Need You Tonight

EPILOGUE





Three months later

Kade leaned back in his chair, sipping a glass of champagne and smiling over the rim as he enjoyed the view.

“I’d hate to be that guy,” Colby observed, reaching for one of the crab and avocado toasts off the platter at the center of the table.

Gibson made a grunt of agreement. “You ain’t lying. Soon he’ll be saying, Yes, Mistress. May I kiss your shoes?”

Kade chuckled. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but Tessa was giving the manager of the venue quite a firm talking to—probably something to do with the fact that there were not enough chairs for everyone and the tables had been set up too far away from the stage. He wasn’t worried, though. There was still an hour before the band came on and everyone was happy to be milling around and mingling. He had no doubt Tessa would have the issue fixed before anyone even noticed.

“I can’t believe there are this many people here,” Colby said. “This looks like a way bigger crowd than last year.”


Kade nodded. “My woman’s relentless. She’s probably going to pull in enough cash on her own to send all those kids at Bluebonnet to college on full scholarship. I haven’t even told her yet that all the money we raised at the slave auction was real and that there’s a big check to add to the pile.”

“Yeah,” Colby said. “She covered every angle. I saw that she even has the kids selling artwork they created to contribute to their individual college funds. One of the paintings just sold for a grand. Twelve-year-old kid was the artist. I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head.”

“Hell, at that age, I would’ve lost it, too,” Gib said, taking a pull of his beer. “I remember saving up three hundred bucks in middle school after a summer of cutting grass. I thought I was rich.”

Kade snorted. “Then you spent it all on comic books and Playboys.”

“That was money well spent, my friend. I was all set for a long winter.”

Colby laughed and looked to Gibson. “So where did your date go off to? She’d probably appreciate hearing your embarrassing childhood stories.”

Kade set his glass down. “Rosalie dragged Sam off to the kid’s area. One of the restaurants is giving a little cooking demo for the kiddos.”

Gibson shrugged. “Sam’s not my date. I’m just helping her out with her training, and she thought it’d be fun to come together tonight.”

“I always prefer coming together,” Kade said with a smirk. “Fun for all.”

Gibson gave him a droll look. “Seriously, you’re still fourteen under that shirt and tie.”

Kade raised his glass in cheers.

“Seems very self-sacrificing of you,” Colby said with mock seriousness. “Going above and beyond and taking your trainee out for the night.”

“Drop it,” Gib warned.

“What? We’re not ribbing you. I, for one, am happy to see you embracing your inner switch and subbing.”

“I’m not subbing. I’m bottoming to train her as a domme. I’m still in control.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, dude,” Colby said with a shrug. “She’s taking a few classes at one of the clubs I help out at sometimes. I’ve seen her in her bitch boots. She wears them well. I’m sure many men wouldn’t mind getting a beating and a pegging from her.”

“Keep away from her, farm boy,” Gib said, pointing his beer at Colby.

Colby grinned as he took another swig off his beer, obviously enjoying this way too much. “Lucky for you, she’s not my type.”

“What are y’all smiling about?”

Kade turned to see Tess standing there, clipboard in hand and eyebrow arched—all business and looking hotter than ever in her little blue dress. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap, unable to resist. “Just torturing your former boss.”

“I was about to use my safeword,” Gibson said, leaning back in his chair and hooking his ankle over his knee. “Thanks for saving me. Hey, wait a second, what do you mean former?”

Tessa made an uh-oh face as she leaned into Kade. “Sorry, Gib. I was going to talk to you on Monday, but my husband has a big mouth.”

“Tessa’s going to take over as co-director of Bluebonnet Place,” Kade said, pride swelling in him.

Gibson’s disappointment quickly morphed into a broad smile. “That’s fantastic. I’ll be sad to lose you, but no one will run your charity better than you. Those kids will be lucky to have you at the helm.”

Tessa let out a breath, her worry lifting. “Thanks, Gib. I still have a lot to learn from Iris, the current director, but I’m looking forward to it.”

“You’re going to do great,” Kade said, giving her a quick kiss. “Did you get everything worked out with the manager over there? I saw you two talking.”

