Chapter 2 - The Life That Mattered

“Whoa, Evie! You are hot!” Lila flipped her champagne blond hair over her bare shoulder, looking rather hot herself in a simple black cocktail dress.

Graham was … Graham. Always in an expensive, tailored suit and freshly gelled hair. That night he chose a basic black suit. What was wrong with the one he had on earlier?

“It’s not too much?” I wrinkled my nose.

“Yes. It’s too much.” Graham smirked. “I spent way too much money on it.”

“I didn’t ask you to buy it. You just like to throw around your money so the world feels indebted to you. I’m going to give the dress to Lila after tonight, so you’ll have one less thing to hold over my head.” I sashayed to the elevator, brushing my hands over my rhubarb V-neck wrap dress with kimono sleeves. The flowing material softened my teenage-boy figure. As we stepped onto the elevator, Graham eyed my hair.

Asshole.

“I feel like the bird’s nest is no longer the trend. Am I wrong?” He cocked his head to the side.

Lila elbowed him in the ribs. “It’s a messy bun, and it always looks good on Evie.”

Once.

I had sex with Graham once in the two weeks we dated—if you could call it dating. We were under the heavy influence of alcohol. Lila knew. Hell, I called her the second I left his apartment on campus. She responded with, “Eww … come home and shower right away.”

The flowers, jewelry, stolen poetry … all led up to a night of passionless sex. It felt like having sex with my best friend, and that felt wrong. We crossed a line because I had a vagina and he had a penis. Just because you can … doesn’t mean you should. Wise words I learned a little too late.

Many years separated us from that epic mistake. I knew he loved my best friend, and they had a strong physical chemistry. Still … Graham gave me the I’ve-seen-you-naked look like it was something to lord over me. Yes, he’d seen the goods. That didn’t give him the right to judge them for the rest of our lives.

“Oh my god! There he is,” Lila whispered when the elevator doors opened to the lobby just as Ronin strutted with jaw-dropping swagger toward the steakhouse.

“Oh my god? Clearly, I didn’t fuck you hard enough earlier,” Graham grumbled.

I grinned, biting my tongue. Fine. Graham had seen my goods, but his fiancée drooled over the goods of my date. That magically made up for the visions in Graham’s head that I would never be able to erase.

“Whoa …” Ronin stopped on a second glance in our direction. His head jerked back as an appreciative smile slid up his chiseled face. I felt a twinge of disappointment that he unknowingly submitted to Graham’s starchy dress code for the night by wearing a blue suit. However, his red tie damn near matched my dress and that thrilled me.

Don’t get me wrong; he was hot as fuck, just like the look he gave me as we stepped off the elevator.

“Evelyn…” his gaze swept along my entire body, more than once “…you look incredible.” He held out his hand to take mine.

Okay … this is happening.

Seven hours earlier, I had met this stranger who looked like he had just stepped off an international modeling stage, and in a blink of time, he wore a suit and a grin that dirtied my thoughts.

Graham offered Lila his arm like she was lucky to be on it, also, so he could use his hands for texting. “Good to see you again.” My starchy Graham Cracker nodded at Ronin just before leading us to the restaurant. He earned more points for treating my date with a lot more respect than he gave me most days.

I received points because Lila was so enamored with my date that she couldn’t even articulate a greeting beyond a dreamy smile and some drool.

Okay, not really, but I knew that look. It was usually the one she gave Graham. Lila glanced over her shoulder at us, gaze flicking to our clasped hands. It made my cheeks burn. Lila grinned at me. That made them burn even more. She knew me too well, so of course she knew I was seconds away from sweating through that dress, even with the chill in the hotel lobby.

The night turned into a dream. The four of us just … clicked. Come to find out, Ronin was a part-time model for five years in France. He even modeled a men’s clothing line designed by Graham’s aunt, who probably knew Ronin’s mom.

Perfection stole the night.

Expensive wine.

Course after course of the best food.

Laughter.

Engaging conversation.

It was quite possibly the most fun I’d ever had.

