My eyes were burning, my entire body aching like one giant cramp. I was hunched over at my desk in the downstairs office, the room only slightly illuminated by the yellowish light of the desk lamp. In front of me were several stacks of files and folders in varying heights and levels of organization.

The folders put together by Penelope were pretty easily distinguishable from the ones I compiled. As usual, Pen’s stacks looked like the work of an obsessive-compulsive genius with a mental filing system to rival a spreadsheet, while mine were much more haphazard. The ramblings of a madman, really. It all made sense to me when I looked at it, but I knew my work had to look absolutely illegible and ridiculous to others.

“Still not too difficult for Rodney to have sifted through my laptop and found that damning evidence, though,” I groaned aloud. I sighed, raking my fingers back through my dark, thick hair. I was exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. This case was weighing on me so heavily, and while I knew some of that could be attributed to the intensity of the case itself and the importance of winning it to advance my career, I knew that wasn’t all it was. The main reason this case had me so worked up and out of my mind was because Rodney Barrington was at the center of it, just like he was at the center of my thoughts right now.

It was maddening. I had thought once I graduated Harvard and moved away home to Vegas, I would be able to leave him and his treachery far behind. And for a long time, that had been true. Things went smoothly for a while, thank God. And yes, everything got a little hairy when Dad ran off with Tiffany and got disbarred, but I had managed to get by without him pretty well.

I had finally begun to believe in myself for real, not just as an outward display of bravado. It wasn’t just fake ego—I had finally learned what it felt like to be actually, truly confident in my abilities. And then, from the second I saw Rodney’s handsome, annoyingly smug face across the crowded convention hall, my carefully-constructed world had been tumbling down around me. He was the hurricane that had come barreling in out of nowhere, throwing my life into disarray and pure chaos. He was the wrench in my plans, the broken cog in the machine.

And despite how angry I was, how hurt and betrayed I felt, I mostly just kind of missed him. I missed his roguish smile, his perfect hair, his intense, captivating stare. I wanted to look at him across a table at a candlelit dinner, not across a tense courtroom. Even though I knew now that all his supposed kindness and attraction to me was just a contrived effort to bring my guard down and throw me under the bus once again, I couldn’t help but cling to the tiny shred of hope that maybe, just maybe, it was more than that. Maybe Rod really did have feelings for me that went beyond a healthy competitive rivalry.

“Fuck, I must be the loneliest, most pathetic man in existence,” I sighed, rolling my eyes up to the ceiling. Here I was, distracted from my work, fantasizing about the very man who had ruined my life and jeopardized my career twice now. The first time, back in college, I could have maybe chalked up to some lingering immaturity. The hubris of a young man who would stop at nothing to beat down the competition, even if it meant stooping to deception and backstabbing. But now? We were both too old and too grown up to engage in such childish, unjust trickery, right? Or maybe I was just too square and too set in my ways to do what needed to be done.

If I were smart, I would turn on him the way he turned on me. But it was hard, pushing aside those blooming emotions that endeared him to me despite everything.

I glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was nearly midnight, and I was a wreck. I kept trying to read the same sentences over and over again, my brain too tired to compute the information in front of me in bold type. Even Penelope’s neatly annotated notes were not enough to keep my focus straight, as my mind wandered backward to the image of Rod’s face, twisted in an expression of pure rapture and pleasure as he came inside me. My body remembered too distinctly the sensation of his powerful hands on my skin, his lips on mine, his muscles coursing and pulsing as he fucked me and carried us both closer and closer to the edge of insanity.

Our sweaty, frantic shared moment in the back seat of his SUV was seared into my mind forever, now mocking me for my stupidity and my inability to see the deception in his actions. I should have known he would go to the ends of the earth to trick me and get what he wanted. Rod Barrington had fucked me in more ways than one, and here I was, still enraptured by the thought of him. He had won the battle, and with that confidential information he had just revealed in court, it looked as though he was going to win the war, too.

I turned my eyes back to the notes in front of me, blinking back my exhaustion and willing my brain to focus on the highlighted sections on the page when suddenly I was jolted by the shrill sound of the phone ringing. Instinctively I reached for my work phone, but then realized with a frown that it was my personal cell that was ringing. I picked it up and slid the screen open, confused as to who would be calling my personal number this late at night.

