I’m leaving the gym when I first spot her, covered from head to toe in black as she waits under the building’s overhang and out of the rain. It’s stormed all day, and now it’s lightened to a faint drizzle, darkness fully settled in since it’s six o’clock on a mid-November evening.

Smiling, I approach Jensen, pleased that she waited for me. I told her I had basketball practice earlier, when we were texting. I even told her where I practiced, though pretty much everyone on campus knows what gym we use. I didn’t outright ask her, but I’d hoped she would’ve sought me out tonight. I still haven’t mentioned the family dinner in celebration of Addie’s birthday tomorrow at the Cheesecake Factory, and I wanted to ask her in person from the start, though I never really got around to it.

“What are you doing here? Waiting for me?” I ask when I get closer. She’s wearing black leggings and a giant oversized black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her head, reminding me of some Star Wars overlord.

Jensen rolls her eyes, a tiny smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “No, I’m waiting for someone else. Of course, I’m waiting for you, Rhett.”

I pull her into a quick hug and she shoves her way out of it. Public displays of affection are definitely not her thing, but I’m trying. “I’m fucking starving.”

“How was practice?” She falls into step beside me and I tug the hood of my sweatshirt over my head as we walk together toward the parking lot.

“Good. Exhausting. Coach ran us extra hard.” We have a game on Thursday, though it doesn’t count. The season officially starts next week, and the team feels ready, though our coaches disagree, as usual.

“Oh. Maybe you’re too tired to hang out?” She glances up at me with those sad blue eyes, and I wonder if something happened today.

And would she even tell me about it.

“Nah, let’s go get something to eat. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

We get to my car and I drive to a nearby shopping center, where my favorite California poke bowl place is. The restaurant is packed, like it always is, and Jensen and I get in line, her nervous energy tipping me off that something’s up.

“You don’t like this place?” I ask her.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been here.” She studies the menu, frowning. “I don’t know what half this stuff is.”

For some reason, I’m happy she actually admitted that. I remember when I took her to the Italian restaurant, how lost she looked while staring at the menu. She didn’t know what to get, didn’t know how to pronounce the words, and I felt like an asshole, taking her there, making her feel uncomfortable when that was the last thing I wanted to do.

“I’ll help you, promise. This place is like Subway, but for poke bowls, since you pick all of your ingredients as you go down the line. And a poke bowl is like sushi, but all mixed together in a bowl. Do you like sushi?” I ask her.

“Never had it.”

This girl hasn’t experienced much but hardship and bullshit, I swear. “Well, the base is white or brown rice and wontons if you want, or a vegetable mixture. Then you add a protein, like shrimp or chicken, or ahi tuna, which is raw tuna.” She makes a face, but I keep talking. “And then you mix the protein with a sauce. They have all kinds—sweet, spicy, a miso sauce.”

“What’s miso?”

“It’s a spice, I think. Ever had miso soup?” When she shrugs, I continue. “Well, after the sauce, then you can add vegetables, add even more sauce if you want, crunchy toppings, and you’re done.”

She examines the bowls currently being made, her eyes lighting up with interest. “They look kind of good.”

“They’re fucking delicious.” She turns to look at me, a smile on her pretty face. “I’m a hardcore fan. Come here at least once a week, maybe twice.”

“Really,” she drawls, nudging her shoulder against my arm. “They’re that good, huh.”

“Trust me, they are. I wouldn’t steer you wrong,” I promise.

Her eyes take on a serious light. “I know you wouldn’t. That’s what I like about you.”

That admission felt real, like a damn gift, and unable to help myself, I sling my arm around her shoulders and pull her in close, pressing my lips against her forehead in a quick kiss. “I’m glad you waited for me after practice. It was a nice surprise.”

She gently pulls away, but not so far that my arm drops from her shoulders. I’m still holding her, an obvious public display of affection. This is progress. “I wanted to see you,” she admits.