“Yes, I think he’s probably wishing he had a safeword, but we’re good now. And Darkfall is all set to go.” She nodded at the tray of appetizers. “How’s the food?”

He frowned. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Didn’t have time.”

He met her eyes, broadcasting exactly what he thought of that excuse. “Sit down in this chair and eat.”

She waved a hand. “I will. I just need to go make rounds and thank everyone who came.”

He lifted her up and deposited her in the chair next to him. “Everyone will still be here for at least two more hours. I won’t have you passing out in the middle of this thing. Eat. Have a drink. I’ll go shake hands and make nice.”

“Kade—”

He cupped her chin and planted a kiss on her mouth. “Nonnegotiable, baby. Sorry.”

“You’re a bossy bastard, Mr. Vandergriff,” she said, but her eyes went soft in that way that made him wish he had a private room to take her to and an hour of her time.

“Always. Good thing you love that about me.” He kissed her forehead and then patted Colby on the shoulder as he walked by him. “You guys make sure my girl eats. I’m going to find my other date.”





Kade watched Rosalie from the back of the tent as she dumped a cup of flour into a bowl with such force that all of it blew back up on her, dusting her sequined purple dress in white. He chuckled when she tried to make it better and ended up adding white handprints to the mix. The instructor attempted to dust her off, but it was no use. The little girl next to her was looking at the mess with a wrinkled nose, but Rosalie just shrugged and grabbed a bowl of spices to dump in and continue mixing.

“Looks like the dress is a loss,” Sam said, sidling up next to him.

Kade smiled. “She doesn’t care. Onward. That was always her motto. Nothing gets in her way when she’s on a mission.”

“I wonder where she gets that from, Stalker Boy.” Sam nudged his shoulder with hers.

“Hey, knock my method, but it worked.” He held up his left hand and waggled his ring finger.

“Yes, it did. Which is why I’m attempting the same method with your brother, just so you know.”

“Good. He could use someone like you around. Whip him into shape.”

She smirked. “And with me that’s not a figure of speech.”

“Daddy!”

The shout from across the room drew their attention toward the front. Rosalie held up a cookie. “Look, we have a swap out, just like on the cooking shows.”

“Excellent,” he called back.

He and Sam watched Rosalie finish up with the group then his little girl came running over to him, wrapping her floured hands around him when she reached him. “Is it time for the music yet?”

“The band’s not for kiddos, Spark. Plus, it’s getting late. Your mom is probably waiting for you.”

Her bottom lip flipped out in a full-force pout. “But daadddy, you said I was going to be able to go to your house.”

He crouched down in front of her and ruffled her hair. “Next week, Spark. Your room is all ready for you, and you’ll get to stay there every other weekend and spend a whole month with me and Ms. Tess in the summer.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart and pie in my eye,” he said solemnly, crossing his finger over his chest in an X.

That sent her into a grin and chased off the pout. “No, daddy, that’s not how it goes.”

“Cross my eyes and hope to cry?”

“No!” She fell into a fit of giggles and he lifted her into his arms.

“Come on, Spark. I promise this is the last time we’ll have to end our visit early.”

She hooked her little arms around his neck and gave him a tight squeeze. “Thanks, Daddy. I don’t want to have to miss you all the time.”

The words were bittersweet, but a lightness filled his chest as he carried her toward the parking lot. No more sad good-byes. “That makes two of us, baby girl.”

Tessa caught sight of them as they walked through the party and she came over to give Rosalie a hug. Rosalie slid out of Kade’s arms and gave Tess an enthusiastic squeeze. “’Night, Ms. Tess.”

“Good night, chickadee. Thanks for coming to my party.”

“Welcome.” Rosalie stepped back from the hug and gave Tess a serious look. “My mommy and Chris are going to have a baby.”

“I heard that,” Tessa said with a smile. “That’s so exciting. You’re going to be a big sister.”

“Yeah, I guess. But mommy said it might be a boy.” Rosalie made the gag me with a spoon face. “Are you and my daddy going to have a baby, too?”

