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Cody had known Shane since they were kids and was probably as close to being a best friend as anybody could be with Shane.

The guy was impossible in every way. Impossible to get to know, impossible to like, impossible to not like. He was a difficult person and had always rubbed Cody the wrong way. But Cody had never been able to shake him and loved him kind of like a brother. If he was ever in a jam, Shane would be his first call. No question.

Cody always figured Shane would have it easy, with that face of his. But nothing ever went right for that guy, even in the beginning. So it was nice to see him on kind of a roll, even if Cody was straight-up jealous as hell that not only did Shane have the face of a rugged supermodel, but he was now sporting a fit-as-fuck body that had girls soaking their panties at a glance.

He was hung over that morning, waiting for Jenna – Shane’s girlfriend – to make a pot of coffee before he dragged his ass back home. Shane had popped up fresh as a daisy (because of course he did) and left before sunrise, while he and Jenna hadn’t been able to move until well after eleven and they hadn’t heard so much as a peep out of Jenna’s roommate yet.

“I hate your friends,” Cody groaned. They’d had a little party at her apartment, some of her college friends stopping by. “Who plays beer pong with tequila?”

“I am regretting last night, right now,” Jenna whined, plunking the steaming mug of coffee down in front of him.

“Well… not all of last night, right?” Cody said with a wink. “We could hear you, you know. Thin walls.”

Jenna blushed, pulling her thick, long red hair entirely over one shoulder and braiding it. She ran her hands through it to undo it and started braiding it back up again. A nervous habit, he’d noticed, that she’d been doing more lately.

“No, I don’t regret all of last night,” she said, her skin pink and adorable under her freckles.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Cody asked. “That all of your friends throw themselves at your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend. But… no,” she said, her hands circling her mug. “Shane has surprised me from the start. With girls. Women. He never really seems all that interested, beyond like, base-level politeness. Even that, sometimes, is kind of hard to get out of him.” She chuckled. “He’s never looked twice at anyone in front of me. And I believe him when he says he’s not seeing anyone else, even though we aren’t technically exclusive.” She took a sip, looking thoughtful. “But honestly, Cody, he never really seems that interested in me, either.”

“Um… unless you fake an awful lot of orgasms – which trust me, I’d be thrilled to hear since I’ve been jealous of the guy my whole life and knowing he’s bad in bed would be a delight for me – I don’t see where you’re getting the idea that he’s ‘not interested’ in you.”

Jenna laughed, and Cody sat up straighter. He loved her laugh, it was loud and ugly and honest, and always surprised him since Jenna was normally so quiet, reserved.

“I hate to tell you this Cody, but he’s stellar in bed. He reads my body like a book, translates it into a dozen other languages, and then makes it read them all out loud.”

“Of course he does,” Cody grumbled.

“But sometimes sex with him is… I don’t know. He’s not there with you . Sometimes I feel like my body is just an instrument, to him, and he’s composing a song for someone else. It’s beautiful, but it’s not meant for me.”

“Are you a poetry major?” Cody asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Business,” she said, quirking a smile. “I really shouldn’t complain. I mean, he fucks me raw, doesn’t sleep with anyone else, he’s kind to me, and he introduced me to you,” she smiled warmly at Cody, touching his hand, “but I do sometimes wish I knew him, a little. Or at all.”

“Well, that’s not just you sweets. I’ve known him most of his life and I still don’t know him… You know?”

“I’m crazy about him, but I’m not sure he’s mine. It feels like… like he already belongs to somebody else.”

“Well, I volunteer as a tribute, if you ever want revenge sex,” Cody said.

Jenna smiled ruefully, and they sipped their coffees.

Fuck you, Shane, he thought, whipping out a bump. This girl is perfection and you couldn’t care less.