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Shit. He’s not even hiding it. He thinks I’m into him.
Miles walks to the refrigerator and opens it. “So Dillon. How’s your
wife?”

---

Miles doesn’t make an attempt to remove anything. He’s just
standing there, staring into the refrigerator, with his fingers gripping
the door handle harder than it’s ever been gripped, I’m sure.
Dillon is still looking at me, staring down at me. “She’s at work,” he
says pointedly. “For at least four more hours.”
Miles slams the refrigerator and takes two quick steps toward Dillon.
Dillon stands up straight, and I immediately scoot two feet away from
him. “Corbin specifically instructed you to keep your hands off his
sister. Show him some fucking respect!”
Dillon’s jaw twitches, and he doesn’t back down or look away from
Miles. In fact, he takes a step toward him, closing the space between
them. “Sounds to me like this isn’t really about Corbin,” Dillon says,
seething.
My heart is pounding in my chest. I feel guilty that I gave Dillon the
wrong idea and even guiltier that they’re arguing about it now. But
dammit, I love that Miles hates him so much. I just wish I knew if it was
because he doesn’t like that Dillon is flirting when he’s got a wife at
home or if he doesn’t like that Dillon is flirting with me.
And now Corbin is standing in the doorway.
Shit.
“What isn’t really about me?” Corbin asks, watching the two of them
in their standoff.
Miles backs up a step and turns so that he can face Dillon and Corbin
at the same time. His eyes remain locked hard with Dillon’s. “He’s
trying to fuck your sister.”
Jesus Christ, Miles. Ever hear of sugarcoating?
Corbin doesn’t even flinch. “Go home to your wife, Dillon,” he says
firmly.

---

As embarrassing as this is, I don’t do anything to step in and defend
Dillon, because I get the feeling that Miles and Corbin have been
looking for an excuse to defriend him for a while now. I would also
never defend a man who has no respect for his marriage. Dillon stares at
Corbin for several painstakingly long seconds, then turns to face me
with his back to both Miles and Corbin.
This boy seriously has a death wish.
“I live in ten-twelve,” he whispers with a wink. “Stop by sometime.
She works weeknights.” He turns away and walks between Corbin and
Miles. “The two of you can go fuck yourselves.”
Corbin turns, and his fists are clenched. He begins to stalk after
Dillon, but Miles grabs his arm and pulls him back into the kitchen. He
doesn’t release Corbin’s arm until the front door slams shut.
Corbin turns to face me, and he looks so angry I’m surprised steam
isn’t coming from his ears. His face is red, and he’s popping his
knuckles. I forgot how insanely protective he is of me. I feel like I’m
fifteen again, only now I suddenly have two overprotective brothers.
“Erase that apartment number from your head, Tate,” Corbin says.
I shake my head, somewhat disappointed that he would even think
I’d want to remember Dillon’s apartment number. “I have standards,
Corbin.”
He nods, but he’s still making an attempt to calm himself down. He
inhales a deep breath, pops his jaw, then walks back into the living
room.
Miles is leaning against the counter, staring down at his feet. I watch
him silently until he finally raises his eyes and looks up at me. He
glances toward the living room, then kicks off the counter and walks
toward me. Every step closer he takes, the more I press myself into the

---

counter behind me, making an attempt to back away from the intensity
in his eyes, even though I can’t very well go anywhere.
He reaches me.
He smells good. Like apples. Forbidden fruit.
“Ask me if you can study at my place,” he whispers.
I nod, wondering why in the hell he would make such a random
request after everything that just happened. I do it anyway, though.
“Can I study at your place?”
He breaks out into a huge grin and drops his forehead to the side of
my head so that his lips are directly over my ear. “I meant for you to ask
me in front of your brother,” he says, laughing quietly. “So I have an
excuse to get you over there.”