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Troy blinked, his features going rigid.

“Let’s not,” he said after a long pause.

Dean’s brow rose, and he let out a low whistle. “Wow, that must be something.”

Troy cleared his throat, turning his attention back to his tablet. “It’s not really...it’s in the past.”

“Am I allowed to guess?”

Troy groaned. “Dean, c’mon.”

“Because I’m not going to lie, I was under the impression that Mr. Troy Boaz had always been ‘an independent woman who didn’t need no man.’ But I’m starting to think that what walked in here yesterday was, in fact, a man you did need once upon a time.”

“Wow, thank you. That makes me feel so much better.”

Dean’s smile turned sympathetic. “So I’m right, he’s an old flame.”

“Theonlyflame,” Troy corrected.

“Considering how the two of you were acting yesterday, I think making it present tense was a good call,” Dean said.

Troy frowned. “I’m...no, Dean, no.”

Troy had moved past that point in his life and become his own person who didn’t ache because Oscar had so easily moved on without him. Troy had come out to his parents, friends, and anyone who knew him in his junior year of high school, and he’d tried his hand at dating but never found anything to encourage further attempts. People were strange, fickle, emotional creatures, and unreliable. Troy had never been burned before he graduated high school, but he had been grazed by the teeth that love possessed.

Then Oscar happened.

The noiseof the party bore down around him, enveloping him in the familiar sounds of drunken voices and bad music.Troy was about as drunk as he was willing to let himself get, which, admittedly, was pretty drunk. He was also enjoying the attention of the well-built, blond-haired private, who thought he was God’s gift to men and women, leaning over Troy as they talked.

Troy was more than willing to let the man think he was saying all the right things, believing he was going to score. Not that Troy had an issue with having a bit of fun with someone, no strings attached was so much more fun than the pathetic attempts at dating during his high school days. But it would be an insult if he let the guy actually get laid when his game was as weak as a broken wrist.

He was making a good show of pretending to listen while wondering when the man would cut to the chase and try to get into Troy’s pants. Troy was seriously considering what he would say when the probably cheesy and arrogant pick-up line came when a shout brought him out of his thoughts. Before he and whatever the guy’s name was could react, a huge shape barreled into them both. The man smacked against Troy, sending them both sprawling on the ground.

“Oh, hell,” Troy muttered, wondering if he was sober enough and knew enough to try putting his medical knowledge to use for what was obviously a drunken brawl.

The huge man who’d collided with them lashed out at whoever had pushed him, catching his opponent across the jaw. Troy winced as he disentangled himself, watching the unknown opponent collapse backward into his friend’s arms.

“Tell your friend to learn how to fucking fight before he starts shit over some girl he just met,” the man above him growled.

“You tell ’em,” Troy muttered.

The man whirled around, though Troy couldn’t believe he’d heard him over the blaring music. Jesus, the guy was evenbigger when he was facing Troy, looking like he’d spent years doing nothing but lifting weights that probably outweighed Troy. His dark eyes blazed, falling on Troy’s face.

“What?” the man demanded.

Troy’s heart skipped a beat, amused to find himself enamored with the stranger’s burning gaze. “I said, you tell ’em. Now, do you mind helping me up since you took me out?”

“And me,” the man who’d been trying to hit on him grumbled from the ground.

“Good, stay there because you were about to get rejected hard enough that you might as well have laid down anyway,” Troy told him, holding his hand out to the standing stranger.

The man smirked, taking hold of Troy’s hand and yanking him to his feet. “You got a mouth on you.”

Troy flew forward with a surprised grunt, almost smacking into the man’s chest. “Yeah, and you can call me Troy.”

“Oscar.”

Oscar.