I changed into another t-shirt and a pair of jeans and met her by the front door, my gym bag over my shoulder. She had put her shoes back on but her hair was still tied back, that brown-red color that looked different under different light. I’d be having boner dreams for weeks remembering what she’d looked like throwing punches, all those curves alive and moving.

“Sorry,” I said. “There isn’t a women’s changing room here.”

She shrugged. “I’ll be sweaty, I guess.”

“I didn’t shower. So we’re both dirty.”

She paused at the word. Then she frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Too bad,” I replied. “Where we’re going, it doesn’t matter.”

She hefted her bag. “Where are we going?”

I pushed open the door and led her down the street. “Papaya Hut.”

“What is a papaya hut?”

“It’s a place that makes the best milkshakes you’ve ever tasted. And if you’re worrying about fat, don’t. I have no clue what they put in those things, but it isn’t cream.”

“Please,” she said, catching up and following at my shoulder. “Do I look like a woman who worries about fat?”

“It’s legal to have an ass, Evie Bates,” I said, pushing open the door to Papaya Hut. “Some of us even like it. If someone tells you you’re fat, now you know how to punch their teeth in.”

She was quiet after that.

The Hut was just a long, narrow space with a counter along one wall below a hand-lettered menu. I chose the blueberry-flavored shake, and she picked chocolate. She was still quiet as we got our shakes and took two high-top chairs at a narrow counter by the window, watching the street go by.

“This is ridiculously good,” she said, her eyes going wide as she sipped her shake. “I was picturing Josh’s face when I was punching back there. Is that normal?”

“Considering I punched his actual face, it’s pretty tame.”

“I’m not usually aggressive.” She glanced at my chest, then my shoulder, then away again, as if she couldn’t meet my eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Okay,” I said, watching her mouth as she sipped from her straw again. Force of habit. For a nice girl, she had a sexy mouth.

“You don’t seem very torn up about it. The whole cheating thing.” She paused. “Gina.”

“We weren’t dating very long,” I said. “Being torn up isn’t my thing. And it’s different for guys. It’s all about pride.”

“Pride?”

“Sure,” I said. “You really want to know?”

“I think so. Yes.”

“We like to know our cock is the only cock. You know, King Cock. No other cock in the universe can compare.”

She stared at me open-mouthed, her cheeks going pink. “King Cock?” she said.

I narrowed my gaze at her as my temperature went up, starting in my balls. “Say that again.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Seriously, Evie. Say that again.”

She swallowed. “Are you flirting with me?”

Now I was watching her throat. “I don’t flirt. Ever. There’s no point.”

She put down her drink, flustered, and licked her lip. I couldn’t stop staring. Finally she looked me in the eye. “You really are a bad boy, aren’t you? Like, the real thing.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I said, my voice thick. “Does it mean I get in your pants?”

Her pupils were dark as she looked at me. “I think you’re actually coming on to me,” she said. “Your version of it, anyway.”

Was I? I didn’t know. All I knew was that if we fucked, it would be hot and hard and we’d both get off in minutes. “You want me to?” I asked her.

“I thought you didn’t want in my pants,” she replied. She lifted her chin a little. “I’m not your kind of woman, remember?”

Right. She was a good girl. I needed to behave. “And I’m not your kind of guy.”

“Not even remotely,” she said.

I’d heard what she said back at the gym about wanting to get married, wanting a schedule. No, I was definitely not her kind of guy. “You take my advice yet?” I asked her.

“I thought I just did,” she replied, confused. “Coming to the boxing gym for my anger management problem.”

“No, the other advice. To find someone to fuck.”

The first time I’d suggested it, she’d been outraged. Now she looked out the window pensively and bit her lip. And something inside me woke up and roared to life. She can’t possibly have done it already. It’s only been a few days. No fucking way. She would have—

“No,” she said.

The beast calmed down.

Evie looked at me. “Have you?”

I shrugged, as if this whole conversation didn’t affect me. Jesus, I was losing my mind. “No.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Really? I mean—I’m surprised.”

I’d said I was considering it in the diner, but the fact was it hadn’t even crossed my mind. I’d just been trying to shock her. “Why are you surprised?”

