I give Tess a head-start, making myself count out a few minutes before I follow behind her. When I make it back to the main gallery, I find her almost immediately. She’s standing near the bar, talking to Chase, Cari’s art friend. He’s admiring her tattoos. Takes her arm and turns it to study the ink work. Brushes his thumb against the hummingbird, just below her collarbone.

There’s nothing inappropriate about what he’s doing. Nothing sexual about the way he’s touching her. He’s an artist. Tess is covered in art. Of course he’s going to want to look at it. Touch it.

Shit.

Where the fuck is Ryan?

He’s supposed to be with her.

Seriously, asshole? You were about to drop him on his fucking head less than an hour ago because he ordered her a drink.

Right.

I need to leave. Now, before I do or say something that’ll embarrass my family or land me in jail.

I’ll just find Cari and congratulate her on her opening. Shake Patrick’s hand and tell them both I’ll see them in the morning.

Then I’ll go home and drink all the Jameson.

All of it.

Spotting Cari and Patrick talking with Miranda, I start making my way over to them to say my good-byes.

“Oh my god, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” I hear Jessica’s voice a moment before I feel her slip her arm through mine. As usual, I have to fight the urge to, pull away from her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand in a low tone, trying to keep my voice down. Despite my efforts, I get a few looks.

“Where else would I be?” she says, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

I dunno. Fucking your ballplayer.

The only reason I don’t say it is I’ve already hit my quota for disapproving looks from the Boston Elite and if I get one more, I probably will end up in jail. “Not here.” I grit it out through clenched teeth “Because I told you not to come here, Jessica.”

“Have you seen Cari?” It’s like I’m not even talking. “I was thinking we should commission her to do a wedding portrait,” she says, she lets go of my arm to snag a champagne flute from a passing tray. “You know, you in your tux. Me in my wedding dress—it would be so Kate and Wills.”

I have no idea what she just said. All I know is that I need to get her out of here before she sees Tess. “We’re leaving,” I say, stepping as close as I can without touching her. “Right. Now.”

“After I finish my champagne.” She flutters her fingers at me. “And after I talk to Cari. I really think we nee—” She stops min-tirade. I don’t even have to look to know why.

“Jessica.” I grab her arm to keep her in place.

“Looks like someone’s fairy godmother took pity on her.” She flips her hair again, her overly made-up face working itself into a sneer. “Let's go say hi.”

“No.” I squeeze her elbow just enough to let her know I’m serious. “We’re leaving.”

“This is Cari’s big night, Declan,” she reminds me in the sticky-sweet tone she uses when she’s feeling especially psychotic. “Her parents are here. Her adorable little sister. Art critics.” She reaches up and pries my hand off her arm. “I’d hate to have to ruin this for her because you’ve decided to be unreasonable.”

There’s no telling what she’s capable of or what she’ll do in order to get her way. Making a scene in the middle of a black-tie affair just to fuck me and mine over is the least of it.

Before I can say a word she reaches up and straightened my tie. “Let’s go say hi,” she says it again, this time not giving me a chance to get my hands on her before she slips through the crowd, heading straight for Tess.

She’s less than a dozen steps away from Tess before I manage to snatch her up by her arm and stop her, mid-stride. “Go ahead,” I say pushing the invitation through clenched teeth, lowering my head to press my mouth against her ear. “Do what you gotta do, but if you so much as sneeze in her direction, I’ll tell Viaga’s wife all about you.” When she doesn’t jerk away from me and start screaming, I keep going. “Henley’s step-father owns the building, did you know that? The Boylston is known for its discretion but I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help me fuck you over.” I don’t know if any of that is true but I’m an excellent liar so I sell the shit out of it. Flicking my gaze upward I see Tess standing a few feet away. Chase next to her. Both of them watching me. He’s standing close to her, his shoulder angle in front of her, instinctively putting his body between her and what’s happening in front of them.

Because even total strangers know Tess needs to be protected from me.

