He interrupted, "And you know it. She's not blind. She slept with Corrigan knowing his reputation. Do you really think she thought he was going to profess his love for her? She's not a stupid girl."

Grace made a choking sound, but I didn't look back. I couldn't; my eyes were held captive by Bryce's. I closed my mouth and gulped, but I waited for the rest of what he had to say.

"Don't turn around and be hypocritical on Corrigan. He doesn't love her. He doesn't owe her anything. You might, but he doesn't."

Corrigan added, "Those are our rules, Sheldon. You know that."

I closed my eyes. I heard everything they said, and it was all true. All of it. Those were the rules that we lived by in our dysfunctional family, but they were hard to swallow that day.

I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders. "And I'm being loyal to Grace by going after the guy that used her for sex. That's one of my rules."

I couldn't look away from the two guys in my life. They'd been my family for so long, my only family, and now I was going against them. A part of my heart fell to the bottom of my stomach.

This wasn't going to end well.

Bryce snapped his eyes to Grace. "This is why I didn't want you around. You screw things up for the rest of us." Then he stalked past us and left.

CHAPTER SIX

Corrigan apologized for the awkward position he'd put me in but didn't say a word to Grace. He left but quickly returned with Raz and Michael in tow. They needed to know how to get out, so I released the lock on the gate. I told them it would open as they approached and to make sure it closed behind them. I didn't want any reporters inside; though I knew Corrigan wouldn't let that happen anyway. Once they were gone, I turned and stared at Grace. I was the friend that made things right, but I couldn't this time.

"I'm sorry," I finally said.

Grace waved me off. "Don't worry about it. We can talk later. I hope…" She glanced at me but never finished her thought. Instead, she grabbed her purse and followed behind the guys.

When she was gone, I sighed as I looked around my home. I was struck by the same feeling as before—it was large and nearly empty. But Bryce was there and something righted itself inside of me. I grabbed a glass of wine and headed upstairs to the master bedroom. I found him on the bed, shirtless, as he watched ESPN. There was an open beer next to him.

He lifted cautious eyes to mine, and I tried to lighten the mood. "I'm not here for a fight."

I saw the tension leave him and couldn't help my smile. I placed the wine on my nightstand and crawled onto the bed beside him.

Bryce cradled me against his chest and kissed my forehead. "I don't like it when you have girlfriends. I'm sorry, but I don't."

I sat up and leaned back on my knees. I caught how Bryce eyed my midriff, and then, with a grin, I lifted my shirt up and threw it in the corner. I was left in my lacy black bra and jeans.

Bryce unsnapped the button, and I leaned forward to kiss him. As our lips met, I felt Bryce skim my body with his hands as he helped remove my pants. They slid past my thighs and down to my knees. Then Bryce lifted me in the air and pulled the jeans off, flinging them to the side as I straddled him.

With lust in his eyes, Bryce leaned back and grinned predatorily. He slid a hand across my stomach and fingered just inside my underwear. I sucked in my breath and caught his hand as I panted. "I want to know why you don't like my girlfriends."

Bryce groaned in protest and tried to kiss my collarbone. I dodged and grabbed his hands. Then I pinned them against the headboard. "Bryce. Tell me."

"Because," he sighed, "when you have guys as friends, I know that they aren't going to screw you over. You handle guys better, and they know not to hurt you. But girls play by different rules. I knew Mena was mental, but I couldn't prove it, and you don't listen when someone's gotten past your walls."

I folded my arms over my chest and jutted my chin out. "Consider yourself included in that category."

"I know. I know. I get worried for you. I can hurt Corrigan. I can hurt any other guy, but girls are different. I can't hurt a girl if she hurts you. I don't like those rules."

I sighed as I understood his concerns. "Grace is not Mena."

"No, she's not, but she can't handle this life. And I'm worried for you because you're going to have to take care of her. You're going to get hurt because of her and because she won't be able to deal with things. We don't have an easy lifestyle. We fight. And it's not high school anymore. We've got the media. I've got a nation watching me, now watching you. Corrigan's got—hell, he's got that entire campus or so it seems. Grace isn't going to be able to handle what's coming at her."

I shifted even closer and slid until I felt him intimately between my legs. Bryce sucked in his breath and watched me, his eyes filled with desire. I grinned, one of those secretive smiles because I had the power in that moment. I arched my hips forward and nipped the corner of his mouth when he groaned.

Then I whispered against his lips, "She's my problem. Not yours. And Grace can handle a lot more than you give her credit for."

Bryce grasped the back of my head and held me still. He fused his mouth to mine, exploring me fully, slowly. I wanted more, and my hands twisted around his shoulders to hold him closer.

"We'll deal, I guess." Bryce shifted to lay me down, covering me with his body while his lips lingered on my neck.

I cradled his head and then moved my hands down to feel each outlined muscle in his back.

He looked up, holding my gaze for a long minute before meeting my mouth. I gasped, fell back, and entwined my legs around his waist, holding on as if my life depended on his touch—and sometimes it really did feel that way.

We shed what little clothing we still wore. The rest of the night left me aching, and I knew I'd be useless in the morning, but I didn't care. Bryce was back. That was all that mattered. I'd figure out the rest tomorrow.

I woke the next day with a pounding headache. I groaned and twisted amidst the sheets and naked limbs. Bryce had me wrapped in his arms with one of his legs thrown over mine, effectively pinning me to the bed. Seeing his head tucked underneath a pillow, I couldn't stop a grin at the sight of his Mohawk as it stuck up in every which way. His eyes had crinkles from fatigue around them. I stroked his muscled shoulder and arm until I found his side.