“Baby, that memory lives rent-free in my brain forever. As well as the way you tasted.”

She turns to her plate, carves out a piece of the mousse, and brings it to my mouth. I open and she feeds me. My lips pull over the spoon right before she takes it away.

“I always loved your mouth,” she confesses. “I love your smile, your teeth, and your tongue. The tiny scars above your lip where you were clipped with a cleat by that guy sliding into third.” She smooths her finger over my lips, and I open and nibble her finger, causing her to laugh.

Then it’s my turn to feed her, so I scoop up some of the chocolate and place the spoon in front of her mouth. Keeping her eyes on mine, she opens and allows the spoon to slide over her tongue in the most seductive way I’ve ever seen. When she releases the spoon, she licks her lips and whispers, “So good,” in a tone I’ve only heard in the bedroom.

“You two are making me hot,” Lottie says from across the table. She then turns to Huxley and says, “Can we leave?”

He doesn’t answer. All he does is stand and offer a wave to the table before gripping Lottie’s hand tightly and walking off with her.

“We’re going to take off too,” JP says, holding Kelsey’s hand. “Thanks, everyone, for coming.”

And they’re gone.

One by one, people get up and leave until Myla and I are the only ones left.

“They didn’t even finish their dessert,” she says as she feeds me another spoonful.

“Fools,” I answer as Myla pours us another glass of wine, this one red. She hands me the glass and then holds hers up.

“To new beginnings,” she says and then clinks my glass. Either I don’t care or I’m drunk, but her toast does nothing for me, so I raise my glass.

“That toast was shit.”

“Think you can do better?” she asks.

I nod. “Yup, cheers to the night when you played with my balls until I came.”

She laughs. “Ooo, that was a good night.” We both take a sip. “Or what about the time you let me spank you?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t like that.”

She laughs. “You’re such a goddamn liar.”

I place my finger against my mouth and shush her. “Don’t tell anyone. Remember, that’s a secret.”

“Oh, right,” she whispers. “Your dick was so hard that night.”

“Because you were also wearing one of those demi bras I love so much.”

“It was red and see-through, I remember. A Valentine’s Day present.”

“Best Valentine’s Day of my life.” I finish off my wine and then lean back in my chair. “Fuck, I think I’m drunk.”

“Me too.” She sways. “Want to walk it off with me?”

“Yeah, I do,” I say and then stand. I reach out my hand, and she takes it.

“You know, no one is here. You don’t have to hold my hand,” she says.