“Parker’s dad. When he left, I was determined to have Parker and be the best mom. I was already having a baby in high school, but I didn’t want to be a statistic, you know? So ever since that day when he broke up with me, I have to be able to handle every situation by myself, I don’t want to be one of those single moms who constantly has to rely on her family just to get by. Because Austin left us and it was so bad with my parents at first when they found out, I knew I had to be a certain way for Parker. So I hate asking for help. I like knowing I can do it on my own. But my family still thinks they need to watch out for Parker and me. Like they need to protect us because I’m not allowing anyone else to do it. So even though they want me to date, bringing someone into Parker’s life isn’t as easy as me thinking he would be good for me, and good to Parker . . . my whole family has to agree.”

Coen didn’t say anything, and because of the traffic, I couldn’t look at him again. Knowing he’d been mad, the quiet was making me uneasy.

“And that was exactly how it all happened tonight. Keegan was looking at you like an enemy instead of his best friend, my dad was sizing you up, my mom . . . God, my mom—­”

“She doesn’t like the way I look.” Coen laughed softly and shifted in the seat. “I noticed.”

I grimaced and rubbed at my forehead. “It doesn’t matter if she does or doesn’t. She obviously got over it. But that’s just it . . . to make it all the more confusing. My family—­who wanted nothing more than for me to start dating—­all about had heart attacks when they thought I was dating someone, and none of them were happy about it. But a ­couple hours later, my mom is taking my son for the night so I can spend time with you, and I have no doubt she’s going to be online picking out my wedding dress once he’s asleep.” I groaned and slapped my hand back on the steering wheel before I gasped in horror. “Not that we’re getting married! Jesus.”

Coen’s loud laugh filled my car, and I was positive I was bright red.

“God, just . . . act like I didn’t say that.”

“No can do, Duchess. It’s replaying in my head over and over.” He laughed when I groaned again, and after a few minutes said, “I get what you’re saying, but I’m going to be honest with you. I know we’re not really anything yet, but I’m just letting you know now that we won’t be anything at all if this is how it’s going to be. You being afraid to tell your family about me. You leaving me to answer the questions about us when you look like you’re going to throw up because I’m in the same room with them. I’m not gonna deal with that shit.”

“Coen, I’m sorry. I hadn’t been ready for that and I couldn’t figure out what to do. Part of me wanted to go into your arms, and the other part was terrified of how my family was going to react. And I just froze.”

He didn’t say anything for the next few minutes until I was in the parking lot of his studio, and next to his car. With a hard breath through his nose, he unclicked his seat belt and got out of the car.

My stomach clenched and my head dropped as I realized I’d somehow made this worse. I needed to learn how to shut up. My head snapped to the left when my door opened and he stepped back.

“Get out.”

“What?” I looked around the otherwise empty parking lot before looking back at him. “Why?”

“Just get out of the car, Duchess.”

I stumbled my way out, and gasped when he pushed me against the back door, pressing both his forearms on the window on either side of my head, caging me in.

“This is where you decide,” he said gruffly. “Hudson told me you were independent, and you just told me you get scared if you can’t do something by yourself. You didn’t have to tell me you don’t like ­people helping you for me to figure that out, but you’re not just stopping ­people from helping you, Reagan. You’re stopping anyone except from your family from getting too close. And that includes me.”

“But—­”

“You’re scared, that’s fine. But why can’t you just see where this goes, huh? For once, let someone else be in control. Let me be there for you, let me help you—­” He must have seen the panic in my eyes, because he quickly added, “by just being there for you. Like tonight. Was it so hard for you that I got Parker to eat the rest of his food? Did that make you feel like you didn’t have control of the situation? And don’t fucking lie to me, I need to know if I messed up by doing—­”

“No,” I whispered, and realized he was right. The same smile I’d had to cover in the restaurant was back, but this time, I just stood there staring at him in awe. “Watching you two together like that was . . . I don’t even know how to describe it, Coen. But not once did it bother me that you were trying to get him to eat. I—­to be honest, I loved watching you.”

