I laid my head down on the bar dramatically. “There was no alcohol involved, and I still managed to hot mess it up.”

Frannie stroked my hair. “Girl, you’re going to have to tell me what happened. Give me aaalll the details.”

I smacked her leg. “Oh, you perv. Now that you’re practically an old married lady, you have to get your kicks from my sex stories?”

“Come on. You’ve seen my man. My sex stories blow everyone’s out of the water. Honestly, I can’t think of one time you’ve told me about anyone you’ve slept with. And I know you had some secret man when we were living together.”

I straightened and took a long swallow of my ice-cold beer. “The sex I may or may not have had with this alleged ‘secret man’ was nothing worth mentioning. Allegedly.”

She snorted. “That’s the first time you’ve admitted to the possibility of there being a secret man! We’re making progress here.”

“Can we get back to the horror show at hand, please?”

“Fine. Tell me about sex with Avi, my coworker who I have to see tomorrow. And go!”

Even though it was Saturday, it was still early, so the bar was mercifully empty, with just a few people scattered amongst the high-top tables and the arcade games in the back. Neither of us were very good at controlling the volume of our voices and our conversation was about to get R-rated. But no one was paying any attention to us...yet.

“So, obviously he’s attractive.”

Frannie hummed. “I agree.”

“I’ve had a thing for him since basically the day he moved in. But he just broke up with a very serious girlfriend.”

She nodded. “I heard. He’s not super talkative at work, but he did tell Rachel he was looking for a place to live because of the break-up.”

“He’s not over her. She came by last week, and the next thing I knew, he was ripping out my tile. She cheated on him.”

“Poor Avi.”

I started picking at the corner of the label on my beer bottle. “Yeah, so, as much as I like him, he isn’t for me. But then we kissed last night.”

“And? You’ve gotta get better with the details.”

I laughed. “Sorry! I’m not used to sharing my conquests!”

“Girl, you don’t look like you conquered anyone. I think Avi’s the conqueror in this situation.”

I flashed back to his fingers inside me and his hand cupping my jaw. Yes, I’d been thoroughly conquered.

Sighing, I laid my head back down on the bar.

Frannie stroked my hair again. “That good, huh?”

With my head buried in my arms, I said in a muffled voice, “Frannie, I was out of my mind. I’ve never experienced anything like it. And the things he said to me...good lord. He’s got a mouth on him.”

“Avi’s a dirty talker? I’m not really surprised.”

“And he’s bossy.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

I leaned closer to her, my hand on her arm. “I don’t think I’m submissive or anything, but I swear to you, it felt so good to let him take charge. I have never reacted like that with a man. I would have let him do whatever he wanted to me.”

She giggled. “Oh, god, you’re so cute, L.”

I shook her arm. “I’m serious! What do I do?”

“Hell if I know. I always went back for seconds if I was so inclined. But it sounds like you don’t want to do that.”

I ran my hands through my hair, tugging the ends. “I want to. But I don’t want to further complicate this situation. I feel like we can come back from a one-time, we-lost-our-minds event. We just...don’t work.”

We might have worked, in another life. Avi came with baggage, and so did I, but our baggage was incompatible. He’d been hurt enough by Mara. I couldn’t add any weight to his load. He was a great guy who deserved someone uncomplicated. And me? I wasn’t quite sure what I deserved. If you asked Tom’s wife, I’m pretty sure she’d say I deserved to burn in hell. But I wouldn’t be asking her anytime soon.

“I assume you’re not going to tell me why you think you wouldn’t work?” Frannie asked.

“Nope,” I said with a pop.

“I’ll torture it out of you one day. I know there’s a salacious story there.”

Smiling, I raised my beer to my mouth. “Maybe one day.”

“You tease.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “That’s not what Avi said.”

Frannie snorted with laughter, and I joined her, giggling over my ridiculousness. I couldn’t imagine hanging out with Frannie and not feeling better. She just had this way about her of making things light, but also being fiercely protective of the people in her tight circle.

I rested my head on her shoulder. “I love you, Frananas. You always make me feel better.”

She laid her head on top of mine. “Love you too, L. I just want you to be happy.”

My chest tightened, filling with emotion I couldn’t quite articulate. I’d always been silly and down for a laugh, the first in line for the party, but had I been happy? I wasn’t sure. I did know that since I bought my house and started my new job—and if I was honest with myself, since I met Avi—I’d been really content with the direction of my life, for the most part. But really happy? That was still a work in progress.

I lifted my head, waving my hands in front of my face. “Enough about me. How are you?”

“Oh, the same. James and I are still debating what kind of wedding we want. Would you murder me if we just courthoused it with his parents and Ryan, then had a big party here or at the farm?”

I gasped, feigning offense. “I would never murder you! Permanently maim, perhaps…” I laughed. “Frannie, you should absolutely have whatever kind of wedding you want. If that’s just you and James, his parents and brother, then that’s what you should do.”

Frannie’s focus was on her fiancé, who was at the end of the bar restocking the liquor. We both paused to admire his inhumanly broad shoulders and gorgeous ginger beard.

“You’re a lucky lady,” I said.

“I know I am, believe me. And I know he’d get married in front of a thousand people if that’s what I wanted.”

“Do you want that?”

She propped her chin on her fist. “You know me. Marriage was never on my horizon. James is so shy, he’d go along with a giant wedding, but he wouldn’t enjoy it. Besides, can you picture me in some big poofy dress and a tiara?”

“I think you’re more of a sexy slip dress and birdcage veil kind of girl.”

