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The big issue hovers around us–the fact I’m leaving in a week and even if I wasn’t, he has a career in his future and back-ups and I’m not part of either of those. So I do the thing that started this all: I kiss him.

Reid’s alarmgoes off a lot sooner than either of us would like. After a weekend off, Coach Bryant calls for an early practice, in preparation for the playoffs. Reid is gone by daybreak, but not before his hands, and his cock, find me again. I love how he handles me. Firm, like he knows I can take it. I’ve spent a lifetime being treated like I’m fragile and the way he pulls me to him, the way heentersme. I’m still feeling it long after he’s left the bed.

I’m also left with the weird knowledge that I’m no longer a virgin and despite all those years of hearing about it being so special and sacred, something for only me and the man that chose me, nothing seems very different, other than the urge to do it again.

Is that what happens? You become consumed? Because yeah, I feel consumed.

The door clicks shut downstairs and I take a minute in the bathroom before heading downstairs. Twyler has just walked in, key in hand.

“Hey.” I’m surprised to see her.

“Sorry to just barge in, but I saw Reid on the way out and he said it was cool.”

“Oh?” I nod. “I just got up.”

“I realized halfway to campus I left my backpack here on Friday night.” She walks around the living room, past the empty tray of kolaches, searching for the backpack. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

We both enter the kitchen at the same time. We both see my leggings and underpants twisted up on the floor. I’m not experienced with the ins and outs of having a secret boyfriend,but even I know that the discarded clothing looks like one thing: sex.

My eyes draw up and the problem with Twyler is she has these big, blue, beautiful eyes that hide nothing. So it’s obvious right away that she knows. And while my heart lodges in my throat, making me unable to speak, it’s clear.Sheknows thatIknow thatsheknows.

I snatch them quickly off the ground and sputter, “These must have fallen out of the basket when I was doing laundry.”

“Sure,” she says, shifting awkwardly on her feet. “Laundry.”

I don’t speak. Because what would I say? Nadia is her best friend. And Axel is Nadia’s boyfriend. And Axel can never. Ever. Know.

But I also need to talk to someone about it, because all of this is big. Really big.

“Reid and I are…” I don’t have the word. What are we doing? Nadia would have the word. Hooking up? On the down-low? Friends with Benefits? “Close.”

“Okay,” she says, seemingly okay with just that information. “How long has this been going on?”

“For a few weeks, I guess.” I ball the leggings up and clutch them against my stomach. “Axel doesn’t know. Hecan’tknow.”

“God no.” She barks out a laugh. “Absolutely not.”

That reaction makes me feel both better and worse.

“So you two?” she asks, eyes darting to the leggings.

“Yes,” I admit.

“Okay, wow.” I can see the wheels turning as she processes it. “He’s your first?”

“Yes.” I swallow. “Last night.”

Her jaw drops. “Tell me he didn’t do it here. In the kitchen! I swear to god, I will castrate him–”

“No! No, not here. In the bedroom. His bedroom, on a real bed, not the couch in the porch.” I glance over to the counter. “Down here was just…”

“Ah. Foreplay.”

“I guess.”

She nods, still clearly absorbing everything while occasionally saying, “Okay, wow. Wow. Okay.” Finally, she leans her hip against the kitchen table. “And it was good? You’re good?”

“It was great.” I don’t even fight the grin. “Both times.”