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I rolled my eyes and then ran my hand down his chest, settling it over his heart that was still beating wildly.

“The only ideas that I have right now are the ones that sound like doing that all over again just to see if it was a fluke,” I told him honestly.

He snorted and pulled me off of the bed with him.

“Let’s go shower,” he said.

I shivered at his show of strength. He’d just picked me up and moved me without even disengaging from me. He carried me around as if I was a doll and not a woman that weighed more than he was letting on.

Hours later, after the storm both outside and inside of us had waned, I lay with my head on Louis’ chest and his arm around my shoulders.

My body was practically on top of his as he slowly trailed his fingers up and down the length of my back—lightly, with just the right amount of pressure. God, I’d missed this, too. The way he scratched my back.

“I want to try again.”

Hearing his rumbled words, I yawned and said, “I can’t do it again. My legs are jelly. My vagina needs time to…”

“Not talking about sex,” he said. “Though, when your vagina is feeling better, I’ll be taking advantage of it just the same. I’m talking about us. I want to try again.”

I felt my heart speed up and lodge itself in my throat.

“I…” I didn’t finish my sentence because he interrupted me.

“I want to prove to you that we could work,” he said. “I know we could work. I’ve known it since we were kids.”

I didn’t say anything to that, causing him to continue.

“I won’t give up on you,” he said. “I’ll stick it out this time. I’m man enough now.”

I blew out a shaky breath in order to stop myself from crying.

I wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with being ‘man enough.’

But I found myself wanting to say yes.

So… I did.

“Okay.”

He stiffened. “Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He rolled over until his face was directly in front of mine, then without another word, he dropped his mouth down onto mine with a kiss that stole my breath. “You won’t regret it.”

I had a feeling that I would.

But the thing was, I also had a feeling I would regret it if I didn’t.

One way Louis came back into my life. The other, he stayed away.

There really was only one option for me.

Saying yes to anything that Louis wanted, and hoping that when he came to his senses, he didn’t break my heart in the process.

And I had a feeling that Louis wouldn’t even know that he was doing it when he did.Chapter 7

Uncircumcised? Hey, at least you have one hoodie that she can’t steal.

-Calloway’s secret thoughts

Calloway

“So wait… you two did it?” Ares asked in surprise. “In the car?”

“Well, not exactly,” I said. “There was a hotel. We did it there.”

She shook her head. “You did it at a hotel. Your car broke down, you couldn’t fix it because it was storming, nobody was answering to come get you, so you decided that having sex—that Louis taking your virginity—was the best course of action in that situation.”

The way she made it sound was bad, I admitted.

“I didn’t actually say, ‘hey Louis, we should fuck.’ It just happened. He grabbed hold of my jeans, and then all of the buttons came undone when I went to step away, and then he got all growlly, and his eyes were all excited and shit, and I just… broke. I’m weak!”

Ares started to laugh. “The SWAT boys have something about them, that’s for sure.”

She wasn’t lying.

There was something about the men of SWAT—their overprotective instincts, their extreme hotness, paired with their overall sense of danger—that just made them so appealing to everyone.

Hell, right now, Louis was sitting at the bar. That’s all he was doing—sitting.

He had his arms leaning on top of the bar, crossed over each other, his hands grabbing opposite elbows. He had his large feet propped up on the rim of the bar stool, and he was turned slightly in his chair, talking to Hayes about something that was making Hayes laugh.

His hair was shining slightly red thanks to the neon bar sign that said ‘open’ right above his head.

Needless to say, he wasn’t really doing anything overtly sexy, but he didn’t have to. He was sexy just sitting there doing nothing.

Which was the thing—I wasn’t that type of person. I wasn’t sexy in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I had to work at it, and even then, I wasn’t a classic beauty like Ares. Or a glowing beauty like Ashe, Ford’s wife, that was walking toward us.

I had to work at it.

“So he talked you into being his girlfriend?” Ares said. “This wasn’t a one-time thing?”

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