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“Yep.”

“I overheard her talking about you,” he confesses.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, pretending to look interested.

“Yup. She wants to bang your brains out.”

Wonderful.

“You should go over there. She’s smoking.”

He’s not wrong. She is hot. If I were looking for a blonde in a red dress, that is.

I’ve been with women. I’ve had some great times with some more than willing puck bunnies over the years. But…every time, I feel like something is missing.

A penis. A penis is what’s missing.

When I’m with a guy, I don’t get that feeling.

I’ve tried to ignore it—it would be easier if I could. But it’s always there, nagging at me, taunting me.

While I might find women attractive, ultimately, I want a guy.

No, not just a guy. I want Garrett.

I haven’t taken a single bit of interest in anyone else since New Year’s Eve.

Okay, so that’s not entirely true. There is the guy I’ve been messaging online. But that’s just a bit of fun. There’s a very good chance that I’ll never get to know him well enough to trust him to meet in person, and eventually, he’ll get bored and disappear. It’s happened plenty of times before.

The dirty talk and the filthy photos and videos are only enough for so long.

Hell, he’s already admitted to hooking up with others, so maybe he’s getting bored already.

His messages have slowed down recently. And I can’t even complain. I’ve been too distracted with Garrett to really pay my mystery guy all that much attention.

Having someone in real life is way more satisfying than someone who may or may not be who they say they are on the internet.

But ultimately, Garrett will end up getting fed up with me, too. Even a friends-with-benefits relationship with me still has to be lived in the shadows. And though that’ll be okay for a while, it’ll get old fast when we can’t go out or do anything together.

Eventually, he’ll resent me and the secret I force him to keep, and that’ll be the end of it. Assuming it gets that far, of course.

“I’m good, thanks,” I say after too long of a pause.

“Are you fucking crazy? She’s got to be the hottest woman up here, and she’s got eyes for you.”

I quirk a brow at him. “What about your cheerleader?”

“Oh, obviously she’s not hotter than her.”

“Obviously,” I deadpan.

“Oh shit, she’s coming back,” Rovvy says, hopping to his feet. “Go talk to the woman. You deserve to get laid after the night you’ve had.”

Yeah, I fucking well do.

It’s just a shame that the man I want to be fucking is a couple of thousand miles away right now.

Rovvy moves across the room, dragging his cheerleader onto the dance floor, but I’m not left alone for long because the others descend on me, obviously deciding that I’m not allowed to sit alone looking miserable tonight.