To the one man I was pretty sure I was falling for.

“God,” I grumbled, slamming my head back against the brick wall at the subway platform.

How the hell had I let that happen?

I hadn’t even realized I’d been capable of love. Not romantic love, anyway.

That said, I never spent enough time with a man before to allow any kind of feelings to grow.

And none of those men before were even remotely like Soren. And certainly none of them knew how to handle me the way Soren did.

He was so attuned to me. He knew when he could be soft and sweet with me, when he could evoke emotions and expose vulnerabilities, and how to comfort me when they arose. But he also knew when to give me space or humor.

My memory flashed back to Teresa’s words about rings and babies, and I could suddenly see that for myself so clearly. Even though I’d never given either of those a second thought before.

Maybe because I hadn’t known Soren before.

“Ugh,” I grumbled, slipping into a seat on the subway.

Because it didn’t matter how much either of us might be picturing a future.

We could never have one.

Because I could never tell him the truth about me.

I mean, even if Renzo decided to let me open up, the chances of Soren forgiving me for being lied to like that were near zero.

I spent the rest of the ride fighting off stupid, useless tears and telling myself that while I was going to go to Soren’s place for some sweaty fun, I wasn’t going to stay for the snuggling. And I damn sure wasn’t going to stay over.

I had to start putting the walls back into place again, since the rules clearly weren’t doing the heavy lifting like I’d hoped.

I was just coming up the steps at the station in Brooklyn when my phone started to ring in my pocket.

Not recognizing the number, I swiped the screen and brought it to my ear, barking out a sharp, “What?”

“Saff, it’s Cormac,” he said in my ear, seemingly unbothered by my outburst, which made me worry a bit about what kind of drunk his father might be.

“Cormac. What’s up?” I asked, wondering if he maybe needed an advance on the next day’s work. It wouldn’t be the first time. He’d called panicked from the urgent care when his youngest brother had been spiking an awful fever. And he didn’t have the cash for the visit. Bass had shown up and paid for the visit, the prescription, and some over-the-counter shit that wasn’t strictly necessary but would make the kid a lot more comfortable.

Cormac, hating the idea of handouts, insisted on doing something in exchange for it.

So Bastian had a nice clean apartment.

The kid was better.