The sheets are on the floor. I’m sprawled out on the bed, breathless, covered in sweat, and swimming in post-sex bliss.

What the hell just happened?

“Well,” Tyler says between breaths, “that was different.” When he sits up, I glance over at him. “You realize you left the water running in the shower?”

“Yeah…”

When he stands, my eyes instinctively fall down to his ass. Fuck, why does he have to be so hot? How in the hell did I even give into him like that? I’m reeling from the orgasm, from how the hell this even happened. I came out and caught him masturbating to my sextape. Was that a turn on? Of course it fucking was. Did it piss me off? Not as much as I pretended. Did I mean to fuck him? No!

I push up from the mattress to go to the bathroom, but he grabs onto my arm. “Jemma,” he says. “We can say we hate each other all fucking day long, but we both know that’s bullshit.” He releases my arm, grabs his sweats and puts them on before falling back onto the bed.

I close the door to the restroom and climb back into the shower. I can’t even get my thoughts together enough to logically think through what I just did. I finish rinsing off, get dressed, and quietly go back into the bedroom. Tyler’s sprawled out on his bed asleep.

I stand at the foot of the bed and stare at him. Why in the hell do things have to be so complicated? I want him. I’ve always wanted him. Why in the hell did he have to run off and do porn? If it weren’t for that, we would be together. There is no doubt in my mind about that.

I flip the lamp off and feel my way to the edge of the bed. The springs of the mattress creak when I slide under the comforter. This is such bullshit. My pussy is throbbing, my chest tight, my mind a jumbled mess. I am never going to sleep. I inhale a deep breath as I try to get more comfortable in this shitty excuse for a bed.

“I don’t hate you…” he says.

I swallow. “I know. I don’t hate you either.”

“This just sucks.”

“Yeah,” I agree.

“You feel weird now, titch?”

I turn my head and stare into the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust so I can make him out. “A little.”

“Just so you know…I told Hud after your first week I didn’t want you at my shoots.”

My pulse slowly hammers in my chest. “Why?”

“I just didn’t want you to see me doing that shit.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. For some reason, that hits me hard. I thought he didn’t care, I thought it didn’t bother him, but I was wrong.

I hear him shift in bed, then I see his silhouette as he makes his way toward my bed. The mattress dips when he crawls in next to me.

“What are you doing, Tyler?”

He drags in a heavy breath and then I feel his hand caresses the side of my face. “Pretending my life’s the way it should be,” he says before kissing me.

Our lips move against each other so gently, his tongue barely brushing against mine as he draws my face closer to his. This kiss makes me question my decision to not be with him. It’s the kind of kiss you see in movies; so perfect it can’t be real. Emotions well inside my chest, my heart slams against my ribs, and everything inside of me is screaming that no matter what, he is who I belong with.

I give into him. I give into him hard.

Within moments, we’re both undressed, and he’s kissing all over my body, slowly, tentatively.

“I miss this,” he whispers over my stomach. “I miss you.”

My legs fall apart, and he settles between my thighs. He pushes into me. The feeling of him inside of me forces a sex-laced moan from my lips. I lose myself in this moment, forgetting how horrible this is for my heart.

He sinks deeper inside of me, kissing my lips again before his pace picks up.

“I love you,” he says against my mouth. It’s like I can’t breathe, can’t think. All I can do is feel him inside me, over me.

“I love you too.” Those words fall from my lips too easily.

“Fuck, I love you.”

Heat drowns my body as my muscles stiffen then release. My skin buzzes as waves of intense pleasure crash through me.

“I love you, Jemma,” he says, quickening his pace. Within seconds, he’s gone rigid on top of me, my nails are embedded in his hard shoulders, and we’re both moaning. He collapses on top of me, and we lie here, breathless and holding each other, pretending this is a life we could have.