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Reaching out, I carefully pry the cup from her fingers, placing it next to mine, before taking her hands in mine. “Joy. I asked you to come for a coffee because I wanted to apologize to you.”

She blinks. “Apologize? For what?”

“For kissing Coach Masters—Lane,” I say slowly, because surely, it’s obvious. “I got caught up in the moment and, I know it’s a lame as fuck excuse, but I’m gonna blame it a little on the alcohol, too. I’m mostly sorry because I’m a self-absorbed idiot. It didn’t even cross my mind that I was kissing someone who hurt you, and I totally understand if you can’t forgive that.”

Joy stares at me, and I try not to focus on the way my heart is pulsing in my throat.

“Aldo,” she says, squeezing my fingers. “We weren’t dating. We were hanging out and we had sex once. It’s not like you were cheating on me.”

Her words sound true, but I struggle to believe them. I know we weren’t dating, but I also know if I’d seen her kissing someone else in that club, I would have felt inclined to knock him out, or punch the nearest wall. Neither option particularly productive, but both equally necessary.

“Either way, I shouldn’t have done it,” I say. “I’m okay shouldering that responsibility. And even if we weren’t exclusive, I shouldn’t have kissed him.”

She gives me a small smile. “I must admit, it was a surprise.”

I shake my head. “My sexuality aside, it was thoughtless, and I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s like you want me to be mad at you,” she says, her eyes narrowing.

My shoulders lift in a shrug, her hands still in mine. “Maybe I do. I’d deserve it.”

“Okay, fine,” she says on an exhale. “Once I got over the shock, it hurt. But honestly? It was more because Lane claims he’s here to win me back, and he says that’s still the case, but his actions clearly say otherwise.”

A strange feeling stirs in my gut. “Do you want him to win you back?”

“I don’t know.” Joy groans and pulls her fingers from mine, dropping her head back against the sofa.

I stare at her for a moment. “You really thought I was fucking around with Coach Masters?”

“You were practically humping him on the dance floor,” she says. “And I think you can call him Lane now.”

I roll my eyes. “I just don’t understand why you’d think that.”

“You’ve been distant since the weekend,” she says. “I figured you were trying to figure out a way to tell me.”

“Very dramatic.” I grin and nudge her with my knee. “I was keeping my distance because I thought you were mad at me, and I couldn’t stand it.”

She huffs a laugh. “Looks like we’re both idiots.”

“No.” I reach out and take her hand again. “I’m still the only idiot.”

The smile slides from her face. “Things haven’t changed, Aldo. I still don’t want a relationship. With anyone.”

“I know.” I nod, even though my lungs constrict a little. “But I missed you. I missed this.”

“It’s been three days, Aldo.”

“And I missed you for all three of them.”

“Now who’s being dramatic?” She rolls her eyes and pulls free of my grip, reaching for her coffee.

“I’m Italian,” I say with a shrug. “It’s cultural.”

“Oh my god, you can’t use that for everything!” Her laugh stokes a fire in my soul, and I beam at her as I pick up my own coffee and take a sip.

“Can we talk about you and Doug?” she asks quietly.

I choke.

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