She wanted to lose herself.

But that’s exactly why she couldn’t. There was no way she would give someone else that power again—the ability to define if her life was happy or sad. She was in charge of her happiness now, and she would be in charge of it when she got on a plane to California in a few weeks. She’d prove to herself she could survive all on her own when she walked away from Jace this time. Pass the ultimate test and stop worrying that one emotional slip-up would send her spiraling back into dangerous depression. Maybe then she could go forward and live her life without the white knuckles.

Evan turned off the last of the lights in the studio, too tired to pack up the bedding and equipment. She’d take care of it tomorrow. She headed back toward her office in the front. Finn, who’d parked himself in her chair, looked up and smiled. “I’ve got all the shots loaded onto the computer.”

She sat on the corner of the desk. “And?”

“They’re almost sexy enough to make me think straight thoughts. We did good.” He clicked a few buttons to send the pictures to a flash drive. “They’ll still need some touch-up, but if that stick-in-the-mud boyfriend of hers doesn’t jump her bones after this, then he’s just after her for her free cupcakes.”

“Or maybe he plays for your team,” Evan teased.

Finn’s expression turned sardonic. “If that were the case, he would’ve checked out my ass when he stopped in here last week, not yours.”

Evan cringed and instinctively glanced at the door Callie had gone through to go out on her date. “Did he really?”

“No doubt. Ogled actually.” He rose from the chair and stretched. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. Men are pigs, and that skirt you were wearing that day was kind of daring a guy to look.”

She scoffed, affronted. “I had just changed. I was on my way out to go . . . dancing.”

Well, not really dancing, per se. Not vertically at least. Jace and Andre had sent over a box with a brand-new outfit and a note to leave the panties at home. The V-neck blouse, snug little leather skirt, and matching boots had definitely been a step out of her comfort zone. But driving over to their place, knowing she was bare beneath, had gotten her heart racing and her thighs damp by the time she’d stepped out of her car. The three of them had barely made it out of the foyer before the guys had bent her over the back of the couch, skirt shoved around her hips.

A little flutter of heat tickled her sex at the memory. Finn’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his shaggy bangs. “Must’ve been some night out. You’ve gone all blushy.”

She automatically lifted her hands to her cheeks, feeling the burn beneath her fingertips. “What? No. I—I’m a little embarrassed that Brandon checked me out. Cal’s really gone on him. I want it to work out for her.”

“I think it’s fine. He’s a little stiff, but it seems like the guy is treating her well.” Finn lifted the flash drive. “Mind if I work on some of these at home? If you don’t like my edits, the originals are still on your hard drive.”

“Sure. Just make sure to guard the files. The pictures are private. No working on it with your classmates or anything.”

He grinned and tucked the drive into his pocket. “No worries. I’ll guard them with my life.”

A sharp rapping on the main door made them both jump. Evan looked toward the front, but she’d closed the blinds on the front door when Callie had left and couldn’t see who was on the other side. Weird. No one would be looking for a photographer at eight at night. It was probably the homeless guy on the corner wanting a bathroom. Or maybe Cal had forgotten something. “Let me go see what that’s about.”

Finn frowned. “If you don’t recognize whoever it is, don’t open the door. Callie said one of the shops down the street was robbed at gunpoint a few weeks ago.”

She nodded, her stomach tightening a bit. “I’m just going to take a peek. I won’t let anyone in. You stay by the phone in case we need to call the police.”

She made her way over to the door and discreetly lifted one slat of the blinds. Familiar chocolate-brown eyes met hers, and her shoulders sagged in relief. Unlatching the dead bolt, she called over her shoulder, “It’s fine, Finn. It’s a friend of mine.”

She pulled open the door and had to swallow down her gasp. Andre. In full uniform. Holy mother of God. Black button-up shirt stretched broad across his chest, badge gleaming in the streetlight, pants that fit him in all the best places. But her body’s lightning-fast response was thwarted when she took in the worn expression on his face. She lifted her hand, planning to reach out and touch his cheek, ask him what was wrong, but she remembered they weren’t alone. She lowered her arm quickly.

“Hey, bella.”

“Hey.” She glanced over her shoulder at Finn, who’d stepped away from the office area and into the main part of the gallery. “Finn, this is my friend Andre.”

Andre gave a cursory nod to Finn. “Nice to meet you.” Then he looked back to Evan. “Am I catching you at a bad time? I didn’t realize you’d still be working.”

“No, we just wrapped up a little while ago. Both of us were about to leave.” She sensed a disquiet coming from Andre, something unruffled in his normally smooth exterior. “Finn, why don’t you go ahead and leave? I’ll finish locking up, and Andre will make sure I get to my car safely.”

Finn eyed Andre, wariness in his hazel eyes. “You sure?”

She offered him a bright smile, one that hopefully didn’t say get the hell out of here please, which is what she’d been tempted to say. “Yes. Go. I’ve already worked you into the ground tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Evan waited until she made sure Finn had driven away on his motorcycle without getting mugged, then dead-bolted the door and turned to Andre, who had sank into one of the club chairs in the waiting area she had near the door. “What’s going on?”

