Page 10 of This Wild Heart

Anya sniffled. “He was so nice at first, and I always thought he was a terrible liar because of his eyes. Kind eyes, Vida! That’s one of the first things we said about him.”

“And … he was sleeping with half a dozen hookers,” Vida supplied. “We are not romanticizing him, sweetie.”

To my utter horror, Anya’s eyes—a bright, vivid blue that I’d never seen before or since—filled with tears. “I know,” she wailed. “But I was with him for four years, Vida.” She turned those eyes toward me, and I swear to God, I’d used my bare hands to pull the ribs from that man’s body for making her look even half this miserable. “Four years. I planned our wedding.”

“You sort of planned it,” Vida pointed out. “Think about how long he wanted you to set a date, and you kept finding reasons not to.” She turned her eyes toward me. “She knew. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”

Anya covered her face and mumbled something that neither of us could hear.

My eyebrows bent in a disbelieving V. “Max Bridges, really?”

She closed her eyes, then dashed her hand at a tear that escaped. “Really,” she whispered. “It was sweet and solid, you know? Comfortable. He didn’t live the loud, party life that most people think of with an athlete.”

There was no stopping the grimace because wouldn’t I be a giant fucking hypocrite if I said anything.

“That,” Vida said, “is the most depressing part of all of this.”

Anya groaned, covering her face. “No, I am not saying that out loud. Moratorium is back in effect. No more Max talk. Ever.”

The neon-bright flare of interest hummed dangerously, and I found myself moving closer. “What?”

“Tell him,” Vida commanded. “He looks like a man who should know this information. I promise, it’ll make you feel better when he loses his mind.”

Anya peeked at me between her fingers, and just like at the wedding, there was a reckless impulse that I decided to follow, gently plucking her hand away from her face. “Come on, you know you want to.”

Her breathing increased, her eyes searching mine while I played gently with her fingers. “You can’t laugh at me.”

“I would never,” I promised solemnly.

Silently, Vida tipped back another shot. “A fucking porno, I swear,” she muttered.

“It’s not like, funny haha,” Anya continued. “It’s actually very depressing, considering how h-happy I was. Or I thought I was,” she amended quickly. “Now I’m just … really pissed off.”

“Okay.” I tugged her finger up to my mouth and nipped at the edge, and Anya’s mouth fell open, her pupils blown wide as I dragged my teeth over the pad of her finger. “Tell me this depressing, not-funny thing.”

Her brows furrowed, and for a moment, she didn’t look drunk at all. Those bright eyes were remarkably lucid as they stayed locked on my own. “Maybe ironic is a better word because he literally could not keep his dick in his pants.”

My mouth curved in a smile. Her fingertips traced over my lips and Anya let out a shaky exhale. “Tell me,” I commanded gently.

When she leaned closer, she smelled like something sweet and clean. Briefly, I eyed the line of her throat and wondered if she’d notice if I licked her there. Just for a second. Anya laid her hand on my arm, and I blinked back up to her face as she sucked in a fortifying breath. “He was terrible in bed, and I just didn’t know any better because he was my first.”

“What?” God, my voice came out all low and horrified.

Vida made a disappointed humming noise. “Iknow. Look at her. So smart.Sofucking hot. What a waste, right?”

“No,” I said to Anya. “No, honey, tell me that’s not true. He’s the only man you’ve been with, and…”

“Never,” she whispered. “He’s never given me an orgasm. I always had to … you know … finish myself.”

I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. “I can’t take this. You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

Vida laughed. “Don’t you just want to fix it for her?”

My head snapped up.“Yes.”

Anya held her hands out. “See? I win.”

I grabbed the bottle and poured us all another shot. “This is a bullshit game. Sad shots for everyone.”

---