Tessa’s eyes went big and she gave Kade the oh-dear-God-please-help look. “Uh . . .”

Rosalie put her hands on her hips. “’Cause you better have a girl. No brothers, okay?”

Kade had to press his lips together to hold back the laugh. “Okay, enough questions and demands for the night, Spark. Let’s get you home.”

He left a speechless Tessa behind him and got Rosalie to her mom. By the time he made it back to Tessa, the band had come on stage and the party was in full swing. He let her do her thing, taking care of the guests and directing the staff. He couldn’t get enough of watching her in her element—his successful, smart wife brimming with confidence and pride over a job well done. He was more than happy to stand on the sidelines and let her bask in the accolades everyone was giving her. And he almost burst with his own pride when she presented the huge check to the team from Bluebonnet Place. The charity would want for nothing for a long while.


But after the last song was played and the last guest had wandered off for the evening, he was ready to claim what was his. He stepped up behind her as she was gathering a stack of brochures from a table, and she relaxed into his hold.

“Leave everything here and come with me.”

“But I have to—”

“Hush.”

She turned in his arms and looked up at him, warmth brimming in her gaze. “Sorry, sir.”

He grabbed her hand. “It’s time to go.”

Her brows pinched together, but she let him lead her forward, trusting him to guide her into whatever he had planned. That subtle submissiveness never failed to tug strings inside him. He still couldn’t believe the universe had given him this gift. She was his. His.

“May I ask where I’m going, sir?”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to be with me?”

“Yep.”

She leaned into him, and he slipped his arm fully around her. “Then that’s all I ever need to know.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the words seep into his skin, the rightness of it all soak into his bones. The world had never felt so big and bright and full. The girl he’d dreamed about, angsted over, and lost so long ago was here. Loving him.

His perfect match.

Turns out that bitch, Fate, knew what she was doing after all.

He couldn’t wait to see what she had in store for them next.





Keep reading for an excerpt from the next Loving on the Edge novel by Roni Loren


NOTHING BETWEEN US

Coming soon from Heat



12:35 A.M.

Georgia Delaune had never been particularly drawn to illegal activity. Or taking risks. Or, okay, fine—sexually deviant behavior. She was woman enough to admit what this was. So finding herself hiding in the dark, peering around the curtains of her second story window with a set of binoculars, should’ve tipped her off that she was officially losing her shit. But since moving into the house on Fallen Oaks Lane six months earlier, she’d known this moment was coming. Before now, she’d convinced herself that she’d just been catching inadvertent peeks and unintentional glimpses. Her neighbor would surely shut his curtains if he didn’t want to risk being seen, right?

She groaned, lowered the binoculars, and pressed her forehead to the window frame. God, now she was blaming the victim. He gets naked in the confines of his own home. A home that’s on a tree-lined corner lot with tons of privacy and a six-foot-tall fence. How dare he!

This was so screwed up. What if he saw her? He could call the cops and she’d be slapped with some Peeping Tom charge—or Peeping Tomasina, as the case may be. That’d be an epic disaster. Especially when the cops found no information on a Georgia Delaune. Plus, afterward, she’d have to move because there’d be no facing her neighbor again. Not after he knew what she did at night. And there was no way in hell she was moving. It had taken too much time, effort, and planning to find this spot, to finally feel even a smidgen of security and safety. These walls were her only haven and she had no intention of leaving them.

But despite knowing the risks, when she saw a lamp flick on in the window of Colby Wilkes’s bedroom, she found herself dragging a chair over to the window and lifting the binoculars to her eyes. It took a second to adjust the focus, but when the lenses cleared, the broad, wet shoulders of her dark-haired neighbor filled the view. Her stomach dipped in anticipation.

He wasn’t alone.

She’d known he had friends over. She’d seen the group going in when she’d closed her living room blinds earlier that night. Two women and three guys, plus Colby. Later, she’d heard water splashing and the murmuring hum of voices so she’d gone into her backyard for a while to listen to the distant sounds of life and laughter. That world seemed so foreign to her now. Being surrounded by people, having friends over, relaxing by the pool. She couldn’t see anything from her backyard. Colby’s pool area was blocked by the house and bordered by trees. So she’d lain in her lounge chair out back, closed her eyes, and had imagined she was a guest at his party, that she was part of that laughter. And she’d also found herself wondering what would happen afterward.

