wouldn’t let you fall.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” I try to pull my foot away, but he tightens his hold on it.

“Go out with me,” he murmurs, his intense brown eyes locking on mine.

“No.”

“Please?”

I laugh. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a brat.”

“I can behave sometimes.”

We both laugh because it’s not true.

“It wouldn’t be wise to date someone I’m tutoring.”

His eyes twinkle with mischief. “Technically you already broke the rules, Mia.”

“What? How?”

“Not only did we dance and have dinner, we also slept together.”

“Brayden!”

He laughs. “Well, you slept and I watched you, but close enough.”

“Creep.”

“I’ve been called worse.” He shrugs, continuing his massage on my foot, and I ignore the way it reminds me of Ashton and how much I miss him. “Say yes. It’s just dinner and we’ve already done that once.”

I open my mouth to answer, when the front door flings open, effectively making me choke on my words.

“You can only avoid me so long, MiMi,” Ashton booms from the doorway. “Did you get your period? I’ve seen you in bitch mode, but we always still hang—what the fuck?”

Her face blushes bright red, a guilty look marring her features, as she jerks her foot from Brayden’s grip. The way he tips his head up at me in greeting, a smug grin tugging at his lips, infuriates me.

Why?

Because Mia is mine.

My best friend.

Not his.

Yet she’s cozied up with him getting foot massages and can’t return a goddamn text.

Granted, said text was sent two minutes ago when I headed this way, but still.

Mia launches to her feet, rushing over to me. I’m not jealous, but I’m… something. Irrationally pissed. Hurt. Confused as to why I want to rip off Brayden’s head. Mostly perturbed she’s fraternizing with the enemy.

“I had a tutoring session,” she squeaks out.

I take in her disheveled state, the lingering scent of alcohol, and the food cartons everywhere.

“Yeah,” Brayden agrees as he stands. “She taught me lots and lots of things.”

Mia stands between us, sensing the storm brewing. I stare at him right over her head as he comes to stand behind her.

“She’s not interested in douchebags,” I grit out. “You’re wasting your time.”

“Apparently she is, because we’re going on a date Saturday night.”

Her head shakes. “He’s just riling you up, Ashton.”

“I asked. She hasn’t had a chance to say yes yet,” Brayden argues.

I narrow my eyes at this guy. Yes, he’s hot, but he’s also a major dick. With him towering over her with his soulless eyes and villain smile, he looks every bit the boogeyman who snuck into my girl’s apartment.

Not my girl.

I’m fucking gay.

Ignoring him, I bank on the fact that she and I have more history. That she’ll choose me over him. Turning my stare back on her, I say, “I thought we could talk. About the other night.”

It’s the last goddamn thing I want to talk about, but it’s my winning hand against Brayden and all his superiority.

I chance a look at him, pleased as fuck to find his brows furrowed. I flash him a triumphant look. I might be gay, but I’ll be damned if I let him steal my best friend away to do whatever it is douchebags like him do.

You know what they do…

The thought hits me hard in the gut.

Makes me think of another douchebag who I happened to run into at the pool earlier today.

“I, uh,” Mia stammers, stepping away from us to run her fingers through her messy hair. “We can’t be rude and make him leave just because we need to talk.”

“Fine,” I grumble. “Call me whenever you’re done entertaining assholes.”

I start to walk away, but she grabs my hand. “Ashton, wait.”

I’m pissed that she doesn’t send this guy packing. Just a few days ago, she hated the ground he walked on. Hell, it’s part of the reason we kissed in the first place. Now, he’s all chummy with her in her apartment. Makes no fucking sense.

“I’ll call you later,” Brayden says, walking over to her and hugging her.

“We’ll see you at the game,” Mia chirps cheerfully. “Drew asked us to come.”

Brayden straightens, his eyes widening in surprise. “Oh yeah? Then you really can’t get out of that date now.”

She laughs. “Go away.”

He gathers his stuff and then waves at her, ignoring me altogether. Soon, he’s gone and his suffocating presence is no longer choking me.

But with his absence brings the reality of my statement.

I thought we could talk. About the other night.

“Want something to drink?” Mia asks, her voice shaky.

“Since when do we do formal?” I grumble. I pull her over to me, hugging her. “Sorry for being a dick and avoiding you. I just… I don’t know what to think about what happened. Pretending it didn’t happen doesn’t make it go away.”

She stiffens in my arms, telling me everything I need to know.

She liked it.

Even after she messed around with Drew. Even after God knows what the fuck happened with Brayden.

What happened with us is plaguing her.

It’s plaguing me too.

She starts to pull away from our embrace, but I can’t let her go. There are a million things I want to say to her. To tell her it was confusing, but I can’t stop thinking about it. How I would try it again—without alcohol to blame—if I didn’t think it might further fracture our friendship. I’d like to tell her that seeing her with Brayden made me crazy fucking jealous, which makes me mad at myself.

I can’t tell her any of these things because my tongue won’t work.

“I’m sorry I pounced on you,” she murmurs, her breath hot through my T-shirt. “I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”

I close my eyes, remembering how spicy and sweet she tasted. How we desperately kissed as though we’d been starved for it. The way my dick was stone in my sweats. I’ve never once been turned on by a girl. Girls don’t do it for me. So why the fuck was I about to nut in my pants when

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