“It’s my grandfather’s house. And here’s what I wanted to show you.” I opened the door to the garage.

Rhett let out a low whistle. There were eight cars in the garage. Some classics. Some modern beauties. He instantly became distracted by the Ferrari. But I hadn’t brought him in here to show him that car. I grabbed his hand, pulling him over toward the one I really wanted to show him—the Impala, like his.

A moment too late, I realized I shouldn’t be touching him. I quickly dropped his hand. Swallowing hard, I took an extra step away from him. This wasn’t about anything other than showing him something I’d never been able to show anyone else before. I didn’t want to send him the wrong message.

Glancing at me for a moment, he said nothing. Instead he ran his hand across the hood. His touch was gentle, as if he were touching a woman, not a car. He took a moment and inspected the car—I mean really inspected it. “It’s a pretty car,” he commented as he opened the driver’s side door and sat down behind the steering wheel. He gripped the wheel tightly, the sound of the leather crinkling under his touch. “Does anyone even use it?”

“It just sits here,” I muttered. He looked good sitting there, like he belonged. “My grandfather is particular about his cars. His hands only.”

Rhett immediately put his hands up in the air. “Should I even be touching it?”

“Probably not.”

He got out of the car and shut the car door behind him. The sound echoed through the garage. “Sydney,” he said, using my name for the first time ever. The way it rolled off his tongue had an unexpected and direct effect on my body. “Why did you bring me out here to see this?”

The climate-controlled temperature in the garage suddenly felt like an oven. He was right. Why had I brought him out here? I ran my fingers through my hair, wishing now that I hadn’t been so eager to show off the car. It didn’t help that my body was full-on tingling now. We were alone. It was quiet. The car reminded me of his car, which reminded me of the orgasm he’d given me in it. And all I could think about was sex and how badly I wanted it with him. Not the gentle way our first time had been either—I wanted the Rhett with the reputation.

“Damn,” he grunted, his eyes burning through me. “I guess that answers one of my questions.”

“What?” I breathed. I could barely think straight all of a sudden.

His tongue ran over his bottom lip. Oh, those lips. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Shit. This was bad. What was it with him? We hadn’t even been in each other’s company longer than ten minutes, and I already couldn’t control myself. I went to him, knowing full well that we were about to have a repeat of that night. Probably right here on the garage floor. Or maybe on the hood of my grandfather’s car. It didn’t matter where. I only needed him. Now.

He brushed my hair back away from my face, his hands moving gently. I thought he was going to kiss me—the slow, sweet kind. But he didn’t kiss me. Instead he roughly whispered, “How badly do you want me?” and kissed the corner of my mouth, but not my actual lips.

“Badly,” I breathed. My knees went weak. “Rhett,” I begged. “Please kiss me.”

He pressed his lips to my cheek, then my neck, but still not my mouth like I wanted. Then suddenly he groaned, not in a good way either, in an angry way, and he pulled back. His touch leaving me completely. “The milk is no longer free. Sorry, princess.”

“What?” I choked out, leaning back against the car. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not going to touch you again until I get what I want in return.”

My stomach dropped. I had no idea what was happening. “What do you want in return?”

“You. Not just your body and not just sex. I want you. You hurt me when you left me. I’ve done the casual thing. I’m sick to death of the casual thing. I’m not doing it with you. I honestly only came over here today to wish you well, and those intensions are getting warped. So when you’re ready—and here’s a hint, sweetheart, there are three words I’m gonna want to hear—I’ll be here. You know, when and if that day ever comes and your feelings ever catch up to mine. So, bye, Sydney. Good luck in college.” He moved closer to me for a brief moment, pressed his lips to my forehead, and then left.

I’d never been so shocked, and I felt absolutely horrible for trying to use him like that again. Rejection wasn’t an easy pill to swallow, either. But, in some weird way, I really admired him for turning me down just now. At least one of us had some control. And some morals.

CHAPTER 10:

RHETT

I left Sydney that day with so much confidence and certainty. Going to her house, I’d been seeking answers. Did she still want me? Was there a chance for us? Could she possibly love me one day? And then, all at once, she gave me what I needed. Yes—to all my questions. There was reason to hope, to believe that something more could exist between us. I knew it the moment she showed me that car. Because she didn’t have to do that. She could have told me to leave, to get off her property, and to never come near her or her giant house again. But that wasn’t how it happened. So I had to believe that somewhere deep inside, even if it was only the smallest, minuscule amount, she cared for me. Plus, we still had the physical thing down. That part seemed to be a no-brainer for us. I had to trust that the rest could follow. One day.

Our problem was more a matter of bad timing. I was ready for her, but she wasn’t ready for me. We had a lot of things working against us. The age difference. The soon to be long distance thing. Her psycho, protective brother. But those things didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. I was willing to wait until the timing was better. This was the rest of my life we were talking about. Of course, I would wait. For however long it would take.

Well…that was then.

And this was now.

Everything changed. It happened in one split, awful second. My confidence crumbled and my certainty vanished. Two weeks into September, only a month after the day I last saw Sydney, I overheard a phone conversation of Ellie’s. It was completely random that I’d come home that day and that I’d happened to catch her on the phone.

Someone spilled cocktail sauce all over my shirt at work. It was nasty. Not a single other employee at Chancy’s had a clean shirt I could borrow in my size, so I had to make a quick trip home. When I came inside the house, I could hear Ellie in the kitchen. She was in the middle of an argument with whomever was on the other line. It wasn’t my business. I wasn’t even trying to listen. But one foot into the door, I overheard one word—Ben. Not in the context of the past, not as if she were talking about him, but she used his name as if she were talking to him.

My mouth dropped open and my feet froze. No freaking way. This meant she was either losing her mind, talking to a dead person, or her brother was still alive.

“I just don’t understand, Ben,” I heard her say. “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around all of this… But I want to come visit you in Malibu… Uh, huh… Yeah, I’ve missed you too… Yeah… No, I promise I won’t tell anyone… We’ve already been over that… I’ll see you in November…”

Knocked off my damn feet. No other words could describe how I felt in that moment. My heart felt as if it had been ripped out of my chest and trampled on the floor. Should I have been happy that Ben was alive, somehow, randomly, and calling Ellie on the phone? Probably. That would have been the decent thing to feel. But I felt quite the opposite.