Now that we’re alone, I don’t know what to say to her. This situation is crazy, and I haven’t forgotten her explosion and how hurt she was.

And how wrong.

“Your brother?”

She nods, eyelashes lowering slightly. “He’s sober now. But he was a heroin addict.”

“I’m sorry.”

On a shrug, she mumbles, “No one’s life is perfect.”

“Mine is.”

She meets my eyes, chuckling at my joke. “No, yours just looks perfect. Turns out you’ve got problems like everyone else.”

There’s an incredibly strong chemistry between me and Sarah that’s grounded in reality. Not in some kind of idea or fantasy. It’s not in my head, more in my bones. And it’s making it very hard not to pull her to me and explain what really happened with that dance.

Shoving my hands in my pockets I restrain myself. “You know what, Sarah, you’re a walking dichotomy.”

“How’s that?”

“You busted my balls for months and yet in there with Bernie you were soft and kind. I like that side of you.”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” she shoots back with a smirk. But then her face immediately softens with her voice. “What, did you think I would pull a ‘drill sergeant’ on her? She’s sick.”

“Yeah, but I saw it in New Orleans, too.”

“What did you see?” Sarah whispers, looking a little scared.

“When you were dancing on that table.”

Her eyes close in embarrassment. “Can we please never bring that up again?”

“You were miserable. But acting like you could hack it. And your dancing was terrible.”

She laughs, “Thanks a lot!”

Her smile brings out my own. “You’re welcome.”

She shakes her head and walks to the kitchen. “Can I have some water?”

“Of course.”

I watch her open the fridge, her curvy body perfectly displayed in those black jeans and halter, except she’s got a sports bra on. I know for a fact her breasts hang heavier than that. She’s being modest.

And even in her heels she’s not more than five-five. I have the strongest urge to come up behind her and pull that makeshift bun down after kissing the back of her neck, and I have to clench my jaw against the urge and keep my hands in my pockets. “You were trying to be someone you’re not.”

Her wall comes down then and she turns to me. “Jason, are you playing with me?”

“Playing?” I ask, tilting my head. “Oh, that’s right. You were shouting earlier that I was using you to make Simone jealous.”

Her eyes sharpen. “Weren’t you?” She starts undoing her bun and shaking out her curls like it’s a defense mechanism to have her hair back to normal. “I’m hard, I know that. I make people’s lives hell when they get in the way of what’s best for Simone. And I know I made yours miserable. But I don’t deserve to be used. No matter what you might think.”

That’s it. Pulling my hands out I walk quickly to her and cup her soft chin roughly in my hand. “Hey, I wasn’t using you. I was jealous. And the way he was whispering in your ear and making your eyes do that thing they’re doing. I was so jealous I was about to kick the shit out of him.”

“It’s not possible,” she moans.

“Why the fuck not? You’re adorable. I can’t stop thinking about you. It drove me nuts to see him holding you like that. It wasn’t an act to get her jealous. I was the one who felt that way. I was furious!” Her breath hitches as she searches my eyes. “I don’t use women, Sarah. That’s not the kind of guy I am.”

She’s panting softly like she wants to run or kiss me and she can’t decide which.

Her voice is hoarse as she whispers, “You’re the kind of guy who makes a move on his ex’s friend.”

Our eyes linger on each other during my weighty pause. Slipping my hand into her soft, auburn curls, I murmur, “I’m trying to think how I can answer that and not sound like an asshole. So here’s the truth. You ready?” She nods, blinking rapidly. I tighten my hold on her hair, tilting her head back a little as I bend over her. My voice is deeper now that I’m this close to her. I’m rock hard and I want to press into her. “Simone doesn’t care about me. No more than I care about her. She’s just pissed I called it off first. No, don’t make that face. You know I’m right. You know her. She was going to kick me to the curb.”

