It begins to crumble when her gaze turns sleepy, her lids lowering as she peers up at me, her hands stroking my thighs. God, she’s pretty, all flushed, her silky hair mussed and her lips soft and parted. My cock pulses in protest. He wants in. My mouth just wants to claim hers again.

“My hands are cold,” she says.

I cover them with my own, my hands so large that they completely engulf her fists. “Let’s get you home, honey.” My voice sounds rough and too thick.

“Okay. But I’m tired,” she says. “Carry me.”

At this point, I’m willing to carry her across the state if it means I get to fuck her. I scoop her up without another word.

She gives a little happy squeal, and her long legs kick the air as her arms strangle my neck.

“Easy,” I choke out as I carry her to my truck.

We’re halfway there when I see him. I freeze, my entire body seizing up. My knee-jerk reaction is one of fear, cold and tense. Rage follows on its heels. Rage that I’ve reacted in fear and from simply laying eyes upon him. Ivy lets out a sound of protest, and I realize that I’m holding her too tightly.

Ivy. Fucking. Hell. My fear returns. I don’t want her anywhere near Jonas.

I’m barely aware of setting Ivy down. She stands close to me as if she knows I need the support. I don’t, and yet my arm snakes around her waist and holds on.

Jonas leans against my truck, hands tucked in his pockets, his legs crossed at the ankle. And somehow he still manages to make the pose look threatening. Maybe it’s because I know he won’t hesitate to damage my truck if he thinks it will upset me. The fucker.

He’s enormous, the small gut he’d been sporting four years ago now a full barrel. But his arms are still built for brutality. Then again, every inch of Jonas has been crafted and forged for aggression. The bottom drops out of my stomach as our gazes clash. It’s been four years since I’ve seen my brother and still I feel sick just looking at him.

“About time you showed,” he says by way of greeting. “Fucking sick of hunting you down, Gravy.”

Asshole. “I wasn’t aware we had a date.”

He sneers at the word date, but his eyes ooze over Ivy. My grip on her tightens. She hasn’t said a word, but she’s clearly lost her buzz. Tense and alert next to me, her fingers slide along my back and then curl around the belt loop of my jeans. I want her away from here like I want my next breath, but her simple hold grounds me in a way I haven’t felt in years, if ever.

“I’m not discussing shit in front of your piece of ass here,” Jonas says.

My breath comes out in a rush. But I stay still. I’m good at locking it down in front of Jonas.

“Ivy isn’t going anywhere. So I guess you’re shit out of luck.”

Jonas smiles. I used to see that smile a lot. Right before he struck. And while every old fear in me is shouting to lower my eyes, or better yet, get the fuck out of here. I’m not that little boy anymore.

“You’re getting mouthy with freedom,” he says with a frown. When I don’t answer, he goes on. “You haven’t returned my texts.”

I don’t bother to tell him that I’ve blocked him. If he didn’t look like a burly version of my dad, I’d think Jonas was adopted because he got neither of our parents’ intelligence.

“What do you want, Jonas?” I ask in a bland voice. At my side, Ivy is quiet but close, her hand yet to leave my back.

“You’re two games away from being draft eligible. It’s time to make plans.”

“As touching as that sounds, I’ve got it covered.” Not that I think my brother has any interest in looking out for me.

His look of disdain tells me as much. “Yeah, well, my agent says you haven’t returned his calls either.”

Which is because I have no interest in signing with Jonas’s soulless bloodsucker. Not that he’s Jonas’s agent anymore. They’d parted ways when Jonas fucked up his career. But I’m guessing this is a way to get in good with his old cronies.

“Didn’t want to return them,” I say.

He scowls. “You’re an embarrassment to this family. You will call him.”

Suddenly, I’m just worn out. I hate this. Hate that my remaining blood relatives are nothing to me. “No, Jonas,” I say in a low voice, “I won’t. I’m signing with Mackenzie.”

“That weak-ass fucker?” Jonas barks out a laugh. “He doesn’t have the balls to get shit done.”

“Hey!” Mac snaps, stepping forward. “That’s my father you’re talking about, so shut your mouth.”

Inside I groan, cursing this whole situation. But my awareness goes on high alert as I sling an arm around Mac’s slim waist and haul her back against me. Every inch of her vibrates like she’s about to throw a punch, and she doesn’t know who she’s dealing with.

“Ignore him,” I murmur. Not because I disagree. But I know Jonas.

Jonas’s leer isn’t a shock. “I can’t believe this. He has his daughter riding cock to get clients? I underestimated the guy.”

Mac lurches in my arms, unable to get free but trying. “You disgusting fucker, you don’t know dick.”

That shuts him up. He pushes off my truck, rage in his eyes. “Watch your mouth, girlie.”

Blood races through my veins, and it feels ice cold. Not taking my eyes from him, I firmly set Mac behind me, telling her, “Don’t move.”