“Yeah, let me grab my jacket. Do you want to come in?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Pulling the door all the way open, I give him the space to step into my territory. The apartment isn’t much. We have a futon as our only piece of living room furniture for God’s sake. His master bedroom is probably bigger than this entire place.

“You can have a seat if you want. I’ll only be a minute.”

I turn to walk away but he grabs my elbow, stopping me in place. Fear courses through my veins, not of him, but of what he does to me when we’re this close. He steps closer until I can feel the heat coming off his body. My eyes dart around the room. My mind wanders to all the possibilities of this.

“You look gorgeous,” he says from behind me.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He runs his hand down my forearm, slowly releasing me. “You like the tux?”

“No,” I answer, spinning back around to face him. I tug on his tie. “I love the tux.”

He grins . . . in a way that’s bound to get me in a whole lot of trouble. The kind that reminds me why this might not be a good idea.

“I’ll be right back.” I disappear behind my bedroom door, inhaling the air needed to fill my lungs, then repeating until I feel like I have enough control to be in his presence again. He unnerves me in ways I can’t describe, and he’s too perceptive for me to let him see me this way.

After grabbing my long black coat from the closet, I swallow the last of my anxieties and walk out to the living room where he stands peering out the lone window. He defines power—perfect posture, broad shoulders and taut muscles. The man has everything going for him from what I can see. He’s just not Blake.

“Ready?” I ask, careful not to scare him.

He looks back, eyes surveying me. “Just waiting on my beautiful date.”

I open my mouth to argue, but pull myself back. He probably didn’t mean it in the way it sounded. “Let’s get out of here then. I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.”

He laughs, deep and throaty. “That makes two of us.”

I pick up my clutch from the table and head toward the door, opening it for him. He comes to stand next to me but doesn’t exit. “This is the only door I’m going to let you open tonight.”

I glance down, running the toe of my heels against the hardwood floors. This guy is a complete gentleman. I should be swooning, picturing myself as his better half. Dreaming of it at night and falling at his feet during the day to make it happen.

It may be the biggest mistake of my life—clinging to a guy who’ll never truly let me in when the epitome of male perfection is standing right in front of me.

When I come back to, he’s standing out in the hallway looking down at me with his eyebrows drawn in. “You all right?”

“Yes, sorry,” I reply, shaking my head. “I probably should have slept more last night.”

He holds out his hand to me, and I take it, pulling the door shut behind me. His fingers are warm, entwining with mine. It’s intimate but doesn’t push me too far from my comfort zone. As we walk down the long, narrow hall, I keep my head down, afraid that my heels will catch and I’ll go tumbling across the old, worn carpet.

If I let it, tonight could be fun. If only it were that easy.

Pierce stops suddenly, yanking me back with him. I look up at him, confused, and notice his fiery eyes staring forward. Curious, I follow them, and in that one moment, my whole world spins.

“What are you doing here?” Pierce asks, gripping my hand a little tighter.

“I fucking live here,” Blake answers. His words are meant for Pierce, but he’s staring straight at me. The pain and confusion that emit from his eyes don’t go unnoticed.

“Do you know each other?” My voice is so timid, I’m not sure if my words even registered with them.

“You could say that,” Pierce says. He lets go of my hand, moving it to the small of my back. “How do you know him?”

I swallow, attempting to bury the weariness in my voice. “He’s my roommate.”

Blake laughs maniacally, rubbing the back of his neck. “Roommates? That’s fucking great.”

Now I’m mad. Pissed. Frustrated. Resentful. I’m a big fucking ball of destruction that wants to roll toward Blake and make him feel every ounce of what I’m feeling. “We talked about this earlier. Remember?”

I sense Pierce’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look. I could have gone a hundred life times without this moment.

Pierce’s hand squeezes mine again, lightly tugging me forward. “Let’s get out of here. I think we both know this asshole isn’t worth our time.”

“Take your hands off her!” Blake yells. I don’t get this. He knew I had plans tonight. I was upfront with everything, but obviously there’s something between these two that I’m completely oblivious to. A game changer.

“Pierce,” I say quietly, placing my hand on his forearm. “Can you wait outside? I’ll take care of this.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Yes, you are, or you can go ahead and leave without me.”

Pierce obviously isn’t used to being ordered around. He releases my hand and comes to stand in front of me. The carefree, sexy smile he wore earlier is long gone. “Lila, what is this?” he whispers so only I can hear.

“Please, wait outside. I’ll explain later.”

He nods, brushing my hair off my forehead. “If you’re not out in five minutes, I’m going to come looking for you. I don’t trust this asshole.”

“I’m a big girl.”

He shakes his head at me before walking away. I don’t miss how he bumps his shoulder against Blake’s as he walks by. Or the way Blake looks at him with venom in his eyes. It’s as if I’m witnessing the final seconds before a MMA fight.

Just when I’m about to step between them, Pierce breaks away and continues down the hall. I inhale a deep breath, relieved that whatever that was is over . . . at least for now.

Blake stands with his hands on his hips, staring up at the stained, white ceilings. He seems unapproachable—anger rolling off him in epic proportions.

“How do you know Pierce?” I ask, not waiting for him to look back down.

“I just do,” he replies, eyes roaming the walls. He’s trying hard to see anything but me. I don’t like it.

“Will you at least tell me what that was all about?”

He shakes his head. There’s not a sound. Not a whisper or an audible breath. Nothing.

There’s nothing else I can do here . . . nothing else to say. I swallow my foolish dreams and start past him . . . to find Pierce before this day lets me down any more than it already has.

I’ve tried hard not to be a naïve woman—not to put myself in situations where my heart will be broken—but that’s all I seem to accomplish. Just when I feel like my life’s going somewhere, I’m pushed back on my ass.

“Don’t go,” he says quietly as I walk past.

I stop, glancing toward him. His eyes finally meet mine, glossed over from too much alcohol or not enough sleep. Or both. “Then tell me to stay. Tell me you’re ready to give me more.”

When he breaks eye contact again, I know the answer. He doesn’t want to see my heart shatter and fall to little pieces on the old, worn carpet. “You already know what I can give you.”

I nod once, glancing at his broken profile one last time. When I walk out the door, that’s going to be it. He’s going to know I made my choice just as he did a few seconds ago.

With every step I take, I wait for my name. I wait for him. And as I make my way to the top of the steps, I realize I waited for something that will never be.

AS SOON AS I OPEN THE front door, I see Pierce perched against the side of a sleek black Escalade. The chrome rims sparkle under the moonlight. It screams for attention in the same way the guy standing next to it does. He could step right into an Armani ad, and no one would blink an eye.