I tapped my glass to hers. “But how? Tell me what to do. How did you seduce Oliver?”

“Which time?”

I laughed. “Come on. Help me.”

“Okay, okay. Let me think. Our first kiss was kind of mutual. But our first time, I definitely took the lead—at least at first.”

“What did you do?”

“I showed up at his dorm room and told him to take my virginity.”

I nearly choked on my wine. “What?”

“Yeah, it was amazing.” Chloe looked happy at the memory. “At first he was mad and said he wouldn’t do it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, but he changed his mind pretty fast.”

“I bet.” I took a bit of my dinner and tried to think how I could apply her advice to be more proactive. “I’m not sure how I would go about it. My virginity is gone, alas. And I’m not used to being the aggressor.”

“You don’t need your virginity, silly. And you don’t even have to be that aggressive. Just show up and make it clear you’ve changed your mind. That despite the risk, you do want him. You can’t resist him. You have to have him or you’ll go crazy.” She nodded knowingly. “He’ll lose his mind thinking he’s all that.”

“Really?” I bit my lip.

“Trust me. All you have to be is yourself, but be brave. Be confident. Be shameless in wanting him. He will eat it up.”

I set my fork down and picked up my ice water. Suddenly I felt hot and a little sweaty. “When should I do it?”

“If it were me, I’d surprise him at home tonight.”

Setting the glass down with a thump, I stared at her. “Tonight?”

“Yeah, why not? You’ve made up your mind haven’t you? And it’s not like you’ve got endless time here. The clock is ticking.” Her eyes danced. “Let the shenanigans begin.”

An hour later, around nine o’clock, Chloe pulled up in front of Noah’s house. I still wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to say. I was hoping the right things would come to me spontaneously.

“If it goes wrong, will you come back and get me?” I asked her. My insides were already tied in knots. And I should have used the bathroom at the restaurant before we left—it wasn’t an emergency, but I’d drunk that glass of wine fast, and then downed my ice water.

“It’s not going to go wrong. Don’t even put that out there. Think about what you want, and go get it.” Chloe patted my leg. “Call me tomorrow.”

“Okay. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it, champ.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I opened the door and got out.

There was a light on in an upstairs room, which I assumed was Noah’s. At least he wasn’t asleep yet. As I walked up the driveway, I rehearsed a few opening lines.

I changed my mind.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

Fuck our friendship.

Then fuck me.

Nothing seemed quite right, and I reached the back door without a firm plan. I was surprised to find it slightly ajar, knowing how vigilant Noah was about safety. I knocked lightly and expected Renzo to come bounding over. He didn’t, but I could hear him barking somewhere in the house. Was he shut inside a room?

On high alert, visions of serial killers in my head, I pushed open the door. “Noah?”

He didn’t answer, but I heard water running and then pipes squeak, as if the shower was being turned off. I relaxed—he was fine. He was just upstairs taking a shower. And Renzo was in the spare bedroom, where Noah always put him when he showered, or else the dog would follow him into the bathroom. Hadn’t he just told me that last night?

Laughing at my overactive imagination—I really needed to lay off the true crime—I shut the back door behind me and hurried toward the downstairs bathroom. With any luck I could use it quickly enough to arrange myself in some kind of seductive pose on the couch before he came downstairs to let Renzo out one last time.

It didn’t register that the bathroom door was shut. Or that the light was on. Or that steam billowed out to meet me the moment I opened the door.

Which happened to be the precise moment Noah slid the shower curtain aside.

And there he stood. Buck naked. Dripping wet. Hot as fuck.

My jaw fell open.

He looked slightly alarmed for a second—after all, I was an intruder in his house—but then he saw it was me.

“Sawyer,” he said, like he wasn’t at all surprised to see me standing there in his bathroom with my lower lip on the floor. “Are you going to hand me a towel?”

A nice girl would have.

She probably would have apologized too.

At the very least, she would have covered her eyes. Maybe turned around and walked out.

I did none of those things.

“No,” I said, my body catching fire. “I’m not.”

Eleven

Noah

I almost laughed. “You’re not?”

She shook her head, looking like a kid who had inadvertently found the hidden stash of Christmas presents. Kind of guilty, but also gleeful as fuck. Her eyes traveled over every inch of my wet skin, lingering on my cock.

I could easily have reached for a towel myself, but I didn’t. I was enjoying the look on her face too much. And I’d been kicking myself all afternoon for being such a fuckup on the beach. After dropping her off, I’d come home and spent three hours raking leaves and cleaning out the gutters, then I went over and did my mother’s gutters too—I felt like I needed the punishment.

Back at home, I ate a shitty frozen dinner, watched the World Series without really paying attention to the game—and it was the final—and gave myself hell for messing up the one chance I’d ever really had with Meg. I told myself that if I were somehow offered another one, I’d do things a lot differently.

And here she was, still in that hot little red top.

And here I was, stark fucking naked and starting to get hard as I thought about ripping it off her.

“Are you in the habit of breaking and entering?” I asked her.

Again, she shook her head. “I didn’t break in. Your back door was open.”

It wasn’t like me, but it was possible, since I’d been so damn distracted all night.

“And I was just going to use the bathroom real quick,” she went on, obviously flustered. “I didn’t know you’d be in this one.”

“There’s a problem with the drain upstairs, so I came down here.”

“Oh.”

Jesus. The girl could not keep her eyes off my dick. It was both hot and hilarious.

“So you’re not here to steal anything?” I asked.

“No.”

“Were you planning to vandalize the property?”

“No.” She lowered her chin, but finally met my eyes. “I’m more interested in bodily harm.”

Done fooling around, I went at her, threw her over my shoulder, and carried her up the stairs.

Inside my bedroom, I laid her down on top of my comforter, pausing only to remove her shoes.

“You make your bed?” she asked, clearly surprised.