Pamela waited until Bryan disappeared into the bathroom before she slumped against the bar and released her pent-up nervousness in an audible sigh.

This was hell. She wasn’t entirely sure which of the nine circles she currently resided in—either lust or greed—but it was hell nonetheless.

Not only did she have to continue the let’s-get-me-laid charade, she also had to pretend she wasn’t sliding headfirst into deeper feelings for a man who’d made it clear he was off limits. She’d even stooped to the low of bringing up her late husband in the hope the tragic topic would break the early descent into puppy love.

The diversion hadn’t worked in the slightest. The conversation had only achieved additional respect for a man who seemed to have more layers than puff pastry.

He’d listened to her. He’d comforted her with soft, simple words. And when the conversation became too emotional, he’d shut it down in typical Brute fashion, which made the depression instantaneously vanish.

Now, leaving wasn’t an option. Being alone in a car with him was too much of a temptation to her diluted sanity.

She wanted Bryan.

She wanted Brute.

She wanted whatever she could extract from the big grizzly bear of a man and didn’t care about the consequences.

“Hey, sugar.”

She glanced from her empty glass to find another flannelette-wearing cowboy at her side. He was broad, tall, and tanned, with an uber smirk to boot.

“You look like you need another drink.”

She gave a false smile. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

He inclined his head. “That you are, but I insist.” He knocked his knuckles on the bar. “Bartender, get this pretty lady a glass of bubbles.”

Bubbles?

“I, um…” That went against rule five-hundred and fifty-five in the Brute’s Fuck Buddy Guidebook—a potential lover should nail your drink order before he nails you.

A mini bottle of champagne cracked open before her, the contents poured into a slim flute. She should’ve declined with more enthusiasm. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve if numbing mindlessness wasn’t a mere drink away. Tomorrow, she’d pay for mixing drinks. For now, she’d take whatever relief she could get.

“Here you go.” He lifted the glass from the bar and handed it over. “Something sweet for someone sweet.”

She cleared her throat. “If you came here looking for timid and cute, I’m not your girl.”

“You’re the naughty type?” He eyed her with lust-filled appreciation. “Tonight is my lucky night.”

A laugh escaped. She couldn’t help it. In a game of hot and cold, this guy was so far from getting lucky he’d need a snow suit.

“I can’t believe a woman as fine as yourself would be out on her own.”

“She’s not.” Bryan came up behind her. “Take a hike, buddy.”

“Bryan.” She snapped her head around, scowling. “You don’t have to be rude.”

“My apologies. I didn’t realize this was the type of guy you were looking for.”

Was intoxication playing tricks on her, or did he seem unmistakably jealous? Her stomach flipped, and all the liquid she’d consumed went with it in a nauseating roll.

“Hold on a minute.” The cowboy held up his hands. “She was sitting here on her own. I didn’t know you two were together.”

“We’re not,” they spoke in unison.

“Right.” The guy retreated a step. “I guess looks can be deceiving.”

Heat crept up her throat, soaking through her scarf.

“We’re leaving.” Bryan stared at her, demanding compliance.

Shit. He must have finally cracked the code on her not-so-subtle feelings.

“Sugar,” the cowboy started. “If you’re in trouble—”

“Trouble?” He thought she was in danger? From Bryan? Okay, so maybe the brute was clenching his fists and breathing heavier than normal, but that was only because she’d broken her promise not to fall for the commitment-phobic jerk. “No. I’m okay. This is what he’s like. All bark. No bite.”

Bryan growled. Actually growled.

“We’re leaving,” he repeated. “Unless you want to hang around with a guy who doesn’t give you the respect of finding out what you’re drinking. But, hey—” He shrugged. “—I’m sure he’s a keeper. You’ve got great taste in men, after all.”

She scoffed and downed half the champagne in one fast swallow. He itched for a fight—she could see it in the flash of anger in those deep blue eyes. She had no plan to leave him unsatisfied.

“My taste in men shouldn’t be any of your business.” She shoved from her stool and wobbled with the landing.

