She slouches against the window, her body going limp in surrender. “Why?” she asks, so soft I almost miss it.

I look up at her as I pull off her one boot, then the other. My eyes search her face before I finally admit, “Why did I spend my entire morning putting in a door for a girl I’m not supposed to care about? Why do I do everything?” I drop my gaze to her legs. “It’s you, Tessa. Nobody else would’ve made me stop.”

My eyes pinch shut for a moment before I toss her socks to the floor.

Smart. Admit you’re still hard up on her. Really smart.

“You p…put in a new d…door for me?”

“Yeah. Your key is with that dickhead manager.” I refocus and unbutton her jeans, sliding them off and discarding them with the rest of her clothing. I’m able to wrap the towel around her twice as I shift closer, pulling her up so she’s sitting next to me.

I push her hair out of her face, feeling her lean into my touch, and I suddenly don’t want to drop my hand.

Her eyes, full of unshed tears, draw me in, and slide me even closer to her until she’s right up against me. I don’t fight the commanding need in me that wants to be with her right now. I don’t block it out with memories of our past. I let myself indulge in this. In her.

“Hey,” I whisper, afraid if I speak any louder, she’ll pull away from me. “What is it? Are you still cold?”

“Why her, Luke? Why does she g…get you like that?” she asks, blinking and sending the tears down her face as the quiver in her jaw seems to settle.

I stare, confused, shifting my body so I’m looking at her straight on. “What are you talking about? Why does who get me?”

“What all do you give her? Everything? Does she even have to ask for it?”

Maybe she’s actually in shock right now, because she sure as hell isn’t making any sense.

I lift her chin that’s dropped down, meeting her eyes. “Tessa, I don’t…”

Her hands spring out from underneath the towel and grab the bottom of my shirt, lifting it up to mid-chest. “Does she get this?” Her finger grazes the name on the side of my ribcage. “Does she? Did you tell her who this is?” she asks, her voice breaking as she pushes against me, separating the connection we just had. She takes in a loud breath before yelling, “I wanted this! I had you for three months and I begged you! I fucking begged you, Luke! And she gets it? Why? Why, goddamn it? I gave you everything! I never held back with you and I got nothing.” Her movements slow, the force of her hands weakening as her sobs fill the inside of the truck.

I grab her shoulders and push her back so I can see her. “Who? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Jolene,” she cries. “You slept with me last night and you have a girlfriend? And you tell her shit about me? Fuck you! I hate you! I fucking hate you.”

She tries to get out of my grip but I hold her in place, pulling her closer as her hands fist my T-shirt. “Goddamn it! Stop fighting me!” She squirms more and I pin her against me, wrapping my arms around her body. “Calm the fuck down a minute. Jesus Christ. She’s my neighbor, Tessa. What, did you go over my house or something? Is that where you’re coming from?”

She nods.

“She’s not…” I pause, taking in her guarded expression. Like she’s actually afraid of my answer. “Why do you care who she is? You ended us. You’re the fucking reason why I hooked up with her in the first place.”

“So you are sleeping with her. You fucking dick!” she grits out, and the entitled look on her face, like I owe her this information and so much more, causes me to break.

All the anger I’ve reserved for this woman boils to the surface, and I’m suddenly not concerned with keeping her fucking warm anymore. I don’t care that she looks shattered, on the verge of more tears and struggling to keep herself from falling apart completely.

I drop my head, getting as close as I can get to her face without touching her. Her eyes go wide as she stops breathing, and I feel the resistance leave her body as she practically melts against me.

“I’m not sleeping with her. I fucked her. Once. And it was empty. Just like all the other pussy I’ve had the past year. I don’t feel anything when I’m with them. I don’t even see them. I see you. I taste you. And when they ask me who Tessa is, because that’s the only name I’m saying in their ear, you wanna know what I tell them?”

She sniffs loudly and her lip trembles, but she doesn’t answer. And I don’t wait for her to, either.

I lean closer, brushing my nose against her cheek and up to her temple. “I tell them she’s the worst fucking thing that ever happened to me, and I can’t let her go.”

I lose all control, all reserve, and crash my lips against hers, moaning the second I feel her skin. She whimpers through a gasp, but she doesn’t fight it. Her head tilts with the guidance of my hand and she parts her lips with a sigh. I run my tongue along her lip, dipping into her mouth and tasting—no, more than that—fucking devouring her like it’s been longer than a year. Like I’ve never had this. Her hands slip underneath my shirt, teasing my skin as I shift her into my lap.

She breaks away, panting, her lips pink and swollen. “Luke…”

“I’m kissing you, Tessa. Don’t tell me not to,” I say against her mouth before pressing my lips along her jaw.

Her throaty laugh vibrates against me as I taste the skin of her neck.

“We’re on the side of the road. Actually, not even on the side. You’re kinda blocking half of it.”

“Don’t care.”

“We could get hit.”

“Don’t care,” I repeat, opening up her towel so it falls around her waist. My eyes take in the sight of her, and I’m reminded that this, fuck me, this is why I haven’t been able to move on. The delicate rise of her chest. Her skin, flushed and unmarked, such a contrast to mine. Not that she wouldn’t look damn sexy with some ink. I trail my finger down her cleavage, dropping my head and licking along her collarbone. Her fingers curl around my neck as I lift her up, burying my face in her chest.

I shift us so my back is against the seat and she’s straddling my waist. The towel is discarded, along with her bra, and she scratches along my scalp the second my tongue slides over her nipple. She whimpers when I bite down, and I smile against her skin, brushing my nose against her other breast.

“Luke,” she says, breathlessly, sliding her hands down to my shoulders and fisting the material of my shirt.

I move, allowing her to pull my shirt over my head. Then her lips are on me, frantic, greedy, and tasting as much of my skin as she can before settling over the tattoo on my chest. I look down, watching as she traces over the letter with her tongue, catching the smirk on the corner of her lips before they press against me.

“Fuck,” I groan as she palms my cock.

I fist the material of her panties and pull, her gasp mixing with the loud rip I create.

“Put your weight on your knees,” I order as I pop the button on my jeans. She hovers over me, and I slide my pants and boxers down before grabbing her waist with one hand and the base of my cock with the other. I rub the head against her clit, sliding into her wetness.