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“Because she just agreed to go on a fucking date with that asshole.”

I set my fork down. “What?”

“I fucked up, Zeke.” His amber eyes met mine, and I saw pain in them.

“What happened?”

Licking his lips, he said, “Last night, we…” He inhaled through his nose and sighed. “We fucked.”

I said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“Sleeping in her bed wasn’t a good idea. We’d had too much to drink. I woke up touching her and couldn’t stop.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ve never felt anything as incredible as the heat of her body. Why the fuck didn’t she sleep with her friend?”

I fidgeted as he groaned, as if he were reliving the moment.

They’d done it beside me. I was lucky I slept through it. I wouldn’t know what to do if I woke up, and I didn’t want to risk making them angry by watching.

I didn’t answer his question. He knew I wanted to sleep in Rae’s bed. That’s why he agreed to it when I talked to him upstairs. He was hesitant, but he indulged me as always.

I hated that he sounded like he regretted letting me have what I wanted.

“It didn’t go well,” he said, standing upright.

“What? Why?”

He looked away, jaw tightening. “She pushed me like she always does. You know what I mean?”

“Sort of?”

“Stubborn. Bratty. Fucking infuriating as shit.”

I scoffed. “You like it.”

“Yeah, but I had my fingers inside her when she pulled that shit.”

I froze, fork and knife suspended over my plate. “What’d you do?”

Something bad must’ve happened between them to spark that level of agitation.

“I was rough with her,” he said, closing his eyes, throat working.

“You hurt her?” I rose, ready to rush upstairs and check on her.

“No!” His eyes snapped open. “I don’t think so. She seemed into it. Like she liked the fight as much as I did. Thing is, I didn’t know I’d like the fight. No one’s ever done that before.” He shook his head. “But that’s not the worst part.”

I sat and took a big bite of syrupy pancakes. If it got worse, I needed a distraction.

“When she came, I felt everything.”

I swallowed. “Like she didn’t fake it or anything?”

“No one fakes it with me,” he snapped, then carded both hands through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I’m fine.”

“Still shouldn’t have snapped.”

I cut into my pancakes again to show him I wasn’t dwelling on it.