Tre had extremely disturbing dreams that night. He was a little boy in a dark room. A woman in a black velvet dress had her back turned to him. Tre begged her to turn around. He knew he’d die if she turned away from him. He knew that his life was in her hands. If she rejected him then whatever he had that was worth loving would be gone forever. He’d be better off dead. She held his soul and bent over it, the long train of her black velvet dress creeping toward him inexorably.

Tre knew that even if she didn’t turn to him, he had to touch her, just once. Just once before he died. He stepped up to her, pressed his front against her back, let himself feel her plush warmth. Still she didn’t turn, the velvet of her dress wrapped around him, tight and tighter.

Tre woke with a start in his bed, his eyes pressed closed and his face buried in silk. He breathed hard. He couldn’t shake the dream. He could still feel her in his arms. The woman who decided that keeping him wasn’t an option, even if turning from him meant his death. He shifted and still was in the grips of the dream. The warmth of her plush ass pressed against him. He could even feel a small soft foot between his calves, the rise and fall of her breath.

The silk at his face registered, the smell of vanilla filled his nostrils. He had a handful of something soft, but it wasn’t velvet. It was cotton. His eyes blinked open and Tre blearily realized that there actually was a woman in his arms.

He stared down at her for three full seconds before he jerked away from her.

She stirred and looked over her shoulder, those honey eyes catching a shaft of moonlight and staring straight through him.

“Caroline?” He scooted back a few inches, lifting his knees so that she couldn’t see the wood he was currently sporting. Jesus. He’d had that smashed up against her ass not twenty seconds ago. He really, really hoped she’d been sleeping. “What are you doing here?”

His voice was gruff with sleep and confusion, but she smiled sweetly up at him, rolling to face him. She pillowed her cheek on her folded hands and burrowed into his pillow. He’d chosen a room with a small double bed, so there wasn’t very much room for him to scoot away from her.

“Sleeping,” she replied, her eyes starting to drift closed.

“No. Caroline.” He nudged her shoulder to keep her from falling asleep. “Why are you here in my bed and not yours?”

“Oh,” she said sleepily, her eyes drifting closed again. “Let’s talk in the morning.”

“Caroline,” Tre said again in exasperation, but her eyes were closed and her breaths were even.

He stared at her for a minute before he huffed out a frustrated breath. She must have had a bad dream or something. She’d needed a friend. He was pretty sure that he was her best friend out of everyone in the group. After all, he’d helped her through the last stages of her divorce. And they just got along so well anyways. They were naturally compatible. It made sense to him that if she needed someplace to turn in the night, she would have come to him.

He just wished that she’d woken him up before she’d slid that body between his sheets. Because damn. He’d seen her in pajamas before and he knew how much she liked to wear short shorts and a little demure button-up pajama top. Something about that combination just slayed him. And now she was all warm and snuggled in his bed. He wished he had a shirt on.

Sighing, Tre grabbed the extra blanket from the foot of his bed and rolled to the floor. At least it was carpet. He sighed as he stared at the ceiling of his room and watched as the moonlight slowly crept across. He would have thought that between the nightmare and the shock of finding Caroline in his bed, he would never be able to sleep again. But sleep found him.

He woke the second the light in the room tipped from blue to gray, knowing dawn was around the corner. He sat up and couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at the bed and immediately made eye contact with Caroline who was looking at him like she’d gotten caught stealing from the tip jar.

“I didn’t mean to make you sleep on the floor,” she whispered, though his room was far enough back in the house they weren’t gonna wake anyone by talking. She lay on her stomach with her cheek at the edge of the mattress, her silky chestnut hair tumbled over the side, almost reaching the floor.

“It’s okay,” Tre whispered back. “I thought I might be a gentleman.”

“You were very gentlemanly.” She nodded solemnly.

There was a complicated emotion in those big honey eyes of hers. Tre scraped a hand over his face. She handed down his glasses from the nightstand and he gratefully accepted them. However, the second they were on, he regretted it. He doubted he’d ever be able to forget the startlingly clear image of Caroline Clifton sprawled over his bed, her eyes on his face and her fingers playing in the sheets.

“Caroline…”

“The others got hurt when they were alone.” Her eyes fell from his face to the floor. Though it sounded like a non sequitur, he realized that she was answering his question from the night before. Why she was there in his bed.

“You mean Jack and Jean Luc?”

She nodded. “They were targeted for times when they were alone. So I thought that maybe you shouldn’t be alone.”

The way she toggled the sheet around in her fingers made Tre think that she had more to say but she waited and waited, her eyes still on the ground.

“It was more complicated than them just being physically alone, Caroline. You know that.” He tried to speak gently, carefully, but he was inordinately terrified of hurting her feelings. He never wanted to hurt her. Even now he was fighting the urge to pull the sheet up over her shoulder so she wouldn’t be cold.

“You mean because of Thea and Celia?”

