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My head was thrown back so far that the cords on the side of my neck strained in response, and then I heard him grunt.

“…smells like sex.” I heard joked.

I ignored them, opening my eyes to watch as Tide’s face screwed up.

The muscles in his neck tensed, and then the tendons seized.

The hands on my legs tightened, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I’d have bruises there tomorrow.

Ones that would match the handprint on my ass.

But who the fuck cared?

When his eyes finally opened, and I saw them in all their lazy brilliance, I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t be getting out of whatever fucked-up relationship that Tide and I had unscathed.

I had a feeling that my heart was already involved. I was just too stubborn to acknowledge it.

“You’re crazy,” I whispered.

The tiny little lines at the sides of his eyes crinkled as his eyes smiled even though his mouth didn’t.

He pulled away, and I felt the leftovers from his orgasm leave me in a rush that I had to lurch to catch it with both hands.

Seconds later, I found myself unceremoniously on my feet, my hands between my legs, and my hips screaming at my earlier position.

“Oww,” I hissed. “Ow, ow, ow.”

I hadn’t realized just how uncomfortable I’d been until he’d let me go.

Damn, what a good orgasm could do—like cover up how fucking bad your hips hurt.

Damn, I wasn’t twenty anymore, that was for sure.

He looked at me curiously.

“I’m not getting any younger,” I grumbled almost to myself.

His eyes twinkled. “Maybe you should take up yoga,” he suggested.

I snorted. “Maybe you should take up having sex without bending people into the position of a pretzel.”

His head tilted slightly as he said, “And you didn’t enjoy it?”

I shrugged.

What did that have to do with anything?

I immediately remembered that about two minutes ago, we hadn’t been by ourselves in the bathroom.

But then I listened hard and heard no one left. Meaning sometime between when I’d come and Tide had, they’d left without my knowledge.

Whatever.

They didn’t just hear me complaining about me being folded like origami.

“Jesus,” I grumbled as I walked to the toilet and tried to get rid of the glob of ejaculate that was now covering my hand. “We’re so not responsible adults.”

“We’re both very comfortable in our careers, we both have houses, we live next door to each other. And if you got pregnant with my kid, we’d be marrying. So… I think we could make it work,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll bet you think I’ll take your last name, too.”

His eyes lit with an inner fire that had me smirking.

“And you’re one of those girls that wants to keep her maiden name?” He tilted his head curiously to study me as I wiped myself clean with the toilet paper. “Did you know that you’d be keeping your father’s name? It’s not even a female’s name. Every last name is a man’s last name.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, I just don’t want to take the name of a man that’s literally spent the better half of his life completely making mine miserable any time he could.”

“Like you didn’t give it just as good back,” he grumbled as he picked up my discarded jeans. “Hurry up, or you’re going to miss kickoff.”

I cursed.

Because he was right.

We were getting quite close to game time.

“Jerk,” I growled as I made a mad dash for the stall door and then the sink.

Two minutes later, we were both walking out as cleaned up as we could get.

Which, of course, was when I came to a sudden halt.

Why?

Because there was a sea of green, yellow and brown leather vests in front of the bathroom.

Ones that’d sparked Alison’s comments earlier about me needing one.

Ones that were covering bodies that held pairs of eyes that were staring at us.

There was a small hesitation in conversation, and then one of the ladies said, “I told you it smelled like sex in that bathroom.”

I felt my face heat.

Tide’s hand caught mine as he said, “Shit happens. Sometimes I gotta correct an attitude wherever it needs correcting.”

Before I could get too offended, the women laughed, and the men nodded in agreement.

I rolled my eyes and strolled right past them.

I was at the game for all of ten minutes before I was ejected with a red card for calling the ref a dumbass who couldn’t see.

I watched with binoculars from Tide’s bike.

Tide didn’t join me.

And I wondered if that bothered me, or if I found it amusing.

I chose not to investigate either feeling.

Because I wasn’t sure that I wanted to admit to either emotion.

CHAPTER 19

What—I cannot stress enough—the fuck?

-text from Tide to Coreline

TIDE

“I’m sorry, brother.” I heard said a few seconds into me answering the call. “He’s gone.”

I hung up with nary another word and stared blankly at the ceiling as I tried to investigate the emotions that were rolling through my chest.

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