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Kota

Y ou know what sucked? Not being able to tell your best friend about some of the best sex you ever had.

You know what sucked even more? Spending seventy-two hours straight with your best friend while you struggled to stop thinking about some of the best sex you ever had.

I was currently in that boat.

We were in Chicago, surrounded by beautiful buildings, tourist attractions, and shopping, yet my mind was currently back at Cedar.

Well, it was specifically back in Crew’s car.

Every time I finally got myself to stop thinking about him, within an hour or two, he somehow managed to invade my thoughts again like an army of termites in a rotting cabin.

“This is cute, right?” Bridget asked, holding up a baby-blue sundress.

I glanced up from the rack of crop tops I’d been looking through. “Yeah, cute,” I said. “What would you wear it for?”

A light, pink glow encompassed her cheeks as her gaze dropped to the dress. “I don’t know.”

Seemed like she did know.

I was about to press her on it until a silky red top grazed over my fingertips, the same color as the dress that Crew ripped off me.

Motherfucker.

Bridget had mentioned the boys decided to take a last-minute trip to Colorado. I assumed they’d be going out at some point, which led me to also assume Crew wouldn’t be going home alone.

But why did that thought kind of sting a little bit?

Within seconds, my phone was in my hand, and my fingers were angrily typing away.

Me: I hate you.

But the second I hit send, I wasn’t sure if I was texting that to him to remind him or to try to remind myself.

Crew: Thanks for enlightening me. Again.

Me: You’re welcome.

Crew: Having fun in Chi?

I squinted at the phone. Was he trying to be nice and conversational or was this some sort of trap?

Me: Yup

Crew: I wish you weren’t. I want you to have a terrible time

“Why’re you smiling at your phone like that?”

My head shot up. “What?”

Bridget stepped towards me vigilantly, blue dress still in hand. The corners of her lips were puckered like she was trying to fight a smile. “Are you texting a boy?”

I dropped my phone by my side. “Ew, no! You know I hate boys!”

Her mischievous glare bore into me, studying my every feature to read me as well as possible, causing my heart to palpitate.

This better not be the moment she finds out.

Bridget slightly jumped, reaching into her back pocket to retrieve her own phone, the roses in her cheeks getting brighter with each passing second.

Swiftly, I turned my back to her and separated myself with a few steps.

She was acting just as strange as I was, but digging would cause her to do the same, and with the ugly truth I was hiding, I couldn’t afford that.

Me: You’re an asshole

Crew: I don’t remember you calling me that the other night

Me: Shut your mouth

Crew: You should learn how to shut yours. You know you get real loud?

Was he referring to my rambunctious personality or to having sex with me?

Considering sex was one of the few topics associated with Nicholas Crew, ranked right alongside hockey, I assumed it was the latter.

Me: Are you trying to flirt with me right now?

Crew: Hell no

Me: Good

Because I hate you

When I didn’t get another lightning-fast response, I slid my phone back into my purse and pretended like it didn’t bother me.