Ur friend ok? he asked.

No. Yours?

No. Tho he looked like a man with a plan when he left today.

Hmm. If Brian had a plan to fix this whole awful mess, more power to him. The way he’d looked at Candace today, as if she were the only precious thing in his universe...it had almost brought tears to Macy’s eyes. She didn’t think anyone had ever looked at her that way. It had certainly done more to change Macy’s thinking about this whole situation than all of Candace’s crying and anger. She knew how emotional her friend could be. Now she’d seen the other side. Brian was in as much pain as Candace, if not more.

She’d always tolerated Candace’s parents pretty well. After witnessing that devastation today, she’d decided they needed to be slapped. And so did Jameson—but thankfully Brian had taken care of that, and now that he had Macy’s information, he was about to hit him and the Andrews family where it really hurt. Their money, their pride, their status in the community.

Macy kind of wished he could do it without dropping her name, but oh, well. She would expect the incredulous phone call from her mother any day now, since Sylvia Andrews was Jennifer Rodgers’s good friend. Though how her mother tolerated that woman, she had no idea.

I wasn’t sure about Brian at first, she admitted to Ghost, but I’m starting to change my mind.

He’s a good one. Don’t worry.

After a moment of intense debate with herself, she tapped back, What about you? Are you a good one?

He was a long time replying, and she wondered if she’d said something wrong...or if maybe he was just trying to formulate his reply. She was beginning to enjoy the idea that she’d flustered him when his message popped up.

I can be good. Or I can be as bad as you want me to be.

God, she bet he could. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly through her nostrils, realizing she’d been rubbing her thighs together to assuage the building ache between them.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted to f**k a guy this bad without going ahead and doing it.

So do it, she told herself. Just freaking do it, and get it over with. Where was the harm? Candace herself had been pressuring her to find someone. Where are you? she texted.

About to leave work.

I can be there in twenty minutes.

Then I’ll wait.

Twenty minutes. She threw her covers off and her feet hit the floor. She needed this. She’d been thrust into the middle of a scandal, she’d been a terrible friend, and while she was glad she’d fessed up, the guilt still weighed on her. A wild romp with Ghost wouldn’t take that burden from her, but it would damn sure help her blow off steam. It was only sex, and she couldn’t have picked a better no-strings kinda guy. That was for sure.

There was no need to fuss over how she dressed. It was a warm night, so she went for accessible. A mini-skirt, wedge sandals, a loose top. Maybe it all seemed presumptuous on her part, but she didn’t think she’d read his signals wrong. She left her hair straight and unstyled, anticipating whatever style she put in it would undoubtedly be demolished if the night went how she hoped.

Every time she thought about the night going like she hoped, though, every time she imagined being so close to him, invaded by him, her heart would lurch. She would have to pause to catch her breath, and the thought would cross her mind to dive back under the covers. Text him that she’d changed her mind, just so she could go on living in her safe little world.

Because she had no doubt her safe little world was about to be well and thoroughly rocked, and who knew if it would even be recognizable after he was done with her.

When Macy’s SUV pulled into the parking lot fifteen minutes after her text had arrived, Ghost glanced up at the ice-bright stars and thanked whoever in the hell was up there pulling for him. He’d fully expected her to change her mind.

When she slid out of her car and he caught a glimpse of those flawless thighs under the hem of her skirt, he thought maybe whoever was up there was intent upon killing him.

But what a way to go.

He stood gaping beside his car as she shut her door and strode toward him, her smile as bright as the moon. As she reached him, her faint vanilla scent drifted forward and teased his senses, so sweet he wanted to close his eyes and inhale. He managed to restrain himself. Just barely.

“Hey,” she said, when he obviously couldn’t divert his blood supply from his dick to his brain to form a coherent greeting.

“Damn,” he managed to choke out. “You look...” Fucking hot. Seemed too juvenile. This woman was...divine, and she deserved more than some compliment a horny ninth grader might toss at her. Keep it simple, right? “You’re beautiful, Macy.”

“Thank you,” she said, seeming genuinely flattered.

He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, feeling like said horny ninth grader in the presence of the prom queen. Remembering the ultimate outcome the last time he’d felt this way.

It hadn’t been pretty.

“I’m surprised you came,” he said.

“Really? Why?”

Why? Why? Did she really expect him to answer that? Look at her. Any guy with a brain ought to be shaking in his boots over the prospect of being shot down by her. “You weren’t too receptive the last time I asked,” he said in place of that idiotic thought.

“Oh. I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t making an excuse though, I really...I was going through some stuff. And then there was Candace...you know.”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m here.” She smiled, though it was fleeting. “Even if I probably shouldn’t be.”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“I haven’t been very honest with you.”

Of all the things that could’ve come out of her mouth right then, that was the last thing he’d expected to hear. Hell, neither of them had been all that up-front, had they? He damn sure hadn’t, and it didn’t take a genius to see she was hiding some pain herself.

Both of them guarding their hearts so closely. It was that mystery behind Macy’s hazel eyes—right now glinting at him in the shadows—that had him so intrigued.

And he had to be on guard right now, too. He shrugged off her statement. “For that matter, neither have I. Maybe that’s best, right?”

Her perfectly arched brows drew together. “You’re not even curious?”

“Do you have a husband at home?”

“What? No way.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No.”

He ticked off on his fingers. “Have four kids? Some deadly communicable disease? Really a man?”

“Oh my God! No.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Would it matter if I had kids?”

“Well, it would if you had four. Three’s my limit.”

“You are terrible.”

“I don’t try to hide it. Macy, look. Feel free not to share any deep, dark secrets with me if you don’t want to.” Then again, if she remained a mystery, he’d end up falling all over himself trying to solve it. Shit.

“Maybe I do want to share.”

“Then you would’ve told me before.”

She shook her head. “Not necessarily. Hey, will you just listen? You said you wanted to continue our earlier conversation, and this is the continuation. This is ‘later’.”