“Fucking hell.” He flung out a hand to catch her.

“Don’t speak to me like that.” She slapped his hold away and got in his face, allowing his dark, masculine scent to mess with her senses.

“Then stop doing stupid shit.”

She heard the words, and the only thing that sunk in was his protection. His authority. His claim for territory. No. The alcohol played tricks on her.

She stepped back and turned to Mr. Cowboy. “Sorry ’bout that.” She snatched her clutch from the bar and put the champagne flute in its place. “Thanks for the drink.”

The guy’s eyes widened. “You’re leaving with him?”

Yes. No. The answer didn’t matter because she couldn’t think without fresh air.

She hustled outside, her short, sharp toe steps making the support of her stiletto heels unpredictable.

“What the hell are you doing now?” Bryan followed, keeping a thankful yard of distance between them on the sidewalk.

“Leaving. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

His fury tickled the back of her neck in the form of a snarl. She hated that noise. Hated it so much her pussy contracted and released enough times to mimic an orgasm.

“When it comes to you, I get nothing I want.”

His retort hit her like a slap across the face. She swung around, teetering again, her heels producing the same stability as cooked spaghetti. “Then what do you want, Bryan? Tell me.”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest, making his jacket gape and the material of his shirt temptingly tighten over the muscles beneath.

Oh, dear God.

The entire world conspired against her attempts to dislike him. Every time she erected blocks to combat the attraction, he’d shove them down again in one mighty Hulk smash.

“I want you to fucking listen.” His breath came in exhausting huffs. “I’m trying to show you how to find a guy who deserves you. Someone who’s going to give a shit about what you want. And the minute I turn my back you’re hooking up with Cowboy Bill.”

“Hooking up?” Hooking up? “He offered to buy me a drink. I declined. And he didn’t take no for an answer. I didn’t even take a sip of the champagne until you came back and inspired the need for alcoholism.”

He glared, those blue irises harsh with menace.

“Come on.” She sighed. “What’s this really about?”

“You know what this is about.” The words grated through perfect teeth, across lush, smooth lips.

She wanted to nod and confirm that, yes, this was about feelings neither one of them could ignore. This was about something more than friendship or sex or the Vault. This was about sparks and connection and heart-clenching emotion.

“This is about needing a demonstration assistant,” he snarled. “That’s all this has ever been.”

Her nose tingled, throat pinched. “I know that.” But she hadn’t. Not really. She’d tried to forget. She’d ignored the entire purpose of them being together while becoming overrun with the allure of romance.

Again.

This was Lucas on repeat.

“Good,” he snapped.

“Great,” she mimicked.

He approached, getting in her face. His nostrils flared, his lip curled. “Fucking perfect.”

She’d never wanted to kiss him more. The thrill of having his beard scratch against her mouth, her neck, her breasts. Her heart thundered. Her throat pinched tighter. She whirled on her toes and escaped in the opposite direction, the click, click, click of her heels a panicked staccato.

“God, I wish I knew why you were such a grumpy jerk.” She approached the edge of the building and turned into the darkened parking lot, remaining close to the brickwork in case she needed the support.

“Slow down. You’re going to wind up on your ass.”

“Stop it, okay?” She glared over her shoulder. “Stop the back and forth. The Jekyll and Hyde. The kindness and severity. I’m sick of it.” Her ankle rolled, the sharp twinge of pain shooting up the outside of her leg. She tilted, the threat of falling on her butt replaced with something even more threatening—his hold.

He grabbed her, tugging her against his strong chest and lunging her into the brickwork. She was boxed in, caught between two layers of cold sterility. But that wasn’t what stared back at her. Those blue eyes weren’t barren. She could see everything peering down at her—his affection, his lust, his hopes for the future. Then, in a blink, they disappeared.

“Jesus Christ.” He held her upright, keeping her caged. “I never should’ve brought you here.”

Regret took over his expression. Annoyance, too. Her delusional fairytale of what they’d shared became tarnished by the frustration staring down at her.

“I’m sorry.”