Now she knew. Colby had stepped into his bedroom, obviously fresh from the pool with his dark hair wet and only a towel knotted around his waist. And he had company with him. One of Colby’s friends, a tall blond guy who was also sporting a towel, had followed him in. And then there was a woman. She wore nothing at all. Georgia’s lip tucked between her teeth, heat creeping into her face. She so shouldn’t be watching this. But she couldn’t turn away. She’d learned rather quickly that her dear neighbor, despite his affable grin, Southern-boy charm, and straight-laced job, was a freak in the bedroom. Threesomes were only part of it. After her last relationship, it should’ve turned her off, sent her running. Guys with secrets. F*ck no.

But the first time she’d caught sight of Colby bringing a flogger down on a lover’s back, Georgia had been transfixed. She’d been completely stuck on her latest writing project at the time. But after watching Colby drive a woman into a writhing, begging state, Georgia had gone into her office, opened a new document, and had written until the sun had broken through the curtains the next morning. Before she knew it, her thriller-in-progress had taken a decidedly erotic turn. Thankfully, her editor had loved the new direction. So now Georgia, in her guiltiest moments, told herself these stolen moments at the window were all in the name of book research.

Yeah. Even her sleep-deprived brain didn’t buy that one.

The guilt wasn’t enough to make her stop, though. Especially now when Colby was grabbing for the knot on his towel. She held her breath. The terry cloth fell to the floor at Colby’s feet, and everything inside Georgia went tight. Holy heaven above. She’d watched—oh, how she’d watched—but never before had she been able to see everything in such intimate detail. The binoculars transported her, took her by the hand and dragged her into that room with those strangers. Colby was right there in front of her—strong, beautiful, aroused. His hand wrapped around his cock and stroked ever so slowly, taunting her with unashamed confidence. No, not her. The woman. God, Georgia should look away. But need rolled through her like thunder from an oncoming storm, her fingers tightening around the binoculars.

The other man had stripped, too, and although he was gorgeous in his own right with his polished, movie-star good looks, Georgia was drawn to the rough-around-the-edges brawn of her neighbor. Every part of Colby hinted at the wildness he hid beneath his surface—dark wavy hair that was a little too long, the ever present stubble that shadowed his jaw, and a body that looked like he could bench press a Buick. He was the opposite of the pressed and creased, Armani-clad businessmen she’d been attracted to in her former life. He was the guy you’d be wary of on first glance if you ran into him in a dark alley—the cowboy whose hat-color you couldn’t quite determine straightaway.

Perhaps that was why she was so fascinated with him. She’d learned that danger often hid behind the gloss of an urbane smile and perfectly executed Windsor knot. Colby had none of that. But regardless of the reason for her attraction, she couldn’t stem the crackle of jealousy that went through her as the other man laced his fingers in the woman’s hair and guided her to take Colby into her mouth.

The view of Colby’s erection disappearing between the lips of some other woman was erotic. There was no denying that. But it also made Georgia’s jaw clench a little to hard. She could tell, even from the brief moments she’d been watching, that this woman was with Colby’s friend. They were a couple and Colby the third party. But it still activated Georgia’s He’s mine, bitch! reflex.

Georgia sniffed at her ridiculous, territorial reaction, and tried to loosen the tension gathering in her neck. Sure, he’s yours, girl. You can’t walk down the street without swallowing a pill first, much less go on a date if he was even interested in the weird, spying chick next door.

But she shoved the thought away. She didn’t want anything tainting these few precious minutes. This wasn’t about dates. Only when she stood at this window did she feel even a glimmer of her former self. This was her gossamer-thin lifeline to who she used to be, to the capable and confident woman who would’ve never hidden in the dark.

