Last night. When I finally saw her as more than Heath’s sister.

My mother’s voice echoed in my head. “Life is passing you by while you sit on the sidelines. You’re better than that. Figure out what you want and go after it.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out I wanted Ariel Sampson. But what the hell was I going to do about it?

I rolled out of bed slowly, stretching as I went. It felt like a group of street kids had used my head for a drum on a street corner in the Quarter instead of a five-gallon bucket.

Going out last night had been a mistake, not because of the hangover, but because of everything else it shifted.

I should have stayed at my hotel. But I hadn’t. And now I couldn’t get the picture of Ari’s hair spread across my pillow out of my head.

Turning away from the bed, I walked into the massive attached bathroom. Probably nicer than any I’d ever seen, but all I cared about was the new toothbrush on a tray between the double sinks.

After ridding myself of the gutter-sludge taste in my mouth, I used one of the glasses to drink a half gallon of water before opting for a shower. The steam killed the headache, and I finally felt like a functioning human again.

I pulled on my jeans, wishing they were sweats instead, and walked out in the hallway. I was hoping my nose would lead me toward the scent of coffee or breakfast, but no such luck. Instead of finding the kitchen like I intended, I got lost in the maze of hallways and heard a thump coming from one of the rooms on the back side of the house. I approached the door and heard a grunt and a groan followed by a moan.

I froze two feet away.

What the fuck?

Another thump and a groan.

No way. Ari was not having sex in there. Not in this house while I was here.

Because if anyone was having sex with her in this house, then goddammit, it was going to be me.

I froze, realizing I’d made a decision this morning that changed a hell of a lot. Now that I knew what I wanted and was going after it, no one was going to get in my way.

Especially not . . . who the hell was in there with her? If Ari’s boyfriend showed up last night . . . No. Not after the way she acted when Heath talked about him. She said she was done.

Then I heard her grunt again, and with my ear practically pressed to the door, it sounded more like a noise caused by frustration rather than pleasure.

I shoved open the thick wooden door and burst inside—to find a full gym and Ari on her back, struggling against a much larger man, her face twisted.

Oh, hell no. No one puts their hands on her. He was going to die.

Rushing forward, I didn’t think. I reached for the first weapon I could find, a dumbbell. I poised to strike.

Ari flipped the much larger man onto his back, keeping hold of his arm in a classic arm-bar submission move. “Tap, dammit!”

Her face red from exertion, Ari widened her eyes when they locked on me. Through labored breaths, she said, “What the hell are you going to do with that?”

She released her grip on the man and he jumped to his feet, his expression wary.

I lowered the dumbbell and Carver surveyed me carefully, something like respect settling onto his features.

“I heard you. Thought you were in trouble.”

“And your plan was to bludgeon someone with a thirty-pound dumbbell?”

I glanced at the weight in my hand before looking back at her. “If necessary.”

“Brutal,” she said as she held out a hand, and I used my free one to pull her to her feet. “But thank you.”

Carver retreated to a small fridge, retrieved two water bottles, and walked toward us, tossing one to Ari. He didn’t look all too interested in getting close to either of us, probably because he almost died of blunt-force trauma to the head.

Instead of catching the water bottle with a feat of coordination like one would have expected given the level of skill she just demonstrated, Ari batted it away with both hands, hopping backward. “Whoa. Just because I can submit you with an arm bar doesn’t mean I can catch things.”

For some reason, it was comforting to know that certain things never changed.

Carver clearly didn’t know her that well after all based on the look of surprise on his face. “But you just—”

“Planned out a series of movements to gain a submission and followed through with them while making adjustments in form to compensate for your changes? That’s strategy, practice, and execution. Impromptu is not my forte.”

I wanted to laugh, but my mind was already skipping ahead. Why the hell was she grappling and submitting a guy? Was there more of a security threat than she’d let on?

“You studying self-defense for fun or out of necessity?” I asked.

“Does it matter?” Her question to answer a question didn’t satisfy me.

I dropped the dumbbell and lunged toward Ari, catching her off guard by locking one arm around her stomach and the other around her neck. Then I hauled her back against me like an attacker might.

For a moment, she didn’t move, frozen in shock. Probably like she would if someone actually attacked her in real life.

“Fight me,” I growled into her ear. “If I can get you out of this room, I can get you in a car and no one ever sees you again.”

Still she didn’t move, but Carver looked like he wanted to pull a gun and go for a head shot. Fuck him. I was more invested in her personal safety than he’d ever be. This wasn’t a paycheck to me, this was personal. Vital.

“Fight me, goddammit. Show me what you’ve got. What you’d do if your life depended on it.”

I dragged her toward the door, and six feet from it, Ari finally snapped into action. Elbow to the gut. Good. Stomp to the top of my foot. Damn, that hurt.

Adjusting my grip, I moved my hand up from her neck to cover her mouth as she started to swear. Partially cutting off her ability to breathe would scare the shit out of her, but hopefully force her to fight harder.

We were three feet from the door when she bit my hand, and I jerked it away. Exactly the move she was waiting for. The next thing I knew, I was lying flat on my back on the mat with Ari standing above me, her chest heaving and a troubled expression on her face.

Carver stepped beside her, holding out her bottle of water. “You need to work on your reaction time.” As soon as he delivered his advice, he strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

“You bit me,” I said, acutely aware we were now alone and I was already flat on my back.