As people packed into the restaurant, it became harder to hear, even though we were contributing to the noise as much if not more than anyone else. Ronin occasionally leaned toward me to hear my words. When he did, he rested his hand on my leg … the part of my leg exposed from the slit in my dress. Maybe it was the wine, but every time that hand rested on my leg, it felt a fraction of an inch higher with a tighter grip.

“I need the ladies’ room.” Lila set her napkin on the table.

“Me too.” I scooted back in my chair.

Ronin stood and Graham quickly followed suit.

Holy. Shit.

Lila and I shared a quick look.

Our dates stood for women. Talk about good upbringing …

Honestly, I’m not sure Graham would have stood had Ronin not initiated it.

I smiled up at Ronin through my wine-glossed eyes, feeling a bit wobbly on my heavy legs.

“Got it?” Amusement lit up his face as he steadied me with his hand on my lower back. That sexy grin disintegrated my already thin and delicate panties.

“Mm-hmm.” My teeth trapped my lower lip to hold in my giggle. I might have been a little tipsy. A lot horny. And hot. Hours of his hand making a return trip to my leg raised my body temperature to roughly the sun’s surface.

“I’ve got her.” Lila hooked her arm around mine. She wasn’t in any better shape, but we hoped that two half-drunk women could make it to the ladies’ room with the grace of one sober woman.

“Oh my gosh … EVIE!” Lila grabbed my shoulders as soon as we slipped into the ladies’ lounge just outside of the room with the sinks and toilets. “He’s perfect! I like him. Graham likes him. He’s perfect! And that accent. I got so pissed that Graham kept interrupting. I could listen to Ronin read a dictionary. And don’t you dare tell Graham I said that. You have to marry Ronin. I mean … not until after my wedding, of course. But he’s the one!”

She knew everything—almost. I spilled the details on our shopping excursion. His ethnicity, his famous father, his clothing-designer mother, and the fact that he had a flight the next morning to Denver.

“I know. I know …” I plopped into a velvet chair and grabbed the skirt of my dress, fanning it to release some heat, but everywhere his hand touched remained ablaze.

“You’re going to make the most beautiful babies with beautiful Asian skin and hair, dark eyes, and they’ll speak French like their grandpa.” Lila grinned, hitching her ass to the arm of my chair.

“They’ll have half of my genes too.”

She sighed. “Maybe they’ll be recessive genes.”

“You’re awful.”

She laughed, hugging me. “Kidding. You’re the most beautiful … special really … beautiful person I know.”

“Wow! You’re more drunk than I am.”

“Probably.” She forced herself to stand again, teetering on her high heels for a few seconds before zigzagging toward the toilets.

We finished the night with dessert and more wine. Before Lila attempted to dry hump Graham’s leg, he excused them from the table, taking care of the bill with a simple nod to the waiter.

“Do you golf, Ronin?” Graham asked, sliding his arm around Lila’s waist to steady her.

“Sometimes.” Ronin finished his glass of water.

“Call me when you get settled. We’ll play.”

Ronin raised his empty glass before setting it down. “I’d like that.”

Okay … when did they exchange numbers? What went on while we were in the ladies’ room?

“Be good, Evie.” Graham winked at me, pulling drunk Lila away from the table.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Sounds tragically boring,” Ronin said.

I returned my attention to him and the grin on his face after they disappeared around the corner. “What does?”

“Good Evie.” He leaned back, looking entirely too cool. Too put together. Too damn sexy.

I grabbed my water and gulped it down. It’s not that I had any intention of having sex with Ronin that night (outside of my head, of course). The last time I had too much to drink and hopped into bed with someone, it was Graham. Look how that turned out. A cautionary tale.

I flooded my system with as much water as possible to cleanse my thoughts.

“I have an early flight tomorrow morning. Can I escort you to your room?”

“Escort? Sounds like navigating to my room could be dangerous on my own. Is that what you’re implying?” I chuckled, pulling my phone from my purse to check the time. It was one-thirty in the morning. I cringed, making a quick inspection of the abandoned restaurant. The wait staff wouldn’t kick Graham Porter’s friends out no matter the time.

