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My phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts. It was Sam.

Shit. Why do I feel so guilty?

Nothing had happened with Dax last night. But I supposed my thoughts toward him made me feel like I’d betrayed the guy I’d been dating, even if Sam wasn’t technically my boyfriend. We’d never agreed to exclusivity.

My voice was groggy when I picked up. “Hey.”

“What’s going on? I just swung by your house to see if you wanted to grab breakfast, and your dad said you weren’t home.”

Sam knew about my relationship to Rafe, even if poor Rafe didn’t. I’d had to tell Sam to explain why I’d been spending time here.

I ran my hand through my hair. “Yeah. I, uh, had a bit too much wine with dinner last night, so I decided to just sleep at Rafe’s.”

“Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

That was a fair question. Even though Sam had been working at the restaurant when I’d made the decision to stay here, I could’ve waited for him to finish his shift.

“I didn’t want to bother you, and I was asleep by the time you got off. My dad was working and wouldn’t have been able to pick me up until after midnight. So I just crashed here.”

“Wanna get a late breakfast? I’ll swing by there and get you now.”

I wasn’t really in a rush to leave. “Maybe we can do dinner instead? I haven’t showered yet, and I have some errands to run today.”

“Okay, that’s good, I guess. I have tonight off.” He sighed. “Where did you sleep?”

I paused, unsure what to make of that question. “Dax gave me his room because it has a separate bathroom.”

“He did, did he…”

My forehead wrinkled. “Why did you say it like that?”

“I don’t trust that guy.”

It’s me you shouldn’t trust. “I’ve known him for a while, Sam. There’s nothing not to trust. He’s just a guy doing the best he can. He hasn’t made a move, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Believe me, I’ve tried.

“He’d better not.”

While I couldn’t blame Sam for being a bit suspect, his attitude was also annoying.

“So…I’ll see you tonight, okay?” I said.

“Okay,” he said, still sounding somewhat pissed.

After we hung up, I nestled back into Dax’s sheets and buried myself in his scent under the covers. I couldn’t even feel guilty again right now because this was too good. I didn’t know if I’d ever have this opportunity again, so I decided to slip my hands down my panties and make myself feel even better than I already did.

For some reason, my mind gravitated to the text Dax had received last night. Except I pretended I was the one who’d sent it, telling him I “missed his dick.” That was so tacky, but that’s where my mind went.

I imagined him showing up at my bedroom after receiving the text. I ripped off his clothes before I knelt down and took him into my mouth. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. My hand froze.

“Hey, Wren. Everything okay in there?”

I cleared my throat and sat up. “It was, yeah.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“I wanted to see if you’d like to come down and have breakfast with us.”

“I would love that. Can you give me like ten minutes? I just want to finish…uh, take a quick shower.” And finish your virtual blowjob so I can orgasm.

“Yeah. Take your time. I’ll have it ready in twenty.”

I laughed to myself. If Dax only knew what he’d interrupted.

After I finished myself off and showered, I wrapped one of Dax’s luxurious towels around my chest and returned to the bedroom to get dressed. On the way, I nosily opened Dax’s bedside drawer. That was totally intrusive and wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. This might be my only opportunity to snoop. Inside were some lemon drops, what I assumed were his old-man reading glasses in a hard case, and a box of condoms. That lucky bitch, Adriana. I also noticed the black journal with the fleur-de-lis on the front. I might have been nosy, but I was not an asshole. As much as I would’ve given anything to learn this mysterious man’s deepest, darkest thoughts, I wasn’t going to become privy to that information by stealing it.

• • •

Later that afternoon, back at my house, Dad had questions for me.

“So…why did you spend the night at Rafe’s again?” he asked as he stirred his afternoon coffee. Dad always had fresh coffee on hand and drank it on and off all day.

“I told you, I had a bit too much to drink, and I didn’t want to drive. You were working, so I couldn’t call you.”

“I take it you weren’t drinking alone.”

“Dax and I shared some wine, yeah.”

“I figured as much.” He smirked.

Feeling my face heat, I said, “We get along very well. We just talked. I told him a bit about my teenage years and all the stuff that happened back then, the lessons I’ve learned. It was therapeutic. I really like talking to him. I always have. But nothing is going on between us, if that’s why you’re smirking.”

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