TWO FRIDAYS LATER, Jill had a date.

Lucas wasn’t happy about it either.

They’d been getting along well for the past two weeks, and Lucas was generally happy about his living situation. He’d been training himself to refocus any time sex crossed his mind in her presence, and he’d even been managing about half the time not to imagine having sex with her when he was in his bedroom alone at night.

He’d been as good as he could possibly be, and it would be nice if that meant he would be rewarded.

Instead of rewarded, he had to deal with Jill fluttering around getting ready for her date on Friday evening. Then he had to watch her leave with the guy and brood about what they might be doing.

She hadn’t even met this guy online. She knew him from her work building or something. She knew what he looked like. She knew how he acted. And she wanted to go out with him.

The date wasn’t likely to be a flop.

The guy had come to pick up Jill at seven, but Lucas had only caught a brief glimpse of him. He’d had long hair and dark-rimmed glasses and a hipster vibe. Jill probably thought he was a good match for her.

She’d probably have a good time.

She’d probably go out with him again.

She’d probably decide she really liked him and make him her boyfriend.

Lucas knew enough to realize things would be better that way—it would be safer for him and dispel a lot of the tension he couldn’t help but feel around her—but he didn’t like the idea of it.

He didn’t like it at all.

After she left the apartment, he left too, going to a bar he’d found last week with a decent bartender and not filled with swarms of college kids. But he didn’t have a good time.

He talked to a couple of women, and they had seemed interested in him, but he couldn’t muster enough interest or energy to make a move on them.

Eventually he went back home, sitting in front of the television by himself, watching sports and drinking beer and wondering when Jill and her date would come home.

If they came back here and ended up in her bedroom, Lucas wasn’t sure what he would do.

Being friends and roommates with Jill was just fine. It was all he could have since he didn’t want what she wanted. He could live with that.

But knowing she was having sex with some other guy in this apartment was more than he could live with.

How the hell had he gotten into this situation in the first place?

He usually slept with women and moved on. He liked it that way. He’d have some vague, pleasant memories of his time with them, and it would never trouble him again.

This was different.

This was... hard.

He scowled at the television as he swallowed down the last of his beer.

It was after ten now. Jill and that guy had had more than enough time for drinks and dinner and dessert.

What the hell were they doing?

Lucas was pretty sure he didn’t want to know.

He sat with his empty bottle of beer for a few minutes until he heard a key turn in the lock.

Every nerve in his body stiffened to alert as the front door opened and Jill stepped inside.

For a moment he hoped she’d gotten rid of the guy, but she hadn’t. He followed her in.

She blinked when she saw him sitting there, and Lucas wondered if she’d expected him to clear out.

He wasn’t going to clear out. He lived here. He was allowed to sit on the couch on a Friday evening even if Jill brought home a date.

“Hey,” she said, her voice a little fluttery. Not her normal tone. “Hal, this is my roommate, Lucas.” She gestured to Lucas. “And this is Hal.”

“Hey, Lucas,” the guy said. Hal. His name was actually Hal. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too.”

Jill looked between Lucas and Hal and seemed frozen for a moment. She was absolutely gorgeous in an odd little dress made of lace and corduroy with those tall boots on and those same high socks on she’d worn when they had sex.

Lucas loved those socks. They made his body clench with lust.

Why the hell was Jill wearing them for some other guy?

Finally she turned to Hal with a trembly smile that wasn’t really like her. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Hal definitely looked like he was eager to stay. He was probably hoping to have Jill and all her blond hair and big eyes and lush curves and gorgeous legs surrounding him in bed.

With a huff, Lucas hauled himself to his feet, fighting a simmering resentment.

And jealousy.

Definitely jealousy.

He carried his empty bottle of beer to the kitchen, dropped it into the recycling, and then opened the refrigerator for another.

He was there just in time to get in Jill’s way.

He hadn’t planned it, but he wasn’t disappointed about it either.

