“Troy?” I asked, a little more than an hour into the second movie of the evening. He was still behind me, one arm wrapped protectively over my side. All night he’d been erect, his cock pressed against my ass, but he hadn’t done anything to address it.

“Yes?”

“I’m bored.” I set my phone down and closed my eyes, more tired than I’d realized. Over the last few hours, I’d unwound from the stress of the day, and I was feeling it big time. “I think I’ve been in bed long enough now that I’m not at risk of getting back up to keep cleaning. If you want, you can go. I promise I’ll go right to sleep.”

Troy hummed against the back of my neck and shifted his weight. He pressed his lips to my shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” I pushed gently back against him, finding myself craving more of his touch. It shouldn’t have felt so good, and I shouldn’t have wanted it so much. Troy was a temporary pleasure—it wasn’t like I wanted him to stick around.

“I’m not sure that I believe you, Mr. Mills,” he said playfully, invoking my last name to make a point. “What was it you said about your genes?”

“My genes are tired as shit,” I replied. “And so is the rest of me. I promise, I’m not going to be cleaning by candlelight. Right now, all I can think of is falling asleep.”

Troy made a small, contented noise, but otherwise didn’t reply. The silence gave me time to think. Since Dad had died, I’d always been working on something. Whether it was studying my ass off about everything I could about business, heading to Vegas to go to school and start a company with Monty, or putting my brain to work counting cards so I could afford Mom’s ridiculously expensive chemo sessions and the ensuing surgery, I’d never taken time to stop and be myself. I was only twenty-two, but if I kept it up, I was going to be old and frail by the time I was thirty.

Maybe Troy was right. Maybe I should take things down a notch.

Damn him for being insightful.

“Do you still want me to go?” Troy asked after a long silence.

A voice in the back of my mind, the same one that urged me to remember that Troy was a client and nothing more, told me it would be better to tell him to go. My body and my heart, however, begged me to let him stay. How long had it been since I’d had someone to hold me when I wasn’t feeling well? Someone to take the pressure off, even if it was only for a little while? Troy was there for me—he cared—and that was enough to make me change my mind. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you can stay.”

“Why can’t you believe it?” Troy asked.

I rolled my eyes back and resisted a smile. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because I never thought I’d be inviting the man who humiliated me three years ago to stay in bed with me.”

“There was a reason I did that, you know.”

“Is that so?” I tapped on my phone screen to pause the movie we'd been watching. While the volume wasn't maxed, the background noise was distracting, and I wanted to hear what Troy had to say. “What reason could you, a man who makes millions of dollars a day, have to shout at someone like me, who walked away with, what, fifty thousand dollars over the course of two weeks? Maybe even less than that?”

“I knew your ID was fake,” Troy admitted. “You were just a kid, not even old enough to legally gamble yet. I thought that if you had a bad enough experience, you'd call it quits. I didn't want you to end up in trouble you couldn't get out of.”

I wanted to reply, but I struggled to piece together what to say. All these years, I'd only seen the situation from my perspective. Troy had always been the ignorant, snappy bastard who'd wronged me without cause. All of the other casinos on and off the Strip had escorted me off the premises and politely informed me that if I returned, I'd be trespassing, and would be arrested. That was it. But Troy? He was the asshole who'd screamed in my face, who'd threatened me, and who'd put on such a show that I'd never forgotten it.

To think that he'd meant to help me back then, even if his attempts had been misguided…

I exhaled slowly, letting myself depressurize.

“Do you know why I was counting cards and hopping casino to casino?” I asked at last.

“No.”

“My brother and I had just spent the remainder of our inheritance on our startup and college tuition. Mom, who hadn't worked in almost two decades, had just started work in retail when she got sick. Really sick.” The memory stung, especially after how ill I'd felt earlier that day. “We'd lost our insurance after Dad passed, and the coverage she had at work wouldn't kick in until the six-month mark, and even then, it was shitty at best. But it turned out that didn't matter, because by the time they figured out what was wrong, she'd already been let go from her job. It turned out she had cancer, and we had no way to afford treatment. I dropped out of college and signed over my share of the company to Monty so I could find a way to make the money she needed to get better. Card counting was the only way I could make the money we needed in time to get her the treatment that would save her life.”

Troy said nothing, but he didn't need to speak to express his guilt. It hung in the air between us, thick and uncomfortable.

“She's okay,” I told him, hoping it would help him feel better. “I raised the money I needed to, then went home and took care of her while she went through chemo and surgery. It was hard for a while, but she was a warrior, and she got through. She's been in remission for months now, getting stronger by the day, and I left her with enough money to make sure she can get by. So, just so you know, I wasn't some teenage punk beating the system just because I could—I did what I had to in order to save my family. I'm sure you would have done the same.”

Troy's arm tightened around me. He pressed a kiss against the back of my neck. “I didn't know.”

“Of course you didn’t.” I snorted. “It's not like I rolled into the pit, slid into a chair at the blackjack table, and announced my mom had cancer. Just… everyone has their story, you know? Even the bratty kid with the big brain taking a chunk out of your profit one discreet sum at a time.”

“If I'd have known—”

“Don't.” I took hold of his hand and traced his knuckles one by one with my thumb. I didn't want to dwell on the past. While there were always lessons to be learned from what came before, right now, all I wanted to do was look forward to the future. Mom was better, Rent-a-Dom was successful, and Monty was happy with his station in life. After so long spent caring for others and living selflessly, I was free to be me, and I was happy, too. “Tomorrow is a brighter day, right? I'll feel better, we'll get back to work, and it'll be just like it was before. I'm not any different than I was a few minutes ago, you know—you just know more about where I'm coming from.”

“And a little bit more about how to take you to where you want to be.”

I turned my head to look over my shoulder, but Troy was lying in such a way that I couldn't see him. Still, the tone of his voice got to me. It had been so tender and sweet, like my path was one he wanted to share with me. I'd never had someone speak to me like that before, and it weakened me to him that much more.

I wasn't supposed to be feeling this way—I’d come here to punish him and satisfy my need for revenge. But when he held me like this, and spoke words that sank straight into my heart…

“Stay tonight,” I murmured. “I'm not up for sex, so don't expect any, but…”

Troy chuckled. “I'm not here for sex. I'm here for you.”

The sentiment behind those words was impossible to fake—Troy meant it.

“Troy…”

“You should get some sleep,” Troy said softly. He rolled out of bed and headed for the door. “I need to wash up, but I’ll be back soon. If you fall asleep before I get back, goodnight, Robin. Thank you for sharing tonight with me.”

My heart was fuller than I ever recalled it being. Burdened with feeling, I managed a meager, “Goodnight.”

I didn’t fall asleep by the time Troy returned, fresh from the shower and mouth minty clean. I didn’t fall asleep after he climbed into bed beside me and drew me delicately into his arms, either. There was too much to think, to process, and to feel.

I was falling for Troy Sullivan.

Monty was going to laugh his fucking ass off when he found out.