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“Right.” I mumble. “Sorry for interrupting your morning.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, is Matthew there with you now?”

“He is,” she whispers sounding happy.

“Okay, enjoy your time with him and I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“See you then.” She hangs up and I stare at the phone not sure what it is I’m feeling.

Chapter 5

Clay

SLIDING MY CELL out of Willow’s hand I tuck it into my pocket then place my fingers under her chin. My gut clenches when I see the look on her face, and I bite back the urge to let her know what I think of her friend. It’s obvious that the woman she was with last night couldn’t give a flying fuck about what happened to her and that she only cared about herself. But right now is not the time to bring any of that up.

“I swear I don’t remember drinking that much.”

“You might not have; how well do you know that girl?”

“Carly?” Her brows drag together.

I clench my fists to avoid reaching out and touching her.

“Like I told you, we work together and have hung out a few times.”

“So, she could be lying.”

“Why would she lie? She said I called an Uber and she sounded worried.” She slides off her stool and walks around into the kitchen, opening the fridge. “Do you want some?” She holds up a refillable jug of water.

“I’m good.” I pull out my phone when it starts to ring then slide my finger across the screen and put it to my ear. “What’s up?” I ask Miles.

“Cameras at the bar were conveniently down last night, but the closing bartender did leave a bag behind the counter after closing up and it’s Willow’s.”

“Was there a phone with it?”

“Yep, in the bag.”

“Where are you now?” I question.

“Where do we need to be?”

“I’m at Willow’s.”

“You always did love playing with fire,” he mutters, then adds, “shoot me a text with her address.”

“Will do.” I hang up then type out a quick message, letting him know I’ll meet him downstairs.

“What’s going on?” Willow asks and I meet her gaze.

Fuck, even fresh-faced and as tired as she obviously is, she’s still fucking beautiful.

“Your bag was at the bar and your phone was in it.”

“Seriously?” Her shoulders sag in relief.

“Yeah, but the cameras were down so there is no way of knowing what the fuck happened while you were there.”

“Maybe Carly is right, maybe I drank too much,” she says.

She doesn’t look convinced.

“Do you normally drink until you can’t remember shit?”

“Never.” She pours herself a glass of water and chugs it down before pouring another. “But I don’t see Carly lying about something like that.”

“You also don’t know her well, babe, and it’s obvious from the outside looking in that she’s a shit friend.”

“You don’t know her.”

“Neither do you.”

She makes a noise in the back of her throat that is both cute as fuck and frustrating to hear, because it’s obvious she doesn’t want to hear me say it even if she’s thinking it herself.

“Do I need to go somewhere to pick up my purse?”

“Miles and Tucker are dropping it off.”

“Your brothers, you mean.” She raises a brow and I lift my chin. “They didn’t tell my dad that they were both your brothers.”

“We’re not blood, we grew up in the same foster home.” I tell her and her expression fills with sympathy.

“Oh.”

“I’ll meet them downstairs and bring your bag up.” I turn to head for the door, but her next words stop me in my tracks.

“I won’t tell.”

I look at her over my shoulder.

“It’s obvious that you don’t want people to know that you guys are related.” She clears her throat. “So, I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’d appreciate that.” I turn and leave her in the apartment, not sure what to do with whatever-the-fuck is happening inside my chest. A few minutes after I get downstairs, Tucker and Miles pull up in their work-issued SUV and they both hop out. With one look at Tucker’s face, I can tell he’s pissed, but he’s just going to have to get the fuck over it. I was curious about Willow before finding her last night, but the moment I saw her in my bed this morning, I knew that it wouldn’t be the last time I’d see her there. And now the urge to have her is stronger than it was.

“I tried to tell him to stay in the car.” Miles greets quietly when he gets close enough to hand me Willow’s purse.

“You just can’t fucking help yourself, can you?” Tucker clips, walking up on us.

“Tuck, chill man.” Miles sighs.

“He’s gonna blow our shit up; do you not see that?”

“You’re gonna blow our shit up because you can’t get a fucking grip on your emotions,” Miles tells him, then looks at me. “How’s Willow feeling? Did she get a hold of the friend she was with last night?”

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