Her eyes were still on the ground and he wished that she would look up at him. She didn’t. “Yes. Jack and Jean Luc weren’t vulnerable to the demon because they were physically alone, but because they were torn up over their women. Because they were separated from the people they loved.” He paused, wondering if there was any way of not sounding like an asshole when he said the next part and ultimately decided he just had to hold his breath and dive in. “So, I’m safe, love, because I don’t… feel that way about anyone. I’m not vulnerable to the demon because my heart’s not broken, you know?”

She was quiet for a while. “It just seemed like everyone was pairing off.”

So she’d thought that she and Tre might find the kind of love that the others had found. His stomach tightened down so hard and so fast he felt a wave of nausea roll through him. God. They weren’t even dating and his inability to love had already hurt her. “Right,” he said eventually. “It does seem that way.”

“So I just thought…” she trailed off. He knew exactly what she thought and it made him hot and cold at the same time. The idea of hurting her was so reprehensible it almost choked him. A flash of how she’d felt pressed against him jolted him and he felt color creep up his neck. “But maybe I got it wrong,” she continued. “Maybe you feel that way about Martine?”

“What?” Tre automatically laughed. “No. I mean, Martine’s a really cool chick. Totally badass. But no, I’m not into her that way.”

Caroline’s eyes flashed to his and then away. Her fingers twisted in the sheets. “I think I’m just a little lonely?”             

His heart clenched and he couldn’t help but reach up and lace her fingers with his. His thumb automatically drew a circle in the palm of her hand. She still looked down.

“I thought you were doing the Tinder thing still?” he asked. She’d been having a blast with it the last time he’d checked, shaking her newly single tail feather. It had taken every single ounce of Tre’s self-control not to hack her account and make sure that the dudes she was chatting with weren’t lecherous psychos. He’d been calmed by the fact that she hadn’t done more than message with any of them.

“It was fun for a while,” she shrugged. “But then Peter called me.”

Tre’s hand tightened over hers. “You talked to him?”

 There was a bitter taste in the back of his throat. As a part of Caroline’s past, Tre had barely given this Peter asshole a second thought. Peter Clifton was just the fucking idiot who’d let Caroline get away. But as a part of Caroline’s present? As someone who felt he had the right to call her up and upset her? Well, suddenly Tre’s body was pumping something bright and acidic through his veins. Peter. What an asshole. And what a dumbass ordinary name. Peter. Tre imagined some humongous, cosmic hand flicking Peter Clifton off the face of the earth like a chess piece.

“Yes. He called. We talked. I kind of let him think that I was with a new man now.” Her cheeks turned bubble gum pink.

“Good,” Tre said immediately, vehemently. “He needs to know that you’ve moved on and that he should, too.”

“Oh, he’s definitely moved on.” There was a slow honesty in her tone that Tre very much hoped wasn’t sadness. “Trust me.”

“Caroline, trust me, he hasn’t moved on. I really don’t think it would be possible to move on from you.”             

She smiled. “Sweet.” Her hand tightened against his for a second. “Untrue, but sweet.”

He opened his mouth to argue with her but she talked over him.

“The thing is, Tre. Was that I was kind of thinking we could kill two birds with one stone?”

“Which two birds?” he asked carefully.

“Well.” Finally, finally, she looked up at him and held his gaze with hers. “You need company so you don’t get taken by the demon. And I kind of need… someone to take my mind off of Peter?”

White noise bloomed in Tre’s ears. It rose to a high pitch before falling back. He spoke incredibly slowly. “Are you, ah, asking me to be your rebound?”

“Rebound! Yes! That’s the perfect word for it. Just something to get me back on my feet.”

Now that she was finally looking at him, Tre was wishing that she would put those honey eyes on something else for a minute. He was sure that the color at his neck had spread to his cheeks. He was hot and itchy. He felt like he was on a dark stage with a blindingly bright spotlight on him. He wished that guy with the big hook would yank him offstage.

“Ah.” He cleared his throat. “You mean you want somebody to flirt with and cuddle with?”

“Yes,” she nodded resolutely.

His stomach settled a little bit.

“And to have sex with,” she added.

His stomach tightened back up into a world of knots. “Wow. I’m not sure what to say.”

Apparently realizing that that wasn’t an out and out ‘no’, Caroline rose up to sit cross-legged on the bed, her hair spilling everywhere and her face soft and pink from the warmth of the bed. “I think it would be good for both of us.” Her eyes dropped and she played with the ends of her hair. “I mean, I’d do my best to make it good for you.”

He swallowed a groan. He’d been valiantly attempting to put a stopper in the mental images bottle, but she blew the cork right out with that one. Tre was immediately flooded with images of Caroline trying hard to make it good for him. Her soft hands on him, those plush lips, her serious eyes, her innocent sincerity. Christ.

Realizing his hand was sweating, Tre unlaced their fingers. “You’re saying that you want to sleep with me?” His voice was low.

