I should run, get the hell out of here. But I don’t. The swirls in his eyes, normally flecked in gold, have darkened. Seconds pass in silence. I’m frozen while he continues to fume.

A moment later, I ask “Slade?”

Taking a risk and reaching out my hand, I touch his arm. Suddenly, his eyes soften. He opens and shuts his mouth, eyes darting around our small balcony before settling on me. He’s sad and angry and something else I just can’t name.

He retakes his seat, and I let out the breath I was holding. Whatever gripped him a moment ago has passed.

Slade has a dark side with a temper. I know it, and my body knows it, too. The night of the wedding, he seemed to be okay. But something happened, turning the fun and cool man I’d thought I knew into someone else.

I swallow, my mouth feeling dry as he lights up another cigarette, blowing smoke into the night.

“I scared you.” His eyes flit back over to my face, assessing me.

My heart pounds because, yes, I’m scared as hell. Still, I don’t want to back down. Not from the man I know, who is filled with so much decency and kindness.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” My voice shakes, and yet I sit taller.

Smoky white wisps billow from his mouth as he nods his head. “You need to hear me now. I’m not the man you think I am. I’m not a savior. I’ve done some horrific shit, and now, here I am, living my life. You want to meet a good man, so you can get married, start a family? I can set you up. But it’s not me. I didn’t call you after the wedding because it would have been for nothing. You’re a great girl, but I’ll never be able to give you the white picket fence.”

A pregnant pause wedges itself between us.

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Say you’ll stay away. We had a few fun times, but we’re not suited for anything more. I need to know you understand.” He turns his head to mine, eyes blazing. “I see the way you look at me, like you’re dying to fuck and then meet my mom for dinner. You’ve got to stop that. Seeing as you’re Eve’s best friend, the last thing I need to do is screw around with you and piss her and Vincent off. So, do us both a favor and just back up.” He casually exhales, as though he didn’t just knife me with his words.

I open and close my mouth in shock and hurt as heat rises into my face. Men see me as hot. They want my body, but they never want me. I thought maybe Slade was different, figuring we had a connection that went further than mere attraction. I was wrong. Tears well up in my eyes. I’m not asking for yachts and travel and fancy dinners. I just want someone who’ll open the covers in our bed when our kids come in the middle of the night. Someone to know and love the real me. I’m sick and tired of all the phony bullshit that surrounds me. But something about me magnetizes the wrong men. Something about me says, I’m good for one thing—and it isn’t talking.