She immediately missed the heat of his body. Catie frowned. She’d been taking care of herself a long time. Even with Ísa in her corner, given the custody arrangement, there’d inevitably been times when it had been just her and Clive. As a result, she’d long ago learned to handle the world on her own. So it was a shock to realize she’d liked the feeling of being protected by a big body.

Had to be her hormones acting up.

After all, she’d just kissed Daniel “Hotshot” Esera, Bane of her Existence and Nemesis Number One.

Shoving his hands through his hair, the action pulling up his tee a little, Danny said, “What are we going to do?”

She blew out a quiet breath. “Don’t know about you, but ignoring it doesn’t seem to be working for me.” That part of her came from Jacqueline—calling a spade a spade, a problem a problem.

“Nope.” Danny dropped his hands to his hips. “But it’s not just about us.”

“Exactly.” On that, they were on the same page. She and Danny were connected by too many people who loved both of them; any screwups would have a far-reaching impact. “We could acknowledge it, then agree to blank it out forevermore.”

Danny dropped his head a little, then looked back up, his hair falling over his forehead. “Nope. Not liking that option. I have you on the brain and the body, Catie.”

She coughed, looked away, then sucked it up and told the truth. “Yeah, same.” It was hard for her, admitting vulnerability on any level, but fair was fair. “Then it has to be option two—we explore this until it burns out, without ever saying a word to anyone else.”

A frown creasing his forehead, Danny stepped closer. “What if it doesn’t burn out?” A soft question, his body a warm pulse against her.

Catie hadn’t thought that far ahead, couldn’t think that far ahead. Because if she did, what if she started to want things from him? A man like her sister’s husband? Someone who loved without limits and put his mate and family first? They didn’t grow on trees, and Danny was a young sports god who’d dated woman after woman with no sign that he wanted a full-on committed relationship.

He was like a honeybee, checking out all the different flowers.

Which was fine if that was his thing—but it wasn’t hers. Catie had grown up with a man who couldn’t commit to her. She was done with that. Finito. Over. The end. Friends with benefits was not a concept in her emotional vocabulary—there were too many fuzzy edges for her in such a relationship.

On the flip side, they had to face this and sort it.