Under other circumstances, the fact that he’s paid any attention to my love life would send a stupid thrill through me. But I know where he’s going with this, and it eradicates any excitement.

“None of your business.”

He crosses his arms. “Felt like my business a minute ago.”

I snort. He waits. Silence drags until I crack, caving like a poorly stacked house of cards.

“We were together for ten months, if you want to get super specific.”

“Ten months. And you never…”

“Nope.” I pop the P for emphasis.

“Jesus. Was he gay?”

I scoff. “No. He was a gentleman. I think he’s dating a chef from Cambridge now. She owns her own restaurant.”

Seeing that photo proudly posted on social media didn’t bother me half as much as the waitress flirting with Gray did.

“So, he could get it up?”

“Get. Out.”

“I hope you—”

“The only thing I’m hoping for is that this is the last time I see you until you ship back out to the middle of fucking nowhere,” I snap.

“Felt more like you were hoping I’d be the first one to fuck you when you were dripping on my fingers.”

I flush, both from anger and the crude description. He has a dirty mouth, and if I said I hated it, I’d be a liar. “Unless you want Noah to know exactly how you know that, you’ll never mention this again.”

Unease flickers on his face at the threat, and I almost take it back. Grayson Phillips might not care about much in this world, but he values his friendship with my brother. He knows how protective Noah is of me. And if we want to get technical, I kissed him first and have no business blackmailing him. But embarrassment and lust make people say stupid things, and I’m flooded with plenty of both at the moment.

“Now, get out.”

He leaves without another word.

I place my hands on either side of the porcelain sink and stare at myself in the mirror, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself.

He kissed me.

Touched me.

I’d dreamed of that happening for years. Disappointment is winning out over other emotions. Because for seconds—a thrilling, uncountable number of them—I thought it might actually happen. That we might actually happen.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, I chastise myself.

It’d never happened before; why would it happen now? It’s unhealthy, ridiculous, and futile, allowing Gray to have this much of an effect on me. But if I knew how to turn it off, I would have years ago. And if his rejection isn’t enough to curb my attraction for good, I don’t know what will.