“What’s wrong?” I ask her. Marna tries to pipe up, and I say, “Not you, Marn. Hang on.” I put the phone to my shoulder and look at the frowning Anna.

“My roommate is coming home and doesn’t feel good—she doesn’t want any people over.” She pushes straight strands behind her ear.

A sickening sort of determination to prove just how much I don’t care comes over me. “Brilliant,” I say. Anna’s eyebrows come together in confusion until I say, “Party at my place, then.”

She slowly grins. “Really?” Her excitement makes my gut twist with nervous guilt, but I ignore it. I’ve put this girl off for too long. And for what reason? If my Anna is moving on . . . I shake my head. Not “my” Anna. She’s never been mine.

Raj bounds over and slaps me on the shoulder. I put the phone back at my ear as word spreads that I’m having people over. My parties used to be epic, so the guys are stoked.

“Gotta go, Marn. Fun to be had.”

“Don’t do it, Kai. It’s not—”

“Bye, then.”

I hang up and my stomach turns. For the first time, I don’t try to move away or escape when Anna talks to me, playfully pushing my arm or slapping my knee. She can sense the difference. I see it in the way she’s searching my face, wondering if I’ve finally seen the light.

Yes. Yes, I have. And it’s blinding.

She’s filled with happiness and excitement, bright and shining.

I give her my attention, but my chest is filled with a hive of stinging hornets.

We waste no time moving the festivities to my place, and soon it’s overflowing with people. The party fills the whole apartment complex as neighbors open their doors and filter over. Music blasts from my speakers loud enough to shake the floors, just how I like it. Everywhere I look people are drunk, high, dancing, snogging, falling on one another, laughing. Anna sits between Raj and Bennett on the couch, playing a drinking game with cards.

I lean against the wall, watching as people drift past. My rage has not subsided. It’s still in my eyes when Anna glances up and catches my gaze. She appears taken aback by the intensity there, her aura zapping with excitement and trepidation. Her guardian angel sees this and starts whispering to her. I want to tell the poor fellow not to waste his spiritual breath.

I raise two fingers and beckon her to me. Without a word to the other guys, Anna gets up and makes her way through the crowd, nervous but determined. They watch her. She stands before me now, breathing faster.

“What’s up? Are you okay?”

“No, actually.”

“Um.” She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “So . . . what’s wrong?”

I’ve told Anna on numerous occasions I don’t date people I work with, that I’m not dating material anyhow, and that I’ve got loads of crap going on in my life. It has been enough to keep her at bay so far, and yet here she is.

“A lot is wrong with me, Anna. But I think you’ve figured that out by now, yeah?” My hand snakes around to the back of her neck, and I feel the light vibration of her breathy moan as I pull her closer. Her aura pops with shock and elation. My body is steady, but inside I’m shaking, driven by everything I refuse to feel.

“Can I . . . help you?” she asks.

“I think you can.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I give my body permission to take over. My mouth covers hers. At the feel of her lips, months’ worth of desire explodes through me. I back her roughly against the wall, and she grabs the back of my shirt in her fists. From across the room the entire band hollers their approval, but I can hardly hear.

I know I have to control myself, because I can and will hurt her if I don’t. I break the kiss and take her by the hand, pulling her to my room. It’s packed with people. I don’t have the patience to wait for them to leave, so I pull her into the bathroom. She grabs my face the second the door is closed and we’re kissing again. She doesn’t protest when I pull off her shirt or strip down her jeans. And she definitely doesn’t protest when I raise my own shirt over my head and drop it to the floor.

“Holy shit, Kai,” she breathes, running her hands over my chest and stomach. “You should just walk with your shirt off all the time.” Her eyes dart up to mine as if she’s horrified she’s just said that out loud. I kiss her again, but she keeps breaking the kiss to look at me, and kiss me again. For some reason I cannot take it—cannot stand being looked at right now. I turn her and press her against the bathroom door. It has the desired effect. Her palms are against the door, face turned to the side, hips pushing back against the front of me in a way that makes me grab her hips and groan.

I need more.

I reach around to her front and slide my hand down her stomach, and into her knickers. I use my other hand to hold her up, and it doesn’t take long until she’s squirming, moaning, out of breath, weak-kneed. I hold her up until she stills.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” she whispers between breaths.

The scent of her lust surrounds us, and the familiar sensation of emptiness begins spreading through me.

She turns to me and takes my face again. I close my eyes and let her kiss me slowly. Suddenly, moisture builds behind my lids, and I have the powerful urge to cry. I’ve had moments of emotion lately, but I haven’t truly had the urge to cry like this since I was a child. My throat is dangerously tight.

“Kai . . .” She whispers my name against my mouth, but I cannot open my eyes. Her hands move down my sides to the front of my jeans. She undoes them, and touches me with a gasp. My hands are on her waist and I tighten my grip.

“Anna . . .” When I say that name I’m far away, and the saddest, most heart-wrenching sense of wrongness invades me. This is not who I want touching me. I can’t do this.

I gently grab her wrist, and wrench the word from my throat. “Wait.”

I open my eyes and find her staring at me. I pull away, and with great effort manage to zip up my jeans. My abdomen clenches with a stab of pain.

“God,” she says. “I’m sorry, I . . . What’s wrong?” Her voice quivers. I lean my forehead against hers because she’s such a sweet girl and she doesn’t deserve to be dragged into my train wreck of a life.

In that horrible moment I know that no lie or feeble excuse will do. I clear my throat and stand straight to look at her.

“Last year, when I moved here.” I clear my throat again. “I . . . there was a girl. In Georgia. She’s sort of . . .” I am tongue-tied, having never spoken these feelings out loud.

“You love her?”

I search the wall over her head before I nod. “Yeah. And her name is also Anna.”

“Oh.” She snorts and crosses her arms, looking down. “No wonder.”

“I’m sorry. I had an awful day and I’m an absolute idiot to have put you in the middle of it.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s . . . whatever. No biggie.” But her aura says otherwise.

She reaches for her jeans and I hand her her shirt. I snatch up my own and pull it over my head. As she’s buttoning her bottoms with shaking hands I reach for the door.

“You’re an amazing girl, Anna Malone. I truly am sorry.”

Her eyes are watering when she looks up at me just before I leave her. I push my way through the crowded apartment. At the couch I ignore the jeers of my mates, and shake my head at Raj’s offer to do a line of coke. Instead, I lean down and swipe Bennett’s pack of cigarettes and leave the apartment. I walk all night and smoke the entire pack. I will spend the day tomorrow hacking up tar, but I don’t care.

I just don’t care anymore.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE