I WAKE UP WITH MY FACE smashed into a pillow. My mouth feels like cotton, and I’m pretty sure that’s because I drooled all over myself last night.

With a groan, I roll over and fall right off the bed, smacking my tail so hard on the wood floors that I let out a muted scream.

“That was graceful,” I mutter, pushing myself up and brushing my clothes off.

Glancing down, I take in the silver cheerleading outfit I still have on from last night. My boobs are all but hanging out of the top, and the bottom is flipped up so far that it looks more like a belt than a shirt. Tugging it down, I make myself more presentable.

Aiden bursts through the door. “You okay?”

I whirl around so fast that the room spins. “Why are you in my room?” I grab my head with both hands, then peer up at him. “Wait. Whose room is this?”

“You’re in one of my guest rooms.” He points at my top, his eyes widening and his mouth parting. “You might want to fix that.”

I dip my chin. Sure enough, my boobs have popped out. I blush from the roots of my hair to my toes. “Oh, God,” I croak, slapping my palms against my chest and refusing to meet his eyes. “That wasn’t... I—uh...”

Aiden pivots, rummaging through a nearby dresser. He tosses a shirt at me. “Put this on.”

“Thanks.” I don’t waste any time covering my wardrobe malfunction, but with this outfit, I’m pretty sure it was made to be intentional. “I’m guessing that since this isn’t your room and I’m still wearing my clothes that nothing happened last night.”

Except that kiss.

That wonderful, shockingly amazing kiss.

There’s no way I can forget that.

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his normal cocky self majorly subdued as he faces me again. His light blue eyes are wary as he asks, “What do you remember?”

“Shaking my pom-poms at you?” I give him a sheepish grin, shoving the painful moments of our conversation last night into the mental box where I store everything now. “Whose shirt is this?”

“My ma’s. She keeps clothes here for when she comes to stay. Easier that way.” He tips up his chin. “I know it’s not pink and shit, or covered in some girly pattern, but it’s—”

“Really cool.” Gently, I pull the hem out, so I can get somewhat of a better view of the print on it. “Is this a legit Guns N’ Roses concert shirt?”

“Pretty sure I was conceived in that shirt.”

I drop the fabric like it’s tainted with flesh-eating bacteria. “That’s just lovely.”

“I’m kidding.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Anyway, nothing happened. You passed out on the sofa, and I carried you to bed.”

“That was nice of you,” I say softly, unsure what to make of a kind Aiden. I mean, I don’t expect him to make me sleep outside. Okay, so I hope he wouldn’t make me sleep outside.

“It was nothing.” He makes to leave, but I grab his arm. An arm that even in my half-hangover state I can recognize is muscular and cut, and all the things I like to ogle on social media.

“You could have left me on the sofa,” I point out.

The tips of his ears turn red. “No, I couldn’t.”

“Are you blushing?”

“I’m not a blusher.”

“You are to a blushah,” I mimic his sharp Boston accent.

His eyes narrow. “Cut that shit out.”

“I was only teasing you.”

“Yeah, well, stop it. Listen, I put you upstairs and locked you inside because you wouldn’t stop getting into my bed and putting the moves on me. Figured that was the only way I could get some shut-eye. Alone.”

My mouth drops. So much for thinking the best of him. “I’m not that desperate.”

“Last night you were.” He pulls out of my grasp. “Get your ass down to the table. I made breakfast, and I scheduled an Uber to come get you in an hour.”

I follow him downstairs, refusing to allow him to get the last word. “Why can’t you be nice to me?”

“I think putting you to bed and making breakfast is nice.”

“You also called an Uber because you can’t be bothered to drive me home.”

He rounds on me. “I didn’t ask you over here last night. You showed up, shaking your pom-poms and wanting more than what I can give right now.”

I make a face. “More than you can give? I’m not asking you to date me.” I couldn’t even if I wanted to because I’m still married.

“Yeah, why would you bother to do that?” he retorts.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Listen, you’re my best friend’s little sister. There are boundaries that can’t be crossed, so when you show up, half-dressed, and then kiss me like a fucking angel, I can’t... I can’t deal with it in a thoughtful way that won’t hurt your feelings.”

A little bit of humility seeps in, enough to make me realize I really did put him in a bad position. “When you put it that way...”

“An apology from you would be nice.”

He has a point, but still... I’m done letting men make me feel sorry.

Aiden’s not making you feel any way.

Could’ve fooled me.

You were the one to show up on his doorstep, not the other way around.

And I was the one, according to him, who was trying to get into his bed.

With a long-suffering sigh, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” He touches my cheek, and an unexpected wave of delicious heat passes through me. “But thanks for saying it, anyway.” Then he smacks me on my tail, like he would one of his teammates. “Go eat, kid.”

“You really know how to kill a moment.”

He moves to the hallway, tossing over his shoulder, “We don’t have those, LT.”

The memory of his hands in my hair, taking it out of the silly hairstyle Paige put it in, while he talked about his past, bubbles up.

“Last night we did,” I whisper.

Before leaving the guest room, I make use of the bathroom, not bothering to look at myself head-on in the mirror. I’m one-hundred percent sure that I’d scream in horror if I did. Instead, I splash cold water on my face, rinse out my mouth, and run my hands through my hair.

I’d snoop through the drawers, but Aiden has never struck me as someone who appreciates anyone violating his privacy, even if it’s in search of toothpaste and a comb.

Once I’m mostly sure I look more presentable, despite the fact that half my backside is hanging out of the shortest skirt I’ve ever worn in my life, I go downstairs to the breakfast nook.

