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‘Oh God!’ I yelp, throwing my head back when Gregory cups my breast. I’m squirming beneath him, my whole being tingling with fevered shots of desperate pleasure. Our mouths quickly find each other again and my hand starts venturing downward until I have his hard, hot length in my grasp.

‘Holy shit!’ he barks, his h*ps bucking forward, prompting a full stroke down his shaft. ‘Oooooh shit.’

Pleasure-filled noises are drowning the room. We’re lost. Gregory pulls back and gazes down at me, his brow shimmering in sweat, his breath spreading across my heated face.

‘Do that again,’ he breathes, pushing his h*ps forward.

I pull an even swipe of my palm down his hardness and he draws an uneven breath. His head drops briefly, only for a second, before he lifts again and falls back to my lips, swirling his tongue through my mouth. It shouldn’t, but this feels nice. I’m focused only on my best friend kissing me, his hands feeling me, and his body pushed against mine.

‘You taste like strawberries,’ he whispers hoarsely.

Strawberries.

The word hits me like a sledgehammer, and I’m suddenly dropping him from my grasp and wriggling beneath him. ‘Greg, stop!’

He freezes, pulling back to look down at me. ‘Are you okay?’

‘No! We should stop.’ I scramble up and pull the sheets over me, covering my na**d body, feeling ashamed . . . guilty. ‘What are we thinking?’

Gregory sits up and rubs his palms frantically over his face, groaning, but now it’s in regret. ‘I don’t know,’ he admits. ‘I wasn’t thinking, Livy.’

‘Me neither.’ I meet his eyes, pulling the protective sheeting closer, while Gregory remains uncovered and quite unbothered by it. He’s still . . . ready . . . and I try to divert my eyes anywhere except at the hard length of muscle jutting from his lap. It’s difficult. It’s like a magnet to my eyes. I’ve never allowed myself to look at my g*y friend like this, but when he’s totally exposed and looking so ripped, it’s impossible. He’s everything a man could ask for, and a woman, for that matter. He’s hot, so kind, and totally genuine. But he’s my best friend. I can’t lose him to the awkwardness that will descend if we continue – if it’s not too late already. But that isn’t the only reason. No man could ever fill the gaping hole in my heart, nor could they sate my desire. Only one man can do that.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say quietly, guilt consuming me. I don’t know why. I have nothing to feel remorseful for, except for jeopardising my friendship with Gregory. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Hey’ – he pulls me onto his lap and squeezes me – ‘I’m sorry, too. I think we both got a little carried away.’

I snuggle deep, searching for the comfort I need. It’s nowhere to be found. ‘It was my fault.’

‘No, I instigated that. It’s my fault.’

‘I beg to differ,’ I whisper, letting him attempt to rub some life back into me.

The rise and fall of his chest under me indicates his heavy sigh. ‘What a pair,’ he muses. ‘A couple of sad-arse losers pining after something we can’t have.’

I nod my agreement. ‘You won’t go off and screw another woman, will you?’ I ask, knowing it’s what generally happens when he’s dumped by a bloke and probably why things went too far just now. ‘I don’t want you to do that.’

‘I’m swearing off men and women for a while.’ He chuckles, making me smile a little.

‘Me too.’

‘So you’re basically returning to reclusive, then?’ he quips lightly.

‘Look where being the alternative has got me.’

‘Not all men are like that cocksucker.’ He pulls me from his chest and clenches my cheeks fiercely. ‘Not every man will shit all over you, baby girl.’

‘I’m not going to give them the chance.’

‘I hate seeing you like this.’

‘I hate seeing you like this,’ I counter, his anguish suddenly very obvious and real, now that the information has filtered through my fuzz of misery. ‘And I’m stealing “cocksucker” to use for Ben, because he really is a cocksucker, even if he won’t admit it.’

Gregory smiles, his eyes twinkling. ‘That’s fine by me.’

I nod my approval and let my eyes wander down to Gregory’s lap. He starts laughing and quickly snatches the sheet to cover himself, leaving me stark naked. I gasp and yank it back, and so a wrestling match with the sheets begins. We’re both laughing, pulling back and forth, our earlier ease as friends fully restored . . . even if we’re now both naked. Not that either of us seem bothered as we battle for possession of the sheets.

But we both freeze when the sound of creaking floorboards muscles in on the happy laughter, and then Nan’s curious voice creeps through the door. ‘Gregory, Olivia? What’s going on in there?’

‘Oh shit!’ I blurt, jumping up from the bed and sprinting across the room. I flatten my na**d front against the door. ‘Nothing, Nan!’

‘It sounds like a herd of elephants are doing the cancan up here.’

‘We’re fine!’ I squeak, my forehead hitting the door, my eyes clenching shut as I tense and brace myself for a counter-attack.

‘Well, you sound like you’re coming through the ceiling!’

‘Sorry. We’re on our way down.’

‘We’re off to the dance now.’

‘Have a nice time!’