“Returning to my original question,” he said, “don’t your aunt and uncle understand how HIV is transmitted?”

She blew out the breath she’d been holding, grateful once again that he’d pulled them back on topic. “I really don’t know. I’ve explained it to them. It’s really just Jim who’s the ass about it. Tammy doesn’t fight him on anything, though. Which is why I’m so glad that Greg lives with Deacon and Faith now. Living with Tammy and Jim wasn’t good for him. Jim has very strong beliefs, most of them ones I don’t agree with. He pretty much hates anyone who isn’t like him.”

“Which is why you didn’t tell them about your status,” Diesel said, then shrugged one massive shoulder. “Makes sense to me.”

Do not look at his shoulders. Focus. “My brothers knew and so did Adam. But none of us had told Tammy and Jim. I asked the boys not to. When the news broke . . .” She stared down into her tea, feeling her cheeks heat as she relived the humiliation of the entire community learning of her medical status. “Tammy and Jim were very angry with me. They had a right to be, I guess.”

Diesel’s chair creaked a second before his hand entered her field of vision, one thick finger tipping her chin up. Once again, his face was a breath away from hers.

Expression fierce, he held her gaze. “Why were they angry with you?”

She swallowed hard, unable to look away. His eyes were dark and held a touch of wildness that made her heart beat faster. “Because I was stupid enough to get HIV. Because I was selfish enough to keep on working. Because I was cruel enough not to tell them before.”

“So they could already be telling you to quit?” he gritted out, clearly angry himself. But on her behalf. “That your ‘clock is ticking’? That the people you serve at the clinic don’t deserve care? They were selfish and cruel. Not you.”

“I can be selfish,” she whispered, her eyes stinging. I’ve been selfish with you, secretly basking in your attention, knowing I can never be what you need.

His head tilted as he studied her so intently she wanted to look away. But still she couldn’t.

“I would hope so,” he said softly. “I hope you can be selfish, at least sometimes. You’re always doing things for other people. You deserve to do something for yourself.”

She blinked once, sending hot tears streaking down her cheeks. Wishing she could have him. Wishing she could at least try. “You’re too nice, Diesel. You’re going to get hurt.”

His eyes flickered with . . . what? Apprehension? Regret? “Who’s going to hurt me, Dani?”

She drew a breath. “Me.”

Chapter Eight

Cincinnati, Ohio
Saturday, March 16, 9:05 p.m.