"Uh, hell no, you aren't. You're going home to deal with whatever mess you're trying to run from."

  Clearly, that's not the right thing to say because she glowers at me like she wants to shank me with her keys.

  "Of course you'd think my life is a mess."

  "What does that mean?" I growl.

  "It means your life is so neat and tidy." She rolls her eyes so hard I swear I hear them. "You never even had to leave home to have it all figured out."

  "Careful, princess," I snap, one brow arched. "You didn't exactly grow up hurting, either." Her father owns the biggest construction company in the state. He's worth billions, and he's always given her and her siblings anything they want. She was a spoiled, pampered little princess who never had to work hard a day in her life.

  My family may have money too, but I grew up with the sun in my eyes and dirt under my nails, sweating from the time the sun came up until it went down. During planting and harvesting seasons, no one gets a free ride on a vineyard.

  "Maybe not, but that doesn't mean we're the same, Trystan. I actually had to leave the nest to build a life. Yours came predesigned for you." She sails past me, so close I smell her fruity scent as she passes. "And you're the only one of us afraid to rock the boat or live outside those neat little lines that came all colored in for you."

  I snarl a curse, clinging to the door with both hands. Maybe it'll keep me from putting them all over her pristine body. I hate that she knows me so fucking well and doesn't know me at all at the same time. Those neat little lines she hates so much? They're the only reason I haven't ruined her or our families.

  "Also, I'm not leaving," she calls over her shoulder. "Take it up with Wyatt if you have a problem with it. He told me that I could stay here."

  Fuck my life. She's lying, and I know she is. Wyatt is unreachable. But she doesn't give me a chance to call her on her bullshit before she disappears down the hall.

  I stare after her, a string of curses flying from my lips.

  Thanos looks at me, huffs, and then pads after Chloe. Not that I blame him. Frankly, I'd follow her to the ends of the goddamn earth if she'd let me. But let's be real. I have a better chance of living just long enough for her to murder me in my sleep than I do of making her mine.

  I want to do it anyway.

  Christ, do I ever.

  Chapter Two

  Chloe

  "You called Trystan," I growl at Jade, pacing a hole in the plush rug in the guest room Wyatt set up for me and my sisters when he bought this place a few years ago. My heart pounds like a drum against my breastbone, thundering with every step I take.

  Thanos dodges me, crawling onto the bed to turn two complete circles before he flops in the middle to nap, completely undisturbed by my mental breakdown.

  I'm mad as hell at Trystan, at Jade, at myself…hell, maybe at the whole world at this point.

  Leaving a job I loved because my middle-aged, married boss is a creep was bad enough. He actually woke me up the night before last to tell me that he was dreaming about me. And then he proceeded to describe his frequent fantasies about me in gross detail before asking if I'd be interested in making them come true. I sent the messages to his wife and then packed up my desk first thing yesterday morning.

  He called my parents, claiming he was worried about me because I quit for no reason. Yeah, right. As if learning that he gets off in his office while watching me through the window is no reason.

  I didn't have the heart to tell my dad what really happened, mostly because I don't want my dad to go to prison for murder. So I just…left town.

  I figured staying at Wyatt's for a few days would give me time to figure out how to deal with this. I did not anticipate finding Trystan here, however.

  The man is a waking nightmare and my biggest dream all rolled into one. Once upon a time, we were friends. I'm not sure when that changed, but somewhere along the way, he stopped treating me like someone he cared about and more like someone who couldn't make her own decisions.

  He's standoffish, domineering, and just rude.

  And even though it drives me insane, he's still stuck in my head like a song. He's always been stuck in there. I've loved him for as long as I can remember. And part of me hates it because I know there isn't a chance in hell that we end up together.

  I have been and will always be a problem to him, something messy and out of place in his neat little life. I used to think that was because he felt the same way and just didn't know what to do about it. We're practically family. I thought maybe he was trying to figure out how to balance the way he felt with his sense of responsibility.

  Now? Well, now I'm not sure it even matters.

