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“Not technically…”

His brows jump. “So what…you half-cheated? What does that even mean? You cheated on the first page but not the last?”

I hold up my hands. “Whoa, can I explain?”

“Please.”

“Sebastian gave me old exams, and I just memorized all the answers. I didn’t bring the tests to class or copy the answers on my hand. I’m just beating the system. There’s no harm in that.”

Lo takes a moment to process this, and just when I think he’s going to yell at me, he asks, “What did you make on the other exams before you did this?”

“44 and 29.” Two horrible grades that I didn’t think humanly possible. Actually, that’s a lie, I’ve made a 7 on a test before—and I think the Penn professor was just being nice about that too. I reread my exam and it sounded like a planetary alien took the test and wrote in a different language. Honestly, the professor asked me if I was dyslexic. I couldn’t really tell him the truth. I’m so exhausted from all the crazy sex I’m having that I can barely process words let alone sentences. You’re lucky I even showed up to this class, Mister.

Lo is still thinking, so I add, “I’ve been getting C’s in my other classes. Statistics is the hardest for me.”

“You’re right. It’s not really cheating,” he says. I can’t help my smile, my face filling with glee. “But…”  I don’t like buts…scratch that, I remember that I do like butts with double T’s. Like my butt. His cock.

Lo waves a hand in front of my face. “Did you hear me?”

“I lost you on but.”

“Jesus, you really want anal sex,” he says with a grin. I open my mouth to ask him for it, and he quickly says, “No, love. Not right now.” Boo.

Lo continues without missing a beat, “So Sebastian gave you old exams. What did you give him?”

“Nothing,” I say with a shrug. “He said he was doing it because I’m Rose’s sister and…” I taper off, knowing this is where Lo will get pissed.

And…” Lo prods.

“And he told me that he doesn’t like Connor and Rose together, and I think he may try to break up their relationship. Anyway…” I clear my throat. “I can’t warn her about Sebastian, or else—”

“He’ll keep the exams,” Lo finishes and then nods.

Red hot shame fills me, and this doesn’t even have anything to do with sex.

Lo says nothing more. He takes a long time to process everything internally.

My nerves gather at his silence. “I need those exams, Lo. You know I need them. What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Lo mutters. He rubs the back of his neck.

I shift uneasily. “Connor is the first real friend that we’ve ever had, and I’m standing over on Team Sebastian…unwillingly.”

“We’re going to have to think about it.” He stares hard at the floor, plotting. “For right now, let’s just keep this between us.”

“Are you sure?”

Lo meets my gaze, recognizing the flash of guilt in my eyes. He pulls me closer to his chest and runs a hand down the back of my head in comfort. “Your priority is to pass this class. Try not to think about anything else.”

“Connor—”

“He’ll be fine for now. He’s the most confident, self-assured guy in the world. He can handle Sebastian without either of us.”

I think he’s right, but we both also know it’s not the moral path—the one that good friends take. Being sober isn’t our only challenge. Becoming human, functioning people in this big vast world means making friendships and sustaining the very few that we already have.

There is no college course to “be a better friend” or “be a less shitty human being.” Or else I would be signed up for both.

We’re selfish, in every sense of the word.

I just don’t want to fracture our friendships because of it.

{ 14 }

LILY CALLOWAY

The hardest part about being in a committed relationship with Lo isn’t losing the sex with strangers. It’s losing that moment where I become someone else. Where the shy, insecure Lily turns into a confident vixen. Where I’m completely and utterly in control and as my conquest looks at me with a heavy-lidded gaze, he knows it too. I was someone else during those moments. Someone better maybe.

The longer I’m monogamous, the more I forget what being that confident, brazen Lily feels like. It’s like parting with a best friend for so long that their face becomes a blurry haze. I don’t miss her enough to cheat on Lo. I just wonder if I’ll ever see her again.

But I know who I never wanted to meet.

Sadie.

Connor’s evil, orange tabby cat glares at me from across his apartment living room. All those grumpy kitties on Tumblr are not just photoshopped. Sadie is proof that felines can contort their face with such hot-tempered malice.

Lo and I sit on Connor’s dark green leather sofa, his apartment decorated like a bachelor pad. Instead of red Solo cups lined on the bar, he has an array of expensive liquors locked away in a glass cabinet. Lo glanced at them once or twice, and Connor ushered us to a seat where our back is turned to the alcohol. That pissed Lo off a little. He doesn’t want to be babied.

Afternoon light streams through windows that fill the entire back wall and the adjacent one. From floor to ceiling, Connor has a perfect view of Philly’s old brick architecture. Like most expensive bachelor pads, Connor has art décor that makes very little sense to me.

There’s just a porcelain ball stationed where a chair should be. I can’t tell if it’s an empty flower pot or a vase. There’s no hole for lilies—okay that came out wrong. But really, it seems silly to have a ball thing just taking up space. I guess that’s why they call it nonfunctional art.

The floors are concrete, but in the living area, he has a nice cream rug that Sadie apparently loves. Because she has yet to step off it. She struts in front of the couch, back and forth, her white tail wagging mischievously.

I have my eye on you, I say with a narrowed gaze.

Despite feeling violated by Sadie, I am relatively hopeful today. I want everything resolved with this blackmailer, evil-texter, or whatever the hell he is. I want to move on and focus on getting healthy.

The bell rings, and Connor opens the door. “You’re late,” he says flatly, in a Connor Cobalt, I dislike you tone that very rarely presents itself.

Ryke’s jaw hardens. “I’m the captain of the track team,” he says. “I can’t leave practice first.”

“No, I wouldn’t expect you to do anything first,” Connor retorts.

Lo and I exchange hesitation. Something tells me that Connor is not Ryke Meadows’ number one fan. And normally, I’d be suspicious that maybe Connor knows Ryke is behind all of this—that Lo’s brother is the one we should be wary of. But their little heated looks began around the time Ryke dissed Connor in public. It wasn’t one sole event. It was many things. Like Ryke calling Connor an ass kisser in front of his track buddies. Ryke can say those things in private, in front of us, and Connor just shrugs, but hurting his reputation in public crossed a line.

Ryke looks about ready to push through the doorway.

But Connor leads him in before Lo’s brother becomes physical. Connor sits on a buttoned leatherette chair across from us, but Ryke plops right next to Lo on the couch. And I’m reminded that my sister isn’t here to be on my team. Her schedule is too hectic to make the drive to Philly, so unfortunately, I’ll have to carry on without her.