“What’s wrong?” He was panting a little bit. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
 
 Yes, but not him.
 
 I felt hollow once again, and I was starting to think I’d always be hollow.
 
 “It was, but ... I’m a mess right now. I gotta go home.” I waved a hand toward him. “Before I do something I’ll regret.”
 
 He flinched before stepping back again. “Didn’t think we were like that, but okay. I can take a hint.” He began walking back to the bar. “Take care of yourself, Jess.”
 
 I started after him. “Brian—”
 
 He ignored me, the door slamming shut behind him.
 
 Goddamn. I was making a mess of everything around me.
 
 My phone buzzed then.
 
 Trace:Where are you?
 
 I closed my eyes, because just a text had my body warming all the way back up. Him. It was him for me, and my body had chosen, and I was so screwed.
 
 But I responded, giving in once again.
 
 I was sliding toward those gates of hell.
 
 I was starting to welcome the heat of being wrong.
 
 Me:Heading to my place now.
 
 CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
 
 TRACE
 
 Me:Are you sleeping?
 
 My phone buzzed when the elevators opened for my floor.
 
 Jess:No.
 
 Me:Where exactly are you?
 
 Jess:In bed, just not asleep.
 
 I went to the bar, poured a whiskey, and took it with me to the bathroom. After turning the shower on, I stepped back and began taking my clothes off.
 
 Me:I want you naked.
 
 I began stroking myself, waiting for her, envisioning her lying there, considering it.
 
 Jess:I can’t do this with you.
 
 Me:Take your clothes off and wet your lips, baby. Now.
 
 Jess:These texts could be evidence.
 
 Me:I’m hard already and I’m getting harder. Do it. Now.
 
 Head back, eyes closed, I kept going, imagining her right now, seeing her sliding her pants down, her underwear next.