It was the faint echo of a man’s laugh that brought me slowly into awareness. My mind took in the sound of my surroundings, the body following suit. And not before long, my eyes gradually debuted themselves, greeted by the sharp brightness of the room.

I was in a middle of a small groan, feeling the mind-numbing pain travelling from the tip of my foot to my hip, more so my foot. It felt as though someone were squeezing it so hard they were almost about to crush my bones. Shitcakes. It wasn’t the greatest of feelings to wake up to.

Frightened to move an inch of my lower body, I shifted my face to the side to check the time and was taken aback at what I found, instead. There was my medication next to a bottle of water and my crutches casually leaning against the table.

A deep frown creased my face. I blinked a few times before my eyes took in all the items, and then a quick, vivid flashback of last night’s events made me lose my breath. What the flying fuck had I done?

“Did I really try to hump the bathtub?” Holy cunty! “Was I that high or what?” Obviously, I had been beyond high, though I had to take into account that, despite being out of my mind, I had taken pleasure from everything that happened. I could catalogue each passing second that he had touched me, biting my neck before he nibbled on the back of my earlobe with his feral lips and tongue while giving me one of the best orgasms I’d had in my life. Well, I had to take into account that there hadn’t been many, so there wasn’t much to compare it with. Nevertheless, I had acted like a shameless cunty, and so I must face the backlash in my walk of shame, which would happen quite soon. I cringed silently and colorfully cursed myself until I ran out of vocabulary.

Blowing out a breath, I ran a hand through my hair before my eyes dropped, and I noted that I was wearing a shirt that wasn’t mine, a black shirt that was rather too large for my frame. It had to be Drew’s. Helpless, I lifted it to my nose, breathing in his familiar scent. That musk that was all him reminded me of his feral eyes, those lips, a tongue that could make me lose my name, his teeth that deliciously dug into my skin and absolutely whetted my arousal to new heights.

I want him. Still.

The silent admission didn’t shock me, but what would I do about it? And if I did decide to do something, what was I willing to sacrifice? Because I wouldn’t come out of it unscathed, not with him. Never with him. This was Drew Cavendish, my Drew Cavendish. I had known him since childhood. I knew what he preferred and despised, how he privately dealt with his pain. I knew how his mother’s death troubled him far more than he cared to admit, that on Sundays, he particularly felt more alone than any other day. He was as guarded as he was generous. He was the guy who had secretly watched chick flicks with me. He had gifted me sweet nothings all throughout my life; my old room was littered with little tokens from him.

Yes, it wasn’t a hardship falling for him. The man used to be the center of my universe. The rest of the world was black and white, while he solely existed in vivid colors. He took care of me in ways no one ever had. Even last night, in a wicked way, he had relieved me from my own misery without wanting anything in exchange. True, I might have been quite a pitiful sight while I had become a demented horny woman, but even still, he hadn’t laughed at me. Instead, he’d offered his expertise to release the unsated wantonness side of me. Only he could achieve such a feat. Only he could bring me to such unadulterated ecstasy.

Left with such a weighty dilemma, I pondered while I took ahold of the small medication bottle, opened, and released one big pill before washing it down with the water he had also provided. Before I could prolong my wondering, though, his amused laughter echoed through the hall. It was profound since my door was left ajar, as if he had been consistently checking in on me throughout the night.

Whom was he talking to who made him laugh like that? It was no business of mine, but I couldn’t help wondering. Whomever it was, it was someone he truly liked. He wasn’t one to be easily amused by women, because when he was with them, he aimed for a different entertainment, and laughter wasn’t usually part of that.

Both he and my brother had indubitably changed since they had moved here. Was I the only one bothered by it? They seemed to accept it as though it weren’t a big deal.

How could anyone throw away years of friendship? I couldn’t imagine doing the same thing to Courtney. My conscience wouldn’t let me sleep a wink if I was indirectly hurting her.

But like Drew had stated before, people changed. And if they both had, how did one deal with a familiar stranger? The question applied to them both just as it did with me in regards to Drew alone. He was a familiar stranger. Familiar because we had a past and years upon years of memories together, but a stranger since I didn’t know his heart, how the workings of his mind ticked—well, not anymore. He used to open up to me before that night had taken place.

My heart sank at the thought of the past. After all those tears, the unending hard work of trying to move on exorcising his memory from my mind, from my heart—they were all for naught. After all, here I was, back to square one, figuring out how to survive this with less damage to my heart.

Yes, I was bracing for the inevitable. How and when that would take place, I had no fucking clue. All I knew was I was trying to act smart about it by trying to protect myself, even if it was on a miniscule scale. Whatever happened, I vowed never to be like I had been before: the zombie-like Chloe who lived and breathed with one purpose in mind—Drew Cavendish.

First loves, from what I had gathered, were the ones that scarred you for the rest of your existence. Whoever said that had seriously gone through some mental and deep psychotic shit, a subject beyond relatable to me.

I moved to sit on the edge of my bed before grabbing the crutches. My right hand added some serious pressure while I maneuvered to stand on one foot, leveling myself until I was fully aware and balanced with the crutches securely tucked under my arms. Blowing out a reassuring breath, I took a small yet steady step forward, needing to use the bathroom. Getting there felt as though I were slower than a turtle, but I managed to accomplish the feat with no accident, which made me proud of myself.

There was no doubt that my life for the next four to six weeks—if that—would be done at a snail’s pace. God help me while trying to work this thing around campus. I had never felt so much for the disabled. Such brave souls to do what they did each day, and they did it with a smile. I shouldn’t complain, really. Life could be worse. With that positive perspective in mind, I carried on toward the door.

I wasn’t going to lie; I was terrified of what our conversation would be like after last night, but I would rather it happened right this instant than let it fester like a rotten wound. It would worsen if not treated. It was an extreme comparison, but he had been my wound … and he had never fully healed. I had merely applied a Band-Aid to it and wished it away, fooling myself into believing I was well and truly over him. Each passing day here in New York had proved to me otherwise.

It was another problem to be tackled later on. For the time being, I had to make sure things were peachy between us.

When I found him in the living room, I stood a few feet away, studying him discreetly. Bare-chested, he only wore navy jogger pants, holding the phone against his ear as he paced the room, never noticing my presence. There was no denying how drop dead beautiful he was. Handsome didn’t fit him well. Beautiful was slightly more fitting. From his toes to his strong hands, the honed six-layered abdomen, his muscular body from years of surfing and mountain biking, his lashes that put mine to shame, his jaw, the face—fucking everything. I couldn’t find a fault, and that was just his physical attributes. Double down on his mental skills, and the guy was lethal. Above it all, I would rather he had some imperfections than his emotional incapability.

For as long as I had known him, he had never been in a relationship. Of course, he’d gone on dates, but he had never taken the chance to test how he would fair in being involved. Before, I had pinned it down to being selective. I couldn’t be too sure anymore. In some ways, he remained an enigma to me.

“… Cancel … Something came up … yeah… nah…” He let out an enthused laugh before he tugged the hair on the side of his head, quite absorbed with the conversation.

My eyes trained on him, analyzing. If I didn’t know any better, I could accuse him of being happy, which was as troubling as it was bizarre.

“I’ll stop by soon … yeah … okay… I will … you, too.”

I caught him smiling before he ended the call. Casually strolling toward the hall, he found me. A puzzled look crossed his features as if he were trying to figure out if I had been eavesdropping or not. Had he asked if I was, I wouldn’t deny it. Fortunately for me, he merely shrugged before giving the same dashing smile that he had moments ago, blinding me.

“Can I carry you anywhere, little missy?” He beamed as he came to greet me, gazing at me with a soft, thoughtful look on his face.

Okay … I had to admit that line made me smile like an idiot. For an icebreaker, it wasn’t bad. Not bad, indeed.

“I’m good for now. Thanks for thinking ahead by placing the meds on the table. That was very nice of you.” Without it, I doubted I would have had enough strength to endure going to the kitchen.

Instead of responding, he decided to carry on a different conversation. “Are you hungry? Since you’re obviously not pleased with my cooking skills, I can pick up food from any restaurant you fancy.”

How did he come up with such irrational ideas? Last night, I truly hadn’t had an appetite.

“You’re cooking is amazing—as I’ve told you over the years—so don’t insult me like that. You know better. But to answer your question, no, I’m not hungry, but I’d love a glass of juice.”

“You almost never are these days,” he said. “I’ll let you slide this time, but promise me you’re going to eat a full meal today, and when I say ‘full meal,’ I’m not talking about cheese, crackers, or BLT sandwiches, Chlo.”

“Sure. So long as that shuts you up about food.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, woman.” He beamed before carefully carrying me and my crutches to the couch. He was so attentively thorough he made sure to place a pillow under my foot, elevating it before securing a few more cushions at my back, easing the pressure.

“Thank you,” I murmured with a warm smile.

“You’re very welcome, babe,” he replied then strolled toward the kitchen to pour me my refreshment.

It felt mighty great to be properly cared for by a man. Hell, how long had it been? Never. Yeah, I was a relationship virgin. Frowning at the sudden realization of my age, I wondered if that made me a bad candidate to be deemed as one.

I admitted I hadn’t given it much thought. I had dated countless times, but never in a romantic way…well, not on my part, anyway. Then again, who was in a hurry to be tied down to a commitment?

Look at Courtney. I loved her to bits, and she was just as carefree as I had been before, yet after she had gotten into her relationship, she had become riddled with all sorts of problems, doubts and insecurities. It was normal, she said, but I shook my head and called her downright delusional. That was what best friends were for—they said things that one didn’t want to hear, but they stated them, anyway

With all that drama, topped with the crux of my failed love life, who would have the time to sort and deal with anything? Pondering about it already exhausted me, so I could only imagine what it would be like to deal with it in reality. Being single would be the most logical solution … until I met someone who could literally turn my world upside down, inside out. Only then would I consider being in a relationship. Oh, wait, I already had. I guessed until another man could change my mind, in which case, I hoped he understood what he was competing against.

All those nonsensical but typical crazy thoughts aside, Drew’s unyielding campaign to feed me non-stop wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. It was best I got used to it. And since he was the only person who could help me for the next few days, I was stuck with his strict eating regimen consisting of massive carbs, boatloads of grease, fatty meats with a side of bloating, and a serious case of heart attack. Since he worked out, he could easily sweat it off without looking like he had just stuffed himself.

I was at his mercy until the weekend…

Food and a half-naked Drew Cavendish … only my two top favorite things in life. Both could only be consumed in small doses. Both were my worst fixations.

Both were determined to tempt me to sin again.