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again. Yet, one of the reasons he’d returned to Willowbrook was her. If his suspicions about Emma and their breakup were true, Drew had every right to be pissed at her for risking her life and the life of their unborn child when she’d taken off on his Ducati.
    The clues had been subtle. She hadn’t drank the red wine, and she’d worn boots beneath her fancy dress. Emma wouldn’t have passed up wine for water or heels for boots. Not at a party.
    Shit, if only he’d used a condom like she’d asked the night he’d snuck her into his hotel room. She’d said she might’ve thrown up some of her BC pills when she had been sick, that maybe the antibiotics messed with her sensitive stomach. As always, Emma played it safe. Too bad safe hadn’t been on his mind when she’d stripped off her clothes, revealing a lacy get-up. A month had been too long away from her.
    “What time is it?” He zoned in on any topic, even something as mundane as the hour, just to get the image of her in a red, lace-trimmed bra and thong out of his mind.
    “It’s after six.”
    He’d slept all afternoon and into the evening. The intensity of his workouts wore him out. No wonder his wrists throbbed.
    “I went through your cupboards,” she continued. “There’s hardly any food in there or in your fridge. Drew Hazard, how the hell are you still upright?” She stood with her hands on her hips.
    He wouldn’t be mothered by her. Shoving his clenched hands into the mattress, he tried to sit up. A sharp pain cut into his wrists and shot to the tips of his fingers. Gritting his teeth, he fell back onto the pillows.
    She rushed forward, intending to help. A low growl from him had her hesitating for a fraction of a second before she climbed onto the bed and straddled his hips. A look of determination crossed her face before a fierce glare replaced it. Mess with anyone Emma cared about and the hidden fighter in her came out full force.
    “We might not be together anymore, but I won’t stand by and let you hurt.”
    Yet on the night she’d crashed his party, he’d hurt her with his words. On his back, Drew shielded himself from her with an arm over his eyes.
    Since the accident, he’d blamed Emma for his broken wrists. Deep inside, he realized it wasn’t her fault. He deserved the broken bones for the crass comment he’d made to her. No man should talk to a woman like that unless it was in bed and she’d asked to be talked dirty to.
    Lifting his arm, he snuck a peek at her. Long, brown hair fell over her shoulders in thick waves. Inquisitive, amber eyes scrutinized him as though she could see into his soul. He zoned in on her lips. Whether full on his mouth or their fullness wrapped around his cock . . .
    He tamped down the groan ready to slip out of him. Damn, Emma gave great head.
    Aware of her unawareness of where his thoughts wandered, he watched her dark, arched brows meet in the middle. Whatever she was thinking about, she was thinking too hard. And that meant something big was gonna happen.
    “I’ll be back. We’ll talk after we get food and pain meds in you.”
    She left, and he closed his eyes. Minutes passed. She was right about his empty fridge and cupboard. He’d only planned to stay for a week.
    The day he got into Willowbrook, he’d been too chicken-shit to confront Emma about the truth. The possibility of her being pregnant with his child had scared him while the thought of her keeping such a secret from him had Drew chucking his stash of footballs at the trees. Crazy mad and insanely scared out of his mind, he did the one thing he shouldn’t have done. He called his friends, Lucas and Rhys.
    Over shots of tequila, Drew told them what had happened at the party. Well, everything except for Emma’s risky proposition of him. Sure, the three of them ran their mouths off about their respective girlfriends. Guys needed to vent, too. However, what went on between the sheets was off-limits.
    What had those two nut-jobs advised