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Dirty little tramp.

That was how he'd labeled me. That was how I'd thought of myself afterwards. He'd cut me deep, made me believe I was broken, flawed, and unlovable. I was lucky I had a good friend like Aubrey. She had no idea why Ben ended our relationship—a relationship everyone around us believed was headed towards marriage—but she let me stay with her for a few nights while I sobbed into multiple pints of ice cream.

No one knew the truth... no one but me, and Ben.

He breathed out, and suddenly, he was calm. “Fine. Say hello to your mother for me.”

I startled. “My mother?”

“You didn't hear yet?” Cocking his head, he shrugged. “She'll tell you soon enough.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Ben opened my door, speaking as he left. “If we'd gotten lunch, I would have told you. Bye, Maya.”

My mind went blank. From a distance I watched my ex-boyfriend leave my office, his shadow passing through my open blinds, until he was in the elevator.

What was that all about?

The shaking in my legs was so intense I stumbled over to my chair, managing to fall into it before I collapsed on my rug. “What the hell?” I whispered. Now I really had to talk to my mother. Right, the text I meant to send her. Opening my phone, I gazed with rising disbelief at the RingMe app that was still open.

Somehow, probably when I'd dropped my phone, my message to Conner had been sent.

Me: Keep my panties as a souvenir.

Conner: Dirty girl. Maybe I'll start a collection.

My lungs squeezed until all the air left my chest. Oh, shit. Did Ben see this when he picked it up? Panicking from the idea, I squirmed in my seat. I was trapped between disgust at my ex, and delight at Conner's proposal.

Putting my feet on the floor, I twisted my chair side to side. I needed to respond. But what to say?

Me: You've had those panties since Friday night. Why wait until now to tell me? Were you using them for your own filthy fun, then worried I'd ask for them back?

Conner: If I used them, would you say no to taking them back?

I blushed, thumbs hovering. He responded before I could.

Conner: Or maybe you love the idea of wearing a pair of your panties full of my cum.

“Fucking hell,” I whispered hoarsely. Lifting my head, I scanned my office, like I expected someone was spying on me. I was paranoid about how naughty this chat was getting.

Me: If you told me to wear them, I would.

Conner: I'll remember that.

“Maya!”

“Ah!” I jerked my head up, gawking at Aubrey as she eyeballed me through my open door. “What is it, what's wrong?” I asked, breathing heavily.

“Gibraldi group!” she hissed into her hand, pointing behind herself. I sat up so I could see through my window. Yup, there they were—a group of five men, all wearing nearly matching black suits, all filing into the conference room.

“Why didn't you remind me?” I asked, standing quickly, sticking my phone in my bag. I snatched up my folder of marketing plans.

“I did!” she argued, stepping out of my way as I strode by. “Like, fifteen minutes ago! You were all angry at me about it, I thought you didn't need a new reminder!”

“It's okay, it's fine.” Calming myself, I slowed my stride. In my bag, my phone buzzed—Conner? Probably. “My head has been elsewhere today.”

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