“I know you don’t date.” Cole’s voice was barely above a whisper, almost lost as he spoke to the window. “I know that’s my fault.”
Protesting otherwise was a waste of time. They both knew he’d be lying.
Slowly, Brady eased back into traffic. “He didn’t need to threaten you,” he said, changing the subject again. “That crossed a line.”
“He’s just doing his job. At least he cares enough to watch your back.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
“I don’t think he’s wrong.”
Brady glanced over. Cole still stared out the window. “So you weretrying to get into my pants by saving me?”
He meant it as a joke, but Cole didn’t relax. He rubbed at his swollen knuckles, his pale skin glowing in the streetlight.
“You think I’m proud of how isolated you are? You think I get off knowing what you’ve turned your life into? I don’t. I’m not. As much as I want to, I don’t know this man you’ve become.”