Page 37 of Play Book

“It’s been a lot more than one and I’m definitely not done.” He palms the back of my neck. “I need to be inside you again, Saylor. A lot. You’re driving me fucking wild.”

“Same.”

“I know we had an agreement but…tonight won’t be enough.”

“For me either.”

“I can’t be your boyfriend.”

I make a face. “I honestly don’t even know what that means. I’m thirty-one, not seventeen. We don’t have to go steady to enjoy sex.”

“No.”

“I have one rule.”

“Name it.”

“If we’re doing all these incredibly intimate things… we don’t sleep with other people. If and when you do, that’s fine. You do you. But you don’t bring that shit home to me. Even using condoms… doing oral and stuff puts us both at risk. Minimal risk, but more for me than you since I have neither the time nor the inclination to meet random men at bars and whatnot.”

He’s thoughtful but then nods. “That’s fair. So we’re monogamous while we’re doing this. When it’s done, we walk away.”

“Yes.”

I’m an idiot, but he’s just agreed to the one thing that makes me uncomfortable with casual sex—the idea of bringing random diseases home.

And he’s just dipped his head to kiss me, so I can’t even think about anything else.

Tomorrow, I’ll probably bang my head against the wall, but right now he’s got his hand on my breast and his tongue in my mouth.

Tomorrow seems incredibly far away.

Canyon leaves around five in the morning after a lot more sex, another shower, and what he called a nap. But he has to get home to prep for his road trip, and frankly, waking up with him might be more than I could handle. I’ve thrown caution to the wind with him, but I’m not stupid. Spending more time with someone as handsome, enigmatic, and amazing in bed is going to set me up for heartbreak.

I understand that intellectually, but I’m also firm in my belief that you only live once. In my experience, my biggest regrets are all about the things I didn’t do. And missing out on time with a sexy hockey player who rocks my world seems dumb.

I’m having lunch with Harper and what we call our lunch bunch. We started the group right after the holidays, so we’ve only met twice, but the plan is to do this regularly. We’re all busy, professional women with responsibilities and time constraints, but we’re determined to make time for friendship. It’s important, and never more so than now, when some of us are pairing off, getting married, and thinking about starting families. None of us wants to lose ourselves to those kinds of changes, so we’re pre-emptively trying to prevent it.

“Sorry I’m late!” Harper is the last to arrive, Autumn in tow, and she sinks down across from me at the mid-Wilshire Mexican restaurant we chose.

“The busy CEO,” Autumn mutters, shaking her head.

We all laugh.

“I ordered you a margarita,” I tell her.

Harper looks startled. “Oh, I’ve been trying to lose a few pounds… I’m going dry for the month.”

I cock my head, thinking that sounded odd. Harper was in great shape and worked out five days a week. What was she talking about?

“I’ll drink it,” Autumn interjects. “I need one. My boss has been a bear today.” She gives Harper the side eye.

Harper grimaces. “Sorry. Today really has been a bear all around, and I’ve had a headache for a couple of days.”

“Well, sit back and relax,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows. “Because I have gossip.”

All eyes turn toward me.

Harper’s are filled with amusement, since she can probably guess what I’m about to say.

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