“Good to meet you, Fiona.” His dark eyes twinkle. “If you want to hang, give me a call. Gray’s got my number.”

I give him a tight smile. But my attention is on Dex. “That’s sweet, but I’m spending my time with Ivy and Gray and Dex.”

At the mention of his name, Dex finally looks my way. “Night, Fi.”

That’s all.

I manage a nod, determined not to let this bother me anymore. We weren’t meant to be anyway. But then, as he walks past my chair, the tips of his fingers run along the back of my neck.

A shiver goes through me, a smile tugging at my lips. And then he’s gone.

Fiona

The moment Dex is out of the restaurant, Gray turns on me. “What the hell was that, Fi?”

“Oh, would you relax,” I snap. “It was just a joke.”

“I guess I missed the punch line.” Gray scowls at me before stealing my water and taking a drink—while glaring over the rim of the glass.

“A pap took a picture of Jaden kissing my cheek,” Ivy explains. “Fi and Jaden were just giving him something else to gossip about.”

“I guess.” Gray shrugs but then gives me another hard look. “Still, Fi, that was not cool. Dex likes you and—” He flinches, rearing back as an olive bounces off his forehead. “Did you just ping me with that?”

“Did you miss the part where I threw it at your big head?” I ask sweetly before frowning. “Do not lecture me like I’m an idiot, Gray. I had no idea you guys were coming here.” I give Ivy a pointed look, because she could have warned me. “And I feel shitty enough as it is.”

“Well…” Gray starts.

I cut him off. “That said, Dex and I aren’t…” I wave a hand. “I don’t know what the hell we are. We went on one date. I’m leaving in a week.”

He pouts, crossing his arms over his massive chest. “Then maybe you should stay away from him.”

Hurt caves in on my chest. “Wow. Thanks. It means so much to me that you feel the need to rush me off Dex’s front porch.”

Gray’s tight mouth eases a little. “I didn’t mean it like that. Okay, maybe a little. Shit.”

“No, no.” I hold up a hand. “I get it. And maybe you’re right. But that’s my call, not yours.”

Tense silence falls over the table.

Ivy sets a hand on Gray’s arm. “We have one hour before the sitter needs us to return. Let’s not waste it arguing, Cupcake.”

He looks at her for a long moment, then nods. His blue eyes are wide and serious as they seek me out. “Sorry, Fi. I shouldn’t have gone off on you.”

“Sorry about the olive. That shit can stain,” I say, grudgingly. “Next time I’ll throw a nut.”

I get a napkin to the face in return. And we both laugh. But my insides are heavy, restless. As annoyed as I am with Gray, I know he’s right. And doesn’t that just suck the big one?

Chapter Seven

Fiona

Dex doesn’t come home. Not when Ivy and Gray head up to bed. Not after I’ve read in bed for a few hours. It’s nearly two in the morning when I give up the ghost and turn off my e-reader.

In the silence of my cozy guest room, tucked under the eaves, I stare at the window, now blocked by heavy pink silk curtains. I decorated this room. My first project. I’d gone for white walls, a gold-leaf Rococo dresser, a white Louis XVI-style bed trimmed in lime green satin, and a set of vibrant Warhol Queen Elizabeth prints hanging on one wall. I call it shabby Brit chic. It’s in honor of my mom, who’s British and uses this room when she visits.

The room across the hall, where Dex is staying, I decorated for Dad, the color scheme dark and masculine. Gray flannel on the walls, ebony wood bed, bold photo prints, and pinstriped gray curtains. It’s empty now. Something I’m painfully aware of.

Is Dex avoiding me? Is he angry? Hurt?

I replay the brush of his fingers against my skin when he’d left me. It had felt like a conversation. A promise, maybe.

But what the hell do I know?

Why does it matter so much? And so fast? Just last night I’d told myself he wasn’t my type. Then I had to go and kiss the hell out of him.

Huffing, I kick the covers free, my skin hot and itchy as though I have ants crawling over it.

Maybe I should listen to Gray and nip this thing—whatever the hell it is—in the bud. Dex is out for the night? Good. I’ll avoid him in the morning. And that will be that. We’ll politely go our own ways, and I’ll leave next week.

An hour later I am still wide fucking awake. Damn it.

Dex

One thing about living alone, you don’t have to sneak into your house. Being a guest, however, I try my best to get up the stairs without waking anyone—a certain baby, to be specific.

I’m bone-tired and smell like cigar smoke. Some of the guys insisted on lighting up. Swear to God, those dogs playing poker paintings have a lot to answer for. Because I can see no good reason why filling up a room with vile blue smoke is conducive to winning poker.

I certainly didn’t need any aid to win. Defensive linemen are shit at keeping a neutral face. I could read them like a book and am a few grand richer for it. A smile pulls at my mouth at the memory of Jaden cursing as he lost again and again.

My smile fades. I took sick pleasure in beating his ass. I tell myself it didn’t have anything to do with that little scene I witnessed at the restaurant, that it was all about being a good center and not letting a lineman get one over on me. But I’m only lying to myself.

Suppressing a sigh, I creep into my room. And halt.

The small, bronze bedside lamp is on, casting a soft, warm glow over the room. Not much light, but enough to see perfectly clear.

Curled up under the covers, an e-reader still in hand, is Fi. She’s fast asleep, her golden hair spread out over my pillow.

For a second I look back at the door. Did I go into Fi’s room by accident? No. I’ve seen her room. It’s light and colorful and feminine.

Besides, my boots are in one corner, a pair of my jeans hanging off the back of the leather armchair next to the window.

My gaze wanders back to Fi, who looks tiny in the big bed. And I’m having a Goldilocks moment here, because I definitely feel like the bear who’s found his bed invaded.

Hell.

I tried to avoid thinking of her all night. She kissed Jaden. I don’t know why. It hadn’t looked involved. They’d been laughing, clearly goofing around. Still didn’t stop me from feeling as though a pole had been punched through my chest.

But her big, green eyes had held guilt and regret when she looked at me. So what could I say?

I don’t own Fi. I want her. I fear wanting her. But I don’t have a claim.

A soft snore leaves Fi’s lips, and she snuggles down farther in the bed.

Fi. In my bed.

Maybe I do have a claim.

I unbuckle my belt and slide my jeans off as quietly as possible. I’d wanted to take a shower. Now, I’m not risking leaving, only to find her gone when I return. I keep my shirt and underwear on, not trusting myself to be naked in a bed with Fi.

Turning off the light, I approach the empty side of the bed and slip beneath the covers.

Fi doesn’t wake up, but she turns my way, as if seeking me. Fuck it. I pull her against me, tucking her back to my front. And she settles in with a sleepy sigh. I let myself soak in her warm body, breathe the scent of her skin. She feels so damn good, my heart hurts.

I hold her closer, my arm around her narrow waist, my hand cupping her soft breast. It feels so right, everything in me relaxes. Yeah, I’m now horny, but exhaustion and the relief that Fi sought me out have the greater claim. I fall asleep before I even know it.