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“Try not to sound that surprised.”

Jesus, she was right. Iknewshe was. This was just a natural response—ostracized by my family with nowhere to turn but her, it was natural she’d become my whole universe. Even if I was going to shout it from the rooftops that I was bisexual and that loving a woman was as natural as breathing, I wasn’t going to pull this woman out of her life and carry her around with me.

Feeling this way about her was just the heat of the moment. But the moment was so heated that it was hard to see that bigger picture.

I shut the door, pulling out of Brooklyn’s arms to turn around and face her. “Show me,” I said, and she raised her eyebrows.

“Show you what? That I like you?”

I put my hands on her hips. “Yes,” I said. “We can go for a walk another time. Make me forget everything else… please?”

She softened, eyes flicking down over my body. She didn’t miss the implication—asking her less for sex and more tomake love. I felt my heart pounding, waiting for her response, a hundred things in my head that I managed not to say, until she finally slipped her hands up my shirt, holding my waist. “For as long as you like,” she whispered. “Until sunset, until sunrise…”

Ugh—Sunday was going to hurt like hell. I stepped forward, and I caught her lips with mine, throwing myself into her arms as we kissed deep enough I couldn’t think of anything but me and her.

Chapter 21

Brooklyn

Iunderstood Allison’s pain, a little, waking up on Saturday morning knowing I had a full shift slated to take away eight hours of my last full day with Ryan. I woke up earlier than usual, and my chest ached as I looked at her sleeping softly next to me, lips parted, her hair rumpled in the sheets.

She and her sister were both a menace, getting girls attached to them like this. I had myself to blame, too, though—should have just let her walk on out yesterday, go for a long walk, come back with more distance between us, and we’d be back to a fling.

Instead, I kissed her and told her how I didn’t want her to go, took her to the bedroom, made love to her for hours, took her out on the town and walked her through all my regular places, holding her hand like she was the other half of me, and watched the sunset together with her, her head resting on my shoulder and hands interlaced in my lap.

So, it was kind of on me.

I sighed, leaning over in the bed and kissing her temple softly. “You’re trouble,” I whispered, and when she didn’t stir, I moved, sliding out of bed and getting ready. No chance I was getting back to sleep with this heavy feeling churning in my veins, so I took the anxious energy and got it out of my system, pulling on my running shoes and getting out to jog to the strip of shops on the corner close by, stopping into the café. The owner, an older man named Daniel with thick glasses and major memory problems but who never forgot to beam and greet me by name when I went in, made me think for a minute that I was getting away with asking for pastries for two, but when he handed over the bag, he said,

“I picked out the best for your special guest.”

I plastered on a smile. “What, like I can’t eat two pastries?”

He chuckled. “I heard talk about you having a nice little friend over. I can’t remember who from, though.”

He definitely did remember this time. Man just knew not to rat out his sources. I sighed, taking the bag with a tired smile. “I’ll tell her you said hi.”

The world was full of reminders, because he smiled wider and said, “Is this one sticking around?”

I pretended to be busy fighting my card out of my wallet. “Nope… leaving tomorrow.”

As if I needed to talk about it. Let alone see the look of disappointment in his expression. I wasn’tthinkingabout it.

Which got harder when the doorbell chimed behind me, and I got interrupted on my way out of the café by a woman it took me a second to place as Ryan’s mother, slipping inside and stopping with a pointed look at me, looking me over.

“You’re Brooklyn, aren’t you?” she said, and I strained a smile.

“The one and only. Another thing I am, though, isin a hurry.”

She shook her head, coming out of the surprise and giving me a sheepish look. “I’m so sorry—I’m forgetting my manners. Do… do you have a second? I’m just… well, I just wanted to make sure Ryan is okay.”

I sighed, looking away, and I gave up—sank into one of the seats close to the door, dropping the bag on the table. “Ryan’s just fine,” I said quietly. “She’s a little distressed her family isn’t there for her. But she’ll be all right.”

She drew her lips in a tight line, sinking into the seat across from me. She was clearly well-off—not just the nice clothes and the Louis Vuitton bag, but her manner, the way she carried herself. “I know there are issues, but she’s… we are here for her.”

“Talk’s cheap, Mrs. Bell.”

She moved to speak and thought better of it, pursing her lips and letting her breath out slowly. She looked a few inches smaller when she spoke again, her voice smaller this time. “Can you tell her I’m sorry?”