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Sawyer hadn’t been exaggerating—theunknownwasterrifying. It had Coy tossing and turning for the next two nights. On Tuesday, she crawled out of bed at a quarter to five in the morning, finally giving up on any sort of rest. Her limbs were dead weights, and she staggered from the bathroom to the kitchen like she’d binged watchedThe Walking Deadfor a week straight.

Sloane was still passed out in her bedroom, having worked the night before, so Coy tried her best to be quiet as she rummaged around the kitchen for the new pack of coffee filters. She couldn’t stop rubbing her eyes as she spooned the coffee into the maker, and when she reached for the jug of milk for her cereal, it slipped out of her hands and dropped on her foot.

Coy inhaled sharply, muttering curse words as she hopped around on one foot until the throbbing pain passed. Today wasgoing to be a shit show—she just knew it. It was like she was blessed with knowing the future. To make matters worse, she hobbled to where her bowl of Fruit Loops sat beside the coffee maker to witness the hot liquid percolating all over the counter. “Why? Just why?” she hissed, throwing her hands in the air and glaring at her ceiling like she was asking some higher power.

How was she supposed to go through with tonight when she couldn’t even brew a cup of fucking coffee? Frankie was going to chew her up and spit her out.

Groaning, Coy unplugged the maker and tossed a towel over the mess. She poured milk into her cereal and left the uncapped jug on the counter, wandering into the living room to claim the recliner that had been meant for her dad. It was comfortable, with overstuffed armrests and a cup holder on either side. She didn’t know why her father hadn’t wanted it; it was perfect for watching the game. Coy dug into her cereal, unlocking her phone and setting it on the armrest. She scrolled Instagram as she ate, softening as she saw the new posts Abi had put up of her and Tess. They really were a remarkable couple, and so in love, Coy bet a blind person would be able to feel their chemistry. Coy had spent most of her life determined she didn’t want that. Now, she wasn’t certain of anything but how being around Sawyer made her feel.

And Sloane can’t even see it, see that this is different.

In the two days since their lunch, Coy had successfully chipped away a little more of Sawyer’s armor. Even minuscule amounts were wins in Coy’s eyes. They had texted periodically throughout the day yesterday, and then when she’d gone to Sawyer’s house in the evening to work, Sawyer had come out to the garage. She’d brought with her the supper Bree had cooked, and then they’d just … talked. About work on the McLaren, but also about personal stuff. Sawyer seemed to prefer learning about Coy rather than talking about herself, but Coy got the feeling she waslonely. Sawyer seemed different since she’d come home from the hospital. Not depressed exactly, but almost like she didn’t know what to do with herself if she wasn’t working.

A direct message from Abi popped up on her Instagram, and Coy was already grinning as she clicked into it.

Abi: Miss your face! Can’t sleep?

Coy: Miss yours more, beautiful. And no. AND I ruined my coffee. FML.

Abi: That’s the worst! One day I’ll upgrade you to De'Longhi. It’s an espresso machine, and like, sex in caffeine form.

Coy: LOL. Not sure what that says about Tess’s skills, but I’ll be sure to bring it up when I see you guys next.

Abi: Don’t you dare. Tess is AMAZING in bed.

Coy: Haha. Srsly miss you Abs. You coming to the party this weekend?

It was hers and Sloane’s annual summer celebration this weekend. They hosted at their apartment and invited way more people than was probably up to code, but so far, they’d only been shut down once by the police. Usually, the few neighbors in their building were understanding, and it wasn’t like they partied every weekend.

Abi: You bet. I’ve even convinced Tess to come, so long as she doesn’t back out at the last minute.

Coy smirked at that. Tess was so shy, it surprised Coy that the barber had the guts to pull off organizing her sister’s pre-wedding, weeklong activities the year before. Not to mention sneaking around with Abi in the middle of it all.

Coy: Remind her how sexy you thought she was when she helped you over the bridge at the waterfall. Boost her confidence.

Abi: Thatwassexy. Shit, I think she’s awake. I wanted to give her a special wake up call. Gotta run, playgirl xxo

Coy laughed, shaking her head but typed out her exit message as well before closing the app. Abi’s happiness had been a long time coming. Glancing across the apartment at the mess on the kitchen counter, Coy groaned at the thought of having to clean it up. She’d no doubt need to brace herself for the day ahead.

When Coy stepped into the pub late that evening, her hands were already shaky as she headed straight to the bar. Sloane and another worker, Andy, were working, and as Coy approached, her twin’s all-knowing gaze was already turning away to reach for the bottle of Jacks. “She’s upstairs waiting. Still think you’re gonna win the bet?”

“Damn straight I do.” Coy nodded, believing it. She had to win, or else it meant she hadn’t changed. And for once, she truly wanted that not to be true. More than ever, she wanted what so many of her friends had.

Sloane poured out two shots and slid one to Coy. “Well, I’m proud of you.”

“If you were proud of me, you wouldn’t have made that fucking bet,” Coy muttered, raising the shot glass.

Sloane raised hers as well, arching one eyebrow as she clinked the glass against Coy’s. “Being proud of you for trying isn’t the same as accepting that you’ll probably never change, Coy.”

“To me it is, but that’s okay. I’ll prove it to you.” Coy tossed the shot back the same time as Sloane, and the liquor burned going down. She absently rolled the rim of the shot glass betweenher thumb and forefinger before setting it down on the counter. Taking a breath and then another, as if the extra oxygen and puffing of her chest would give her the courage she needed, Coy added, “See you soon, Sloane.”

Sloane fist-bumped her without hesitation, then left to take care of another patron. Coy turned toward the back stairs that led to Frankie’s apartment above the bar. As she made her way up, the significance of what she was doing wasn’t lost on Coy. She was about to cut off her only tie into the BDSM lifestyle. Not even Naz was into the more involved kink, and Naz was usually game for anything. Coy had always been too insecure to attend the kink parties in the city by herself, and then she’d lucked out finding Frankie.

Coy reached the door to Frankie’s apartment and, not for the first time that night, she hesitated. What if she never felt the fulfillment she got as a sub again? What if chasing Sawyer turned out to be pointless, and Coy was busily rearranging her life for nothing?

What if Sloane is right and I come crawling back to Frankie a week, a month from now?

“Come in.”