After a brief hesitation, she nods. “No, I did. I got it.” She sniffs again. “I just didn’t know what to say. It was really embarrassing when you didn’t remember what happened between us. I feel like I took advantage of you.”

I smirk.

She fights a smile, then shoves against my chest.

“Stop. It was, Reed. What did you expect me to do? Call you back and go over every detail of what we did?”

“That would’ve been awesome.” I grab her waist and lift her so she’s sitting on the edge of the sink. She gasps against my neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up. You have black stuff on your face.” I cup her cheeks when she tries to look in the mirror behind her. She stares up at me, lips parting. “I got it. I made you cry. Let me do it.”

She relaxes against my hands. “Okay.”

Reaching behind her, I grab a few tissues out of the box on the sink. I wipe them along her skin. “And you wouldn’t have to tell me every detail. I am remembering some of it.”

“You are?”

Our eyes lock. Her breath suddenly blowing out faster against my hand.

Nodding, I move to her other cheek. “Yeah, but not a lot. It’s fucking torture, if I’m being honest. I’ll get little flashes of us together, and then, nothing. It’s gone. Then I’m miserable, waiting for the next image to pop into my head. I hate that I’ve been with you and I can’t just think about it whenever I want. These little glimpses of what we did are killing me. I don’t know how you felt around me, what you sounded like when I made you come with my cock.” I tilt my head. “I’m assuming I made you come with my cock. Please confirm that.”

Her cheek lifts against my hand. The slightest blush appears. “You did.”

I turn and toss the tissues into the trashcan. My hand rubs harshly across my forehead. “I’m just waiting for the image to pop into my head of me eating your pussy. I think I’m miserable now, but seeing that is going to really fuck me up. Because I know I did it. There’s no way in hell I didn’t have my mouth all over you. And then I’m going to go around breaking shit when I can’t remember what you tasted like.”

Fucking Jim Beam. I’m never drinking that shit again.

Several seconds go by. I look over at Beth when she doesn’t respond. Head tilted down, eyes on me, peeking through her lashes. Hands nervously fidgeting in her lap.

She wets her lips. My chest expands, and I move.

“I remember what one part of you tasted like,” I say, cupping her cheek to lift her head. My thumb runs just below her mouth, tugging at her chin to part her lips. “I’d never forget it. So sweet and wet, and greedy. You have the greediest mouth. The way you suck on my tongue when you’re coming from my fingers. Biting me. Trying to swallow me whole.” I inch closer, slowly moving in. “Those dirty little noises you make against my lips. And your words to me when you’re right there. More, faster, harder. God, I get so hard just from kissing you.” Her hands fist my T-shirt. I close my eyes. “Beth.”

“CJ asked me out.”

My eyes flash open. Hers may have never closed.

“What?” I ask, leaning away, blinking her into focus.

What the hell did she just say?

She shakes her head, and my hand falls away. “I . . . he asked me out tonight, and I said yes. We’re doing something next weekend.” Her voice is timid. Nervous. Unsure.

Why? She agreed to him. She made her decision already.

I take a step back, needing the space. My hands tuck into my front pockets.

Fuck. What am I supposed to do with this?

Beth slides off the sink, her hands smoothing over the bottom of her dress. She steps closer. “I just didn’t want to be up here kissing you when I told him . . .”

“No, I get it,” I interrupt, halting her words and her movements. I lift my shoulders. “You want to go out with him, go out with him. What the hell does it have to do with me?”

Her lips pull down. “I don’t know. Does it have anything to do with you?”

I stare at her.

Are we really playing this game?

“Beth, what do you want me to say? I just tried to kiss you, and you tell me you’re going out with another guy.”

Something soft hits the door. I turn my attention on it, then look back at Beth when nothing else happens. She’s avoiding my eyes now like I hate, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

I open my mouth to ask her to look at me. “Are you feeling him?”

The wrong damn question comes out.

Jesus Christ. I don’t want to know this. Unless the next words out of her mouth are “No, Reed. I’m feeling you. Now can we please go back to having sex all over this bathroom?” But if she says yes . . .

“He’s nice,” she answers quietly.

Nice? Well . . . fuck. What does that mean?

I let out an exhaustive sigh. “Look, you know I’m miserable. You know I hate that I can’t remember what happened between us. I’ve told you all that. What else do you want?” The same noise from behind the door happens again. “What the hell?”

I look back at the door. Beth moves in my peripheral vision.

“Reed,” she whispers.

The door bursts open, allowing a very sleepy Nolan into the bathroom. He’s dancing around on his feet. Pinching his legs together, then crouching down a bit. I’m not a father, but I know that sign. We need to get out of here so he can do his business.