“You don’t need to shout at me,” she fires, and I pout. Then stop driving me fucking crazy.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “You make me crazy.” So fucking crazy. Crazy good. Crazy bad. Crazy sad. Crazy. “Where are you?” My knees give, and I slip down the wall to my arse, exhausted by my crazy. Her fault.

The front door opens.

“Here.”

I look up, finding Ava in the doorway wrapped in a towel. My God, just look at her. My heart twists and turns, yelling at me. I’m crazy in love too. At least I’m consistent and she owns all of my crazies.

She smiles lightly and joins me, sliding down the opposite wall, struggling to keep her towel in place. She’s naked under that towel. Beautifully naked. Easily accessible. My hand reaches for her knee and the moment our skin meets, there are tingles. Tingles everywhere. And heat. And sheer, unstoppable contentment. “I thought—”

“I’d run again,” she says, reading my mind and state. She knows, and I deem it a good thing. Perhaps now she appreciates the level of need in me. “I was in the shower,” she says softly, reassuringly, taking my hand in hers.

“Where are your clothes?” What do I care?

“In my wardrobe.”

My lips straighten, and I make a play for her hip, giving it a warning squeeze. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, lady.”

She squirms, laughing her apology, loosening the towel. I ease up on my torture and she sighs, relaxing. “Sally loved her flowers.”

“Did you love yours?”

“I did,” she says around her smile. “Thank you.”

They’re just flowers. I want to give her so much more, and I pray she’ll let me. I pray she’ll listen to my confessions and listen to her heart. She belongs with me. We both know it.

“My man!” Sam’s voice infiltrates our moment, and I look down the path to see him approaching.

Ava’s naked.

My eyes only.

I’m up in a heartbeat, working fast but carefully to ensure I keep her covered. The thought of another man’s eyes taking pleasure in what I adore seems wrong on so many levels. I can’t hack it. Friend or not, this woman I’m keeping to myself.

“Sam, don’t fucking move,” I bellow, darting through the door with Ava in my arms. He laughs, the fucker. He knows what I’m thinking. He knows how I feel. Jesse Ward is possessive? It’s unheard of. “I’ll rip their prying eyes out,” I grumble, taking the stairs fast.

I burst through the door of her bedroom and drop her to the bed. “Get dressed,” I order. “We’re going out.”

She looks startled for a moment. Then she crawls off the bed, minus one towel, and sashays across to her wardrobe. Fuck me, those legs. That arse. The skin of her back. “Where?”