Tense silence fills the air. She finally pushes my chest again and says, "Practice is over. Get off me."

Groaning, I obey, stating, "Sex is sex, Sunshine. It's two people getting each other off. You shouldn't complicate a basic human need. Maybe you're just too young and naive to realize this."

She scoffs. "Gosh, you're sad."

Irritated, I question, "Sad?"

She tugs the covers over her and turns away from me. She mumbles, "You do you, Sebastian, and I'll do me."

"Don't get offended," I offer.

"Goodnight, Sebastian. Stay on your side of the bed," she firmly directs.

I sigh, pissed.

We were doing so well.

Am I the only one who felt the fireworks in our kisses?

No way. She did too.

Then why is she acting like a prude?

It's going to be harder than I thought to get into her pants.

Why did I choose to spend a month with a woman who believes in fairy tales?

My raging hard-on doesn't go away. I've never had a woman turn me down before. Usually, they'll let me get in their pants as soon as I try. It's all part of keeping me happy to get their claws in me.

Why doesn't Georgia play the usual game and dig hers into me?

She doesn't have to. She already gets a million dollars.

A hundred thousand. She's definitely not getting a million.

Is she lying or telling the truth that she's only had sex with someone she thought she loved?

The questions spinning in my mind are endless. Her sugary-rose scent never stops taunting me. I debate about spooning her round ass but decide against it. My cock is tormented enough.

I finally fall asleep around three in the morning, only to wake up at four. I finally give up and sneak into the closet. I grab shorts and a T-shirt, socks, and sneakers. I quietly slip out of the room and go into the gym.

I'm surprised to see Alexander there, although I shouldn't be. Ever since his wife died, he hasn't slept well either. Anytime I come home, he's usually covered in sweat by the time I step foot into the room.

He pushes the stop button on the treadmill and jumps off it. He takes a towel, wipes his face, then downs some water. He asks, "Can't sleep?"

I shrug. "Story of my life."

"Is Georgia still mad at you?"

I grunt. "Don't get me started."

He warns, "Better fix that before she changes her mind."

"What does that mean?" I snap.

He holds his hands in the air. "Bro, chill. I just meant I like her. She seems good for you."

I relax a bit. "How's that?"

"Lots of reasons. The first being that she doesn't kiss your ass. She challenges you," he asserts.

"Her challenges are getting under my skin," I mumble, then step on the treadmill and punch the settings.

He chuckles.

"Why are you laughing?" I ask.