Page 63 of Words We Didn't Say

I groaned even louder.

Yvette patted my hand. “If it makes you feel better, there’s also a nice write-up about your work with the youth centre.”

That didn’t make me feel better. “I don’t want people taking pictures of me doing charity work,” I hissed. “I don’t do that for clout or likes. That’s…”Personal.

Andie’s hand landed on my shoulder. She understood.

“This is a disaster,” I said miserably into my cocktail. I twirled the little umbrella stuck in the side. Nope, still miserable. I sighed.

Andie’s gaze turned sideways. “Maybe it’s time to stop stringing along a first-grade rugby player?” She swigged her beer.

I glared at her. “I object to the use of the term ‘stringing along.’”

Still the picture of innocence, she asked, “So you’renotjust using him to make Zach jealous?”

“Of course not.” Maybe a little. It wasn’t the type of behaviour I’d bothered to indulge in before or felt entirely comfortable with now.

“Uh-huh.”

“Since when do you care about Zach’s feelings?”

Andie shrugged. “The suit’s growing on me.” She hid a small smile behind the foamy top of her beer. “I haven’t decided yet if he’s like a boil or a cute li’l freckle.” She was chuckling as she took the sip.

“Wait”—Yvette’s palm went up—“so despite all the dates, the movie premiere, the party where the cops got called in Longueville, youhaven’ttaken the hunk for a test drive?”

“Um…”

“Sweetie, if the rumours are true, Sam knows how to bend for the curves…if you know what I mean.” Yvette winked.

Andie almost choked on her beer. Who could blame her? I was close to puking myself. The idea of touching someone—sleeping with someone—other than Zach made the plantain chips I’d scoffed wage a war in my stomach.

Something was wrong with me.

The only time I’d been this hung up on a man was a misguided crush at the ripe old age of nineteen. That guy had been a dirtbag. Father 2.0. After spending thousands on therapy, it wasn’t a mistake I’d made again. Opening my heart to Zach was a new kind of mistake. I didn’t want therapy to make it better, but I couldn’t have what I wanted. I wanted to live in an alternative timeline where Zach was a lonely monk who’d never touched or even thought about another woman until I’d waltzed into his life to corrupt him. A shiver of pleasure tingled between my legs.Thatwas a fantasy I’d indulge later.

I twirled the umbrella in my cocktail. “The lack of bedroom…er,activitieswith Sam is by mutual agreement.” Basically the truth.

Yvette’s eyebrows shot up. “Say what now?”

“He said to me”—I hulked my shoulders and deepened my voice—“‘Gotta be honest with you, babe. I wanna bang you like crazy, but we gotta wait ’til the season’s over.’ Or something like that.” And I’d never been so relieved.

“Why is banging off the menu until the season’s over?” Yvette asked, sipping her cocktail.

I shrugged. “Something about keeping enough rage simmering to knock everyone’s head off on the field.”

Yvette’s face screwed up. “Erm, weird much?”

“Right?” I laughed.

Yvette and Andie exchanged a look.

“What?” I asked.

Andie’s eyes disappeared to some invented spot of interest on the other side of the bar.

Yvette smiled sweetly. “Oh,nothing.” Her laugh was anything but sweet. “Andie just owes me fifty bucks.”

Zach

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