His brows pulled tight. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” A breath shuddered from her lungs. “I feel like I need to apologize. I’ve never offended anyone as much as I seem to offend you.” She had to keep talking, if only to make sure he remained nestled against her, his warmth finally sinking in. They’d never been this close. Not emotionally. “I guess I lost sight of this being about your job. I began to think we were friends.”

His body relaxed.

No, it deflated. His shoulders slumped, his face fell. “You don’t offend me, Ella.”

“Then what is it?” she whispered.

He turned his head away, the tension building in his frame until he loomed over her as he focused on the street.

“Bryan?” She reached out, her fingertips tingling the closer she came to his beard-covered cheek. Her palm slid over the coarse hairs, and everything inside her crumpled. She’d never touched him. Not like this. Not with her heart in her throat and her feelings exposed in the brief connection.

She guided his face back to hers and pleaded with her eyes. “What’s this all about?”

The hardness of his jaw became more defined. “It’s about wanting to fuck you. I’ve gone insane for the last five hours, fighting the need to get you under me. And the five days before that.” He stepped forward, squeezing her tighter between the hard wall of the building and the harder wall of his chest. “Even before that, Ella. Since the first night I touched you in the fucking locker room.”

Hope took the reins and ran. Everything inside her ignited, emotions and body parts all combusting to cause a mass of burning, tingling flesh.

She had to kiss him. Had to taste those lips and feel them devastating hers. And that was exactly what they’d do—devastate her. Destroy her. Because one passionate kiss would be so much more than she’d had from her husband.

He rocked into her, the solid length of his shaft making itself known against her pubic bone. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. All she could do was become ensnared as his mouth called her name like a siren’s song.

She smashed her lips to his and immediately drowned in the intensity of his reciprocation. His hand flew to her hair, sliding over her scalp, holding her close. His arm wrapped around her waist, squeezing life back into her. Every part of him touched her. Every inch of her body remained at his mercy, while his tongue parted her lips and delved deep.

He took over. Made her hyperventilate. All with one kiss.

With only his beard, lips, and teeth.

When he pulled back, they both panted into the small space between them. “We should get out of here.”

She nodded.

His hand left her hair, snaked down her arm, and entwined with her fingers. He didn’t acknowledge the intimacy, didn’t even look her in the eye anymore. Instead, he turned and led her to the car, not stopping until they stood at the passenger door, his free hand poised on the handle.

He remained close, frozen against her, as if the world had stopped for them to have this moment. At least that was how it felt, until comprehension dawned.

“You can’t drive, can you?”

He released her hand and wiped a rough palm over his mouth. “I’ve had too much to drink.”

He remained pressed against her, the teasing torment of her feelings flickering between them like rapidly igniting sparks. She tried to think of a sensible way out of this situation. Something that wouldn’t leave her broken tomorrow. But want and need fried those rational thoughts, leaving her alone with the chemical imbalance driving her to clutch his shirt and pull him closer.

“Do you want to catch a cab?” She lifted her clutch over her shoulder and placed it on the roof of his car.

A lifetime of racing heartbeats measured the seconds they remained close, the intoxication rapidly leaving her system in a passion-induced detox.

“You know I don’t.” His touch returned to her hip. “Not yet.”

The pulse of his dick nestled against her. The thickness, the length, made her salivate. She couldn’t budge. It wasn’t the inescapable cage of his arms. It was his nearness. His proximity. The promise of more.

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” he asked, his breath drifting over her cheek, inspiring exhilaration, goose bumps, and nausea in overlapping doses.

She was entirely wrecked by this man.

“Are you sure you want to finish this here?” He nuzzled into her hair, his nose teasing her neck, his beard scratching her skin. He gripped her chin, guiding her gaze to his penetrating eyes while his thigh parted hers, his weight pinning her to the car.

“Yes.” The word was a breathy exhale. “Here. Now.”

He ground into her, tearing a whimper from her throat. He was already so close to fucking her, a mere unbuckle of his belt and the raise of her dress. She could sense how cataclysmic the penetration would be. How perfect. But… “I’m scared this isn’t going to end well.”

