He stares at me lazily, through hooded eyes. “I want to make love to you,” he says. And I can’t deny him. This is what we should be doing. A young, happy couple in our prime. I’ll get over Joe. Now that he is no longer a faded, romantic memory but a real person, always within reach, the glow of his greatness will diminish.

“I . . . ,” I start, but he is already inside me. Still fully clothed, after tugging his sweatpants down.

I gasp in surprise, digging my fingers into his shoulders and pulling back. Dom grabs my ass and pushes me over his erection, filling my insides until I feel my lips hitting the root of him.

“Ahhhh.” I throw my head back, the pleasure too intense, too addictive.

It is good, but it is also different. The entire time we have sex, I feel disconnected. Like I’m floating, hovering, not present in the situation. It almost feels like masturbation. We both come. When Dom collapses by my side, spent and sweaty, I realize we didn’t kiss the entire time we were having sex.

He picks up a lock of my hair and twirls it around his forefinger. “Oh, I almost forgot.”

“Hmm?” I smile up at him, feeling like a china doll. Precious and fragile and incredibly empty. I can feel the echo of each of my heartbeats.

“Seph suggested we all grab lunch sometime this week. Apparently, he’s feeling bad for not giving you enough attention during Christmas.”

I forget how to breathe. Or, at the very least, do it incorrectly. I’m heaving.

“What do you think?” he asks.

Dom can’t possibly know what I’m thinking. I don’t even know what I’m thinking. Yet his shoulder tenses against mine, his whole body bracing itself for some kind of a blow.

I can’t stop thinking about your brother. I never stopped thinking about him. I hate that I do. I hate that I can never make a good choice in my life.

I lean down to catch his lower lip between my teeth, sucking it into my mouth. “He doesn’t have to do that. I’m not grilled cheese. Not everyone has to like me.”

“You are so grilled cheese, Lynne.” Dom pulls away from our kiss, looking serious and determined and . . . sad, I think? But why? “In fact, you are a perfectly glazed doughnut. Just like the one you give me every morning.”

Almost every morning. I still keep my Girlfriend Promise to him.

“So what should I tell him?” Dom eyes me curiously.

Is he catching up on things? No way. He’d say something, surely.