I still thought she was only using me instead of going out to the local bar to work out her issues or whatever the hell it was that she’d been doing with those guys. And I was fine with that. It was going to hurt like a bitch at the end of the summer when all of this ended, but at least I’d have those memories to hold on to.

Her soft and smooth skin. How she watched me when I touched her. The excitement in her eyes when I took control. How she thrilled at taking it back. Watching her shudder when she came. The way her tits were perfectly round and full in my hands.

She’d have no clue I was thinking or feeling any of this, and it would remain that way. She probably figured this was what I did with all the girls I’d been with. Except she’d be so wrong.

I didn’t savor or revere those girls or even remember some of their names. But I didn’t want to give Rachel the impression that I liked being with her too much—she might pull away if she knew. I needed to act natural and confident like I always had around the opposite sex.

So when this super hot chick headed toward me at the cashier’s counter, I gave her a good look up and down. I tried to push the image of Rachel far away. “What can I do for you?”

“Lots of things.” She hesitated a moment while allowing her gaze to roll over me. “But first I need to cash these in.”

She handed me a pile of ten-dollar chips through the Plexiglas window.

“Been playing some roulette?”

“Yep, been playing lots of games.” She was full-on flirting with me now. And I was all for getting my mind off Rachel, until I looked over her shoulder and saw Miles heading straight to the bar. He looked like he was alone, and I wondered what in the fuck he was doing here.

He stopped briefly to talk to Shane, who was on security duty tonight. Shane met my gaze across a row of Lucky Seven slot machines and gave me a firm nod.

“Is everything okay?” the blond in front of me asked.

“Everything’s cool. Sorry about that.” I handed her the cash and turned to break open a new stack of one-dollar bills, essentially giving her the message that our little flirting session was over. She huffed before walking away, and I blew out a breath of my own.

Shane strode toward me and stuck his head in the window before the next customer could step up. “Rachel’s meeting Miles at the bar tonight.”

I clenched a row of hundred-dollar chips as my entire body tensed.

“What the fuck for?”

“Calm down, big brother,” he said quiet enough for only me to hear. “She told Dakota that if she was going to meet him again, it would be in a public place close to where her friends were.”

My shoulders instantly unwound. She wanted the security of her friends in case things went south fast.

I raised an eyebrow. “And how is it that you know this when I live with the girl?”

Shane looked momentarily guilty and then shrugged. “Just ran into Dakota. She told me to look out for Rachel. My shift’s over soon anyway.”

“Yeah, mine, too,” I said, looking at the giant clock behind me. “Meet you in the bar in a few.”

After he moved away, I called up the next customer, an older gentleman with some five-hundred-dollar chips. Man, the amount of money that filtered through this place was mind-boggling. I made sure to concentrate on my task instead of on the douche bag at the bar. I didn’t want to count the bills wrong or make any other stupid mistakes that would get back to my father. He’d hand me my ass on a silver platter.

In between customers, I saw Rachel enter the bar, practically taking all the air in the room with her. I’d rarely seen her dressed up and—goddamn—certainly never in a sexy-ass dress and fuck-me-now heels. My stomach clenched painfully knowing she’d worn that outfit for him. But could I blame her? Who wouldn’t want to look her best when meeting up with an ex? Unless it was an ex you gave two shits about getting back together with.

Fuck, was that what this was about? Was she hoping for reconciliation? And how about Miles?

And that’s when I saw her—this blond chick with bright-red lipstick sitting at the roulette table not far from the bar. Miles made eye contact with her a couple of times as if he knew her.

Had he brought along a date for his meeting with Rachel? What a stupid-ass motherfucker. Sure, I was relieved that he probably had no intention of getting back together with Rachel, but my protective instinct had now kicked in full force.

Rachel had taken a seat across from Miles, and I could see only the back of her head and her profile when she turned her face to briefly look around. Was she searching for her friends? I noticed how she clenched her fists and bit down on her lip, and damn, I hated that Miles made her so apprehensive.

I could barely keep my eyes on the customers, but I forced myself to look down at my cash drawer. As soon as there was a lull in the line, my gaze returned to them.

At one point, Miles reached across the table as if to comfort her, but Rachel moved her hand beneath the table and kept her body stiff and upright. I could see the tension rolling off of her as Miles kept talking, making his point with his fingers, and then finally letting his head drop into his hands.

When his head was down, I saw her swipe at the corner of her eye, like she was afraid he’d noticed that she’d been moved to tears. She was trying to be so strong in front of him, and I badly wanted to punch the shit out of him like I’d done that day after the accident.

But I needed to remind myself that this talk between them was necessary for resolution. Just like it was essential for me to see how emotionally unavailable she continued to be. How much leftover baggage she still had with this guy.

Besides, she only liked that I got her off.

Nothing more, nothing less.

But maybe after this meet-up with Miles, Rachel would finally be able to shake the influence he continued to have over her. It was the same power she held over me. The power to destroy me with one word. One look.

Maybe there was that one person who could forever haunt you. For her, it would be Miles. And for me, it would be Rachel. But there was no way I was turning back now, because the reality of having Rachel’s body in my arms was so much better than the fucking fantasy of having her heart.

