“I don’t…” I frown and press my palm to my forehead. “I don’t understand.”

“We broke up before she left, but didn’t want to ruin Noah’s birthday, especially with her leaving so soon. We both need to be here to help him process it once we tell him.”

I want to look away, to break the contact between our eyes, but this moment is quicksand, holding me immobile and pulling me under. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

My body comes to life at his words, under the intensity of his stare and the promise of satisfaction for us both. He doesn’t say any more for a moment and then clears his throat, goes on. “Mona’s trying to hook you up with Barry.”

“And?” I ask, watching to see if his impassive expression tells me more than he has.

“Don’t.”

Just one word. Downright polite, but when he lifts his lashes, his eyes are black-blue, midnight swimming in the deepest ocean.

“I overheard you tell Mona you like to fuck,” he says, trapping the fullness of his bottom lip between his teeth. “So do I. If you’re in the market for someone, I’d like it to be me.”

The seductive offer, the dark rasp of his voice caressing the word "fuck" snatches my breath. I’m not sure which is more dangerous. Ezra taken or Ezra for the taking. Rarely have any of my sexual relationships been complicated. It was a release, a transaction of pleasure between two consenting adults who were free to transact with whomever they pleased.

I already know Ezra would be a different story.

“Ez—”

“I don’t want to see you with him.”

“I know you’ve been off the market,” I say dryly. “But that’s not exactly how a man talks when all he wants to do is to fuck.”

“What do you want me to say? That I don’t feel anything for you? You know that’s a lie. Whatever was between us when we were young never got the chance to become…more. But it’s still there, and it could never be nothing.”

The words resonate with truth, and all I can do is agree. I felt it at the funeral. I felt it as soon as I saw him again. God knows I felt it when he kissed me.

“You don’t have to worry. I was gonna let Barry down easy when he calls.”

“Good,” he says, satisfaction in his narrowed eyes. “Do that.”

I look down at my hands. “I don’t want Barry.”

“Do you want me?”

It’s a bold question. Everything about this conversation is bold, unabashed, bare.

“Yes.” I shake my head before he can pounce on my admission. “But I’m not sure this is the best thing right now for either of us.”

“Let me decide what’s best for me.”