  No matter how long I wait or how hard I hope, he'll never color outside the lines, not when it comes to me. The sad fact is, he just doesn't like me. If anything, he tolerates me for the sake of our families. I'm the only one stuck with an undying crush.

  "Uh, no, I did not call Trystan," Jade says. "I called Haven. Where are you? Mom and Dad are freaking out."

  "I'm fine," I groan, flopping down on the plush bed beside Thanos to glare up at the ceiling. "I'm staying at Wyatt's for a few days." At least, that was the plan. Now, I'm not so sure. I probably should have left as soon as Trystan opened the door, but he pissed me off, so I decided to make a point.

  He makes me irrational like that.

  I really need to research justified homicide. Surely, smothering him with a pillow isn't actually a crime at this point, right?

  "You left without saying anything."

  "I needed space. Is that so wrong?"

  "No," she says carefully. "But you quit your job."

  "Yeah, because my boss is an asshole," I mutter.

  "What did Donny do?"

  I hesitate, not sure I want to tell her. I trust my sisters with my life, but I also know them. And there's no way any of them will keep a secret like this from my dad. We always go to him for help.

  "Talk to me, Chloe," Jade murmurs.

  "He texted me in the middle of the night to tell me about his inappropriate dreams about me. In detail," I grumble.

  "What the fuck?"

  "Yeah." My lips pull down into a frown. "And then he asked if I'd be interested in making it a reality. Apparently, he's been taking care of himself in his office while watching me for a while. He wants my help next time." I blow out a breath. "He even had suggestions on what I should wear."

  "What the fuck?" she says again, her voice vibrating with rage.

  "I sent the messages to his wife and quit."

  "Good. I hope she rips his balls off," Jade snaps. "What a jerk!"

  "That's not the word I'd use for him."

  "I can pick a few others, if you prefer. Asshat, maybe? Disgusting pig? Creep? Complete asshole? Sexually harassing dirtbag? Incel?"

  I smile despite myself. "Maybe all of the above."

  "Hard agree," she says. "That's so fucked up. What did Dad say?"

  "I didn't tell him."

  "Chloe." I hear the chastisement in her voice.

  "Donny isn't worth a prison sentence, Jade. And you know exactly how Dad will react," I remind her. Our father is wildly overprotective when it comes to us and our mom. No one crosses him unless they want to suffer the consequences.

  In high school, one of the football players slapped Mia's ass in the hallway. Dad raised so much hell that the guy ended up getting booted from the team and suspended. He transferred to a different school just to avoid ever crossing paths with our dad again.

  Jade hesitates and then sighs. "Yeah, you're right. So Mom and Dad don't know?"

  "Donny called Dad and said that I quit for no reason."

  "Jesus. What an asshole!" She huffs an offended breath. "Are we burning down his house or what?"

  "Nah, I think we'll leave it for Madeline in the divorce. She deserves it for putting up with his shit. But I'm not going back to work there. I'd rather starve first." Not that I will or anything. My parents won't let that happen.

  "Uh, definitely not," Jade agrees. "I will strangle you if you even think about going back to work for him."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "Just saying."

  "You can't tell Dad."

  "Obviously. I mean, he could probably get away with murdering Donny, but it's best not to risk it. I doubt he'd let us come visit him in prison. What are you going to do?"

  "I don't know. I was going to stay here for a few days…" I glance toward the door. "But Trystan is here."

  "Oh."

  I roll my eyes at her tone. It's that smug, knowing tone I hate, the one that conveys so much while saying so little. "He's already trying to tell me what to do. I swear, he gets off on trying to boss people around. It's a kink for him. It has to be."

  Jade laughs softly. "You know that's not it, Clo."

  "It's something. He's unbearable."

  "You're the only one he ever tries to boss around."

  "Whatever. Am not." Except…she's not entirely wrong. He's never been an overbearing asshole to her, Mia, or Catherine. He's not even an overbearing asshole to his sister, Avery, or any of his cousins. Everyone else gets the laid-back, fun Trystan. I get the despotic, pain in the ass version.