She gave him a covert glare behind the cover of the refrigerator door. He knew how to interpret it. She wanted him to get out of here. She wanted him to leave her alone.

He plopped himself down on a stool at the island with his cold beer and grinned at Hal. “So how was dinner?”

Hal looked slightly taken aback by his overly friendly tone. “Oh. It was fine. What did you think, Jill?”

She offered Hal a beer and then poured a glass of wine for herself. “It was good.” She slanted Lucas another look, but he wasn’t planning to budge. “We went to an Italian place. They make their own homemade pasta.”

“Sounds good.” Lucas swallowed down a gulp of beer. “So what do you do, Hal?”

The conversation went on in a similar manner for fifteen minutes, with Lucas asking a lot of questions, Hal trying to answer them, and Jill shooting Lucas increasingly annoyed looks.

Finally Hal finished his beer and cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I better get going.”

Lucas couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction.

Then he wondered if he was an asshole at heart for being happy about getting rid of the guy when Jill might have liked him.

The thought dampened his pleasure just a little.

Jill walked Hal to the door, and they said a quiet goodbye. Lucas managed not to peer around the corner to see if the guy was kissing her.

When the door finally closed and Jill returned to the kitchen, Lucas let out a breath in relief.

Thank God that guy was gone.

And Jill hadn’t gone to bed with him.

“Asshole,” Jill hissed, slamming down her wineglass on the counter so hard the liquid slopped out over the rim.

“What did I do?”

“You know exactly what you did.” Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was slightly tousled, and she was wearing those high socks that ended on her gorgeous thighs.

Lucas was hit with a wave of lust so strong it almost knocked him out.

Jill wasn’t distracted by any such thing at the moment. She was practically snapping her teeth at him. “You did it on purpose!”

“What did I do?” Lucas knew what he’d done, of course, but he was convinced he had a pretty good case in his defense.

“Oh, stop acting all innocent. You got in the way of my date on purpose.”

“What are you talking about? I live here, don’t I? Aren’t I allowed to watch TV and get a drink from the kitchen?”

“Yes, you’re allowed. But you were getting in the way on purpose. Intimidating him with all your fake friendliness and your... your...”

Genuinely curious now, Lucas raised his eyebrows. “My what?”

“All your shoulders and biceps and everything.”

Lucas glanced down at himself in surprise. He was wearing a T-shirt that fitted normally. Nothing about his arms or shoulders was unusual or inappropriate. “I’m wearing a shirt.”

“I’m not talking about your shirt. I’m talking about...” She waved her hand toward the general vicinity of his torso. “Your shoulders and everything. You’re intimidating to a normal guy.”

“I am?”

“Oh, stop looking smug. It’s just because you don’t have anything to do during the day but work out. But you were sitting there with all your man-ness, and you scared him away. You knew what you were doing.”

Lucas tried not to smile because she was sincerely angry with him, but he couldn’t help but like the way she’d described him.

Man-ness.

“Asshole,” she hissed again.

He clearly hadn’t hidden his expression very well.

“Stop smirking,” she snapped. “I’m serious. You can’t do that. If we’re going to be roommates, you can’t do that again. I’m going to have dates, you know. I’m allowed to bring men home without you hovering around like some sort of alpha-male caveman.”

He sobered at the thought of her bringing a lot more men home. And then he was annoyed by the fact that it bothered him so much.

He was supposed to do nothing but casual relationships.

He wasn’t sure why nothing felt casual with Jill.

“I wasn’t acting like a caveman,” he said. “I was perfectly nice to the guy. It’s not my fault he’s such a wimp that he got scared off by a guy who works out.”

Jill made a frustrated sound in her throat. “He’s not a wimp.”

“Then why did he cut and run over nothing? If he was really into you, he would have stayed.”

“He was into me!”

“Clearly not enough to put up with me hanging around.”

“Oh, you... you... asshole!”

