“No, we’re not.” I frowned. Were we? “No.”

“Okay, do I need to list how often you guys are together?” Jacob raised his brows. “I think it would be safe to assume that you knew about his plans and the size of his cock by now.”

“Oh my God.” I dropped my face into my hands.

Brit giggled. “You’re making Avery blush.”

He was.

Jacob snickered. “I think you’re having a closet relationship with him.”

“What?” Lifting my head, I stared at him. “I am not having a closet relationship with him. Trust me, he’s asked me—” I cut myself off. “We’re not.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Jacob practically fell over. “He’s asked you what?”

“Nothing.” I sat back, crossing my arms. “He hasn’t asked me anything.”

Jacob looked at Brit. “Is it just me or is she just not that smooth to pull off a lie?”

“Not that smooth,” Brit commented, twisting toward me. “What has he asked you?”

“Nothing!”

“Bull poop!” She punched me in the arm. “You’re lying!”

“Ouch! I—”

Jacob shook his head, looking like he was seconds from falling on the floor. “We are your friends. It is the law of friendship that you tell us things you don’t want to tell us.”

My mouth dropped open. “What? That makes no sense.”

“It is the law.” Brittany nodded solemnly.

“What has he asked you?” Jacob persisted. “Did he ask to eat more of his cookies? Did he ask you to be his baby mama? How about marry him? Or to just warm his bed every morning, afternoon, and evening? Did he—?”

“Oh my God!” There was no way out of this. I knew Jacob. He’d just keep going until the whole Den thought I was getting married and having baby. “Okay. I’ll tell you if you promise not to freak out and scream.”

Jacob made a face. “Ah, I don’t know.”

“He promises!” Brit shot him a glare. “Or I will physically maim him.”

He nodded. “I promise.”

I exhaled harshly. “Okay. It’s not a big deal. Let’s get that established first. Everyone understand? Good. Alright, so Cam has kind of been asking me out—”

“What?” Jacob screeched, and several heads turned.

My shoulders slumped. “You promised.”

“Sorry.” He crossed his heart. “I just… wow. Got excited.”

“I can tell,” I said wryly.

Brit’s hands were clasped in front of her chest. “He’s been asking you out, like in the plural sense?”

I nodded. “Yeah, but I’ve said no each and every time.”

“You’ve said no?” he shouted, and I shot up and smacked his arm. He gave me a bright smile. “Sorry. Sorry. Don’t hit. Bitches be scary when they hit.”

Sitting back down, I eyed him. “Yes. I’ve said no.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“And he keeps asking?” asked Brit at the same time.

“Yes, he keeps asking, but it’s like a… running joke between us. He’s not serious.”

Brit tugged at her hair like I was stressing her out or something. “How do you know he’s not being serious?”