“Bullshit. Let’s hear it. And don’t fucking lie. I’ve known you longer than you’ve known your own brother.”

“My brother’s a little bitch,” I grit, pulling the full glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of me to my nose. Its earthy spice stings my eyes and calms my nerves.

I glance up at Winter at the other end of the bar, dancing with her arms wrapped around Sondra’s neck. She looks happy—she’s so fucking beautiful when she’s happy.

When she fell asleep in my arms, she was happy, peaceful even. Her eyes were full and glittering with lust and interest that night. She hung off every word I said, and I can’t lie, it felt good knowing how engrossed in me she was.

That feeling usually makes me feel boxed in. That feeling is typically why I don’t stay after I fuck. I can’t stand the intimacy, and I have no interest in becoming someone’s everything. The thought alone makes me want to walk backward at least twenty feet.

But I don’t feel that way with Winter. With Winter, I want more. I had it, somehow I’ve lost it, and now I want it back.

Dottie hugs up next to the girls, and the three of them laugh about something Sondra said. I look past Preston and see Keith talking to a man who’s currently so red-cheeked at something Keith has said, he’s almost neon. If I wasn’t in such a piss mood, I’d be happy for him. Keith seems like a really good guy. A guy who wants to see Winter happy.

“Alright…” I throw back the rest of the whiskey in my glass, then slide it across the bar. “You cannot tell Sondra because girls have no fucking code. You tell her, and I won’t be able to run fast enough before she spills the beans to Winter.”

The corner of Preston’s mouth hitches into a smirk. “You slept with her. You’re sleeping with her. Like, more than once. I know.”

My eyes narrow. “How?” The music pulses through my body, agitating me further. I fucking loathe club music.

“Well…” He takes a slow sip from his red wine. “Everyone knows.”

Holding my apprehensive stare, I lean my hip against the bar and cross my arms over my chest. “Again, how?”

“We all laughed about it at dinner the other night. It was so damn obvious. You two bickering at the table like an old married couple. And when you two came back from the bathroom, she waltzed up to the table with a victorious smile and you, you dumb shit, came back with the most moronic, sated grin. Phone call from your dad, my ass.” He scoffs. “You’re a terrible liar, Aleck.”

Well, fuck me sideways, they all knew. Sorry, Baby Bulldog, guess I’m not your dirty little secret anymore.

“I’m an excellent liar, Asshole. I’m a goddamn lawyer.”

“Well, you’re a shit liar when it comes to her.”

I guess even I can’t hide the euphoria of having received a Winter Sommers blowjob.