“You’re Sage’s cousin, right?” a deep voice asks, and my hair stands on end while butterflies take flight in my stomach.

I don’t have to look to know it’s him speaking. Still, I tip my head way back to catch his gaze. Lord, save me. He’s tall and so beautiful. I thought I got that from across the room, but seeing him up close is something else.

“I think he told me you were.” His brows draw together over his blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes as I stare at him.

I mentally slap myself and force my mouth to start working. “Yes, I’m December.”

His brow relaxes and he leans into the bar next to me with his hip, crossing his arms over his chest. “Another month.” His eyes twinkle with humor.

“Pardon?”

“Met a July, June, May, and April. Now, December.”

At the mention of April, my stomach twists. “Our parents were keeping with a theme.” I pick up my wine and take a very unladylike gulp. Why didn’t I see him first?

“Gareth.” His hand comes my way. I don’t want to take it, really don’t want to, but my manners force me to place my hand in his. When his rough, warm strength envelops my hand, my breath sticks in my lungs. “It’s nice to meet you.”

I lick my lips, and whisper, “You too.” With my hand still held in his, his gaze searches mine. The intense look in his eyes makes me feel funny, makes me feel like he sees some part of me I don’t even know about.

“I thought you weren’t drinking.” My eyes close, blocking out Gareth, as April suddenly tosses her arm around my shoulders. “You’re such a rebel, drinking wine when you’re supposed to get me home safely.”

“It’s just one glass. I’ll be fine to drive you home later.” I open my eyes and turn my head to look at her.

“I know,” she agrees, looking at me, and then she looks at Gareth and smiles. “My sister is a good girl. She always follows the rules.”

God, I really wish that weren’t true.

“Ember.” Warm fingers wrap around my jaw, and I blink away the memory and focus on Gareth’s handsome face that is closer than before.

“Did you just call me Ember?” I frown, offended he’s forgotten my name already.

“Baby, your name represents the cold, but standing in front of you, I feel nothing but heat.”

“It’s because I’m drunk.”

“What?”

“My body is producing heat in order to burn off the alcohol I’ve consumed,” I tell him matter-of-factly. I leave out that the feel of his hard muscles pressed against my soft body is making me stupid, causing my mouth to form words and speak them without my permission.

“Maybe we should get you somewhere you can cool down.”

“I’m outside,” I point out while looking around.

“Yeah, but I was thinking more along the lines of a cold shower.”

She’s always a good girl.

April’s words from earlier ring through my mind and my hand balls into a fist. Screw that. For once in my life, I’m going to be bad.

One

December

BEFORE I EVEN open my eyes, I know I’m not in my bed. The sheet I’m under isn’t soft but rough, and there is bright light pooling in through my normally dark curtains. Still... it’s not the sheets nor the bright light seeping through my closed eyelids that leads me to the conclusion that I’m not in my bed. It’s the scent of musk and man, and the heavy arm holding me close. I want to relish the feeling of being held like I am. I want to soak up every detail of this moment, but I know... I know the arm holding me so close, so possessively, is the same one that could start a war between me and my sister. Even if April was enjoying the company of another man last night, rules are rules, and my no longer drunken mind reminds me of them loudly in the bright light of day.

With my heart feeling suddenly heavy inside my chest, I carefully and quietly get up. I’m thankfully still fully clothed, wearing my dress from last night, except my shoes. Shoes Gareth rid me of as I lay on his bed. His bed that he curled himself around me in moments later, ordering me gruffly to go to sleep instead of what I really wanted to do and could tell he did too, judging by his hard-on I felt lying heavy between us.

My eyes slide closed. I can’t think about his sweet gesture right now. Right now, I need to get out of here before I do something stupid, like climb back into bed with him, or worse, go to his kitchen to make him breakfast. As quietly as I can, I pick up my shoes and purse from the floor and move toward the door. It’s only a couple steps, but it feels like it takes forever to finally grasp the silver handle.

After I turn the knob, I look over my shoulder to make sure the man in the bed behind me is still asleep as the door creaks open. Seeing he’s just as I left him—his head on his pillow, his strong features relaxed, and his big strong body shut down—I take a second to memorize every detail, hoping it will be enough to get me through the rest of my boring life.

Shutting the door behind me, I walk down a short hallway and stop suddenly just inside the living room that is open to the kitchen. I didn’t have time to look around last night. The moment Gareth let us inside, he kissed me and didn’t stop until we were in his room. Taking it all in now, I’m surprised. The place looks like a home, not a bachelor pad. It’s gorgeous, bright, and updated, with black cabinets in the kitchen and speckled granite on the counters. The furniture in the living room is worn from use, but there are pictures hanging on the walls—some art and some family photos in well-chosen frames. Knickknacks and books are on the built-in shelves, and boy paraphernalia from video games to sports equipment is scattered across the room.

I want to examine the space and photos for clues about Gareth’s life, but I don’t allow myself the opportunity. I rush to the front door, open it, and step outside. I look around to try to figure out where I am, and my stomach drops to my toes. Across the street is Harmony’s car parked in front of her house, with her husband’s bike parked next to it. Gareth… My eyes close briefly. I can’t believe he is the single dad Harmony mentioned to me and the girls after one of his sons hit a baseball into her car.

Hoping my cousin and her man are still asleep in their bed with no way of seeing me, I put on my shoes and move down the porch to the sidewalk. I hurry to the end of the block and send for an Uber to pick me up. Wrapping my arms around myself, I sigh. I look ridiculous waiting in the chilly morning air, wearing my makeup, dress, and heels from last night. My only saving grace is that it’s early and no one seems to be awake yet.

I watch the street for the Nissan that’s supposed to pick me up, and frown when it turns the corner with rap music blaring from the interior. When the car stops at the edge of the sidewalk before me, I look through the passenger window at the white kid wearing a backward baseball cap. He looks no older than sixteen, and I wonder if he should even be behind the wheel.

The window goes down but the music doesn’t. It just gets louder as it escapes the confines of the car. “December?”

“Yes.”

“I’m your ride,” he says before rolling up the window without another word.

I check the app on my phone to confirm he is in fact my ride, then open the back door and get in.