The kiss is the first thing I think about when I open my eyes the next morning. It plays through my mind in slow motion with all of the regret I feel. Stupid alcohol. I never would have done that had I been sober. I wouldn't have been brave enough to do it.

Now I just feel like some desperate creeper.

My phone buzzes, and I pick it up off of my nightstand. It's a text from Willow asking if I got home alright. I set my phone back down and throw my arm over my face as I let out an exasperated sigh. I can't be bothered to text her back right now. How am I even going to face her again after what I did? Not that anyone knows. But I know. That's bad enough.

A few minutes later, my phone rings. Willow's name flashes across the called ID. For a split second, I worry that something might be wrong. But then I remember she's with Peter. And the text is a precursor to what the conversation will be if I answer the phone. That and her probably gushing about how wonderful Peter is...which I just can't handle right now.

I allow the call to go to voicemail and just lie there in my misery. The longer I stay in bed, the more I think about the kiss and why I did it. The entire night with Willow at my side plays through my brain over and over again. Saving her from that asshole in the kitchen. The excitement on her face when she brought out the game of Twister from Peter's room. Surely, she knew things would get awkward if we played. Or maybe she didn't. There's a childlike innocence about her that's endearing. She's not tainted like most people. But that will probably change after a month with Peter.

The thought of him changing her irrationally angers me. But there's nothing I can do about it. She chose to be with him. She wants this. I wish she wanted...

Fuck. I tear my hand through my hair. I cannot lie here all day and mope and think about what could have been.

Using all of my energy, I drag my lazy ass out of bed, walk Max and then go to the gym. Working out will distract me, plus it will help me burn through my hangover faster, not that I have much of one. I was admittedly drunk when I left Peter's loft last night, but thanks to my fast metabolism, I feel mostly okay now.

As soon as I walk inside the gym, I see Becky working out in the thirty-minute circuit area like I told her to. I can't help but grin, a bit surprised she's actually taking this seriously. She smiles at me when our eyes meet, but she doesn't leave the circuit to talk to me until her workout is done.

“Hey,” she chirps when she finds me at the pull-up bar.

“Hey.” I do my last rep before dropping down.

“Man, you're strong. I haven't done a pull-up since high school. I doubt I have the muscle to do them anymore.” She stares at the bar.

“Why don't you give it a try?” I step aside, gesturing to the equipment.

Her lips dip into a pout and she crosses her arms over her chest. “You're going to make fun of me if I can't do one.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.” I chuckle.

“You promise?” Becky hops, slowly giving in.

“I promise.” I move back so that she can get around me.

“Oh. Alright. If it will make you happy.” She stomps her feet like she doesn't want to do it, but she still reaches up to grip the bar. “I'm probably too sore to do it now.”

“I have faith in you.” I watch her make a halfhearted effort. Right before she's about to give up, I place my hands on her waist and lift her up. She gasps and giggles, looking back down at me. “See. I told you you could do it.”

“I guess I can when you help me.” She spins around in my arms once I set her down.

Our eyes meet, and I expect to feel something from it, but I don't. She's just another pretty girl in a sea of all the ones who have wanted my attention before.

“Caleb Ryan,” a shrill female voice says behind me. It makes me cringe and the hair on the back of my neck prickle. I turn to see Willow standing there with her arms crossed over her chest. I feel like I've been caught doing something wrong...but I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm single. I have just as much of a right to flirt as the next single guy. “Why haven't you been answering your phone?”

“I've been busy.” I take a defensive stance, standing in front of Becky. It's none of her damn business what I've been doing.

Her hard demeanor softens, and concern takes over her expression. “I've been worried sick about you. You can't do this shit to me. You left Peter's house drunk last night. I didn't know if you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Guilt assaults my chest...and something else. Thinking that I mean that much to her. It fills me with unpleasant forbidden yearnings.

I try to shake my sorrow away, but it's coming over me like a raincloud. “I'm fine. I was fine.”

“How am I supposed to know that when you don't answer your phone?”

“You shouldn't worry about me.”

“Yeah. Well, I do.” Willow places her hands on her hips.

“Did you come to workout?” Becky finally speaks. She sounds unnaturally happy for someone standing face to face with their enemy.

Willow looks her up and down with disdain and huffs.

“You should come do the circuit with me.” Becky points back to the circuit. “I just finished it, but I could go again if you want.”

“I just came to talk to him.” Willow nods to me. “Speaking of which, come outside. I need some advice.”

Before I have time to object, she grabs my hand and drags me out of the gym. I cast an apologetic look back at Becky who is standing there dumbstruck. I swear, Willow is like a whirlwind wherever she goes.

As soon as we're outside, Willow folds her arms over her chest, looking nervous. “I think Peter is going to want to take things to the next level soon.”

Just hearing her say it makes my gut twist.

“I don't want to know what happens with you guys behind closed doors.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to banish all of the horrid mental images going through my head right now.

“I mean, it's the natural progression of things.” She ignores me. “I've already spent the night at his house. I was too drunk for us to do anything, but since I've spent the night once, he's going to want me to spend the night again. It can only be a matter of time.”

“Don't care.” I pretend to plug my ears.

“Caleb.” She hops like a spoiled child to get my attention. “I don't know what I'm doing. I don't want to screw up or embarrass myself. In case you haven't figured it out yet,” she takes a step closer to whisper to me, “I'm a virgin.”

I think my heart stops beating. A new protectiveness takes over me, but I'm not sure if it's because I care about her as a friend or because I want to be her first.

“What? Do you want to fucking practice or something?” I throw the suggestion into the wind like I'm annoyed, but it's a completely serious question.

“No, I don't want to practice with you.” She seems appalled. “I just...don't know what to do is all. I'm nervous.” She shrinks back a little.

I'm feeling so many unpleasant things. I came here to escape thoughts of her, and yet here she is. Is there nowhere that I can find peace?

Whatever the case, I can't do this right now. I can't think of her being with him, especially with this new tidbit of information. I can't remember the longing looks we gave each other last night and imagine her in bed with another man. It's too painful.

“Read shit on the internet. This isn't my fucking problem,” I bark at her before heading back inside to the locker room. She can't follow me in there.