“No, it’s fine.” I rub my hand on the back of my neck, trying to formulate a response to the extremely heavy question. “Uh. I used to be happy. Many, many years ago. We got together when we were kids. We’ve grown and changed so much over the years. At this point, we’re practically strangers.”

Speaking those words—thoughts I’ve had plenty of times before—out loud to another person is like a ton of bricks lifted off my chest. Like I can breathe deeply, and just be me. This façade Aida and I have been keeping up for years is second nature to us now, but it’s also exhausting.

“Damn. Sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. My turn, right?” I ask, wanting to move away from the trainwreck that is my marriage.

“Yup.”

I raise my brow as I ask, “What made you ask that?”

Without missing a beat, he responds, “Happy people don’t cheat on their wives.” His tone is light, and I know he doesn’t mean it maliciously. He’s right, though.

I can’t help the awkward chuckle that leaves me. He’s so blunt. I admire that about him, even if the question stirs guilt in my gut. “For the record, that was the one and only time I’ve ever done that. Not that it makes it any better, but I’m not some serial cheater.”

Holding his hands up, he replies, “I didn’t think you were, Stone. There’s no judgment from me.”

Suddenly feeling much more awkward than I know what to do with, I clear my throat, running a hand through my hair. “Uh, you’re up.”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking over his next question, I’m sure. “Do you ever think about it? The kiss?”

My heart stutters in my chest. All the sudden I’m right back there on that street corner with him against the brick wall. Feeling my body pressed against him, his lips molded to mine. I can vividly feel his breath on my face, taste him, hear the noises he made. I’m there… in my mind, I never left.

I consider lying… but what’s the point? “All the time,” I answer honestly.

He inhales sharply, a dark gaze flying to mine. I bring the bottle to my lips, swallowing a large swig, knowing without a doubt, this is going somewhere it shouldn’t… but there isn’t a single part of me that wants to put a stop to it. I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.

Handing it to him, our fingers brush, and electric energy zips through me from his touch. “You?” I have to know.