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My Paloma Blake.

Her hair is beautiful, the real color I always suspected lurked beneath the faded brown—a bright, vibrant blond in bouncy curls. But I barely recognize the rest of her. A full face of makeup, accentuating her deep brown eyes and pouty dark pink lips, which are the same dusty rose as her tank top, which puts all her golden glowing skin on display. She’s tanner, especially for the winter, and I can’t stop my eyes from dropping to the tight material pushing up her chest.

God, she’s beautiful. She’s also a goddamn walking wet dream. I don’t know why I’m surprised Rhys found her—of course he did. She is . . . everything. Good and kind and brilliant.

They’re two of the best people I’ve ever met.

Admitting they might deserve each other was my nightmare years before, when I thought she’d be only mine, forever. Now, it feels like I’m being stabbed under this table.

I smile at them both, trying to shove back the gnawing pain in my chest.

“Bennett?” Rhys asks, and I realize they’ve been talking. “You know Paloma, right?”

Know her? Sure. If by know her, he means that she is half of my soul. The tumultuous sea to my constant shore.

“Bennett is my best friend.” Rhys smiles, all glittering and golden, arm sliding gently around Paloma’s shoulders. The move is casual, gentle and effortless. Like he doesn’t have to plan it ahead, practice the movement of his arm so that it’s seamless.

Touching is easy for him. It makes me sick with envy.

“Best friend,” Paloma repeats, voice the same semi-sarcastic sound even when she doesn’t mean it. “You never mentioned him. Ever.”

Except, she isn’t reprimanding Rhys—she’s talking to me.

Her eyes are locked on mine, almost pleading, and I can’t look away. My stomach hurts, the semi-assuredness of she didn’t know warring with the more sinister sentiment of would it really matter if she did? She deserves someone better. Someone like Rhys.

“Sorry.” Rhys smirks. “He’s too handsome. And he can cook—didn’t want him to charm you away before I got a chance to.”

I laugh, almost too loud, but my eyes feel like they’re burning. Rhys turns his grin toward me, a grateful look in his eye, as if I’m playing the perfect wingman like I never have before.

Can’t you feel my heart, Rhys? You’re pulling it from my chest.

“I’m Hannah,” my date introduces herself. “Nice to meet you both.”

“You too,” Rhys says. Paloma and I still haven’t broken eye contact. “How did you two meet?”

I can feel Hannah smiling at me, but I don’t speak, the words catching on my tongue, so she tells it.

“We’re both pre-law. We had Mass Media Law together last semester and we were project partners.” Paloma huffs a breath. I look away from her. “And then we’re in another class this semester, so . . .” Hannah shrugs. “I’d been waiting for him to ask me out, but eventually I just took the initiative myself.”

Paloma blinks and rips her gaze from mine, smiling more like a predator than prey now.

“Way to go,” she offers, before reaching for one of the empty glasses and the large jar of water. She’s barely touched it before Rhys bats her hand away and pours it for her. “Almost meant to be, huh?”

“What about you?” Hannah asks, biting lightly on her lip. She’s beautiful, dressed tonight in a floral dress and cardigan, auburn hair swept up into a ribbon-bound ponytail. “What’s your major?”

“I’m undecided.” Paloma takes a distracted gulp of water.

“Let’s make a deal, then,” she whispers, words soft against my heated, sticky skin. “I fill out my declaration as sports management. You fill yours out for poetry.”

I smile and shake my head. “That’s not a major.”

“Okay, then creative writing. Or literature. And then you can take all the poetry classes and have it as your minor.” Her laugh is intoxicating, as is the feel of her when she collapses back on my chest, the burst of post-sex energy she usually displays finally giving out. “I’ll make it mine, too, so we can take the classes together.”

“Yeah?” I ask, heart thumping beneath her ear. I brush a hand through her hair gently.

“Yeah. I don’t want you swapping poems with anyone else.”

Another huff of a laugh, before I pull my head up off the pillow to kiss her head and pull her closer. “Never. Those are only for you.”