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The thing is, my sex drought has nothing to do with access. If I wanted, I could have my choice of ladies, no strings. My focus has been elsewhere. Like, all work and zero play. And now, it seems, that mindset has caught up with me. The heat-seeking missile in my pants is aimed at Sophia, whether I like it or not.

“First, no.” I point to them and lie through my teeth. They don’t need to know I want Sophia, or that one arm’s muscles might be larger than the other’s, just from whacking off while thinking of her.

“And second, you don’t have to worry. I’m focused. Everything will be different from here on,” I say before I push away from the table to stand.

But really, I’m running away from the truth.

16/

sophia

Don’t Eat Too Fast, You’ll Choke

As my gaze pings between the digital clock that reads 8:59 a.m. and the front door, three figures appear on the other side of the frosted glass. A massive silhouette checks his phone before ringing the doorbell when the clock flips to nine.

My body solidifies like a statue. This is really happening.

“You going to answer it?” Amelia asks from the couch where she’s reading a romantasy novel.

She was leaning Team Gio until she found out we’d have to share a house with him and his gang of strangers. She would have been happier with the goats.

She would have been happier with Barry.

When the doorbell rings again, she groans, tosses her book on the coffee table, and strides to the door.

“Someone needs to pull off this Band-Aid.” She glares at me.

“You are the mistress of pain.” I try for comedy, but she shoots me an irritated look.

Unable to make time stop, I watch in horror as Amelia opens the door. Immediately, it’s glaringly obvious I’ve made the wrong decision. Last night was a moment of nice-girl weakness, and I blame Gio and his charming grin . . . his muscles . . . his sad eyes, and those heart-pumping kisses. I touch my lips, still raw.

Dumb coconut cookies. These are the consequences of my actions.

So now, because of him, I reverted to my old ways and became the opposite of a palm tree. You know what I became? A sad Christmas tree after New Year’s. A weak, bent-over branch, failing to hold up one pathetic ornament.

In the foyer, Amelia greets our new roommates. One at a time, they step inside tugging suitcases, most of which appear to contain professional equipment.

Gio introduces Matt and Casey to Amelia. As the three chat, he abandons them and ventures closer, like one move might send me running. Somehow, he’s in tune to my what-the-heck-did-I-do mood.

“Good morning, Sparkles.” He holds out a package.

“What’s this?” I place my mug of tea aside to study the box.

“A peace offering,” he says.

I instantly become suspicious.

Warning, warning! Gio’s being nice. Prepare for war!

I carefully lift the top, expecting white powder to explode in my face. Instead, I’m shocked to find six cupcakes decorated with beautiful icing, sprinkles, and candies.

“Wow, these are⁠—”

“Mine.” Amelia grabs the box and chooses a purple one before handing it back. One bite is all it takes for her to swoon, arms raised, feet dancing while circling the room.

“Soph, you gotta taste these. They’re incredible.” She licks her fingers and returns for a second.

“Your turn.” Gio smirks.