Before long, the blond man eased the woman away from Colby and guided her toward himself, taking his turn. Georgia lifted the binoculars upward, finding Colby’s face instead of focusing on the scene between the other man and his woman. What she found lurking in his expression wasn’t what she expected. There was heat in Colby’s eyes, interest for sure, but as she stared longer, she sensed a distance in those hazel depths. Like he was there with them but other . . . separate. Alone. It probably was only because the other two were a couple. Or maybe it was just Georgia’s mind slapping labels on things to make herself feel better. But regardless, it made her chest constrict with recognition. She didn’t know what it’d be like to be in a threesome. Or how it would feel to have a lover kneeling at her feet like he did. But she knew loneliness. And for those few seconds, she was convinced Colby did, too. She pressed her fingertip against the cool glass of the window, tracing the outline of Colby’s face. Needing to touch . . . something.


The glass may as well have been made of steel, the yards between the houses made of miles.

But she couldn’t walk away. The night went on and there she sat, watching the three lovers move to the bed, the woman being cuffed to the headboard. The two men lavished her with hands and mouths and tongues. It was like watching a silent symphony, the arching of the woman’s back the only thing Georgia needed to see to know exactly how these men were affecting their willing captive. The melancholy feelings that had stirred earlier had quickly been surpassed by ones much more base and primal. Georgia could feel her body growing hot and restless, her panties going damp.

When Colby braced himself between the woman’s thighs and entered her, Georgia trained the binoculars on his face, unable to handle the image of him having sex with another woman. Her mind was developing quite the ability to focus on the fantasy and block out the unwanted parts. She only had a view of Colby’s profile, but she watched with rapt attention as his jaw worked and his skin went slick with sweat instead of pool water.

Without giving it too much thought, she braced one elbow on the window ledge to hold the binoculars steady and let her other hand drift downward. Her cotton nightgown slid up her thighs easily. Somewhere her brain protested that this was wrong—sick and sad. She had a perfectly functioning vibrator in her bedside drawer. She had an imagination strong enough to fuel an orgasm without doing this, without watching the man next door screw another woman. But her starved libido didn’t seen to give a damn about morals or ethics or pride right now. There was need. And a solution. Simple as that.

As Colby’s lips parted with a sound she could only imagine, Georgia’s fingers found the edge of her panties and slipped beneath the material. Her body tightened at the touch and the little gasp she made reverberated in the dead silence of her bedroom. Colby’s head dipped between his shoulders, and Georgia imagined it was her he was whispering passionate words to. That deep Houston drawl telling her how good it felt to be inside her, how sexy she was, how he was going to make her come. He would be a dirty talker, she had no doubt. No sweet nothings from Colby Wilkes.

She closed her eyes for a moment as she moved her fingers in the rhythm of Colby’s thrust—long, languid strokes that had a fire building from her center and radiating heat outward. It wouldn’t take long. Her body was already singing with sensation, release hurtling toward her. But she wouldn’t go over alone. She forced her eyes open, the binoculars still in her grip, and found Colby again. His dark hair was curling against his neck, sweat glistening at his temples. And she knew he had to be close, too. Every muscle in his shoulders and back had tensed. All of her attention zeroed in on him, and in her mind, the touch of her own fingers morphed into his—his hands and body moving against her, inside her.

Every molecule in her body seemed to contract, preparing for the burst of energy to come. Her breath quickened, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. And right as she was about to close her eyes and go over, Colby jerked his head to the side toward the window. His hazel gaze collided with hers through the binoculars—a dead-on eye lock that seemed to reach inside Georgia and flip her inside out. He knows.

But she was too far gone for the shock to derail her. Orgasm careened through her with a force that made the chair scrape back across the wood floor. She moaned into the quiet, the binoculars slipping from her hand and jerking the strap around her neck. The part in the curtains fell shut, but she didn’t notice. Everything was too bright behind her eyelids, too good, to worry about anything else but the way she felt in those long seconds. Enjoy. Don’t think. Just feel. The words whispered through her as her fingers kept moving, her body determined to eke out every ounce of sensation she could manage.

