“There’s prostitutes out there, Remi! Lot’s of them.”

She’d been just about to remark that he was more likely to get into trouble with a loan shark than a prostitute when a Honda Fit had bounced right off the passenger door.

Brick had looked positively murderous at the ferry landing.

The look he leveled her with was stormy. He held her gaze for a tumultuous minute before he gave a rueful shake of his head. “It was never about the truck. He wasn’t careful with you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. They’d been dancing around the issue for an eternity. She was single. She was of age. And she was more than willing. Was he finally admitting that he cared?

“Breathe, Rem.” His hand, big, warm, callused, closed over her shoulder and covered part of her chest. It felt so good. So right. So inevitable. Why the hell wasn’t he kissing her yet?

“Brick. I’m eighteen. I’m out of school. I’m not seeing Spencer anymore. I’m not a damn virgin. What the hell are you waiting for?” The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush.

“Don’t,” he warned.

“Don’t what? Damn it, Brick. Don’t you want me?”

“Is that what you think?”

“I’m tired of thinking, of guessing. Spell it out for me. You’re there every time I need you, sometimes even before I know I need you. You know all my deepest, darkest secrets. You are the only person who can tell when I’m lying. When you look at me after you’ve worn through all your willpower for the day, sometimes it looks like you can’t decide if you want to devour me or destroy me.”

She could see the clench of his jaw, how the cords of his neck stood out, and knew he was close to breaking.

“God damn it, Remi. Please stop talking.” But he didn’t back up. He didn’t take his hand off her. It anchored her to the spot, to him. It gave her the focus and the strength to see it through.

“You need to say it,” she insisted. “One way or another, you need to tell me where I stand with you.”

“You’re safe with me. That’s all you need to know.” His fingers curled into the flesh of her shoulder like they couldn’t help themselves.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. I’m sick of being safe. Aren’t you tired of protecting me?”

“Yes!” he bellowed. “I’m fucking exhausted! Are you happy? I’m tired of keeping you out of trouble and keeping my damn hands off you.”

Her hands shot up triumphantly. “Finally!” The transformation was already beginning. He could see her as something more than his little brother’s annoying friend. He would let her be more.

“Remi. You’re leaving for school in a couple of weeks,” he said.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” To her, a summer fling was the epitome of adulthood. Being grown-up to enjoy a temporary relationship that they both could look back on fondly? Share secret winks across the Thanksgiving table. Maybe pick back up where they left off once she was done with college. Yes, please. Sign her up.