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“You can play, too. Ask anything you want.” Colson gazes at the dark highway before us, “So, tell me, Honeybee,” I nearly melt into the floorboards when he utters this new nickname, “who was the last man to make you come?”

I notice he doesn’t ask who was the last man I had sex with…

“What man?” I breathe, staring straight ahead.

He straightens up, “Woman?” he chirps with intrigue.

I’m instantly reminded that Colson is still a 21-year-old guy.

“No,” I say flatly.

“No one?” he turns to me, taken aback, “Ever?”

I give a quick shake of my head. It’s embarrassing. I could’ve lied, made up some fictional man or woman who was vaguely familiar with female anatomy. The university is huge, he would never know. But I’m a terrible liar, and it’s a lot of effort when I’m preoccupied with other things at the moment.

Even without looking at him, I feel Colson’s expression change. My cheeks flush as I try to avoid his gaze, which is impossible, considering he has his entire hand inside my pants and a couple fingers inside me at any given moment.

“What a travesty,” he turns back to the road and shakes his head with disapproval, “no wonder you’re so saucy.”

Smug much?

“Alright, what about you?” I counter, as if it’s some kind of challenge.

Colson doesn’t answer at first, just takes a deep breath and leans back against the headrest.

A sneaky grin spreads across my face and I can’t resist, “Dacia Ferguson?” I guess.

If I derailed his plans that night as much as he said I did, it seems like a logical assumption.

“No,” he replies.

I’m secretly relieved. Dacia’s preferences are none of my business, but I’d rather not imagine what Colson might’ve been doing to her ass while I was wallowing in my own anger and self-pity.

I flex my back as Colson changes pace and slides two fingers back inside me, “Then who?” It comes out as a broken moan as I dig my nails into the leather seat.

“Dana Masterson and Leah Durham,” he deadpans.

My eyes dart across the console. Colson remains focused on the road ahead, his expression unchanged. I stare at him for a few seconds, his confession competing with the distraction of his torturous game.

I crack a smile, “Both?”

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, “Who am I to turn down such an offer?”

I bite back a smile, but it claws its way over my lips anyway and I let out a chuckle. I wonder if they were two of the flight attendants in that douchebag picture of him from Halloween…but it doesn’t matter, I am so telling Barrett, Emma, and Katie. They’ll fucking eat this up.

“Are you laughing?” Colson asks.

“Yes,” I gasp between giggles.

“Why?”

“You do sleep with all the Deltas!” I laugh, rolling my head across the headrest.

Colson slides his fingers in deeper, making my breath catch, “I don’t sleep with all the Deltas,” he replies matter-of-factly, “I was presented with an opportunity and I took it.”

“Mm-hmm…” I roll my eyes, a smile still pulling at my cheeks.

“Do you disapprove?”