MY PALMS SURROUND MY coffee cup at the Riverwalk coffee shop Monday morning. My cousin Maritza should be here any minute, which is good because I need a distraction since I can’t stop thinking about yesterday and the insanity that transpired in the living room.

Sutter was gone when I woke up this morning, already at work.

And while I should be thinking about how weird it was to sleep with him last night and how potentially complicated this could get, all I’m thinking about is how good it was.

No.

Good is an understatement. It’s too generic for what that was.

Mind-blowing? Amazing? Earth-rocking? Out of this world incredible?

Last night deserves all the heart-eyes and praise-hand emoji’s.

Unlike most twenty something guys, he actually knew what he was doing. He didn’t treat me like a blowup doll, didn’t avoid eye contact. He didn’t get his rocks off and ditch me the second it was over. Instead we sort of collapsed on top of each other and he wrapped his arms around me—not in a romantic sort of way, but in a relaxed, that-was-so-good-I-can’t-move-so-I’ll-hold-you-for-a-while kind of way.

I don’t want to give him too much credit, but he might be the best lay I’ve ever had …

Of course I’d never tell him that. His head’s already big enough.

And who knows? Maybe it all boiled down to the fact that neither of us like each other so there was no pressure to impress? We were just two savage, sexual beings going at it the way nature intended.

True, unadulterated no-strings sex.

I take a sip of coffee as the bells on the coffee shop door jangle, and in walks my cousin, peeling a pair of giant sunglasses off her face as she grins. Her dark waves bounce on her shoulders and her hands are stretched in my direction. I rise, wrapping my arms around her. The two of us grew up as only children and she’s the only cousin I have on my dad’s side. In a way, we’re more like sisters than cousins.

It feels weird meeting up with her every once in a while, when we used to see each other every single day, and yet living with her almost feels like a lifetime ago.

“So what’s new?” she asks, sitting down after she orders a coffee.

“Same old,” I say, sipping my coffee. “Auditioning like crazy. Actually have one right after this for some headache medicine commercial my agent found.”

“Still taking classes?”

“Always. Have to hone my craft,” I say with a wink. And it’s true. If there’s anything Gram taught me, it’s to stay humble and never assume your talent has reached its pinnacle. No matter how good you think you are, you can always be better.

“So how’s the roommate thing going?”

I roll my eyes and feel a smile attempting to emerge, but I glance down and fight it off.

“What?” she asks. “What is that face?”

“Nothing.” My eyes narrow.

“No. You made a face. What is it? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I say it harder, as if it could possibly bear more weight that way. “He’s just really annoying and I was thinking of something he did and it made me laugh.”

“Annoying like how? And what’d he do?”

“Just … he just … I don’t know …”

Maritza leans closer. “Why are you tripping over your words? That’s not like you.”

“You’re putting me on the spot,” I say.

“Oh my god, you slept with him.” Her hand covers her mouth and she chokes back a laugh.

“What? Why would you automatically jump to that?”

“Because I know you. And because I can tell. The way you’re acting. It’s all over your face,” she says. She may not have been bitten by the acting bug, but Gram made sure she, too, knew how to read people.

“It’s a life skill,” she’d always say.

I palm my drink. “It was a one-time thing. It’s not going to happen again.”

I can’t lie to her anyway. She knows all my ‘tells.’ She knows when my eyebrows twitch or my nose crinkles or I’m looking to the left too much.

“You’ve only lived with him for what, a week or two?”

“I know. I know,” I say.

“Don’t you think that’s going to make things weird? You still have, like, six months together, right?”

“Yes,” I say. “Everything you’re saying out loud are all the things I’ve already thought. No need to lecture.”

“I’m not lecturing,” she says. “This isn’t like you. I’m intrigued, I guess. How does something like that happen? You hate casual sex.”

I shake my head. “We were fighting over a remote and one thing led to another.”

Her head cocks. “You were fighting over a remote and then you had sex? Just like that?”

“I know how it sounds.” I scan the coffee shop, desperate for a distraction or a familiar face I can scamper off and say ‘hi’ to, anything. “Anyway, so how’s Isaiah?”

My transition is bumpy at best, but I don’t care. I have to change the subject. I don’t want to talk about the thing that’s been on my mind since the moment it happened. I’m still trying to figure out what the hell it means and what it’s going to mean going forward, and I can’t do that with my cousin hurling a million questions at me a minute.

She pulls in a breath and lets it go. “He deploys again in a few weeks, so we’re trying to spend as much time together as possible.”

“How is that different from any other time?” I ask, wrapping my palms around my coffee, grateful for the new topic. “You two are inseparable.”

Her lips wear a dopey, teenager-in-love grin. “Yeah. I guess we kind of are.”

Everything about Maritza glows, like it has from the moment that boy showed up in her life. I’ve never met two people so different yet so right for each other. Honestly, they bring out the best in each other and I couldn’t be happier for the two of them.

“How’s school going?” I ask.

