My heart leapt in my chest, slamming against my ribs as I stared at his shadowy profile. My mouth dried, and I didn’t pull my hand out from his. I was mostly frozen, except for my mouth. Unfortunately. “Are you and Kristen still together?” I wanted to smack myself upside the head the moment I asked that question, because I really didn’t need to know the answer.

“I told you we weren’t engaged.” Brock shot me a wry grin.

He had. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not still seeing each other. You went back to Philly this weekend and—”

“I want back there to sign paperwork for the sale of the house,” he explained. “I did see Kristen. She still had things she needed to get out of there. It’s taken her a year. I told her if she didn’t get her stuff out this weekend, I was donating the shit.”

“Oh.” My eyes widened.

“She wasn’t exactly happy about that.” His thumb moved over the side of my pinky, sliding up and down. It was such a slight touch, but my entire being focused on it. “It was a long weekend.”

Gathering my thoughts, I recalled how tired he’d looked Monday morning. “So . . . why did she come here?”

“You know, I wish I knew why. None of the reasons she gave me made a damn bit of sense, all things considered.” His thumb still moved over my hand. Did he realize he was doing that? I was pretty sure that wasn’t something a boss did with their employee or friends, because that would get weird quick. “But to answer your question, no, I’m not seeing Kristen in any shape or form.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

The Porsche coasted to a stop at a red light and he looked over at me, his eyes hidden in the darkness of the car. “I’m not seeing anyone, Jillian.”

My lips parted, but I couldn’t get any words out, and my heart was really going crazy now. I lifted my gaze to his and I was snared. For a few brief seconds, there was no past, no yesterday and no tomorrow. There was just now, just Brock and me in this car, his thumb tracing invisible lines over my hand.

Then the light turned green.

A car honked behind us.

A boyish, almost sheepish grin curved his lips and he hit the gas pedal. I looked at our hands. What was he doing? What was I allowing? Biting down on my lip, I slipped my hand free of his.

For a second, his entire hand was flush with my thigh, the weight burning through the thin material of my skirt. Heat pooled low in my belly. His hand was just there for a few seconds, but my body’s reaction was sharp and swift. Arousal pounded through my veins.