  Rude.

  "Maybe he likes you."

  "Oh, so I see we're living in the land of delusion today," I say. "I guess that means you still don't want to talk about how Jax is in love with you?"

  "What? He is not!" she practically shrieks, loud enough for Thanos to lift his head, one eye cracked. He huffs and then closes it again, settling in for another nap. I swear, he's the calmest Malinois I've ever met in my life. The poor guy just wants to enjoy his retirement in peace, but the whole world stresses him out.

  "Uh-huh. Like I said, land of delusion," I tease Jade, reaching out to stroke Thanos's ear. He leans into me, stretching like a cat in sunlight.

  "Whatever," my sister grumbles. "We're talking about your delusions, not mine. You need to call Dad."

  "I will," I sigh.

  "Promise?"

  "Yes, Mother." I roll my eyes. For her to be only a year older than me, she sure is bossy. "I'll call him soon." Just as soon as I figure out what lie I'm going to tell him to placate him. Anything is better than the truth at this point.

  "Love you."

  "I love you too," I say before disconnecting. I don't immediately call my dad, though. Instead, I stare at the phone for long moments before dropping it onto the bed and then climbing to my feet. Maybe I'll call after I shower. It was a long drive from San Francisco.

  Thanos doesn't even move, so I leave him on the bed and stride out into the hallway, looking both ways for Trystan. The house is silent, and he doesn't immediately appear to annoy the hell out of me, so I quickly rush across the hall to the bathroom.

  My hand is on the handle when I hear a soft groan from inside. It doesn't sound like pain, more like…pleasure.

  What the hell?

  I don't know why I do it—pure curiosity, perhaps—but I press my ear to the door, holding my breath.

  For a long moment, all I hear is faint shuffling from the opposite side, and then Trystan's voice bleeds through.

  "Chloe, fuck," he groans.

  Oh.

  Oh. My. God.

  Is he…?

  "Yeah, princess, suck me just like that," he growls, his voice deep and throaty in a way I've never heard before.

  My nipples immediately turn to hard points, my womb clenching. I bite my lip, fighting the moan crawling up my throat.

  Trystan is getting himself off. And he's thinking about me.

  I should be pissed, right? My jerk of an ex-boss just told me that he does the same thing, and it was horrifying. But this feels nothing like that. This feels a little like heaven. Naughty, perfect heaven.

  I know I shouldn't keep listening, but since when have I ever done what I should? Since never, that's when.

  I lean closer to the door, my cheek against the cool wood, listening to Trystan get himself off. It's wrong, so damn wrong. And yet…my entire body is an electric fire, burning up my synapses.

  How many times have I done the same thing over the years? Touched myself while thinking about him? Woken up with his name ringing out around me? Too many to count. It's always him. Even before I understood what it meant, it was him. Even after I realized it'd never happen, it was still him. Even now, when we barely even tolerate one another, it's still him.

  There's never been anyone else for me. How could there be when they never compared? When I never stopped thinking about him long enough? No one smiled like him or laughed like him. No one pushed my buttons like him or made my stomach clench like him. No one gave me butterflies or high blood pressure like him.

  I gave up trying to wish away my feelings a long damn time ago and accepted that I'll probably die a spinster virgin, living off fantasies and battery-operated bliss.

  A thump sounds from the other side of the door.

  I jump, my heart slamming against my ribcage so hard it startles me as I try to imagine what's happening on the other side… his dark blond hair all messed up, every muscle in his big body tense, and his head thumping against the wall as his long, rough fingers wrap around his cock. He probably squeezes tight, his Adam's apple working as he pants for breath.

  God, I'd kill to see that in reality.

  "Chloe," he growls suddenly. "Ah, Jesus, Chloe."

  For a second, I think he's caught me. And then I realize that is not what's happening. That sound is pure ecstasy.

  Holy shit.

  He's coming with my name on his lips.