Coen’s lips tilted up in a soft smile, and his dark eyes slowly moved over my face. “You need to make the decision. Do you want to try letting me in?” He leaned in close so his breath washed over my lips. “Letting me help you doesn’t mean you can’t do this alone, Reagan. Everyone knows you can, but you shouldn’t have to.”

“Coen . . .”

“Yes or no, Duchess.”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation, and moaned into his mouth when his lips met mine.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled our bodies closer and groaned my aggravation when his phone rang.

“Yeah?” he answered, and bit down on my bottom lip. “I’m kissing your sister, leave me alone.”

“I can’t believe you just told him that!” I huffed, and pushed back on his chest.

“Yeah, he’s probably going to kick my ass for that one.” Capturing my lips with his again, he ran his tongue along mine and whispered, “Don’t care. But they’re waiting for us at my place, so we should go.”

With one last soft, teasing kiss, he pulled back and I asked, “Why?”

“Uh . . . because then he’d just show up here and beat me up?”

I laughed and pushed against his stomach when he stole another kiss. “No, why did you do all this? It hasn’t even been a week since we’ve actually started talking, so why would you put up with me? I know I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you too many times to count since I first saw you, and we mostly argue, so why would you care to stick around to see what could happen? You could have your pick of girls, ones who wouldn’t have kids. I just—­I just don’t understand why you want to see where this goes so badly.”

Coen raised one eyebrow at me. “Don’t you?”

“I do, but I’m asking you.”

He stayed quiet for a few moments as he thought, and for a while, I didn’t think he would answer me. “I don’t do relationships, Reagan. I’ve just never been that guy . . . I’ve always thought they were pointless, to tell you the truth. I didn’t want to deal with the headache of them. And, Duchess, you are proving to be one massive headache that I can’t seem to get enough of.” He smiled, but it quickly fell.

This was so not going where I thought it’d been about to. “Then why?”

“You want to know why I want this? Why the guy who thinks relationships are a waste of time wants the girl who’s scared of them so goddamn bad?” When I nodded, he swallowed hard and looked away for a few seconds. When he finally looked back at me, his face was somber. “Because I found someone who chases away my demons just by looking at me. I had a girl more or less fall into my arms who can make me forget everything just by saying my name. Why wouldn’t I push for this?”

My mouth fell open at his words, and I just sat there staring at him. I couldn’t figure out a response to such a soul-­baring confession, I only knew that I wanted to be her. It didn’t matter that I knew he was talking about me; in my mind, I was just Reagan. There was no way for me to be that person to someone else . . . but with the depth of emotion in his words . . . I knew he’d meant every single one of them.

“That is why I want this. That is why I put up with you when you’re being unreasonable. That is why—­after a week and a half since meeting you—­I would do anything to see where we could go. I’m not declaring my love for you, because I’m not in love with you . . . yet. But I’ve never met anyone like you. And that’s not some bullshit line meant to make you fall for me. I never expected to find you; I didn’t know someone like you existed. I never knew there could be a relief from the agony I go through every day, and I don’t know what I did to deserve it. But after having that relief, after having you near me . . . Reagan, I crave you. And I can tell you right now it isn’t just because you silence my demons. I crave the peace you give me, yeah . . . but I crave your laugh, your love for your son, and this more.” He cupped his hand around the side of my neck, and my breathing quickened as the place where he was touching warmed. If I looked down, I knew my arms would once again be covered in goose bumps. “You feel that.”

It wasn’t a question, but I still nodded my head slowly.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, and for the first time since he started explaining to me why he wanted this, his eyes left mine—­but only to fall over my face for a few seconds. “Did I just scare you with everything I said?”

“No,” I said so softly, I might have only mouthed it.

Coen’s lips formed a sad smile, and I cupped his face in my hands.

“You didn’t. I hadn’t . . . well I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but definitely not something that beautiful.”

“Beautiful?”

“Yeah, Coen, that was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me. All of it—­including the demons.”

“You’re wondering about them,” he guessed.