He steps closer. “What I’ve done is not your concern.”

“And who I do is not yours. Last time I checked, we aren’t together. In fact, I don’t think we ever were.” I see the reaction to what I’ve just said spread across his face. Shock and then bitterness.

He masks it quickly with a steely look, shifting Nolan’s squirming body in his arms. “You’re right,” he says, leaning down so his face is inches from mine. I swiftly glance at the day-old stubble along his jaw I used to run my finger across before he continues. “We weren’t. Do whatever you want, Tessa. See if I give a shit.”

You wouldn’t. Because giving a shit would require actually caring about someone.

He turns, walking to the side of the pool with the stairs. Nolan slides down his front and they both descend into the water, Luke holding on to him even though my nephew is a good swimmer.

I know Luke cares for Nolan, but seeing him act like a damn parent bothers me. Every time I saw him with Nolan last summer, he acted the same way. Loving. Protective. But back then when I was around it, it sparked a whole new set of feelings inside me. Feelings I’ve never felt for a guy. It gave me this delusional family image in my head. One starring a man who I now know wants nothing to do with that fantasy. So, when I see him playing with Nolan in the pool, smiling and laughing as if he’s actually enjoying himself, it infuriates me. Because it’s just another one of his lies.

The door opens and Reed comes out carrying a tray of food, Ben walking out behind him. I walk over to them, wanting to talk to Reed, when my brother grabs my elbow and pulls me to the side.

“Ow. What?” I ask, jerking my arm out of his grip.

He gives me his typical sibling look, one that’s full of concern and judgment. “What’s the last name of this guy you’re talking to online?”

Oh, hell no. First Luke and now Officer Kelly? I’m done with the interrogation.

“Why? So you can look him up in your database?”

“That’s exactly why.”

There’s one thing I know for sure about my brother. He’s relentless. If I don’t give him a last name, he’ll just keep bugging me for it, or he might even go so far as to hack into my online profile and get it himself. I wouldn’t put that past him. But this is nobody’s business but my own. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And even though I’ve only chatted with Tyler briefly, and sexually, he seems like a decent guy. I’ve seen some of the profiles on Ignite that scream sociopath, and his isn’t one of them.

I’ve never heard of a murderer who also cares deeply for the environment.

I glance around the patio, looking for inspiration. Nolan squeals when Luke tosses him into the deep end, and it hits me.

“Knight. Tyler Knight. Okay?” I keep my voice steady as he studies me. Ben, and everyone else needs to stay the hell out of this. If he wants to look somebody up in his database, he can look up this guy.

He nods, buying my lie. “All right. Just don’t do anything stupid with this guy, like go home with him or something.”

I tilt my head, motioning toward my very pregnant best friend who is chatting up Reed. “Really? You did not just say that to me.”

He laughs and puts his arm over my shoulder as we walk to the food table. “Just be careful, okay? I won’t be there to size up this guy, so I’m relying on Reed and Luke to do it for me.”

I pull away from him, looking from the pool back to Ben. “What? Luke isn’t going to be there. He never goes to the summer bonfires.”

Never. I couldn’t pay him to go to one last year.

“He’ll be at this one.”

My anxiety level spikes in my blood. Not that I wouldn’t mind making Luke jealous at this thing, but knowing him, he would probably just ruin my chances of getting laid.

Payback for the wedding.

Turning around, I glare down at Luke as he comes up from out of the water, running his hands through his hair and then over his face. My eyes narrow in on his chest, my favorite body part of his, and the T he got tattooed last summer after we’d only been together for a month. He’d played it off at the time, pointing to all the other tattoos that covered his body, and telling me that he was the king of rash decisions—getting my initial wasn’t really a big deal. But it had to be. I’d never get someone’s initial tattooed on me unless I knew, without a doubt, that they were my forever.

I remember being completely transfixed by it, running my fingers over the outline while listening to his seemingly practiced explanation. And when he tried to lessen the magnitude of the gesture, I swore I saw something in his eyes. A hidden declaration, concealed by fear or uncertainty.

You can be permanent too, if you want to be.

Jesus. How fucking stupid was I back then? I should’ve taken his words to heart instead of interpreting them in a way he obviously didn’t mean. Like that tattoo, I was just another rash decision. Not a big deal. Something he could easily black out if he wanted to.

I lift my eyes and see his trained on mine, which I’m not at all prepared for. Luke doesn’t just look at you. He gets inside your head and roots himself there, overtaking every thought and making everything around you that isn’t him seem insignificant. Those crazy eyes of his are enthralling. Amber, like the color of a sunrise. I’ve never seen anything like it. Men shouldn’t have such beautiful eyes. They shouldn’t have beautiful anything. But Luke…