Page 73 of On The Edge

“I’m saying live a little. You’re getting a chance at a life and a situation most would kill for. Fuck the haters. Ignore the outside noise and the jealous comments. Own who you are. Flaunt it. You’re the girl from Texas who snagged the playboy prince of F1. Go out. Make some headlines for all the wrong reasons. In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never known you to be shy or hesitant, and this whole situation has made you that.” She shakes her head. “Reclaim that shit back.”

I start to disagree with her, but then stop myself. She’s right. This self-doubt thing isn’t me. I’m here because I made my case to Kevin and got in on the meeting. It’s why I graduated from college cum laude, working diligently and never shying away from the hard stuff. It’s how I got my job at a top equity firm when there were what felt like a million other candidates more qualified from prestigious schools.

Walking away from something is not in my nature, so why am I letting myself question that about myself now?

Was it Michael? Did I lose belief in myself somewhere along the way during our time together? The old me would have kicked him to the curb ages ago.

Why in the world did I let anyone take anything from me, let alone my confidence? What do I have to lose?

Reclaim that shit back, Maddix.

Is this all I needed to find my footing? Not my mom’s coddling but the no-nonsense facts from my best friend?

“It’s way easier said than done,” I murmur.

“What is? Being the badass you are or realizing that part of that reclamation you need to do is fucking your pretend boyfriend?”

I spit out my drink of water. It sprays all over the floor beside the table. “Tessa.” I cough the syllables out.

“What?” She bats her lashes. “I only speak the truth.”

“Truth or not, that’s not . . . that would just complicate matters.”

“The way I see it, they’re already pretty fucking complicated.” She shrugs. “Why the hell would you not? No one is talking about a deep-seated relationship here. Cruz clearly isn’t that kind of guy. Besides, you need Cruz’s expertise to help get you out of the Missionary Mike trauma.”

I burst out laughing. Can always leave it to Tessa to add some humor and honesty to every situation.

“See? I’m right.” She straightens her shoulders.

“I am neither confirming nor denying anything.”

“Look, Maddix, you’re being put through the wringer with all this public bullshit. If you have to endure it, then make it fucking worth it. And orgasms are worth it.”

“You’re forgetting one major thing though.”

“What’s that?”

“It takes two and Cruz hasn’t made a move since.”

“Then you make one. You had no problem before, right?”

“There was a lot of alcohol,” I say.

“One”—she holds her finger up—“the garage kiss. Damn thing was so simple, so hot, it turned me on. And two, you’re living together. I have no doubt he’s gotten off to thoughts of you already.”

“Um.” My cheeks pale because maybe . . . I just might have done the same. But lucky for me the connection isn’t clear enough for her to catch that.

“That’s a compliment. Take it accordingly.”

“But—”

“He’s interested. Believe me, he’s interested.”

“It will make one hell of an awkward few months with each other if he isn’t.”

“Are you forgetting the man has already seen you come? Has already been inside of you? I mean . . . at what point are you going to realize you’re past the realm of embarrassment now?”

“I have no words right now. None.” My cheeks are as pink as the paint on my toenails.