This girl was the reason for that elusive expression on her brother’s face on the drive over. He was in love with her. She knew this about him just like she knew he loved banana and peanut butter sandwiches and spent the first eight years of his life with a Rambo poster on his wall.

Cullen came up beside her. She was assailed by his scent. That faint hint of soap and laundry sheets and man. And something else. That thing she had smelled in his bed with him. A pheromone that belonged to him alone. Whatever it was, it shot a bolt of lust straight through her.

God. It was like she was a victim of her body. For a brief moment she was on her back again, his hand between her thighs, the salty musk of his skin swirling all around her. She salivated as though she was hungry. Starving. Only not for food. For him. For what he could give her. Last night had been a sample. Sometimes it gets a little rough. She knew there was more. So much more to be had. His body was built for pleasure, and she knew he would have sex like he did everything else. With focus and intensity and power.

“I don’t think he’s going to need a ride home,” he murmured beside her.

“No,” she said evenly, glad her voice came out normally. “Looks like he’s got that covered.”

Whatever was going on with her brother and this girl, it wasn’t meaningless for him. Her chest hollowed out a little watching Beck make out with a girl whose name she didn’t even know.

With Cullen beside her, she shifted nervously. She tried not to think about them. About them yesterday.

He had lit a fire within her. Stirred coals to life that had been long dormant. She needed to get laid and soon, before she threw herself at Cullen’s feet and begged him to finish what he had started.

Cullen propped a hand on the wall, his arm brushing along her back. “Well, good for Beck.”

She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. Yes. Good for her brother. He had found someone. He had been here all of three days and found someone. Meanwhile, she was a leper. Even Cullen didn’t want to seal the deal. Last night she had been his for the taking and he had stopped.

“Yeah,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound as shell-shocked as she felt.

“He deserves it.”

She turned to face Cullen, suddenly not wanting to talk about her brother and the happiness he’d found. Yes, he deserved it. Yes, she wanted him to be happy. But right now it only reminded her of how she got a fat fail when it came to relationships.

Cullen’s sculpted lips twitched like he wanted to smile, clearly pleased for her brother.

“And you don’t, Cullen?” she asked.

He turned to face her, his mouth all hard and flat again, a faint question in his eyes.

“Deserve happiness,” she clarified.

Okay, calling attention to his perpetual single status might not have been the way to go if she was trying to get things back on normal footing between them. She never questioned his lifestyle. She certainly didn’t pressure him to get serious and date any of his one-night stands.

His eyes grew more hooded, the dark depths shielding whatever was going on inside his head. “Don’t put me on your shrink’s couch, Huntley. I’m satisfied with my life. I think it’s you who isn’t happy.”

Cullen was right on that score. She’d joined a dating service because she wasn’t happy with the status quo. He knew that. But at least she was working on changing her life. Grandma always said there was nothing wrong with taking a hard look at your life and not liking what you saw. The wrong was in doing nothing to fix it.

She glanced back at her brother, still lip-locked with his girl, his big hands cupping her face like she was the most treasured, special thing in the world to him. She wanted that for herself. Returning her gaze to Cullen, she knew she wasn’t going to find that with him. Her stomach churned sickly. Suddenly that mattered a lot. It hurt. Even though she told herself not to let it, last night with him mattered.

Without another word, she turned and started down the long hallway. She’d text Beck later. She didn’t want to interrupt what was obviously an intimate moment. Besides, she had a coffee date tonight that she needed to get ready for. The first step to fixing her life. Grandma would be proud.

Cullen’s dress shoes clicked next to her. “Where are you headed?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, lifting one shoulder as she stepped out into fading sunlight, unwilling to tell him about her date for some reason. It felt weird confiding that after last night.

“Home. I’m kind of tired.” She winced over the implication that she hadn’t slept last night, but the words were out of her mouth before she could snatch them back.

He scanned the parking lot, his eyes squinting slightly against the sea of gleaming hoods and glinting windshields. “Guess I’m to blame for that.”

“No blame,” she quickly replied, her voice breathless. “It was a rough night. I get it.” The word rough conjured other ideas too. Conversation. Memories. The surety of his movements. He didn’t coax. He didn’t ask for permission. His fingers claimed their place between her legs like they belonged there, as though it was his right. Her body had only responded with invitation, panting and moaning and clinging to the sheets like a woman begging to be ridden.

He’d made her feel so small and feminine. His big shoulders wedging between her legs along with his hand, his fingers. The ridge of his erection had felt bigger than anything she ever encountered.

A moan welled up from her chest, and she bit her lip to trap it inside.

He shook his head and snorted lightly. “It was still wrong of me.”

Heat slapped her cheeks. That’s what he was calling what happened between them. Wrong. She stopped beside her car, punching the unlock button. “It’s okay. You were dealing with a heavy load yesterday and—”

“Don’t treat me like I’m some fragile soul, Huntley.” The warning rang in his voice. “Save that for your patients. I shouldn’t have—”

“Oh, I know you’re not fragile. Not an ounce of weakness in you.” She clucked her tongue and leaned back against the side of her car, looking up at him. “Nuh-uh. You’re the eternal soldier. Never weak. You carry the world on your shoulders and take the blame for everything.”

Suddenly, she felt very tired. Who was she to think she had all the answers and could fix him? It was enough effort to carve the life she wanted for herself. She couldn’t save him too.

She waved her hand slightly in a gesture of apology. “Look, let’s just forget last night. We’re friends.” She laughed once. “You’re probably the best friend I have here. I don’t want to mess that up, and I don’t want things to get weird.”

A muscle feathered along his jaw. “Agreed then. Let’s just forget it.”

She blinked and stared at him for a long moment. Squaring her shoulders, she tried not to feel offended that he could so easily forget it and move on when that was precisely what she was asking him to do.

“Good.” She nodded stiffly. “I mean, we didn’t even kiss.” Okay, this would be the point where she stopped talking. “We did that other … stuff … but we’ve never even kissed.” Sweet Jesus, she was babbling.

His head tilted to the side a fraction, his hooded eyes studying her, the corners of his well-carved mouth dipping as if that had not occurred to him. “No,” he said softly, his voice a deep purr that stroked her skin. “We skipped that.”

“Yeah.” She continued nodding like one of those bobblehead dolls. “Right? We haven’t even kissed, and that’s the most basic form of making out, right? Like first base. We skipped first base, so. So …”

God, Huntley, shut up. Before she could insert her foot any deeper in her mouth, she whirled around and unlocked her door.

She pulled it open and her spine collided with his chest. “Oh, excuse me.”