But his reasons didn’t make it any easier to accept. There’d been many roads to choose from, but Dalton had chosen to turn away from the precious seed beginning to grow between them. No amount of force or begging or even sex changed the result of a person’s decision.

But why had he come back? Why throw another woman in her face? Was he still so enraged he needed to strike out? Prove a point? Was there nothing left of them he wanted to remember that was good?

Raven stood up, wiping the last tear from her cheek. She couldn’t do this to herself any longer. She’d been holding on to a false hope that with more time, he’d come see her. Tonight proved there was nothing left between them.

She owed it to herself to truly move on. Seeing Morgan and Dalton’s brothers was hard, but they were kind to her, and she’d forged a friendship with Morgan and Sydney that was important. She wouldn’t let him take that from her, too.

Reaching down for inner strength, she said a silent good-bye to the man she loved, knowing they both had to choose each other or there could never be a chance for either of them.

She wasn’t going to be a martyr any longer. If he wanted to go back to his usual ways of seducing women, he could do it someplace else, not in her safe haven. She had a right to peace here, at least, until she healed.

Raven went back inside with a new determination.

chapter twenty-seven

The door banged open.

Dalton blinked and burrowed deeper under the covers. “Get out,” he mumbled, smashing his face into the pillow.

“Fuck, man. It smells in here.”

The clatter of a bottle hit his ears. Shuffling feet echoed. What time was it? Why was someone here in the middle of the night? He lifted his head a fraction, squinting, then retreated from the piercing sunlight streaming through his balcony doors. Hard hands shook him.

“Dalton, get up.” Cal stood over him on the right, Tristan on the left. “We’ve left you alone for two days, but now you’re freaking us out.”

His mouth felt like a dirty cotton swab. His head pounded. “Fuck you. How’d you get in my room?”

“The skeleton key over the door. Ah, shit, he went through two bottles of your whiskey, Cal.”

“I’m gonna kick his ass when he’s better, I swear.”

Dalton ignored them both, trying to remember what had happened. He’d gone to bed and drank a lot. Stumbled around the balcony. Had he cried looking at the stars? Why?

Raven.

The image of her face hit him, and the bed whirled. She was gone. He’d fucked it all up, like he did everything in his life, and he needed to stay in bed.

“Leave me alone.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Just go away.”

Cal sighed. “Gonna have to do this the hard way; he’s in bad shape.”

“Like the old days, right?”

“Yep, I’ll get his arms, you do the legs.”

“What the—are you nuts?” The covers were whipped off him and he was dragged to the side of the bed. “Get off me!”

“Shit, he’s naked. Why does he always have to sleep naked? I’m not touching his balls.”

“Shut up and get his feet.”

Dalton tried to twist away from them, but their grips were steel. He had a flashback to when he was younger and got drunk at one of his friends’ parties. His brothers had found him in bad shape, dragged him upstairs to hide him from Mom, and stuck him in a cold shower while he bellowed and threatened them.

Like now.

He heard the hiss of water hitting tile, and he cursed viciously, trying to slap Cal away. “I’ll kill you both! You have no right to come in my room, so get the—agh, fuck!”

The icy spray hit him straight in the chest, and he howled. They kept him in there, forcing him to wash the stink of alcohol and heartbreak from his skin. When he was finally clean, they shoved a towel at him and marched out of the bathroom to wait.

More clearheaded, he took off after them in self-righteous fury. “I’m not a kid any longer, assholes. If I choose to sleep off a hangover in my room, you have no right to come in here.”

“We do if it’s been two full days. You haven’t been to work. You don’t answer your phone. Morgan’s knocked plenty of times, and she got frantic. What if you had done something to yourself in here?” Cal shouted.

“I told you I was sick! I think I got the flu from Sydney.”

“Bullshit,” Tristan called out. “I’ve seen downward spirals before, but this one’s epic. You broke up with Raven, realized you love her, and don’t know how to handle it.”

The anger drained away, leaving him empty again. “Doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over.”

He walked out to the balcony. Looked up. The horizon shone a happy, bright blue, with fat, fluffy clouds floating past in a graceful dance of earth and sky. Bees hummed. The sun warmed his skin. And inside, his heart cried out for the woman who was his other half, even though he’d pushed her away in self-righteous pride and anger.

Tristan and Cal followed him out and flanked him. He pushed back his wet hair, and they all stared together at the view in silence.

“It does matter, Dalton. We tried to give you space, but now it’s time to deal. Do you want Raven back?”

Yes. Somehow, over the past two days of trying to forget, he’d realized his heart wasn’t as coldly clinical as his brain. He missed her. Needed her. The raw emotion in her inky eyes when she’d spotted him with Charlie told him the truth. She’d never wanted to hurt him. She wouldn’t be able to fake such need and grief and pain, all nakedly revealed when their gazes locked. And sometime last night, he’d come to the only conclusion left.

He needed to make things right between them, because he couldn’t let her go.

“Yes.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Cal asked. Dalton couldn’t speak, so he just gave a ragged nod. “Why don’t you try to talk to her?”

Dalton dropped his face into his hands. “Because I already did.” He dumped out the whole story, including meeting Charlie at the bar. “Too much has happened now. I was so angry and sick at the idea she had played me. I wanted to hurt her like she did me. How screwed up am I?”

Tristan sighed. “You just made mistakes, like Raven did. Problem is you’re so hotheaded, you do things without thinking them through sometimes.”