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gaze. He knew he wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say.

      “I wasn’t coming to see you, Erik. I was looking for someone else.”

      * * *

      “OH, I DEFINITELY got screwed.” In more ways than one.

      For the second night in a row, Lola found herself at a bar table with her girls clustered around her for moral support.

      Only this time she’d insisted on nothing but water. Those damn shots had gotten her into enough trouble already.

      No, that wasn’t fair. She’d been tipsy, but she’d been fully aware of what she was doing. By the time she realized she’d crawled into Erik’s bed instead of Sean’s, her libido had taken control and started making the decisions.

      Groaning, she said, “I just...couldn’t stop.” And then dropped her head onto that table. Because hiding would definitely make everything better.

      Tatum snorted. Hope’s soothing hand rubbed down her spine. And some blessed soul plopped a brownie onto the table in front of her. The sweet scent of chocolate should have tempted her at least to look up. It didn’t.

      “It was like no time had passed. Forget how reckless he is. How he nearly got my brother killed. Or the way he just left, breaking up with me by text.” She raised her head, looking around the table. “Text! After dating for five years.”

      What was wrong with her? Six years later she was still so pissed at him. But that hadn’t stopped her from wanting him once she’d been in his bed...

      She’d told him that she wanted closure. And maybe that was partly true, but there was more. Closure probably should have involved a conversation with words instead of their bodies.

      She’d just wanted him.

      Because she was weak. Once she’d touched him, it had all come flooding back. The first time he’d kissed her, on the front porch of her house with her dad peeking through the blinds. But Erik hadn’t cared. He’d wanted her father to know he was taking her seriously. The kiss had been so perfect and sweet, but the expression in his eyes when he’d pulled away...it had slayed her. Crumbled her defenses.

      Or the first time they’d made love, late at night by the lake. He hadn’t pushed her or expected anything. He’d waited until she was ready and then gave her the most romantic, amazing experience. A hell of a lot better than the first time for most of her friends.

      Or the endless, passionate nights they’d shared after. The way he could place his hand on the small of her back and make her feel protected and safe. The expression on his face when he was deep inside her, like she was the only thing on earth worth existing for.

      The countless memories that had hurt for six years had suddenly flooded in again, only this time they weren’t tinged with pain. Just this wonderful sense of right that she couldn’t let go of.

      Even if she knew it was temporary.

      God, she was pathetic.

      Sleeping with him had been a huge mistake. And when she’d told him she’d been looking for someone else, his devastation should have made her feel better. Like she’d given him a little piece of what he’d dished out to her. But it didn’t. It made her feel even worse. No matter what had happened between them, she didn’t want him to hurt.

      Erik had been hurt enough in his life.

      “Dammit,” she breathed out, rubbing her hands over her gritty eyes. She hadn’t slept much last night.

      The door opened and raucous laughter followed. Baritone voices boomed above the general din of the place. It was a Wednesday night, but the bar was still plenty busy. Decorated like an Irish pub, it was the comfortable hangout for singles and couples alike in Sweetheart. Dark wood and mellow light gave it a warm, friendly feel even as the high-backed booths offered more privacy than the round table she and the girls occupied.

      Lola rolled her head, taking in the group that had just walked in. And immediately straightened.

      The last thing she needed was her brother and his phalanx of testosterone-laden friends to see her moping. She just knew word would somehow make it back to Erik. Hell, Colt would probably tell him...if he knew she’d slept with him.

      Which she had no intention of ever telling her brother. This was one mistake she planned to keep to herself and her girls.

      The group, Colt and Sean among them, pushed through the loitering patrons toward a table at the back of the bar, but they got waylaid when they reached the women.

      Gage and Evan slipped up behind their wives, slinging arms around their shoulders or waists. Lola watched Hope and Tatum lean back into their men, a comfortable, familiar gesture that made something in the center of her chest ache.

      She’d had that once. Familiarity and comfort. With Erik.

      Nope, she wasn’t going there. She would not be jealous of her friends and the happiness they’d found.

      Lola pushed out her chair, leaving a space for Colt to roll up beside her. “Hey, sis. Didn’t realize you were out tonight.”

      The other guys pulled up chairs, filtering into their group and taking up conversation. Sean squeezed in on her other side, dropping his arm around her shoulders and tangling his fingers into her hair.

      She turned and gave him a smile that felt sickly. After what happened last night—and what she’d intended to happen—she was a little uncomfortable with him touching her. It felt wrong for so many reasons. But he wouldn’t understand, so Lola left his hand where it was.

      Their waitress came by and took orders. The opportunity for conversation with her girls was gone, but Lola didn’t mind the camaraderie that replaced it.

      These were her people. The ones she could count on to be there for her when she needed them most. Inexplicably, she felt the sting of tears hit her eyes. And out of nowhere, Colt grabbed her hand and squeezed.

      She glanced over at him, wishing she hadn’t when she realized he was watching her with his calm, steady gaze. For a split second she wondered if he knew. Even growing up, he’d somehow had a sixth sense about when she was headed straight for trouble.

      Where’d that skill been last night when she’d needed it?

      “You good?” he asked in a soft voice only for her ears.

      “No.” Because she’d never lie to her brother. Maybe bend the truth or commit the sin of omission, but never outright lie. “I’m pissed at you. Why didn’t you tell me he was back?”

      “Because I knew you’d just build your armor up that much higher. I don’t know what happened between you—I was a little preoccupied and you’ve never shared the details with me—but I do know it’s been holding you back for six years.”

      “It has not.”

      His level stare lasered through her. “Lola, you haven’t had a real relationship since he left.”

      “I’ve dated,” she protested. Which was true. Even if none of those dates had led to more than a nice dinner, some pleasant conversation and occasionally a physical outlet. “And I’ve been busy. It’s hard work building a photography business from the ground up.”

      “Try selling that snake oil somewhere else. I’m the one who books your appointments, sends out your invoices and pays your bills. Your business has been established and highly profitable for the last several years.”

      She harrumphed.

      “Stop using it as an excuse.”

      She wasn’t! Or...crap, maybe she was.

      “You guys need to talk things out. Take the opportunity while he’s home to get some closure, kid.” Colt squeezed her hand again. “So that you can move on with your life and find some happiness.”

      “I’m happy.” She didn’t need

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