Page 40 of A Lucky Shot

He felt his smile deepen enough to pop his dimples.

Cass made a pitiful attempt at a glare, a comically incongruous look with her sweet features. “That was one time.”

If that was true, he’d definitely been lucky that night. He splayed his hands between them. “No shade. So, a regular hookup? Friends with benefits?”

“Not exactly friends. And the benefits are pretty limited.”

“Not a friend and no benefits? Sounds like a bad deal.”

Cass’s defensive demeanour wilted, and she slouched into the chair beside him, hands supporting her forehead. “Are we really doing this?” she asked in a pleading voice.

This wasn’t the effervescent woman he knew. Kind of knew. All the confidence and cheer evaporated, leaving this timid, quiet stranger in her place. He sucked in his cheeks, appraising her. “We don’t have to,” he said, softening his teasing tone. “If you’ve had enough of this conversation, we can stop.”

She fiddled with a strap on her boot and let out a resigned sigh. “There’s a guy I used to see. Casually. He and I never really figured out what we were doing,” she said in a low voice, then turned to him with a look of determination. “That’s not true. I wanted to see if things could go further with us, and he didn’t.”

He’d been on the other side of that conversation, more than once. It sucked seeing the other side. “Ouch.”

She looked more embarrassed than weepy about the whole thing. At least that was good. She gave a chagrined shrug. “At least he didn’t lie about it. But I keep coming back for more like the glutton for punishment I am. Last night, I got a text out of the blue and I hopped on that dick like it was a free pony ride.”

God, he loved that unfiltered sense of humour. Almost enough to distract him from thinking about her riding someone else’s dick. She was an adult. She could ride any dick she wanted. He just didn’t need to think about her riding anyone but him.

The memory of whispering filthy nothings against her creamy neck as he buried himself in her perfect pussy popped into his head. She had begged for him. He shifted uncomfortably on his chair as his blood flow headed south.

He wiped his face blank. “So, this fuckboy got under your skin and is leading you around by the cooch?”

“Sounds about right. Cassidy St. Claire falls for the cooch whisperer again.”

“Again? Sounds like a pattern.”

“At the risk of giving out TMI?” She pursed her lips. “I foster fuckboys.”

If she didn’t look so beat up, he’d laugh. “I think that’s the first time I heard you swear. What does that mean?” he said, managing not to choke.

“Men stay with me until they find their forever homes. Libby says it’s practically a public service.”

“So, like, dudes go on to their OTP after dating you?”

“OTP?”

“One True Pairing. Like soul mates and shit. Jesus, it’s like you don’t even read fan fiction.”

“My nerdery lies elsewhere.”

The chair’s fabric strained as he leaned back. “Do tell.”

“Not telling. You’ll laugh.”

Josh pulled his phone out. “Hey Siri, take a note. Find out what Cass’s nerdery is.”

Cass smiled at her shoes.

Good. Smiling was an improvement. “Now, you were saying. Fostering fuckboys as a public service.”

“My record is flawless,” Cass said. She held out her fingers. “Liam got together with Therese while we were dating, now they’ve been together for five years. Rafael and Cindy are getting married next month. Dan and Marta are about to have their second kid.”

“And you dated all these guys?”

“And others. Those are just some recent ones.” Cass gave a rueful smile. “Every single one of them, players until they met me. Once a friend asked me to go out with this guy she had a crush on to see if he’d settle down after a couple dates with me.”

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