“Your friends left you in my care. I feel responsible.”

I peeled my ass from the chair, already feeling more sure on my feet than Lila. “But are you responsible?” As Ronin loosened his tie like it was ridiculous to have one on after midnight, I snagged my clutch from the table.

“Responsible? Yes. Well-behaved? Sometimes.” He grasped my hand like he owned it.

Again, I felt it in places that a responsible person should not have felt it. “So a sometimes-well-behaved man is escorting me to my room?” I followed him to the elevators, handing him my room card to gain access to my floor.

He didn’t let go of my hand. Not in the elevator. Not down the short hallway to my room. Not when we stopped at my door.

“Tell me about this?” He twisted my left arm, exposing my carbon atom tattoo.

“It’s carbon.”

Ronin chuckled. “Okay. What’s the significance?”

My eyes narrowed. “What’s the significance? Um … only the main element in organic compounds; therefore it’s essential to life on Earth. So … pretty significant.” That came out on way too much instinct and possibly way too many hours in a lab. Closing my eyes, I shook my head. Rolling my lips between my teeth, I stifled a laugh.

“What?” he asked on a slight laugh of his own.

“Wow! I just … went there. Couldn’t play it cool for two seconds before defending carbon’s role in the world like the science geek I was when I picked out the stupid thing and the science geek I clearly still am.”

“Science isn’t sexy” was an original Lila Mason quote and a hard concept for me to remember, not that she had any room to speak. Before she decided on the winged tramp stamp, she seriously considered a long math equation straight down her spine. At the time, she had an insane crush on her multivariable calculus professor.

“Your geek side is adorable.”

My cheeks bloomed with heat. “Thanks. Obviously, it’s effortless too.”

Ronin grinned. “Please thank Graham and Lila again for dinner. I’ve enjoyed every second of this evening.”

I returned a slow nod. He still held my hand in his left hand and my keycard in his right hand. I wasn’t drunk, barely even tipsy by that point. The wine held no blame for my desire to invite him into my room. Had I been home, I would’ve invited him into my house. But houses had kitchens and living rooms. Okay, my suite had both of those things too, but the large king bed monopolized the space, demanding attention. I wasn’t sure I could invite Ronin into my room without doing something impulsive.

Courting and no-sex-until-the-third-date rules didn’t apply to women in their thirties. That made it so tempting to give in to my impulsivity. By thirty, my parents’ generation gave up on my generation going down a straight path: school, love, marriage, children. Thirty and single was the new fifty and widowed. “Poor thing … she’ll be lucky if anyone takes her.”

Sex on the first date in your thirties symbolized a goddamn miracle like the lottery, not a cardinal sin with a ticket to Hell. “Yay! Someone might take her!” Their opinions were not up-to-date. The average age for my generation to get married and start a family breached thirty’s door. However, my parents had two kids in school by that point in their lives, so they compared me to the past, not the present.

Still … I smiled and took the traditional route with Ronin that night. “I had a nice time too. I hope you’re not regretting this in the morning when you’re dragging ass to the airport.”

He winked. “I’ll sleep on the plane.”

“You should stop by my shop when you get to Aspen. Well, wait a week until I’m there. But definitely stop by. No need to buy anything. Just …” Enough with the rambling, I chastised myself.

“What’s the name of your shop?”

“Clean Art.”

He grinned. “Clean Art. Nice name. I’ll stop by as soon as I get there and grab a few things to try. When you return, I’ll give you my unbiased opinion of them.”

No. He couldn’t stop by until I was there. Soapy Sophie, my manager and sole employee, would try to steal him.

He was mine. I found him.

“Really, you should wait for me. I’ll help you pick out the right products for your skin type.”

“What’s my skin type?”

Perfect. It was perfect.

“I don’t want to say. It’s terrible lighting. I’ll get a closer look when I return home.”

He released my hand, bent forward, and pulled his hair away from his forehead, hovering several inches from my face. “Oily? Dry? Combination?”

