“I’m takin’ you home and you’re gonna eat, take a couple shots of tequila, and get some sleep.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue with him as I normally would. “Whatever.”

It wasn’t until he drove passed the street that would have taken us back to my apartment that I spoke again. “You missed the turn.”

His eyes shifted to me, but he didn’t respond.

My own eyes narrowed. “King, where are we going?”

Again, he didn’t answer.

“King!”

“I’m takin’ you to my place.”

Oh hell no he wasn’t. I sucked in a deep breath so I wouldn’t shriek at the top of my lungs. “Take. Me. Home.”

“Jena,” he said, his tone warning.

“I mean it, King. You take me to your house, I’ll walk home, I don’t care if I have to do it barefoot over broken glass.”

He must have heard the honesty in my voice because he muttered, “Fuck.” Then he found a place to make a U-turn.

“Do you even have any food in your house?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

He grunted. After passing a few other restaurants, he pulled into the parking lot of a fast food joint. I didn’t say a word as he went through the drive thru and ordered for me without even asking what I wanted.

Surprisingly, he got my favorite.

Ten minutes later, he turned into my apartment complex, parked next to my car, and helped me out of the truck. I didn’t argue as he followed me up to my second floor apartment and took the keys from my hand to open the door.

I followed him inside and watched as he carried the food into my little kitchen. Sighing, I dropped my bag on the table by the entryway.

Ignoring the way King was making himself at home, I trudged to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me, and kicked off my shoes. I stripped off my thigh high hose, unzipped my dress and dropped them both on the floor. A pair of flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt were lying across the foot of the bed, so I yanked them on before adding a pair of thick, woolly socks. After spending close to an hour at the graveside in the bitter January wind, I was chilled to the bone.

Closing my eyes, I rubbed my hands over my arms. It wasn’t just the weather that made me cold. It was the empty bed I slept in, the lonely nights, that had leeched the warmth from my body and my soul.

I jumped at the knock on my door. “Just a sec,” I called.

Quickly, I pulled my hair back into a messy knot on top of my head and opened the door. King stood there, with his shirt untucked and his arms crossed over his chest.

He looked me over from top to toe and his mouth got tight at the corners. “Come eat.”

Once again I didn’t argue and did as he said. The quicker we got this over with, the quicker I’d be rid of him. Hopefully forever.

We ate in my living room in complete silence. King didn’t even turn on the television. I finished about half of my cheeseburger and that was it, but he didn’t say anything.

Silently, he took my plate and disappeared into my kitchen. I heard him moving around in there, opening and closing cabinets, searching for something. I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes, wondering how much more I could take.

The clink of glass brought my head up. King sat next to me on the couch, two shot glasses and a bottle of Milagro in his hands. I realized he wasn’t joking about drinking after lunch.

He plunked both glasses on the table, topped them off with the clear liquor, and handed one to me. “To Justin.”

I lifted my glass slightly in a toast then tossed it back. As soon as I was done, King took the glass from me, refilled it, and handed it back. We did this three more times before he whisked up the glasses and bottle and carried them into the kitchen.

I realized I needed to pee, so I stood up and staggered slightly. The booze was hitting me hard since I’d barely eaten anything in days.

“Shit, Jena, let me help you,” King commanded as he came back into the living room.

I held out a hand to stop him. “I got it, I got it,” I mumbled.

Though I was clumsy, I made it past him and disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later, when I came out, King was standing at the end of the hall.

“It’s time to sleep, Jena,” he murmured.

Pretending he wasn’t there, I plodded toward my bedroom, weaving slightly, and collapsed on my bed. I lay there, quietly, staring at the wall and waiting for him to leave so I could get up.

“Fuck,” King whispered.

Once again, I ignored him. I just wanted him to go away and leave me alone. Having him in the privacy of my home, seeing me like this, only made things worse.

The bed dipped behind me. I heard one shoe hit the floor, then another, and turned over.

“King-” I began.

“Shhh, Jena. You need rest and you’re not gonna get it starin’ at the wall like that.”

I quickly turned away from him when he unbuttoned and pulled his shirt off his shoulders, revealing the black tank beneath it. My entire body was taut as he rolled into me.

Then I went completely rigid. “No, King-” I started again.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Jena,” he demanded, curving around me, his chest to my back, hips cupping mine, and his legs bending so that his knees tucked behind my own. His face was so close to my neck that I could feel his breath on my skin.

His arm wrapped around my waist, anchoring me close to him, and I lost all will to argue. It felt so good to be held that I no longer gave a damn who was doing it. I just needed the comfort. Between the warmth of his body surrounding me, my exhaustion, and the tequila, I was asleep within seconds.

Chapter Four

One year ago

‡

I looked around the bar, wondering what in the hell I was doing here. Before Justin died, this place used to be fun. Sure, it could get rowdy after nine, but Ashley, Katie, and I always enjoyed hanging out here on Thursdays during happy hour. Now it wasn’t the same. The clientele seemed rougher and brasher than before.

Everything had changed. Not just the bar, but Katie and Ashley.

Over the last year and a half, Katie became less and less the fun-loving, spontaneous girl she once was. Her skirts got shorter, her hair messier, and her make-up heavier. She also developed a sharp edge that scared the shit out of me. I don’t know what happened to my friend, but she wasn’t the same woman any more. At twenty-seven, she was hard and cold and looked almost a decade older than she was. She actually fit right into the crowd here.

Ashley didn’t hang out with us much either. The more Katie changed, the less Ashley came around. Our weekly Thursday happy hours became once a month adventures in awkwardness.

I kept organizing them because I needed my girls. It had been a year and a half since Justin died, but I still felt completely lost and utterly lonely. It was strange that I’d gotten so attached to him in the seven months we were together, but I had.

So I clung to my friends, hoping they would fill the gaps in my life. Looking back later, I would realize it was a stupid mistake, but I was so lonely I couldn’t see it at the time.

Even eighteen months later, I couldn’t let the ghost of my man go.

Justin had expected my undivided attention. He wanted to be the most important person in my life. He worked at it. I knew this because he told me, telling me at the same time that I was the most important person in his life. He used to bring me flowers just for the hell of it, take me to nice restaurants regularly, and tell me he loved me at least once a day.

He’d also been amazing in bed. Well, more amazing than any other man I’d ever been with. While it wasn’t as earth shattering as the sex I read about in romance novels, he made sure I came every single time. He made it his mission, even if it took a little more effort to get me there.