With Every Heartbeat (Forbidden Men #4)(93)

“What?” I surged to my feet, my face molting hot with anger. “No! God, no. I would never...not to Zoey. Not with any girl, but definitely not her.”

Pick nodded, looking relieved. “Hey, man. I was just making sure.”

I ran my hand through my hair and began to pace in a circle. “I still...I mean, she was a virgin. I was drunk. I shouldn’t have...I know I need to talk to her, but I have no idea what to say. She was gone when I woke up, and I drove to her place without thinking, except Cora was there, so I took off without talking to her, and...I just... It was her first time,” I repeated stupidly. “I know I have to apologize, but—”

“No, no, no.” Pick stood up and waved his hands, instantly nixing that idea. He came around to me. “Whatever you do, you do not apologize to a woman ever for having sex with her. Unless you freaking forced her. Shit, you didn’t force her, did you?”

I scowled. “No.”

“Okay, good. That’s good. It’s a start. We can work with that.” He paused beside me, eyeing me with a worried gaze.

Shaking my head, not comprehending, I asked, “Why can’t I apologize to her?”

“Because you just completed one of the most personal, bonding acts a woman can go through. You don’t ever want to tell her that was a mistake and you regret making that kind of connection with her.”

“But I do regret the way it happened,” I argued. “No girl’s first time should come from a drunk guy mauling her after he just found out he’d been cheated on. She’s not...she’s not some rebound lay.”

“Perfect.” Pick snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Tell her that.”

I blinked at him and waited for him to say more, but he just shrugged. “What?”

“Well, what do I say after that?”

He shrugged and then patted my shoulder sympathetically. “No idea, man. Sorry. Every situation is different. You’re going to have to wait and see how she reacts to the first part before you proceed with the rest of your conversation.”

I swallowed, feeling sick again. “Great.”

I’d be going into this blind, and I had a bad feeling that when I came out of our talk, Zoey would no longer be in my life.

Fear clutched my throat.

I began to remember every moment we’d talked before last night, how we’d been able to open up to each other and share some really personal things with complete trust. Zoey might just know more about me than any other living person on the planet. She was a confidante and a friend. The fact that I still wanted to have sex with her in every speed and position ever made was completely inconsequential. I didn’t want to lose her friendship.



Pick let me hang around his office for a couple more minutes. He talked me through a few scenarios until I felt a little better, but I was still bone-deep scared. I still wanted to see Zoey as soon as possible. And I still needed to know we could repair what I had obliterated between us. But Pick thought I should give her a day to adjust and deal with what had happened.

He reminded me that she probably felt as if she’d betrayed Cora and might not want to see me just yet, because my presence would only heighten her guilt. Knowing she was going through that made me feel worse, but I decided to follow his advice. Ergo, I had to wait at least twenty-four hours before tracking her down.

I left his office with a grateful thanks. When I exited the hall and entered the main part of the club, I slowed to a stop, catching sight of Ten as he pushed through the front door.

Checking the time, I realized practice must already be over. Damn. I wasn’t ready to deal with him. Sticking to the shadows of the hallway, I narrowed my eyes and watched him stalk toward the bar.

“I need alcohol. Bad.”

“Well, you came to the right place.” Asher flipped up a cup and served him a shot of tequila.

Ten didn’t even say thank you; he snagged the cup from the bar and downed it with a hard swallow, then he gritted his teeth and focused on Asher. “What the f*ck did you do to your hair?”

Asher chuckled as he flicked his head to the side, letting me see the blond ends he’d dyed into his dark hair, which I hadn’t noticed earlier when I’d come in. “Caroline thought I’d look cool with highlights. So...I went and got some. Who gave you the black eye?”

“Caroline?” Ten repeated incredulously, narrowing his eyes, and completely ignoring Asher’s return question. “You mean, my Caroline?”

Asher arched an amused eyebrow. “Your Caroline?”

Ten flashed his teeth in a silent snarl. “Noel’s Caroline. Caroline Gamble. You know who the f*ck I mean, damn it.”

“Oh, well then...” Asher grinned. “Yeah, that Caroline.”

Face growing dark, Ten leaned across the counter toward Asher. “Since when are you and Caroline such great buddies?”

Asher gave a shrug as he refilled Ten’s shot glass. “Since we met at my first gig last week, I guess. We exchanged numbers and started texting—”

“You what?” Ten snagged the next drink and swallowed it whole before slamming the empty glass back down. “Does Noel know you two are suddenly so tight?”

Asher made a face as if he wanted to contradict Ten’s terminology, but then he said, “Yeah. I mean, I think he knows. Why? We just talk. What’s your deal, man?”