After a moment he snatched the keys out of my hand and went ahead, stepping around Reece. Mal went inside, closing the door (not slamming it, thank god).

Reece offered me a stiff smile. “This is awkward.”

What an understatement. I sat down beside him, resting my elbows on my knees. “Nice flowers.”

“They’re for you.” He handed them over, the scent sweet and heady. He didn’t meet my eyes.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“I was worried about you.”

The statement sat there like an accusation. I didn’t know what to say. Emotion had never been my strong point. I was woefully unprepared for this mix of sadness and guilt and whatever the f**k else he’d bought in on his boot heels. Mom had taught me a long time ago to play it safe and keep your mouth shut.

“You two worked things out,” he said.

“Yes.” On the other hand, my mom was a beyond-shitty role model. Reece deserved better. “What’s going on here?”

“I got to thinking about things. About us.” He shoved a hand through his hair, pushing back the floppy fringe. I’d always adored the way he did that, the accompanying toss of his head. But my heart didn’t roll over and give it up to him. Not like it did for Mal. Reece had waited too long.

“Us?” I prompted, both angry and bewildered.

His smile was far from happy. He nodded toward the upper floor. “Thought he was gone.”

“So did I. Apparently, I misunderstood.”

“Guess that’s good for you. Think it’ll last?” His voice wasn’t unkind exactly. But the question garnered an immediate reaction.

I sucked in a breath, an honest answer eluding me. My happy-sex high hadn’t dissipated enough for brutal honesty, not with Mal waiting upstairs. My mind didn’t want to know. Mom had always said love made you stupid. Guess I hadn’t learned that lesson yet after all. “I don’t know. But I hope so.”

It was still relatively early but the building sat in silence. Our voices barely made a dint.

Reece rose to his feet, moving slowly like he’d been hit. “I’m going to go. See you tomorrow.”

“Reece,” I said, my voice tight and high. Something was breaking right there beside me and like so much lately, I didn’t think I could fix it. I couldn’t give Reece what he’d finally decided he just might want. “I’m sorry.”

He hung his head. “It’s my fault, Anne. I was an asshole. I was too stupid to see what was right in front of my eyes until it was too late.”

I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He waited a moment, lips skewed with disappointment perhaps. Then he started moving.

“Night.” He jogged down the stairs, taking them two at a time, obviously eager to get gone.

“Bye.”

I sat there, holding my flowers, staring into space. I just needed a moment to get my head together. The world was so strange. Nothing made sense. A minute later Mal came out and sat down beside me. He leaned over, sniffed at the bouquet. His hands bashed out a beat against his thighs, but he said nothing. Finger tapping seemed to mean restless or busy thinking things out. This savage piece of percussion was something altogether different.

“Reece left,” I said, breaking the silence.

“Mm.”

“This has been a strange day,” I said, quite possibly making the understatement of the century.

“Strange good or strange bad?”

“Both.”

“Mm.” He grabbed the back of his neck, sucked in a deep breath. “You breaking up with me here or what?”

My head shot around. “You want to break up?”

He didn’t respond. For a minute or more, I said nothing and neither did he. We had apparently entered into some messed-up contest of wills. When I gave him a questioning look, he simply raised a brow, waiting me out.

“I couldn’t just leave him sitting here. He’s my friend.”

Mal jerked his chin.

“Was I supposed to let you two arm wrestle over me or something? Because that was never going to happen.”

“We screwed and then you sent me on my way with a pat on the head.” The low, cold way he said it didn’t help at all.

“No,” I answered, matching his tone of voice. “Come on, Mal. You know that’s not what happened. I sent Reece on his way. You I asked to wait in my home. To give me a chance to speak to him.”

He stared at me and I stared straight back.

“Don’t do this,” I said.

“God!” He scrubbed at his face with his hands, growling in frustration. “I f**king hate being jealous. Hate it.”

“Tell me about it.” I threw up my hands in equal frustration. “You are aware that a healthy portion of the vagina-owning population wants to do you? Don’t even get me started about the penis-wielding people, because there’s quite a few of them into you as well.”

“The shit you say …” He sputtered out a laugh. “Fuck.”

The storm seemed to be over, thank god. I leaned my head on his shoulder, needing to get closer. Happily, he let me.

“I don’t usually fight with other people,” he said, rubbing his cheek against the top of my head. “In the band, I usually keep the guys from ripping into each other over stupid shit. Tell a joke, get ’em smiling again.”

“You’re the peacekeeper. But you were ready to rip into Ben the other night.”

“About you. You’re turning out to be kind of a mind f**k for me, pumpkin.”

I frowned.

“Not saying you mean to be.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

We sat in silence. Eventually, he lifted the flowers out of my arms, stood, and headed down the stairs. The only noise the entire time was the soft thud of his shoes on the worn wooden steps. Carefully, he placed the flowers on Mrs. Lucia’s doorstep, before returning to sit beside me. A statement had been made by confiscating those flowers, but what exactly did it mean? That was the question. Mal Ericson was quite the mind f**k himself. And he went on tour in a couple of days. It’d be foolish of me to ignore this oh-so-salient fact. I tugged at the buckles on my boots, all agitated. Too many emotions were stirred up inside of me.

He did that.

“When I was sitting up there, waiting for you, a couple of things occurred to me,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Well, you’re my girlfriend for real now.”

I stopped breathing for a moment, thrown. “I think I needed to hear you say that.”

“You have been for a while. Didn’t mean for you to be, but you are. I just have to get used to it.”