She banged the bar with her palm. “That’s it! Even if we get married at the courthouse, you’re going dress shopping with me. I need to have a birdcage veil now that you’ve put the idea into my head!”

“I’d be honored to go dress shopping with you, my friend.”

“Okay, well now that we’ve settled my wedding, we have to plan Rachel’s baby shower.”

My eyes widened. “Uh, why me?”

“Because I volunteered, which means you volunteered too.”

“I wasn’t aware it worked that way.”

She lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “It does.”

“I’m going to have to Google this. And Pinterest. Oh! Can we wear hats? I haven’t gotten much use out of my hat collection lately!”

Frannie snapped her fingers. “Laurel, you’re a genius! Let’s have a tea party!”

“What do we know about tea parties?” I asked.

She laughed. “Jack shit. But I think people wear hats and eat little sandwiches.”

“Can the tea actually be mimosas?”

“I think Rachel might be a little offended if everyone got smashed at her baby shower.”

I pouted. “Fine. I’ll drink tea. But I draw the line at identifying melted candy bars in diapers.”

“Deal. I think the shower is planned!”

I bobbed my head enthusiastically. “Yep. We’ve got hats, tea, and little sandwiches. What more could possibly go into a baby shower?”

We spent the next hour Googling baby showers, learning that, as it turned out, a helluva lot more went into baby showers. I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d gotten roped into this, but I’d take my role seriously. And I’d decided my role would be to ensure all of the guests had big, fabulous, floppy hats.

Before I left, James stopped by to give me an amazing, all-encompassing hug. Frannie and I hugged too, and while her long, thin arms weren’t quite as snuggly as James’, I still felt ten times lighter because of it. Frannie and I agreed to make a date to go dress shopping and shower plan, and then I headed out.

When I stepped outside, I was surprised to see the sun had started to set. The day had gotten away from me somehow. I also realized I was starving, so I stopped at the grocery store to pick up ingredients for dinner.

It was also possible I was stalling.

When I got home, I was greeted with silence. No tap, tap, bang, no television, no Avi. I convinced myself that was for the best. We didn’t need to rehash why we shouldn’t have sex again. And honestly, if I saw him, I might forget every single reason I’d come up with.

I made myself a simple vegetable soup, and took it, along with the bread I’d made that morning, to the living room for a carpet picnic for one. Even though I’d already watched both seasons, I started an episode of Jessica Jones. I couldn’t resist her badassery.

One episode turned into three, and I was in the midst of watching Jessica kick yet another person’s ass when Avi came home.

“There’s soup in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” I called.

He walked into the living room, his cheeks rosy from the cold. “I’m good. I had dinner with Josef.”

I nodded, turning back to the TV. To my surprise, Avi sat next to me on the floor, his long legs stretched in front of him.

“I finished removing the tile. I’ll put down the new tile this week.”

I glanced at him, trying to hold my breath so I didn’t inhale his addictive scent. “Thank you. I can’t wait to see it.”

He kept his eyes on the TV, so I took my time looking at him. His profile belonged on a sculpture. His nose was prominent, a straight path in the middle of his face. His lips were soft, the bottom one fuller than the top. And he had indecently long and thick eyelashes, the kind that were sometimes wasted on a man. Only his weren’t wasted. They framed warm brown eyes that were always on the move, taking everything in.

Without glancing my way, he said, “Look at the television, Laurel.”

I’d been caught. It wasn’t like I’d been lowkey in my staring, though. “Does Yo live close by?”

“Yeah, he has an apartment in Fell’s Point.”

“I was over in Fell’s with Frannie. That’s where James’ bar is.”

“Bar Royal, right? I’ve been there with Josef.” He tapped his fingers on his leg, then turned to me. “Did you talk to Frannie about me?”

I pushed his shoulder. “None of your goddamn business, dude!”

One corner of his mouth tugged up. “So you did?”

“You’re making me miss Jessica Jones. Shush.”

I made an attempt to pay attention to the show, but I felt Avi’s eyes on me and knew he had one of those smug smiles on his face.

“Look at the TV, Avi.”

He yawned, stretching his arms over his head, then lowering them onto the couch behind us. His fingers brushed over my shoulder, and he picked up a piece of my hair, toying with it.

“That was a very classic move,” I said.

“What?”

“The old ‘yawn and stretch.’ Classic.”

“I don’t know what you mean. It must be an American thing.”

I almost believed him, but then his hand started creeping lower until it rested directly above my breast. I snorted out a laugh and could feel the vibrations of Avi chuckling next to me. If any other guy tried this, I’d be kicking his ass, but I knew Avi was trying to drive me crazy.

I let my hand rest on his thigh, slowly edging toward his crotch.

He shifted. “What are you doing?”

I shrugged innocently. “Oh, nothing. Just watching TV.”

He grabbed my wrist. “Don’t do that if you’re not going to follow through.”

I scooted away from him, his arm on my shoulder dropping back to the couch. “Can we just watch TV and pretend this afternoon never happened?”

He was quiet for a beat, and I thought he’d let me off the hook. Then he brushed my hair away from my ear and whispered, “I can pretend, if that is really what you want. But I will never forget what you sound like when I’m making you scream. When you see me looking at you, that’s what I’m thinking about.”

He unfolded his body from the floor and sauntered away. Before he went downstairs to the basement, he called back, “I also do not like superheroes!”

Well, that confirmed what I’d been pretty sure about: we’d never work.

If only my body and heart and brain would believe it.