“You said that before. I get it. You think I’m an asshole. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was sitting in a room that I’m allowed to sit in, and Hal’s the guy who ran like a rabbit instead of spending the night with you.”

She was almost shaking now with anger. She opened her mouth to snap back a response but then closed it suddenly. She turned her back to him, took a few deep breaths, and then walked out of the room.

Lucas didn’t like that.

They were in the middle of a perfectly good argument, and she’d just left him hanging.

He followed her to her room, but she closed the door on his face.

“Jill,” he said through the door.

“Go away. If I talk to you anymore, I’m going to bite your head off.”

Ridiculously, that kind of turned him on.

“Jill,” he said again through the closed door.

“I can’t talk to you right now. I’m too mad. We can talk in the morning if you can manage to stop being an asshole.”

Lucas started to object, but he didn’t.

He walked down the hall to his room.

He was all wound up.

All. Wound. Up.

Frustrated and annoyed and turned on and strangely excited.

But there was nothing in the world he could do with the feelings since Jill obviously wasn’t going to let him haul her over his shoulder and carry her to bed.

So he went to take a shower instead.

***

THE NEXT MORNING, LUCAS got up around eight to discover that Michelle and Steve were still in bed, but Jill was already up, drinking coffee in the kitchen and looking at her phone.

They stared at each other over the kitchen island.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. He wasn’t all wound up anymore. He’d stayed awake for half the night, thinking about what had happened and what it meant. He could see very clearly he had indeed been an asshole. “You were right. I was a jerk.”

Her face had been slightly defensive, but it softened at that. “Yeah. You kind of were. I... I know you live here. And you’re allowed to be around and do what you want. I know I can’t expect you to just disappear because... because I might feel uncomfortable when you’re around. But maybe...”

“I won’t get in the way on purpose,” he said, hating the fact that he was saying it, that he meant it, that it would oblige him to behave better in the future even if that meant he’d have to let some other guy go to bed with Jill.

She let out a breath, looking sleepy and ridiculously pretty in her fuzzy pajamas and messy hair. “Thank you. You’re... you’re allowed to bring girls home too. If you want.”

He wondered if she wanted him to. “I know.”

“I’d feel weird about it if you do. I know I would. I’d be kind of... jealous, I think. I’m not trying to be a hypocrite or something. But... but I wouldn’t do anything. If you do.”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

She was a better person than him.

No question about it.

He wondered how she would act if he brought home a woman to have sex with.

He wondered if she would feel as outraged and bristly and mind-numbingly jealous as he had.

He hoped so.

But he wasn’t likely to test it out anytime soon.

He was sure it would change in the future, but for the moment he had no interest in going to bed with anyone but Jill.

***

THAT NIGHT, LUCAS WOKE up in a cold sweat.

He lay in his dark room, breathing raggedly, his eyes wide open as he stared up at the ceiling.

He was wide awake and terrified.

He hadn’t had a dream or a nightmare. Not really. At least not that he could remember. He was just suddenly awake, suddenly in a panic, like two years hadn’t passed since his life had been ripped apart.

When he was capable of moving, he got up and went to the bathroom across the hall. He splashed a lot of cold water on his face. Then he peed and splashed more water on his face.

He didn’t have PTSD. At least he’d never been diagnosed as having it. Two years ago, he’d had six months of physical therapy and counseling until all the doctors had declared he was fully recovered.

He was recovered.

He just didn’t always feel that way.

His family didn’t understand why he’d left his old life behind completely after he was declared well again. No one really understood.

Life didn’t feel the same to him as it had felt before.

He couldn’t take it seriously. He couldn’t take anything seriously.

If nothing mattered that much, then everything was easier. Nothing was painfully bad.

And he wouldn’t have to be terrified like this again.

He left the bathroom and stood in the hall, wearing nothing but his underwear. He stared at Jill’s door, fighting the urge to knock on it, to wake her up, to talk to her.

She would help.

She would make him feel better.

He knew she would.

His heart was still racing, and he was cold deep down. But he would feel better if he could talk to Jill.

