Page 47 of Second Shot

I exhale a slow, uneven breath. “She’s a junkie. You don’t want to getinvolved-”

“You don’t knowthat.”

“I know the signs.” I shake my head at him. “Can’t go through thatagain.”

“She’s yoursister.”

“Half-sister,” I correct. “And until a year ago, I didn’t even know sheexisted.”

“That’s cold,man.”

“No, it’s reality. And it’s not my fucking problem. You want to go down to the corner of Third and William and save all the meth heads, be my guest.” I push my stool back, knowing I sound like a complete asshole. But I have a family to protect now. “If I thought I could save her, I would. But we both know there’s nothing we can do, unless the person actually wantshelp.”

“She’s just akid.”

“She’s almost twenty.” I shift off the stool, ready to go back to my hotel room. “Look. I’m not trying to sound like a dick. If she wants help. I’ll be there for her. But I’ve got Brynne to think about. I’m already walking a thin wire with her, and she’s still messed up about Sam. It’s just a fucking terrible time to have to deal withthis.”

He doesn’t look convinced. But he’s always been a bleeding heart. Always bringing in the strays. Women and dogs. He hasn’t had a healthy relationshipeverbecause ofit.

“Stop trying to fix everyone else’s problems, and fix yourown.”

“I don’t have any problems.” He lifts his bottle and gives me a forced smile. “Living thedream.”

I grunt, pushing away from the bar. “Good, then you can pay for thedrinks.”

Chapter 14

Brynne

Iwas worriedwhen I moved in that Kane would be suffocating, but with his schedule, he hasn’t been around much. The trouble is, when he is around, he’s…perfect.And almost alwaysshirtless.

I know he’s doing it to piss me off, because who the hell walks around without a shirt on all the time?Kane Madden, that’swho.

Not that I don’t enjoy the view. I enjoy it too much. And he knowsit.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Kane leans against the doorframe with a smirk, watchingme.

I follow his gaze back to the canvas I’d been working on, heat rushing to my cheeks when I recognize the similarities between the male form I’d been sketching, and the man standing behindme.

“Don’t flatteryourself.”

“If I was, I’d add a little more definition around the abs.” He’s wearing a t-shirt, a rare occurrence. He lifts it, exposing his stomach, and runs a palm over the perfect six-pack.

I roll my eyes at him. “What do you want,Madden?”

“Noah’sasleep.”

“Already? But it’s only…” I reach for my phone, eyes widening when I see thetime.

“Nine-thirty,” he says, still grinning. “I didn’t want to disturbyou.”

“Thanks,” Imumble.

“I stuck a lasagna in the oven. It should be ready if you’rehungry.”

My stomach growls. “Starving.”

“Me, too,” he says, his gaze dark as it roams over my body, then lands hungrily on mylips.

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