as the eye could see.

Her shoulders tightened instantly. “Ryan.”

He swung his gaze to hers. “I’ve been in a casino before, Colorado. I’m not jonesing.”

“They why are there huge heart bubbles in your eyes?”

“Everyone with half a brain cell wants to try their luck. Especially when you know the tricks I do.” He laughed. “Don’t give me that death ray.” He tapped his inner elbow. “I promise I’m not an addict.” He shook her arm with their clasped hands. “Did I make a mistake in New York? Yes. I got in over my head. I was winning and I got cocky.”

“Cocky enough to get yourself hurt. Actually, more like stomped on by big burly dudes.”

“No need to remind me.”

She released a breath as her heart raced. “I think maybe I do. Pit bosses here would make your run-in with those guys look like a tickle party.”

He tipped his head and curled his arm around her back until they were face to face and their thighs bumped. “And how do you know so much?”

Her heartbeat throbbed between her ears. “I just do.” A year of flying back and forth between Vegas and New York gave her a lot of knowledge. How many times had she come in here with him? How many times had she seen the darker side of Vegas?

Just once in all its twisted glory, when Marco’s mask had finally fallen away.

Before then, she hadn’t wanted to see the grime beneath the glitz, so she’d rationalized the ominous things she’d seen. The secret conversations, the veiled threats, the shady accomplices. Until she couldn’t anymore.

“I think it’s more than that.”

She shook off the memories. “I just worry about you. I can’t help it. What if I hadn’t come around that night?”

He pulled her closer. “I would have woken up and called someone.”

“Me?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly like the idea of you in that alley, but yeah, I would have called you or Mikey.”

She pressed her free hand against his chest, her fingers curling into his faded Metallica shirt. “I don’t want you in that position again. I couldn’t take losing you like that.”

“You won’t. I swear it.”

He didn’t know the shit she brought to the table. Who she’d been when she was with Marco. How blinded she’d been by the lifestyle he’d shown her. And worst of all, how far and fast she’d run once she’d figured out how unhinged he could be. Her former lover just happened to work for the Andrettis, a notorious mob family with businesses in both New York and Vegas.

Marco had been making a name for himself within the family when they’d met. By the time she’d seen the full breadth of his possessive tendencies, it had been too late.

God, she’d been so stupid. On so many levels.

She’d cut people off for so long, but pushing Ryan away wasn’t an option anymore. It was as if she were missing an appendage when he wasn’t around.

He drew her past the elevators. “Let’s go check in. I’m tired of sharing you with anyone, even strangers.”

She shivered and nodded. Too many eyes with too many memories around her. It had been years. Ghosts didn’t seem to care how many days it had been. Eighteen-hundred-sixty-four days to be exact—give or take.

Five years should be enough time for Marco to forget about her. She had to believe that.

Hell, maybe the things he’d said to her—the threats couched as not-so-playful admonitions—had just been smoke and mirrors. Maybe he’d moved on right after she’d split town.

She could hope. Hope was free, if not in plentiful supply.

Ryan led her to a huge gilded desk with a smiling man behind the semi-circular counter. “Welcome. Do you have a reservation?”

Ryan nodded and gave his information. Because everything about Ripper Records ran like a well-oiled machine, it took barely five minutes to produce their key cards and a room number. A room with a very high number.

She had to hand it to Donovan Lewis. He didn’t skimp when it came to the important things. And tomorrow was huge for these guys. She had to remember this entire trip was about them, and not her baggage.

When the elevator opened to an empty car, Ryan hauled her inside and pinned her to the wall Fifty Shades of Grey style. They’d watched the movie in the dead of night in her bunk one night. He’d made fun of it the entire time, but the elevator scene?

Yeah, it was memorable.

And even better with Ryan holding her arms up above her head until she had to go onto her toes with the stretch. “I want you to come to the awards ceremony with me.”

“What?” Confusion dented the rush of sexy-times hormones that had finally pushed away the buzzy fear.

“I’m tired of pretending you aren’t the most important person in my life. I want you beside me tomorrow night. Hell, Colorado, I want you beside me—”

“Don’t you say it.” Panic rose up and nearly choked her, but she got the words out. The elevator chimed and the doors opened. She wiggled free and across the threshold with Ryan on her heels.

“Dammit, Denver.” He huffed behind her. “Go right.”

She veered down the hallway and followed his instructions to the correct room number. She waited beside the door as he jammed the card into the slot a few times before it beeped with a green light. He held the door open for her and she skirted by him.

He tossed the card on the table inside the door and flicked the lights on. Their bags had already been delivered to the room, and sat on a bench at the end of the lake-size bed that dominated the space. She gasped at the window looking out onto the strip. The view of the endless lights and eerie, inky blackness swarmed her brain. Memories of rooms just like this with him—with Marco—overlapped with the excitement of being with Ryan.

She pressed her fingers to the window.

He came up behind her. “Please just talk to me, Den.”

“Obviously, you’ve figured out that I have baggage.”

“We all do.”

She huffed out a harsh laugh. “Did yours require a name change to run away from?”

His arms came around her waist and he tucked his chin against her neck. He was always so present and patient. So much more than she deserved.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

She slid her palm along the corded strength of his forearm. The soft golden hairs that sprinkled across the top then the smooth skin along his wrist teased the pads of her fingertips. “It was a long time ago. I was a different girl. A frightened one who didn’t know how to handle the things I needed.”

“Things I can give you.” His voice was low in her ear.

“Yes.” She lifted her hand to his cheek.

He turned his face to kiss the inside of her wrist. “I’ll always give you what you need, Colorado.”

“I know. I knew from that night in the Hummingbird. I didn’t want to admit it. I’ve been running from that side of me for years, Ry.”

He tightened his hold. “Did someone hurt you?”

She nodded. “Yes, but probably not the way you’re thinking. I’d been with some guys before him, but he was different. Older. Established. He showed me so many things I’d never known before, as clichéd as it sounds.”

Ryan’s breath whistled out between his teeth. “Then he took it too far?”

“Not the sex. Not exactly.” She dropped her forehead to the cool glass. God, trying to navigate what had happened was hard enough in her own head. Trying to tell someone else—to tell the most vital someone else—was nearly impossible.

“He didn’t have a normal job. The people he knew, some of them weren’t aboveboard. A lot of them weren’t. And when I noticed too much, he found ways of shutting me down.” As Ryan tensed, she shifted in his arms. “He never hurt me physically, I swear.”

Ryan didn’t reply.

“God, it’s all in the past. But sometimes I can’t help remembering.”

“Because of me. Because of us, what we do.”

The pain in Ryan’s voice had her gripping his biceps. “No. We’re separate. We’re so different. I’ve loved everything we’ve shared. But with—”

She couldn’t quite spit it out. Marco’s name had become so huge in her head. For God’s sake, his name was on par with Voldemort from Harry Potter. And she knew it was her own fault for letting him become so big.

So very important.

She was so tired of Marco taking everything from her, even now.

“Being with him grew too overwhelming for me,” she said, knowing she was copping out and unable to stop it. Even saying this felt like too much, and she couldn’t breathe. “I was a mess, Ry. I dropped out of college. I just ran. Donovan helped me get away. Helped me start over.”

“Donovan? Why?”

Swallowing deeply, she cupped Ryan’s jaw. It was time to face some of her demons. “Donovan is my uncle.”