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I clear my throat—an attempt to hide how his closeness makes my body start to throb—and take another sip. “And what would you rather me do?”

“Use one of your backups.”

“Ah.” I cock an eyebrow. “I get a second-rate sex toy, and you take her home for the real thing? Doesn’t sound very fair to me.”

Dean and Anna are talking about something that happened at school with the printing of report cards. Her eyes are wide; his hand not holding his sherry waves in outrage.

Ford brings his club soda up to his lips but doesn’t drink, just waits. We look at each other, my mind flying around like a tumbleweed in a windstorm. I couldn’t pinpoint one thought if there was a gun to my head.

“And if I’m not taking her home?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Tell me you don’t want me to.”

I give him a flat look.

“I mean it, Scotty,” he whispers. “Say the words, ‘don’t take her home,’ and I won’t.”

I can’t control the sharp breath I suck in nor the way my mouth opens. He sees, pulling the glass away from his mouth and licking his lips. And then I feel one thing stronger than the rest: longing. Despite all the hurt and time apart, there’s still a physical pull I can’t deny; even all these years later, I want him so badly it makes my already tight dress nearly smother me.

“I don’t care who you fuck,” I say with a flippant tone and another sip.

“I think you do.”

“I don’t.”

He pins me with a stare I return.

“Maybe I do.”

I chuckle softly. “Do what?”

“Care.”

I straighten, the same fire flickering in his eyes that’s burning up my whole body. “About?”

He leans in until his mouth is at my ear, whispering, “Who you fu—”

“Anyone need a drink?” Ben asks, bending the moment right in half. Dean and Anna return to their respective spaces, and Ford shifts away from me, all contact lost. All the while, my heart pounds so hard in my chest my ribs might crack.What just happened?

I raise my glass instantly. “Yep.”

Ben winks then grabs the whiskey, pouring to his usual mark. I gesture for more, needing it to drown the memory of how Ford was just looking at me, and he nearly fills the glass to the top. I down it like a college kid on spring break in Myrtle Beach: in a single gulp, all eyes on me.

“So, Anna,” I say, putting my empty glass down with a too-loud thud as she takes a delicate sip of her white wine, “see this guy conned you into another date. He must be a better lay than he used to be.”

Beside me, Dean chokes. However, unlike last time when Anna was shocked to silence, she straightens, resting one hand on Ford’sthigh. “I actually wouldn’t know because he stopped dating such easy women.” She smiles like she’s been practicing that line in the bathroom mirror.Cute.“We’re focusing on building a strong emotional foundation before letting anything physical distract us.”

When I realize she’s serious, a loud laugh bubbles out of me. I laugh so hard I smack the bar with a loudthwack.

Dean clears his throat next to me. “What’s funny?”

A muscle pops on Ford’s jaw. Any want that was in his face earlier is being replaced by anger.Good.

“Sweetheart,” I say, leaning into Ford’s space. “That means he’s soft for you. Did he tell you he had me handcuffed and pinned to his car just days ago?” She flicks her eyes to him; he cuts his gaze to me.

“Scotty,” he growls, tension ticking at his neck.