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I wasn’t even tired. Barrett was. I could see and feel how tired he was. I can’t freaking believe I let him get me off and then I fell asleep. I start down the ladder, praying I’ll find him asleep in his room. Preferably with his dick in hand.

His room is empty.

My chest feels tight as I descend the stairs. My feet feel heavy. This is so like me. Falling all over myself around him since we met, and then we get together and I screw it up.

I swallow hard as tears well in my eyes.

It’s not as if I’m such a catch, either.

That evil part of me… She’s hard to argue with.

I step into the den and find dying embers winking in the fireplace. He wanted me. He wanted me. I almost say it aloud, but then I notice the dark curtains over to my left. They’re drawn over the slider door, the one that leads onto the stilted deck. I’ve never seen them shut before. I step closer and I feel a rush of cool air.

Because the door is slightly open.

I creep more closely to it, peel the curtain back, and—

“Oh.”

It’s just a squeak. My hand covers my mouth as I blink at the glass door. Someone hit it. Someone—Barrett—hit it hard enough to dent it. There’s a fist-sized circle appearing white from all the little cracks, and all around it, thinner cracks ripple out.

He punched the door. Tonight? I try to remember whether the curtains were shut when we arrived here, but I can’t.

Then it doesn’t matter. I see movement on the deck: Barrett. He turns his head, and as I wrap my hand around the door handle, he steps over and pushes it open with his big arm, stepping inside in just jeans.

One of his hands is cradling his phone, and he looks somber. Tired.

“Barrett. I can’t— I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—” Heat stings my cheeks. “I…fell asleep.”

He blinks. “I let you sleep.” He slides his phone into his back pocket and takes a few steps past me. Then he looks over his shoulder. “I can walk you home now.”

“No…” I look into his eyes, expecting them to soften. “I want to…return the favor.” I step closer to him, giving him a little smile and reaching for his arm. “I wanted to so much, I can’t believe I didn’t. You… I was so tired after. I want to do it now, if you want. Then maybe you’ll be sleepy too.”

His face hardens. I feel like a fish on sand. “I’m sorry. I’m embarrassed. Let’s go to your room, and then I can walk home.”

He shakes his head, then turns around and starts toward the kitchen. “Don’t worry about it. I have some things I need to do.”

He glances once again toward me as he reaches his door, and my throat tightens. He looks apathetic. Cold.

I don’t notice I’ve stopped moving until he takes a black jacket off the coat rack beside the door and holds it out. “C’mon.”

I move toward him as if underwater. Something changed. What happened? Does he think I’m selfish?

“Barrett…” I reach for his arm, raised as he holds the coat open for me. He flinches back.

Well…shit.

I stand there staring at the jacket. Barrett moves around behind me. “Put your arms in, Gwenna.”

He regrets it.

I slide my arms into his sleeves. The jacket melds around me, cool, thin fabric. Some kind of Thinsulate shell thing.

My body pauses, awaiting his touch, so I am stunned to hear him turn a lock. I whirl around and frown.

“Is that a deadbolt?”

“Yes,” he says. He sounds almost robotic.

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