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“Sure . . . yeah. Not even counting the fact that guy is probably only found in fiction; that would involve me sleeping with numerous guys until I find one who will give me that experience. Not only do I not want to be labeled a slut like some best friends I know . . .” I cleared my throat and gave her a pointed look. “But that also sounds like the biggest headache.”

“I won’t take offense to that because I love you, but we’ve got to get you away from Bryce.” She took a long drink from her cup and slapped her hand down on the table a few times. “Oh! Oh, what about your neighbor! That cop guy—­”

“Detective.”

“Same difference. He’s all quiet, and intense, and . . . mmm. I bet he’d be good.”

I bet he would be too. I’d had the biggest crush on him since I was twelve and he’d starred in practically every fantasy I’d ever had. “Yeah, that’s not about to happen.”

“Why not? Is he married?”

“Uh, no, he’s not. But he’s Dylan and Dakota’s best friend. They all grew up together.”

Amber’s eyes glazed over, and a grin I knew too well crossed her face. “God your brothers are—­wait! How did I not know he was their friend? Where have I been?”

“Not allowed near my brothers . . . ?”

“Yeah, but he’s your neighbor! I didn’t know you actually knew him. And you can’t hide them from me forever. They’re the only two of your brothers left who are available, and they’re identical twins. It’s every girl’s fantasy.”

“And this is where I throw up. Or pour bleach on my brain. Anything to forget you talking about fantasies and Dumb and Dumber in the same hour, let alone sentence.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You have to admit your brothers are good-­looking.”

I made a gagging noise the same moment my phone went off. Reaching for it on the table, I saw Bryce’s name and showed Amber. “Speak of the devil.”

“Let me guess, he’s lonely?” I made some sort of affirmative noise and she grabbed her purse as she stood to leave. “Tell him your vagina is no longer available. We’re officially starting our manhunt for Mister Awesome, and he can’t be in the running.”

“God, Amber, you’re ridiculous. We’re not starting anything and I’m not going to end . . . whatever it is I have going on with Bryce right now.” My lips pursed when I read his message.

Bryce A: Hey babe can I come over? Long day at work need to unwind

“He’s in the way of you finding anyone else,” she argued.

“I don’t want to find anyone else.”

Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at my cell. “I’m finding you someone else. Anyone would be better than him. I’m going to come over tomorrow with the first guy that shows up in the ER tonight just to prove my point.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Have fun at your shift.”

“We still on for getting our apartments all Christmas-­ed out this weekend?”

“How is that even a question? Of course.”

“Just making sure! I’m going to have to warn Aaron my body won’t be available for an entire day.”

“That poor guy,” I said in a monotone voice. “How will he ever live?”

She laughed and blew me a kiss. “Later, sweetie!”

Looking back at my phone, I tapped out a response as I stood and headed to my car.

Sure. I’m on my way back, come over in 30?

Despite the complaints I’d just shared about him, I really liked Bryce. We’d been close like this for a while now, and good friends for years before. He could be sweet when he wanted to, and was protective almost to a fault when it came to me. I needed to stay “single” to protect guys from my four older brothers, but it still felt good to have a constant in my life, and to be wanted by someone.

Connor

“WAIT, YOU’RE LEAVING?”

My arms froze with the shirt partially over my head, and when they started moving again, my movements were careful as I finished pulling the shirt over my chest. With a deep breath in, I turned to look at the pissed-­off girl. “That’s how this works, sweetheart.”

She pulled the sheet up on her chest as she used her other arm to sit up. “Then tell me what your definition of this is, because apparently it’s different from mine.”

Letting my hand slide to the back of my neck, I left it there as I shrugged. “I picked you up at a bar. I’d met you not even an hour before we left; I don’t know what else you could expect from that.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she scoffed. Her face scrunched together in anger, but even in the dark room I could see the wetness gathering in her eyes. “What else would I expect from some prick who picks up women in a fucking bar?”

I focused on her eyes a moment longer, willing myself to feel something for making her cry. Regardless of not remembering her name, it should bother me to see a woman cry—­especially if I’d been the reason behind those tears.

But there was nothing.

There’d been nothing since I’d returned from my trip to Texas six months ago. Just countless, nameless women who never filled a void that shouldn’t have even been there. Turning around, I slapped my hand over my phone and wallet resting on the chair, and walked toward the hall.

“For the record, douche, it’s called a one-­night stand. One. Night! Not one hour,” her voice broke as she continued to scream insults as I left her apartment.

As soon as I was in my car, I pulled up the texts on my phone and tapped out the same message I did every night.

I need to know you’re okay Cassidy. Please call.

My thumb hovered over the SEND button for a few seconds before going up and hitting CANCEL instead. I dropped the phone into one of the cup holders and scrubbed my hands down my face before cranking the engine and starting home.

She’d briefly come back into my life more than six months ago, and was only there for a little more than a week. But that week had fucking wrecked me.

My partner and I had gotten the call six months ago about a house fire that looked suspicious—­and later ended up revealing the bodies of Cassidy’s mom and stepdad—­early that morning. And when Cassidy had shown up hours later, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I don’t know if it’d been the obvious black eye she had, or if somehow, even during all the craziness of interviewing neighbors, I’d known that I recognized her—­but she was all I could see that day. Days later, when I remembered her from a family-­disturbance call I’d gone on years before, the completely innocent girl started haunting my every thought.

She was on my mind constantly. Knowing I’d made the wrong decision in not following up on that call killed me more than I’d ever be able to explain. With my past, and what my father had done to my sister and me, I hated knowing I’d let her live through years of abuse. And then she walked into the coffee shop that morning, and everything changed.

I hadn’t been big on relationships before officially meeting Cassidy—­for shit’s sake, I was only twenty-­five years old and had been career focused most my life. I’d had girls, and claimed a few as mine for a while, but something about actually settling down had always scared the living hell out of me. Not with Cassidy, though. With her, I would have done anything to make her stay in California with me instead of going back to her boyfriend in Texas.

It wasn’t just that she had a past like mine . . . that she knew what it was like to grow up being physically abused by a parent. It wasn’t just that she would understand my fears of turning into my father. And it wasn’t just the fact that she was the strongest person I’d ever met, emotionally—­and in a way, physically. It was all of that, added to something that was just Cassidy. Something that the small and deceivingly fragile-­looking girl exuded from deep down that drew me to her. That within minutes had me ready to make her the center of my world.