He’d broken—

Oh shit.

“Fuck you and—” the other guy started to say.

I pushed my chair back instantly, my hand going around the inside of Ripley’s elbow, giving it a tug.

He didn’t move, but I knew he’d felt me when his eyes shifted over to look at me with this crazy expression on his face. That hit me straight in the heart.

“You know, I think it’s time I left.” I squeezed Rip. “We left.”

The guy snarled as he took a step back, paused for a moment, and then took another, like one hadn’t put enough distance between the two men. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but I’m done. You need to tell your man it’s you looking to fuck around.”

I could have argued with him or explained that Ripley’s wasn’t my man. He wasn’t anyone’s man. Much less mine.

But…

I didn’t really care that much, especially not when he’d made me feel old and was overall just kind of a prick and a reminder why I had no business finding a date on an app used for mostly hooking up.

Because the only person I could blame for tonight was myself. I had set this date up. I had downloaded the app two nights ago and had agreed to go out with the first person who had invited me. Because I had told myself I was trying to move on.

The jerk skirted around the table, and at the last minute, raised his middle finger at us before basically tucking his tail in and speed walking out of the bar.

“What are you doing?” I hissed at Rip the second the other guy was out of view.

Rip stood there and looked at me, his expression back to blank. “He was a fucking tool, Luna.”

Okay, he had been a tool, but… “If he was or not, what are you doing here?” I asked him, shoving my chair even further back and pretending like I didn’t see the other bar-goers nearby standing there, looking over at us. I was done. I was going home.

“I came to make sure you were all right.”

I was not going to blow his comment out of proportion. I wasn’t, and because I wasn’t, I was able to keep myself nice and calm as I asked, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Rip ignored my words but watched as I grabbed my phone and keys and stuck them into my pockets. “Where’s your car?”

I took a step back. “I didn’t drive.”

He took a step forward, making his way around the table as he said, “Good. I’ll give you a ride home.”

Nope, I still wasn’t going to overthink his comment or his offer. I had no idea what kind of game he was playing—or even when he’d decided he wanted to start playing games, especially by referring to me as his girl all of a sudden—but it wasn’t my problem. I wasn’t going to get all sucked up into him being nice to me now, then, later on, decide he didn’t want to have anything to do with me afterward. I couldn’t handle it. I wouldn’t.

“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t need a ride. I’ll just get a car—”

A hand landed on the small of my back a second before Rip started steering me toward the door, oblivious to the way I was looking up at him like I had no clue who the hell he was.

Because I didn’t.

I didn’t know who this man pushing me through the bar was, showing up and ruining an already crappy date, implying I was his girl, being all nice and protective and jealous and—

I wasn’t doing this. I wasn’t putting myself in this position. I already knew I was weak where Rip was concerned, and that’s why I had to shut this down the instant we were outside.

“You eat already?” he asked just as he led me through the door, the bouncer giving me a curious expression since he’d been seeing me so often lately.

“No.” I tried to slow my steps, but that hand on my back just kept me right on marching through the parking lot. “Rip, I really don’t need a ride. Look, I’m just going to get a—”

“You in the mood for a burger?” he asked just as I spotted his truck parked maybe fifteen feet away under the lights of the lot.

I looked up at him over my shoulder and told my gut to back off. “I’m trying to talk to you. Could you listen, please?”

That had him stopping, his hand sweeping up my spine to stop at my shoulder, and I’d swear he didn’t just look down at me, but his body seemed to curl into mine as his eyebrows went up and he said, “I always listen to you.”

I wasn’t ready for that comment—not right then and, more than likely, not for the rest of my life, especially not when the person saying those words was this man.

The hand on my shoulder trekked even further up, cupping the nape of my neck in a warm, strong grip. “You want to waste money taking a taxi and you’re trying to get out of eating with me, am I right?” he asked softly.

Hell.

Hell, hell, hell.

What I knew without a doubt had to be a finger came up to the top of my ear, curling around the shell so lightly it almost tickled. “You told me you forgave me,” he accused me in that same tissue-paper voice.

I could do this. I could handle it. “I do forgive you, Rip. I get that people say things they regret later on.”

His expression got cloudy. “I do regret what I said, but you’re missing the part where I told you I didn’t mean it. I said I was sorry I didn’t tell you from the beginning I knew about your family.”

He did mean it. Everything had some kind of root of truth beneath it. Everything.

And even if this didn’t…. that didn’t change the fact that I didn’t want to go through something like this again. Not ever. Not with him.

That light little touch moved over the shell of my ear again, making that tingle start at the base of my spine. Warm breath washed over my forehead as he curled into me even more. “Whatever the hell you might think, you’re the last person I would ever want to hurt. Why are you fighting this?” he asked, sweeping his finger again over my ear and dragging it across the studs at my earlobe.

I could be strong. I could be brave. I could do this. “I’m not… fighting it. I’m just being real. I don’t want you to waste your time—”

“You’re never a waste of my time.”

Where was this coming from? “Rip—”

This mountain of a man took his other hand off my back and settled it on my throat, managing to cup it between his hands before I realized what he was doing. Lucas Ripley dipped his face even closer to mine… so close I tried to move backward so I could get a good look at him, but he didn’t let that happen. He brought his mouth, his face, his eyes, some of the things I liked the most about him, inches from me. His mouth a lunge away…

What the hell was I doing thinking about that? Jeez.

“You haven’t listened to a single fucking thing I’ve said, have you? Seen a single thing I’ve done? You the only person who hasn’t put shit together?”

I breathed in through my nose and heard it rattle right out of me.

“I don’t know how to give you flowery words and shit like that, Luna. I don’t know how to tell you what you want or need to hear. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve given a fuck about anybody. Do you understand that?”

I could do this. I could—

“I don’t like the idea of you sitting next to some random asshole who wants to get in your pants.”

And that wasn’t at all what I was expecting him to say.

“What?” I didn’t mean to whisper.

His finger came up, and the pad of his thumb dragged across my cheekbone. “Don’t like the idea of you going on a date with somebody.” The pad moved back the way it had come, and he said low, “Can’t fucking stand it. Just when I thought I couldn’t get more pissed…”

He…

He…

Was… jealous?

“I get that I fucked up, and I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to know about me being a Reaper. Wasn’t sure I ever wanted you to know about me being in a club like that. You said you grew up in San Antonio. The club had a bad rep there, but I got out of it. I’m sorry I didn’t fucking tell you that night in your bed when you said something, but like you said, that shit’s on me. But I want it back anyway.”