But that would mean telling her everything.

She wouldn’t understand either.

She would think he was overreacting. She’d blown up his bam in her mind to such an extent that she would be shocked to hear what it really was.

She thought he’d been a victim of a crime or another similar circumstance. She thought his bam was something horrifying like that.

It wasn’t.

It was just one of those things. Something that could have happened to anyone, anywhere.

That made it worse to Lucas. Not better. But no one would really understand that either.

He had no idea how long he stood in the hall, trying to catch his breath, staring at the closed door to Jill’s bedroom.

Finally he turned around and went back into his room.

He got back into bed, but it was a long time before he was able to go back to sleep.

***

JILL WENT OUT WITH Hal a couple more times in the next few weeks, but she wasn’t as excited about him as she should be.

She didn’t even get excited about kissing him.

She wasn’t anywhere close to wanting to sleep with him.

And she couldn’t help but blame Lucas.

A little.

If he wasn’t so ridiculously hot, she wouldn’t be always comparing other guys to him.

And if he wasn’t so good at sex, she wouldn’t be afraid that no other man would ever measure up.

And if he wasn’t so clever and funny and thoughtful and (sometimes) considerate, she wouldn’t like to hang around him as much as she did.

If he wasn’t her roommate, he wouldn’t be around all the time.

But after three weeks, Hal stopped calling her, and she wasn’t even that disappointed.

For a week after her last date with him, she tried to focus on work—since the big stressful project she’d been working on was finally wrapping up—and not stew too much about Lucas or how he’d hindered her romantic prospects simply by existing.

On the Friday she handed over the project at last, she was relieved and exhausted, and she planned to have a leisurely evening at home. She got takeout from a Chinese restaurant—enough to share if anyone else was around—and bought a good bottle of wine. She even stopped at Tea for Two and bought a box of Carol’s cookies.

She was in a pretty good mood as she entered the apartment.

Only to discover that Michelle and Steve were shouting at each other at the top of their lungs.

Jill wasn’t big on conflict. She liked things cozy. She liked people to get along.

And she certainly wasn’t prepared to be met with a screaming fight as soon as she walked in the door.

She had no idea what the fight was about. They were long past the substance of the argument and were into general denunciations of the other’s wickedness.

They paused briefly when they saw her, and Michelle whispered, “Sorry,” as Jill went into the kitchen to put down her stuff.

But as soon as Jill made it to the hallway, Michelle and Steve were shouting again.

She had no idea where they got the energy.

Her one somewhat passionate argument with Lucas had lasted about two minutes, and she’d had to flee to her room immediately so he wouldn’t see her burst into tears.

When she reached her doorway, Lucas’s door swung open and he looked at her across the threshold.

“You want to get out of here?” he murmured.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breaking in relief at the idea of doing something other than staying here and listening to her friends fight. “Please.”

She ran to use the bathroom quickly, but she didn’t bother to change clothes. So in two minutes she and Lucas were leaving, and Jill let out a breath when she could no longer hear the fight.

“You want some dinner?” Lucas asked, peering at her face.

She felt unreasonably shaky, but she tried to smile. “I guess. I’d brought home Chinese, but...”

“The Chinese will save for tomorrow. I’m hungry. Let’s go ahead and eat.”

She nodded, and after a brief discussion, they walked about a mile to a fairly new shopping center where there was a restaurant that made really good pizza.

They got a table, and Lucas ordered a bottle of wine, and Jill slumped back in her chair.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” She smiled at him again, feeling better, partly because he was being so nice. “I’m just not really used to loud conflict like that. My mom and I never fought. We occasionally snipped at each other but nothing more than that. And I’m worried about Michelle not being happy. And I’m kind of upset about Steve having to move out eventually. And I’m...”

To her embarrassment, a single tear slid down her cheek.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, swiping it away. “I’m just not good with conflict. And I’m so, so tired.”

“Did you get your big project all finished up today like you planned?”