Aiden’s house is nice with lots of windows and an open plan—homey, too. A little too lacking in color, but he is a bachelor, after all. I eye the enormous all-white sofa in the living room. There are several pillows, in the exact same shade, strategically placed on it. It’s like his decorator was afraid of color, but a little color in one’s life never hurts.

“So much potential,” I say with a sigh.

Sunlight streaming in nearly blinds me, and I have to squint in order to find my way to the kitchen. Aiden sits at the head of a table big enough for eight people, like he’s king of the breakfast nook.

“Hope you like bacon and eggs.”

“You know I do.”

He eyes me, a glimmer of amusement in his blue gaze. “The eggs aren’t boiled.”

“It’s not Easter, and we’re not having an eating contest,” I remind him. “Besides, you’d lose.”

“Bad day for me. I’d already eaten when you challenged me.”

“Ha!” I sit in the chair directly to his right, feeling more at ease with him than I have in years. “You underestimated your opponent.”

“You fed the eggs to your dog.” He grimaces. “That damn thing slept in my room, and it farted all night long.”

Barely suppressing a laugh, I give him an innocent look. “I can’t believe you’re still blaming Betsy for your stomach issues... and you were the one sleeping in her room.”

“A dog shouldn’t have its own room, LT.” With a shake of his head, he mutters, “Rich people.”

I don’t bother to point out that his net worth is probably more than my parents will spend in two lifetimes. “Queen Betsy got whatever she wanted.” That aggravating cocker spaniel got whatever she wanted because my dad adored her almost as much as he did my momma.

“Do I detect a note of jealousy?”

Twisting my lips, I scoop up some eggs and almost all the bacon he’s left on the serving dish. “Nope.”

He grunts. “Eat the last two pieces, LT. This is second breakfast for me.”

“Impressive. Guess you already worked out this morning, too.”

“Yeah.” He leans back in the chair, shoving his hands behind his head, and I’m momentarily hypnotized by the flex of muscles. “Listen, I was short with you earlier and I want to apologize.”

“We don’t have to talk about it. In fact, I want to forget what happened.” I bite into a piece of bacon. “Obviously, it was a bad move on my part.”

His light eyes study me. “Obviously.”

“I’m not even divorced.”

He frowns. “That didn’t occur to me.”

“Please. You were judging me the entire time. You always do.” I finish off the bacon, and then drink down a glass of water that he thoughtfully poured for me. I’m not a coffee drinker, and I hate the taste of milk, except in milkshakes. “It’s our thing. I say something, you say something crass to prove a point, and then we go on with our lives.”

His lips flatten. “Is that really how you see me?”

“That’s really how you act. It’s like... it’s like you decided you weren’t going to be my friend anymore, and then became a major jerk so I’d be okay with it... I guess.” A twinge of hurt runs through me. “You hurt my feelings a lot, over the years.”

“Maybe I had a good reason.”

“There’s never a good reason to hurt someone.”

He laughs, but it almost bitter-sounding to me. “You don’t wanna hurt Joe for the stunt he pulled?”

Pain claws at my heart. I loved Joe. “That’s not fair and you know it.”

“What’s not fair is you acting like I’m supposed to go along with whatever you want at the time... and what you want right now is revenge sex.”

I’m really going to have to talk about this conversation with Paige, because according to her and Dallas, guys don’t care what kind of sex a woman offers. “You promised to help me.” The ultimate proof is in my binder. The same stupid binder where I planned a marriage that didn’t even last a week.

I’m such a failure.

His jaw works. “I also promised to do ya one better by marrying you. Ready for that ring, LT?”

I can’t help but stare at my bare finger. “I threw my wedding set into the ocean.”

“Damn, that’s pretty fucking ballsy.” Aiden laughs. “I bet he dove in after it, didn’t he?”

“At least he proved that was real.”

“C’mon, Layton. Don’t think about that.” His gaze softens. “I know you think I’m a hard ass who has no feelings, but I wouldn’t do you like he did.”

“I never said you didn’t have feelings.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to argue anymore. I want my old life back. I want my old job back.” I want the old me back, the one with her entire future planned out.

Aiden leans forward, placing his elbows on the table. “You know... I felt the exact same way when the Patriots traded me to the Renegades.”

I blink at him. “I thought you wanted to play for Raleigh?”

“Of course you did, and so did every fan out there. No way was I going to tell them different—that I was wicked pissed they were letting me go. The only person who had permission to make me a failure or a success was me.” His phone buzzes, and he takes a few seconds to read whatever pops up on his screen. “Damn it,” he mumbles.

“Everything okay?”

“It’s my ma.” He grimaces. “Mind if I take you home now? I got shit to take care of.”

Take me home? “Thought you had an Uber coming for me?”

He smirks, his gaze dropping to my lap, then returning to my face. “Not wearing that I don’t. Besides, your brother would kick my ass for sending you home half-dressed.”

“At least let me cook dinner for you tonight. As a thank you only.” I cross my fingers so he can’t see my lie. He said he’d have sex with me if I were sober. He also said he wouldn’t do me like Joe did.

Guys who aren’t interested don’t say things like that.

They also don’t kiss like he had either.

“I don’t know...” He wants to. I can see it in his face.

There are boundaries that can’t be crossed, so when you show up, half-dressed, and then kiss me like a fucking angel, I can’t... I can’t deal with it in a thoughtful way that won’t hurt your feelings.

I wonder... “That’s okay. Paige offered to set me up with... Sam, I think, for her couples’ dinner party tonight. He’s a cool guy, right?”

“I’ll be there at six.”

With a smile, I pick up my napkin and wipe off my slightly greasy hands. “Perfect.”