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was clearly something that bothered him, so I fessed up. “Sometimes.”
    I pulled back and picked up the white shorts I matched up with my top and slipped them on. They were super cute, made of loose material with extra white fabric around the waist that tied into a big white bow. I concentrated extra hard on tying that bow instead of the way Braeden crossed his arms over his chest and stared intently.
    “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here,” he said.
    A laugh bubbled out of my throat. Right. Like I was going to talk to him about the guy he hated and that one time I had sex with him.
    But he wouldn’t be deterred. Gently, he grasped my wrist and pulled me away from the mirror. “I mean it, Ivy. You can talk to me. Even about this.”
    I nodded. “I’m fine, honestly. They’re just dreams. It’s probably just karma making sure I get what’s mine because I was so stupid and slept with him.”
    “You’re not stupid,” he said, harsh, and paced away. He couldn’t go very far because the bathroom wasn’t that big. When he turned back, emotion burned behind his eyes. “I hate that you beat yourself up over this.”
    I didn’t say anything because I did regret it, and nothing was going to change that.
    He reached out and fingered the necklace around my neck. “I love you, Blondie.”
    Why did it seem like he was trying to say a lot more than just those three words?
    “I love you too.”
    The air in here was thick, so I opened the door to let in some fresh. “Go get dressed. I’m starving.”
    I heard him in the bedroom, talking to Prada, as I styled my hair in a messy bun on top of my head. The entire time, I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in the shower and just now when he asked me about my dreams.
    Why did it feel like he thought the two were connected?
    What was I missing?

Chapter Four

    Braeden
    Her body remembered.
    It remembered exactly what her mind wanted to forget.
    It made perfect sense now. The dreams, the weight I sometimes noticed on her shoulders, and just now in the shower… Her body knew exactly what happened.
    The mind and body were connected in ways we would never understand. So even if Ivy’s brain didn’t know why it was reacting, the body told it to anyway.
    Did I make the wrong decision? Should I have told Ivy about the pictures I found, about the proof of her being sexually assaulted?
    I felt like I was being shown two roads to travel, but neither of them led to my destination. I was damned if I did, damned if I didn’t.
    Maybe it seemed exaggerated now because I’d been gone. Maybe all the changes of her moving into this house, getting a job, and me leaving were just a lot to deal with all at once. Now that I was back, I could be around more. I could make sure she felt safe. Maybe things would calm down.
    School would be starting back up, we would all fall into a routine, and her body’s memories would fade. The fight or flight response surely would too.
    Right?
    God, I fucking hoped so.
    I couldn’t stand to watch it. To see her body react and her eyes fill with jumbled emotion, then guilt. She thought her torment was punishment for having sex with that dirt bag.
    I’d never in my life hated someone as much as I did Zach.
    And that was saying something, because I was such a hothead. I didn’t even hate my father the way I hated Zach.
    Hate was a dangerous emotion. It could drive a man to do things he might not ordinarily do.
    But love was just the same.
    This was the reason, up until now, I kept women in a neat little box wrapped up in a just for fun bow. Deep down inside was this place, a place I always sensed was there. I hid it behind a smile and sarcasm. I posed as a guy who didn’t have what I did inside.
    Darkness.
    A place where anger lived but so did fear. Fear and anger made a deadly cocktail.
    My love for Ivy was so strong it had the ability to unleash that darkness.
    So did my hate for the one who hurt her.
    Ivy was still fussing with her