“I’m up to no good, that’s for sure,” I breathed, rising up just a little. The feeling of my br**sts crushing against his skin was unimaginable. As I settled on his lap again, I felt his reaction in a very tangible way, and we both groaned at the contact.

“You’re up to no good, huh?” he said, his voice gruff and thick and maple syrup pouring over me.

“No good,” I whispered in his ear as he pressed his mouth against my neck. “Wanna be bad with me?”

“You sure about that?” he groaned, hands clutching at my back with delightful abandon.

“Come on, Simon, let’s bang some walls,” I answered, allowing my tongue to dart out from between my lips and against the skin just underneath his jaw. The scruff scratched my taste buds and gave me a sense of what that very scruff would feel like against other soft places on my body.

O poked her head out just a little more at that point and went straight to Brain, which in turn spoke directly to my hands.

I grasped him firmly at the base of his neck, and positioned him directly in front of me, his eyes flaring wide and turning into tiny little hypnotizers.

His grin was hard, and so was he.

I leaned in and sucked his bottom lip between my teeth, nibbling lightly before biting down and pulling him closer. He came willingly, ceding control as my fingers pulled and pushed at his hair, and my tongue pressed into his mouth as he groaned into mine. Everything in my world now narrowed to just the feeling of this man, this wonderful man in my arms and threaded between my legs, and I kissed him like the world was about to end.

It wasn’t sweet and tentative, it was pure carnal frustration spiked with incomprehensible lust and rolled into a giant ball of please-God-let-me-live-in-this-man’s-mouth-for-the-forseeable-future. My mouth led his in a dance as old as the mountains that watched over us approvingly, our tongues and teeth and lips smacking and cracking and giving in to the sweet tension that had been building since I showed up at his door wearing the inspiration for my nickname.

I shook as I felt his hands reach lower to grasp my bottom and pull me closer still, my legs scrambling as I panted like a whore in church. The Church Of Simon…where I was dying to kneel before him.

My eyes were closed, my legs were open, and I was now moaning into his mouth like some kind of rabid dog. The idea that a kiss, just a kiss, had turned me into this giant lusting bag of CarolineNeedThat was undeniable, and I knew that if he continued to make me feel this way I was going to invite him straight into my Tahoe. Great idea.

“Come into my Tahoe, Simon,” I mumbled incoherently into his mouth.

He paused. “Caroline, come into your what? Oh, God,” he managed, as I pushed us off the side of the hot tub and vaulted us across the water, emptying half of its contents onto the deck and the other half sloshing us around like it was high tide. He slammed me into the opposite wall, pushing me up against the bench and rewrapping my legs around his waist, as I gamely pushed my mouth back onto his, unwilling to let go of him. At one point, I kissed him so hard, he had to push me off so he could catch a breath.

“Breathe, Simon, breathe.” I giggled, stroking his face as he struggled before me.

“You…are…a mad woman,” he panted, his hands looping underneath my arms and curling around the tops of my shoulders, keeping me firmly against the side while I dug my heels into his backside, nudging him to exactly where I needed him. He closed his eyes and bit down on his lower lip, an animalistic growl sounding low in his throat as I launched my second wave of the Lower Caroline-commanded attack.

“You feel uncommonly good,” I moaned as I began to kiss him again, raining them down across his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw, slipping underneath to suck and bite at his neck as he dropped his head back to allow my assault. His hands were rough on me, dipping down low on my back and catching on my bikini strings, loosening the sides. The thought of my na**d br**sts against his skin drove me crazy with lust, and I removed my hands from his poor hair to snake back behind my neck and pull on the knot. As I maneuvered, I knocked into one of the empty bottles of Cava, starting a domino effect of bottles crashing to the ground. I giggled as he pulled back, startled at the sound.

His eyes were smoky blue, crowded with lust, but as they focused on me, they began to crystallize. I finally managed to get to the knot untied and could feel the water swirl across my na**d skin. I started to drop the strings, when Simon grasped them tightly in his hands. He shook his head as though to clear it, then closed his eyes firmly, cutting off our connection.

