After drying off, I wrapped the towel around me before picking up the clothes that Reed had given me. I held the shirt out in front of me; it was worn looking. I couldn't help it; I pulled the shirt up to my nose and took in a long, deep breath. The smell was a mixture of him and clean laundry.

After pulling on the flannel pajama pants and rolling them up at the waist so they wouldn't drag on the floor, I combed through my hair and then walked back down the hall and into the kitchen. The place was quiet and dark except for a single light in the corner of the large living room. I craned my neck around the corner and looked around but saw no one. I wondered if Reed had already gone to bed.

"How was the shower?" a deep but soft voice broke the silence. I looked to my right, toward the windows, and saw Reed sitting in an oversized brown leather chair with his elbows on his knees, his head cradled in his hands. A dark, amber liquid sat on the coffee table in front of him. Now, looking at the windows a little more closely, I could see his reflection in them, as well as my own.

I took a few steps forward. "It was fine, thank you."

He tilted his head toward me. The pained look on his face hit me square in the chest, feeling like a wrecking ball had slammed into it.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

I shook my head, taking another couple steps forward. "No, I'm okay."

He nodded and then retreated deeper into his chair. I continued to make my way across the large room, finally taking a seat in the chair beside his. I watched as he slowly brought the glass up to his lips, how his lips curled around the edge of the glass. He titled his head back, taking a long drink before lowering the glass back down. After realizing I was staring at him and his lips for far too long, my eyes flew to something else, the rest of him. He was wearing blue-and-green plaid pajama pants with an old grey T-shirt. It was so old I couldn’t read the writing on the front. I fought to tear my eyes away as I curled my legs up to my chest.

"How are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Why am I whispering? I waited for his answer even though I was pretty sure I already knew what it was. The pain he wore on his face was evident.

He said nothing for a long moment before finally answering, "You know, the most frustrating part about it all is that I can't stop them. I can't protect my own sister from the people who care more about a damn story than an actual human being. They terrified her today. They said things to her, things that she should never have to deal with or hear ever again." After his rant, he took another long sip from his glass before letting his head fall back against the chair.

My heart ached from seeing him like this. I didn’t know exactly what he was feeling, but I knew he was still struggling with the guilt of what happened to his family. It seemed like all he wanted was to protect his sister, feeling as though he failed in protecting her two years ago, even though there was nothing he could have done.

We sat in silence and stared out the window, watching the city of New York before us. From this view, the normally loud and bustling city actually seemed peaceful.

6

THE NEXT morning, I walked into the kitchen to find Reed on the phone. He looked like hell, like he'd been up all night. He was still wearing blue-and-green plaid pajamas pants and the old grey T-shirt I’d seem him in the night before. Last night, when I finally went to bed, he said he was going to turn in soon, too. I was beginning to think that didn't happen.

He turned his head in my direction. He knew I was there, but his eyes never met mine.

"Just let me know when you get settled, okay?" His voice was strained and tired.

He set the phone down on the counter and turned around to refill his coffee cup. "That was Lexi," he finally said. "She sounds better. Brandon's going to take her out of town for the weekend, get her away from all this shit." He sounded annoyed, or maybe it was anger. I didn't know him well enough to know the difference.

"That will be good for her." I was a good ten feet from him, yet I could still feel the energy between us. The connection and desire of wanting to be near him was just as strong as it was yesterday.

When he finally turned to look at me, he didn't just look; he devoured me. His gaze started near my feet as he slowly took me in, finally meeting my eyes. I stood there, knowing what he was doing, letting him do it. My entire body felt like it was on fire from the way his eyes had assaulted me.

"Didn't like the flannel pants?" he asked, his lips curving up into a small smile. I glanced down, seeing my bare legs, as his shirt only hit me mid-thigh. I had taken them off before bed and forgot to put them back on this morning.

"I couldn't sleep with them on." My face felt hot and flushed. I must have looked like an idiot.

He nodded, still wearing the same easy smile. "Would you like some coffee?"

"No, I really should get ready to go. I have to go home to change before work." I turned around, wanting to get out of the kitchen before he could see me flushed. However, his voice stopped me.

"Robbins went by your place during the night and got you a change of clothes."

My whole body went numb. My heart pounded loudly in my ears. Robbins did what?!

When the words actually registered in my head, anger filled me. Robbins had been in my apartment without my permission? I slowly turned back around to face him.

He was staring right at me. "I was going to ask you if it was okay, but when I came into your room early this morning, you looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn't want to disturb you."

I stood there, looking at him, dumbfounded and shocked, not knowing what to say. Does he not realize what an invasion of privacy that is? Robbins had gone to my apartment? Without my permission? Went through my things?

I had no idea what he was expecting me to say, but after a few long seconds, he soon realized I wasn't happy. Maybe it was the death glare I could feel myself giving him, or maybe it was the fact that I hadn't answered him.

"If you're angry, be angry with me," he said. "Robbins was just doing as I asked," he finished, his voice flat, like he really didn't care. He moved around the kitchen without another word and without looking me in the eye. He seemed like a different person than the guy he’d been over the past couple of days. There was coldness to him that I hadn’t seen before now. Had something happened after I’d gone to bed last night? Or was the reality of what happened yesterday starting to catch up to him?

I tried not to focus on his feelings. He didn’t seem to feel bad about sending Robbins into my apartment so I didn’t think I should be worrying about why he was acting so strange. Whether it was for good intentions or not, he had no right to send his bodyguard into my apartment.

Too angry to say anything, I made my way back down the hall. Next to my bedroom door, I saw a familiar bag. My bag. I didn’t know how I missed it when I came out of the bedroom earlier. Picking it up and throwing it on the bed, I pulled out my red cardigan sweater and a pair of black slacks. Anger and embarrassment flooded me. Robbins had been in my bedroom, in my closet.

Ready to get out of there as quickly as possible, I got dressed in a hurry. Reed had crossed a line. Robbins had crossed a line. Invasion of privacy would send anyone into a fit of rage, but with someone like me, it brought it to an entirely new level.

Throwing my bag and purse over my shoulder, I hurried down the hall to the elevators I’d seen last night. The ones I was assuming exited out into the lobby of the building.

"Emily." Reed called my name as I walked right past him without a word. "Emily, I'm sorry. I was just trying to be helpful, but I see now why you’re upset. I had no right to send Robbins to your place." His demeanor had changed from just a few minutes ago. He now sounded remorseful.

It was rude, and maybe even a little childish, but I ignored him. I pushed the button and waited for the elevator doors to open.

He sighed. "Please. Don't leave so upset. I'll give you a ride to work and we can talk on the way."

My chest felt heavy, like if I didn't say something soon, it would explode. I whirled around and asked him, "What would possess you to think it was okay to send Robbins to my apartment? Without my permission? Let him go through my things?" My voice reached a higher-than-normal level.

He sighed again, running his hands through his hair. For a minute, I almost felt bad for raising my voice, but then I just pictured Robbins in my place again and I saw red.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight. It was a mistake." His voice was low, cautious.

I turned around to face the elevators again, even angrier than before.

"Would you at least take the freight elevator and go out the rear entrance of the building? If you go out the front, you're going to be bombarded with paparazzi and reporters. Robbins said they're already crowding outside the lobby." He lowered his voice to almost an inaudible level, realizing what a mess this was for me.

Great. Just great.

I turned and stormed down the hall, toward the door we had come in last night.

"Robbins will take you down," he said as I walked away. "Just in case you run into any problems.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Robbins walking toward me. No matter what Reed said, I was angry with Robbins, too. No matter if he was following what Reed had told him or not, he should have known better.