“She’s protective of you.” Penny’s fingers curl around the stem of a champagne flute. “It’s sweet.”

“She doesn’t trust you.”

“I wouldn’t either.” She takes a small sip of bubbly.

“You think you have to tell me that?”

“I trusted you.”

That’s not how I remember it. Not the last few years. It didn’t make sense then. I was always loyal to her.

But that didn’t matter.

Cheating wears down your trust. If you see a cheater every time you look in the mirror, you start to look for them other places.

If you realize you’ve been sleeping next to a cheater for two years…

I want to be able to trust Leighton completely. But, fuck, it’s hard.

“I didn’t trust other women. I knew how they looked at you,” she says.

“What are you getting at, Pen?”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have her.”

“Both can be true.” She taps the bar with her French-manicured finger. “I thought about what you said.”

“You’re the one who said shit.”

“Okay. About what I said. I was too harsh.”

“You’re taking it back?”

“No. I meant every word. But it’s not fair for me to blame you for what I did. It was innocent with Frank at first. We were friends. But I realized I was falling for him and I kept meeting him for lunch. I kept crying on his shoulder. I kept soaking up every one of his secrets.” She sets her glass on the bar. “I knew what I was doing when I went to his place the first time. Deep down, I knew I needed to end things with you first. I really am sorry about that. I’m sorry I made you feel like it was your fault.”

I bring my glass to my lips.

“It wasn’t. We weren’t meant to be, but that was my fault, not yours.”

I shake my head. “You were right. I stopped respecting you. I started putting up walls.”

Her shoulders relax. “Thanks for saying that.”

“It’s not for you, Pen. It’s for me.”

“It seems like it worked out.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s fiery.”

I laugh. “She is.”

Penny laughs. “I guess that’s always been your type.” She brings her glass to her lips and takes a sip. “Are you happy with her?”

My jaw cricks. It feels good, accepting her apology, offering mine. But I can’t have Penny in my head or my heart anymore. “Don’t ask me shit like that.”

“I care about you.”

The words twist something in my brain. They’re too familiar and too different. I want every ounce of them and none of them. “Then stop.”

“Ryan.” Her nails dig into the stem of her flute.

“You lost the right to say my name that way a long time ago.”

She sinks into her heels. “I’m sorry.”

“Then prove it by respecting me—”

“I do.”

Bourbon warms my throat. Sends my thoughts swimming.

“Mom is watching us.” Penny nods to her mom, sitting on the couch with her dad. Mrs. Winters looks the same as always—pretty, well-dressed, some mix of classy and grown up wild child. “She’s glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I swallow another sip of bourbon. “You look happy.”

“I am.”

“Good.”

She looks up at me. “Really?”

“I always wanted that for you.”

“Even after I—”

“Not at that moment.” But now, I do. I want to let go of that last bit of hate in my gut. I want to be free of her. “You love him as much as it looks like you do?”

Her honey eyes light up. “I really do.”

My throat tightens, but a deep breath opens my airways. “Good.”

“But the wedding stuff is driving me crazy.”

“That’s normal, isn’t it?”

“I guess so.” She takes a long sip. “I didn’t realize Dad was going to be this hands on. I get he wants to use this as some bullshit write off, but it’s still a wedding, not a business meeting. I try to tell Frank that, but he just reminds me Dad’s footing the bill.”

“He is.”

“I know. And I know I’m lucky. But I wish he ‘got it.’”

I arch a brow.

“Working at his company is a headache. Dad nixed my idea about a feminist column. He thinks it will alienate half our demo even though we’re a women’s interest site. When I told Frank, he took Dad’s side—”

“That’s just stupidity.”

She laughs.

“Every guy knows better.”

“Maybe. I’m glad he’s honest with me, but—”

“Nobody’s perfect.”

“Yeah.” She takes a long sip. “It felt good, being pissed about the injustice of it. But it would have felt better doing something other than dealing with makeup advertisers.” She looks up at me. “Sorry. I know you hate hearing about my job.”

I do. But that’s not what’s weird about this.

It’s how much I see the Penny I fell in love with.

She’s still there, under the layer of business casual. At least, a part of her is.

And a part of me wants her.

But it’s smaller than it used to be.

Quieter.

“I can’t believe I let Mom talk me into this party.” She finishes her glass and sets it on the bar. “It’s as bad as my eighteenth birthday.”

“Can’t be that bad.”

She laughs. “No. I guess not. But it’s pretty bad. This is my first interesting conversation all night.”

“You don’t show it.”

“I know how to play Daddy’s girl, I guess.”

I nod. She fought with her dad a lot when we were younger, but she always knew how to get him on her side.

“It’s all bizarre and formal.” She smooths her ivory dress. “Not how a bachelorette party is supposed to feel.”

“You need to tuck some ones into a stripper’s g-string?”

She laughs. “Pretty much.”

“Dean’s somewhere.”

“Dean hates me.”

“Use reverse psychology. Tell him you hate strippers. He’ll call one to ruin your night.”

“I’ll consider that.” Her fingers brush my wrist as she brings her hands to her side. “But what if he starts stripping?”

“Not sure there’s any way to prevent that.” I scan the room for my brother, but he’s not in my eye line. “You had to know that was a risk with inviting him.”

“True.” Her eyes linger on me. There’s an affection in her gaze, but it’s not an invitation. It’s something else. “It really is good to see you happy.”

“Thanks.” I finish my last sip of bourbon. “I better find my girl.”

Her smile is soft. “Don’t let her mess it up.”

If only I had any fucking control over that.

My shoulders relax as Penny turns and walks away. It’s easier talking to her, but it still steals the warmth in the room.

I replace it with bourbon.