“Hey, hey, hey!” I prodded, forcing his eyes open and making him look at me. “Where did you go just now?” I whispered.

He wrapped his hands, still holding my strings, back around my neck. He slowly began to tie my suit back together, and I felt my face flush bright red, all the blood in my body betraying me in that instant.

“Caroline,” he began, breathing heavily, but looking at me carefully.

“What’s wrong?” I interrupted.

His hands came to rest on my shoulders, and he seemed to be keeping a specific distance between us.

“Caroline, you’re amazing, but I…I can’t—” he started.

Now I was the one to close my eyes. Emotions whirled behind my eyelids, shame being chief among them. Heart plummeted. I could feel his eyes on me, willing me to open my own.

“You can’t,” I stated, opening my eyes and looking anywhere but at him.

“No, I mean, I…” he stammered, clearly uneasy as he moved away from me.

I began to shake. “You…can’t?” I asked, suddenly feeling icy cold, even in the water. I unlocked my legs from around him, allowing him the room he needed to move away.

“No, Caroline, not you. Not like—”

“Well, don’t I feel like a f**king idiot?” I managed, laughing shortly and pulling myself up and out of the water to the side of the hot tub.

“What? No, you don’t understand, I just can’t—” he started toward me, and I kicked out a leg, pressing my foot square in the center of his chest to keep him away.

“Hey, Simon, I get it. You can’t. It’s cool. Wow, what a crazy night, huh?” I laughed again, swinging over the side and starting for the house, wanting to get away before he could see the tears I knew were on their way. Of course, as I tried to navigate the steps, I slipped in a wet spot and fell with a big thud. I could feel the back of my eyeballs begin to burn as I scrambled up as quickly as I could, panicked that I was going to cry before I could get inside. Now that I was moving, I could feel the effects of all the alcohol I’d consumed, and the beginnings of a very strong headache.

“Caroline! Are you okay?” Simon cried, starting to get out of the hot tub.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Just…” I got out, my throat beginning to close as I choked back a sob. I held my hand out behind me, willing him to understand that I did not need his help. “I’m fine, Simon.”

I couldn’t turn around and see him. I just continued walking away. The cursed big band music still played on the turntable, but I still heard him say my name once more. Ignoring it, I made my way to the door, feeling foolish now in my teeny bikini that was clearly not as enticing as I thought it was.

I didn’t even bother to grab a towel. Instead I threw open the glass door and heard it slam shut behind me as I all but ran for my room. I left little puddles along the slate floor down the hallway, trying to ignore the giggles coming from Sophia’s room. As the tears finally coursed down my cheeks, I locked the door and stripped off my bathing suit. I stumbled into the bathroom, flicked on the light, and there I stood, reflected back to me. Naked, wet hair streaming down my back, a bruise already beginning to form on my thigh from my drunken spill…and puffy, kiss-swollen lips.

I wrapped my hair in a towel, and then leaned on the countertop, bringing my face within inches of the mirror.

“Caroline, my dear, you just got turned down by a man who once made a woman meow for thirty minutes straight. How do you feel?” the na**d woman in the mirror asked me, turning my thumb into a little microphone. She gestured toward me, holding out her thumb.

“Well, I drank enough wine to sustain a small Spanish village, I haven’t had an orgasm in a thousand years, and I will probably die old and alone in a beautifully designed apartment with all of Clive’s illegitimate children swarming around me…How do you think I feel?” I asked back, offering Mirror Caroline her thumb.

“Silly Caroline, you had Clive neutered,” Mirror Caroline answered, shaking her head at me.

“Go f**k yourself, Mirror Caroline, since I can’t even do that,” I finished, ending the interview and taking my na**d ass back into the bedroom. Throwing on a T-shirt, I fell into bed, my drunk self exhausted from the hike and the dinner and the wine and the music and the best make-out session I’d ever engaged in. The thought of it brought my tears to the surface again, and I rolled over to grab some tissues, only to find an empty box, which made me cry even harder.

Stupid Wallbanger voodoo.

