“Tell me what’s going on with you and Brock.”

“What?” I was caught completely off guard. “I don’t want to talk about Brock, and it’s none of your business.”

“I held you for hours last night while you cried over him. The least you could do is tell me why.”

“I just miss him. That’s all.”

He shook his head. “Did he…hurt you?”

“Are you serious? No! Of course he didn’t hurt me. Brock would neverhurt me.”

“It’s just…if I loved someone, I wouldn’t be able to stay away from them.” His eyes locked on mine, and his gaze fell to my lips, causing me to lick them. As our eyes met again, I pushed him back so I could sit up, and he didn’t try to stop me this time.

“I really do need to get home.”

“Let me grab my shirt.” He stretched as he stood, towering over me. He had to be around six feet tall, and I felt small next to him.

He disappeared inside the house and came back a few minutes later wearing a deep‐gray shirt.

“Good news! I found your contacts. Bad news is that they were on the floor.”

“Ugh. I have another pair at home.” We headed toward his Barracuda.

“Guess I didn’t need to throw that pair on the floor then.”

I reached to my side and smacked him on the stomach.

“It was a f**king joke!” He put his hands up to keep me from hitting him again as he laughed.

Abel pulled open the passenger door, and I slid inside and waited for him to make his way to the driver’s side. I opened the glove box and pulled out the container of pills from last night, and my fingers bumped something hard. I lifted a stack of papers and pulled out a heavy silver gun. My gut twisted, and I froze with the weapon in my hand.

“Whoa. Let’s put that back where we found it, sweetheart.” He took the gun from my hand and slid it back in its hiding spot. I shook the bottle of pills, and his eyes narrowed and he took them too.

“Why do you have a gun? They’re dangerous.”

“Guns aren’t dangerous. People are.”

“Trust me…I know.Why do you have it?” I tried to shake the grim thoughts of my past from my mind.

Abel laughed and shook his head. “Been watching a lot of movies, Lie? You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m not scared of you. I just want to know what it’s for.”

“It’s for protection. It’s to keep me safe, not to hurt anyone else.”

“I’m starting to think you aren’t a nice guy, Abel,” I deadpanned, as I forced my face to go blank so he wouldn’t see how much his having a gun bothered me.

“You think I’m nice?” His smile beamed.

“This is what I get for trusting strangers.” I turned and looked out the passenger window as we pulled out toward the highway.

“Strangers with candy.”

“You are such a drug dealer.”

“You’re nosy.”

“Asshole,” I mumbled under my breath to get the last word in. The guy who had held me all night and opened up to me about his past was gone, and the arrogant jerk from yesterday was back.

“You know, Kettle, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to hurt my feelings.”

“Is it working?” I asked dryly as I looked at him. He was focused on the road ahead and didn’t respond. I reached out and changed the radio station. He gave me a sideways glance but didn’t change it back. In fact he sang along, and his voice was low and gravelly and downright sexy.

“Not bad. You ever think of quitting your drug‐dealing day job and becoming a singer?”

“No, actually.” His fingers drummed the steering wheel, but I thought it was more from nervousness than keeping beat with the song. “My mom was a singer. Not really my thing.” He turned up the radio and switched the station to classic rock.

We pulled up outside my apartment building a few minutes later, and I yawned, dying for some caffeine.

“We could go get some coffee if you want,” he said.

“I try not to consort with criminal types.”

“Am I really that bad?” He stared at me for a long moment.

“Fine. Let me get Trish. I’m sure she could use the pick‐me‐up, and she’s dying to spend time with you anyway.”

“Is she?” he asked smugly. “I wouldn’t have pegged her for the smart one.”

I rolled my eyes and got out of the car, slamming the door behind me.

Chapter Seven

Smoke

The apartment was quiet, and Trish was draped over the couch, her arm over her eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” I asked, as I made my way into my room and stripped off my dress and tugged on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I walked into the hall as Trish headed toward her room.

“Like shit. How do I look?”

“About the same.”

“Whatever. You’re such a whore.”

I tried not to let her comment bother me. Trish had no idea that I was bullied throughout high school, and I knew she didn’t mean it like they did, but it still made me want to replace her shampoo with hair remover.

“I can make you feel better,” I called out, as she closed her bedroom door.

“How?” Her door popped back open, and she stuck her head out.

“Abel is downstairs, waiting to take us for coffee.”

She beamed and closed her door again so she could get ready. I rolled my eyes and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and fix my hair. I looked like hell warmed over twice. My eyes burned from being so dry, and I decided to leave out my contacts. It had nothing to do with Abel, I told myself.

Trish was ready in record time. She came out of her room in shorts cut high enough to show her butt and a tank top that she filled out much better than I ever could.

I followed her out of our place and down to Abel’s car. She didn’t hesitate to slide into the front seat, and I struggled to squeeze my way into the back. Abel’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, and he smirked, clearly amused by my discomfort.

“I’m dying for some coffee. You’re my hero.” Trish was primping her hair as we pulled onto the road.

“A hero? That’s probably the nicest thing I’ve been called today.” He glanced at me again, and I scoffed a little too loudly as I crossed my arms over my chest. I hated being the third wheel, but it was my perpetual place in this f**ked‐up world. I lived in the past and merely existed in the present, with no care for my future. That’s just the way it was.

I sank back in my seat as I stared out of the side window, watching the world whirl by as Trish flirted with Abel and scooted herself damn near onto his lap. I slid over behind him so I wouldn’t have to meet his eyes in the mirror.

