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Her glowering expression is cute. “So, you come here often?”

My hungry gaze consumes her, starting with the platform heels and working my way up. Her thighs, flared hips, soft stomach, full breasts, and heavily made-up face.

“No, but seeing you like this? I’m sure you could get me there.”

She plants a hand on her hip and shifts her weight. “I mean do you frequent this establishment?”

“I do now. You didn’t mention working at the club.”

She drops the hand on her hip, the one with the attitude. “I just started recently. I’ve been taking the classes, and thought I would try it out for real . . . see what it’s like.”

I don’t buy it. I saw the way she kicked her dresser before making the call. She’s here out of desperation, I’m assuming it’s money related. I sit forward and reach for her. She steps closer, putting her small hand in mine. She has gorgeous eyes. A slow grin grows on my lips. “Liar.”

She rips her hand away and crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s none of your business how I make my money.”

Bingo. I shrug. “Have a seat.” I nod to the spot next to me on the bench. “Relax. I’m not here to judge you. Is money the reason you canceled our appointment today?”

Reluctantly, she sits. “Yeah. I wouldn’t be able to work while my tattoo was healing.”

I turn sideways on the seat, resting my right elbow on the back of the bench so I can talk to her face-to-face. I touch the tips of the fake hair. “The blond is different . . . Very Pretty Woman.”

The change of conversation visibly releases the tension in her shoulders, I can actually see the moment she drops her guard. “Like it?”

“Can I touch you?”

She nods.

“Save the pink for me, yeah?”

She dips her chin, glancing toward the floor. “Okay.”

“Promise me,” I say.

“I promise. Are you mad?”

“I wish you had told me what was going on. Less than twenty-four hours ago you told me you wanted to be more than a hookup, then you no-show at your appointment and leave me on read⁠—”

She peers down at her feet. “I didn’t know what to tell you.”

“Tell me the truth, Anna. That’s all I’m asking. You don’t get to go dark, feed me half-truths, and then come back and act like nothing happened. If you want this—if you want me—then show up. No secrets or disappearing acts. I let you in, that’s not something I do. You owe me the same courtesy. I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt every time you’ve detached, but I’m done pretending I don’t notice when you do it. I want you, but I’m not playing games to keep you, and I’m sure as hell not going to stand here and play along while you decide when I matter.”

By the time I finish my piece, her bottom lip trembles but she doesn’t say anything.

“Come on, Anna.”

Tears brim her eyes. “I don’t know how to explain it yet without changing how you look at me.”

“You don’t get to decide what I can handle,” I press.

“I’m not deciding what you can handle, I’m trying to honor my own limits here—this is new for me.”

I study her features—those pleading eyes—and my chest loosens when I see the way she’s warring with herself.

“Explain that,” I say, finally.

She exhales slowly, gathering her thoughts. “My life is a mess right now, Casper—the kind of mess that can affect other people. I’ve been trying to protect you, but I can see how it looked like I was choosing distance over you—that was never the case . . . I want you. I’m just trying to get my life in order so I can be with you the way you deserve.”

“It already has affected us. Good intentions don’t change the impact.”