One of the benefits of staying home is that I’ve been able to keep up with my laundry. As in, I’ve actually managed to put it away. It feels strange to stand inside my closet looking at neatly arranged clothes instead of rummaging through the mountain I usually dump on the floor. I have to admit, it makes the process much easier.

Spotting a cobalt blue maxi dress, I tug it from the hanger and select a pair of tall black pumps to go with it. Laying the dress out on my bed, I pull my pajamas off and kick them away. Giddy anticipation fills me as I step into the clingy material. Tonight, I want to get wasted and forget the last couple days—hell, the last few months—ever happened.

After dusting on some blush and glossing my lips, I pull my hair back into a high ponytail. I perform a final inspection in the mirror and smile. I love this dress. It makes me appear taller and curvier than I really am and the color compliments my eyes.

Scooping up my shoes, I head back into the living room. “Give the lady an award,” I announce proudly. “I do believe I just set a record for getting ready.”

My feet slow as I catch sight of Brody on my couch. His big body is sprawled sideways across the length of it, one leg propped on an armrest, an arm dangling off the side. At the opposite end of the couch, his head his nestled in a tangerine satin throw pillow, his features slack.

“Are you serious?” I smile and laugh as I approach, expecting him to jump up any second. But the closer I get, the more my smile falls. “This is a joke, right? You’re not actually sleeping, are you?”

Reaching his side, I bend down and press my hand to his hard pec. Then I shake him violently. He doesn’t move an inch.

Frowning, I decide to wait him out in case he really is playing a trick on me. But as the minutes tick by and he begins to snore softly, I realize he’s not getting up.

My heart falls a little in disappointment, taking my good mood with it. Well, that’s that. Looks like another night stuck inside.

“Joy.”

Setting my shoes on the table, I lean over Brody and untuck the blanket trapped under his legs. It takes some work, but I finally manage to free it, and then I drape it over him. He’s sleeping like the dead, which I guess is good for him. Between the hours he puts in at school, at work, and on the field, I’m sure he needs it.

Grabbing the remote, I curl up in the chair across from him and aim it at the television. As I sign back into Netflix, I figure maybe I will get to catch up on Teen Wolf after all.

TWO

I finish my set and walk backstage to the dressing room. It’s Monday. I didn’t expect to see Rebel on the floor again tonight, but he was, and I can’t shake the look in his eyes as he watched me dance. It’s hard to explain, but something about it makes my skin feel hypersensitive.

My mood is still dark following last night’s bust. After Brody had fallen asleep, I binged on old episodes of Vampire Diaries and Teen Wolf. Hey, a girl’s got to find escape where she can, and television shows packed full of hot guys isn’t a bad way to do it, but it wasn’t enough to erase this funk I’ve found myself in.

The tug of war going on inside my head feels like a boulder, pinning me down with its weight. Despite how much I hate feeling this way, seeing Rebel out there tonight only increases my urgency to get back home and hide under a blanket.

Once I’m dressed in my street clothes—a pair of dark jeans and three-quarter sleeve billowing black V-neck blouse with a cinched waist—I hurry toward my car like my ass is on fire. I don’t want to talk to him tonight. Or any night, for that matter.

Just the thought of it causes me to break out in a sweat.

Leaping into the front seat, I lock the doors with one hand and turn the car on with the other. I don’t breathe right until the car is in motion.

It’s as I am backing out of my parking spot that I glance up to see the back emergency exit door swing open. The lighting out here is terrible, but I can tell by the height and bulk of the person who steps out that it’s Rebel.

He’s looking for me. His head swings around and I can tell the instant he spots my car. His face is cast in heavy shadows, but his body language is stiff and menacing. He takes a step forward, and I feel a flare of panic in my gut.

Pressing my foot on the accelerator, I speed toward the main street. The path takes me right past where he is standing, and as I get closer, I am finally able to see him clearly.

Hard anger burns in his dark eyes as I pass by. I cringe and focus all my attention straight ahead. It’s a coward’s move, I know. But I don’t have the first clue how to handle any of this.

Dating two brothers at once is bad enough. Wanting them both is even worse. Even if I was to choose, there’s no guarantee either of them still want me back. Rebel’s and my relationship was purely superficial, and I have no idea where Ransom and I were headed. It felt like we were building up to something, but now he won’t even speak to me. Or I won’t speak to him. All of this is making my head swim. Whatever. Not talking is fine with me. I need the space and time to clear my head.

The only thing that concerns me right now is finding out what Rebel wants from me. Clearly, it’s something, or he wouldn’t keep showing up at my job. Thankfully, he doesn’t know much else about me. Unless Ransom tells him where I live, my home is still a safe haven.

I regret the thought the instant I pull up in front of my apartment. What is this, stalk Josephine night?

The sleek silver BMW would catch anyone’s eye, but parked beside older model cars driven by fellow students, it sticks out like a sore thumb.

I’d know that car anywhere. I looked under its hood once, but the car isn’t what stuck in my head. It was the owner.

Ransom is here. Ten to one says he’s waiting for me, and I have to ask myself who or what I’ve pissed off to earn this kind of punishment. Can’t these men just leave me alone?

My legs tremble as I step out of the car and walk the few steps to the building. I live on the second floor, first door on the right, so when I walk through the entrance, I see Ransom right away. He’s sitting on the top step just outside my door. His head his bowed, his black hair gleaming under the overhead lights, one knee bent up to his chest with the opposite foot resting two stairs below.

I pause, my nerves growing exponentially, and just watch him there. He looks so relaxed like he’s been waiting awhile.

I step further inside, letting the door close behind me. At the soft whoosh, Ransom lifts his head. His eyes are dull at first, but they brighten as he looks me over. I don’t know what he’s seeing, but the way he eyes me makes me tingle all over.

I take the first few steps hesitantly, my pace quickening as I continue to climb. Ransom gets to his feet as I reach the top, and stands aside to let me pass.

I’m not about to go inside. Ransom never gave me back my key, so I am hyper aware that he could let himself in whenever he wants. But he hasn’t yet, so I have to believe that he won’t push the issue now.

I think of asking for my key back, but my voice seems to be stuck in my throat. I don’t know what to say, so I croak out a simple, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Ransom’s stern countenance eases into a soft smile as he stares down at me. His expression rocks me, and I look away, twisting my keys around my finger. It’s a nervous gesture that totally gives me away, but he doesn’t comment on it.

The pressure to say something builds between us like a tangible thing, charging the air. My eyes dart around the empty hallway as the tension continues to grow, and, inside my head, a little voice screams at me to say something. Mercifully, Ransom speaks first.