"Shit." Phoenix thrust his hand through his hair.

"She's not buying it," Tarik explained, although the words didn't help Phoenix feel any better. He wanted to see her. Talk to her himself. Make sure she really was all right.

"So what now?"

"Let's grab something to eat," Tarik said, getting to his feet.

Tarik closed the gap between them and surprised Phoenix when he kissed him.

"Food, huh?" Phoenix asked when he felt something inside him release. Tarik's ability to calm him wasn't surprising. Not after all that had transpired between them over the last few weeks.

"Yep. And then we'll figure out what the next step is."

With a nod, Phoenix figured what the hell. He couldn't fix the world at the moment.

Didn't mean he wasn't going to come up with a plan to make it right. But first, he had to eat.

MIA SAT AT her mother's kitchen table, her hand wrapped around a coffee mug while she watched Clarice Cantrell read the article that Mia had seen that morning.

"This is..." Clarice's ice-blue eyes came up to meet Mia's.

"I know. It's ridiculous, Mom."

"Well, yes. That's a given. Not unexpected, because this is Damien we're talking about here," Clarice said, her eyes lowering to the screen once more.

It was no secret that her mother didn't like Damien. The feeling had always been mutual, but Mia suspected that was because Damien thought everyone should like him. Mia had always been caught in the middle.

Not anymore.

"What I want to know is what you're doing with this man," Clarice said, raising the screen to show her the picture of her and Phoenix where they'd been captured at the Mexican restaurant. It looked incredibly intimate, the way Phoenix was cupping her face, his expression serious as he stared down at her. She was surprised her mother had focused on that image and not the one of her holding hands with two men. Not that she was going to bring it up.

"His name's Phoenix, Mom," Mia told her, taking a sip of her coffee.

"And you're only friends, right?" The disbelief in her mother's tone told her she was going to have an argument on her hands if she tried to go that route.

Mia smiled. Her mother knew her so well. Or she thought she did, anyway. "It might be a little more than friends," Mia admitted.

Clarice's eyes widened. "Mia, please don't tell me you're gonna get caught up in this lifestyle again."

Setting her coffee cup on the table a little harder than she should have, Mia took a deep breath. "Mom, I'm twenty-four years old. Keep that in mind before you grill me on what I'm doing in my personal life."

"Yes, well, twenty-four or not, you're still my daughter. I had to sit back and watch Damien ruin your life."

"He didn't ruin it," Mia said defensively. "Not entirely." No, he'd merely shattered her heart, but that was all behind her now. "Regardless, I've grown up since then. Learned my lesson."

Clarice cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow before glancing down at the screen once more. "What if there is some truth to this? What if this Phoenix guy actually did set this all in motion?"

"Mom, seriously!" Mia exclaimed. "This is Damien we're talking about. The man doesn't know how to tell the truth."

"Maybe so, but listen to me for a minute. What if this Phoenix really is using you?"

"He's not," she assured her.

"And how do you know?"

Mia wasn't about to tell her mother the details of what had transpired between her and Phoenix, or her and Tarik. She knew better. Clarice, ever the overprotective mother, would only hear what she wanted to, anyway. No matter how frustrated her mother made her, Mia knew it was only out of love that her mother worried.

"He's not," Mia said, keeping her tone calm. "We're just ... dating. It's not serious."

Her mother's eyes raked over her face, and Mia wondered whether or not she could tell she was lying. It was serious. Maybe not for Phoenix. Maybe not for Tarik. But for Mia, it was as serious as it could get. It was the sole reason she'd stayed away from them for an entire week, trying to put some distance there so she could think.

She'd been down the disastrous marriage road already. She had no intentions of doing that again. The problem was, she felt herself falling for both of them. Hard. And the worst part about it was she knew, without a doubt, that she would not survive another round of heartache. Not at their hands.

"Mia, I can't help but feel we've had this conversation before. I only want you to be careful," her mother said soothingly.

"I will. I promise." Needing to change the subject, Mia turned the question on her mother. "Now when are you going to tell me about your new boyfriend?"

Clarice's face went white, and she got up from the table, heading toward the coffeepot. Mia watched her carefully, trying to keep from smiling. Her mother clearly didn't like when the tables were turned and she was the one in the hot seat.

"I... What are you talking about? I don't have a boyfriend."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Mia offered with a grin.

She didn't know for a fact that her mother was seeing someone, but she had a good idea. After their holiday vacation, she had been pretty positive her mother was seeing someone but didn't want her to know. The way she responded now only cemented that suspicion.

"I'm not lying," Clarice declared, but Mia noticed she still wasn't looking at her.

"Mom, seriously. It's okay."

Her mother turned around, holding her coffee cup in her hands as she peered across the kitchen at Mia. Her blue eyes reflected her doubt as she asked, "Is it?"

Mia returned her cup to the table and got up, crossing the room to stand in front of her mother. "Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Your father..." Clarice began.

"Has been gone a long time, Mom. He wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life alone. You know that."

Her mother's watery gaze lifted to hers. "He's a nice guy. I really think you'll like him."

Mia smiled, her heart warming at the thought of her mother finding someone who made her happy. It was all anyone ever wanted. The fact that Clarice had spent the last fourteen years mourning the loss of the man she'd loved with her whole heart told Mia just how deeply her mother's love went.

"Come. Sit. You can tell me all about him, starting with his name."

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" Phoenix asked the caller on the other end of the line.

