I peek at my FitBit to check the time. 7:38 AM. Practice should be wrapping up any minute. I have an 8:00 AM cla.s.s. Photography. Craning my neck to the right, I feel a delicious tingle that travels down my shoulder and arm. I'm sore from last night and it feels good, fulfilling. He was fulfilling.

Kay claps her hands again, signaling the end of practice. Tossing my practice duffle over my shoulder, my back aches slightly and I smile, reminded of his bruising touch, his unbridled pa.s.sion.

Too tired to walk home today, I climb the two steps up onto the team bus and scan the rows quickly before taking an empty seat on the left. Turning toward the window, I pop in my earbuds and choose a random playlist from Spotify.

He had large, rough, calloused hands that sent chills up my spine and unleashed b.u.t.terflies in the pit of my stomach when he touched me. Pulling my hair out of its ponytail and combing my fingers through my tangled ma.s.s of curls, his scent engulfs me once more. It's heady and wild and complicated.

What the h.e.l.l was his name?

Chapter Eleven.

Zack

My hand rests in the dip above Lauren's a.s.s, my fingers itching to slide south as I guide her into Philips' and Marissa's apartment. They own a brownstone a few blocks from campus in the ritzy area of Rittenhouse Square, compliments of Philips' grandmother. As nice as it is to see my friend in a relationship with a good girl, I can't help but think if he would be so "in love" with Marissa if his whole family wasn't pushing for an engagement. It's a lot of pressure for a twenty-two-year-old to wrap his head around. I mean, who the h.e.l.l hosts a wine and cheese night in college anyway?

I guess that's the way of things when your father owns a tech company and her father is a senator. Politics suck.

"We're here," Lauren calls out as she pushes into their apartment.

I let my fingers slide down her a.s.s as she steps forward. Lauren looks beautiful as always. Tight skinny jeans and a flowy white halter top. Gemstones sparkle from her sandals and a bright green purse hangs from her shoulder. She's the perfect blend of understated cla.s.s. Always has been.

After our dinner date on Tuesday ended with breakfast in bed Wednesday morning, I'm relieved, maybe even happy, that she's back in my life.

"Yay!" Marissa squeals, coming forward and enveloping Lauren in a warm hug. She's wearing a brightly colored paisley-printed dress. Like the Lily Pulitzer s.h.i.t Nicole always scoffs at. Philips better go into politics because Marissa would make the perfect congressman's wife.

I cough through my laughter. I really need to call my sister.

"Zackary, you're looking well." Marissa kisses my cheek, patting my shoulder with her palm.

I will not roll my eyes. "You too, Maris." Her nose wrinkles momentarily in distaste at the nickname. Is it f.u.c.ked that I take pleasure in her discomfort? Probably.

"Hey, man," Philips calls from the kitchen as we make our way into the living room. The brownstone really is beautiful with an open-concept floorplan, huge windows, and high ceilings. It's what most couples would aspire to buy in their thirties. Philips just beat them to it. "Want a beer?" He comes around the corner from the kitchen into the living room and holds out a Stella.

"Marcus!" Marissa scolds. "We're doing wine and cheese."

Philips shrugs, his arm shrinking back slightly. Before it can retract completely, and take the beer with it, I swipe the bottle from his hand. "A beer would be great. Thanks." I say, smiling at Marissa to take away the sting.

She shrugs and tugs at Lauren's hand. "Come on, I'll pour us some wine. Everyone else should arrive in the next half hour so it gives us a chance to catch up."

Lauren's eyes dart over Marissa's shoulder to me. I smile again and watch as they leave the living room.

"How's it going?" I ask Philips.

He shrugs. "All good." He rubs the back of his neck. "Hey, you mind taking a walk around the corner with me? I forgot to pick up ice. And as much as Marissa wants this to be all about wine and cheese, I'm sure the guys will want real drinks."

I nod. Of course the guys will want real drinks. We officially go dry in the spring semester so the fall is our only chance to really enjoy college. "Let's go." I place the beer bottle down on an end table and try not to wince as Philips slips a coaster beneath it. Really?

"Marissa, we're going to grab ice," he calls out.

"Okay." Her voice is slightly shrill.

Philips' shoulders tighten imperceptibly as I follow him out of the brownstone and down the stairs leading to the street.

"How're things with Lauren going?" he asks as we hit the pavement.

"Good. I mean, she's a great girl. Things between us, they're never complicated, you know?"

"There's a lot of history there."

"Exactly."

We cross the street, pa.s.sing by the Rittenhouse Hotel. A girl turns in front of the hotel, her long dark hair fluttering in the wind before settling around her shoulders. She laughs, her palms sliding up her boyfriend's arms, her fingers locking behind his neck. And the gesture is shockingly familiar. As is the girl.

"Is that Maura Rodriguez?" Philips asks, his chin tipping up to motion in Maura's direction.

s.h.i.t.

"Uh, I don't know. Doesn't really look like her."