“I really like sex,” she insisted, both hands playing with a lock of hair now. “I always have. And you already know things weren’t good with Peter for the last few years. So, it’s been few and far between for me for a long time. And you’re so handsome and I like your tattoos and you’re always sweet to me. Plus, I like the way you move and smell and I just thought…”

Tre couldn’t keep this particular groan inside. He lowered his forehead to his raised knees and just breathed for a minute.              

Don’t be a bastard. Don’t be a bastard. DON’T be a bastard.

Tre knew it would make him a bastard to rise up and press her back on the bed. To wrap her legs around his waist and take handfuls of her gorgeously big ass in his hands. For two months she’d been perfectly off limits. So firmly out of his league that he’d barely even fantasized about her, barely even sneaked peeks. But now, here she was, offering herself up on a platter. And Tre was hungry. He hadn’t slept with someone in the two months they’d been on this adventure and not for about three weeks from before that. Which was definitely a dry patch for him. He wasn’t an animal, but he enjoyed getting laid.

And here was this undeniably gorgeous creature playing with her hair and looking at him with clear amber eyes and really filling out those pajama shorts.

If he’d thought for one second that she was truly asking for what she’d just asked him for, he would probably already have his face buried between her legs. But he’d had the extreme honor and privilege of becoming Caroline Clifton’s friend over the last weeks. There was no way she actually wanted a fuck buddy. Even if she thought she did. She was bruised up from her divorce, sure, and she’d said before she was looking for casual. But somewhere, deep in her heart, Caroline was a romantic. She wanted what Celia and Thea had. She wanted life-changing love.

“I’m not sure we’re on the same page here, love.”

She wilted before his very eyes like a tulip with hot water tossed over top of it. “Oh. You don’t want to sleep with me.”

He puffed out a humorless, painful laugh. “That’s not the problem.” Tre scraped a hand over the back of his neck and his coppery hair. He pushed at his eyes under his glasses and then leaned back on his hands, letting his head fall back to look up at the ceiling. He found it was much easier to talk to the drywall than to her. “Caroline, you’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen up close.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she laughed. “What about Thea?”

Tre couldn’t even call up Thea’s face in his mind at that particular moment. “We’re not talking about her. We’re talking about you. You’re vivacious and fun and sweet and smart and so unbelievably sexy, love.”

“So, you find me beautiful but I’m not your type?”

He thought of all of her preppy little outfits, her simple jewelry and perfect hair. She looked absolutely nothing like the tough little honeys he usually slept with. But her attractiveness went far beyond the confines of personal style. This had nothing to do with the label on the pocket of her PJs.

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”
He lifted his head and her eyes quickly skittered away from the tattoos on his chest that she’d obviously just been eyeing. That made things both easier and harder for him. He really, really didn’t want to say what he was about to say. He knew it was going to change her perception of him. And she thought so highly of him. He really loved it. She made him feel like he was twelve feet tall. But, he had to tell her. He figured it was the only way to get this idea out of her head. “I don’t sleep with women I know.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and she went very, very still. “You mean you only sleep with strangers?”

He nodded, watching her face carefully.

“But…” she bit her plush bottom lip. “After you sleep with them, you know them and they aren’t strangers anymore, so….”

“So, I don’t usually sleep with a woman more than once,” he filled in the rest of the blank. He figured he might as well just go whole hog and get the damn thing out in the open. “Sex isn’t about intimacy for me. Or connection. And it definitely isn’t about love. I just like to have a good time, is all.”

She was looking at him like she didn’t know him and he hated it.

“You don’t believe in love?” she asked softly, her head cocked to one side and her long, gorgeous hair just dusting over the top of the blanket.

He shrugged. “It’s not a part of my life, Caroline. I don’t think it ever will be. I’m not capable of it.”

She looked like he’d just told her that he liked to club baby seals. “Tre—”

“No, Caroline, trust me. I’ve thought about this a lot. There are some men, like Jack and Jean Luc, who were born with the ability to love. And there are some men, like me, who weren’t. I care about you so much, as a friend. And I’m super fucking attracted to you. But we can’t sleep together. I would just hurt you. And I respect you too much to do that.”

“Oh. Okay.” She shrugged a little. She slid off the bed and came to stand in front of him. He could tell that she was hurt and confused. Disappointment in himself was a stiflingly hot blanket flopped over him. He hated feeling like this. This was why he had these rules! So he wouldn’t be the bad guy all the time. He got to his feet.

She straightened her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Wanna play cards until everybody else wakes up?”

They had a gin tournament going on that had lasted weeks and weeks. She was as good as he was and neither of them could pull ahead. Tre’s lungs opened up and he almost gasped for the fresh cold air of relief. She didn’t hate him. She was giving him the opportunity to stay friends. She was the best.

“Definitely. I’m just gonna get some clothes on and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

She nodded, went to step around him and paused. Her arms, soft and warm and tight, snagged around his chest and squeezed. Her cheek pressed into his mat of coppery chest hair. Her long chestnut hair tickled every inch of his skin on the way down.

He waited a beat and then clasped his arms around her shoulders. Held her tight.

He watched her go, a peculiar heaviness settling in his gut.