She needed his reassurance. Craved it as much as she craved his cock.

“Doesn’t matter. We both know this is inevitable,” he countered, gripping her dress.

She couldn’t stop him. There was no will. Her body gave her no choice.

All she could do was stare into that fierce face as he focused on her with pure ownership and lifted her hem. Inch by inch, the tight material crawled up her body, exposing her flesh with agonizing lethargy. The cool night air seeped into her thighs, her hips, her sex. And still, those eyes pinned her, reading the reactions she tried to hide.

He released the fabric to bundle at her waist, then slid his hands down her bare skin, searing the flesh he touched.

“You weren’t lying about not wearing underwear.”

“I have no reason to lie to you.” She could’ve laughed at the hypocrisy. She’d been lying to him all night. This afternoon, too. She’d lied about her feelings. About her intent. She’d lied and lied and lied. Even to herself. “This dress doesn’t look anywhere near as sexy with visible panty lines.” She lied again. The lack of underwear had been to tease him. To see if he was affected by her the way she was by him.

“Well…” He grinned. “I’ve never appreciated honesty more than I do right now.” He gripped her chin, demanding her attention. A gentle fingertip glided over her tingling lower lip, the connection more painful and emotional than anything she could’ve expected.

Her insides waged war. Half of her screamed to take all she could get. The other ached to tell him what another kiss would mean. To make him understand. Even though nobody else ever had. Not even her mother or Kim.

This time when he leaned in, she held her breath, waiting for his next move. Those tempting lips approached, only to veer at the last second and plague her cheek with the burn. “I could’ve sworn you weren’t the type to fuck in a parking lot,” he whispered against her skin. “But you have a habit of surprising me.”

His beard grazed each place of impact, along her jaw, then further, to the sensitive spot below her ear. She wanted to hate the misplaced sentiment. Wanted to hate him in general. But those light kisses turned into nibbles, the nibbles transforming into bites and sucks, until he ravaged her neck with such erotic efficiency she clung to his shoulders for more.

“Take off the scarf.” He ground into her, his erection thick and pulsing between them.

“If I take it off, are you going to leave more marks?”

“Without a doubt.”

Oh, God. She couldn’t have asked for a better response.

She slid the silk from her neck. The delicate glide inspired goose bumps. Her skin erupted in a mass of tingles. She held the material out to him and pretended it didn’t affect her when he placed his hand over hers, stealing the scarf from her grip.

“Now, open your mouth.”

She recoiled. “Excuse me?”

“Trust me, you’re going to want something in that mouth to stop you crying out.”

“I’ll be quiet.”

“Really?” The silk fell to his side while his free hand skimmed the trim patch of curls at the apex of her thighs. With a quick slide of his fingers, he grazed her clit and parted her folds, teasing her slit. She moaned with the sharp infusion of pleasure. The noise was long, low and entirely out of control.

“Do you want to rethink that promise?” He pulsed the tip of two fingers at her entrance, eyeing her with confidence while he worked his magic.

Her chest exploded, the shrapnel shooting to her breasts, her abdomen, her core.

“How do you think you’re going to react once I slide my cock in here?”

He raised the scarf and a confident brow at the same time.

Damn him. For everything.

“Fine.” She jutted her chin, waiting.

His eyes blazed as he removed his fingers from between her legs to place the material in her mouth. She bit down while he crossed it behind her neck, then guided it forward to hang over her chest.

“Now give me your wrists.”

She shook her head, working the material from her mouth. “No.”

“Don’t trust me?

“No. I don’t. Not out here. Not when I’m already vulnerable enough.”

A flash of rejection marred his features. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Ella. Not like that.”

Not. Like. That.

Just in every other way imaginable.

He worked the silk between her lips and tightened the knot behind her neck. “There. Pretty as a picture and even more inviting now that you can’t talk.”

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” The words were mumbled into utter incoherence.

“What was that?”

“Fuck you.”

