But she didn’t complain. She’d barely said anything tonight. Her consent was clear. He asked for it because that’s what he did. They both needed to be in the mood for him to want it. He wasn’t a sex-for-the-sake-of-sex guy. The days of quick hookups for relief were far in his past.

His mind refused to shut off. Something bugged him but he couldn’t tell what it was. It pricked at the back of his mind, just out of reach. He tried to assess and analyze but those skills abandoned him as well.

That was annoying as hell.

Every piece of tonight had been good but not mind-blowingly great. He wanted to blame exhaustion and all they’d seen and been through over the last few days. Switching houses, worry, panic. A shooting. The list of horrible examples stretched out pretty long.

He rolled off her onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t go far and still held her hand.

This was the part where they talked. Curled around each other in the darkness and laughed. Told a joke or a story. Relived something that happened that day. It was their ritual. An intimacy shared in the darkness that went beyond sex. Those moments were about connecting, about learning things about her other than how to give her pleasure.

In those quiet minutes of understanding she started to mean more to him than he’d planned. The vacation fling he thought they both expected blossomed into something deeper. They practically lived together—they actually had for two weeks—but this was the first time he felt a chasm stretching between them.

There was an easy argument about the danger working as an aphrodisiac. He discounted that as soon as he thought it.

He was overreacting. A tired body and a frazzled mind. That explained their last few days. No wonder the mood felt . . . off.

He rolled over, thinking to wrap an arm around her and drag her close to his side. Just as he did, she turned. Away from him. She didn’t inch to the edge but she didn’t rest against him either.

The closeness he’d come to expect vanished.

He hoped it was just for one night.

Maddie waited until Connor’s breathing grew heavy to ease out of bed. The mattress dipped under her but when she turned to look at him, his eyes stayed closed.

She made it to the bathroom before letting go of the breath she’d been holding.