“Same. Oh! Did Gram tell you? I finally quit Brentwood Pancake and Coffee,” she says. “End of an era. Miss my coworkers, but I don’t miss having to argue with every single customer who thinks they need more than one pancake and that the posted rules don’t apply to them.”

“I never did understand that,” I say.

We finish our coffee, gossiping about Gram and her new guy “friend” who happens to send her flowers every Friday and make her giggle like a schoolgirl. Ever since the two of us moved out of the guesthouse, he seems to be coming around more. Or at least that’s what Maritza heard from one of Gram’s neighbors.

Checking my watch a while later, I exhale. “I should get going. Need to let Murphy out and get ready for that audition.”

Maritza rises from her seat, pouting as she spreads her arms and comes closer. My head tucks right beneath hers when I go in for a hug, reminding me that I’ll forever be jealous of her height. It isn’t fair that God gave it to someone who has no use for it.

Heading back to the house, I squint over my dash when I spot Sutter’s truck parked in the driveway, which is odd because he’s never home in the middle of the day.

When I get inside, I find him sprawled out on the sofa, watching some basketball highlights on ESPN while simultaneously scrolling through his phone.

“What are you doing home?” I ask, hanging my bag on the back of a chair.

“We’re just waiting for inspections. Can’t do anything until the city approves the work we’ve done,” he says, eyes glued to the screen.

I have a few minutes, so I take a seat across from him. “So you’re just going to hang out here all day?”

“Yep.” He stretches his arms behind his head.

“I have an audition in a little bit,” I say. I’m sure my small talk annoys him but I’m testing him, trying to figure out if he’s truly being short with me or if it’s my imagination, if he’s one of those guys who are well versed in pretending nothing happened after he screws you. “I’m going to let Murphy out then I’m going to go to that, so …”

I study him.

“O … kay,” he says, like he’s unsure of why I’m telling him this.

It’s not like I expect us to be best friends because we slept together, but would it kill him to be cordial?

Clearing my throat, I angle my body toward him. “So … about last night.”

His eyes move to mine. “Oh. So we’re not going to pretend it didn’t happen?”

I cock my head, speechless.

“You’re an ass.” I rise, shaking my head. Not at him. At myself. I should’ve known better. I should have gone with my gut.

Sure. His kisses were fire and the way he touched me ignited my body in ways I hadn’t ever expected, but I should’ve stopped before I took it too far.

I’m an idiot.

It’s official.

“I wasn’t going to make a thing out of this but I feel like since we live together, we should probably address what happened. Or at the very least, act like adults and accept that it happened.”

“All right. It happened. What’s there to talk about?”

I shrug. “Nothing. I guess. Or maybe that it’s never going to happen again.”

Sutter smirks.

“I’m being serious,” I say.

“I know you are. That’s why this is so goddamn hilarious.”

“If I’d have known you were going to be such an asshole about it, it never would’ve happened in the first place,” I tell him. I don’t understand men. How they can be so hot and cold and have the audacity to say we are the hot and cold ones.

Pretty sure Sutter takes the cake on cold and heartless assholes.

“I’m done with this conversation.” I head up to my room and get Murphy to let him out. I’m crouched down at his kennel a minute later, working on the latch, when my bedroom door swings open.

I turn around to find Sutter standing in my doorway.

“You can’t just barge in here,” I rise, arms folded and heart hammering. I can’t breathe, the way he looks at me like he’s a lion and I’m a mouse and I have no chance in hell of getting away because he wants me.

“I feel like the only reason you wanted to talk about what happened was because you do want it to happen again,” he says.

“You’re delusional.”

And maybe the tiniest bit right …

“So fine, Melrose. Let’s talk about it.” Hands in his pockets, he steps closer to me, shoulders shrugging as his lips toy with a smile. “You had fun, right?”

The word is stuck in my throat for a moment, but I clear it away. “Yes.”

“Me too.”

“You think I’m really fucking hot, right?”

I nod.

“Likewise,” he says. “But you can’t stand me.”

“Exactly.”

Somehow I find myself backed up against the wall, Sutter standing so close the woodsy, intoxicating remnants of his aftershave invade my lungs.

“So what should we do about this?” he asks. I swallow the lump in my throat as his fingers slip beneath my chin, positioning my mouth so it aligns perfectly with his.

The heat between my thighs intensifies, and I struggle to breathe, choked with anticipation. Scenes from last night play in my mind, flashes and snippets, his skin against mine, his cock sliding deeper and deeper inside me.

Sutter lowers his mouth to mine, our lips barely grazing.

Tease.

“I need to get ready for my audition,” I manage to say in the microseconds leading up to what would’ve been a mind-blowing kiss.

The space between us widens, but not by much, and the sensation of his fingertips grazing against my hips, sends a spray of goosebumps down my arms.

“That’s too bad,” he says, voice low in his throat.

Our eyes hold.

“Good luck with your audition,” he says.

And then he’s gone.