Now, finally, she looked slightly embarrassed. “Because I heard rumors about you.”

“Yeah? They’re probably wrong.”

She worried her lip again. She was polite, and she didn’t like to gossip. “I heard you come from family money,” she admitted finally.

“Okay,” I said grudgingly. “True.”

“And you don’t have a job and you party all the time.”

“Also true.”

“And you get a lot of women.”

“Define ‘a lot.’”

She shook her head. “Okay, I admit I didn’t actually hear that last one. It was an educated guess.”

“Where are you hearing this shit?” I asked. There was no way she was talking to Gina. The two of them didn’t inhabit the same planet. I didn’t blame her because right now I didn’t want to inhabit Gina’s planet, either.

She took another sip of her milkshake. “I heard it from Josh,” she said.

The beast woke up again and growled. Fucking Bank Boy. She was talking to him? She was mad at him, but she hadn’t answered the question when I’d asked if she was in love with him. Maybe she wasn’t over him. Maybe she was hoping she’d get him back.

Why the fuck did I care?

“He knows a hell of a lot about me,” I said, “but he doesn’t know a fucking thing.”

I must have sounded dangerous, because she put down her drink and stared at me. “He hates you,” she said.

That didn’t surprise me. Most people hated me, including my own parents. “Yeah? Why?”

“Because you punched him. You embarrassed him. You made him feel this big.” She held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “He called me up. He told me to stay away from you. He thinks you’re going to take advantage of me. He said you’d come on to me and take advantage of my hurt feelings—like I can’t control myself. It was idiotic. I’ve never seen him so mad.”

“Yeah?” I said again. She’d lost that hollowed-out expression she’d had in the diner, when she’d said she wasn’t skinny or good-looking enough to deserve him. When she talked about how mad Bank Boy was, her brown eyes were lit up with pleasure.

So there was one favor I could do for her. Everyone has a special talent. Mine was pissing people off.

“Let’s make him mad, then,” I said to her. “I mean, really mad.”

“Nooo,” she said, drawing the word out as she looked at me warily. “We already said we aren’t doing that.”

That made me smile. “Evie,” I said, “you don’t get it. We don’t have to fuck. Bank Boy already thinks we’re doing it, or almost. We just have to make it look like he’s right.”

“And how do we do that?” she asked, her voice a little strangled.

I thought it over. I already had a few invites on my phone. “What are you doing tonight?”

She shrugged, the motion tight. She seemed to be holding her breath.

“Gina and I have a lot of the same friends,” I told her. “One of them is throwing a party tonight. We go, we act like we’re fucking, and the gossip mill will do the rest. Gina will hear about it in minutes. That means Bank Boy will hear about it. Our work is done.”

She thought about it. She wanted to do it, but she was wavering. I could practically see the argument in her head. “I have to go to work tomorrow,” she said. “I can’t stay out late.”

It was Thursday. I always forgot, because I didn’t have a job. “No problem,” I said. “We stay just long enough to be seen.”

She was still wavering. “You can’t kiss me or grab me or anything,” she said. “You know, to make it look convincing.” She cleared her throat. “No making out.”

I put my hand to my heart. “No making out. I swear.”

“Then how will it look like—”

“Trust me,” I said. “We show up together, I tell them we’re dating, and it’s done.” I couldn’t resist. “Unless, you know, you want to make out.”

“I do not,” she snapped. Then she ran a hand through her ponytail. “I can’t believe I’m considering this. A bunch of people will think we’re dating. It’s, like, a lie.”

“So? I’ll just wait a few days, then tell them you dumped me.” I leaned toward her a little. “When was the last time you went to a party, anyway? I told you, you’re missing out. You should try having some fun.”

For a second, something flickered in her expression. Temptation. And, I thought, familiarity. Good girl Evie had been to a party before. Maybe not recently, but she had. Maybe a lot of parties. And she’d liked it. Good girl Evie had maybe done a few bad things in her time.

Then she closed her expression off and put on her pinched, nice-girl scowl. “Fine, jerkoff,” she said. “I’ll do it. But just for revenge. And I’m bringing mace.”

“You really know how to show a guy a good time,” I said. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”