I returned a nervous smile, wagging my head. “It’s … nice. I’ll find something that will keep it nice.”

His grin swelled, showing a lot of white teeth while keeping his face so close to mine I felt like it would be a waste of bending-over effort to not go ahead and kiss. I mean … he was right there, an evil tempter.

“Nice, huh?” he whispered.

As he started to stand straight again, I grabbed his face, pressing my palms to his cheeks. “But your lips might be a bit dry.” Holy crap! I sounded breathy.

His gaze fell to my mouth. “Is that so?”

My lips rubbed together as if a wave of self-consciousness hit them. “Happens when you’re in the elements so much.” My thumb brushed his bottom lip. It was barely dry. And it was probably the pad of my dry thumb, not his lip.

As my bravery dissolved, loosening my grip, he grabbed my wrist, holding my hand by his mouth. His tongue flicked out, teasing his bottom lip and my thumb. When he grazed it with his teeth, my lips parted, releasing an even heavier audible breath.

A prickly sensation spread along my skin while heat gathered low in my belly, up my chest, and along my cheeks.

“Sweet dreams, Evelyn.” He twisted my wrist, pressing the softest imaginable kiss to the inside of it.

I swallowed, choking on my own erratic and out of control pulse. “I …” Just great. A huskiness infiltrated my words. His effect on me couldn’t have been more obvious. I cleared my throat, grappling with my composure. “I should get your phone number, so you know when I’m home. For … soap.” The second I said the word soap, I bit my lips to hide my grin and closed my eyes to run from my embarrassment.

Yes. Soap. Ronin was moving. Taking a new job. Settling into a new home. Yet, surely the distress over finding the right soap in Colorado kept him up at night.

Ronin straightened his back, wetting his lips while releasing my hand to my side. “Clean Art. Don’t worry … I’ll find you.”

Oh god.

He wouldn’t find me. He didn’t give me his number because he didn’t want me to call him. Right? I mean, why not just give me the damn phone number?

“I could give you my phone number?” I shrugged. You know … so I could obsess over why he wasn’t calling me. That was always a good time.

“True. Or I could just see you soon.” He opened my door with my keycard, handed it to me, and winked before sauntering toward the elevator.

My mouth fell open. No numbers were exchanged. That wasn’t good. Not good at all.

Goodbye, tall, sexy, runway model who can ski and nearly make me orgasm just by biting the pad of my thumb.

I would never see him again, unless just by chance. Then it would be awkward. That, “Hey, didn’t we share buns and bubble tea?” followed by fading smiles and an uncomfortable silence.

Au revoir. No … I think that was more of an “until we see each other again,” which was unlikely. Maybe “adieu.” If I recalled correctly (after three years of French), it was the goodbye you gave someone for the last time. “Until God.” Yes, I thought it was more final.

Adieu, Ronin Alexander.

Just before I shut my door, Graham opened the door to their suite across the hallway. He’d changed from his suit to navy silk pajamas with white piping. “Thought I heard you out here.”

I grinned, eyeing his getup. “I’m sure those pajamas cost around a grand, but they make you look like an old man. Where’s Lila? Finishing the job on her own?” I smirked.

Graham narrowed his eyes, closing his door and crossing into my territory, forcing me to retreat and let him inside my room. I frowned. It was the early hours of the morning. My dream guy just left me. I wasn’t in the mood to have a pajama party with Graham.

“I can’t sleep.” He gave me a matter-of-fact look.

“I can. I’m actually really good at it.”

He brushed past me, flipping on the light by the king-sized bed and plunking onto it with his back against the headboard. On an exasperated sigh, I closed the door, grabbed my nightshirt, and slipped into the bathroom, sliding the door shut.

“Why did you ditch me after we slept together?”

I paused while removing my dress, narrowing my eyes at the floor, questioning if I heard him correctly. My brain had already turned off the lights. There was no way I’d answer him. I continued to get ready for bed.

“Did you have to convince Lila to be with me? To give me a chance? I wanted to do it on my own, you know? That was the point.”