“Hello?” I grunted sleepily.

“Hudson! My boy! How’s it shakin’, kid?” my father’s jovial voice boomed through the receiver. He was so loud that I held the phone an inch or two away from my ear, grimacing.

“I’m alright, Dad. But you know it’s almost midnight here, right?” I groaned.

“Burning the midnight oil, I see. That’s my boy. The Bulldog, hard at work! You know, you’re more like your father than you even know,” he chuckled proudly, though I knew well enough by now that the pride was in himself rather than in me. My successes were just an extension of his own in his mind.

“Yeah. Sure. So, what’s the reason for your call?” I asked, trying to keep the annoyance in my tone to a minimum.

“Just wanted to check in on you, of course. I hired this new publicist, Lisa, she’s a real doll, and she’s been filling me in on your, uh, escapades in court lately,” he said. My heart sank. Ah. There it was. He was calling to berate me, under the guise of a friendly social call.

“Uh huh. And she’s told you… everything, then?” I sighed.

“Just about! And wow, Hudson, some of these details are pretty hard to hear, eh? That Rodney Barrington character has you all twisted up,” my father scolded. “I thought you were tougher than that, kid. If you can’t take down a flamboyant pretty boy like him, then you must not be the man I thought you were. No son of mine should lose to a guy like that, I’ll tell ya.”

I bristled with anger. My impulse was to defend Rod, but I knew there was no point. My father was not an understanding man. Arguing with him was like trying to debate a brick wall. So, I simply decided to lean in and get it over with. “Sure, Dad. I’m trying. I’ll work it out,” I said.

“Good man! Of course, you will. I have full faith in your abilities, son,” he declared, totally unconvincingly. I heard high-pitched female laughter in the background, which I assumed had to be Tiffany.

“Sounds like you’re a little busy. I should let you go,” I said emphatically.

“Right, right. Yes. I’m about to head out on a yacht for some fishing,” he gloated.

“Yeah. Sounds fun. Have a good time. I’ll talk to you later, Dad,” I replied.

“Oh, I will. Enjoy your evening, son. And remember, the North name and reputation rests on your shoulders, so don’t go easy on Mr. Barrington just because he’s a—”

“Yep. Got it. Bye,” I interrupted, hanging up, turning it off, and slamming the phone down on the desk. I rested my face in my hands, too overcome with frustration to think straight. I knew there was no point in trying to get any work done now. My focus was shot and I was too fatigued. I heaved a sigh and got up to go upstairs and get ready for bed. I hoped that this time I would actually sleep. God knows I needed it badly.

I stripped off, then walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I looked haggard in the mirror, my eyes rimmed with pink and my jaw shadowy with stubble. Man, I needed some sleep.

But just as I was crawling into bed at long last, I heard a violent thumping at my door. I frowned in confusion. It was past midnight now, and there was no reason why anyone should be at my door. It was a gated community, so it could only be someone who had been here before. I waited, thinking maybe someone just had the wrong address. But then, moments later, the knocking resumed, even louder this time. I groaned in exasperation and headed back downstairs to sleepily answer the door. I pulled it open and my eyes went wide as I saw who was there.

Rodney Barrington. Looking utterly haunted, like there was something massive on his mind that he just couldn’t handle. I had to fight the urge to pinch myself and test whether I was dreaming. But then he spoke.

“I sent you a bunch of text messages. Why aren’t you answering?” he demanded.

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused. Then it dawned on me. “Oh. I turned my phone off. That’s why.”

“You’re an attorney who turns his phone off at night?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I stiffened and crossed my arms over my chest. “Not usually. Just tonight.”

“Well, anyway, I’m here now and we need to talk,” he insisted.

“Yeah, sure we do. Because our little chats have proven so helpful to me thus far,” I retorted sarcastically. He glared.

“I’m serious, Hud. Please. Can I come in?” he implored.

“Is this how you always play it? You’re hot, then cold, then hot, then cold. You think you can just bat your eyelashes and get what you want after screwing me over?” I spat.