Leighton isn’t in the living room—her purple hair makes her easy to find. I check the hallway. The bathroom. The kitchen.

There.

She’s sitting at the dining table, dipping carrots into hummus, nodding along to whatever Penny’s best friend Kristen is saying.

Kristen’s dark eyes light up when she sees me. She leans in to whisper something to Leighton. From her posture, it’s clear it’s some gossip about me.

“There you are, baby.” I move to the dining table with confident steps. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

Kristen’s face goes ghost white. She stutters something. Shoots Leighton an apologetic stare. “Ryan, hey. It’s been forever.” She pushes herself to her feet. Moves in for a hug.

I offer her my hand.

She shakes with a nervous laugh. “I forgot you aren’t big on touching.”

“He’s not like that with me.” Leighton pats the chair next to her. “I was worried I was going to have to save you from a boring conversation.”

“But weren’t you just talking to Penny?” Kristen clears her throat. “I mean. Um. Are you two good? You and Penny? Don’t tell her I said this, but it was awful the way she ended things.”

The world is upside down today.

Penny is admitting wrong doing.

Kristen is apologizing.

Leighton is… I don’t fucking know what.

“Thanks.” I sit next to Leighton.

She slides onto my lap. Curls her arm around my neck and rests it on my shoulders. “Doesn’t he look amazing in this?” She fingers the collar of my suit jacket. “I can’t get over it.”

“Like high school graduation.” She smiles. “But more hair.”

“Ryan had short hair?” Leighton runs her fingers through my locks. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. A buzz cut. And the glasses—do you still wear those?”

Leighton runs her fingers along my cheek. She looks down at me. “A buzz cut?”

“Penny likes short hair. She was really upset when he grew it out. Which is kind of ridiculous. Honestly, you look way hotter with long hair, Ryan.” Kristen blushes. “I mean…” She clears her throat. “Don’t worry. I have a boyfriend.”

Leighton turns back to her. “I’m not. You’d have to be blind to miss how smoking hot Ryan is.”

Kristen smiles. “Where’d you find someone so fun, Ryan? I expected to see you with someone more like you.”

Leighton laughs so hard she doubles over.

I slide my arms around her waist. “Baby, that hurts.”

“I know. I’m such a bitch for laughing at that. But—” She bursts into another fit of giggles. “You know what vodka does to me.” She turns back to me. Stares into my eyes with every ounce of earnest in the world. “You’re fun. You just don’t let anyone else know it.”

Her eyelids flutter closed.

She leans in.

Brushes her lips against mine.

It’s soft. A kiss for show.

But my body demands more. My palm plants on her soft thigh. My fingers dig into her skin. My tongue slides into her mouth.

She tugs at my hair as she kisses me back.

Fuck, I feel her everywhere.

The taste of her. Vodka and lemon and something distinctly Leighton.

The smell of that coconut shampoo.

Her nails against my skin.

I need more.

I need all of her.

I need her naked under me.

She pulls back with a sigh. “Fuck.”

Fuck is right.

In too many ways.

Kristen stares at us dumbfounded. She clears her throat. “I guess that’s one way to make it up to him.”

She’s still as tactless as ever. I’ll give her that much.

Leighton squirms in my lap as she laughs. Her cunt brushes against my cock—there too much and not enough fabric between us—and her cheeks flush.

Her eyes bore into mine.

They beg me to rip off her clothes.

But this is still fucked.

She’s still not mine.

Even if it feels like she is.

Even if every fucking second of this feels real.

“You, uh… how’s the shop?” Kristen snaps a potato chip in half.

“Good. Ryan’s a co-owner now.” Leighton slides onto her seat. Presses her knees together. Fights a blush. “He’s basically the boss.”

“Oh, wow. Good for you. I always thought you were a good fit for tattoos,” she says.

“Feels like I should take offense to that,” I say.

“It’s clearly a compliment.” Leighton looks to Kristen. “Though I’m not sure what it means.”

“You’re just so… counter-culture, I guess. I could always tell you wanted to be somewhere besides our stuck-up school. And you have that look. Like a damaged musician or something.”

“I love damaged musicians.”

“Oh my God, what about that one guy who moans twenty-four seven? With the blue eyes? Kind of like Ryan’s. But hotter. No offense, Ryan.”

“I know exactly who you mean.” Leighton winks at me then turns back to Kristen.

“He’s so hot, isn’t he?”

“And so damaged.”

“He’s a recovering drug addict, you know?”

Leighton nods oh, I know.

“Did you hear their latest album? It’s dedicated to his wife. And it’s just so… OMG.” Kristen fans herself.

“Fuck. I miss something good?” Dean’s voice booms through the kitchen.

“Yeah. We just finished a threesome. It’s too bad. We were desperate for a fourth. So desperate we considered you.” Leighton winks at Dean.

Kristen laughs. “It’s good to see you too, Dean. You’re so tall now.”

“I was this tall last time you saw me,” he says.

“Really?” She taps her shoes together. “Maybe I’m shrinking. It sucks being short.”

Dean nods maybe and moves closer. “You want to do something fun tonight, Kristen?”

She beams over him remembering her name. “Sure.”

“Twenty minutes. Out front. Limo.” He smiles.

“Do I even want to ask?” Leighton shoots him a cutting look.

“You don’t have to come to the real party if you’d rather go home,” he says.

I’d rather take her home and fuck her senseless.

Which is exactly why I need to go.

“What’s the real party?” I ask.

“There’s one thing you need to have at a bachelor party.” Dean smiles. “Everyone’s coming. And maybe some people will be coming. It’s supposed to be a classy joint, but you never know.” His smile gets wicked.

Leighton whispers in my ear. “He doesn’t mean—”

“Yeah, he does.”