Rain droplets on her eyelashes. Her nails scraping down my chest. Kissing like we’d never stop.

He reared back. “You made out with Tabitha Tyler in the rain, in public?”

“Trust me. I fucking know.” A week ago I was so eager to avoid any kind of spotlight I didn’t even want to work on the abandoned lot, let alone take the lead. Or risk some angry former fan seeing me do anything out in public.

“And then what?” Rowan asked, looking captivated.

Steamed-up windows. Our heavy breathing. Her gorgeous body…soft curves, delicate tattoos, pale skin. I clamped down on the images before I zoned out, lost in memories of a night where I was powerful again, where my body and its needs were admired, returned, yearned for. Where I wasn’t a disappointment but a man who’d listened to his instincts and watched, in awe, as Tabitha climaxed over and over.

“That’s when we had sex. In the back seat of the truck.”

Rowan scrubbed a hand down his face and shook his head. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, dude. So that’s why you can’t pack these carrots.”

“I’m a little…distracted.”

He twisted his mug back and forth on the table. “I’m happy you’re having some no-strings-attached fun. You deserve it.” He grinned, looking no different than when we were kids. “I guess all of my grandmother’s text messages were accurate after all.”

Tension rippled between my shoulder blades. The words no strings were correct, and Tabitha told me she never got attached. So I unclenched my jaw and said, “Yeah. I guess they were.”

“And you two are good with everything?” he asked.

I knew what he meant. “Yeah,” I hedged. “Yeah, we’re good.”

I didn’t know what the hell we were. It wasn’t like we’d done a lot of talking about it. I was so obviously in over my head, but no part of me could go back now. No part of me wanted to.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out. Harry was calling. I silenced it and tossed it on the table.

“Was it Harry?”

I nodded, avoided looking directly at him. Of everyone’s mixed reactions at family dinner when I told them about becoming a commentator, Rowan’s had been cagey. And he wasn’t that kind of guy.

“We talked yesterday but he’s been calling nonstop. Checking in.”

“Trying to convince you,” Rowan said.

I exhaled through my nose. “Harry set a meeting with one of the show producers five days from now uptown at a restaurant. He’s flying through Philly for work and said he wanted to meet me in person.”

“That’s a promising sign if you’re gonna take it.”

I lifted a shoulder. “It could be an honest-to-god comeback for me, Rowan. A way to fix my reputation.”