“No. You’re not,” I conceded softly. “But you didn’t want anything to do with me until you found out Patrick is your son. So you’ll have to excuse me if this,” I waved to the tiny towel and the rest of his torso, “this act falls on deaf ears and indifferent hormones.”

As I spoke, his eyebrows jumped in surprise. “Is that what you think? That I only want you because of Patrick?”

“Yes. Of course, Bryan. I kissed you and you told me that you weren’t interested.”

“That’s not what I said. Of course I was interested! I’d have to be a bloody eejit not to be. I said I wasn’t any good for you, that you were a nice girl and—”

“Saying I’m a nice girl is the same thing as giving me the brush-off,” I scoffed.

“You are a nice girl,” the side of his mouth hitched, his eyes infinitely cherishing. “You are the nicest girl. And the cleverest girl. And the most beautiful. And the strongest. And—”

“Stop. Please stop.” I shook my head, closing my eyes against his handsome attack and repeated what I knew to be true. “I’m forgettable to you.”

“Oh, Eilish.” He sounded tortured. “I was drunk. I was an arsehole. I’d say it was the worst mistake of my life, but it gave us Patrick.”

“Why can’t you just let this be?” I pleaded. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you are not forgettable.” His voice deepened and sounded gruff with frustration. “I can’t have you believing that. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Will’s birthday party, and trust me, I’ve tried. I have a spider plant at home that is very much alive as proof.”

“Spider plant? What are you talking about?”

“You’re all I think about,” Bryan threaded his fingers into my hair, tugging me forward with a subtle movement, “And I know you think about me.”

I couldn’t deal with this, with him and his. . . words. My heart was on a rollercoaster, bouncing between hope and levelheadedness.

“I don’t trust you,” I admitted, opening my eyes but unable to lift them past his neck.

He hesitated, then said, “What is it going to take for you to give me a chance?”

“It’s too late.”

“Why? Why is it too late?”

I shook my head once, about to cave in, about to say, I don’t know, when William Moore opened the locker room door.

Bryan straightened immediately. It took William a moment to spot us, but by the time he did, Bryan had separated us by three steps and had crossed his arms over his chest.

I took a deep breath and attempted to find my wits, stumbling over my words. “William, I’m so sorry. I was running late and—”

“Don’t worry about it.” The big American smiled at me, which I understood was a rare occurrence, and stepped completely into the room. “Are you sure you still have time?”

Again, William Moore was just the nicest guy ever.

The. Nicest.

“I do.” I faced him and nodded. “Sean picked up my son, so I have until eight.”

I felt Bryan’s gaze move between us, but I ignored it. I ignored him and his . . . offer. If I dwelled on our conversation with him so close—and wearing so little—I would become weak again. I might even give in to him, and I couldn’t do that. I needed to stall, I needed time to think. Thinking clearly in his presence was impossible, and I was upset with myself for still wanting him.

Yes. I still wanted him. My hands were shaking and I vibrated with how badly I wanted him. But our first time would be our only time because I would never make that mistake ever again.

“Oh.” William nodded, looking thoughtful as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You should go home; we can reschedule for another time.”

I tried to focus on William’s words but I was too distracted by my torrent of emotions. I wasn’t stupid, not anymore. I knew what I’d felt for him all those years ago hadn’t been love. It hadn’t even been infatuation.

It had been lust.

Just lust.

Lusty lusting mclusterston lust. And that’s it.

Lust was empty, and it left you cold, forgotten. It could also leave you with superpowers in your uterus.

And that’s all you’re feeling now. So, lesson learned, moving on.

“Wait a minute,” Bryan cut in, drawing William’s attention to him. “Wait a minute, are you two . . .?”

It took William longer to catch on than me, and in those precious seconds I made a decision. Was it a good decision?

Hard to say.

Actually, no.

It was a bad decision.

But I made it nevertheless.

“Yes. We are.” I nodded fervently, glancing to sweet William and begging him with my eyes to play along. “We’re dating. William and I are dating.”

Oh my God oh my God oh my God! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

. . . dun dun DUN!

William’s large eyes moved from me to Bryan and then back again, his mouth opening, then closing. A small sound escaped his throat and I winced, crossing to him with quick steps and taking his arm.

To his credit, William didn’t move away and he didn’t contradict. But he did stare down at me sharply.

“We are a couple,” I squeaked, then cleared my throat. “We’d like to keep it quiet if you don’t mind, as it’s all very new.” Despite my preventative throat clearing, my voice was still strained and cracked.