“Look,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I messed up, Hud. Just let me in so I can explain myself, okay?”

“Damn right, you messed up,” I said coldly.

He looked at me with those big blue eyes pleading and said softly, “I was in the wrong. I-I want to make amends.”

I scrutinized him for a few moments, then relented. “Fine. Come in.”

“Thank you,” he said, sounding relieved as he stepped inside and I closed the door behind him. But as soon as I did, I whipped around ready to lay into him.

“I know you’re here to talk, but you’re going to listen first,” I began, glaring daggers at him. “I know your game now, Rod. I know how you work. I can’t trust you. You’re just the same backstabbing, self-absorbed asshole you were back in college. You may act all apologetic, like you want to reconcile, but I’m not buying it. Not this time.”

“Hud—”

“No. Don’t even try it,” I snapped. “You treat everyone around you like a stepping stone to success. You only care about yourself, and you’re willing to throw anyone and everyone under the bus to get what you want. I’m sick of it.”

He got defensive, his hands curling into fists. “Oh, like you’re so innocent! Pretending to be into me and then disappearing right after we sleep together. I know how you function, too, Hud. I know you used me as your little stress relief ball. Just give me a squeeze, use me to relieve your pent-up tension, then run off with no explanation. Like it meant nothing at all to you. Is that what you did in college, too? Just fuck all those guys but refuse to date them because you’re too uptight to let actual, genuine emotions take over?”

I scoffed, throwing up my arms. “Genuine emotions? You’re one to talk! There’s not a single genuine bone in your body.”

He went quiet, narrowing his eyes, then said slyly, “You sure seemed to enjoy having my bone in your body the other night. That is, until you got up and disappeared.”

“How fucking dare you,” I snarled. “How dare you try to shame me for leaving when you’re the one who came here and stole evidence right out of my own private laptop?”

Rod’s blue eyes softened with guilt for just a moment. “That’s partly why I’m here. To apologize for that. It was underhanded and sneaky and I’m not proud of it.”

“Sure. That’s how you always do it. Act first, apologize later. Well, I’m not accepting your apology. Not until you give me a single good reason to trust you again,” I quipped.

“Look, we’ve both messed up here,” he insisted. “And neither of us is being honest—with each other or with ourselves.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded.

He tilted his head to one side and fixed me with an almost sympathetic look. “Come on, Hudson. Don’t play coy. We both know that what we did together—what we shared—meant something. It was real. It was honest. It was… passionate. I couldn’t have faked that, and neither could you,” he said softly, taking a step closer.

I held up one hand to stop him, even though I could feel my defenses crumbling. Those ocean-blue eyes were melting me, chipping away at the fortress I had built up between us. “No. I’m not going to let you talk me into this again. It’s all just a game to you, Rod.”

“Usually? Yes. But this time is different. With you it’s different,” he explained.

“With me? Why?” I asked, my voice wavering. Damn it. He was winning again despite my best efforts. He took another step closer, a fire burning fiercely in his eyes.

“Damn it, Hud, don’t make me say it,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

I could tell he was genuinely struggling with this, but I wasn’t about to give him an out. Not just yet. “Come on. You’re the one who showed up here talking about honesty. Spit it out, Rodney. Tell me what you came here to say,” I commanded.

He stared at me hard, the words caught in his throat. But his eyes… his eyes said it all.

“You’re an attorney, Hudson. You know just as well as I do that sometimes words aren’t as powerful as actions. As cold, hard evidence. So, what I can’t say—I can show instead. I’m going to give you all the proof you need to understand that I’m telling the truth. For once, I am being totally, completely honest with you,” he growled, closing the space between us in one brisk step.

His hands reached up to pin my arms over my head as he pushed me back against the wall. My heart was racing, my body suddenly wide awake and electrified with energy as he dove in and pressed his lips against mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth. He wedged his leg between my thighs and rutted into me, moaning desperately, clinging to me for dear life. All worries, all stress, melted away. Nothing else mattered. Right now, all we had was this moment, and I knew for a fact that both of us fully intended to make the absolute most of it. Come what may.