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“Sex…” Riley grimaced, weaving through the non-stop onslaught of people.

“Not upfront—no. She just said I could stay at her place for the night.”

She shook her head. “She wanted to fuck you. You wanted to fuck her.”

His face fell as he tried to catch her eye. “I needed a place to kip! And Leia never mentioned hockey or you. She told me she was a student, working on her master’s at some fashion school.”

“The Fashion Institute of Technology.” A bus wheezed by with a Lairds and Liars season three advertisement stretched along its side, but everything beyond Ben was just a noisy blur.

“I swear, I didn’t know she was married.”

Yeah, right. Riley stared ahead, the dazzling billboards advertising everything the heart desires—cars, clothing, jewelry—but nothing she craved most: honesty, loyalty…love. “So that huge rock on her left hand didn’t mean anything, huh?”

“No ring—her fingers were bare. I noticed at the bar.”

“So, you were interested. Don’t pretend you weren’t.”

“Riley, what hot-blooded single guy chatting to an attractive woman doesn’t check for a ring? I checked your hand the minute I met you. And don’t deny it—women do it, too.”

Damn. Yeah, he’s got me there. “Well, you would’ve seen wedding photos in her apartment. She has tons.”

“I saw paint cans, a ladder, furniture covered with drop sheets.” He scratched his head. “And to be honest, after five minutes, I wasn’t exactly hunting around for evidence she was married…”

“Don’t paint me a picture.” Riley stopped abruptly, the dancing lights above the door to the West 42nd subway entrance inviting her in. Your minute’s up.

“It was a mistake.” He swallowed heavily. “I left in the morning. We didn’t exchange numbers.”

“No, just bodily fluids.” She crossed her arms again and swayed back and forth, as agitated as she was chilly.

Ben dipped his head. “Two weeks later, she’s at the club, you’re at the club—I was fucking gobsmacked. Riley, I really liked you!”

And I liked you! You were lovely and respectful, dancing with me, and then… “You were a dick at the bar.”

“I figured Leia told you about us sleeping together…but when it never came up, it was like…I dunno, a second chance.”

“What? A second chance to fuck me? Yeah, ’cause that’s what you do.” Her palm tightened around her MetroCard. “You’re just a fuckboy. You’re all attentive and sweet until you get what you want.”

“I know you think I’m a dog, but I’ve only slept with two women here, that’s it, both one-night stands, and neither meant anything.” He moved closer. “Riley, please, don’t be cross—”

“I can’t believe you slept with her. Of all people…”

“Yeah, she’s not my type. You’d never catch Leia eating a chicken dinosaur.”

Wha—? Oh. Riley’s angry glare softened into a defiant pout.

“You said she wasn’t a close friend, Riley, so I thought, great, lucky escape—it’ll never come up. I was stupid thinking you would never hear about it. I should’ve mentioned it…”

“Yeah, you should’ve. I guess I was a real disappointment to you, offering a place to stay that night, without benefits…”

“Please don’t think I stayed at yours expecting sex, Riley. You’re…different…”

Here we go again. He thinks I’m some fragile born-again virgin. “I’m not a prude!” Her chest rose and fell as she spit out her response, earning a “You tell ’im, girl!” from a passing clique of women out on the town.

Ben edged closer, ducking his head to keep their conversation private. “I know you’re not.”

Riley lowered her volume. “What you or any of my friends do behind closed doors is none of my business.”

“So then why does any of this matter?”