She tilts her head back, eyes barely parting as if the dim light is too much even now. “I’d like to go with you sometime. I mean, if you ever want company. I’d love to help.”

Fuck. My chest tightens. No one’s ever said that before. No one’s ever wanted to be part of that side of my life.

Not that she has any clue how close it hits to home for me.

I nod. “Yeah. Maybe.” I’d like that.

I finish washing her hair in silence, afraid that any conversation might lead to more questions I’m not ready to answer.

When her hair is done, when she’s dressed in a fluffy robe, lying on her bed, I assure her the cookies downstairs are coming along just fine.

And then I crawl into bed beside her, tuck her against my chest, and let her steady breathing and warm body calm my mind.

I should be asleep.

It doesn’t come though, because my head is no longer quiet. In fact, it’s screaming.

“I’d like to go with you sometime. I mean, if you ever want company. I’d love to help.”

How does she keep on giving? Yes, I’ve helped her financially, but I’ve uprooted her life, asked her not to crowd mine, and yet, she keeps offering so much to me. Her kindness, her smiles, her light . . . her body.

“Need me. Take me. Want me. Use me.” And I have. I do. Repeatedly. Uncontrollably.

And then Vince’s words roll through my head . . . again.

“I remember what it was like to say shit like that—her—when it came to Bristol. Like you want to pretend that fucking ache in your chest isn’t there but you can’t fucking ignore it.”

I’ve never fallen for anyone before.

But if this is what it feels like, then . . . fuck.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Hendrix

A smirk plays on Josie’s lips as she leans on the bakery counter. “Okay, spill it. How is it living with a sex god?”

I snort. “Josie—”

“Don’t ‘Josie’ me.” She waves a hand. “You’re married to freaking Gizmo. And from what I’ve seen, from the rumors floating around, the man worships the ground you walk on. So?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s . . . fine.”

She scoffs. “Fine? I’m going to need more here than just fine. You’re newlyweds. There should be lots of sex. Lots of passion. Lots of late night . . . I don’t know.” She laughs.

I pick up a cookie and study the design on it to stall. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Josie grins wickedly. “Oh, I know exactly what I want you to say, but fine, keep your secrets.”

Secrets.