"Yeah, man. That's totally her. Who is she with?" Philips asks, veering off the sidewalk and closer to the hotel. "s.h.i.t, that guy's old."

f.u.c.k.

"Maura!" he calls out.

She jumps back from the guy as if she's been electrocuted. Noticing Philips, she smiles weakly, letting her arms drop to her sides. "Hi, Marcus."

"What are you doing here?" Philips keeps at it, walking up to the hotel entrance.

"Just catching up with a friend." She gestures toward the guy standing next to her.

He shuffles back a few steps. His eyes cut to Maura before he extends a hand to Marcus. "Hey," he says casually.

Marcus tries and fails to keep his face blank as he shakes hands with Maura's "friend."

I step up behind Philips.

"Hi, Maura." I smile at her.

"Hey."

"Who's your friend?" I ask.

"Uh, this is ..." She trails off, her eyes darting up to his face.

"Sorry, Maura. I have to go," the guy says suddenly, his eyes cutting to his watch. "Good, uh, you know, good seeing you." He raises a hand in a half-wave and turns around quickly, but not quick enough as I catch the wedding band on his left hand.

Maura shrugs. "See ya," she says to his retreating back before turning toward Philips and me. "Good to see you guys. I got to head back to campus. Have a good night." She begins to walk away, her tight black skirt sliding up her thighs with each step she takes.

She was going out with a married man?

"Maura, wait," Philips calls out. I seriously want to slug him at this point. Why is he making this situation so much worse than is has to be?

She stops in her tracks, pausing for a moment before turning again. She stares at Philips expectantly.

"Marissa and I are having some friends over. Wine and cheese. Come with us." He walks toward Maura and rests his arm around her shoulders. "We miss seeing you." He smiles down at her.

f.u.c.king Philips.

I can sense the discomfort rolling off Maura, detect it radiating from her pores. The protective urge I feel to ease her discomfort surprises me but has me reacting nonetheless. "If you have other plans, I can walk you home." I give her the out.

"Nah, man. Maura's coming with us." Philips decides for her, walking a few steps and dragging Maura along.

Philips sucks.

Chapter Twelve.

Maura

I feel Zack's eyes watching me as I shuffle along next to Marcus.

Busted.

After earlier this week, tangling up in the sheets with the DILF from the Rittenhouse Hotel seemed like a good idea. Besides, I had to learn his name, right? So I went back. Every night this week. Scotch and s.e.x never tasted so good.

Every night together he removed his wedding band.

And each morning he slid it back onto his ring finger.

His name is Grayson.

And for a thirty-eight-year-old man, he's s.e.xy as f.u.c.k.

Tonight we were going to grab dinner before moving things back to his hotel suite but now it appears that plan is shot to h.e.l.l.

I never expected anyone to see us together, but if I had to get caught at least it was Marcus and Zack, two guys who do not go to my school, don't know my friends, and probably don't care either way.

So it's like not being caught at all.

When Marcus saw me, I could see the confusion clouding his eyes. Most likely he thinks Grayson is an old hookup of mine. He's thinking maybe Maura has a thing for older men. So be it.

But Zack. Zack already saw me with Hector. And he didn't even try to hide the concern in his deep blue eyes. And that worries me.

So I'll stay tucked into Marcus' side and pretend I can't feel Zack's caring eyes trying to strip me bare. Emotionally speaking of course.

Zack is back with Lauren. Not that I care. She's a nice girl. Adrian always liked her. At least at first he did. Around the time that things between Lauren and Zack went south, Adrian changed his tune. Still, it's not for me to judge. Lauren's always been perfectly nice to me. She was always a fixture at the regattas, in Adrian and Zack's dorm room, at all the crew parties. She seems like a nice enough girl. I'm sure she's good for Zack. He should be happy. Yada, yada.

Still, when her blue eyes meet mine as I enter Marcus' and Marissa's apartment, I feel a buzz of anger cut through me. She touches my shoulder lightly before pulling me into a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Maura. How are you doing?" she asks, her voice dripping in sympathy, her eyes shining with compa.s.sion.

And I want to punch her.

Right in her beautiful face.

"I'm good. How are you?" I m.u.f.fle into her thick mane of hair.

"Good, thanks. It's so good to see you." She leans back, peering into my face, one hand still clasping my shoulder. "I didn't even know you were coming tonight! Zack, you should have told me." She turns to Zack, slipping her other arm around his waist and pulling him into our little circle.

Zack flashes me a look I can't read before opening his mouth.

"It was a last-minute thing," I cut in smoothly. "I'm going to grab a drink. Can I bring you anything?" I look from Lauren to Zack, desperate to make my getaway.

"I'm good." Maura laughs, picking up a wine gla.s.s from a nearby end table.

Zack shakes his head no.

Thank G.o.d.

I escape to the kitchen just as the front door swings open and more members from the LaFarge crew team and their plus ones enter the apartment. The living room quickly fills with noise, and I search out a quiet place to hide.