Page 53

SOFIA

Jordan and I go to a local pottery class. This, I’m much better at than the pole dancing or the knitting videos we tried to learn from a few weeks ago. Something about just getting my hands onto something and using my instincts to create art feels natural.

It’s close enough to my editing work that I feel somewhat confident. Not that confidence makes me produce anything someone would buy—other than maybe my mother. But it’s fun, and I get to take out some of my anxiety and burnout on the lump of clay.

Not that I don’t have other ways of working out my frustrations, but time and opportunity seem to be at play here.

Jordan knocks her shoulder into mine, and my wobbling vase falls completely on the wheel. We both laugh.

“You have to share details about the lumberjack. I know you’ve been over there a lot. Please tell me more has happened.” Her dark eyes are begging me for something juicy.

I’m glad she’s speaking in code out in public. Anyone who may have seen me with Braxton, Orion, or Cedric might catchon eventually, but stories are about the details, so I simply won’t give the telling ones here. “Something more has happened.”

I wiggle in my seat and smash my clay back into a lump to begin again.

She gasps in mock shock. “Did he throw you over his shoulder and take you to bed?”

“Not over his shoulder, but he did manage to carry me up the stairs.” My eyes widen at the implication. I’m not a delicate flower. It takes real power to carry me up those eight steps. Braxton did it without any outward strain.

Her eyes go wide and sultry. “Oh, did he…”

I bite my lip to hide my grin. He was sexy and romantic and more than eager to enjoy every part of me. So completely different, but no less intense than Cedric or Orion. God, the three of them get past my boundaries in different ways.

I’ve never been so relaxed and satisfied.

“Oh, my God, you are holding back on me.” Jordan leans in. “I know about Golden Boy, but the Task Master… I’ve seen the footage and how he looks at you.”

My friend mimes swinging a whip, providing the sound effect, too.

I can feel my face burning hot, and Jordan pumps a dirty fist in the air, splattering someone next to her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The easy way she disarms conflict makes me jealous. I’m usually too stern or too silly. “I’ve just learned that my new best friend is exploringallof her options, and I’m pumped. You know?”

The middle-aged woman laughs. “Do it while you’re young before life gets in the way.”

I’m ducking my head a little. I’ve only slept with two guys before I somehow stumbled into a trio. I worry the inside of my cheek over the fact that I’m not really in a relationship with anyof them. No one has mentioned exclusivity, but somehow, the speed with which we’ve each fallen together makes me feel… off.

Not exactly like I’m wrong, but like I should be more honest with them.

“Oh, no, what is that face all about?”

I lift my gaze to meet Jordan’s. Most of her silliness has bled away, and I sigh. “Just had a serious thought is all. You know, about being a respectful adult.”

“Mmm.” She digs her thumb into her lump of clay and makes the wheel spin. “Respect is important, but also, don’t throw a bomb into the fun while it’s still just fun. I mean, I know for some, sex can’t just be fun. From our talks, I think you’re on the fence with that. Let it come up naturally so that everything else has room to build.”

My shoulders slump, the tension releasing. She’s right, of course. If I jump on this now—tell them about each other—I’ll just ruin everything. They all enjoy my company for sure, and vice versa, but I’m not ready to rule anyone out yet.

I build a new vase between my hands. “I think you’re right.”

Jordan grins, back in fun mode. “Of course I’m right. Besides, we havesomany details to cover before you’re allowed to get sappy on me.”

Mood lightening, I lower my voice and give her every juicy, non-incriminating detail possible. It draws in the older ladies around us, and we devolve into the dirtiest and silliest and somehow most serious conversation I’ve ever had with a group of strangers.

We don’t feel so much like strangers by the time Jordan and I leave the place. Our shoulders keep bumping into each other as we walk and giggle our way back to campus. But I swear, the moment my feet hit the sidewalk at the edge of campus grounds—the one by my favorite café—an alarm must go off on Orion’sphone because he’s striding toward me with a purpose, slow and confident.

Jordan grabs my arm with a tight squeeze. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

And she’s backing away, waving her goodbyes before I can even respond.