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“A romp?”

“Yeah, you know, a one-night stand. Some sexy times between the sheets. I bet Trevor could pound you right out of your funk.”

I bet he could too. Too bad he doesn’t want that from me. “I doubt it.”

“You forget that I’m sleeping with one of the Allen boys. If Trevor is anything like Rhett, he’s packing some serious heat,” she says, waggling her eyebrows.

It’s official. I hate her. And not because she’s getting laid daily and I haven’t been touched in well over a year, but because now she’s got me thinking about how big Trevor’s dick is and how great it would be to feel his thick, muscular body pressing me into the mattress. It’s something I fantasized about many times before the fire.

“I’m not going to sleep with Trevor.”

“Fine, then sleep with someone else. You need to brush those cobwebs off and get back on the horse. It’s a great way to relieve stress, and you’ve got that in spades.”

“I do not have cobwebs.”

“Really? When was the last time you were with a man? And I mean a real man, not B.O.B.”

It takes a second to calculate back that far, and when I realize it’s almost been two years, I decide to go on the defensive. “Are we seriously going to talk about this? I already feel like shit about myself and now you want to remind me that I’m practically a born-again virgin?”

Mo’s smile falls. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like shit about yourself. I was just trying to lighten the mood and have fun.”

Damn it. Now I’ve made her feel bad, and that wasn’t my intention. “I’m sorry, Mo. You didn’t make me feel like shit. I’m just not myself, and I’m not in the right frame of mind to have a conversation with anyone, let alone have sex with anyone. This is a bad idea.”

I grab my comforter from the floor, crawl back into bed, and pull it over my head.

Mo immediately tears it off.

“Sorry, sister, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. We’re going out for dinner whether you like it or not, and we’re going to have fun. I promise not to talk about Trevor and his giant penis or getting laid by a man.”

“No.”

“Claire…” She juts her bottom lip out and gives me puppy dog eyes. “Please,” she says, grabbing my hands. “I miss you. I know you went through a lot and you’re having a hard time working your way through it—although I don’t understand why—but holing yourself up in your house isn’t the answer. Just come with me, get some fresh air, say hi to a few people you haven’t seen in a while, and maybe it’ll help you clear your mind. Plus, there’s only so much guy talk a girl can take, and I’ve hit my limit. I need my Claire back.”

How am I supposed to say no to that? “I’ve missed you too.”

“Does that mean you’ll come?”

I sigh, sitting back up. “I guess. But you have to promise that if I want to go home, you won’t fight me on it.”

“I promise.”

“I’m not kidding, Mo.”

“I know.” She squeals and pulls me to my feet. “Go get in the shower. I’ll pick you out some clothes. Come on, I’m starving.” She guides me to the bathroom, turns the knob to the shower, smiles, and then walks out.

I stand at the sink, looking at my reflection in the mirror. Lifting my lips, I try to force a smile, but it falls flat. I already know leaving the house tonight is a bad idea, but I’ve let so many people down, and I refuse to add Mo to that list.

16

Claire

It takes an hour to get me ready. I could’ve been done in twenty minutes, but Mo insisted on fixing my hair. I drew the line at makeup and heels, refusing to get dolled up just to go to Dirty Dicks. I’m in more of a ripped jean, concert T-shirt, and Chuck sort of mood, which isn’t like me at all, and I’m not the only one to notice.

“Why is everyone staring at me?”

Mo and I take a table at the back of Dirty Dicks.

“Because they’ve never seen you in jeans,” she says. “They also haven’t seen you in a few weeks, and they’ve been worried about you.”

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