Of course, when he put it like that I sort of wanted to physically hurt him. Instead, I sat and waited to see where he was going with this.

“Don’t get mad,” he said. “Just stating a fact.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Liar. See, now this is why we should have gone to counseling when I suggested it right at the start.”

“What?” I scrunched up my nose. “When did that happen?”

“Day after I moved in, when we were sexting.”

“We weren’t sexting, we were just texting. You said you wanted to get a dog too, if I recall correctly. So I really didn’t think you were serious about counseling.”

The slow curl of his lips made something hot and delicious unfurl deep in my stomach. “Pumpkin, I’m always serious when it comes to you. Even when I’m messing around, I’m still serious as shit. Whatever you need, whatever I have to do. It’s been that way since we met. Haven’t you noticed yet? We’re f**king destined or something. I can’t help myself. It’s pathetic, really.”

“Huh.” I stuffed my hands beneath my thighs, giving his words a moment to sink in. “That’s what you figured out waiting upstairs?”

“Yep.” He shuffled closer, pressing his hip to mine. “Think about it. Things were shit and then I met you at the party and you amused me. I wanted more time with you and then I saw Ev’s side boob and Davie threw me out so I had to move in with you. I wanted to sleep with you and we accidentally broke your bed jumping around on it so you had to crash on the couch with me. I wanted to have sex with you and you got bored on the ride home and jumped my bones. See? Destiny.”

I burst out laughing. “That’s beautiful. But I’m not sure it completely makes sense.”

“It’s fate, Anne. Written in the stars. Leave it the f**k alone.”

“You’re crazy.” I hung my head and sighed. What else could I do?

“That’s better. Can’t stand it when you’re sad either.” His arm slipped around my shoulders, drawing me in against him. I grabbed hold of his fingers, just hanging on.

That was better. Everything would be okay. But there was still an issue I was curious about. “Why did you ask me to be your fake girlfriend?”

He shrugged, looked away. “I wanted to spend time with you. You make me happy.”

I scrunched up my forehead. “That’s all it was?”

“That’s pretty f**king important. Guess with Davie pairing up I was feeling a bit lonely or something. I thought we could be friends.”

I just stared at him.

“Needed a chance to get to know you a little better, just you and me alone. Moving in seemed a good way to do that. And you needed the help. Okay?”

“Okay.”

We sat in silence for a moment.

“Whatever shit you’re telling yourself, stop it,” he said.

“What? What are you talking about now?”

“Reece.” He rested his head atop of mine. “You’re worrying about him. Stop it.”

“Mal …” How could I explain this to him? The words were weighted in lead, impossible to get out. I hadn’t been thinking about Reece, but now that he mentioned it …

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I wiggled out from underneath him, needing to see his face. Since when could he read me and why couldn’t I do the same? He appeared calm and sure, beautiful as sin. His lips sat slightly apart, his eyes serene. Suddenly, the words weren’t so impossible to find after all.

“I hurt him.”

“Maybe. But he’s the one that left you hanging on. He hurt you too.”

“But I fix things,” I said. “It’s what I do.”

“You can’t fix this.” He toyed with my hair, wrapping the short strands around a finger.

“Why not?”

“You going to dump my ass? Send me packing?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

He smiled and shrugged. “There you go.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It is. I’m your boyfriend now, which means there’s no room for your hipster admirer. He’ll just have to lick his wounds while we lick other things.” He raised a devilish eyebrow.

My head filled with so many needy questions. A hundred and one ways to beg him for reassurance. No god damn way any of it was getting past my lips. He was so insanely perfect and I’d had him inside of me. My body buzzed with the memories, sliding straight toward overload. I wanted him again. Maybe I should just shackle myself to his ankle and be done with it. This could be the answer.

“I didn’t want to upset you,” I said. “But I needed to talk to him alone.”

“Yeah, I know. I was being a dick.” He moaned, looked to the heavens. “That enough of an apology?”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I get Reece is part of your life. I’ll try to be nice to him.”

“Thank you.”

His hair was in his face again. Carefully, I tucked some behind his ear and then cupped his cheek.

“Hey, crazy eyes. Operation Fake Girlfriend is off,” he murmured. “In case you were wondering.”

“It is, huh?”

“Way I figure it, we’re together until we decide we’re not together anymore. Let’s not put too much thought into it. Let it sort itself out, yeah?”

It was a sound plan, considering we’d only started sleeping together less than an hour ago. “I approve.”

“Glad to have you on board, Miss Rollins.” He covered my hand with his own, pressing it against his face. “I don’t wanna be unduly crass or any shit like that, but I’m worried about something.”

“What might that be?”

“Your shirt.”

I opened my mouth, shut it. “My shirt?”

“I think it’s chafing you. Subconsciously like.” His eyes were intense, his expression grave.

“My shirt is chafing my subconscious?”

“No, I believe it’s chafing the delicate skin of your ni**les and the area around … what’s it called?”

“The areola?”

“Yeah, that bit. ‘Cause it’s all pink and sensitive, you know? It’s delicate, so I believe my concern with regards to the harsh and unyielding nature of your shirt is real important even though you have yet to acknowledge the discomfort it’s causing you.”

“You know you could have been one hell of a salesman.” He was so convincing, I almost felt bad for the soft cotton of my long-sleeved top,. “I’m wearing a bra. But my ni**les really appreciate your concern.”

“Yeah, your bra’s in on it too. They’re both against you.”

“No way!” I said. He made it damn hard not to smile.