“You slept with him, didn’t you?” Lizzy says, grinning. “We need details.”

I cast a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure the guys can’t hear. “I didn’t sleep with him.”

Lizzy’s jaw drops. “Why not?”

“I screwed up with him once already,” I whisper, holding up one finger. I add the second. “And I’m leaving after Christmas.”

“You’re really not going to sleep with him?” Lizzy’s tone is more appropriate for talk of torturing kittens and killing puppies.

“I’m really not going to sleep with him,” I growl.

“Will or no Will,” Lizzy says, just as Will approaches our table, “I’m going to get you laid.”

Cally’s cheeks blaze and she shoots a lethal glare at her friend, then levels it at me, daring me to say something.

I bite back my smile. “A true friend, indeed.”

Lizzy’s gaze swings around to me and she bursts out laughing. “I had no idea he was there. I swear.”

“What’s going on over here?” Max strolls over to the table and runs his gaze over Lizzy. The guys want to hang with Cally and the twins tonight, and frankly, I’m game. I just want to be close to Cally.

We end up piling into a big booth together, me and Cally shoulder to shoulder on one side and Sam and Hanna on the other with Max and Lizzy pulling up chairs to the end, and before I know it the girls are all laughing and drinking and I’m sitting silently, nursing my beer and thinking how good it feels just to be close to her.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see I have a text from Meredith.

Wanna get together for a drink tonight?

I key in a quick reply. I’m hanging with the guys. Maybe another time?

I look up from my phone and catch Cally watching me. “Sexting with your girlfriend?”

Max tips my phone down so he can see the screen. He groans. “Meredith? Girl can’t take a hint, can she?”

Cally stiffens next to me, and Lizzy pipes up with, “Meredith?”

“She’s a friend.”

“Will’s grandma set them up,” Max says. “They went on a few dates and now she sends Will dirty texts day and night.”

Shit. “We’re just friends now.”

“Dirty texts? How dirty?” Lizzy asks.

“So dirty,” says Sam.

“Dirtier than the drunk texts Cally sent from Asher’s party?” Lizzy asks.

Cally’s eyes go wide. “Lizzy!”

“What drunk texts?” Sam asks. “Damn. Seriously, Will’s phone gets more action in a day than mine has seen all year.”

Lizzy winks at Sam and pulls out her phone. “What’s your number, cutie?”

Cally’s already gone stone cold next to me, and she’s studying the table top like it explains the meaning of life.

I grab her hand and drag her out of the booth.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

I pull her over to the jukebox and drape her arms around my neck. “You’re doing me a favor. I don’t want to talk about Meredith right now, and when it comes to her, the guys are like a dog with a bone.”

“Oh.”

This isn’t a slow song, but I don’t care. I want her head against my chest, her body close to mine. She looks amazing in nothing more complicated than a little black tank top and jean shorts that show off her long legs. The second I walked into Brady’s and saw her standing there, I started thinking about how much I want those legs wrapped around me, her nails digging into my back as I make her come.

“Do you exchange dirty texts with all of your friends?” she asks, her voice dropping low and lethal.

“We dated a little bit before you came back. It was supposed to be casual, but she ended up wanting more.”

“I’m sure most girls around here would love a chance for more with you.”

A Nine Inch Nails song kicks on, and I smile. “You remember this?”

Her eyes widen, her pupils dilating. We used to lie in my bedroom, listening to this album. We’d talk. Me about my controlling grandmother and her unreasonable expectations, Cally about her crazy father, her disappointing mother. We’d dream about going to college together and moving away, about a better life for her—she wouldn’t have to worry about getting her sisters fed and to sleep at the end of the day—about an easier life for me—I wouldn’t be expected to live up to every dream my grandmother ever had for the son she lost too soon. Then we’d explore each other, our bodies young and eager, our hands and mouths tentative as we learned together where and how to touch.

I lead her to the back corner of the bar and press my palms against the wall, pinning her in.

“What are you doing?” she asks in a whisper.

“This.” I drop my mouth to hers before she can protest, and my hands move from the wall into her hair.

She doesn’t hesitate and her mouth is greedy under mine as she kisses me back and wraps her hands around my biceps. I draw out the kiss, knowing damn well there are people watching, knowing damn well how fast news travels in this town. I want them to see. I’m ready to send the message that Cally is the only woman I’m interested in.

“I’ve spent the last month thinking about touching you at the restaurant,” I whisper against her ear. “As long as I can remember the sound of you coming, you don’t have to worry about any other woman laying claim to me.”

“Speak of the devil,” she mutters, looking over my shoulder.

“Who?”

“Meredith, and if looks could kill, you’d be holding a corpse.”

I barely register her meaning, too busy burying my nose in her hair, trying to memorize her scent. It’s something equal parts sweet and tempting.

Meredith is here. And if I’m not a dick, I’ll release Cally and go talk to her. And yet, maybe Cally was right about Meredith laying claim to me.

Pressing my hand against Cally’s back, I fan my fingers until two dip into the waistband of her jean shorts and under the silky smooth material of her panties. She draws in a breath and snuggles closer.

I’m tempted to brush my fingers over her and tease that sensitive skin of her lower back, tempted to whisper something wicked in her ear. But I don’t. I just move my h*ps to the music, savoring the moment until the song ends.

Her dark eyes hold arousal and sadness and so much I don’t understand. “I’m going to go back to the table,” she whispers.

I nod but I don’t follow her. I need to catch my breath, to get my head right.

I head to the bar and order a beer. Within seconds, Meredith has joined me. She leans against the bar and frowns. “I thought you were out with the guys.”

