"What is he doing here?" James's voice is low. Dangerous.

Noah's eyes haven't left Jacob. "You spent the night here."

It's not a question. It's an accusation.

"It's not what you think---" I start.

"Isn't it?" Noah's hand clenches. The roses he dropped lie crushed on the floor. "You're in your pajamas. He's in your bed. What am I supposed to think?"

James moves forward. "Jacob. Out. Now."

Jacob scrambles to his feet. "James, I can explain---"

"I don't ...