Jesus.

Breathing deep, I throw my arm over my eyes, trying my best to block out the words. Instead I concentrate on slowing my heart rate, willing myself to fall back asleep, but I can’t.

All I can think about is the damn dream. Jen. Jennifer Cade dancing on a f**king stage like some sort of sex goddess—for other men. Since when did I want her to be my personal sex goddess?

Longer than you ever realized, ass**le.

Right. I’ve turned into an angst-ridden ass**le that can do nothing but mope and push a girl away. The kind of man who could probably turn his life into something pretty amazing, if only I would let her in. If only I could drop my walls.

Women have moved in and out of my life. Nameless faces, pretty bodies, girls I’ve used for physical release and nothing else. Relationships are nonexistent. I’ve never wanted one. Never thought a woman would want one with me. I’m just like my father. I can’t settle down. Dad tried but he left, keeping Mom on a string. A string she happily lets herself stay attached to.

I don’t get it.

I think of pissed-off Fable and wonder if her boyfriend would give me any advice. Chuckling, I roll over on my side and close my eyes. Yeah, we’re sort of friends and we get along all right, but come on. I’m older than the guy, though not by much. I’ve actually lived my life, whereas he’s been shuttled from one school to another by Daddy’s money, never having to work a day beyond perfecting his throw and submersing himself completely in football.

Yeah, I have money too. Now. Dad always had money since he inherited a fortune from my grandpa a couple of years after I was born, but for the most part, he made me work for mine, the motherfucker. He’d given me the restaurant just like his father had given him one long ago when I was a baby, when he left Mom, and after extensive training, he left me to my own devices. He’d come back into my life time and again, wanting us to work together, and I reluctantly agreed.

We’re so similar, it’s hard working with him. We clash constantly.

My mom took what he gave her, always muttering to me what a cheap jackass he was, though I know that’s not true. I don’t understand them, don’t understand how they fell in love and decided to marry in the first place. The two of them—especially now—make zero sense together.

They’re still freaking married, for Christ’s sake. I think she secretly wishes he’ll come back to her. I think he likes knowing that she’s there, waiting for him. Their relationship is sick and twisted. The push and pull between them. The arguments. No wonder I don’t want a relationship. Look at the example I’ve been given.

Yeah. My life is completely different from Drew’s. But maybe the guy could help me. It might not hurt to have a different perspective.

At the very least, Drew could help knock some sense into me because he seems like a sensible guy. He has to be to deal with Fable on a day-to-day basis. That woman is crazy. Crazy beautiful, crazy protective, crazy opinionated, crazy all of the above and then some, but the most loyal girlfriend I’ve ever witnessed.

You’re just irritated with Fable because she called you out on your shit.

True. She made me face things I really didn’t want to see.

I still don’t.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

I take a swig from my beer, glancing at Drew. “What makes you think I want to talk about something specific?” My voice is falsely jovial, as is my smile. We’re at a bar downtown, one not even close to my restaurant, a place where the college kids really don’t hang out. It’s geared more toward the older local guys who get out of work and are looking for a drink or two before they gotta go home and face reality. I chose the location on purpose, didn’t want any distractions.

“I guess we’re—friends, but it’s not like we hang out.” Drew frowns. “I don’t think you’ve ever asked me to meet you at a bar and have a few beers. We usually have the girls with us as a buffer.”

He’s right. We always have Fable and Jen with us.

“Fable’s angry with me,” I say, changing the subject. Slightly.

Drew nods, his expression grim. “I know. She’ll get over it. I told her she can’t tell everyone what to do.”

I’m shocked that he knows, but then again, I’m not. Those two tell each other everything. There are no secrets between them from what I can tell. “I think she’s mad at Jen, too.”

“She was, but they hashed it out or whatever earlier, and now everything’s fine.”

Well, hell. I had no idea. Of course, I haven’t seen or heard from Jen all day long. I’m sure she’s avoiding me. I can’t freaking blame her.

“I’m guessing everyone getting pissed at each other has to do with you and Jen?” Drew raises a brow, waiting for my answer, which he already knows.

I nod, feeling glum. “I should apologize.”

“It would help, I’m sure,” Drew says wryly.

Damn it. This is not how I envisioned myself, acting like a mopey jackass over a woman. I’m a take-charge kind of guy. I see something I want, I go after it. Usually. But for whatever reason, I deny myself when it comes to Jen.

Women are good only for some occasional relief. I don’t care about them or their feelings. I don’t have time to nurture a relationship. Whatever a woman wanted from me, I only gave her my physical self. My emotions, my thoughts? Those were always mine.

It’s so easy to fall into bed with a woman. Have sex, give each other pleasure. It’s the aftermath that scares me. That’s why I can’t chance it with Jen. She’s my friend first, and she f**king matters. I know I’d ruin it between us. Jen would want more than I could give. I’d disappoint her and she’d break it off with me. For good.