He smirked. “You’ll be doing that soon enough.”

A hand glided between them, those talented fingers rediscovering her entrance, spreading her folds. This time, her accompanying whimper barely sounded, smothered by delicate material.

“That’s better.” He bent forward. “Now I won’t have to hold back.”

She would’ve hated if he had. She couldn’t wait to see his mindlessness. His restraint and subsequent surrender.

“I love how you’re always wet for me. Are you like this for everyone?”

She shook her head. No. Nobody but him.

“Good.” He trailed two fingers around in circles, not stopping the motion as he retrieved a wallet from his back pocket, flipped the leather open, and rested it against his hip to pull a condom from the notes section. Once he had what he wanted, he dropped the wallet to the ground, his cards, coins, and notes scattering across the asphalt.

He didn’t seem to notice. Didn’t seem to care.

He placed the condom packet between his teeth and unbuckled his belt one-handed. The clink, clink, clink of metal on metal broke the quiet night air, followed by the grate of his zipper. She watched, her breath catching as he shoved at his waistband and fisted his erect length in his palm.

She was really doing this. Really shoving herself into a situation that could only end in heartbreak. Again.

But who cared?

She’d recovered before.

She reached out, trailing her nails along his shaft, then gripped the base with a tight squeeze.

“Fuck.” The curse was guttural, defenseless, and entirely perfect.

Behind the scarf, she smiled.

He released his dick and spat the condom packet into his palm. “So, you want me to blow in your hand, is that it?” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back. The worst part was his fingers sliding from between her thighs. “Come on, sweetheart. You need to let me suit up. Neither one of us want to see me finish like this.”

Maybe she did.

Maybe it was best for them both.

He was under her control, susceptible to her touch, just like she was to his. The knowledge made her attraction all the more punishing. He was so beautiful, his face a mix of tension and control as moonlight beamed down on those harsh features.

“Ella.” The way he said her nickname—the plea, the passion, the lust. “This isn’t what you want… You need my hands on your ass… My mouth on your neck… My cock in your pussy.”

Her lips burned with dryness she couldn’t lick away. All she could do was bite down on silk and whimper.

“You’ve got five seconds,” he murmured. “Four…”

She trailed her touch to the head of his shaft and rubbed the moisture beading at his slit.

“I lied.” He gripped her wrist and dragged her hand away. “You’re done.” His other arm snaked behind her back, lifting her off the ground. “Legs around my waist.”

She complied without thought, her ass sliding against the side of the car, his dick poised at her entrance as he worked the protection over his length in efficient strokes.

All too soon, he was ready and looking at her as if asking permission.

“Do it,” she mumbled around the gag. “Just do it.”

His jaw clenched. “You sure?”

Goddamn him and his sweet concern.

She threw her hands around his neck and sank her nails deep. If those scars weren’t enough to convince him to hurry, the buck of her hips should’ve been.

He slid his hand to the top of his shaft, working the tip back and forth along her entrance. She didn’t know where to train her gaze—on his impressive cock, his muscled chest, or those penetrating eyes now framed by strands of loose hair.

He blinked at her, sweat beading his brow as he snaked his tongue out to moisten his gorgeous lips. She became lost in the moment. Lost in him.

He thrust home in one long, punishing shove of his hips, stealing all the breath from her lungs. All the thoughts from her mind. There was only friction. Only pleasure.

She cried out, her head falling back, her fingers clenching tight into his neck. The heat of him enveloped her chest, the weight pressing deep. His hips rocked in a slow, torturous rhythm and she whimpered with each undulation, the sound ringing louder and louder in her ears.

“Hey.” He placed his mouth a breath away from hers. “Keep it quiet, sweetheart. You’re not going to find a friendly audience in this shoddy neighborhood.”

Her breathing quickened with her jerky nod and she bit around the silk to sink her teeth into her lower lip. She wiggled, trying to seat her ass on the edge of the window and slipped.

“It’s okay.” He gripped her tight. “I’ve got you.”

Did he? Really?

