Nate shrugs. “Jamaal doesn’t trust people. He’s worried that you’re taking advantage of me at an emotionally vulnerable time.”

“How does he know I’m emotionally vulnerable?”

“Not you. Me.” He sighs and crosses to me.

&nbs

p; “What happened?”

He shrugs. “My father died a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh my God.” I feel like an inconsiderate bitch. Not to mention self-centered. I mean, he’s a celebrity, so it’s probably all over the news, but I had no idea. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. I’m fine.”

Before I can say more, he’s gathering me against his chest and burying his nose in my hair.

I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. Because I’ve lost a father too, and I understand that grief isn’t always simple. Then something clicks in my head and I pull back.

“But you’ve been in the Midwest the last two weeks.”

“I have. Did you get enough sleep on the plane, or do you want to take a nap?” He grins as if he didn’t just change the subject from the death of his father. “I’ll join you if you’d like some company in bed.”

I don’t push it. It’s not my business, and he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.

Yawning, I stretch my arms above my head. “Now that you mention it, I could use a nap.”

His hands find their way under my shirt. “Fantastic. I did mention my no-clothes-in-bed rule, didn’t I?”

His hands have found the hook on my bra when we hear a knock at the door and we both freeze.

“Yes?” Nate calls.

“He asked her to marry him,” Janelle says, her voice small. “He just called me to let me know she said yes. Does he really think this is what I need right now?”

Nate squeezes his eyes shut and curses under his breath.

“It’s okay,” I promise. “Go be with your sister. She needs you. I could use a shower anyway.”

By the look on his face, I might as well have told him I was going to torture his puppy. “Fine, but tonight I’m getting you naked and making you come so hard you can’t remember your own name.”

“TELL ME about this house,” she whispers as she settles against me in bed.

It took me way too long to get her here tonight. It was like Janelle was on a mission to be the world’s biggest cock blocker. “What do you want to know?”

“It’s not you, and you don’t like most of it. You could live anywhere, buy any house you want, but you live here. Why?”

I thread my fingers through her hair, grateful for the darkness. “My father bought it for me. We weren’t very close, and the fact that he thought I’d like this place proves that you know me better after a couple of days than my father ever did.” I sigh. “But I can’t bring myself to sell it or remodel.”

“You miss him, don’t you?”

My jaw hardens. “My father was an asshole. It’s hard to miss an asshole.”

She brings her hand to my face. “Just because we have a difficult relationship with someone doesn’t mean we grieve them any less when they go.”

My chest tightens. Because that’s exactly what my stepmother didn’t understand. She told Elle and me that we weren’t welcome at the funeral. She didn’t understand that we needed closure as much as the children he’d given his time and attention to. Maybe more.

“Are you in a hurry to get home?” Maybe it’s a change of subject or maybe it’s very much on subject. Because I’ve had a shitty fucking month with Vivian’s wedding—her happy little family—and my father’s death. And Hanna’s smile, the way she needs to be desired like no woman I’ve ever known. She makes me feel needed and necessary for the first time in too damn long.

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