Page 39 of Falling for the Enemy

“There’s no such thing as just sex.”

“You think that, because you’ve only ever slept with Greyson. Trust me, for other people, casual sex is only sex.”

“I’ve known Soren my entire life. Nothing about that man is casual.”

“Exactly. And Soren and I were less than casual. We’re, like, eight stories below casual, somewhere in the basement of accidental. He’s a fuck boy. A drive-by booty call. It was never turning into anything more.”

“But you were there for him when Magnus died.”

“Death does weird things to people. He was sad, and I did something to get his mind off his dad.” She didn’t need to know that wasn’t the first time.

Wren sat back and dusted the pie crumbs off her belly. “I don’t believe you.”

“Fine, but I’m telling you the truth.”

“No!” She threw her hands in a mini-tantrum. “I know you care about him!”

“I really don’t. We’ve always gotten on each other’s nerves. We would kill each other in a relationship.”

Her friend’s hope deflated. “Is the sex at least good?”

Jocelyn wanted to lie, but couldn’t get the fib out.

At her silence, Wren smiled. “It is good!” She clapped like an excited seal. “How good?”

For the first time in probably twenty years, Jocelyn felt a flush burn over her cheeks. “It’s…above average.”

“How above?”

It was suddenly roasting in the dining room. “Fine,” she growled. “It’s great, but that doesn’t mean anything, Wren, so get that hopeful look out of your eyes.”

“Great?”

“Yes! What do you want me to say? Is it some of the best sex I’ve ever had? Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

She growled again. “Definitely.”

“Definitely?” Wren laughed.

“So what if he fucks my brains out, and I’m probably addicted to his dick. It doesn’t matter!”

“He’s the best sex you’ve ever had, and that doesn’t matter to you?”

“Who’s the best sex you’ve ever had?” Logan asked, scaring the crap out of both of them.

“Where the hell did you come from?”

“I’m very stealth. Who you fuckin’, Collins?”

“None of your business, Hawthorne.”

He looked at Wren and smirked. When Wren instantly avoided eye contact, he closed the distance. “Come on, Wren. Spill. You know you can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Wren,” Jocelyn said in warning. “Don’t you dare.”

“Wren…” Logan chanted in a slow sing-song voice. “Let it out. You know you want to. Who’s giving Jocelyn that gold-star dick?”