“This is when we are at our best.” He twists his fingers, and we both cry out on the cutting edge of an orgasm.

So close we can taste it.

“Sexual soulmates. We don’t need a relationship; we just need to fuck each other’s brains out.” He jerks his hand. “Take care of each other’s needs.”

My arousal fog evaporates, and my eyes snap open.

“What?” I push his hand away. “What do you mean?”

“Juliet.” He grabs my behind to drag me back over his cock. “Get on it.”

“I still want the same thing, Henley,” I snap. “Nothing has changed for me.”

He steps back from me, panting as he struggles for control. “What are you saying?”

“What are you saying?”

“We miss each other. We need to fuck,” he snaps.

I blink, shocked. “I don’t want to be your fuck buddy, Henley. I want to be in a relationship. I want you to love me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Here we go a-fucking-gain. Will you drop this bullshit?” he spits. “It’s never going to happen. Why would you want to ruin what we have? What we have is perfect.”

I take a step back from him. “Because I deserve better.”

He pants. His eyes are wild. “You said you missed me.”

“Because I’m in love with you,” I spit. “Because I know what we have is special. I know you feel the same. I can feel it. Do you think I can’t feel it?” My voice rises as I begin to lose control of my emotions.

“I can’t give you that, Juliet. I’m not fucking capable of it,” he fires back. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Can’t or won’t?” My eyes well with tears.

“If I could, I would.” His eyes are wild; his stance is crazy.

And there it is . . . spelled out in black and white.

“I want to be in a relationship, Henley. I want a man who is proud to call me his,” I whisper through tears. “I don’t want to be your booty call whose only currency is orgasms.”

He puts his weight onto his back foot. “Then move on.”

That’s it.

That is it. I am so over this self-centered fucking asshole.

“You know what?” I screw up my face in tears. “I’m going to. Tomorrow night I’m going on a date.”

“With him?” he snaps.

“Yes. With Joel.” I throw up my hands in surrender. Suddenly I want to hurt him the way he hurts me. “And guess what, Henley? I’m going to sleep with him, and I’m going to be the best damn fuck he ever had. Because Chloe is right: the only way to get over one man is to get under another. And I need to get the fuck over you . . . because all you do is think of yourself and hurt me.”

“Don’t you dare sleep with him,” he growls.

“You had your chance.” I shake my head in disgust. “Ha! You’ve had about a hundred chances, and you’ve blown them all.”

“Enough with the dramatics,” he spits angrily. “You belong with me.”

“Only on your terms. Guess what? I’m not some wimp who will take anything you give me.”

“You sure about that?” he sneers.

“Fuck you.” I turn and storm off.

“Don’t come crying back to me when he can’t get the job done,” he calls after me. “Nobody can make you come like I can.”

I hate that he’s right.

I storm up the alleyway, and with my ovaries screaming at me to go back and take whatever he is offering, I put my hand up for a cab.

One pulls up, and I get in and stare out the window.

Last chance.

Henley

I stand in the darkness. From my place at the upstairs front window, I can see it all.

It’s 7:00 p.m. on Saturday night, and he’s at her house.

And after the worst twenty-four hours in history, I don’t know why the fuck I need to see this. It’s like salt in the wound, but I can’t look away.

Juliet’s front door opens, and she walks out. She’s wearing a tight black dress and high heels. Her hair is up, and she’s laughing and talking to him.

No.

He opens the car door for her. She says something, and then he leans in and kisses her.

My fists clench at my sides; murder crosses my mind.

I turn, and I punch the wall as hard as I can. The drywall explodes under the impact, and then next thing I know I’m out in the street, marching toward them.

“What are you doing?” Joel stammers, wide eyed.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” I warn him.

I open the passenger-side car door where Juliet is sitting. “Get the fuck out of the car. Now.”

Chapter 22

Juliet

I exhale heavily as I stare out of the car at the maniac. How did I know this was coming?

Stay calm.

“Henley,” I sigh.

“We need to talk.” His chest is rising and falls as he struggles for control.

“It’s too late.”

“No, it’s not,” he fires back.

“Do not dare throw a childish tantrum, Henley. I’m warning you right now,” I yell. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“But . . .” His face falls. “We have everything to talk about.” His voice softens, and I know that somehow the gentle version of Henley James’s personality has shown up.

The one I can’t resist.

“Please . . .” His eyes search mine.

“Henley . . .” I drag my hand through my hair. Damn it. He doesn’t make anything easy, does he? “Now is not the time.”

“Now is the only time.” He stands in front of my open car door so that we can’t drive away. “Please. Can we just talk about this?”

I exhale heavily.

“What’s he doing?” Joel says, unimpressed, from behind the wheel.

“Just . . .” I sigh. What do I even do here? This is so fucking awkward for Joel.

“Last night . . . I don’t know why I say the things I do,” he stammers in a panic. “I don’t mean them. I’m sorry.”

Fuck’s sake. He’s had all day to apologize, and he chooses now to do it?

Of course he does.

I put my hands over my eyes. “Henley,” I snap. “Honestly . . . you’re so infuriating. I am going on a date, and I am not talking to you about this.” I gesture to the road. “Just drive, Joel.”

“Last night . . . you said you loved me . . . Is that still true?” he stammers.

Joel’s eyes flick to me in question. “You love him?”

Fuck.

I close my eyes, ashamed of myself. “It’s . . . complicated.”