Brock was hard.

I could totally see that, because his nylon pants did nothing to hide all that he had going on down there. My gaze flew to his.

The grin on his face spread. “So, I’ve been thinking about something.”

“You have?” I asked doubtfully. With that massive of an erection there was probably only one thing he was thinking about.

“Laid awake most of the night,” he said, tipping his head back. “It’s about something you said to me this weekend.”

I’d said a lot of things this weekend. Leaning back against his desk, I folded my hands over the smooth edge. “I’m going to need a little more detail.”

“You said you wanted to start really living. I want to help you do that.”

My heart turned over heavily in response to his statement. “I’m pretty sure you already did.”

“Yeah. I did. But that was just one thing. Don’t get me wrong. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Can’t wait to get my mouth between your legs again,” he told me, and my jaw nearly hit the floor. Holy crap, he said that like we were discussing the weather or something. He leaned forward, unclasping his hands. “What have you done since you left me?”

Left him? Did he really think that I left him? I never thought of that way, but I guess he could. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You went to school for a little while and you’ve worked. I know that. What else have you done?”

I opened my mouth to tell him, but I came up empty. There was nothing to tell him. Nothing. It was like I was this blank canvas. Nothing on the outside or inside. A knot formed in my throat and my eyes suddenly burned.

“Hey,” he said quietly, clasping my hips in his large hands. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah. Of course.” I cleared my throat. “I’m okay.”

His solemn gaze searched mine. “I’m not asking that question to upset you.”

“I know.” And I did.

Brock’s hands tightened. “Do you remember sitting out on your parents’ swing and talking about all the places you wanted to visit?”

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded jerkily.

“Did you see those places?”

I shook my head no.

“You still want to see those places?” he asked. “I think I remember some of them. You wanted to see the Pacific Coast Highway and travel overseas. Scotland, right?”

“Right,” I whispered. My heart was doing back springs and cartwheels.

“And I think, if I remember correctly, you wanted to take a road trip on the old Route 66? Something about the world’s largest bottle?”

A soft, shaky laugh shook me. “The world’s largest ketchup bottle.”

He shook his head. “I still have no idea why you want to see that—”