I rolled my eyes as I brushed my teeth. Graham’s nightcap must have been laced with an overdose of insecurity. He didn’t sound like a thirty-six-year-old man planning on making a run for governor. Everyone needed a dumping ground for their insecurities. I was Lila’s. She was mine. But I was also Graham’s. It wasn’t fair that I got dumped on twice.

After washing my face, I eased open the door and yawned, hoping he’d get the hint that I wasn’t in the mood for that conversation. Slipping under the covers, I snuggled onto my side with my back to him.

Hint. Hint.

He scooted down, inching closer to me so his head rested on my pillow just behind mine. “My father said you weren’t good enough for me. A nice girl, but not focused.”

I flipped around facing him, eyes squinted. “I don’t like this bedtime story. Got a different one?”

Graham wasn’t like a brother or a cousin to me because we had, in fact, had sex. We were overly acquainted friends, a different dynamic than my friendship with Lila. I’d known her longer. I would have jumped in front of a bus to save her life.

Graham? Well, I’m not sure I would have leapt in front of a bus, but I might have warned him with a really loud scream, and I would have been the first to call for an ambulance. I definitely would have donated blood to save his life, and maybe even a kidney like my sister donated to my father because she was the best match.

“I used you to make Lila jealous. I’m sorry. I think I even used you to piss off my father.”

“Glad I could assist you in pissing off your father. But newsflash, dickhead, sleeping with a woman’s best friend is not the way to make her jealous. Lila greeted me at the door with a can of disinfectant after I left your apartment that night. She knew you were a walking STD. And honestly, I was embarrassed that I’d stooped so low. Let myself get that drunk.”

“Wow, Evie … don’t sugarcoat it.”

“Coming from the guy who is ninety percent amazing to me. Really … you’re there for me when Lila’s busy. You’ve advocated for my family, for my dad. I honestly consider you my best guy friend. But that other ten percent of the time you are a cruel asshole.”

He flinched, blinking several times.

“I get it, Graham. That’s why we’re friends. I think I get you better than anyone, including Lila. The good in you gets suffocated by the expectations your family places on you. I’m not an idiot. Your dad still goes on and on about Lila. She has an engineering degree. I make soap. Her parents died in a car accident—that’s tragic. My parents struggle to make ends meet because my dad was out of a job for so long with his health issues. And you paid for his treatment. That makes my parents poor and pathetic in your father’s eyes.”

“I like Ronin,” he said in a monotone voice.

I coughed a laugh. “Okay then … now we’re talking about Ronin?”

“I like him. You could use someone like him in your life.”

“Fine, Graham … I’ll bite. Define someone like him.”

He reached up, pinching a few strands of my hair between his fingers, nose scrunched.

I batted his hand away.

He smirked.

Asshole.

“Well, once Lila and I get married, she’s going to have a different life. Especially after I become governor.”

“If you become governor.”

Graham ignored my jab. We’d become experts at ignoring each other’s jabs.

“She’s going to take on a new role.”

“She has a job.”

He shrugged. “She’ll have a different job: being the governor’s wife. New duties. New friends.”

“Wait …” I laughed to keep from kneeing him in the balls for what I believed he was insinuating. “If you’re suggesting Lila and I will no longer be friends if you become governor, then you’re sorely mistaken. Also, there’s no way in hell she’s quitting a job she loves just to plan fancy dinners and attend fundraisers on your arm. No way.”

“I’m not saying you won’t be friends. I’m just saying she’ll be much busier. Your weekly lunches might be more like monthly lunches. Your endless phone chats and incessant texting will have to scale down to quick chats on a need-to basis. Her jaunts to Aspen just to make soap with you on the weekends will have to stop. I’m saying you won’t have unrestricted access to her like you have now. Therefore … back to my original statement. I think Ronin is good for you. I think he could fill the void she’s going to leave once we get married.”

I sprang to sitting, spine straight, jaw clenched.

