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Except the girl knows me too well, because she pulls up to the pump, turns off the car, and stares straight ahead, staying stubbornly seated.

I jerk my head toward the back. “When I drive, I pump.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the way you pump. And unimpressive as it is, don’t think I don’t know your plan, that the second I unbuckle my seatbelt you’re going to be behind the wheel.”

I put a green M&M between my teeth and grin at her, my mood slightly improved by her bad mood. “Luce. Did you just make a sex joke with that whole pump thing?”

She rolls her eyes, and I lean forward. “So you think about it. The way I…pump?”

Lucy hisses out a breath, and apparently changes her mind about pumping the gas, because she gets out, slamming the door on me.

I climb out of the car after she does. I fully intend to walk around the front of the car to get in the driver’s side, but feeling ornery and more than a little horny, I walk toward the back of the car, stepping in front of her just as she’s about to reach for the gas pump.

She looks up at me, her green eyes unreadable, and that bothers me. I used to know her every thought, but she’s increasingly a mystery to me, part childish brat, part sexy woman, and most vexing of all, part mine.

“What?” she asks.

I realize that I’ve crowded her against the side of Horny, more aware than ever just how appropriate the car’s name is for this road trip.

“You’re making me crazy,” I say, because it’s the first thing that pops into my mind and the truth.

Her face registers incredulity. “Me? You’re the one running hot and cold! You’re either comforting me with a hug, or snapping at me, or ordering me quesadillas when I’m sad, or putting your hands all over me on the dance floor, or then not even looking at me when we’re alone in the hotel room.”

I lean in, even as I know I’m playing with fire. “Did you want me to look at you?”

She looks away. “No.”

I press my knuckle under her chin, forcing her gaze back up to mine. “Lucy.”

“Reece.”

I look at her lips as she licks them, before meeting her eyes once more. “You think I’m running hot and cold? Two days ago you had a boyfriend you couldn’t wait to see.”

Her eyes dart to the side and it tells me everything I need to know. I smile. “You were relieved, weren’t you? You were relieved that the bastard cheated on you so that you didn’t have to worry about breaking up with him.”

“Yes, Reece. That’s just what I was hoping for when I drove all the way to Miami to surprise him—that I’d walk in on him with his tongue in another girl’s mouth. Because that sure worked out well for us, didn’t it?”

She tries to move around me, but I block her way, my hand finding her hip. “Enough of that. You have to decide, Luce. You wanna be mad at me and hate me forever for something that happened when we were kids, or do you want to grind against me on the dance floor and put it behind us?”

This time when her eyes come back to mine they’re still angry, but now they’re also filled with tears, and it rips at me. “You think I want to remember? You think I’m clinging to that memory of your betrayal for kicks? It hurt, Reece. It still hurts. Do I forget sometimes? Sure. Sometimes I forget what you did. But only for a little while. Then the memory comes back and it breaks my heart all over again, and no amount of quesadillas or hugs or flirting can fix it.”

Emotion causes my fingers to dig into her hips, and I don’t know if it’s anger or exasperation or pain, and all I can manage is to exhale, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against hers, just for a moment, trying to get my shit together.

I step back. “All right then. All right.”

My arms drop to my sides and I start to head into the store for water or a Coke, or more M&M’s. Anything to get away from her while my blood is still simmering.

“Reece.”

I pause, but don’t turn around.

“I’m not the only one who’s confused,” she says, challenge in her voice. “You don’t know what you want either.”

I keep walking, because there’s nothing to say, because she’s damn right.

I don’t know what I want. I mean, I know that my body wants hers. Fuck, I’m half-terrified that my body will always want hers. Today, tomorrow, ten years from now.

But my brain knows better.

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