Page 82 of Bad Cruz


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All I knew was that if it was a relationship she wanted, my parents were going to kill themselves, and then Wyatt was going to off me and run with the inheritance money.

At twenty-six, I’d been fresh out of med school, new to adulthood and real life. My parents had been so happy to have me back in town, they’d have accepted a farm animal for a potential daughter-in-law, anything to make me stick around.

Now, they had all kinds of ideas.

I’d held back on marriage for far too long. They weren’t going to be happy with anyone less than a Windsor.

And it wasn’t just them.

I had my own reputation to think of.

Being with Tennessee was going to ruin everything I’d built since I’d come back. My reputation, social standing, thriving business, and steady deliveries of homemade pies by grateful clients.

…so why can’t I give a damn about any of those things?

I turned off the faucet, wrapped a towel around my waist ,and stepped out of the bathroom. I found Tennessee flung on our bed, wearing one of the shirts I’d bought for her earlier today, makeup-free and edible to a fault.

She played with a tendril of her blonde hair, looking thoughtful as she peered up at me.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

“Hardly.”

“I thought you weren’t into puns.”

“I have my moments.” I advanced toward our shared closet, tugging out a pair of briefs. I noticed her pillow fort was not in place yet. “Fair warning—I sleep in my underwear, so if that’s a problem…”

“It’s not a problem,” she replied quickly, turning scarlet everywhere visible. “Actually…”

I turned around almost violently, searching her face.

“Yes?”

Eager much, asshole?

“I was wondering…” She drew a circle with her finger on her thigh. “If you could teach me how to make out with a guy. Sorry I freaked out on you earlier. I’m pretty much out of my depth when it comes to the opposite sex. I know we don’t have much time here, but I think you’re right. It’d be nice to get the best out of the situation, seeing as we both know we don’t have any future together and this thing stops as soon as we go back home.”

I yanked the briefs up my legs under my towel. It was an ambitious move, but I’d seen women do something similar with their bras and shirts.

“No one at home can find out,” I clipped, feeling like an asshole, and no doubt sounding like one, too.

In my defense, I’d been so thoroughly rejected by her since age seventeen, I didn’t want to lose one iota of my charmed quality of life for the pleasure of having her as a fling.

“I know.” Tennessee sat up straighter in bed. “Trust me, my parents and sister would kill me a hundred times over if they find out I touched a hair on your golden head. Plus, I’m super damaged. There’s no way I could handle a relationship. I have a lot to lose, too.”

“And then there’s Rob,” I added, dropping the towel and advancing toward the bed, my junk safely covered by the briefs.

There was no way I was letting Gussman think I’d been pining for his ex-girlfriend for decades. That a small, awful part of me had been glad that he’d screwed off the way he had, because that meant she’d never take him back.

And now he was back and what the fuck did that mean for all of this?

“Yeah. Some friend you are.” Tennessee let out a throaty, sexy laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll never tell your buddy you’ve sampled my goods.”

She thought I was doing it out of loyalty to him. Well, the real reason—my fragile ego—wasn’t going to win me any personality points, so I decided to keep it to myself.

“Right,” I said, sliding under the covers.

A fresh rush of desire ran through my veins as my body found hers under the blanket. She looked so young without all the makeup and hairspray, I could almost imagine us as teenagers.

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