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Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’m no less willing to make it happen. That desire, the thrill I felt when Will chased me, hasn’t gone away. It’s only grown stronger the longer I spend time with them.

Even in the kitchen, we move around one another as though we’ve been living together our whole lives.

Emerson swerves here, I grab there, and Will falls somewhere in between. We were made for each other; I know that much.

My heart has never felt so full, like the tiniest pinprick could have it exploding in my chest, into my soul.

I get about ten minutes into the movie when my phone goes off with a text message. I press pause on the TV and grab the device from the coffee table in front of me.

It’s Stella. I let out a breath as my body relaxes.

I still get rather jumpy when a message comes through. I guess I’m just waiting for the inevitable moment when my mother messages me with her next round of manipulation.

Stella: Hey girl. You okay?

Me: I’m feeling better now. You seeing Carter tonight?

Distract her with her obsession with Carter. Great idea.

I’m not ready to unpack everything just yet. Would she judge me for what I want? She never judged when she found out I was with both Em and Will.

I’m not surprised she’s messaging to check up on me, though. Even at work today I was distracted; I mixed up two orders and dropped a bowl full of spaghetti all over myself.

I blame Will. He’s the one who chased me around the house a week ago, and now I can’t seem to be able to focus on anything else.

Stella: Maybe.

Me: Will you be showing off your new lingerie at this “maybe” meetup?

Stella: Also maybe.

I can’t help the smile on my face as I shake my head and type out a message back.

Me: Carter will need CPR when he sees you in it. Lucky he’s a professional athlete and his heart can handle it.

Stella: Oh My God! I hate you.

Me: Sure you do. Have fun being sexy.

I’m so happy for my friend. Carter is a great guy, his personality unaffected by his career—a lot like Emerson in that respect.

I had this inclination to believe that professional athletes are dicks, but Emerson and Carter have shown me that’s not at all the case.

Cooper, on the other hand, is just a dick in general—Emerson told me he’s been vying for his position since he moved to the club, which makes a lot of sense considering he tried to have Emerson benched for sleeping with me.

When the money I won showed up in my bank account yesterday morning, I cried for about half an hour. After everything I did to Em, he still went all in for me, risking his career so that I could get closer to my dream.

If that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.

Although, we’re yet to say such things out loud. If the boys feel the same about me, I’m unaware.

I just know my feelings are intense and overwhelming and crazy, and they make me feel like I did when I ate a whole packet of fairy floss at a carnival when I was twelve, then continued to go on the scariest ride I could find, only to stumble off it at the end and puke all over my dad.

Yeah, that happened.

Dropping my phone onto the cushion, I jump from the couch when the front door swings open and Will strolls in, his iPad in one hand, a grocery bag in the other.

Just the sight of him in his white T-shirt and black shorts has my heart racing, and my palms growing sweaty.