He had no idea how long he had been sitting there letting the rain pour down on him. His shirt was soaked, his jeans were sticking to him. Minutes, hours, who knew? He had thrown the covers off himself nearly eight hours earlier and gotten into his truck. He was mad, he was furious, he was sad, he was lost, he was fearful, and he was every damned emotion he had ever experienced. He drove through the early morning into New York, knowing that he was going to end this game he had been playing with her. He was going to say every single thing they had spent years not saying. He found parking in a nearby hotel garage and stomped on the pavement, rain spouting up around his black work boots. Every damned word they had not said. When they had kissed the first time. When he had spent weeks and months being careful to never be alone with his best friend’s little sister afterward. Words never said when they happened to catch each other staring, and the small second of eye contact before a reluctant break and they each returned their attention to the world. Words they never said the night they made love. Words they never said when she showed up madder than hell at him in that little red dress. All the words scattered and screaming inside his mind.