Physically, he was there. But emotionally, she wasn’t sure he existed.

“Fuck.” He thrust. Again and again. Each pleasure-induced pulse followed with a panted breath against her lips. “What are you doing to me?”

She closed her eyes, wishing she could close her ears, too, because his words were sinking into her soul, never to be removed. So damn good… Drive me crazy… Fuck… Best damn thing…She wanted to scream for him to stop and beg for this to never end.

He kissed her neck, her shoulder, then the deep V of her dress, marking the curves of her breasts with lips and tongue and beard. She’d never been more alive. More hopeful. She wanted to share the world with this man and believed he craved the same thing. Maybe not on the surface, but deep down. Deep, deep down. Almost within reach.

“I want to do everything to you.” He thrust hard. Over and over, each undulation growing in force.

“Yes.” She gasped around her gag. “More.”

She was close, already. He had a way of knowing her. Of sensing where to touch. Where to focus.

He grazed her nipples through her dress. The first time was too light, the second too hard. The third and every time after was utter perfection. He was Goldilocks. Testing everything. Finding the right fit. He even had the hair to prove it.

“What are you smiling at?” His nose brushed hers.

She couldn’t explain, even if she was physically able.

“I love your smile.” He nuzzled her cheek, his beard leaving its mark. “Prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her grin vanished, pure shock taking its place. Oh, God. Her heart stopped. It didn’t start again—just remained idle as his mouth trekked her mouth, finally coming to rest on the corner of her lips.

“What?” He pulled back. “What is it? Have I done something wrong?”

He kept compounding her awe. Kept showing a side of himself even more alluring than what she’d already fallen for.

He froze, those sexy undulations ceasing to exist. “Ella?”

She worked the scarf from her mouth, no longer caring if she drew a crowd because she couldn’t go a moment longer without his kiss. “You’ve done everything right.”

She shoved a hand through his hair and dragged his face to hers, stealing his lips. Their connection ignited, the mix of tongues and teeth and renewed thrusts building to a crazy intensity that had every inch of her in love with every inch of him.

He kissed her as hard as his cock fucked her. He worshipped her just as sweetly, too. His touch was a fine contrast to all the slamming body parts.

“You’re going to make me come.” She spoke into his mouth, pulling his hair.

“I fucking hope so.”

Her pussy contracted around his length, tiny spasms quickly building to impending bliss. “Bryan…”

“I got you.”

He did. He really did.

She came undone, the whimpered noises building in her throat, only to be smothered by his mouth. He continued to kiss her. To love her like nobody had ever loved her.

“Shit.” His fingers dug into her ass, marking flesh she never wanted to heal. He pistoned his hips, extending her orgasm as he came, thrust after torturous thrust.

He bit and sucked and licked. Bucked and caressed and squeezed.

Her world became one mass of tingling sensation. Then just as quickly, it faded.

Starbursts turned into twinkles. Pulses lessened to twinges. She pulled back, panting into the night air while his rhythm lessened to a slow dance.

She slumped against his shoulder, his scent filling her lungs, his sweat coating her cheek.

One moment, bliss conquered. The next, the hard weight of reality made her numb. She hadn’t merely fallen a few steps for this man—she’d toppled down a slope the size of Everest.

“Ella,” he whispered into her neck, a hint of regret tinging his voice.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to know the harshness inevitably due to follow all the sexy sweetness she’d received. “Mmm?”

“I’m sorry this had to end.”

Her heart swelled as she worked the tight silk from around her neck. “Had to end? What do you mean?”

He spoke in past tense, like this was already over. As if it had been a foregone conclusion that they would share a monumentally deep connection, then wave each other goodbye.

He settled her on her feet and stepped back, frowning. “You knew this was the end, right?”

Her eyes seared, threatening to betray her.

“Ella?” His voice turned into a warning. “You knew this game was over once we fucked.”

She blinked and blinked, trying to hide her cluelessness while he righted his clothing.

“I told you from the start. I tell everyone from the start.”