  My hand tightens on the handle, the urge to storm into the bathroom ripping through me. Except, I don't even know what I'd say.

  Take me, I'm yours?

  You're an asshole?

  I'm in love with you?

  I can't say any of that.

  I can't tell him that I was eavesdropping, either. He'll be furious.

  "Jesus," he mutters from the other side of the door. "Get it together, man. She doesn't want you."

  Except…she does. She always has.

  I am so confused.

  I stumble away from the door as silently as possible, not sure what the hell just happened, what it means, or what I'm even going to do about it. But I do know one thing for sure: Trystan Goodson is far more complicated than I thought.

  I'm not sure what to expect from him after what I heard in the bathroom. Honestly, I think maybe I'm an idiot for expecting anything, because when I finally materialize from the guest room, there is no new and improved Trystan waiting for me. He's the same cranky, domineering jerk who drives me nuts.

  "You're still here," he says, gorgeous gray eyes narrowed as he stares at me over the kitchen island.

  "And you didn't drown in the shower." I pluck a banana from the bowl in the center of the island, holding his gaze. "You were in there long enough. I was sure you'd died naked. Pity."

  I slowly peel the banana, watching every shift of emotion across his face. He tenses slightly, a tiny flicker of guilt flaring in his eyes before he manages to school his expression, shutting it away behind that infuriating mask he always wears around me. The one that's all irritating self-possession and dominance.

  "Sorry to disappoint, princess," he says, voice rough. "But if being here with me bothers you so much, you're welcome to go back to San Francisco."

  "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" I scowl at him.

  He shrugs, which frustrates me.

  "Of course you would. Your life is complete when I'm someone else's problem." I take a big bite of the banana, but it tastes like sawdust in my mouth. He is so damn confusing. An hour ago, he was getting himself off with my name on his lips. Now, he's as irritatingly standoffish as ever.

  "You don't know anything about my life, Chloe," he says, leaning against the cabinet across from me. "You stopped wanting to know anything about it a long goddamn time ago."

  "Uh, no. That was you," I remind him. "You're the one who decided you didn't want to be friends with me anymore. You preferred telling me what to do, instead. And when I didn't just bow to your demands, you decided I wasn't worth the effort." I stomp to the trash before tossing the banana in. "Don't rewrite history now, Tryst."

  "What the fuck are you talking about?"

  "Oh my god." I whirl to face him. "You don't even remember, do you?"

  "Remember what?" His eyes scan across my face.

  "The day we stopped being friends."

  His brows furrow in confusion, and a little part of me wants to cry. Or scream. Or maybe I want to strangle him. He doesn't remember the day he broke my heart.

  "You know what?" I shake my head, reaching around him to grab the leash for Thanos. "It doesn't even matter now. We can coexist without speaking to each other for a few days."

  He grabs my arm before I can pull away. "Tell me."

  "Let me go."

  "Not until you tell me what day you're talking about."

  "Prom, you idiot." I roll my eyes at him before yanking my arm from his. "I was so excited to show you the dress I picked out. You know what you said to me?"

  "Fuck," he growls, jaw clenching, and I know he remembers.

  "You told me that prom was stupid, and no one cared about it. That I'd be better off if I skipped it. And when I said no, you didn't talk to me for two weeks." I tilt my head back, meeting his gaze.

  "What the fuck?" He gapes at me. "That isn't what happened, Chloe."

  "Yes, it is!" I growl, stomping away from him. "You didn't get your way, and you couldn't stand it, so you just decided not to bother with me anymore."

  He's silent for a long moment, processing. And then he mutters a curse. "That isn't what happened."

  "Yeah, it is," I say sadly.

  "It isn't. You were the one who stopped talking to me. I tried over and over again, but you were pissed and wouldn't give an inch. Everything I said to you was the wrong thing. It still is."

  "Sounds like a you problem," I sniff, bending to clip the leash to Thanos's collar. He's just glancing between us like he's watching a ping-pong match and isn't sure which side he should be cheering for. But he's a smart dog. He chooses me, obviously.

 

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