Tarik pulled the Escalade into the condominiums parking garage, wondering who was important enough for him to pick up the phone at this point in the day.

"Are you coming home?"

Easing into the parking spot that was reserved for Phoenix, Tarik left the SUV running. Something told him his evening wasn't going to end yet. As it was, they'd spent the better part of the afternoon fucking around to pass the time, both of them anxiously waiting to hear from Mia and disappointed that they hadn't.

"Can we come pick you up?"

Tarik glanced over at Phoenix, who was now looking at him intently. Okay, so maybe they had heard from her. Phoenix wouldn't have made the offer to just anyone.

"Okay. Text me the address. We'll be there in a few."

When Phoenix stabbed the end button on his phone, Tarik had already put the pieces of the puzzle together. "Mia?"

"Yeah. She's at her friend Alex's house."

Putting the gear shift in reverse, Tarik backed out of the spot and aimed the SUV for the exit. No reason to stall; he'd heard Phoenix's end of the call. Less than a minute later, Phoenix had entered the address into his phone's navigation, giving Tarik instructions on which direction to head, and they were on their way.

"She sound okay?" Tarik asked, glancing over at Phoenix as he drove.

"Yeah. A little intoxicated, but yeah." The smile in Phoenix's tone made Tarik feel better.

Ever since Mia had informed him that she was going to her mother's, he'd been worried. Part of him had suspected she was blowing them off. He knew throughout their afternoon that Phoenix had been on a nervous edge as well, but he had tried his best not to show it. Tarik knew him better than that. Phoenix's relief was evident now as they headed toward the answers to the millions of questions they'd had throughout the day.

Fifteen minutes later, Tarik drove past the security gate of the upper-crust neighborhood after entering a code that Mia provided them in a text and followed the directions to the address she had given them.

When they pulled into the circular drive, the porch lights were on as well as the landscape lighting that accentuated the well-maintained lawn. The neighborhood reminded Tarik a lot of the one Sid had lived in. Each house bigger than the next, every yard looked as though someone spent eight hours a day manually clipping each blade of grass so that everything was neat and tidy.

Once parked, Tarik exited the Escalade and led the way to the front door, hitting the button for the bell and taking a step back.

They were greeted by the same man who'd taken Mia to the charity ball, Johnathan Henry.

"John," he greeted, announcing his name as he held out his hand and took a step back, allowing them entry into the house. "Nice to meet you."

Tarik and Phoenix both returned the gesture, introducing themselves.

"She's a little intoxicated," Johnathan said as he closed the door behind them and then led the way through the lavish entry, down a few steps into another expansive room, and then on a trek through what had to be half the house before they found Mia sitting on a chocolate-brown sectional sofa in another sunken room, looking up at them with a glowing smile on her face.

Only then did the choke chain that had pierced his heart earlier that day let loose.

"Hi." Mia's smile widened, her eyes glassy from the alcohol. "Sit. Stay a while. Johnathan's a big fan. He loves the Austin Arrows. Won't stop talking about them," Mia slurred.

Tarik shot a glance at Johnathan to find the man shaking his head. Clearly he'd been dealing with Mia's inebriated state for a while now.

"Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Beer?"

"A beer would be good," Phoenix stated as he headed across the room to join Mia on the sofa.

"You?" Johnathan asked him.

"Nothing for me. Thanks." Tarik wanted all his faculties about him tonight.

Johnathan disappeared in the opposite direction.

"You okay?" Phoenix asked Mia when he lowered himself down beside her.

Tarik worked his way around the coffee table and joined them, sitting on Mia's other side.

"I am now," she said sweetly, looking up at Phoenix with wide, hopeful eyes before sliding her gaze to Tarik.

"Hey." A bright, cheerful voice sounded from behind him, and Tarik twisted to see the woman from the charity ball coming to join them, a bottle of wine in her hands. "So glad you could make it. She's been missing you."

Tarik wondered for a moment which one of them she was talking to. Had Mia told her friend that she was sleeping with both of them? That they were sleeping with one another?

"Alexandra Henry, but my friends call me Alex," she greeted formally when she approached, holding out a dainty hand. Tarik shook her hand, surprised at how firm her grip was. No limp wrist for this one.

"Tarik," he stated before she reached over and shook Phoenix's hand.

"Well, I can tell you that your girl's in a mood tonight."

Tarik met Alex's silver gaze, realizing she was looking at him now. What had Mia told her?

Johnathan returned with two beers, and after handing one over to Phoenix, he joined his wife on the sofa.

"You have a very beautiful house," Phoenix said, apparently trying to start a conversation. "What is it that you do?"

"He's a plastic surgeon," Alex said proudly.

"And you?" Phoenix questioned Alex.

"Oh, you know, I do a little of this, a little of that. Mostly I volunteer my time with local hospitals and charities."

Tarik glanced down at Mia. She looked as though she was going to fall asleep. She had curled up between them both, one hand on each of their legs, her wine forgotten on the table.

"The team's been doing well this year," Johnathan prompted, his attention focused on Phoenix.

"Not too bad," Phoenix said with a smirk.

"I'm sorry about your father," Johnathan said kindly. "I'd actually had the pleasure of meeting him a time or two."

Phoenix nodded. Tarik had no idea what people were supposed to say to condolences of that nature. Luckily, Phoenix didn't have an issue with carrying a conversation with anyone, and he proved it, morphing into the topic of hockey.