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“It’s not like that,” I correct her, shaking my head.

“Maybe. But that’s what it sounds like.

“Oh fuck…” I mutter into my glass of whiskey before finishing the rest of the double. “I fucked this up, didn’t I?”

“Fucked what up?” Declan chimes, walking into our conversation.

“The big guy asked to see the girls separate.”

Smacking his hand up the backside of my head, Declan gruffs, “You fucking twat.”

“For someone who lives on threesomes, you’re pretty fucking stupid.” Finn’s voice drips with condescension as he sidles up to the bar. “Rule number one, youneversplit them up or give one more attention unless you don’t want to see them again.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I insist. “I was trying to help.”

“Yes, because your cock is clearly the fix to whatever the issue is,” Declan ridicules me, and I dip my head to avoid another swat that I know is coming.

“You care that you fucked this up, don’t you?” Layla asks, studying my face.

Scrunching my face, I refute her observation. “Don’t be fucking soft. I’ve fucked them twice. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

Without missing a beat, Layla asks, “When’s the last time you fucked the same woman twice?”

I think back through my conquests—too many nameless or faceless women to count—in an attempt to answer her question.

Fuck...

CHAPTER NINETEEN

VICTORIA

“We appreciate your very generous donation.” I shake hands with another benefactor who probably has no idea what today’s charity luncheon is actually in aid of. Wandering through the small crowd, I mingle and make small talk with a fake smile. On top of already being annoyed that I’m spending my Saturday afternoon here instead of with my sweet girl, I could still strangle Conor fucking Evans over his blatant audacity last night.

I’ve been stewing over my interaction with Conor since my Town Car pulled from the curb last night, leaving him dumbfounded. Mulling over the situation I’ve put us in, I have repeatedly come to the same decision…This is a horrible fucking idea.The sexual attraction both Elena and I feel toward him—and the insane amount of enjoyment we get from being with him—isn’t worth him pushing us to ruin our relationship.

Pulling my phone from my clutch when it buzzes, I nearly don’t open it when the notification alerts me that it’s a text from him.

Conor

I’m a fucking idiot

Because of what you said? Or the fact it took you nearly a day to admit to it?

Both. I don’t do this

What? Apologize?

Whatever THIS is.

I can’t remember the last time I fucked the same hole twice

Fuck.

I didn’t mean it like that.

This is one hell of an apology, Conor.

I laugh at his string of messages, the culmination of which is a glaring reminder of why I primarily date women. Inadvertently, I draw the attention of one of our biggest benefactors. I fawn over him, letting the old man know how unbelievably thankful I am… all while trying to find an excuse to end this conversation to get back to my relentlessly vibrating phone.

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