“Stop.” Graham sat up, grabbing my arms. “You have such a knee-jerk reaction. Just … stop. We’ve been friends for over a decade. You’re the first to put me in my place when you think I’m fucking up my life. I’m the first person to come to your rescue when your life begins to fall apart. Like with your dad. I don’t know exactly what it is between us. I don’t know how I can be in love with Lila but at the same time feel so connected to you. It just is … we just … are.”

Anger muzzled my words. That hurt. Graham knew how to hurt me because he knew I needed him. Or so I thought. I didn’t know anymore. Something told me Governor Porter would no longer drive to Aspen to watch football with his buddy, Evie, while Lila read a book. He had Lila, so he no longer needed me to sing his praises. My dad had fully recovered, hopefully ending my days of begging Graham for help.

“Are you breaking up with me, Graham? Is that why you’re so smitten with Ronin? You’ve found my replacement for you?”

“You know, Evie, if you don’t stop thinking the worst of me, I’ll find it hard to pardon you if you get into trouble.”

“You’re the world’s biggest dick, Graham Cracker. Even without actually having a big dick.”

“Low blow—”

Three knocks rapped at the door.

“Can’t imagine who that might be.” Graham smirked, climbing out of bed and opening the door.

“Are you two having sex again … without me?” Lila yawned.

“Someone didn’t take her sleeping pills.” Graham tsked.

I shook my head. “Please tell me you’re not drugging my friend.”

“Not drugs, Evie. You know I would never do that.” Lila shuffled into the room. “Herbs. Valerian. I’ve had trouble sleeping while trying to work full-time and planning a wedding.” She crawled into the bed and burrowed under the covers next to me. “I didn’t take one tonight because I thought the wine should do it. But then I woke up, and Graham was gone. I knew he’d be here with you.”

“Well, I don’t want him. You can take him.”

She laughed. “I’m done with him for tonight too.”

Graham collapsed onto the bed, pressing his chest to Lila’s back so we were three spoons neatly nestled in my bed. “I’m feeling like a threesome tonight. Who’s in?” His husky voice crushed my hopes of it being a joke.

With wide eyes, I glanced over my shoulder. Graham’s hand confirmed his intent as it snaked between me and Lila, diving between her legs, rubbing her over her silk pajama bottoms.

“Graham, stop…” she breathed his name with little conviction.

My head jerked away, eyes still unblinking.

“Touch Evelyn like I’m touching you, baby.”

My whole body stiffened. “No, baby, do not touch me like he’s touching you.”

Lila ran her hand down my arm which made Graham moan. It did something to me too, but I wasn’t sure what.

“Evie, you were my first kiss,” she whispered in my ear.

My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

No threesomes.

No way.

We weren’t those kind of friends, even if Lila and I practiced kissing on each other before we ever kissed a guy. It was science … an experiment of sorts, not preparation for a threesome.

The bed moved slightly as Graham rocked his pelvis against the back of Lila. Her breath hitched, and her hand slid to my hip, fingers digging into my flesh. She was intoxicated. The Lila I knew would not engage in such behavior.

I was … well, I was nervous and panicked, but also curious. While I didn’t feel tipsy anymore, the residual alcohol in my blood had to be the reason I remained in that spot, perfectly still, instead of flying out of the bed—shocked and offended.

Lila inched her hand from my hip to my breast.

“Fuck yes …” Graham’s throaty enthusiasm did nothing for me.

“Do you like that, Evie?” Lila pressed her lips next to my ear as her thumb brushed my nipple over my nightshirt.

Graham kept one hand between her legs, and god only knows where he had his other hand, but no doubt giving her pleasure. His pleasure seemed to come from her exploring my breast.

“Do you?” I muttered, not feeling it like I felt the pull in the hallway with Ronin. Not feeling it like she felt Graham’s touch.

“I …” her warm breath washed over the side of my face, tiny little pants in response to Graham getting her off. At least, I hoped it was Graham and not me.

Was that what rich people did? Alcohol, sleeping pills, and threesomes?