So I needed to keep up appearances. Continue being the reckless dude who messed around with girls. And I’d be that for her for as long as she needed me to be.

Even if it broke me.

Chapter Twenty Rachel

“We were talking about our future, thinking about colleges, and I was wondering whether we’d really last, you know?” Miles said. I was having trouble concentrating on his actual words. I was too busy trying to remember what it had been like between us. What it had really been like. On the inside. In my gut.

Had I been happy? Had I felt whole when I was with him? Hadn’t I lain awake at night wondering when I’d finally get a backbone and become the person I was supposed to be?

I remembered admiring Dakota and Kai in those days. Not because they came from a close family. Not because they were good-looking and had loads of money.

But because both were so confident and self-assured. Even when Kai was fucking up and getting in trouble, he did it with finesse. Like he knew exactly what he was getting himself into and could remain in control. I wanted that self-possessed certainty. That poised surety. I was like some bumbling fool next to the two of them.

I got why we hung out. In the privacy of my own circle of friends, I could be funny, cocky even. But get me in front of a group of guys and I became a wallflower. And if that’s what attracted Miles to me in the first place, it was kind of pathetic. He’d once told me he’d been used to girls throwing themselves at him, and it had been refreshing being with someone like me.

Someone like me. Those words now rang true in my head.

“I mean”—Miles was still talking, and I flicked my eyes back to him—“in the end, I couldn’t see us married or anything, Rachel. And I know I gave you that ring. But . . . God, that was so stupid of me. I was confused . . . and again, feeling guilty.”

I shook my head numbly. I didn’t want him to see how much his revelation was affecting me. I didn’t want the tears that were burning the back of my throat to spill down my cheeks.

“You relied on me for a lot of things.” I gave an imperceptible nod, agreeing with him in my own way. “And . . . and I let you. You never really stood up for yourself. You became different from the girl I was first attracted to.”

I had trouble dispelling the oxygen from my lungs. I knew exactly the girl he was referring to, but I asked him anyway. “And what girl was that?”

“You were gutsy and sarcastic and seemed to have so much confidence—at least in front of your friends,” he said, and I could only agree with that. Because he was right. I had been mostly invisible to boys when next to my very beautiful best friend, and that had been fine by me. When it came to guys, I hadn’t known how to act.

Except with Kai. When he had been with his friends, I would freeze up, sure. When he’d pull me into his chest, mess up my hair, and treat me like a kid, I’d be embarrassed. But in private, when I’d spend weekends at their house, sleeping over in my best friend’s room, we’d had a blast together. We would stay up late watching movies, playing video games, sneaking into their parents’ liquor and getting tipsy.

When Kai would come home late from dates with girls, his hair mussed, his face shiny from lip-gloss, I would be intrigued. I’d wonder exactly what he’d done with those girls.

And here Miles was talking negatively about the same girl who Kai had warned me I’d become in that relationship. I threw a look over my shoulder to see if he was anywhere around. I could’ve used the distraction right then.

“Rachel?” I brought my attention back to Miles. “I’m sorry if this is hard to hear.”

“It’s not,” I said, clamping down my jaw. “I already figured all of it out myself.”

I purposely made my voice sound harsh. No way was he going to have control over my emotions again. “So go on. Say whatever else you need to say.”

Sadness filtered through his eyes before he continued. I found it hard not to look away. Seeing him miserable affected me whether or not I wanted to admit it. No matter how much he hurt me, I still cared about him. I couldn’t help myself.

It wasn’t the same kind of caring it had once been. It had evolved and transformed into something different. Something that bordered on agony. Almost like going through the surgery to put my head back together. I knew that in the end, it would be the best thing for me—despite hurting like a bitch and knowing I’d come out differently.

Others who have life-changing experiences find God, become charitable, go around preaching not to take life for granted. I’d never had that need. I figured people already knew just how precious life was.

I let other people ignore signs of my accident as they went about their daily life, because any reminder would be too painful for them. I remembered how difficult it had been for people to look me in the eyes when I’d attempted everyday tasks in the weeks following my accident—like walking into the grocery store, needing the support of my mother’s arm or a cane.

Life was hard enough.

Instead of going around preaching about just how fragile our existence was, I took life by the balls. I got my needs met—physical, mental, social—did whatever the hell I wanted, never worrying how I looked to those around me. They didn’t know me anyway.

It was a pretty fucked-up way of conducting my life, I now realized. Even I could see the absurdity of my last three years. I had been over-the-top, like a clown with too much makeup. If I’d just toned it down, people might’ve actually been able to understand me better, see me more clearly. I was just some messed-up girl trying to navigate her way through relationships and decisions. Through life.

“I asked you to take a ride on that motorcycle with me,” Miles said, with conviction in his voice. And it dawned on me that he’d been trying to navigate through life in his own way, too. “And after the accident . . . seeing you like that, knowing it was my fault?”

Suddenly his head dropped to his hands, and I was stunned into silence. “I couldn’t live with myself. With the idea that I’d hurt you.”