“I’m glad.” So fucking glad, not that I can make a big deal about it. She’s sketchy, like a wild animal that’s close to being tamed. One wrong move and she might run away.

Or scratch your eyes out.

We get our bowls, me helping her out with her order as we move down the line, making recommendations based on her likes and dislikes. I pay for our bowls, Jensen getting us cups of water and our silverware, and when we finally meet at the table she’s settled on, I’m eager to see her reaction to her poke bowl.

“Try it,” I say, setting her bowl in front of her.

She picks up a forkful and tastes it, chewing slowly, her expression completely blank. I’m fidgeting in my chair, afraid she hates it, which is so stupid. Why should I care whether she likes poke bowls or not?

Because you want to share something with her, fuckwad. You like this girl. You want to have common ground with her.

“What do you think?” I ask when she still hasn’t said anything.

She swallows, takes a sip of her water, and then shoves another bite into her mouth. “It’s okay,” she mumbles, her mouth full.

I watch her eat, smiling as she keeps going. “You love it,” I tell her after about her sixth bite.

“I do,” she laughs, smiling. “Now stop staring at me and start eating.”

We eat, making idle conversation about the last few days. I haven’t seen her since late Sunday night, when her friend Savannah took her home after she got off work at the club. I wanted Jensen to stay the entire night, but she wouldn’t have it, saying she needed to get some actual sleep, versus endless bouts of sex.

Not that I’m complaining about all the sex we’re having, but I get what she’s saying.

We’re almost finished with our food when I finally decide to ask her about going with me to dinner tomorrow. “So it’s my sister’s birthday,” I start.

Jensen lifts her gaze from the bowl, her expression neutral. “How old will she be?”

“Seventeen. My family’s getting together for dinner tomorrow to celebrate.” I pause, letting my words sink in before I go on. “I’d like you to come with me.”

“What?” Her expression is nothing short of horrified, like I just suggested she should have sex with my dad or something equally twisted and weird. Definitely didn’t expect that strong of a reaction.

“It’s not a big deal,” I quickly reassure her. “Just a typical family dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. It’ll be loud, my dad might tell bad jokes, my sister will be embarrassed because her boyfriend is there with us, and my stepmom will bitch about the bad service and how much she hates that place.”

“I don’t know…” Jensen starts, slowly shaking her head. At least that horrified expression is gone. Somewhat. “I don’t do well with family dinners.”

“Have you ever been to a family dinner with someone else?”

“No,” she admits quietly.

That’s what I thought. “Then how do you know you don’t do well with them?”

Jensen pushes her bowl away from her, like she’s lost her appetite. “This feels—serious, Rhett.”

“What, going to Cheesecake Factory? Trust me, it’s not.” Actually, it is, but I’m trying to play this off. I don’t bring girls around my family. It gives them expectations that I can’t meet. Like we’re serious when we’re not.

But there’s something about this girl that makes me want to push her into being in a serious relationship.

With me.

Am I crazy? Probably. One minute I can’t trust her, the next I want her to be my official girlfriend. I’m making no sense. But this girl does something to me. The more she pushes me away, the more I want to reel her back in.

Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment. I don’t know.

“You want to introduce me to your family?” Now she appears shocked.

“Well…yeah. You can be my buffer, so I won’t have to suffer with my family alone.” I smile and reach across the table to grab her hand, trying to charm her. “Come on, Jens. Say yes. It’ll be fun.”

She absently rubs her fingers against mine, her gaze seemingly far away, like she really has to think about this before she can answer. “Are you sure you want me there?”

“I asked you, didn’t I?” I give her fingers a squeeze, and she looks at me. “I want you to be there.”

A sigh escapes her and she rolls her eyes. “Can I get a piece of cheesecake?”

I take a deep breath, not realizing I’d been holding it. This girl leaves me on edge, I swear. “You can have an entire cheesecake if that’s what you want.”

“I might take you up on that offer.” She smiles.

“Done.” I bring her hand to my mouth and press my lips to the back of it. “Want to get out of here?”

