Instead, he kisses me just below my earlobe and says, “Sleep well, Rowdy,” and settles his head into the pillow as if he intends to sleep with me in his arms.

* * *

Sam

I know better than to stay, but I can’t make myself go. I tell myself it’s because Connor is sleeping in her living room, and I don’t trust him not to try something with her, but that’s a bunch of bullshit. The truth is, I love the way she feels in my arms and the way her hair smells, and I don’t want to leave.

I never intended to take her so roughly tonight. I can’t believe I fucked her against the wall. But my attraction to Liz has always been something that skates on that line between want and need. I don’t mind want. Want is a thing you can control. Want you can deny. But I hope to never need a woman the way I felt like I needed her tonight. Need makes me weak. Desperate. Completely under her power.

It’s not that I expected her to still be a virgin. Hell no. She’s a damn fine grown woman with a healthy sexual appetite and confidence to boot. I didn’t think she waited all this time for me, but the idea that Connor was her first . . .

My arms tighten around her instinctively. I don’t like this jealousy I feel, but I can’t deny it either. I fucking hate that she gave him her virginity. I guess part of me was waiting for her to come back to my room after she turned eighteen. I was cocky enough to believe it was me she wanted, not just anyone.

Fuck Connor.

I swear he’s wanted what’s mine since the day I met him. He was fascinated by my family—the size of it, the way we all seemed to sincerely love each other. Part of me was happy to give him a place there. I brought him home on holidays when his parents couldn’t be bothered to scrape together the money to fly him back to California; I got him the internship working for my father as he laid the groundwork for his political campaign; and I introduced him to Della, his now girlfriend, despite my mother’s objections over them living together before they’re married.

Part of me has always known Connor’s a better fit in my own life than I am. My father loves him, my mother thinks he’s a prince, and he loves my big family when it’s always made me feel claustrophobic. It’s like he’s taken the parts of my life that I denied—the job with my father . . . Liz.

I bury my nose in her hair, and she sighs in her sleep, a soft, sweet sound. “He can’t have you,” I say. “You’re mine.” I try to mentally add for tonight, but it feels like a lie. I want more than tonight. I don’t want to miss another night falling asleep to the smell of her hair just because I’m scared I might be more like my father than Connor will ever be.

Because even if I think Liz belongs with me, not him, I know he’s the better guy.

I know why he was at the strip club tonight, and he’ll let Della believe the worst just to protect her from the truth—to protect me. Connor’s a better hero than I’ll ever be, but he can’t have Liz.

“Mine.” Then I close my eyes.

* * *

I wake up to the sound of someone knocking softly on the bedroom door, and for a minute I’m disoriented and expect to find myself in my own bed.

“Liz?” Connor calls from the other side.

Liz shifts in my arms, and I climb out of bed. “She’s sleeping,” I say through a crack in the door.

Connor’s eyes widen and he blinks at me. “Oh. I didn’t know . . .”

I arch a brow. “Let her sleep, okay? I’ll be out in a minute.” I shut the door on his startled face, then pull on my clothes. And, yeah, I just broke one of her rules. Maybe even intentionally. I know Connor’s with Della now, but I also know how he’s always looked at Liz.

When I return to the hallway, Connor is waiting with a mug of coffee in each hand. He shoves one at me.

“So, you and Liz?”

My jaw tightens without my permission. When it comes to Liz, I have no poker face. “None of your business.”

He nods and sips his coffee, then he meets my eyes and his body stiffens. “Don’t hurt her again.”

“Again?”

“She had it bad for you . . . back in the day.”

“And you stepped right in to take advantage of that, didn’t you?”

Connor pulls back as if I’ve struck him.

Fuck. I shouldn’t have said anything. For one, it’s not my business. For another, I don’t want Connor knowing how I feel about his history with Liz.

“She told you about that?” he asks.

“She was seventeen,” I say, sidestepping his question.

Connor looks away. He knows it was a dick move. “Don’t tell Della,” he says. “She doesn’t know, and it would change things between her and Liz.”

“I won’t tell.” My shoulders sag, some of the fight draining out of me. It’s a relief just to know that he cares how Della would feel. “You were at the club last night snooping into my business, weren’t you?

Connor drags a hand through his hair and nods. “Your dad saw the money gone from your account. He asked me to look into it, and someone said they’d seen you spending time with one of the girls there.”

Fuck. I drop my gaze to the floor, doing my best to calm the surge of anger I feel at the thought of Asia. Oddly, my anger isn’t as hot or volatile as it was yesterday. A night with Liz was like a balm to my soul. “Tell my father there’s nothing going on that’s a danger to his precious campaign, so he can relax.”