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“Because I’m thirty-two years old and I don’t waste my time on Facebook and Twitter.”

I sighed. “And you really haven’t spoken to her in six years?”

“Excuse me?” He looked over at me as we approached a red light. “I thought we just sorted this out in the bathroom.”

“We did, but—” I cleared my throat. “You filed for a divorce, and it couldn’t go through?”

“It takes two people to complete a divorce, Aubrey. Surely you know that.”

“Yes, but...” I ignored the fact that he was clenching his jaw. “Wouldn’t it be easier for someone like you to make it happen? Six years is a pretty long time to stay married to someone you claim you don’t love anymore, so—”

“You’d be surprised at how well some people can spin a f**king lie to get what they want,” he said, his voice cold. “My past isn’t up for discussion.”

“Ever?”

“Ever. It has nothing to do with you.”

I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms. “Are you ever going to tell me the reason why you left New York and moved to Durham?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have to.” He steered the car into my apartment complex. “Because like I told you an hour ago, that part of my life never happened.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone. I just—”

“Stop it.” He faced me as he stopped the car, and I could see a world of hurt in his eyes. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen him.

“I lost something very special in New York six years ago.” There was regret in his voice. “Something I’ll never f**king get back, something I’ve spent the last six years trying to forget, and if it’s okay with you I’d like to make it to year seven.”

>“I think you should get back to your date...” My voice was a whisper. “You’ve said all you had to say so...What more could you possibly want from me?”

“In this moment?” He trailed his finger against my collarbone.

“In general...” I turned my cheek before he could kiss me. “I’m never sleeping with you again, I’ll be formally resigning by the end of the week, and I think we need to end our so-called friendship for good.”

“You mean that?” he whispered.

“Yes, I mean that.” I ignored the feel of his hand squeezing my ass. “I want to be friends with someone who’s interested in more than my pu**y.”

“I’m interested in your mouth, too.”

I had no response for that, and he must’ve sensed it because he tightened his grip on my waist.

“I know how hard it is for you to tell the truth,” he said softly, “so I need you to be completely honest when I ask you these next few questions. Can you do that?”

I nodded, breathlessly, and he leaned closer to my lips. “You don’t enjoy f**king me?”

“That’s not the issue.”

“That’s not the answer. Tell me.”

I ignored the loud beating in my chest. “I do enjoy it...”

“Are you really resigning?” He kissed me.

“No...I just—” I sucked in a breath as his hand cupped my right breast, as he squeezed it. Hard.

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