44

I went over to the fridge and grabbed myself a beer, taking a long sip before I straddled one of the stools. “I’m going to paint you a scenario.”

“All right.”

Why was my brain conjuring up these questions when Declan had been such a bastard to me?

Why, when his words had sliced me open, the wound still fresh and raw, did I want more from him?

Why, when I had proof that he’d been with Madison, was I somehow able to see past that?

I didn’t know.

But what I did know was my knowledge of men was limited, and I didn’t understand the opposite sex at all. Not the way they thought, how they reacted, or how they processed. I couldn’t work through this on my own. I needed help, someone on the inside, and Oaklyn wasn’t that person. Since I couldn’t have this conversation with my brother, that left Ford.

“There’s this girl and guy who meet one random night. Things happen between them. Physically, I mean. Think sparks, like the Fourth of July, loads of chemistry, breaking down barriers like they ne