He shook his head vigorously. “God, I loved it. Casey. When is it going to get through to you that I love everything you do to me?”

Warmth bloomed inside her chest, like a big daisy flower in the summer. This man made her feel so sexy, and so passionate, and no one had done that for her in years. When she’d been with Scott, she’d spent her days engineering pleasure for others, and her nights trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong in the bedroom. With Nate, she felt both beautiful and desired. She wanted to clutch this feeling close to her chest, and hold onto it for all time. She wanted to share it with him too. “I’m happy you liked it. I wanted you to feel better,” she said, running her hand along his arm. “I hated that Joanna put you in a funk, so I wanted to do something to get you out of it.”

He wrenched back, narrowing his eyes, staring at her in surprise. “Please tell me you didn’t give me a blow job because you felt sorry for me because of my ex-wife.”

Cold needles of worry pricked into her. She shook her head quickly. “Of course not,” she said, her voice rising.

He backed away, shoving a hand through his hair. “Casey,” he said, in a frustrated tone as he reached the doorway to the bathroom, leaning against it.

“Nate, it wasn’t a pity blow job,” she said, closing the distance between them again, refusing to let him shut down.

“You just said you did it because you felt bad about Joanna.”

“I did feel bad about Joanna. I also wanted your dick in my mouth,” she said, choosing to be particularly blunt.

He laughed once, then stopped. “I like the second part of that better than the first. Can you say that second part again?”

She tap-danced her hands up the front of his shirt. “I loved doing that to you. But I’m not going to shy away from saying the hard things. And that’s this—I wish Joanna didn’t have such a hold on you,” she said with a sigh.

“She doesn’t have a hold on me,” he said quickly, perhaps too quickly, too insistently.

The memory of last night outside his apartment flashed before her, and she pressed on. “I think she does, though. She hurt you and seeing her reminds you of how deep that hurt is. Right?”

He sighed, then held up his hands in admission. “Fine. She hurt me. And, fine. I don’t like seeing her. You got me on both accounts. Can we just talk about anything else?”

“We don’t have to talk about her,” she said. “But sometimes I want to talk about the past. I want to understand it. I want to move beyond it, and I want you to be able to as well. And maybe sometimes I want to do something physical to bring you back to the present, okay?” she said, staring hard in his eyes, refusing to let go of this issue. It was important to her. She didn’t intend to let Joanna stand in the middle of them, whether they were friends or part-time lovers. “I hate that she hurt you. I don’t want anyone to hurt you ever. But don’t let the hurt define you. Don’t let her define you. You have so much to give a woman, and I don’t want you to lose out because of what she did, Nate.”