But, of course, the blissful, mindless moments couldn’t last forever. Chilly reality made a swift reappearance as her gown slipped back down her thighs and sweat cooled on her skin. She sat there, staring at the closed curtain and listening to her thumping heart. Colby couldn’t know, right? His gaze had felt intense and knowing because the binoculars had made him seem so close. But her window was dark, her curtains darker, and the moon was throwing off enough light that it would make the glass simply reflect back the glow.

But her chest felt like a hundred hummingbirds had roosted there, beating their wings against her ribs. She wet her lips and swallowed past the constriction in her throat. She had to look. Would her neighbor be striding over here to demand what was going on? Would he be disgusted? Embarrassed? Angry?

God, she didn’t even want to think about it. She wanted to turn around, get in bed, and hide under the covers. But that’s all her life had turned into now—hiding. And though she couldn’t fix that situation, she refused to create another one. So she forced herself to lean forward and peel the curtains back one more time, leaving the binoculars hanging around her neck.

What she saw made the hummingbirds thrash more. Colby wasn’t even in the room anymore. His friend was now with the woman in the bed, and both seemed totally absorbed in each other. Did that mean that Colby had left and was heading this way to confront her? She was about to go to the front of the house to check the yard but then paused when she realized nothing had changed about the view. Nothing at all. If Colby had been concerned about a nosy neighbor, he hadn’t bothered to close the curtains or warn his friends. Surely, he would’ve done that.

She sat there, debating and worrying, but soon Colby returned to the bedroom. The man and woman had finished. Colby had on a pair of boxers and had brought clean towels in for everyone. He didn’t look concerned. He didn’t glance over at the window. He seemed perfectly relaxed as he helped untie the woman’s hands, kissed her forehead in a friendly gesture, and then left his friends to sleep alone.

Georgia let out a long breath, sagging in the chair.

He didn’t know.

She should stop taking this risk. Throw away the binoculars, put a bookcase in front of this damn window, and stop while she was ahead.

But she knew she wouldn’t. She would find herself here again.

Because if she didn’t have her secret nights with Colby Wilkes, what was left?

Four walls, long days, and fear.

She needed this. She just had to make sure he never found out.





Keep reading for an excerpt from the steamy Loving on the Edge serial by Roni Loren, now in complete novel edition


NOT UNTIL YOU

Coming soon from Heat



“Andre, this isn’t a good time. Can I call you back?”

I did my best not to let my cell phone slip from between my ear and shoulder. Just don’t drop the tequila. I adjusted the enormous bottle that my friend Bailey had given me as a graduation present from my right hand to beneath my left arm and tried to dig my keys out of my purse so I could open the main door to my apartment building.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to make it, Cela,” my older brother said, his guilt obviously trumping my request to call him later. “I got caught at an investigation site this morning. I thought I’d be able to get there in time, but we had a witness wanting to talk and . . .”

I cursed silently as my keys hit the pavement. I crouched down, doing my best not to flash my underwear to anyone who may be passing by. “Really, it’s fine. They called my name. I walked across the stage and got a piece of paper and a sash for being summa cum laude. Papá yelled my name like he was at a baseball game instead of a ceremony. Mamá cried. We all went to lunch at Rosario’s and then the two of them headed back to the airport. Not that interesting.”

My brother’s heavy sigh said everything. I almost felt guilty that he felt so guilty. “Before you move back home next month, we’re getting together to celebrate. My baby sister, the doctor. I’m so proud I could burst.”

I smiled. I did like the sound of that. Dr. Marcela Medina, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. Seven years of exams and studying and clinics, but it was finally done. Now it was time to leave Dallas and head back home to Verde Pass and take up the slack in my dad’s practice.

That last part had my smile faltering a bit. I hooked my key ring with my finger and wobbled back to a stand. “That sounds great. But I really have to get going. I have my hands full and need to get through the door.”

“Cela, you know better than to carry too much. Parking lots at night are one of the most dangerous places for women. Are you holding your mace?” he asked, his voice going into that bossy cop tone I was all too familiar with.

“It’s in my hand,” I lied, trying to remember where I’d stowed the last little canister he’d given me—probably in my junk drawer. “But I don’t have a free hand to pull the door open.”

