I didn’t respond when his gaze flicked to where Rome was standing. Crap. I tossed back the shot and made a face at him.

“You suck.”

“Only when asked nicely.” We shared a laugh and I looked up in surprise when a shadow fell over the edge of the table. I hated that I had to crank my neck back to look up at Rome. The scar on his forehead stood out in stark relief in the dim light of the bar. A muscle was twitching in his cheek and his normally iridescent eyes seemed kind of cloudy and dark.

“Can you tell Rule and Shaw I’ve had enough? I’m gonna bounce.” He sounded gruff and looked irritated at something. His leather limpet was nowhere to be seen.

“Enmity hasn’t even played yet.” Why I told him that I had no idea. Obviously the band hadn’t gone on stage yet. I was just being snippy and argumentative.

He narrowed his eyes at me and opened his mouth then shut it again like he had to rethink what he was going to say. He gave his head a tiny little shake like he was marshaling his thoughts.

“I’ve known Jet since he was a kid. I’ve seen him play a thousand times. I’m trying really hard not to drink, and if I stick around here one more second, that isn’t going to be possible.”

We stared at each other in silence. I didn’t know if I should take that as he shouldn’t drink anymore to avoid making mistakes like the one he made with me, or that he needed to stop drinking because he was out of control and it wasn’t helping matters.

Rowdy ordered us another round of shots and I saw Rome’s jaw clench. I wasn’t sure what was going on, so I defaulted to my usual glib manner.

“Captain No-Fun strikes again.”

I saw his dark brows lower and felt Rowdy tense next to me. It was rude and it was uncalled for, but before I could apologize, he put his hands on the table in front of me and bent down so that we were face-to-face. There was a storm brewing in that blue gaze and I didn’t think I wanted any part of it, or maybe I wanted to be the cause of it and that was why I was acting so awful.

“Pretty sure you know what my idea of a good time is. I’d be happy to remind you in case you forgot.”

My breath got caught in my throat and I saw Rowdy shift uncomfortably next to me.

“No thanks. I think Catwoman wants a turn.”

He sneered at me and started to walk away throwing over his shoulder, “You would know that there’s more than enough to go around, Half-Pint.”

It took me a second to catch my breath after he was gone. I couldn’t bring myself to watch and see if the brunette ended up leaving with him or not. Rowdy let out another low whistle.

“Dude, I didn’t think I would ever see the day anyone got the last word with you. Totally sideways.”

I ignored him and picked my beer back up. I couldn’t do this with Rome. Couldn’t run him off, these were his friends and family, too. I couldn’t be bitchy to him just because I was jealous and envious that his hotness was undeniable. I was going to have to put on my big-girl panties and have a showdown with him, have the talk that I really didn’t want to have and clear the air. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with him exactly, but there was something in all the messed-up ways we were around each other I didn’t think we could ignore. But first I was going to drink all the Jäger in Colorado and try to block out the image of that leather-clad skank with her paws all over him. I also was going to steadfastly avoid the knowing looks Rowdy kept shooting at me; either that or I was going to punch him in the nose.

The next morning I was feeling a little rough, but it was totally manageable, especially since all I had to do was throw on a cute sundress, slime some product in my hair, and slick some gloss on and be good to go. Short hair rocked. My sundress was bright turquoise, the same color as my odd blue eye, and it had a big sunflower in neon yellow on the hem. It was bright and cheerful, so I figured no matter how grouchy Rome was, he wouldn’t be able to stay too mad in the presence of such an awesome summer dress. Plus it made my legs look great and made it appear that I actually had some cleavage.

When I pulled up to the Victorian, Nash was coming down the front steps. He had stayed to shut the bar down with me and Rowdy, so he looked about as haggard as I felt. He had a ball hat pulled down low on his forehead and dark sunglasses covering half of his face. He pulled up short when he saw me and walked over to lean on the fender of the Cooper.

“What are you doing here?”

I tried not to fidget and pushed my own sunglasses up on my nose.

“I need to talk to Rome.”

I saw his eyebrows dip below the frames and the corner of his mouth turn down.

“Why?”

“Because I do. Leave it alone.”

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my bad idea, so back off. I just need to talk to him. Where are you off to so early?”

