We don't leave until after midnight. I'm exhausted, my stomach is rumbling, and my feet are dying from these heels.

But none of that matters.

Because Walker is wrapping his arms around me. He's leaning in to press his soft lips to mine.

He sucks on my bottom lip.

I dig my fingers into his cotton t-shirt as I pull back with a sigh.

He brushes a hair behind my ear. His eyes stay glued to mine. They promise satisfaction. Affection. Love.

He slides his hand over my ass.

I lean into his touch. This makes sense. This is something I understand. And it's simple. I want him. He wants me. We make each other come.

It's perfect.

He leans in to whisper in my ear. "It's too far to my place."

"Mine is farther."

He rocks his hips, pinning me to the wall outside of Inked Hearts.

Mmm. His body feels so good against mine.

I'm tempted to fuck him right here, on this semi-busy Venice Beach street in the middle of the night.

Really, really tempted.

"Ahem." Someone clears their throat.

Walker turns to the noise. It's Dean.

He motions to the shop. "There's a perfectly good back room."

"Ryan will kill me," Walker says.

"Hey Iris. How you doing?" Dean asks.

"Uh…" Breathless. "Good."

He chuckles. "I bet." He motions to the other side of the street. "I'm gonna get a drink. You're not invited."

Walker laughs. "Wasn't gonna come."

"Damn. That's self-restraint." Dean's earlier don't break my friend's heart warning is gone. He's just friendly… ish.

Walker turns back to me. He brings his hand to my hip. Pulls my body into his as he pushes me against the wall.

It's incredibly hot.

I stare back into his dark eyes. "Your place. Now."

His nod is needy. He steps backward, takes my hand, guides me to his parking spot around the corner.

I climb inside. Click my seatbelt. Press my knees together.

It does nothing to stop the heat pooling in my sex.

I need him.

Not just his hands, and his lips, and his cock.

Him.

It's scary how much I need him.

When did this happen? How?

His eyes meet mine as he slides into the car. His smile spreads over his cheeks.

It's a beautiful smile.

It does things to me.

Makes my knees knock together. My stomach flutter. My heart thud against my chest.

"I…" Words form and dissolve on my tongue. How do I say this? I like you is too plain. But I don't love him yet. I could. One day. And maybe I will. But not yet.

"You…" He arches a brow. Clicks his seatbelt. Slides his keys into his car and turns them.

"I had a good time." I want this to be a real thing. More than fun. More than casual. I want to tell you about my past. To explain every single mistake. To show you all my ugly parts.

"Not too much shit from Dean?"

"Just a little. He's protective of you. It's sweet."

"He's an idiot."

"That too." But I understand. Dean doesn't want Walker getting hurt. I don't either. I… I really, really like him.

He turns back to the window, hits his left blinker, pulls onto the street.

I turn on the radio. Commercial on KROQ. Shitty auto-tuned pop song on KYSR. Even more horrible one on KIIS—the local Top 40 station. "You listen to KIIS?"

"Fuck no. Must have been Emma."

"You give her a lot of rides?"

"She had a phase where she was pissed at Brendon." He points to the aux cable. "You can play some coffee shop shit."

"When you put it that way…"

"Some beautiful, mellow jams that make you want to fall asleep."

I laugh. He's teasing me in that I like you way.

We pull onto Ocean. It's only five minutes now. But that's too long.

I dig through my purse, pull out my cell, connect it to the aux cable. I pick my most mellow coffee shop song.

Walker laughs as it flows from the speakers. "This your preferred soundtrack?"

"For studying?"

"For fucking."

Oh. "I've never listened to music before. Have you?"

"Yeah."

"Metallica?"

"No." He laughs. "That breathy, sexy shit."

"You like that?"

"Sometimes."

"You want to put something on when we get home?"

"Dunno. What are we doing at home?"

"Playing Scrabble."

His laugh fills the car. "I concede."

"You go down that easy?"

His voice drops. "Fuck yeah."

My breath catches in my throat. "Do you want to play music after Scrabble?"

"No. I don't. I want to hear every single moan that falls off your lips."

Mmm. Yes. Please. Now.

My limbs get light. Electricity flows through me, from my fingertips all the way to my toes.

I want him so badly.

I like him so much.

I need this to work okay, for him to want me too, for him to accept the Iris who's still struggling to believe she's not her mistakes.

The girl who made all those mistakes.

"I, uh…" I press my lips together. I want to tell him.

My thoughts dissolve as his fingers brush my inner thigh.

"You, uh…" He drags his fingers higher. Under my dress.

Over my panties.

Fuck.

What was I thinking?

Something important.

But it couldn't possibly have been as important as this.

"You okay, sweetness?" He rubs me over my panties.

My response is a groan.

Why am I wearing underwear?

Why do I even wear clothes?

I should live naked in his apartment.

We should be naked in his apartment forever.

Away from all the ugly things in the rest of the world.

He stops at the next light. Montana. "You there?"

I nod. "Can't think."

He chuckles. "Same thing happens to me when all my blood is in my cock."

"How are you so coherent?"

"Practice." He looks back to the street. Strokes me with that thumb. He moves it higher. Higher. "You look fucking amazing, sweetness?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. I thought about bending you over the counter, rolling that skirt to your waist, and fucking that gorgeous ass."

My cheeks flush. I… uh…

"You want to?"

"Yeah." The words fall off my lips. I… I do? No. I do. A lot. The idea never appealed with Ross, but with Walker… "Tonight?"

"No. I need to feel your cunt around me tonight."

I… uh… "You're doing this on purpose."

His lips curl into a smile. "Yeah." He rubs harder. Harder.

Almost.

The light turns green. He taps the gas. We move forward.

One more street and we turn right. A few more and we turn left. Right. Left. I lean against the seat, arch my back, let a moan fall off my lips.

The car slows to a stop. It turns off.

I stare into Walker's dark eyes. They're filled with desire, yeah, but that's not the most inviting thing about them.

It's the affection.

He undoes his seatbelt. I grab mine and kick the door open. My movements get fast. Reckless.

He clicks the lock. Wraps his arms around me. Pins me against the underground garage wall and kisses me hard.

Fuck, he's hard.

And I want that.

"Not here." I bring my hand to his hair to pull his head away. "Need a bed."

He nods and steps backward.

Our path to his front door is messy. Every few steps, we stop to kiss. To tug at clothes. To pant and groan and express everything except our feelings.

Finally, he slides his key into the door and turns the handle.

He whisks me inside and pins me against the door.

But we're not alone.

There's a woman here.

She's tall and thin, with long dark hair and the same dark eyes as Walker.

And she's…

No.

He pulls back to follow my gaze. "Fuck. Bree, what the fuck?"

Bree. His sister.

I… I've seen her at NA.

His sister is a drug addict.

And she knows I'm an addict.

And he…

Fuck.