“I don’t know how to talk about this with you,” he said.

“Why?” I kept my tone light. “I thought we were partners.”

He sat up, scooting back in the bed, so I rested my head on the comforter covering his thigh. His hand slipped into my hair. “She pretended she wanted me to spank her.”

I hesitated. “Pretended?”

“It was a tactic. When she realized we weren’t going to be more, she changed her story.” His fingers toyed with my hair, absently combing through it, even as his tone changed to a frustrated one. “She used what I’d done against me, and took all my options away. That’s why I came crawling back to Chicago.”

Well. This explained his worried expression when I’d come out of the bathroom. He’d been concerned I was freaking out.

The rule was never to ask a question you didn’t already know the answer to, but I did it anyway, my heart lodged in my throat. This wasn’t violating our agreement, either. It only specified we couldn’t talk about feelings for each other. “Did you love her?”

I shouldn’t care if he had, but logic didn’t work when it came to him.

His answer was immediate. “No.”

Tightness eased in my chest. Damn, that had been one dangerous fucking question. We’d been together ten months, and not once had Kyle said, “I love you.” I had convinced myself that was okay. Even though he didn’t say it, he’d shown it to me in plenty of other ways. I’d repeated the mantra relentlessly to myself how actions spoke louder than words.

So, if he’d said yes, he’d fallen in love with this Sharon chick, I might have broken down in tears. Thank God.

Skip this line of questioning, Ruby. “Do you miss it? New York?”

“Not really. Big cities are a lot alike. It wasn’t that different from Chicago.” He looked relieved I wasn’t going to press him further about Sharon. “It’s crowded. Filled with rude people. Lonely.”

His voice tightened on the last word. I pushed upright, bringing my eyes level with his. Once again, he seemed upset with what he’d revealed. Was this why he asked me to stay? Was Kyle lonely?

“You had plenty of friends at Randhurst. You didn’t keep in touch with any of them? I think Clarissa and Justin live here in River North.”

His expression said I was missing the obvious. The realization took shape. Oh, no.

“I got all of our friends in the divorce.” It was meant to be a joke, but it fell flat.

“You did.” He said it casually and free of blame, but wasn’t it mine? When word got out to our circle of friends what had happened, they’d rallied behind me.

I felt like dirt. “I’m sorry.”

“How are they?” he asked. “Did Greg ever grow a pair and break up with . . . what was her name?”

“Christina, and sort of. He got another girl pregnant.”

“No shit, really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know when he found time to cheat on Christina with how controlling she was. Not that I condone that sort of thing, but that girl was a fucking psycho.”

Kyle chuckled. “Truth. And . . . what about Leslie?”

“Oh, she’s a lesbian now.”

His eyes went enormous. “Really?”

“No, not r

eally.” I laughed. “Actually, I have no idea what she’s up to now. After that night, we didn’t talk much, and I guess she wasn’t doing well in school, because she didn’t come back the following year.”

“Oh.” He gazed at me, and his eyes seemed to sharpen with curiosity. “We never talked about that night.”

My tone was playful sarcasm. “But we’re such great communicators.”

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