“All right,” he said, placated. “Congratulations again. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The call ended but I didn’t have a way to take the phone off my ear, so I just shuffled forward in a sideways hunch, trying to juggle everything I was holding to get my key into the door. After two attempts, I got the lock turned and pressed my back against the glass door to push my way into the lobby.


As soon as I’d cleared the entrance and turned toward the stairs, male voices sounded behind me. Of course someone would show up right after I didn’t need help anymore. I peeked back to see who it was, Andre’s danger warnings still echoing in my head, but found something more distracting than criminals—my neighbors, Foster and Pike.

Foster stepped through the main door first and glanced my way. As usual, everything went melty inside me, his smile like a zap of heat to my system. Ridiculous. “Need some help, neighbor?”

I straightened, but forgot about my phone in the process. My brand new iPhone went sliding off my shoulder.

“Crap!” I lurched forward, trying to save it from its imminent demise, and accidentally dropped my plastic bag of Chinese takeout on the way.

“Whoa, there.” Pike, Foster’s roommate, was at my side in a second. His hand caught my elbow, saving me from losing the ginormous bottle of liquor along with my balance. But my phone clattered to the ground, the harsh sound mixing with the splat of my noodles hitting tile.

I winced, anticipating a broken screen. “Dammit.”

Foster bent down, his tie brushing the ground as he swept my phone off the floor. He peered at the screen, dark brows lowering over pale eyes, then he turned the phone toward me—the happy puppy screensaver staring back at me intact. “All is well. Luckily, these things are built to take a licking.”

My brain got snagged on the word lick, and the back of my neck went hot. My lips parted, but words failed me. Great, imitate a gaping goldfish—that’s cute.

Pike cleared his throat, easing the tequila from my arms, and then crouched down near the open bag at my feet. He grabbed a noodle from the spilled box of Chinese food, tipped his head back, and dropped the noodle into his mouth, his eyes watching mine. “The lo mein’s a loss, though.”

I swallowed hard, his gaze even more bad boy than the tattoos peeking out from his open collar. His pierced tongue snaked around the noodle. Look away. I forced my face upward, but then ended up focusing on Foster again. Say something. God, I was standing there like an idiot. This was why I always avoided these two like they were contagious. They made me go stupid.

Foster held out my phone, and I managed to take it, the slight brush of his fingers against mine hitting the Reset button in my brain. I managed a feeble, “Thank you.”

Foster glanced at the mess on the floor. “I’m really sorry I said anything. I didn’t mean to distract you from your intricate juggling act.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been trying to carry everything at once. It’s been a long day, and I was hoping to save myself a second trip up the stairs.”

“The joys of a walk-up.” Pike grabbed a few napkins and started cleaning up the noodles at my feet like it was his mess to worry about.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” I lowered down to my knees. “I’ll take care of it.”

He grinned over at me, the mirror opposite of his roommate. Ian Foster was all suits and dark looks—a man who preferred to be called by his surname. Whereas Pike didn’t seem to even have a last name. He was a drummer in some popular local band—jeans, a sex-on-the-mind smile, and spiked, bleached hair his usual uniform. Not that I had studied either of them. Or listened to their escapades through the wall I shared with them. Not at all.

Keep telling yourself that, Cela.

Despite my protest, Pike helped me finish picking up the mess. “So what’s the big-ass bottle of tequila for? No one could’ve had that bad of a day.”

I glanced over at the bottle I’d set on the floor, debating whether I could be trusted to have a normal conversation with these two without sounding like I had a speech impediment. “I, uh, graduated today. It was a gift.”

“Oh, right on.”

“Congratulations, Cela,” Foster said. Just the sound of him saying my name in that smooth, dark voice had my stomach clenching. He was all Southern refinement, but I didn’t miss the glimmer of a drawl underneath it all.

Ay dios mío. My body clamored to attention like an eager Labrador ready to be petted. Down, girl. These guys were way above my pay grade. I wasn’t dumb or delusional. I’d seen/spied on/secretly hated the women who’d passed through their apartment door—women who looked like they’d earned their doctorates in the art of seduction.

I hadn’t even reached the kindergarten level in that particular department.

“Thank you.”