I drop my gaze, and focus on getting Jessica out of here. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going leave, right fucking now, and if you ever so much as look at her again, I’ll make you very, very sorry.”

She doesn’t say anything. She just lets me lead her to the door.

She’s pouting.

I’m the one who caught her practically fucking the shortstop for the Sox in a public elevator and she’s the one who’s pouting.

Jess is huddled against the passenger door of my truck, rubbing her arm where I grabbed her while slipping me wounded looks, like she’s some kind of battered wife and I’m the big, dumb brute who settles everything with his fists.

Fuck.

“What part of do not come to Cari’s opening did you not understand?” I don’t look at her when I say it because it’s probably best that I don’t look at her.

“Cari is my best friend, Declan,” she simpers at me. “Of course I’m going to be there to support her on her big night.”

“Cari is your best friend?” I repeat it because I’m hoping if she hears someone else say it out loud, she’ll recognize how absolutely insane it sounds. When she doesn’t say anything I start to laugh. “Cari isn’t your best friend, Jessica—she isn’t your best anything. She can’t fucking stand you and let’s be honest, the feeling is mutual. The only reason you asked Cari to be your maid-of-honor is that you knew it would hurt Tess. That ends. Right. Fucking. Now.”

I said the magic word.

“It always comes back to her, doesn’t it?” she drops her scared rabbit routine and hisses at me like a snake. “Tess.”

“For you and me both.”

Usually, when she accuses me of still being hung up on Tess, I either ignore her or flat-out deny it. Not because I’m ashamed or don’t want her to know, but because Jessica is a vindictive bitch who looks for and uses every excuse she can find to hurt Tess, every chance she gets.

She and I have a lot in common.

“So, you admit it,” she screeches at me, like she’s uncovered the crime of the century. “You are still in love with that dirty little slut.”

“Number one—you ever call her that again, you’re going to regret it. Number two—Tess wasn’t the one letting Ephraim Viaga work her like a goddamned sock puppet in a public elevator.” I let myself look at her, if only so I can have the satisfaction of watching her mouth flap and flop like a fish. “That was you—and while we’re being honest, let me be clear—I sincerely don’t give a shit.”

“What?” We’re back to wounded.

“I don’t care who you fuck,” I say enunciating each word as clearly as I can.

“Because you’re still in love with Tess.” She’s back to pouting. Trying to find an angle to make this my fault. Make me the bad guy.

She really doesn’t need to expend the effort.

I am the bad guy.

Always have been.

“My feelings for Tess are irrelevant.” I pull off the road and into an empty spot in front of our apartment building. lived here for nearly two years before I even thought about dating Jessica. When we started seeing each other, she slipped in like a squatter and I let her because living with her is a part of my penance. “I don’t care who you fuck because I’m not in love with you.”

“You don’t mean that.” Her eyes glitter with tears. I’d bet my left nut they’re as fake as she is. She’s incapable of feeling anything real.

“Yes, I do.” I look right at her when I say it. I need to make sure she understands. That this isn’t up for negotiation. That I absolutely mean every word I’m saying to her. “Now, get out of my truck.”

“Where are you going?” she demands in an accusatory tone, still pretending she has a right to ask me anything.

“Now.”

My tone has her grappling for the door handle. When she’s standing on the sidewalk I reach across the cab to pull the passenger door closed but she steps in front of it to block me.

“Are we still getting married?” Her eyes are dry when she asks it. The show is over. No simpering pout. No accusatory screech. Jessica is all business. She’s not fighting to save our relationship. She’s closing a business deal.

I stare at her, wondering what happened to her. When she got so broken. If something happened to her or if she was just born this way.

It never really mattered before. I never really cared about why because it’s what makes being with her so easy. Why she’s perfect for me.

Because she’s incapable of genuine emotion. No matter what I do, no matter what I say, I can’t hurt her.

“Yes.” I reach past her, barely giving her enough time to move out the way before I slam the car door shut.