I found it a little perverted, kind of gross, but still … oddly mesmerizing like I wasn’t really the one on the bed with them. My body no longer belonged to me. These three close friends entertained an odd curiosity, but I wasn’t part of it. No. I remained a bystander who knew it was wrong to watch but couldn’t seem to turn away.

They shifted behind me, and I closed my eyes. After all, it wasn’t real. Lila guided me from my side to my back, greeting me with a glassy-eyed gaze when my eyelids fluttered open. She slid the front of my nightshirt up my body, exposing my breasts. It made every tiny hair on my body stand erect. Her long blond hair tickled my skin as she knelt beside me, lowering her head to my chest. Graham remained on his side with his head propped up on his right arm while his left hand slid into the front of his expensive lounge pants.

Oh god …

Lila drew my nipple into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue. It wasn’t bad. I’m not sure it was good either. Just different. Had it been anyone else but Lila, I would have been out of there, halfway back to Aspen already. My best friend’s fascination with my breasts kept me idle, studying her, not really giving a shit about Graham getting off from the show.

Was it her altered state? Did she think of me in a sexual way in her sober state? Did it make her a lesbian or bisexual? Did it make me one for letting it happen?

In a sudden change of events, she teased my nipple with her tongue ring and … well … it sort of turned me on, but I had no impulse to reciprocate. No desire to touch, see, or taste any part of her body.

“This is insane,” she slurred her words as her mouth brushed across my chest to my other breast. “Why is this so hot?” she murmured just before laving my breast with her warm, wet tongue.

I glanced over at Graham again. His jaw was slack, hand going to town, pumping his cock.

It wasn’t hot. It was weird and wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

So. Very. Wrong.

Lila would know it in the morning.

At least that’s what the my-parents-raised-me-right part of my brain said while pleading its case. The rest of my body, specifically my breasts, had a different case to plead. I couldn’t take anything away from my friend; she knew what she was doing, and she did it well.

“Slide your fingers inside her,” Graham’s drunken eyes blinked heavily as he ordered Lila to do something I … I just couldn’t.

Nope.

Ten more piercings and a dozen additional tattoos—sign me up. That was my kind of wild side and impulsivity.

Lila’s mouth feathered up my neck as her hand slinked down my abs. Her lips brushed mine. I stiffened even more, holding my breath.

Some lines weren’t meant to be crossed. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Lila’s fingers inside of me would be really hard to mentally shake off as easily as her mouth on mine or her tongue teasing my nipples.

Or was it too late?

I wasn’t familiar with all the acts that two people (no matter their sexual preference) considered sex. For two women, was breast and nipple play considered sex?

Kissing?

Genital rubbing?

Masturbation?

Seriously … I had no clue because I never had any reason to study that topic and consider the possibilities. Until … I found myself on a bed in a Vancouver suite with Lila’s tongue doing things to my nipples—things that awakened possibilities. Would letting it go further make me feel more free, liberated?

I decided a trip to Mardi Gras to show off my tatas for some beads might be a better choice to liberate myself without risking my closest friendship. I mean … what if Lila would have found me to be a better lover than Graham? What would that have meant for their impending marriage?

And Ronin … what about him—all six and a half feet of my sexy new acquaintance?

Just like that … I made my decision. I had to escape before my BFF gave me an orgasm … which she was on her way to doing.

Really. Well done, Lila.

I rolled out of bed like a five-alarm fire and shoved down my nightshirt, turning toward the bed to give my two insane friends a very serious speech on ethics and the importance of not risking our friendship for sexual pleasure.

Too late.

Graham had his tongue down Lila’s throat as they ripped off each other’s clothes.

I chuckled, running my hands through my hair. “I’ll give you two a few minutes. I mean … it’s my bed. But whatever.”

They ignored me, so I shuffled my feet to the door—the unneeded third wheel rolling into the ditch. After shutting the door, my back thumped against it, and I melted to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest.

“Harder, Graham!”

Biting my lips together, I cringed. How did I become their sex toy for the night? Their foreplay. And what would be said in the morning?

