Sydney returned to Luke’s to find him asleep on the sofa and was relieved to have a few minutes to regroup from the emotional encounter with her parents. She couldn’t believe she’d blurted out that she loved Luke more than Seth. What kind of monster was she to admit such a thing?

She stood at the kitchen sink and looked out at the water, trying to collect herself. Maybe her father was right and it was too soon to be getting so involved with Luke. No, she thought. It’s not too soon. I won’t let them fill my head with doubts when I’ve been feeling so much better about everything lately.

Folding her trembling hands, she took deep cleansing breaths the way her counselor had taught her whenever anxiety got the better of her. Funny how she’d never had anxiety issues until the worst possible thing had happened.

She was so focused on breathing that she never heard Luke come up behind her until his chin landed on her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

Sydney closed her eyes and rode the wave of tenderness and desire that surged through her at the sound of his familiar voice. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

He massaged her shoulders. “Then why are you tighter than a drum?”

“You shouldn’t be on your foot.”

“I’m not.”

She looked over her shoulder to find him propped on the crutches. “How is it?”

“We’re talking about you, not me.”

Looking out the window again, she said, “I’m a bad person. A truly bad person.” The last thing she expected from him was laughter.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Sydney shrugged off his hands and wiggled away from him, mindful of his precarious balance. “It’s not funny.”

He grabbed her hand to keep her from getting away. “You’re not a bad person, Syd. I’m not sure who told you that, but they’re wrong.”

“I told me that. It’s the truth. You shouldn’t even want to be with me. That’s how awful I am.”

Luke dropped her hand and cupped her face. “What brought this on?”

Sydney couldn’t bear to look at him. Just being in the same room with him made her itchy with the kind of all-consuming desire she’d never felt for anyone but him—and that was the problem.

He brought her in closer to him, settling her head on his chest. “I wish you’d tell me what’s got you so wound up.”

“I can’t say it again. It was bad enough the first time.”

“What was?”

“I had another argument with my parents,” she muttered, her voice muffled by his chest. “I said something so awful, so monstrous.”

“About them?”

She shook her head. “About Seth.”