“That was some good shit last night. You think you can hook us up with some more?” she asked, and I lay my head against the cool glass.

“No. Sorry. I don’t sell anymore.”

“Aw…come on.” She pouted and pressed her chest against his arm.

“Do you smell that?” I asked, leaning forward so my face was between theirs.

“Smell what?” Trish asked, as she pulled her hair under her nose and sniffed it.

“Smells like smoke,” I said. “I think something is burning. Oh, my God. I think your car is on fire!”

Abel pulled off the road and hurried out of the car. I pushed out from the backseat and stood next to him as he opened the hood and leaned over the engine to examine it.

He shrugged. “Everything looks fine.”

“Are you sure? I still smell it.” I shrugged, and he bent over further under the hood.

I leaned in next to him and whispered into his ear, “Maybe your pants are on fire, liar!” I grinned as he stood up quickly and banged his head on the underside of the hood. I couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled out of me as he rubbed the sore spot on the back of his skull.

“That’s some commitment to a joke, Kettle. I’m impressed.”

“The bump to the head was a bonus.” I laughed. “That was karma.”

“What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

“You could throw away the drugs, drug dealer.”

“Fine.”

“Really? You’d just throw them away? Why not give them to Trish then or use them yourself?”

“Because Trish would give one to you and—no offense, Lie—you’re just dumb enough to take it again.”

“Drug dealer with a heart. I’m touched,” I replied dryly.

“I don’t do drugs,” he said. “Never have.”

“So the pot and the painkillers?”

“Pot isn’t a drug. Not when you get it for medical purposes, and those painkillers are for an injury I got during the boating accident.”

“Oh…wait. Medical marijuana is legal in Florida?”

“No.” He sighed. “But I did have a prescription in California. It’s not my fault they haven’t legalized here yet.”

“I thought you’ve been here since you were thirteen.”

“I went home for a funeral. It was a while ago, and I don’t plan to ever go back. Are we done or do you need a blood sample from me as well?” he snapped, and I took a step back, wishing I knew when to shut my mouth.

“I’ll settle for some caffeine and another bump on your head.”

Abel tried to hold his scowl, but his smile won over.

“Should I get out or something? Is this thing on fire?” Trish called from her window, and I shook my head at her delayed concern for her own safety.

“We should go.” Abel put the hood down and opened his door for me to slide into the backseat. I did and was thankful I’d chosen jeans today or my ass would have been right in his face.

After we pulled back out onto the road, Trish slid her body against Abel’s and praised him for once again saving her day. He rubbed the back of his head, and I smiled to myself.

We pulled up to the coffee shop, and all I could smell was heaven. I didn’t realize how exhausted I was until we arrived.

The Java Junkie was practically empty, with most college students still being in bed, so we were able to the score the coveted corner booth. Abel slid in, and Trish pushed in next to him, so I was left alone on the opposite side. A barista came to our table and took our orders, and we sat in awkward silence for a few minutes.

“So…” I said, and blew out a heavy breath.

“Last night was crazy, right? Where the hell did you end up? I always knew you had it in you.” Trish winked. “That’ll show Brock for never calling you.”

I closed my eyes to block out her voice. It was too early, and I was dangerously undercaffeinated for this conversation.

“I didn’t screw anyone.” My eyes flicked to Abel and back to Trish, who was pulling sugar packets out of the dish on the table.

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” I replied angrily.

Abel cleared his throat and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. He didn’t mention where I’d been, so neither did I. I felt like he was challenging me to tell Trish the truth.

“I mean, I would have, but he couldn’t get it up,” I whispered. Trish giggled, and Abel’s eyes narrowed.

“Can you really blame the guy if you don’t turn him on?” His head tilted to the side.

“I guess not. I mean…he did seem kind of g*y.”

“Here you go.” The barista dropped off our drinks, and I picked mine up and blew into the little drinking hole to cool it down a bit. She smiled at Trish, and I couldn’t help laugh as she acted as if she were the only one around. Her beauty wasn’t something that went unnoticed, unlike me.

“Turning men g*y—is that like a superpower, or did it take years of practice?” Abel smirked as he picked up his cup and took a sip. The barista’s eyes grew wide, but she quickly recovered, smiling brightly as she left the table.

“So…who did you go home with last night, Abel?” Trish asked casually.

“No one special.” He stared across the table at me.

“Loser,” I groaned, as I rolled my eyes.

“I may be a loser, but I f**k like a champ. You should try it sometime. Maybe you wouldn’t be so cranky.”

I wondered how Trish actually got home if he wasn’t the one to take her, like he’d promised.

“Maybe we can go out again tonight…just you and me?” she asked him with a flirtatious grin.

I screeched as I tilted my cup just a little too far and burned my bottom lip.

“Sure. Sounds fun.” I glanced up to find Abel’s eyes on me and that shit‐eating grin—the one he wore so often—firmly in place.

“Great. I know the perfect place.” Trish rambled excitedly about her plans for tonight, and I was thankful when she had drunk enough coffee to stop talking and go to the bathroom.

“How did she get home last night?”

“Cab.” He took a drink of his coffee.

“She could have ended up anywhere. You promised. You’re a promise‐breaking liar.”

“Compound name‐calling. Multitalented.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Abel leaned forward, his voice low and serious. “I couldn’t leave you. You needed someone to look out for you, and Trish couldn’t. I made sure she was safe. It’s not like she hasn’t done this a million times.”

“So have I.”