Over the next five or so minutes, I listened to my friends have sex—loud sex. For two full seconds—only two—I wondered if I’d made a mistake. I liked taking chances and rebelling in small ways. I liked giving the middle finger to rules when they didn’t suit me. Why did I pass up an opportunity to be spontaneous … a little taboo with my friends?

Ronin Alexander. That’s why.

On the miraculous chance that I would see him again and we would get married and have beautiful babies, I didn’t want a threesome tainting the memories of the day we met. I realized the moment that thought tiptoed through my mind, I was completely dismissing all other reasons like … friendship and the fact that Lila and Graham were engaged.

As the door behind me opened, I sprang to my feet.

Graham buttoned his top, wearing a truly awful grin like the wolf that just ate every sheep in the pasture. “She’s all yours again.” He winked, brushing past me to the door of his suite.

My evil gaze followed him. If only I could have burned him to the ground with it, I would have. He orchestrated all of that. Manipulated her. Manipulated me through her. At first, I thought he would be a terrible governor, but his sexual indiscretions seemed in line with the indulgent, corrupt life of a politician.

I eased the door shut behind me and tiptoed toward the bed, hoping to find Lila passed out so I wouldn’t have to deal with things until morning.

No such luck.

She sat up in the middle of the bed and pulled her pajama top on. Then she shimmied back into her panties and bottoms.

“Are you mad?” she mumbled with her back to me, hair a fucked-up mess. Graham did a number on her. Her voice held a lot more sobriety to it than it had ten minutes earlier.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” I slid into bed, pulled the covers up to my neck, and stared at the ceiling.

“Then why did you let it happen?” she whispered.

Good question.

“I don’t know. It felt forbidden.”

She turned her head toward me, but I kept looking at the ceiling. “Are you tempted by the forbidden?”

“Isn’t everyone to some degree?”

“I’m not a lesbian.”

I laughed. “Good to know.”

“It was more for Graham. He’s been pressuring me for quite some time to try something new.”

“Then get a different hairstyle, but don’t invite other people into your bed. That’s asking for trouble.”

“Then why didn’t you stop it sooner?”

Sitting up, I angled my body toward Lila, barely able to see her in the dark. I flipped on the light by the bed. We flinched at the brightness. “Listen, had it been anyone else, that could have gone terribly wrong for you, Lila. Seriously, how far were you willing to go? Were you going to let him put his mouth on my breasts? Were you going to let him have sex with me? Is that what does it for you? The man you love taking pleasure in another woman? It’s all fun and games under the heavy influence of alcohol and whatever sleep shit you’re taking.” I internally cringed, remembering that she didn’t take anything that night. We were all quite sober. “But…” I continued “…things get pretty real when a threesome turns into you watching Graham fuck another woman. Wouldn’t you agree?”

My anger pointed at myself as much as her. But I wasn’t engaged. I didn’t have as much to lose as Lila did. As I started to lecture her, more concern and regret built in my conscience. We were stupid. Really stupid.

Tears filled her eyes as she looked away and blotted the corners before a single one could creep out. “It’s funny …” She shook her head on a painful laugh. “I wanted nothing to do with him, but then you begged me to give him a chance. And the big jerk made me fall so hard for him that I hate to think how it would break me if he decided he didn’t want me.”

I reached for her hand, sandwiching it between mine. “Gauge your love for him by his love for you.”

“That sounds selfish. Like I love myself more.”

A smile stole my mouth, and I think she got my point before I said it, but I said it anyway. “Love yourself more.”

After a few silent moments, Lila returned a sad smile. “Will you ever forgive me for molesting you?”

Barking out a laugh, I shut off the lights. We scooted under the covers, facing each other. “Your tongue ring though …” I sighed.

“You liked it?”

I grinned, but she couldn’t see me. “Goodnight, Lila.”

I fell asleep next to my best friend like we’d done a million times over our twenty-nine-year friendship. If I was honest, the idea of something going wrong between Lila and Graham scared me to death. I would choose her; everyone knew that. However, Graham helped save my dad. He saved my family. Losing him would have felt like its own death.