“Yeah. All done. And I met the important deadline, so Patrick was happy. He said I did a good job.”

“Of course you did.”

“And he even apologized for being too grumpy.”

Lucas gave a huff of amusement. “Did he?”

“Yeah. I think Emma, his sister, made him. But still... I feel better about everything. And thank God that project is done.”

The server came with the wine, so they paused for a minute to get their glasses filled and then give their order. Jill couldn’t decide between two different kinds, so Lucas ordered both.

The wine was good. Really good. Her eyebrows arched as she tasted it. “How expensive is this stuff?” she asked.

“Eh. Not too bad. I do like it though.”

“Me too. Are you sure it’s not too expensive? You don’t have a job, you know.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m fine. It’s not too expensive. And you deserve a little celebration after getting through that project.”

She smiled at him.

She must be really tired because the wine was already going to her head.

She drank some more.

And she kept smiling.

***

TWO AND A HALF HOURS later, they were on their way back to the apartment.

They’d finished their bottle of wine, and then Lucas had bought another one. Jill had drunk way too much. She’d also eaten a lot, and Lucas had topped it all off with ordering a chocolate brownie dessert.

All in all, Jill was flying high.

And having trouble walking in a straight line.

Lucas had his arm around her as they walked, most likely to keep her from wandering off into the street. But she liked how it felt. He was big and hard and strong. He had those amazing shoulders, those lovely, toned arms. She liked how his arm felt around her waist.

Like he was taking care of her.

She was giggling over something. It had been a full minute since Lucas had said whatever he’d said that she’d thought was funny, and she really couldn’t remember what it was anymore. But she was still giggling about it.

The evening air was cool and crisp and lovely against her hot skin.

And Lucas had his arm around her.

“I wonder if Michelle and Steve are still fighting,” she said after a while, deciding it was time for her to say something.

“Surely they’ve petered out by now.”

“Maybe. They might be having sex. They have sex a lot after they fight.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said that. It wasn’t something she talked about—certainly not with Lucas.

“Yeah. Hopefully, they’re done with that part too and things are quiet again.”

She gazed up at him with blurry eyes. “Do you ever have sex after you fight?”

He blinked. He’d had a lot to drink too, but he wasn’t in the same condition she was. She knew it. He was in control. She was buzzed enough for that fact to bother her.

She wanted Lucas to be flying just as high as she was.

“It depends on who I fight with,” he said dryly, after a brief hesitation.

“Oh. You don’t have sex with me after we fight.”

“We don’t fight that much.”

That was true. Lucas was a pretty nice guy most of the time, when he wasn’t being an asshole.

“Oh. We can fight more if you want.” This comment made perfect sense in her mind, but she frowned afterward, trying to figure out if that was really what she’d wanted to say.

Lucas chuckled and shifted his arm since she’d started drifting toward the curb. “Fighting with you isn’t one of my aspirations.”

“Oh.”

He tilted his head down and studied her face. “Are you disappointed by that?”

“No. I don’t want to fight with you either.”

She didn’t want to fight.

She wanted to have sex.

And somehow in her fuzzy mind she’d connected fighting and sex.

She thought about that conundrum for a long time until she realized they were standing in front of the door that led up to their place. “We’re here,” she said.

“Yep.” His green eyes were so vivid, so pretty, so warm and strangely soft.

She liked them so much.

“I liked tonight,” she told him.

“Me too.” He lifted a hand and used it to gently brush a piece of hair out of her face.

She appreciated the gesture since the hair had been tickling her.

“Thank you for taking me out,” she told him as serious as she could make herself at the moment.

“You’re welcome.”

“Okay. I’m going up now.”

“All right.” He paused. “Is it all right if I come up too?”

“Oh.” She had to blink several times and take a deep breath before she worked out that he lived in her apartment the same as she did. Of course he needed to come up. “Yes,” she said, pleased she was able to extend such grace. “You can come up. You might need to help me up the stairs. I think...”

