“No, no, no,” I chanted as I shoved my feet into the first two shoes I found. They totally didn’t match, but I had a left shoe on my left foot and a right shoe on my right foot, so that was good enough for me. I tucked her panties in my pocket and raced for the door.

Okay, fine, I smelled them before slipping them out of sight. And they smelled exactly how I remembered her. My mouth watered, detecting the taste of her divine nectar. When my cock hardened, I muttered, “Stupid pecker.”

If my drunken hormones had just lost me my friendship with Zoey, I would never forgive myself.

I drove to her apartment. I didn’t even think. I just had to see her. Had to make sure she was okay.

Noel texted me on my way over. Twice. I ignored his messages until I parked in the parking garage of Zoey’s building. When I opened his message, I was reminded I was late for practice.

You’re coming to practice, right?

I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to think about football right now. And I didn’t particularly want to see Ten, who would be there.

Man, you HAVE to come to practice, Noel wrote in his next text. Coach won’t let you start the next game if you don’t.

A minute later, he tried again. Ten just covered for you. He fed coach a big lie about how sick you are.

Good. Ten better have covered for me. He owed me that much at least. I had thought Noel would leave me alone then, but he didn’t.

You’re going to forgive him, right? It’s TEN! You HAVE to forgive him. The guy’s driving me nuts with how worried he is.

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“Yeah, and you’re driving me nuts,” I muttered aloud, finally punching in my response. It felt strange to type a curse word, but I didn’t regret it in the least. Did you fuck Cora too?

Noel’s response was immediate. WHAT? NO! GOD no.

That was all I needed to see. I shut my phone off and slid it into my pocket, the same pocket with Zoey’s panties. The soft cotton brushed against my knuckles and I shuddered, remembering when I’d slid them down her legs and had my first look at her completely naked.

I looked up just in time to see Terrance opening the door to her building. When Zoey stepped outside, I sucked in a breath and climbed from my truck. She was so beautiful. I still couldn’t believe I’d been inside her just hours ago. I’d seen her naked and touched her. Licked her. Loved every freaking inch of her. My hormones buzzed with awareness, even as I shook my head, unable to believe we’d actually done everything we’d done.

She wore her hair down this morning, which worried me since she was always big on ponytails. Plus she had on her glasses, which she never wore when she left her apartment. The wind blew her hair in her face and she pushed it out of her eyes in her usual Zoey way. My chest filled with pressure, with possessiveness. She was mine. Only I had ever done to her the things we’d done last night. As wrong as I knew I was for sleeping with her only hours after breaking up with her best friend, I couldn’t stop the perverse satisfaction that bubbled up my throat. No matter what happened, a part of her would always belong to me. I’d been her first.

As if feeling my eyes on her—I loved how she seemed to know I was watching her—she looked over and saw me. She slowed to a stop, so I stepped away from my truck to go to her. Her lips parted and her eyes widened. I couldn’t tell if she was happy or horrified to see me. But I was about to find out. I had to talk to her.

It was impossible to take my eyes off her; that was probably why I completely missed who exited the door behind her.

“Quinn?” Cora’s voice stopped me cold in my tracks.

I met my ex-girlfriend’s gaze and panicked. Crap, why hadn’t I even thought about her when I’d raced over here?

Hope sparked across her face. I gritted my teeth and shook my head. Slinking a step back, I scowled at Cora.

She began to rush toward me, but I couldn’t talk to her. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I spun around and hurried off, slamming my door in my hurry to escape.

Cora reached my truck about the time I cranked the engine. She tried to open the door, but I’d already locked it. Scowling at me, she pounded on the window.

“Quinn. Damn it, talk to me.”

My head was still swimming with all the filthy words I’d read on her phone, every intimate detail she’d written to other men, so I did something I’d never done before. I flipped her off and gunned the gas, backing out of my spot.

Mad because she’d tried to talk to me, because she’d prevented me from checking on Zoey, because she was still breathing, I drove blindly for a couple minutes, until I realized I needed a destination. I needed a plan. But I didn’t know where to go or what to do.




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