She’s smiling, as if she’s trying to make it a joke, but the hurt is in her eyes. Meredith is sweet and pretty and sexy, and if I had any sense at all I’d be chasing her instead of a girl who once shattered my heart.

But Meredith isn’t the one I want.

“Cally and her friends were already here.”

“You should have told me she was here with you. Now I feel like an idiot for showing up.”

“What did you think would happen if she wasn’t here?”

She drops her gaze to her hands. “We were good together. I just…I just want you to remember that.”

“This isn’t fair to you, Meredith. You should find someone who deserves you.”

She frowns, her carefully painted lips drawing into a pout. “You said you didn’t want anything serious, and I didn’t believe you because everyone knows that you want to get married. You want to make a family. It’s part of who you are. Only, you were telling me the truth. You didn’t want anything serious. At least, not with me. Those rules don’t apply to Cally.”

“Meredith—”

“No.” She holds up a hand, cutting off my explanation. “Don’t. We’re just friends. That was the deal.” She shakes her head and tucks her purse under her arm. “I’m not a bad catch, you know? Your grandma loves me, and things were going great between us. But suddenly you’re pushing me away because Cally’s back, and Cally… Cally’s not even staying. She’s heading back to Vegas in a few months. Add to that the fact that your grandma can’t stand her. Never could. Never mind that she dropped you without a thought back in high school.”

“That was a long time ago,” I growl.

She shrugs. “People don’t really change, Will. Not much. I hope you know what you’re doing. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Seven Years Ago

I’M HEADED to work when the dark SUV slows alongside me and the window rolls down. A man pokes his head out and smiles at me, a sick, calculating smile. I don’t recognize him, but I know without asking that Anthony sent him. His nose is crooked, as if it’s been broken a few too many times, and his dark hair is slicked back with too much gel. He looks so much like a stereotypical movie bad guy, I almost want to laugh. Only there’s nothing funny about the way he’s looking at me or the fear tearing through my stomach.

“Your little sisters sure are cute,” he says.

I freeze in my tracks, my feet glued to the sidewalk.

“That little one, she sure does like the swing at Tyson Park. And the older one, she’s got potential. A couple years and think of the things she could do.” The man grins. “Boss said you can either work off the loan or your sisters can do it for you.”

A chill whips through me, sharp and angry. “No.”

“Anthony doesn’t do second chances, sweetheart. It’s your lucky day. The client you ran out on took a special liking to you. He wants to see you again, requested you personally. You couldn’t have played it better, actually. That one likes a little bit of the chase, and now he won’t take any of the boss’s other girls. Only has eyes for the sweet dark-haired virgin.” His laugh is more like a cackle. “We’ll pick you up tonight. No f**king around this time.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before his window slides back into position and the car pulls away.

I don’t bother going to work. What’s the point? I head home and stare at my phone, trying to figure out what will happen if I call the police. They’ll help me. I won’t have to go to that man again tonight. I won’t have to do the unspeakable things I’m sure to have to do. But what will happen to my sisters? And how long can the police protect me from Anthony and his men?

So I shower and change and wait for Anthony’s car to pick me up.

When my phone rings, William’s name looks at me from the screen of the phone he bought and paid for to keep us together. I send the call to voicemail and steal two pills from Mom’s secret stash.

Present Day

“You little lying, hooky-playing twerp!” I growl as I tap out the text to Drew: Where are you?

I burst into William’s house looking for her. After I walked Gabby to school, Drew’s truancy officer called to let me know that Drew wasn’t in her first class. Was she sick today?

I caught her playing hooky once before, and if she’s doing it again, I’m going to ground her for a month. If she thinks she’s going to get away with skipping school just because I’m working all the time, she’s got another thing coming.

I storm up the stairs, my anger growing as I burst into the room she and Gabby share. The room is unoccupied. Empty.

“Drew! Where are you?” I head back downstairs, not bothering to quiet my tear through the house. William was already gone when I left with the girls this morning—heading to the gym to squeeze in a workout before opening the gallery. I avoided him after getting home from Brady’s last night. I shouldn’t have let myself dance with him. It felt too good to have his body close, his breath on my ear. By the time he kissed me, I was already too far gone to make a sensible decision.

After hitting the family room and the kitchen, I still haven’t found Drew. I’m starting to worry when my phone buzzes with a text from her.

I’m at school.

“No,” I grumble. “You’re a liar.”

Then the shower kicks on down the hall, and I’m darting toward the Master before I think about it. His shower is one of those with showerheads on three walls and Drew has been chomping at the bit to try it out.

The door to his bedroom is open and I’m more incensed with every step. William has done so much for us, and this is how she thanks him? Skipping school and using his freaking shower?

I open the door to his bathroom and blink when Will’s running clothes greet me in a neat pile by the door. I freeze, staring at the rumpled pile of cotton, remembering the look of his sweat-slicked skin when he comes off a run.

Move, Cally.

But I can’t.

Then I hear a long and low groan come from the direction of the shower and what I see when I lift my head has my heart racing and my breath going shallow.

Drew isn’t anywhere to be seen. Only William.

Behind the steamy shower door, he stands under the spray, one hand braced against the tile and the other…oh, hell…the other wrapped around his shaft as he moves over it in long, even strokes.

His body is gorgeous—broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips. Hard, sculpted muscles that I want to touch with my hands, taste with my tongue, and test with my teeth.

From the angle he’s standing, with only five steps and the steamy glass between us, I see more than I should and so much less than I want. I need to take these feet—the ones that are glued to the bathroom tile—and put them in reverse. I need to back myself right out of this bathroom and figure out where Drew really is. Or hell, maybe I need a shower of my own. A really cold one.