“You were going to vet school at Dallas U, right?” Foster had tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and though the question was casual, I had the distinct impression he was tense beneath that suit jacket.

Pike handed me a napkin for my hands and stood to toss the food into a nearby trash can.

I wiped off my hands and pushed myself to my feet, trying to do it as gracefully as possible in my restrictive skirt. “Yes, how’d you know that?”

“The scrubs you wear have the school insignia on them,” Foster said, as if it was totally normal that he’d looked at me that closely.

“Observant.” Especially considering I usually only managed a head-down, mumbled, hey-how-are-ya exchange when we passed each other in the hallway. Secretly listening to one of your hot neighbors having sex had a way of making eye contact a bit uncomfortable the next day—particularly if said eavesdropper had used the soundtrack to fuel her own interlude with her battery-operated boyfriend.

Not that I had. Several times. Whatever.

Pike sidled up next to Foster—a motley pair if there ever was one. “So, doc, now that you’ve got no dinner and clearly too much liquor on your hands, why don’t you join us? We already have pizza on the way, and we can play a drinking game with the tequila. Do college kids still play Never Have I Ever? I was always good at that one.”

Kid? Is that what they saw me as? Neither of them could be that much older than I was. Though in terms of life experience, I had no doubt they trumped me a few times over.

“Oh, no, that’s okay.” The refusal was automatic, long practiced. How many times had I turned down such offers—from guys, from friends? My parents had been so strict when I was younger that I almost didn’t know how to say yes even after living on my own the last few years. Studies first. Fun later. Yet, there never seemed to be any time for fun after the first one was finished.

“You sure? I don’t want you going to bed with no dinner because of us,” Foster said, frown lines marring that perfect mouth of his.

Going to bed and us was about all I heard. My father’s stern voice whispered in my ear. You don’t know these men. You’ll be all alone in their apartment. Medina women have more respect for themselves than that.

“Really, I’m fine. I had a big lunch,” I said, my smile brief, plastic. “But thanks.”

“Oh, come on,” Pike said, his tone cajoling. “We’ve been neighbors for what, two years? We should at least get to know a little about each other.”

Get to know each other? I knew that Foster was loud when he came—even if he was alone. Knew that Pike liked to laugh during sex. Knew the two men shared women. And the other sounds I’d heard over the last two years . . . the smacks, the commands, the erotic screams. My face went as hot as if I’d stuck my head in an oven.

“Y’all just want me for my tequila,” I said, attempting to deflect my derailing thoughts.

The corner of Pike’s mouth lifted. “Of course that’s not all we want you for.”

“Uh . . .” Oh, hell. Pictures flashed across my brain. Dirty, delicious pictures. I almost dropped my phone again. I had no idea what to do with my hands, my expression.

Foster put a hand on Pike’s shoulder. “The lady said no. I think we should let her go celebrate her graduation however she wants.”

“All right.” Pike’s face turned hangdog, but he handed me the tequila bottle. “If you change your mind, we’ve got big plans. Supreme pizza and a Star Wars–themed porn marathon. The Empire Sucks C—”

Foster smacked the back of Pike’s head, and Pike ducked and laughed.

“Kidding. I mean, a Jane Austen marathon,” Pike corrected, his green-gold eyes solemn. “Pride and Pu—”

Foster was behind Pike, his hand clamping over his friend’s mouth in a flash. “I seriously can’t take him out. He’s like an untrained puppy. Maybe you can lend me a shock collar or something.”

Pike waggled his eyebrows, all playful wickedness.

I laughed, putting my hand to my too hot forehead, and turning toward the stairs. “Yeah, so, I’m going to go now.”

“Cela,” Foster said as I put my foot onto the first step.

I glanced back. “Yeah?”

His ice-melt eyes flicked downward, his gaze alighting along the length of me before tracing their way upward again in a slow, unashamed perusal. “Promise you won’t go to bed hungry.”

I wet my lips, my skin suddenly feeling too tight to accommodate the blood pumping beneath it, and nodded.

But it was a lie.

I always went to bed hungry.

And it had nothing to do with a spilled dinner.