“Jace said you weren’t going to be able to come by tonight. And I just . . . needed to see you.”

“My session ran late and I told Daniel I’d be home by ten.” She squatted down in front of him, placing her hands on his knees. “Is everything okay?”

He leaned forward and touched her hair with gentle reverence as if making sure she was really there at his feet and not a mirage. She hadn’t seen him in a few days and, since then, bags had taken root under his normally sparkling eyes. “I just needed to see something good after the shift I had.”

The simple sentiment tugged at her. She leaned her face into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against her cheek and adjusted from a squat to a sitting kneel. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Just working a pretty gruesome case with the detectives. It’s what I signed up for. But it never gets easy seeing innocent people die,” he said, the words as tired sounding as he looked. “I can’t get the images of the crime scene out of my head tonight.”

“Oh, honey.”

He rubbed away the crease in her brow. “And look at me, laying this macabre shit on you. I’m sorry.” He glanced around at her studio. “I shouldn’t have even come here. I know this is your job. If I had known your employee was still here, I would’ve never—”

“Shh . . .” She laid her hand over his. “It’s fine. He thinks you’re my friend. No harm done.”

The corner of his mouth hitched a bit. “Am I your friend?”

She ducked her head. “I’d like to think so.”

“Then why does it always feel like more with you, bella? Why when I had a shitty day are you the first person I wanted to see?”

Her breath hitched, the naked honesty in his voice catching her off guard. He hadn’t said it in that patented Andre seduction tone, but in a way that made her believe he really was curious about her answer. She glanced up at him, her shields flying up in defense. “Because you had a bad day and wanted to get laid.”

Hurt descended over his features, making her immediately regret her glib remark.

“You know, you and Jace are way too much alike sometimes.” He shifted forward in the chair. “Come on. Do what you need to do and lock up. I’ll walk you out so you can get home to Daniel.”

“Wait.” She put a hand on his thigh and pushed him down before he could stand up fully. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean that. It’s just . . . I can’t be that person. For you or for Jace. In a month, if you have a bad day, I’m not going to be here. We can’t pretend like this is something more than it is.”

“And you can’t go on pretending that it’s not,” he said softly.

She looked down, her eyes stinging. “Won’t change the outcome.”

He slipped a finger beneath her chin, tilting her face toward him. “So be it. But at least be honest when you’re with us. Trust us with the real you. Not some edited version. Do you think you can do that?”

She swallowed hard, the tempting idea sending cold fear through her. “I can try. But this scares the shit out of me.”

His hands cupped her face as he leaned down until his mouth was just a breath away from hers. “Join the club, bella.”

His lips met hers in an unhurried tenderness, one that belied the fierce grip he locked around her hair. She adjusted her legs beneath her so she wouldn’t lose her balance. His tongue stroked hers, his taste and scent filling her senses and lulling her down from fear to something far more pleasant. Her fingers gripped his thighs, the durable fabric of his uniform pants making a scratching sound beneath her nails. She smiled against his mouth.

He pulled back, amusement replacing some of the sadness that had been there when he’d first walked in. “You little harlot. The uniform’s doing it for you, isn’t it?”

Her grin turned sheepish. “Only because you’re underneath it. But I did have the urge to break the law as soon as I saw you standing there.”

He spread his legs, bringing the erection pressing against the front of his pants into view, and gave her a look that had her toes curling. “I don’t know if you want to test me tonight, bella. After the day I’ve had, I’ve got a lot of frustration to work out. You might get more discipline than you bargained for. Especially after calling me ‘just a friend.’”

She bit her lip, the thrill of the game usurping the lingering nerves about Andre’s admission of having feelings for her. “I’ll take whatever you think is fair, sir.”

He cocked his head toward the front of the gallery. “Those blinds leave quite a gap on each side. You have some place more private? Or do you want anyone passing by on the street to know how much you like to get your ass whipped by your friend?”

Her lips parted, the combination of his authoritative demeanor and his uniform making heat surge between her legs. “I, uh, still have a bed set up in the back for the photo shoot I just finished.”

He gave her an arch look. “A bed for a photo shoot? You taking naughty pictures, Ms. Kennedy?”

“I’d like to take some of you.”

He stood, pulling her to her feet with him. “Only if you’re in them with me.”

Andre stretched out on the air mattress Evan had set up for the earlier photo shoot and kept his gaze glued to her every move. He’d taken off his gun belt and radio, but otherwise had kept his uniform on. No doubt for her benefit. She hadn’t thought he was serious about the photos, but when they’d stepped into the room, he’d given her explicit instructions.

She snapped a test shot, the flash filling the room. She hadn’t turned on any of the main lights, only one small one. But even with the subtle lighting, Andre looked downright edible in her preview screen. “I should just stay behind the camera. You’re an inspiring subject.”