Grant raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Why are you defending her?”

“Because I love her, and I love you two together. You think I want to feel this way about you—lusting after my friend’s man? Hell no! Robin is family to me, and she’s the most amazing woman you’ll ever find. We’re both lucky to have her in our lives, so don’t go screwing that up.”

“I think we already did.”

I shook my head, backing into the arm of the sofa. “No, it’s not too late to fix it. I was lonely and you filled the hole in my heart. But it’s over; we can pretend it never happened. So go back to your wife and woo the shit out of her, okay?”

I wanted Grant, but I wanted Robin more. Grant would be a fleeting mistake that washed in and out of my life. Robin was my rock, and if our friendship crumbled, I had nothing left to stand on but sinking sand. And yet as Grant shifted across the sofa toward me, he smelled so damn good right now . . .

My emotions were all over the place—desire, guilt, push, pull, push, pull.

“I’ve tried, God knows I’ve tried. We always end up getting interrupted with the kids, or Robin’s too tired from the baby being up all night. There’s always something.”

I rolled my eyes. “Man up and masturbate like the rest of us. But don’t throw your life away for an easy fuck. As your friend, I’m telling you that you have a good thing—a great thing—with Robin. Leaving her will kill her—and you. And your kids. You think about that before you go proposing to the next loose puttana you meet.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “So now you’re a puttana?”

“If the shoe fits . . .” I’d been called worse, and I didn’t care. I knew who I was and where I came from, and I accepted myself, flaws and all. They gave me character, as Papa always told me. All that was left was figuring out where I was going.

“So your sage advice is I’m supposed to be resigned to misery?”

I groaned. This man was insufferable. “Don’t you think you’re acting a little melodramatic? It’s Robin—she’d do anything for you.”

“Anything? She doesn’t touch me, Lil. We haven’t had sex in over eight months! A man has needs . . . and at the rate I’m masturbating, I’ll have carpal tunnel any day now!”