“You think what?”

“I think...” She whispered the truth to him. “I think I might be just a little bit drunk.”

He laughed, and she liked the sound of it. She wanted him to laugh again. But first she had to make it up the stairs, and it wasn’t an easy prospect. She kept swaying, and Lucas had to keep his arm around her the whole time.

Not that she minded.

She liked his arm around her.

When they made it up the stairs and into their apartment, she gave a little cheer in victory. Then she remembered Michelle and Steve might be there, so she gave the victory cheer in a whisper instead.

Lucas was standing there smiling in a way she really liked.

She smiled back.

They stared at each other for what felt like a long time. Then Lucas gave himself a little shake and moved farther into the apartment.

“Michelle and Steve don’t seem to be here,” he said after looking around.

“That’s okay then.” She’d leaned over and was unzipping her boots, sighing in pleasure as she stepped out of them. “We can have some more fun.”

“I don’t know about fun. You probably want to go to bed,” Lucas said.

She frowned at him. “Why would I go to bed?”

“Because you’re just a little bit drunk.”

“Oh.” She blinked. Then nodded. Then blinked again. “I guess I am. You’re very observ-observant, you know.”

“That I am.” He sounded like he was smiling, but she was blurry again and couldn’t quite tell. She let him lead her into her bedroom, and the sight of her bed gave her an idea.

She turned toward him and wound her arms around his neck. “I think we should have a little fun,” she said in what was supposed to be a conspiratorial whisper.

Lucas’s body seemed to get very tense. She noticed it particularly.

“What do you say?” she asked him, rubbing her breasts against him. She liked how it felt. She liked how he felt. She liked everything about him.

He made a choked sound and took a step back. “I don’t think we should be having that kind of fun right now.”

“Why not?” She stuck out her lip to show him she wasn’t happy about things.

“Because when you’re thinking clearly, that isn’t something you want.”

She grabbed for him again, sliding her hand down his lovely firm chest to his lovely firm belly and then even lower.

Something else was very firm, and she really liked the feel of it.

Lucas grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from the front of his pants. “Damn, baby, you’re going to kill me. You can’t do that.”

“But I want to—”

“You might want to now, but I don’t think you want to for real. So we’re not going to have that kind of fun tonight. Why don’t you get in bed?” His voice sounded slightly rough, strained.

With a little whimper, she flopped down onto her bed fully dressed. “I don’t have my pajamas on.”

He went to her dresser and opened the top drawer where she kept her pajamas.

“I want the pink ones,” she told him.

He found the pink ones and carried them over to her, and she pulled her little baby doll dress over her head and then got rid of her bra so she could put the pajamas on.

“Oh fuck,” Lucas muttered, turning his back to her.

She blinked at him, wondering why he was all tense again. But she was too fuzzy to figure it out.

Her pajamas were fuzzy too, so they seemed to match her.

She got them on and stretched out on her bed. “I’m done,” she told him so he could turn back around.

She stared up at him. The edges of his face and body faded into the dim light of the room. “I’m going to bed now.”

“Good. That sounds like a good plan.”

“Are you going to bed too?”

“Probably. I’ll have to take a shower first.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t figure that out, so she let it pass. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You sure you don’t want to come to bed with me?”

He made another one of those choked sounds. “I do, baby. Of course I do. But I can’t tonight.”

“Okay,” she said with a sigh, closing her eyes and thinking sleep sounded pretty good. Almost as good as having fun with Lucas had sounded.

She thought she heard him leaving the room when she remembered something else. “Lucas?”

“Yeah?”

She opened her eyes and saw he had stopped just in front of her door. “What was your bam?”

He paused for a really long time. Then, “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Okay.”

Her head was spinning now, so she closed her eyes again.

She wanted to know what his bam was.

She wanted to know everything about him.

She wanted to go to bed with him.

She wanted a lot of things.

But right now she just wanted to go to sleep.

So she did.