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His laugh.

His “Sweetheart.”

And the cuff. What are the odds that two tall men with the same hair color have the same one?

I look back at Jasper, and my eyes bulge. Blond guy who named his penis Cupid!

Oh my God. I groan. No, no, no.

Player lives in the same building as me!

There are millions of people in this city, and yes, I’ve looked for him, but never once did I think I’dfindhim! It was a fantasy, something I used to get me through breaking up with Edward.

“What?” Jasper asks. “Your face is red. You okay?”

I manage a “Fine” as my head replays the highlights of our night like a hazy movie reel.

The first time we had sex, it was slow and sweet; the second round followed, rushed and intense as he picked me up in his arms and pressed me against the wall; the third time, his body caged over mine as he took me from behind; the last round, we lay face to face, my leg over his thigh, his hands worshipping every inch of my skin as if dedicating it to his memory. He called me his little brave princess. He said my eyes were unforgettable, that he’d know me by the scent of my skin. By then I could barely recall my own name. All I knew was how it felt to have him inside me, the smell of us together, the sounds we made.

Having sex with a stranger wasn’t unusual for me.

In fact, one-night stands were my preference until Edward came along.

I went to Decadence to find someone to make me forget his betrayal.

And Player did. Very, very well.

Even now, my body melts at the way he twisted his hips inside me, at his fingers on my clit, at his devilish stamina—

Dammit. This is so confusing. I was into Player, and TuckisPlayer.

Tuck is an ass who has a sorta famous girlfriend.

Huh. Maybe that explains the end of the night.

After the last round, he withdrew, a cloud of tension hovering over him. While I stayed in bed, silent and watchful, he dressed as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. He raked his hands through his hair over and over as he stood in front of the door for several seconds, then left without a word.

It hurt. Maybe it shouldn’t have. I’ve slipped away from lovers before, but it felt like another rejection.

“Sorry?” I come back and realize Jasper had been talking.

He grimaces. “You’re ignoring me. I asked if you came to this restaurant a lot. Maybe that’s why you seem familiar—”

I nod jerkily. “That’s it. Totally.”

“Wanna walk back together? It’ll be nice to have the company, and she gets on my nerves.” He glances over at Tuck and Courtney. They’ve stopped kissing and are talking.

As if he senses my gaze, Tuck turns his head, and his eyes hold mine. His gaze dips to my lips, and my heart jumps in my throat as the electricity sizzles and pops. At least it does for me.

Tuck takes a step in my direction, making me start from my daydreaming.

“Francesca? Hello?” Jasper asks.

“I’ve got some errands—sorry. Enjoy your dinner; bye,” I rush out the words as I turn and take off down the sidewalk in a fast walk.

I get a block away from my apartment when the smell of the crab ravioli assails my senses and makes me gag. I clutch my stomach, make it to an alley, and hurl. My arm brushes my boobs when I wipe my mouth, and I flinch at the flash of pain.

Frustration hits. Ugh. Do I have some awful disease? I’ve been avoiding a doctor, thinking this cold would resolve on its own, and I need to keep my expenses down until I get a job, but ...


Tags: Ilsa Madden-Mills Romance