“No shit,” I replied. “But I didn’t. I was so embarrassed and . . . yeah, my feelings were hurt, so I left his place and just so much time passed, and I was still all butt sore about it that I never cleared it up.”

Katie finished off the sausage and then moved onto the smaller links. “And Reece has this thing with lying? That’s not good.”

I pinned her with a bland look.

She leaned forward, waving the link around like a wand. “Look, I totally get why you haven’t said anything. It’s like telling one little lie and then telling another little lie to cover that one and so on. Then it all builds up. I get that. A lot of time has passed and how would you explain what really happened? Hey Reece, would you like to play with my tits? Oh, by the way, we never had sex.”

Calla almost choked again. “That . . . that sounds like an awkward conversation.”

I sighed as I pushed my plate away from me. “I do feel terrible. I wish I’d pulled my head out of my ass long enough to give him a chance to explain why he reacted that way, and I wish I’d just told him the truth.”

“He ain’t completely innocent in all of this,” Katie argued. “Remember, he was so drunk he thought he had sex. I’ve drunk a lot in my day. A lot. Like so much, I’m pretty sure I’ve turned into a brewery, but I’ve never been so drunk that I didn’t know if I had sex.”

Calla nodded as she poked at her scrambled eggs. “True.”

Neither had I ever drunk that much, but that was beside the point. Taking a sip of my soda, my shoulders sank as the weight of the situation settled on them. I straightened my glasses as I sighed. “I . . . I really like him, guys. I really do.”

“Duh.” Katie rolled her eyes. “You’re in love with him.”

I ignored that comment, because love . . . love was a scary four-­letter word. “He’s a good guy, a really good guy. And you remember the last dude I kind of seriously dated?” I asked Katie.

She wrinkled her nose. “Before Dean the ginger?”

“Oh my God,” Calla murmured, stifling her giggle with the back of her hand.

I shook my head and then took a drink. “Yes. Remember Donnie, the—­”

“The really nice guy who took you to the Eagles game and you totally got with in the parking garage, but turned out to be married?” Katie supplied happily.

My lips pressed together. “No. That was Ryan the fucker and thanks for reminding me about him. He also had a kid he never told me about. I was talking about Donnie the starving artist who stole my jewelry my grammy left me.”

Calla blinked several times. “Wow. A married guy and a thief?”