A knowing smile curls her lips as her answer.

It’s much later in the night, when we’re both naked and exhausted, our hands idly searching each other’s bodies as we drift off to sleep, when she makes a revelation.

“I lied to you about working at City Lights because I didn’t want you to think less of me,” she admits, her voice soft in the quiet, dark night.

Her words wake me up completely and I blink up at the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t like me if you knew I was a topless waitress. Or that you’d think I was nothing but a big joke. A slut. A whore.” She lifts her head, propping her arm across my chest so she can look at me. I can barely make out her features in the darkness, but I see the whites of her eyes, and can tell just how serious she is. “I hate that I lied to you.”

“It’s okay.” I rest my hand on top of her head, stroking her hair. “I understand why you did it.”

“I don’t like hiding pieces of me from you. But it’s something I’ve always done, with everyone.” She ducks her head, her face in my chest, and my hand falls away from her. “There’s a lot of stuff I’ve done that I’m ashamed of.”

“Can I be real with you right now, like you’re being with me?” I ask her.

She lifts her head once more, nodding.

“I don’t like your job. I don’t like the idea of guys staring at your naked chest while you serve them drinks.” It makes me feel possessive in the worst possible way. Like I want to kick ass and destroy people. “But I respect your choices. You did what you had to do to make money and survive. Who am I to judge you for that?”

“You’re too good to be true,” she whispers, her voice shaky, her eyes glassy. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that.” I touch her cheek, stroke my fingers along her velvety-soft skin. “I hate it when you put yourself down.”

“It’s true, Rhett. I’ve made terrible choices. I’ve done things that could…hurt you. I want to tell you everything, but I can’t. Not yet.”

Unease slips down my spine, but I fight against it. I can’t judge her. She’s being honest with me, which is exactly what I want. Getting mad won’t solve anything. It will only make the situation worse. “Take your time. Tell me whenever you’re ready, and I’ll be here.”

“You are here for me, aren’t you? You really are.” She slides up, until we’re hip-to-hip, chest-to-chest, face-to-face. Eye-to-eye. “You’re the first person to ever do that for me.”

I frown. “Do what?”

“Be there for me. No one ever has been before.”

I cup the back of her head once more, threading my fingers through her thick, silky hair. “I really doubt that—”

“No, it’s true.” She rests her fingers against my lips, silencing me. “I kept pushing you away, yet you always came back. I didn’t understand why. I still don’t.” She traces my upper lip with her index finger, her gaze thoughtful.

I kiss her fingertips and they fall away from my mouth. “Maybe it’s because I don’t want to give up on you.”

“Everyone else does.”

She seems so sad, so down, and I hate it. Why does she act like her life is always such a disappointment? I don’t know enough about her past to understand, not completely, and I don’t think it’s safe to ask yet. “Not me.”

“I know, and I’ve grown to appreciate you.” Jensen takes a deep breath, like she’s working up the nerve to say something. “I’m broken, I know I am. I’ve told you before that I’m…not nice. You make me want to be a better person, Rhett, but I don’t know if that’s possible. And I just wanted to warn you that I might hurt you. No matter what you eventually find out, no matter what you see or hear or read, you need to know that right now, tonight, I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I haven’t wanted to for a while.”

I kiss her. She’s talking nonsense. I don’t get why she’s trying to tell me all this shit. It’s kind of freaking me out, when the logical part of my brain is telling me she’s just being dramatic. “You can’t hurt me,” I whisper against her lips. “I won’t allow it.”

“You can’t control everything either, Rhett,” she reminds me, her lips on my cheek, my neck. I really fucking love it when she kisses my neck, and she knows it.

Our conversation gives way to kissing, which gives way to actually having sex, which is a typical night for us.

But I can’t help but think much later, long after Jensen’s fallen asleep in my arms and I’m wide awake at two in the morning, remembering everything she said…

And wondering if maybe I should actually take her advice.