“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Cary barked.

“It’s not what you think.”

Trey came storming out of Cary’s bedroom in such a rush that I plastered myself to the hal way wal to get out of his way. Cary fol owed, with a sheet slung around his waist. As he passed me, I shot him a narrow-eyed glance that earned me a fuck-off middle finger.

I left the two men alone and escaped into my shower, angry at Cary for once again ruining something good in his life. It was a pattern I kept hoping he’d break, but he couldn’t seem to kick it.

When I came out to the kitchen a half hour later, the stil ness in the apartment was absolute. I focused on cooking dinner, deciding to go with a pork roast and new potatoes with asparagus, one of Cary’s favorite dinners, in case he was home for dinner and needed some cheering up.

The sight of Trey stepping into the hal way while I was putting the roast in the oven surprised me, and then it made me sad. I hated to see him leave looking flushed, disheveled, and crying. My pity turned to fierce disappointment when Cary joined me in the kitchen with the scent of male sweat and sex clinging to him.

He shot me a scowl as he passed me on his way to the wine fridge.

I faced him with my arms crossed. “Screwing a heartbroken lover on the same sheets he’s just caught you cheating on isn’t going to make things better.”

“Shut up, Eva.”

“He’s probably hating himself right now for giving in.”

“I said shut the fuck up.”

“Fine.” I turned away from him and focused on seasoning the potatoes to put in the oven with the roast.

Cary grabbed wineglasses out of the cupboard. “I can feel you judging me. Stop it. He wouldn’t be half as pissed if it’d been a man he caught me fucking.”

“It’s al his fault, huh?”

“Newsflash: Your love life isn’t perfect either.”

“Low blow, Cary. I’m not going to be your punching bag over this. You messed up, and then you made it worse. It’s al on you.”

“Don’t get on your damn high horse. You’re sleeping with a man who’s going to rape you any day now.”

“It’s not like that!”

He snorted and leaned his hip against the counter, his green eyes fil ed with pain and anger. “If you’re going to make excuses for him because he’s sleeping when he attacks you, you’l have to make those same excuses for drunks and druggies. They don’t know what they’re doing either.”

The truth of his words struck me hard, as did the fact that he was deliberately trying to wound me. “You can put down a bottle. You can’t quit sleeping.” Straightening, Cary opened the bottle he’d selected and poured two glasses, sliding one across the counter toward me. “If anyone knows what it’s like to be involved with people who hurt you, it’s me. You love him. You want to save him. But who’s going to save you, Eva? I’m not always going to be around when you’re with him and he’s a ticking time bomb.”

“You wanna talk about being in relationships that hurt, Cary?” I shot back, deflecting him away from my painful truths. “Did you screw Trey over to protect yourself? Did you figure you’d push him away before he had the chance to disappoint you?”

Cary’s mouth curved bitterly. He tapped his glass to mine, which stil sat on the counter. “Cheers to us, the seriously fucked up. At least we have each other.” He stalked out of the room and I deflated. I’d known this was coming—the unraveling of circumstances too good to be true. Contentment and happiness didn’t exist in my life for more than a few moments at a time, and they were real y only il usionary.

There was always something hidden. Lying in wait to spring up and ruin everything.

“Hey,” he said quietly, fol owing me back into the kitchen. “Smel s delicious in here.”