“Why do you think that,” Sarah whispers, staring at my lips. It’s so hot having her look at me like that, with her almond eyes peering up from hooded lids. She seems so innocent, as though this is the first time a man has touched her like this. The first time a man has looked at her with longing. I can practically taste how wet she must be. I’m straining against my jeans zipper. And she just licked her lips while staring at mine.

Fucking hell.

I need her.

I need to taste her.

Struggling to keep cool, I groan, “You going to look me in the face like this and lie and tell me she wasn’t gonna drop me the second she was done?”

“I can’t say that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Her eyes close briefly and then open in the sexiest way. “Won’t.”

“Fuck,” I growl, “I have to do this.” I press my lips into hers and feel her rise up, responding and arching her back. Unlocking her jaw with my own I seek out her tongue. “Relax,” I rasp into her. She nods a little and tips her head back. Before I know it we’re kissing roughly, tongues dancing with a hunger I’ve never felt. All I can see and feel is white hot heat.

Sarah, who always busts my balls has slipped soft arms around me, cradling my head as she kisses me, returning every ounce of passion I give her.

I jam her tiny frame against the refrigerator, gripping her lower back with one hand, her head with the other, my fingers tangled in her curls. I groan into her open lips and grind against her crotch, desperate for relief.

She moans into my mouth, whimpers, then shoves me away from her.

I back off, running my hands through my hair to gain control of myself.

I’m panting.

Harder than I’ve ever been.

And all I can think about is how badly I want to taste her pussy and make her scream.

“That was amazing,” I rasp, locking eyes with her. “Why did that feel so good?’

“I don’t know, but I can’t!” she moans, sliding her hands down her stomach and clawing at her closed zipper like she wants nothing more than to rip it open.

“Do it,” I moan, panting.

Turning away from me she tries to burrow into the unforgiving refrigerator door. “Oh God!”

I come up behind her and move her hair to the side, kissing the back of her neck like I fantasized doing. She presses her ass into my crotch and my eyes roll fucking back into my head. I slip both hands around the front of her jeans and cup her pussy through them. She moans and rubs on my hand and I swear I’m going to blow just from this.

My cock is pulsing for her.

Throbbing painfully.

“Sarah,” I groan, tracing her earlobe with my tongue.

She moans, “I can’t. Please stop.” She bucks me backward and moves away from me, holding out her hand as she begs me, “Please. Stay over there.”

Out of breath and licking my lips like she’s a piece of steak I growl, “I’ve gotta fuck you!”

“Jason,” Bernie’s voice interrupts us.

Sarah and I fall into total shock. Shame waves over her eyes and I’m just speechless. “Go,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and face stricken.

Adjusting myself and feeling shame flash into my blood, I groan, “I can’t believe I forgot.”

Sarah covers her mouth, shaking her head that she can’t believe we both lost ourselves that much.

I walk to the divider, rushing to Bernie, and gasp when I see her.

She’s unconscious.

“SARAH!” She comes running. “Check her pulse!”

Two shaking fingers go to Bernie’s exposed neck. Sarah counts and then looks at me, waiting for enough time to pass. She closes her eyes a moment and whispers, “She’s asleep. Her heartbeat is almost normal now.”

“Thank God,” I croak.

Sarah smoothes Bernie’s hair and murmurs to her that she’s going to be okay. She slides onto the floor with her back resting on the side of the bed. I’m sitting on it with Bernie’s hand in mine. We stay here like this for a long time.

Finally I see Sarah’s lips go lax as sleep starts to pull at her. She closes her eyes and rests her head, legs all twisted into a pretzel, arms hugging them.

She’s a good woman. She’s grounded, and when needed, she’s kind.

“Sarah,” I whisper.

Her sleepy eyelids flutter halfway open. “She okay?”

“C’mere.” Bending, I lift her off the hard floor. She slides her arms around my neck and gazes up at me before her eyes flit quickly toward Bernie. “Don’t worry. She’s safe. She was snoring a minute ago. It’s time for you to get some sleep, too.”