Page 63 of Plays Well With Others

Stuff. All the stuff I missed when I was in Los Angeles with my ex. I could have been doing that stuff with Carter. But you can’t change the past, or your past choices. You can only make better ones in the present.

“And then we started seeing each other one night after we all went to Japantown,” he adds, but there’s a curt sort of finality to it.

Still, I need to know. “So she was a friend, but she’s not in your life now?”

His jaw tics, then he lets out a long breath. There’s a touch of irritation in it. He’s like that every now and then when he doesn’t want to talk about things. “Rachel, she’s not like away backfriend. Besides, she broke it off when I missed a date,” he grumbles, then drags a hand through his hair.

I’ve touched a sore spot. “Sorry I asked,” I say, since no onelikesto talk about exes. Especially Carter.

He waves a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. She’s an ex. That’s all.”

She’s also anex-friend, which worries me. But I’m not going to belabor the point. Because part of the point is that his exes didn’t entirely understand him. That he’s sometimes late. That he sometimes forgets. Maybe he didn’t tell them about his ADHD. Whatever the reason, I’m not going to push about Izzy’s absence in his life. “I get it,” I say, trying to be as upbeat as I can about it.

“Good. Now Let’s talk about something else.”

“Like what?” I ask, letting him lead so I don’t poke a wound again.

He smirks, then he grabs my hips and, in one swift move, tugs me onto his lap so I’m straddling him.

“Like asking for what you want. I’ll go first.” He pauses, his eyes glinting with no doubt very dirty thoughts. “How sore are you?” he asks as he lifts his hips, grinding up into me. Letting me feel the ridge of his cock again. He’s semi-hard.

I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. But I didn’t stop going to HIIT classes even though I could barely move after the first one.

Besides, this is what I wanted at my breakup party. So I swivel my hips, rocking against his growing erection. Time to show him what a good student I can be. “I mean, I did say a week or so ago that I wanted to get back on the horse,” I point out helpfully.

He lifts a hand and runs his thumb along my jawline. “You should ride me, baby,” he says, and he’s all the way hard now.

I shiver and he pulls my face closer so he can kiss me again. This kiss is playful. He nibbles on the corner of my lips. Then he nips along my jawline, murmuring as he goes. When he reaches my ear, he bites the lobe.

Is Carter a biter? Do I want him to bite me?

I think I do. But do I just ask? I should, since we just talked about that. But I don’t know how to say it though, and I’ve done enough thinking for one night. Enough asking too. I’ll figure it out another time since I can’t really think anyway when he presses another new kind of kiss to my lips.

This one’s possessive.

And in the span of one night, I’ve learned Carter Hendrix can kiss hard, soft, and teasing.

He can kiss like this too—like he owns me.

And he does just that as I ride him on the couch till I’m so far gone, I barely realize I’m tugging his face to my chest and asking for something without words.

That’s new too. Trusting my body to ask. Trusting my instincts.

* * *

In the morning, with him long gone, I look in the bathroom mirror, running a hand down my throat to my chest. There’s a mark above my right breast. A dark red bruise.

I love it more than I ever knew I would.

21

NICE SCARF

Rachel

The second I walk into Elodie’s home on Saturday morning, my friend is all business. She points to the stools at the kitchen counter, then taps her wrist. “You’ve got ten minutes till Amanda is back from ceramics class.”

“I gave you the headline over text,” I point out coyly as I breeze over to the counter. Juliet’s here too, her eyes wide and eager, already waiting for Tales from the Great Wednesday Night Banging. We’re all heading up to Petaluma to have lunch with my parents today. Elodie’s driving, so that’s why we’re here at her place. “Wasn’t that enough?” I tease.

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