He still hadn’t left. Maybe he was hoping she would change her mind and run back to him. She wanted to. One night, if nothing else. Even if she left his apartment tomorrow morning and never saw his face again, would she really regret it more than taking home a complete stranger? It didn’t make any sense. He was someone she liked and respected and…well, she loved him.

Other people might struggle with admitting that particular emotion, but to her, it was quite a simple truth, and at the root of all the confusion. She loved him. Probably from the moment Michelle had introduced them almost two years ago, her heart had been his for the taking. The first time their eyes met, the helpless organ had lost its steady, sure rhythm. It had tripped over itself, and she’d been following suit ever since.

Her fingers tightened around the door handle before she realized she was gripping it.

See? Even your body knows what to do. Go back, you stupid girl. Go.

Brian’s taillights suddenly flared red and she jumped in her seat, thinking it was now or never, do or die…but he whipped out of the parking space and lurched forward so fast she could imagine he would run her down if she tried to stop him. Releasing the door handle, she collapsed in her seat and stared down at her hands while his truck zoomed past. She expected him to lay rubber when he hit the street, but he didn’t. He eased out and was gone.

Well, you did it. Are you proud? Now go home and drown in misery.

Goddamn it all to f**king hell.

So many things he wished he had or hadn’t done. He shouldn’t have let her chase him away. But since he had, he should have gone back in the bar and drank until he puked.

But he couldn’t. No, he was going to have to go back to his frigging apartment and jerk it so he didn’t end up with a case of blue balls to go in the books. Finding another girl to slake his frustration wasn’t an option. He would hate her for not being the one he wanted, the one he could’ve been bringing home tonight. And he wasn’t up for the hate f**k tonight.

Home was his destination, but as he passed his parlor—all darkened and closed up tight—he whipped his truck into the parking lot without really thinking about it. Home would depress the hell out of him right now. If he watched a movie, he would only wish she were there watching it with him. When he went to bed, he would only remember that she could’ve been there with him if he wasn’t such an ass**le.

There was stuff at work he could do to mellow him out, keep him occupied. Several designs were dancing through his thoughts even now, all of them involving splattered, stabbed or otherwise mutilated hearts. He’d inked his own onto Candace the day she’d come in here. There was really no denying it.

Entering the front door and closing and locking it behind him, he sighed with relief. This was his sanctuary. It was the very thing he’d dreamed of since he was eighteen years old: helping other people achieve their self-expression. And while he was still pretty much in Candace’s boat and in debt to his dad for helping him out, the old man was getting back every red cent. Thank God he didn’t really keep Brian under his boot heel like Candace’s folks did her.

He guessed he didn’t have a whole lot to complain about, when he stopped to consider it. They were all looking out for him, in their own obnoxious, meddlesome way.

Leaving the front lights off, he headed to the back and got a Monster out of the fridge in the break room. His employees left crazy messages to one another on the bulletin board in there, a little running joke. There was a new one for him: “B: You totally need to get laid.” It looked like Ghost had written it. He smirked. Apparently he really had been in a funk all night.

Grabbing a Post-It from the counter, he scribbled, “Talk to your sister, she’s not fulfilling my carnal needs of late,” and tacked it up amid all the other good-natured insults and name-calling.

Yeah, he often complained of being treated as if he was fourteen again, but he damn sure enjoyed acting like it. Something else there was really no sense in denying.

Except where Candace was concerned. She called forth a violent protectiveness in him he’d never known before, and it was kind of freaking him out. Oh, he’d always been capable of the alpha male bit, had never liked another guy sniffing around his turf, but this was…different. Those feeling had been about marking his territory. These were a deep, primal need to defend something precious to him.

He wanted to be with that girl. He wanted to take care of that girl. He wanted to give her whatever she wanted in life and beat the ever-loving shit out of anyone who ever hurt her. That included pretty much her entire family right now.

Shit. Ordinarily he would think there was no way she could have him so sprung after one night, but this had been ongoing for a while, hadn’t it. He just hadn’t realized, and he damn sure didn’t want to think about how long it had been or he might feel more wretched.

Once he left All That Remains’ “Two Weeks” playing so loud on the stereo system it drowned out most of his chaotic thoughts, he carried his energy drink to the drawing room, prepared to spend the night there until he exorcised some of this aggression. If he was here until the sun came up, so much the better. Maybe the harsh light of day would kill some of this dark passion he had roiling inside him. Drill some sense right between his eyes when he walked outside in the morning.

The process was just beginning to flow when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Damn. He’d forgotten to leave it in the truck, and he could have ignored it, but his damn traitor heart leapt. Leaning back and fishing it out of his jeans, he cursed when he saw the name on the display.

Michelle? It all just kept getting weirder.

For a split second, he wondered if it could be about Candace, but that didn’t make any sense, did it? How much did everyone know by now?

He flipped it open and raised it to his ear as he headed over to turn the music down. “Hello?”

Michelle’s voice was soft, lacking its usual confidence. “Hi.”

“Hey. Wow, it’s been a while.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m weird or anything. I was reminded of you today and thought I would check in on you. How are you?”

“I’m great. Parlor is running smoothly, and everything’s…great.” He ended on an awkward note, but he didn’t know what else to say. “How are you?”

“Oh, fine. School is kicking my ass, as usual, but I’m hanging in there.”

“That’s good.” They were both silent for a moment. “So…you were reminded of me, huh? How so?”

“I was having lunch with Deanne, Aunt Syl and Candace today. We were talking about tattoos. Made me remember when you gave me mine.” She gave a girlish giggle. Oh, damn, he remembered that too. It had been here, after hours, the night of their grand opening. After they’d christened this very room, so to speak. More specifically, the wall in this very room. “Of course, I think about it every time I look at them,” she said.

He frowned. Was she seeking information? Was this a set-up?

“Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.

It had to be.

He cleared his throat. It would’ve been so easy to take the easy way out and say there was no one, but for some reason it seemed very important that he not lie, not dismiss Candace just because things were rough right now. She deserved more from him than that. “Actually, there is someone I’m interested in.”