“I’m going to talk to my mother.”

I blinked in shock. It was no secret that Nash’s relationship with his mom and his stepdad was anything but rosy.

“Why on earth would you want to do that?”

“Because something is going on with Phil and I need help pinning him down. He’s dodging me left and right, so she’s my last resort.”

“Wasn’t Phil your real dad’s brother?”

He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. I could see even mentioning those dynamics made him uncomfortable.

“Yeah, but ever since I was little, I mean long before I even understood that my dad took off, Phil has been unable to tell my mother no. She says ‘jump,’ he asks her what river she wants him to leap into. It’s weird but I figure she’s the only way to get some answers.”

I patted his bicep and moved toward the front of the apartment they shared. “Good luck with that, it sounds like a whole lot of no fun.”

“He’s not here.”

I pulled up a step and looked back at Nash over my shoulder. Unbidden visions of Catwoman and her hands in Rome’s pants flew through my head. I didn’t like the way that they made my stomach drop at all.

“He didn’t come home last night?” I could hear the dissatisfaction in my tone and clearly it wasn’t lost on Nash because he scowled at me.

“No, he was here when I got home. Alone. He just doesn’t sleep so great, ya know? He was up really, really early. I think he went running or something. You want me to let you inside so you can wait for him?”

I nodded. I needed a cup of coffee and a second to formulate what I wanted to say to Rome.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Cora. Rome isn’t the kind of guy you can just manipulate and twist around your cute little finger. What happened to holding out for Mr. Perfect?”

I made myself at home in the small kitchen and pulled my sunglasses off to set them on the breakfast bar that separated the very masculine living room from the even more manly kitchen.

“Stop being such a worrywart, I just want to talk to the guy.”

He headed back toward the front door but his words stayed with me after he shut it behind him.

“Talking with you is what normally gets people into the most trouble.”

I appreciated that the guys were worried about me. I didn’t have the best track record with disappointment and boys, and I had been going on for a long time about my perfect man. They all knew I was after a guy that seemed rock solid, that wasn’t carrying around a truckload of emotional baggage, that came across happy and set with his lot in life. They knew I was ready for a guy who wanted to promise me forever and a future that was as bright and shiny as I tended to be. I wanted the happy-ever-after that Rule had given Shaw and the peace of mind that Jet had given Ayden. I wanted a partner and someone who was ready to travel the long, twisting road of commitment with me.

It made sense that they could all see that Rome was almost the exact opposite of what I had been describing, so they were just trying to save me from more unnecessary heartache because by now it was obvious he was getting to me. I just didn’t know if my idea of what I was holding out for was a viable option anymore. There was something happening between us—more than chemistry, more than wistful longing, and more than a little crush. I knew when a plan was falling apart. I had seen my first plan of a life with Jimmy go up in smoke and now I could see the idea of Mr. Perfect, this fictional ideal I had built up in my head, start to tatter under the force of everything that was Rome Archer. It didn’t matter that he seemed to be as lost as a child in the dark, that his baggage was heavier and harder to handle than most, or that he couldn’t even see his tomorrow, let alone a future with someone else. I wasn’t sure I was ready to fully let go of the dream just yet; only Rome was standing in the way of me getting my hands on it anymore. I couldn’t ignore that something was happening between us and it was time to stop being scared and find the answers to exactly what that something was.

I heard the front door open and heavy footsteps make their way toward where I was in the kitchen. I was rinsing off the dishes in the sink, mostly because I needed something to do with my hands, but also because they looked like they had been there for a while. Gross.

“What are you doing here?”

The tone was not nice. There was no welcome, none of the flirty and teasing he normally tossed at me. It sounded like each word was having to fight its way out of somewhere deep in his chest and that they tasted bitter and sharp on his tongue. I wiped my hands on a dish towel and turned around to face him.

Holy hell. How was I supposed to have a coherent, grown-up conversation with the man when he was wearing only a pair of black track pants and an iPod holder wrapped around one bicep? His dark hair was even darker with sweat and all those muscles and planes that made up his amazing physique were standing out in stark relief since he wasn’t wearing a shirt and had clearly just put himself through some serious paces. That just wasn’t fair.