Could this night get any worse?

Then my phone rang.

“Pancakes, sweetie?”

“Love some. Thanks, babe.”

Jesus.

“Is there still cream for the coffee?”

“I got your cream right here, honeybunch.”

Sweet Jesus.

Listening to a new couple, much less two new couples was sometimes vomit-worthy. Add that to a hangover, and this was going to be a long morning.

After talking to James on the phone last night, I’d fallen into a deep sleep, aided, no doubt, by all the wine I’d consumed. I woke with a thick tongue, a splitting headache, and a queasy stomach—made even more queasy by the knowledge that I’d have to see Simon this morning and have that weird we-totally-made-out-last-night conversation.

James had made me feel better, though. He’d made me laugh, and I remembered how well he took care of me back in the day. It was a nice memory, and an even nicer feeling. He’d called under the pretense of checking with me about a paint color, which I quickly called as a bluff. Then he’d admitted he just wanted to talk to me, and fresh off the Great Hot Tub Rejection, I was happy to talk to someone I knew wanted my attention. Damn you, Simon. When James asked me to dinner next weekend, I agreed immediately. We’d have a great time…and since my O was back in her hidey-hole, I might as well enjoy a night on the town.

Now, I was seated at the breakfast table, surrounded by two new couples who were filling the kitchen with enough sexual satisfaction to make me scream. I didn’t though. I kept it to myself as Mimi perched happily on Ryan’s lap, and Neil fed Sophia melon balls as though he was put on the earth for this reason and this reason alone.

“How was the rest of your evening, Ms. Caroline?” Mimi chirped, raising a knowing eyebrow. I pressed the tines of my fork into her hand and told her to zip it.

“Wow, grumpy. Someone must have spent the night alone,” Sophia murmured to Neil.

I looked up at her in surprise. The casualness with which they were treating this was really starting to bother me.

“Well, of course I spent the night alone. Who the hell do you think I spent the night with? Huh?” I asked, slamming back from the table and knocking my orange juice glass over. “Ah, f**k it all to hell,” I muttered, stomping off toward the patio, tears threatening for the second time in less than twelve hours.

I sat in one of the Adirondack chairs, looking out over the lake. The cool of the morning soothed my heated face, and I wiped clumsily at my tears as I heard the girls footsteps follow me outside.

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” I instructed, as they took the seats opposite me.

“Okay…but you gotta give us something. I mean, I thought for sure when we left last night, I mean…you and Simon are just—” Mimi started, and I stopped her.

“Me and Simon nothing. There is no me and Simon. What, you thought we’d pair off just because you four finally figured your shit out? You’re welcome for that, by the way,” I snapped, pulling my ball cap down lower on my face, hiding my continuing tears from my best friends.

“Caroline, we just thought—” Sophia began, and I cut her off as well.

“You thought since we were the ones left over we’d just magically become a couple? How storybook—three sets of perfectly matched couples, right? Like that ever happens. This isn’t some romance novel.”

“Oh, come on, you two are perfect for each other. You called us blind last night? Hi, pot. It’s me, kettle,” Sophia snapped back.

“Hi, kettle, you have about thirty seconds before this pot kicks your ass. Nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen. In case you forgot, he has a harem, ladies. A harem! And I’m not about to become his third chippie. So you can forget it, okay?” I yelled, pushing out of the chair, turning for the house, and running right into a quiet Simon.

“Great! You’re here too! And I see you two peeking through the blinds, idiots!” I cried as Neil and Ryan backed away from the window.

“Caroline, can we talk, please?” Simon asked, grasping me by the arms and spinning me toward him.

“Sure, why not? Let’s make the embarrassment complete. Since I know you’re all dying to know, I threw myself at this guy last night, and he turned me down. Okay, secret’s out. Now can we please drop it?” I wiggled out of his grip and walked toward the trail to the lake. I heard nothing behind me and turned to see all five of them, wide eyed and evidently unsure what to do next.

“Hey! Come on, Simon. Let’s go,” I snapped my fingers, and he started after me, looking a little afraid.