“Shit. Yes. Keep coming. Almost…”

I grabbed her hips, thrust her down onto my dick while she screamed my name and yes and shit and called out to God and then I came, matching her cries with my guttural groans.

She collapsed onto me, hair in my face and her breath at my neck, and I wrapped my arms around her, cupped the back of her head with one hand, and ran my other up and down her back. “Never… never feel like you have to hide an inch of your body from me. Ever again. I like everything I see.”

And that was the first lie I might have said to her.

Because like wasn’t the word I’d wanted to say at all.

“What’s up, old man?”

Max laughed through the phone, hearty and happy, like always. “Fuck off. We’ve had this talk. Nice to see you’re still an asshole, but I’m pissed off at you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You went and got fucking married and didn’t invite me? I’m hurt, brother.”

There was Max’s general teasing in his tone, but beneath it, sadness.

“Shit. Fuck, Max, I’m so sorry. It happened so fast, and it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not…” I cleared my throat, because after last night and this morning, saying my marriage wasn’t real felt like another lie. “It’s a long story. I swear I’ll tell you, but—”

“You finally over Ava then?”

God. No. It wasn’t that, but I was pulling into the practice arena and running late. After we calmed down, I dragged Emmersyn into the shower with me, where she shook her head, told me no way in hell we were having shower sex—it wasn’t her thing—and we cleaned up. By the time I fed us breakfast, omelets for both of us, and my protein shake, I was behind schedule.

And yet, as Max’s question registered, I didn’t have the general punch of rage I usually had when she was brought up, when I was asked about her. Max was one of the few guys who would ever bring her up to me before. The only one with enough guts to risk a right hook to his jaw.

“It’s complicated,” I told him. “But getting there. I think?”

“Well fuck, if you’re married, you better be over her.”

Shit. I pulled into my spot in the team’s parking garage and climbed out of my car. I’d left the Range Rover for Emmersyn, even though she didn’t need to go anywhere, and closed the door to my Aston Martin.

“I can’t talk about it right now, Max. I’m late for practice, but we’ll get caught up. I can call you later.”

“Sure, sure. I retire, and now I’m just that old guy…”

“Max. That’s not it and fuck you for not being at our game the other night, too, by the way.”

“Not ready.” He cleared his throat, and now I was the asshole. “Sorry, man. Kimmy asked if we could go, but I’m just… I need more time.”