“Okay, so you show up to dinner in a robe. Was he aware nothing was on underneath?”

“It’s as if he has X-ray vision. I swear he sees everything. Anyway, we started getting into it again, because that’s what we seem to do.”

“Naturally, both of you like to be correct, both of you like to be in control. Sparks will fly when personalities clash.”

“Boy did they clash.” I think back to last night and it feels like a black hole in my head. “I can’t really tell you what we were fighting about. I know I was quiet and he didn’t seem to like that, so he provoked me. I told him I didn’t trust him, I think.” I tap my chin and then shake my head. “All I know is that I couldn’t sit at the table with him any longer, so I got up and went back to my room.”

“Oooo, I bet he didn’t like that.”

“He didn’t, and he made it known.”

“Did he send you a nasty text?”

I shake my head. “Worse. He came after me.”

Kelsey sits taller. “Oh, tell me more.”

Getting into the storytelling, I say, “I was inches from reaching my room when he snagged my hand from behind. And before I knew it, I was pinned against the wall.”

Kelsey gasps, hand to her chest. “Like . . . in a sexual way?”

I slowly nod.

“Lottie, what the hell did you do?”

“I did absolutely nothing. He was the one doing all the things.”

Kelsey nibbles on her thumb. “What kind of things?”

“He tugged my robe open.”

“He did not.” Her eyes widen and then she whispers, “Did he?”

“He did. But it never fell open, just was undone . . . undone enough for him to, uh, you know . . . lower his hand.”

Kelsey slaps the table. “Stop, he did not. He . . . he . . . fingered you?”

I nod. “Yup. He did.”

Hands by her head, Kelsey pretends her head is exploding. “You went from fighting, at each other’s throats, to him touching you in the hallway. How the hell does that even work?”

“I don’t know, and for the life of me, I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. I wanted him to keep doing what he was doing, and I wanted it to last all night.” I cover my forehead with my hand. “God, Kelsey, am I a whore?”

She laughs. “No. You aren’t a whore, but you are confusing, that’s for sure. I never would’ve thought you were interested in doing something like that with him. Not with the way you two seem to hate each other.”

“He said I hate him, but he doesn’t hate me. But I guess even if I think he’s an asshole, I still want his fingers inside me.” I shrug. “I’m pretty sure that means I’m fucked in the head.”

“They always say there’s a thin line between love and hate.”

“Oh no, don’t start with that. There’s no love involved. Lust . . . yes. The man is a dream, I’m not going to deny that. From the way he talks with such a filthy mouth, to his strong hold, to the domineering stance of his body and how he uses it to his advantage . . . yeah, everything about him screams ‘amazing, drop everything you’re doing, ear-piercing sex.’”

“One look at him and I’d believe that. And his brothers.”

“Makes you wonder what their parents are like.”

“Ooo, imagine an older man that looks just like them. A man in his sixties, salt-and-pepper hair, slaps you on the ass when you’re naughty.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Is this some sort of fantasy you’ve never told me about?”

“Old guys can be hot too.”

“Sixties . . . that could be our dad.”

“I never judge. Love is love. Lust is lust. As long as everyone gives consent, let people live.”

“Okay.” I chuckle. “That’s fair.”

“So . . . did he finish you off?”

I bite my bottom lip and nod. “He did, and it was explosive. Kelsey, I’ve never had an O like that before. I was shaking after, and I know this is TMI, but when I went back in my room, I had to get off again because I was so geared up from having him that close, touching me, talking to me. It was too much.”

“I can imagine. I can’t remember the last time I even kissed a man, let alone have someone do that.”

Feeling slightly awkward, I say, “He sucked his fingers after.”

“Stahp!” Kelsey yells and clutches her chest. “Oh my fuck.”

“I know.” I cover my eyes. “It was easily the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. And then he grabbed me by the chin, forced me to look at him, and told me that he promised you’d get your chance to pitch the business. In that moment, when he was speaking to me, it felt as if he was the same guy I went to Chipotle with. He wasn’t an asshole, he wasn’t provoking me, he was just being normal, sincere.” Likeable. I look Kelsey in the eyes. “It confused me.”

“Confused you how . . . like you might be feeling differently about him?”

I look away. “I mean . . . maybe. But just differently in the way that maybe I don’t hate him as much. I still think he’s an asshole, and I think one wrong thing he says to me will set me off, but that gesture . . . smoothed out some of the rough edges, if that makes sense.”

“It does.” My phone beeps and I snag it from the table as Kelsey continues, “See? Maybe there’s a chance for you two. Maybe you’ll have a proper working relationship.”

“Maybe,” I say as I see a text from Huxley. “Speak of the devil. He just texted me.”

I open the message and read it.

Huxley: Are you at your sister’s?

“He wants to know if I’m here with you.” I text back.

Lottie: Yes.

He’s quick on the trigger, and the dots appear right before his text message.

Huxley: I’m sending a car to get you. What are you wearing?

Lottie: Leggings and a crop top that was provided in my approved wardrobe. Do I need to borrow something from Kelsey?

Huxley: No. See you in fifteen.

“What’s going on?” Kelsey asks.

“I have no idea. He said he’ll see me in fifteen minutes. Something with Dave and Ellie probably. I feel like if he’s going to spring these things on me, I need more context so I can prepare.”

“Agreed. Ask him what’s going on.”

I shoot him another text.

Lottie: Can I have some idea about what we’ll be doing?

Huxley: Lamaze class. Hope you’re good at breathing.

“Oh shit.”

“What?” Kelsey asks.

I look up at her. “Lamaze class.”

She snorts and covers her nose. “To be a fly on the wall.”

I take a seat in Huxley’s car and turn toward him as I buckle my seatbelt.

“What on earth—”

“Hey, baby,” Huxley says, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. “How’s your sister doing?”

Oh yeah . . . there’s someone driving us. Act like the fiancée. When in doubt, from now on, always act like the fiancée.

“She’s good,” I say in a cheery voice. “Excited about Friday.” Wanting to get some information about what the hell we’re doing, I say, “This is an unexpected surprise.”

“I know how much you like surprises,” Huxley says and then turns to his phone.

Okay, so I guess that’s that.

I’m about to say something else to him, just to keep the conversation flowing so we don’t look like a lame couple, when my phone buzzes in my hand with a text. I glance down and see Huxley’s name on the screen.

Ooo, secret communications.

Huxley: This will be your first pregnancy class. You’re going just to try it out, and then we’ll get ice cream with Ellie and Dave after.

I’m glad he’s handing out information. The more I can prepare, the better.

Lottie: Can I ask how you got us wrangled into a pregnancy class?

Huxley: Ran into Dave at the coffee shop this morning. He told me he and Ellie were going to a class. I asked him which one and said we were thinking about taking that one. He told us to join and get ice cream after.

Lottie: What class was it?