My heart lurched. “Whatever you want us to be.”

“Easy. Uncomplicated. Casual. No strings, no expectations.”

“I can do all those things.”

“It’s just that I haven’t been single in a long time,” she continued, her nerves plain and bare despite her efforts to keep them tamped down. “A few weeks ago, I lived with a man. Technically, I sort of still do—I still have a few pieces of furniture there. I don’t have my own place, and I’m not even sure how I feel about relationships, never mind—”

“I can do all those things,” I repeated a little slower. “You don’t need to explain.”

She relaxed in my arms. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” I said and meant it.

This was my specialty—providing a diversion. I’d trained my whole adult life for this. I could be Lila’s soft place to land after falling like she had. I could catch her, give her comfort.

I ignored the fleeting thought that I could give her more, if she wanted it. But the truth rang eternal—I knew what things were and what they weren’t. I knew that in this scenario, I could be the one to get hurt if I found myself dumb enough to get my feelings involved. So I’d enjoy Lila when I had her, and I’d let the rest go, for her sake and for my own.

I’d take what I could get.

And I’d keep on pretending it would be enough.

LILA

I kissed him goodbye one final time before he nudged me out the door of Longbourne, his hair perfectly ruffled and his lips swollen from kisses.

As I walked away, I checked my phone, realizing it’d been hours of kisses. I felt like I’d blacked out and lost time, unable to parse the passage of time and the state of my person—disheveled, untwisted, loose and lighter than I’d been in a week. A year. More maybe.

Kash had erased my brain like a whiteboard. I could barely remember what I’d been so consumed with a few short hours ago. God, old me was uptight. Past Lila was a drag, and new, improved Lila was bold and wise and happy.

Happy.

After the last few weeks, the sensation shocked me. Intoxicated me. The old adage was right—the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else. Preferably someone hotter, with a substantial ass and a smile that turned my ovaries into a toaster oven, who treated me like his sole purpose in life was to give me orgasms. Piles and mounds and dump trucks full of orgasms and kisses and smiles and touching of all the skin, all the muscles.

All the Kash.