“It is. Sorta.” He lets his arms flop down at his sides. “I hate shopping. Kinda like you and parties, ya know?”

I blink. Okay. “Well, it’s summer. Everyone’s wearing ripped clothes.”

“That’s jeans, Embers.”

“Expand the concept.” I grin at him, and his pupils darken again, though this time I have no clue what he’s thinking.

Why am I talking to him? How can I be so relaxed with him? I hardly know him. Plus, he’s a jerk. Though, right now, under his blue-green scrutiny, I can’t quite remember what it was he did that was so bad.

“Don’t you have a pair of dark jeans and a nice shirt? I bet you’ll get away with it. Asher and Audrey don’t seem anal about dress codes.”

“Anal.” He chuckles. “Yeah, well. No, I don’t have dark jeans and a nice shirt.”

“Okay.” I hum under my breath. “Jeans that aren’t ripped and a nice shirt?”

He shakes his head.

“So what do you have?”

He looks down at himself. “My jogging pants and shoes. Two pairs of jeans, ripped, and a few more T-shirts. Oh and a sweater and a jacket.”

My mouth falls open. “That’s all?”

“I don’t need more. I wash them and they’re good as new.”

“Except when they’re falling apart.”

“Damn.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m serious. I have trouble shopping.”

“Why? You don’t mind being around crowds. So what’s the issue?”

He doesn’t seem to hear me. “Shit, I need to do something. The wedding’s coming up in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” I squeak. “So soon?”

“You going, too?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“That’s fucking awesome.” He turns his attention back to me and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Damn, I bet you’re dying to go, aren’t you, Embers?”

“Not funny. And stop calling me Embers. It’s a shitty name, anyway.”

He suddenly pushes his chair back, rattling the table as he gets up, unfolding his long frame. “Right. Well, I gotta go.”

My mouth falls open and I close it with a snap. What the heck is going on? “Jesse.”

“What?” he growls. He’s already grabbed his hoodie and is pulling it on. His head pops through the opening, and he thrusts his arms into the sleeves. “You were right not wanting to let me in. Fuck, I’m surprised you did. All I do is fuck up—”

I push to my feet. “JJ.”

He freezes in the act of straightening the black hoodie, lifting his gaze to look at me. It’s right there, the same heartbreak that shone out of his eyes when I peeked through the peephole earlier.

I rewind the conversation, trying to remember the last thing I said. “You made fun of me for not wanting to go to the wedding.”

“I fucking didn’t—”

“And I told you not to call me Embers. Actually, I said…” It’s a shitty name. That’s what I said. “Talk to me.”

“Fucked in the ass,” he whispers so low I have to strain to hear, “as Helen would say. Still.”

Who’s Helen? What’s this about?

He chews on the inside of his cheek, glances at the door, then at the window as if he’s debating jumping out to avoid any explanation.

Which only makes me more curious.

“Fucking hell.” He runs a hand over his close-cropped hair. “As if it fucking matters… Embers. Embers was the name of one of two things that were important to me.”

“Two thing? What things?”

“One was the leather band I lost.” He licks his lips, glances again at the door. “And the other was a toy.”

“A toy.” I gape at him. “The two things that mattered in your life were a leather bracelet and a toy? Why?”

A muscle jumps in his jaw. He bends his head, kicks at invisible dirt. “The toy’s the only thing that survived my childhood. It was a stuffed animal.”

“What happened to it?”

“I lost it.” He turns away and heads out of the kitchen. “I fucking lost it. That’s what I do with everything that matters to me. Gotta run.”

And this time he does leave, his scent lingering in my small kitchen.

***

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Kayla stumbles into the kitchen table, snatches my mug and gulps down my coffee. “How come I missed Jesse Lee lounging in our kitchen?” She waves the mug at me. “Couldn’t you at least, I don’t know, take photos? On your cell phone?”

“Last time he was here, you remembered an urgent chore and left.” I wrestle her for the coffee and she gives it up, then pads over to the coffee machine and pours herself another.

“That was because I wanted to give you some privacy. I did get to see him, though.” She wags her brows. “Very important detail.”

“Why would we need privacy?”

“Don’t know. Maybe because you were staring at each other like you were about to jump into bed together? And bickering,” she continues before I can get a word in edgewise. “Can’t forget the bickering. Major sign.”

“We weren’t bickering.” I swallow the rest of my lukewarm coffee, my thoughts stuck on everything Jesse said today. “A sign for what, anyway?”

Embers. The name of his toy. The one thing that survived his childhood.

Why would that be the one thing he has from when he was little? Or rather had, since he lost it. Who is Helen? And why did he run away?

I interrupt whatever it is Kayla has been saying. “Have you seen a leather band lying around?”

“A leather band? Did you lose it here?” Kayla frowns, shakes her head. “Nope, can’t say I’ve seen it. But hey, I do love the bracelet you’re wearing now! Where did you get it?”

I lift my hand, small beads slipping like cool water over my wrist. “I made it.” From my winter batch.

“You did? Are you serious?” She yips and grabs my wrist with her free hand to study the bracelet. “Oh my God! Can you make more? Do you sell them?”

“I can. I do.” I laugh and pull my hand away. “I have loads. I’ll show you later.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Yeah, cross my heart.” I sit at the table, trying to sort through my thoughts. “Hey, how well do you know the Damage Boyz?”

“Know? I wouldn’t say I really know them.” She slinks into the seat across from me, and my memory superimposes Jesse’s long, muscled body over hers for a moment, until I blink. “But I do know a few things about them, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is. Like…” I tilt my mug, stare at the dregs. “Ev told me a few things. Zane took some of them on as apprentices.”

“Yeah. He and Rafe took them in off the streets.” She gives a one-shoulder shrug. “The boys were homeless. Zane saw a talent in them, and he and Rafe decided to give them a chance. For a future, know what I mean?”

I nod. “So they were homeless. But what about their families?”

“Micah’s an orphan. I don’t know about the others.”

A leather band. A toy. A mystery. “I’ll ask Ev.”

“You do that.” Kayla squints at me. “Are you in love, Amber Walsh?”

“Oh God.” I climb to my feet and put my mug in the sink. “What now, you saw a change in my heart line? Or maybe you’ve read my horoscope?”

“Don’t be silly.” She swirls her coffee. “Didn’t have time to do that, and how can I see your heart line from here?”

“Then what?”

“Jesse was here, and now you’re looking for a leather band that has to be his, and trying to find out more about him. Elementary, my dear Amber.”

Chapter Eight

Jesse

The morning’s unusually warm and humid. My T-shirt sticks to my back as I walk down the street and stop in front of Damage Control. I’m early, today being my cleaning shift, and I fumble with the key while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Staying upright after a long, loud night at Jackass and Co.—which would be my apartment—is tricky.

Is it my apartment if I share it with three jerks? Do they even count as people?

Fucking tools. I’d be more lenient, but lack of sleep is getting to me. My eyes are itchy, my skin feels stretched too tight over my bones, and my brain is sluggish. Next, hallucinations, if memory serves—this isn’t my first encounter with insomnia. Boy, so looking forward to that.