“Your reputation?” She clutched her chest. “Sure, you’re a nice guy and all, but you don’t seem very innocent to me.”

If she only knew.

That heady feeling of adrenaline and confidence wanted me to act. If Rowan were here, he’d be begging me to live a little. Fuck each other, have some temporary fun, and then move on.

But Tabitha wasn’t an extra dessert or a hangover I’d regret. She was my most challenging opponent yet, and there was no training my way out of this unnecessary complication.

With the last remaining scraps of that willpower, I sat back and pressed my shoulder blades to the storm door. It freed my hand and put a couple inches between us.

Tabitha had had me on the ropes from the second she’d fallen into my lap. I’d had a thing for this woman since high school. She was my neighbor. And I’d just asked her to build a park with me.

I was already too attached.

15. Tabitha

Fifteen

Tabitha

Dean slid back on the stoop, away from me. I observed the clench in his jaw and his newly rigid body language. When he cast a tiny self-conscious smile my way, a tidal wave of disappointment swept over me.

“You, um…we should be prepared to be talked about around the kiddie pool,” he said. “Or at church on Sunday.”

I regained my composure and raised an eyebrow. “That’s how you know you’ve really done something scandalous. We’re sitting outside together, where anyone can see. Dessert is involved. It’s way past your early bedtime.” I dropped my voice to a dramatic whisper. “And tomorrow? I’ll be helping you put a whole lot of trash in a dumpster.”

He was a deliberate person. Some part of me understood his pulling away was a gentle no to my unspoken question. Though who was I kidding, I hadn’t been that unspoken about anything. I wanted to blame seeing Dean Knox-Morelli in a towel and still wet from the shower. I’d watched his fights. Technically, I’d already seen him shirtless.

Up close was different. Up close had—apparently—broken my damn brain.

His shoulders had been wide as a country barn, chest covered in dark hair, every glorious ridge of his abdomen flexing. The towel had slid half an inch past his hips, and drops of water had run down his skin. His muscles had shone like a work of art, highlighting even the hidden scars.