With Every Heartbeat (Forbidden Men 4)

“No.” I captured my head with both hands and walked a little faster, needing to vent out some of the adrenaline churning through me.

Pick sat his pen down and straightened, finally lifting the rest of his face to give me his full attention. “What’s going on?”

I knew he was good for discretion, but I still didn’t mean to blurt out quite everything that vomited from my mouth. “Last night...I broke up with Cora. She was cheating on me. And then I got drunk and had sex with Zoey, like, all night long.”

Groaning, I squeezed my head harder and closed my eyes to block out the buzzing between my ears.

When I risked a glance at Pick to gauge his reaction, he was just staring at me with the blankest expression. Finally, he said, “And then you woke up, right? Because this was another one of your crazy-ass dreams. Right?”

Collapsing on his couch, I buried my face in my hands and groaned. “I wish, but no. This one wasn’t a dream.”

“Holy shit,” Pick exploded. “I mean, shit. Holy shit, man. You...” He shook his head. “I mean, we’re really talking about you doing this, right? Not Ten. You?”

I seared him with a glare and he immediately apologized. “Sorry, I just...” He held up a hand and blew out a long breath. “It’s just a shock, that’s all. Sorry about that.” He smoothed his fingers down the center of his chest as if straightening a tie he wasn’t wearing. “I’m calmer now.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not. Twenty-four hours ago, I was with one girl, settled down, completely committed in our relationship and thinking I was going to spend the rest of my life with no one but her, and then bam, a few hours later, I’m inside her roommate, and...God, I can’t even...I’m not...I don’t even know. I have no idea what to do about this.”

“Yeah,” Pick said, looking a little shell-shocked himself, which didn’t ease my nerves at all. Then he cleared his throat and shook his head. “So, um...are you sure it’s over between you and Cora?”

I sent him a sharp look, a little incredulous he even had to ask. “Yes.” There was no doubt in my voice at all. “I hate her. She killed anything and everything I ever felt for her the moment I read the texts she sent to another guy...to multiple other guys.”

“Are you sure?” Pick cocked a leery eyebrow. “I mean, about your feelings? All this just went down. You may think you hate her now, and then realize...shit. I mean, you weren’t just upset and hurt and struck out at her by sleeping with her friend... Did you?”

“What?” I surged to my feet, my face molting hot with anger. “No! God, no. I would never...not to Zoey. Not with any girl, but definitely not her.”

Pick nodded, looking relieved. “Hey, man. I was just making sure.”

I ran my hand through my hair and began to pace in a circle. “I still...I mean, she was a virgin. I was drunk. I shouldn’t have...I know I need to talk to her, but I have no idea what to say. She was gone when I woke up, and I drove to her place without thinking, except Cora was there, so I took off without talking to her, and...I just... It was her first time,” I repeated stupidly. “I know I have to apologize, but—”

“No, no, no.” Pick stood up and waved his hands, instantly nixing that idea. He came around to me. “Whatever you do, you do not apologize to a woman ever for having sex with her. Unless you freaking forced her. Shit, you didn’t force her, did you?”

I scowled. “No.”

“Okay, good. That’s good. It’s a start. We can work with that.” He paused beside me, eyeing me with a worried gaze.

Shaking my head, not comprehending, I asked, “Why can’t I apologize to her?”

“Because you just completed one of the most personal, bonding acts a woman can go through. You don’t ever want to tell her that was a mistake and you regret making that kind of connection with her.”

“But I do regret the way it happened,” I argued. “No girl’s first time should come from a drunk guy mauling her after he just found out he’d been cheated on. She’s not...she’s not some rebound lay.”

“Perfect.” Pick snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Tell her that.”

I blinked at him and waited for him to say more, but he just shrugged. “What?”

“Well, what do I say after that?”

He shrugged and then patted my shoulder sympathetically. “No idea, man. Sorry. Every situation is different. You’re going to have to wait and see how she reacts to the first part before you proceed with the rest of your conversation.”

I swallowed, feeling sick again. “Great.”

I’d be going into this blind, and I had a bad feeling that when I came out of our talk, Zoey would no longer be in my life.

Fear clutched my throat.

I began to remember every moment we’d talked before last night, how we’d been able to open up to each other and share some really personal things with complete trust. Zoey might just know more about me than any other living person on the planet. She was a confidante and a friend. The fact that I still wanted to have sex with her in every speed and position ever made was completely inconsequential. I didn’t want to lose her friendship.

Pick let me hang around his office for a couple more minutes. He talked me through a few scenarios until I felt a little better, but I was still bone-deep scared. I still wanted to see Zoey as soon as possible. And I still needed to know we could repair what I had obliterated between us. But Pick thought I should give her a day to adjust and deal with what had happened.