“Yeah.” She swallowed. Licked her lips. “I knew. I just…” She tugged down the hem of her dress and snatched her clutch from the top of the car. “I didn’t—” She clamped her mouth shut and inched away, taking close, cautious steps.

“Wait.” He reached out and the connection of his hand missed its mark. “I thought you understood. You spoke about this not ending well. I made sure you wanted to finish this here. Now. I asked you, Ella. I thought we were both on the same page.”

She hadn’t even been in the same book.

She’d momentarily forgotten his rules and regulations, too blinded by the dreamy thoughts of what could be. She’d made herself believe that something special was a possibility. Just like she had with Lucas.

“We were,” she lied with a jerky nod. “We are.”

“Then why are you looking at me like…”

Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.

“Why are you backing away from me?” he amended.

“Because that’s what you want.” She stopped, commanding her feet to remain in place even though she itched to kick off her heels and sprint. “I’m giving you space. I know how much you hate clingy women.”

He winced, and for the briefest second she expected him to tell her to come back into his arms.

Yet again, she was wrong.

Why did she keep getting this so wrong? She pinned her hopes on love when it was nowhere in sight. She continued to fall for men who had no intention of falling for her.

“Did you expect this to turn into something more?” His jaw tensed as his hands stabbed through his hair. “I can’t fucking read you.”

“No,” she lied and scrambled to come up with solid reasoning. “I just didn’t think you’d be fucking me one minute and kicking me to the curb the next.” She backtracked, each step bringing more necessary space. “But I get it. You made your position clear. And I certainly don’t want to be classified as one of your groupies.”

“Fuck.” His curse rang through every inch of the parking lot, startling her. “Just stop.” His hands fell to his sides. “I don’t want you to be pissed at me.”

“Why does it matter?” Her question held too much heartache, the weakness ringing in her ears. “You know I want to cancel my Vault membership. After tonight, you’ll never see me again. So, who gives a shit if I’m pissed?”

He clenched his teeth. “I do, okay? I want you back at the club. I want to help you find someone.”

“No, thank you.” Not when she wanted that someone to be him. “Your help tonight was enough.”

He stepped toward her and froze when the crunch of plastic sounded under his sole. “Shit.” He crouched to pick up his wallet and the scattered credit cards. “Look, Ella, I’ve got a truckload of bullshit on my shoulders. My family is fucked. The guys at work are on my back about the argument we had at the club…”

“And the last thing you need is what? Me causing you problems?” When had she become a liability instead of an asset for his demonstration?

His lips parted, but an answer hovered out of reach. Everything hovered out of reach. If only she had the heart to stretch a little further. To find the perfect words to make him realize. To do something, anything, to make him wake up and see the possibilities right in front of him.

“You’re a great guy, Bryan,” she whispered. “But I deserve better than this.”

He scoffed, his hand paused on a dirty business card, his hair framing his gorgeous face. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t move. “Ain’t that the truth.” His voice was barely audible, the softness far more punishing than if he’d growled at her.

He sat back on his haunches, those brilliant eyes hitting her with feigned sincerity. “What a fucking mess, right?”

She slowly nodded through the disbelief. “Yeah…”

What else could she say? She wasn’t going to stand here and argue with him while her heart slowly bled out. “I’m going to catch a cab.” A chill took over her skin, sinking deeper to penetrate bone. She wanted to hate him and couldn’t. Wanted to stop adoring him and failed at that, too.

“Wait.” He rushed to pick up more of his scattered belongings. “Let me get all this shit first and we can leave together.” He snatched at the coins, notes, and credit cards strewn across the asphalt. “Give me a second.”

“No. You want this to end now. At least let me have the dignity of walking away.”

“You can, after I get you home safely.”

The concern was a weighty sucker-punch. He cared about her, but not enough to ditch his stupid rules. “I’ve been single a long time. I’m sure I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Ella.”

The word tore her apart—her skin, her ribs, her heart. She gave him one last look, taking in all the severity framed by pure gorgeousness and turned on her heels. “I’ve told you before, that’s not my name.”