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Wyatt and I just became more than friends.

The realization doesn’t hit as hard as it should. I think I’m too keyed up. Too distracted by the beautiful man with theverylarge bulge who’s still on top of me.

“I don’t think anyone could ever regret kissing you.”

“I’m good”—his mouth quirks up on one side—“but I’m not that good.”

I touch my fingertip to his lips. “I call your bluff.”

“You are the expert now.” He nips at my finger. “You still wanna do this when you wake up tomorrow, then we’ll do it.But right now, I’m takin’ you back to your mama and daddy’s house.”

“I’m gonna want to do it, Wy.”

“Everybody wants to do it.” He straightens, sitting up on his knees. He holds out his hand. “But it’s not always the right thing. You said you wanted me to teach you. Consider this part of the lesson.”

I take his hand and he twines our fingers. He helps me sit up, and then he pulls down my dress, smoothing it over my legs. The tenderness of the gesture makes my chest hurt.

“Wy?”

He grunts when he falls onto the bench on the driver’s side. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For the raging case of blue balls.”

He lets out a big, booming laugh as he puts a hand on the gearshift. “Sugar, you got no idea the kinda hurt you’re puttin’ on me right now. I could chop wood with this thing.” He gestures to his lap.

I lick my lips. “You could always teach me how to take care of it.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Joke around like that.” His eyes are dark when they meet mine. “It’s like you want me to come in my pants.”

I bite my lip. “Whatever you say, Daddy.”

I expect him to laugh. Call me out on being a shameless dork. Instead, he blinks, nostrils flaring, and then his entire body jerks.

“Fuck,” he bites out, covering his crotch with his hand.

I stare at him. “Wait. Did you actually?—”

“Just come in my pants?” He grimaces. “Yes.”

My turn to blink. I’m not sure what to make of this. Is it acompliment that I made him lose it like that? Or did I just embarrass him?

I don’t know what to say. “I’m…sorry?”

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Not your fault I was so turned on.” He lets out a breath, and my heart takes a tumble when I see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Actually, it’s totally your fault. I wanna hate you for it?—”

“But you don’t.” I smile.

He grins. “Nah, Sunshine, I don’t.”

“Are you really not okay?”