Bingo. “What? Of course I do. Why would I lie about having asthma? And how do you know if I have it or not?” Maybe that was defending myself too passionately. I shut my mouth, cheeks just a little hot that he had busted me in my lie.

“I know because I’ve seen you outside in the middle of winter, I’ve seen you dance all night at a club, and I’ve seen you talk enough to make your teeth ache, but I’ve never once seen you use an inhaler. And you’ve never mentioned it before, and Tyler and Nathan smoke in the apartment all the time.”

Damn it. Why couldn’t he be an idiot? It would be much easier to manipulate him that way. “Fine, you’re right. But I am sensitive to the smoke. Besides, opening the window will let some of the heat out.”

“It lets heat in.”

“No, it doesn’t. How does that even make sense?” I sat on the couch and my ass almost hit the floor I sank so deep. It was like being bear-hugged by a marshmallow.

“How many houses without AC have you lived in?”

What could I say to that? “None. But that doesn’t change the fact that your logic is illogical.”

“That’s an absurd statement. And it’s true. You keep the windows closed and covered during the day, open them to the breeze at night.”

“So what time can I open them? Is there like a set time? Or do they just automatically fly open at sunset?” I coughed, which was actually an accident. The smoke haze really was getting to me. Or maybe I just needed a drink of water, but either way, it was bad timing.

Riley gave a snort of laughter. “Oh, princess, you won’t win any Oscars, but I give you points for trying. Look, I think we need some house rules.”

“Oh, goodie.”

“Let’s go sit outside for a minute and we can discuss it.”

Why did I feel so suspicious? I eyed him. “Why?”

“Because it doesn’t stink out there. Well, not like smoke anyway.”

“Are you being thoughtful?” I asked, teasing, but kind of touched.

“Yeah, I suppose I am, so you better enjoy it while you can.”

Then again, I wasn’t sure how thoughtful it really was when he reached for a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table and grabbed them.

Maybe a house rule could be that he had to wear a shirt, because his bare skin was messing with my head. And my hormones. He had the same tattoo as Tyler, the words TRUE FAMILY on his bicep in a tribal script. Rory had told me TRUE were the guys’ initials, meant to signify their solidarity. How they were always there for each other, despite the fact that their father was in prison, and before she had died, their mother had been a negligent parent and drug abuser.

What would it be like to have a brother like that, instead of the self-serving, backstabbing one I had gotten? What would it be like to have Riley Mann loyal to you? A shiver ran through me despite the heat, and I focused on his other tattoos, the screaming skull that marched down his flank and the weird thing on his chest that may or may not have been a winged werewolf.

I followed him through the kitchen to the back door, where he took a seat at an old, peeling, and rotten picnic table. I sat gingerly on the opposite side, worried about splinters in my butt or at least getting lead paint poisoning from the chips that were clinging to my hands just from pressing my palms on the boards. Riley lit his cigarette and blew the smoke away from me. He smoked the same brand as his brother, and he looked similar enough to Tyler that there were moments that I wondered why I felt so much more on-guard around him than I did Tyler. Back before Tyler and Rory were together, I had even had sex with Tyler, more than once, and yet I thought of him as a friend, someone I was totally comfortable around. My reaction to Riley was different, and it really made no damn sense.

I was attracted to him in a way I never had been with Tyler, and it was annoying.

Maybe it was because Tyler was more sincere, where Riley hid his emotions behind humor. It meant he could be thinking or feeling anything. It was both annoying and sexy.

“So, house rules?” I asked him. “I can’t wait to hear where you’re going with this.” I was sure it would piss me off, and anger was better than sitting there thinking that he made my vag tingle.

“I don’t mean to be a dick,” he started.

Promising.

“But the thing is, it’s my house and I should be able to do whatever the fuck I want in my own house.”

Perfect. “If this is you not meaning to be a dick, I can’t wait to hear where the rest of this is going.”

He made a face and took another drag off of his cigarette. “But, while you’re here, I won’t smoke in the house. It’s summer, and there’s no reason I can’t come outside. Truthfully, Tyler is the real nicotine junkie in this house anyway. I only smoke two or three a day.”

That was actually pretty damn nice. Probably the nicest thing he’d ever said to me, and I had no smartass response to it. “Thanks.”

But then I couldn’t help but add, “If you only smoke two or three a day, why smoke at all?”

He made a face at me. “Who asked for your opinion?”

I was already in it. I might as well finish my true thoughts on the subject. It was one thing to ruin his own lungs, but kids never have a choice. They are forced to live like their parents or whoever is raising them. “I have to say, I don’t think secondhand smoke is good for Jayden and Easton.”

His younger brother Jayden was eighteen, and he had Down syndrome. He was always smiling and laughing, and he was easy to like. Easton was only eleven, and who his father was seemed to be a mystery. He was quiet and serious, and the few times I had seen him, he gave me the willies, I can’t lie. But that didn’t mean he deserved lung cancer at eleven years old because of his brothers.

Riley’s jaw clenched, and I knew I had made him mad. “House Rule Number One: Mind your own fucking business.”

“That’s kind of vague,” I complained. “I mean, I’m staying in your house, so I am sort of in your business unintentionally.”

“How about this? You’re staying here for free and I’m letting you. If you criticize the way I’m taking care of my brothers, I’ll throw you and your pink luggage out into the fucking street.” And he blew a huge cloud of smoke right into my face.

Okay, so maybe I had gone too far. I didn’t mean to actually imply he was doing a shitty job with his brothers. Well, I guess I had in regard to the smoking issue, but that wasn’t a general statement about his surrogate parenting. “Got it. Sorry.”

“That about killed you to say, didn’t it?” he asked, with a sudden grin.

Yes. “Of course not. I was wrong. Just because it isn’t healthy for the boys doesn’t mean I should point that out to you.” Hmm. That wasn’t really a great apology. I tried to channel my New Hope bible study personality—the one that was polite and kind and nonjudgmental. But that part of me seemed to be missing whenever I wasn’t in my hometown of Troy, and most of the time I liked it that way.

Riley rolled his eyes. “Rule Number Two: Don’t piss me off.”

“I was thinking these rules would be more like along the lines of wash your dirty dishes and lock the house when you leave. You know, specific things. I feel like you’re setting me up to fail.”

“I feel like you’re setting me up to have an ulcer.” He clutched his chest like he was in pain and grimaced. “Or have a heart attack.”

I laughed. “Now who wants an Oscar?”

“I get up at seven for work.”

“A.M.? Ew.”

“So I would appreciate it if you don’t make a ton of noise after eleven at night since I’ll be in bed.”

Why did a shiver just roll up my spine? It was eight billion degrees outside. Oh, yeah, I knew why. It was Riley mentioning the “b” word. Now I was picturing him naked with a sheet up to his waist. “Sure, no problem. I usually work three to eleven, so I’ll be quiet when I come in.”

“You’re not planning on taking the bus back here at night, are you?” The very thought looked like it was increasing the pain in his chest.