He leaned down and whispered, just before he touched his lips to mine, “Coping is coping, baby. Either way, you get through it.”

I captured his lips in mine and found myself in his arms. I had one knee firmly between his legs on the bed and raised my body so I was kneeling above him.

“I don’t want her in this house.”

Bryce nodded and left. I heard the front door shut a few minutes later. With a tentative knock at my door, Corrigan called from the hallway, “Can I come in for a minute?”

I didn’t answer and the door was pushed open.

I had laid back down, still wrapped in my towel, but I knew my face was void of emotion.

Corrigan’s eyes skipped over the empty beer bottles.

“Hey,” he murmured and moved to sit beside me. His hand came out to smooth down my hair, but I shoved it away.

“Sorry,” Corrigan breathed, ruefully. He took a deep breath and commented, “So…drunk orgy is the way to go?”

Drunk orgy was the way to go.

He nodded and patted my shoulder. As he moved to the door he stopped short said, “If you want to go hustling, give me a call.”

“I will,” I murmured, hoarsely.

Corrigan threw me a tender smile and moved through the door.

I laid there and heard a murmur of voices from the front hallway. A second later, the door shut again. Another minute and Bryce appeared in the doorway. He had the case of beer underneath his arm.

A grin slipped past my lips at the image of him.

He grinned back and moved to sit on the side of the bed.

After setting the case on the floor, he asked, “You want another one?”

“Yes.” I sat up and leaned against the headboard.

Bryce took two out. He handed one to me and downed his own.

I didn’t down this one, but took some sips as I watched him stand up and empty his pockets. He placed his phone on the nightstand and then pulled his shirt over his head.

He grabbed a handful of condoms and placed them on the nightstand before he sat back on the bed.

He met my gaze.

I took another sip and asked, “Do you think I’m a whore?”

He frowned, but asked, “How many guys have you slept with?”

“Three.” I didn’t hesitate.

“No,” he answered and I knew it was the truth. He had thought about it.

I murmured, “Brian Kincaid. He was my first.”

“Our first time was the end of freshman year.”

“He was before that, long before that. He was my first boyfriend and I thought…I thought it was what I was supposed to do.”

Bryce took a drink from another beer and rubbed a hand over my leg. It wasn’t meant to be seductive, but soothing. Comfort.

“Nah,” he murmured. “Girls don’t have to do anything they don’t want to do.”

“I know that now.” I hadn’t then. I took a deep breath and finished my—I hadn’t been counting—. Bryce took it out of my still numb fingers and placed it in the case.

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” I said quietly and laid back down.

“Yep.” Bryce nodded. “We became really good friends in…?”

“When we were ten.”

“That’s right. And in seventh grade, you kissed me.”

“You kissed me.”

“No.” He shook his head and moved to lay beside me. He flipped on his stomach and threw one arm over my waist. His head rested on my shoulder and he gazed up at me.

“Yes. I remember because it was during recess.”

“No.” Bryce smiled at me, a beautiful sight. He inched closer. “It was during lunch, but you kissed me because you wouldn’t let me go and play football with the rest of the guys. I wasn’t happy with you at all. Why would I kiss you if I wanted to play football?”

I noted, “You’re supposed to always say that you were the one who kissed me.

That’s what a gentleman does.”

Bryce laughed a full laugh and teased, “You admit that I’m right? You kissed me.”

I poked him in the arm. “You’re supposed to be a gentleman and say that you kissed me first.”

Bryce studied me and then said softly, “You’re right. I kissed you first.”

“I know. That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time.” I flashed him a blinding smile.

Then I remembered my mom’s call and the smile vanished.

Bryce lifted his head, cupped my cheek and kissed me softly. It was the softest kiss I’d ever gotten. I think my heart stopped and then it slammed back into me. And it didn’t take long before I straddled him. My towel was shoved off as Bryce lifted up, his mouth still fused with mine. I worked hungrily at his pants. When I managed to get the zipper down, Bryce lifted me up and kicked his pants down with his feet and legs.

When he would’ve rolled me over, I pushed down on his shoulders and tightened my thighs.

Bryce fell back and I slowly nipped at his mouth, his bottom lip, his chin. I slid my mouth down his neck and lingered over his chest.

He groaned, but held still for me. I needed to ravage him.

I inched backwards until my mouth lingered at his trim waist.

I swooped down and I grinned when I heard his sudden intake of breath. His legs convulsed and his back arched slightly.

He swore and I pressed on. Later, when I heard his gasp, I finished it off and licked my way back to his mouth.

Bryce groaned and flipped me over. With a condom already in hand, he sheathed himself and slammed inside.

This time, I was the one who collapsed against the pillow, wrapped my legs around him, and hung on.

It was hot, savage, and I melted as I curled onto my side.

Bryce padded barefoot into the bathroom. After a quick shower, he dressed, and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“Where are you going?” I asked, the bedcovers wrapped around my naked body.

“I’m going to run home and get some clothes. I’ll be back.”

“Take one of my keys. You can let yourself back in then.”

He pressed another kiss to my forehead and lips before he grabbed one of the sets and darted down the stairs.

I got up, showered, and dressed in a jogging suit. I wasn’t planning on jogging, but it looked cute and it was comfortable. Plus, I’d gotten a little drunk from the beer.

Sex with Bryce had helped, but it always helped no matter the circumstances.