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Jack points at me.

“I’m not joking. Soul Girl has been bricking it all day that you were gone for good, but I knew you had too much spunk in you for that. Literally.” He gestures to the empty spot on the sofa beside me. “Take a seat, relax, snuggle up and give her some heartfelt reassurance. I’m calling time out on the therapy session. No wonder therapists cost a fortune. It’s hard fucking work, and I’m definitely not cut out for it.”

Bryce’s energy turns a full one-eighty as he takes a seat beside me. His shoulders are tense and upright, as though he’s suddenly got a broom straight up his ass.

“Therapy session? What do you mean therapy session?” His eyes are so serious. “Alice, has something happened? What’s going on?”

Bloody hell, I could give Jack the middle finger for opening his big mouth.

“We were just talking,” I tell Bryce. “A lot. About things in the past. About how I, um.” I drop my eyes from his. “I didn’t think you’d be back, that’s all. Some things came out.”

“What things?”

“Kudos to you for having a pair of bollocks, Bryce,” Jack interrupts. “With a life like yours, I’m happy you managed to keep hold of them.” He raises his eyebrows. Licks his lips. “Very happy.”

Bryce is as stiff as a cardboard cutout. His eyes harden as he looks at Jack.

“What do you mean, with a life like mine? What are you talking about?”

Jack shrugs. “Being a puppy dog assistant to Alice’s loaded daddy. No wonder you bailed. You must have been shitting yourself. Especially straight after a divorce from a rebound bitch from hell.”

Jack laughs, and I know he’s testing. Pushing.

I’m so embarrassed my cheeks burn. I could knee him in the fucking nuts as Bryce tenses up even more.

“I don’t need your life evaluation, thank you very much. And you’re right. Therapy isn’t your bag. Stick to sex and gambling.”

“Oh, I will do. And you’ll come along for the ride if you have any sense. Chill out. Live a little.”

I can’t stop myself reaching out and squeezing Bryce’s knee.

“He’s messing around, that’s all.”

“I know full well he is, but I’m not.”

Jack stares down at the pair of us.

“Holy crap, you two. I thought this was going to be a horny, lovestruck fuck fest, not a pair of prickly porcupines trying to navigate their mental health issues. Chill the hell out, will you?”

“There’s only one prickly porcupine here,” I say, weirdly defensive.

Bryce’s eyes lock onto mine.

“I’m not being prickly, Alice. I’m just being realistic. Life isn’t all about fun, fucking and frolics, you know?”

“No,” Jack says, commandeering his attention. “I don’t know. Fun, fucking and frolics suit me just fine.”

It’s a standoff. Both of them staring at each other. Jack still has his swagger on, and Bryce is rigid as hell. He shifts in his seat, brushing imaginary fluff off his trousers.

Now it’s hanging in the air, I can feel it. Sense it. The phrase I shouldn’t be here, suddenly back on Bryce’s tongue. And maybe he shouldn’t be, but he is, and that’s all that matters.

Fuck this shit. Now he’s walked back in through the door, I’m not going to risk watching him leave again after some childish poking from the grand master.

“Quit it, jackass,” I say to Jack, and then I reach for the cardboard cutout beside me. I pull on Bryce’s rigid arm and move towards him. I’m all in, double or nothing, so I take the risk and land my lips on his, letting my robe fall open to reveal that I’m naked underneath.

Please.

I take Bryce’s hands and hold them to my tits, sweeping my tongue across his lips until his shoulders loosen up and he finally breathes into me.